#but i love the fragrance and i love to smell it. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dawn-iscozy · 1 day ago

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“ like a cat in a sunny spot ” ♡ ii ♡

SERIES PLAYLIST: “ swim ” - chase atlantic ♡ “ honey (are u coming?) ” - maneskin ♡ “ the summoning ” - sleep token ♡ “ soft spot ” - keshi ♡ “ fallin’ for you ” - colbie caillat ♡ “ kiss me ” - ed sheeran ♡

SERIES WARNINGS: poly, eventual ot8, named oc - “Rora”, derived from “Aurora” (soooooo original, I know), who is basically a self-insert (i’m still on the brink of denial about it). loooots of nicknames/pet names, and even more as the fic progresses (if you read the “a little warmth in winter” you’ll know most of the names already 🤭). things move pretty quickly in this, and it may stray vaguely into soulmate au territory but, like, I’m a sucker for these men and for the way I’ve written them and I just can’t stop.

apologies in advance if the timeline doesn’t make any sense, I’m going purely on vibes and my affection for these 8 men. idk if it deserves a warning, but scents are mentioned a lot in this part and kinda littered through the rest of the fic, too (using scent profiles from a perfume/fragrance site that has a line of scents called “Smells Like a Hug From Ateez” and very limited knowledge of fragrances the members may have previously used/just the vibes they give off)

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

♡ 18+ - no smut, but still MDNI ♡

CHAPTER WARNINGS: aftercare continued from the first part, san in the shower, he’s sexy but also soft, like sososo soft i fell in love while writing this, food/eating, this is mostly just fluffy but apparently i can’t write a single scene without any nervous/anxious or sexual tension

ii: soft & warm

They ended up ordering food in rather than looking around the kitchen or going out when she, face very red, admitted that she was too tired and a little too sore to want to go out to search for some. The two men were gracious, and admittedly a little smug, in their acceptance of her admission. Admitting themselves that they were too spent to try to find something to whip up for them all to eat and, laughing, also admitted that they didn’t have much food to choose from in the apartment in the first place.

Instead, they gave her a cool glass of water and when she finished the whole glass, ushered her into the bathroom for a shower.

Wooyoung was quick to drop a kiss to her head and leave to go order the food. San stayed in the bathroom with her. She didn’t ask him to, but she was glad that he did as she stood shivering, feet just that little bit too cold against the tile of the bathroom floor and goosebumps lining her skin. Warm hands lifted her up onto the counter, and she squeaked. The counter was cold against her naked bottom, but she found herself warming up at his casual display of strength. At the way his muscles shifted and flexed beneath his skin as he walked away and started the shower, as he walked back over and started to rifle through a drawer between her now-parted legs.

Rora’s breath caught and she forced her legs to be still, to not close around his waist or pull him closer than he already is. He looked so good standing there, his heat and the smell of his cologne washing over her.

She watched him in silence as he searched through another drawer, the tension releasing from her body when he released a sound of triumph, holding up a still-packaged toothbrush. She giggled, and he turned to her, eyes skimming over her face, dimples on display. His expression was soft, his head tilting as her face warmed under his gaze. He chuckled, placing the toothbrush down to help her slide off the counter.

“Come on,” he murmured, hands smoothing along her sides as he guided her inside the walk-in shower. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

Simply nodding, she allowed him to navigate her body in front of his and under the water. A gasp slipped from her at the sudden temperature change, body tensing, and she couldn’t help the step away from the water she made. San chuckled when she ended up pressed right against his front, those hard muscles shifting under soft, wet skin. “Is the water okay? Too hot?” he asked, hands smoothing over her hair and down her back.

Her cheeks flushed, and she took a tentative step back to let the water wash over her once again. “It’s…it’s fine,” she mumbled. “I’m sensitive to temperatures sometimes. Just gotta get used to it.”

She glanced up at him through her lashes to see him nodding, a soft smile on his face. His fingers tipped her chin up. “Look at me, darling. Let me see those pretty eyes.” His voice was soft, only the slightest hint of grit underneath. Her heart fluttered as she did as he said, blinking up at him through her embarrassment and shyness. “There they are,” he mused quietly, thumb sliding down her jaw.

Her skin tingled at his words, and she felt herself relaxing under his gaze.

“There you go, darling, just relax for me.” His lips were pressed against her forehead before he was crowding closer to her. She shivered at his words, barely containing the gasp that bubbled in her chest, and looked back to see different products lined up on two different shelves. “Wanna smell like me or Youngie?”

She thought back to the way Wooyoung smelled when she was in his lap, face tucked into his neck post-orgasm, his smell washing over her senses. That intoxicating musk and comforting wood and sweet floral. Light yet undeniably strong. “Youngie,” she answered softly, with no hesitation. “Wanna smell like Youngie, please.” She didn’t care that she was practically bouncing as she said it, didn’t care that she was almost begging San, not when he was looking at her like she just might be the cutest thing he had ever seen.

San chuckled, reaching for a bottle on the left. “Alright,” he said. “Wet your hair, and I’ll wash it, okay?”

She was already doing as he suggested by the time it fully registered, and her eyes popped open under the streams of water to blink up at him. “You don’t have to do that for me, San,” she murmured, eyebrows furrowing.

San moved her away from the direct stream of water. “I want to, darling,” he murmured as he popped open the lid of the shampoo and squeezed some out into his palm. She blinked up at him, voice stuck in her throat at the new nickname. He grinned, and then his strong hands were working in her hair.

A soft groan fell from her lips, eyes closing in bliss as his fingers massaged through her hair, blunt nails scratching lightly at her scalp. Shivers of delight worked down her spine, brain fogging up in the most wonderful way. A “good girl” was whispered in her ear as he rinsed the bubbles from her hair, a strong arm looping around her back to hold her up as she drifted, letting him just take care of her.

“Darling,” San said, tickling his fingers up the curve of her waist. “Darling, need you to come back for a minute.”

“Sorry, sorry. M’here,” she murmured, sighing. Her heavy eyes opened, lashes spiked from the water, the added weight threatening to force them closed again. Regardless of her sleepiness, she smiled up at him.

“Hi there, sleepy head.” He tickled her sides again, and she giggled softly, leaning into him and letting her eyes open. “Gonna wash you now. Is that okay? Can I touch you?”

She hummed. “Yes, Sannie,” she said, “As long as I can wash you too.”

His responding grin was blinding. “Of course you can, darling.” His strong hands lightly kneaded at her hips before he reached around her for Wooyoung’s body wash. Her nose lit up with the wood and musk that she imagined would soon be permanently embedded in her senses as San’s hands smoothed over her skin, soft though rough with callouses that she imagined he got from years of exercising. She couldn’t help the heat threatening to pool low in her belly or the soft moans that bubbled past her lips.

San groaned, pulling her closer to his body. But whatever he was going to say was stopped by the sound of the bathroom door opening. She startled, pushing further against San and peeking through the glass of the shower to see Wooyoung there. “Sorry,” he said as he walked in, closing the door with his foot. He had clothes in his arms, and he was no longer in his outfit from before. Dressed in a pair of shorts and a large black shirt. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. But the others came back earlier than I thought they would, and I thought I should warn you.”

His eyes swept over her, lingering where her breasts were smashed against San and the curve of her hips for a moment or two before finally coming to rest on her face. He sent her a soft smile, watching as her brows furrowed as what he said finally clicked.

“Others,” she murmured, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. The word came out thick, laced with quickly evaporating sleep, but even so, there was a noticeable tremor in her voice. She wanted to kick herself, letting herself and her courage from earlier in the night drift away without her even noticing. Or maybe that was all the alcohol. Of course they had roommates. The apartment was much too large for just the two of them, and if she had been more aware, she would have noticed it sooner. There were three other doors in the hallway, all of them closed, and they had gone past all of them.

San’s hand smoothed over her arm lightly. “Stay calm, darling,” he murmured in her ear, and she forced herself to take a breath. “Let’s get you dry and in some comfy clothes, hmm?”

“But…you?” Rora was pouting. She knew she was, but she didn’t even try to fix her expression. Not with that soft look on his face, and not when she was trying to distract herself from the sudden wave of nerves. His eyes spoke of something like adoration, soso soft, with the barest hint of a smile to accompany it. She preened under that look, letting herself bask in the warmth of it, like a cat that found a sunny spot on the floor.

“It’s okay.” San kissed her temple, gently maneuvering her from under the water. “I can finish washing up while Wooyoung helps you dry off, and you two can talk, okay?”

She watched with wide eyes as the water fell over him, too astounded by the sight of it to feel worried. His eyes were closed, head tipped back. He was smirking, like he could feel her gaze on him. His hands pushed his wet hair back, and her eyes fixated on the bulging and flexing of his biceps.

Wooyoung’s chuckle is what brought her back, and she blushed when the shower door opened, his amusement on full display to her. “I know Sannie’s attractive, but we gotta get you dried off, sweetheart,” he said.

Nodding, she stepped out. A towel was immediately wrapped around her, and she giggled as another towel was plopped right on her head. Wooyoung giggled right alongside her, and his grinning face came into her line of sight when the towel on her head was lifted.

His eyes were sparkling in the light of the bathroom, and she was struck by just how beautiful happiness looked on him. She stared at him as his face sombered the slightest bit, showing his focus as he moved the towels over her skin and hair. His touch was gentle, gentler even than she was with herself after a shower. The towel barely scraped her skin and the smile never fell from his face, not even when he moved to help her dress.

All she could do was watch him and hope her eyes didn’t look as soft as she felt at that moment.

Wooyoung dressed her in a large hoodie that smelled like fabric softener and warm leather and spiced chocolate - Sannie’s, he said - and fell over her thighs, a pair of boxers that clung to her in a funny, almost uncomfortable way, and a pair of socks that were way too big. But she didn’t complain, helping him lift her to sit on the counter. He settled himself on the other side of the sink, legs folded up, sock-covered feet in the sink so he could turn to look at her. “Sannie and I don’t live here alone,” he started. It was a blunt way to start the conversation, and although her heart gave a start at the suddenness of it, she appreciated that he jumped right into it. “We have two other roommates, and they came home while I was ordering the food. If you aren’t comfortable with more people being around, we can eat in my room or in Sannie’s. Or you can…you can go home and we can meet up to talk another time.”

Her teeth nibbled her bottom lip as she watched him watch her. She took a breath, reaching inside herself for the courage to give him the honesty that she had given him and San earlier in the night. She didn’t want to go back to her apartment and her lonely bed. “I don’t want to go home yet. I…want to stay,” she said softly, curling her legs up to wrap her arms around them. “If that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” he said, leaning forward over his knees. His eyes were wide and earnest, his smile soft. “We would love for you to stay. Do you want to eat in my room or out in the living room?”

The water cut off, and silence spread through the bathroom. Her gaze shifted from Wooyoung’s as San exited the shower, watching as he grabbed a towel that was hanging and began to dry himself off. She forced her eyes back to Wooyoung and gulped. “Are your roommates…Do they know I’m here?”

“Yes,” he said. “They knew that me and San went out together, and they noticed your heels and dress in the living room.”

“Does…this kind of thing happen often?”

“What? Me and San bringing someone home? That person staying the night? Or the roommates coming back early?” he asked, brows lifting playfully. He must have seen something in her face, because his face softened, turned thoughtful, and he leaned forward some more so that all she could do was look at him. “Us bringing someone home to share - it isn’t…uncommon, but it isn’t a regular occurance, either. It’s something we do when we have a little extra steam we need to blow off. Usually, when we decide we want to do something like this, the person we bring home doesn’t stay longer than the sex and we never see them again after.”

“Oh,” she breathed. She looked down at her feet, dangling over the edge of the counter. It didn’t quite feel like she was intruding, but even if Wooyoung and San had explicitly asked her to stay, she wasn’t sure if she should be there.

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, bringing her back out of her thoughts. San was at her side by then, bare chest brushing her covered shoulder, droplets of water darkening the fabric. “We want you here, darling,” he murmured.

“Our roommates are roommates, but they’re also some of our best friends. Their schedules are unpredictable sometimes, and they’ve come home to see some pretty…interesting stuff.” He paused when he noticed her gaze unfocusing, and he took in the changes of her expression as she imagined what kinds of things could have been happening between San, Wooyoung, and some nameless person. What all could happen with her.

A chuckle by her ear brought her back to the conversation. She pointedly ignored the heat in her face and between her legs, forcing herself back to the conversation. Hands settled on her shoulders, and her gaze shifted to see San now bending down to her eye level. “I don’t know what exactly you’re worried about, but they aren’t likely to ask any questions or tease you. Me and Wooyoung, maybe, but not you. They’ve always been respectful about it, and never bring it up in a negative way. Not to us and especially not to anyone else.”

Silence overtook the bathroom again as she thought, eyes trailing after San as he walked over to the door. He sent her a wink before slipping out into the hall, towel hanging on his hips. “Have they eaten yet?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, they both just got back from work. After closing, they usually just want to come home.”

Her lips pouted out at that. It was late, the sun having set long ago, and she knew that she would have been more than just a little grumpy if her friends were to pull her away from food and rest after an extra long shift at work. “Let’s…let’s all eat together,” she said finally.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

She nodded, hands twisting in the fabric of the hoodie. “It’s their home, too,” she said. “I’m just a guest here. They shouldn’t feel uncomfortable or forced to change their usual routines because I’m here. Will there be enough for us all?”

“We can always cook up something quick to have with it.” Woo grinned. “Trying to butter up our friends, sweetheart?”

She giggled, shaking her head. “Maybe,” she mumbled, her fingers coming up to press against her lips. The door opened again before she could say anything else, cooler air coming in as San’s broad figure filled the doorway. He was shirtless, a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips. Her lips parted, teeth finding the pads of her fingers as she forced her eyes back to his face.

A dark brow raised, lips quirked up at the corner. His eyes stayed on her for a moment, looking her up and down. She felt warm under his gaze, desirable and soft, and the feeling lingered even after it shifted over to Wooyoung, who was sliding off the countertop.

“Sannie, did you ask Yunho and Jongho if they’ve eaten yet?”

Something about the names niggled at the back of her brain as she moved to slide down from the counter. But any train of thought that could lead to uncovering that little warning bell was stopped by Wooyoung's hands on her hips.

“Let me help you,” he murmured, brown eyes wide as they looked at her. She could do nothing but agree, hands clutching his arms as he helped her down. A squeak came from her when he held her tight against him, one of her legs hiked up to his hip. He pressed her body back against the counter, the edge digging into her lower back, and she couldn't help but moan.

Then, he was stepping away from her, guiding her leg down with a playful smirk.

“No,” San said finally. Amusement tinged his words, and she refused to turn to look at him. Her eyes betrayed her, straying over to him to take in the way his eyes glinted in the bathroom lighting, wide shoulders shaking as they filled the now open doorway. Sounds filtered in and echoed around the space, and she could make out laughter and the sounds that could only come from an action scene in a movie. “I didn’t ask them, but I’m sure they haven’t. Why?”

“Rora wants to eat with them and make sure they’ve eaten something - such a little angel,” Wooyoung said, slinging an arm around her shoulders and guiding her past San’s body, out into the hallway. His nose nuzzled into her still-damp hair, his teasing chuckle echoing in her ear. She whined, hiding her face in his chest as they walked. He carded his fingers through her hair, combing through the tangles as he spoke to San again, “Do you think you could make something to eat with the takeout?”

“Ramyun?” San suggested. She let out a noise of excitement at that, causing the two men to chuckle. “Okay, ramyun it is. What did you order, anyway?”

“Fried chicken.”

Her stomach growled, despite the fact that she had already eaten dinner for the night. Granted, it had been hours. She ate just before the sun had started to set, and she had been pretty…active since then. And heck, if some fried chicken and ramyun didn’t sound magnificent at that moment.

“Hungry, sweetheart? Did you work up an appetite?” Wooyoung asked. His voice lowered, went breathy. Soso sexy.

She blushed, but couldn’t help the smile coming to her face. “Certainly,” she said. “Shall we do it again?” She risked a glance up at Wooyoung, her lips ghosting over his clothed chest. She wanted to nibble, bite down into the swell of muscle that could be felt beneath her cheek, but she shied away from doing it. Instead, she rubbed her face against the softness of his shirt, in an admittedly very cat-like move. One that reminded her so much of the same way her cat would when he wanted a treat or headpats.

He stopped walking at the end of the hallway to look down at her, brows raised. “Certainly,” he rumbled, hand tugging lightly on her hair. Her breath caught in her throat, and he grinned. “Come on, sweetheart. Gotta eat.” As they finally stepped into the light of the living room, the sounds of chatter and a random movie were immediately dimmed by Wooyoung’s whisper, “Maybe later you can be my dessert, hmm?”

She didn’t have the time to react to his words as her eyes swept the living room. Her heels were placed nicely by the door, and her dress, it seemed, had been folded up and settled neatly on the corner of the coffee table, far away from a sweating can of beer beside an empty coaster.

Movement caught her attention, and she looked through into the kitchen, where San was already starting on the ramyun, the salty, spicy smell already filling the apartment - though, that might have been her stomach influencing her brain. He had on a pink apron, and though it should have looked silly, he still looked amazing. Strong arms and toned back visible in the dim yellow lighting of the apartment. Her mouth was watering, and she wasn’t sure whether it was from the view or the smell.

“Rora?”

She jumped, shoulder tensing, lifting almost to her ears, and she turned her head to spy two men sitting together on the sofa. One was tall, really tall, even while sitting. Slightly overgrown brown hair looking like it’s been pushed back a few too many times, big eyes peering at her curiously. Even in sweats and an oversized shirt, a beer halfway to his mouth, he looked familiar.

The other man looked even more so.

She stood there, mortified, as it sunk in, as she took in the sight of her coworker and the friend she had joined him in eating lunch with earlier that afternoon, sitting on a sofa in casual clothes. His usually neat hair was no longer styled and just the slightest bit mussed, and he was wearing a black shirt and a pair of loose shorts that did little to cover his usually hidden skin. She tried her best not to stare, instead looking back into all-too-familiar eyes. “Jongho?” She took a step back, bumping into Wooyoung.

“You know each other?” he asked, rubbing a soothing caress down her arm, and her hand twitched at the feeling.

She nodded, releasing a deep breath just as Jongho said, “We work together.”

Wooyoung cursed from behind her, hand coming to her shoulder. “Are you okay? Are you uncomfortable?” He turned her around to face him, brows furrowed as he looked at her. She tilted her head, watching as his eyes roamed her face then flicked over her shoulder to Jongho.

“It’s fine,” Jongho reassured. She imagined his eyes widening, brows lifting to show his sincerity, the way they did when she would tell a stupid joke during their occasional shared lunch and he would try to tell her that it was, in fact, funny, even if he wasn’t laughing. “Unexpected, but fine.”

At Jongho’s words, Wooyoung's gaze was back on her, his pretty eyes searching her face again. She nodded, smiling up at him and reaching to squeeze his arm. “It’s unexpected and a little awkward, but I’m not uncomfortable.”

“It won’t cause any issues at work?”

She risked a glance over at Jongho, who had pulled a blanket over his lap and pulled his legs up onto the sofa. Her stomach twisted at the idea that she was making him uncomfortable, knowing that he preferred to be covered up, rarely even wearing shorter sleeves for casual days at work. And here she was, in his home, where he’s meant to be able to be himself, be comfortable. Afraid that he just wasn’t saying anything about it, even though every interaction she’s ever had with him proved him to be a man who would state his objections to situations.

He smiled at her, his eyes soft but wide. Reassuring. Sincere. Familiar.

Rora let herself relax.

Her eyes returned to Wooyoung, lingering momentarily on his pouty lower lip before locking with his. “We’re usually too busy to talk much at work, and when we do, it’s rarely ever about our lives outside of work. I won’t bring it up, and I trust Jongho not to say anything that will cause any issues or make me uncomfortable.”

Harsh buzzing filled the room, and she giggled when Wooyoung jumped at the sudden noise. “That should be the food,” he mumbled. “Sit down, sweetheart. I gotta go downstairs to get it, but I’ll be right back.”

He guided her to sit between the two men on the sofa. She sat there stiffly, feeling exposed now that neither Wooyoung nor San was with her. Her fists were balled on her thighs and back straight, as she watched Woo walk through the door.

A little snicker got her attention, and she turned to see amusement written all over the tall man’s face. Yunho. He looked just as handsome as he did earlier that day, even in his comfy clothes and even after a long day. His eyes were big, lips spreading into a smile that showed all of his teeth. “Nice to see you again,” he chimed. “It’s a little sooner than anticipated, but I can’t say I’m upset about it.”

“You know her, too?”

She turned to see San, pink apron and all, holding a steaming pot with two small pot holders. He set the pot down on the coffee table before going back to the kitchen, only to return seconds later with bowls and utensils.

“Not really,” Yunho explained, taking the bowl and chopsticks offered to him. “We met when I went to have lunch with Jongho earlier today.” He pushed himself from the sofa to settle on the floor, long legs folding in front of him. She watched as he immediately went for some noodles. A bowl and chopsticks were offered to her, and she took them from San’s grasp.

Her brows furrowed as she sat beside the tall man, her knee brushing against his. The point of contact was warm and made her skin tingle. She ignored it and turned to face Jongho, brows furrowing further still. “Didn’t we leave work at the same time today? Why are you just now getting home?” Shock covered his face at her questions, and her eyes widened. “Fuck, I’m sorry. That’s a personal question. You don’t have to answer that.”

The shock left Jongho’s face and his eyes crinkled, a gummy smile lighting up his features. She stared at him in awe, taking in the rare glimpse of innocence on her usually mature looking coworker, the sound of his giggles washing over her. Happiness was gorgeous on him. She was staring, entranced. Unable to look away, though she didn’t think she wanted to look away.

Someone nudged her arm, snapping her from her stupor. She turned to see Yunho offering her the bowl in his hands. She stuttered out a confused “thank you”, letting him take the other bowl from her grasp. He sent her a wink before turning back to fishing out more noodles.

Blinking herself from her stupor, she looked back to Jongho to see him settling down beside her. He cleared his throat and reached past her for some noodles of his own. His warmth engulfed her, her heart fluttering as the smell of his cologne momentarily cut through the smells of the food. “It’s fine, by the way. I don’t mind you asking,” he finally said as he rested back against the sofa. He glanced at her briefly before looking at the pot on the table. “I help out at Yunho’s cafe sometimes when he’s especially short staffed. All of us do. Everyone was busy and he had no one else he could call to help close tonight. So, I offered my help.” He said it nonchalantly, like it was the simplest, most ordinary thing in the world. Like it didn’t have her heart softening as she watched him scoop up and then blow on his first bite of ramyun.

She didn’t know anything about these men, but she could easily see how much they cared for each other.

“Ah,” she murmured. It was all she could think to say with her brain melting at the obvious affection in his voice. Her eyes shifted away from Jongho, distracted as San came back. He sat on the other side of the coffee table, right in front of her. His eyes locked with hers, those gorgeous dimples on show as he slid a glass of water over to her. One of his feet slid under the table, nudging at her leg, and he sent her a playful wink. She bit her cheek to stop from giggling.

He was reaching forward, chopsticks already lifting a hefty amount of noodles just as Wooyoung came back with a plastic bag. Her giggle slipped free when Wooyoung absentmindedly patted San’s hair, and San simply blinked up at him. Wooyoung plopped down, shoulder brushing against San’s, and settling the rustling plastic on the table. He sent her a grin at her laughter and reached to open up the box containing the chicken.

The smell filled the living room. Her stomach sounded, and with the chuckles of the four men surrounding her, she started eating.

They all ate in silence, the only sounds being that of eating and the movie - one featuring a superhero - still playing. The ramyun was warm and spicy. Almost too spicy for her to handle, but soso good that she couldn’t stop going in for little sips of the soup between noodle refills. She made a mental note to ask San how he prepared it so she could recreate it for herself in the future. The chicken, too, was delicious, the greasiness and crunch satisfying in a way she had never imagined fried chicken ever being outside of that moment.

By the time the food was finished, she was relaxed. Sated. Teetering on the edge of being sleepy again. She leaned back into the couch with a sigh, her shoulders brushing against both Yunho’s and Jongho’s arms as she did so. She melted at the warmth coming from them, enjoying sitting between them, fighting the urge to lean to either side to soak up even more warmth. Her head fell back into the cushions of the sofa, hands smoothing over the blanket that had somehow ended up over her exposed legs and heavy eyes fixed on the ceiling, watching the play of lights and shadows caused by the television.

She turned her head, Yunho’s side profile filling her vision. His cheeks were full with his last bite of noodles, nose and ears tipped with red, likely from the heat and spice of the ramyun. But he still looked handsome. Like a prince who stepped right out of the pages of a storybook, the kind of man that would sometimes feature in her dreams when she was younger.

As if he felt her gaze on him, he turned to look at her, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he finished chewing. Her eyes lingered there for a moment, taking in the length of his fingers, the width of his palm, the elegance of the simple move. Her gaze shifted up to see his big eyes blinking at her. Her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip, and she held back a smile when his eyes flickered down at the movement, his ears going red when his gaze came back up to lock with hers again.

She marveled at how kind his eyes looked. Marveled at how this group of friends had so many people with such pretty eyes, how they all had such lovely, easy-to-get-lost-in eyes. She wanted to get lost in the galaxies she found in them, no matter whose. She imagined how easy it would be, exploring the deep, dark depths, discovering different shades of gold, amber, chocolate, coffee - every facet and shift in the brown.

Her heavy eyelids drooped down before she could stop them. When they blinked back open, Yunho’s eyes were crinkled at the edges, his lips spread out into a soft smile, his own head tipped back beside hers. She lingered on his smile, his lips, lovely and almost heart-shaped and suddenly she wondered what they would feel like against her own.

She took in a sharp inhale, hoping some deep breaths would help her stay awake and change her drifting thoughts. Her eyes blinked, rolled behind her closed eyelids, and when they fluttered open again, she asked the question still lingering on the tip of her tongue. “You own a cafe?”

Yunho’s smile grew, eyes crinkling nearly into crescents. “I do,” he said. “My friend Mingi and I co-own a comic book cafe. We’re still relatively new, so we don’t get the most business. But the food is good and the coffee is even better!”

Wooyoung snorted. “Don’t let Mingi hear you call him just ‘your friend’,” he said. “He’ll go on about moral loyalty again.”

Yunho ignored his statement, much to Wooyoung’s chagrin. So, Rora did too, fighting back a grin as Wooyoung uttered a pouty noise. “Oh!” she said, legs curling up under the blanket. “That sounds fun. I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a cafe like that. I’ll have to stop by sometime.”

“It’s not far from where you and Jongho work,” he said, shifting so that he was facing her, his body scrunched up and an arm under his head on the cushion. It couldn’t have been comfortable, especially not for someone of such height. But with his cheek squished against his arm, pouting his lips out the slightest bit, he still looked equal parts gorgeous and adorable, looking at her like that. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind showing you over lunch sometime.”

The air shifted on her other side, and she turned her head to see Jongho looking between them. His eyes were wide and clear, star-filled, even as his face was mostly blank. Her brows lifted at him, and his face softened into a smile. “Sure, we can go on Monday, if you want,” he said. “And you can meet some more of our friends. Mingi will be there, and maybe one of the others. Those two never really can keep any employees for long.”

She sat up in her excitement, practically vibrating in her spot. “Yes, please,” she said, grin on full display to all the men in the room. Yunho and Jongho chuckled from either side of her, and she found herself giggling along even as her gaze strayed to the two men in front of her.

Wooyoung and San were watching her, seemingly sharing in her excitement. She couldn’t quite read their expressions, but their faces were soft, eyes warm, lips tipped up at the corners. She basked in their stares, welcomed it, feeling warm under their gazes.

She literally just met these men, but Rora never wanted them to stop looking at her. Never wanted to stop looking at them. And there were more of them? Her heart kicked up in her chest at the idea of meeting more men like these four, of discovering more about them, of them wanting her to meet them.

Leaning forward, she propped her elbows on the table, chin in her sweater-covered hands so she could stare right back at them. Their shoulders were brushing, looking so calm and comfortable next to each other that she almost wished she was sitting between them, sharing their warmth and comfort, even if she was still technically a stranger to them. Her bottom lip poked out, her heavy lashes swooping down, fluttering. It had to be the sleepiness making her delusional. Or it was just the way these men made her feel so accepted and content in herself and with the situation - whatever it really was - in such little time.

There was no judgment to be felt in the room, and she couldn’t remember a time where she had been so at ease in any group setting so quickly.

“Are you tired, sweetheart?” Wooyoung asked. His voice cut through the sleepy haze of her mind, and her eyes blinked open to see him copying her pose, his chin settling in the palm of his hand. The move lengthened his throat and brought her attention to the sharpness of his features, the light doing wonders for his cheekbones and the line of his jaw. She wanted to leave kisses there. To nibble, bite, leave marks. Rora’s mouth went dry, and she gulped when his lips tipped up playfully to let her know that she was caught in her admiration, his teeth sinking into his full lower lip. “Ready for bed?”

She was nodding before she could even think about it. She was no longer tired, feeling more than energized, as his eyes moved over her face. But she wouldn’t mind being in bed, especially with this man. Low laughter came from behind her. Her cheeks warmed as she ignored the two men flanking her, and her eyes shifted over to San. His eyes were narrowed, head tilted, and she was sure that he was able to read every expression that crossed her face.

Rora scrambled to stand as San and Wooyoung did, heart spiking up into her throat as she stumbled. Large hands caught her before she could fall back against the sofa, one on her hip and the other on her lower back. Looking down, she followed the long arm to see Yunho now sitting up, looking up at her with equal parts concern and amusement. “Be careful there, honey,” he said, chuckling lightly.

Someone grabbed her hand. She blinked, looking away from Yunho to spy Jongho. He looked surprised, like he hadn’t meant to do it. But he didn’t let go, even as his cheeks colored with pink, simply helping her around the table and murmuring out his own “be careful” as he handed her off to a very amused San.

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angelesca · 2 days ago

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OMG UR WIRITNG IS SO BEAUTIFUL??? IM SEEING FLOWERS BLOOM ON MY SCREEN HOLYYYYY omg this is literally what i wish my writing was like🙏🙏

"The weapons were distributed quickly, grabbed and sought after as bread when the sun rose, the heat and smell of metal akin to the fragrance of meal for an empty stomach. The forger and the baker both shared a stove, but for vastly different reasons. The baker wanted to feed—you wished to make something bleed."

this really stuck with me i love love love how you described it argghh, so good🫶🫶will be tuning in for the next chapters deffo❤️❤️

Jade Dragon’s Iron-Clad Camellias [2]

Dan Feng x Reader

[ao3] or #df-camellia on my profile! [work masterlist]

Gaining recognition wasn’t something which needed any planning. And although you were great at setting reasonable goals, it seemed as though winds blew in your favour without your push.

The Cloud Splendor Forge was a name made by whim with lack of any forethought, yet the immortals still sang its praises, emphasising the dutifulness behind each weapon—and the mastery behind the meanings.

But there was no meaning, same as there was no need for it to have one. Vidyadhara and alike—Foxians and the Homo Celestinae all spun tales of their own.

It was too easy in fact.

The weapons were distributed quickly, grabbed and sought after as bread when the sun rose, the heat and smell of metal akin to the fragrance of meal for an empty stomach. The forger and the baker both shared a stove, but for vastly different reasons. The baker wanted to feed—you wished to make something bleed.

Due to culture born from war and hope, it wasn’t uncommon for people to appreciate weapons. They paid much attention to not only usability, but the detail as well.

Not all attention to detail was good—you’ve long realised, soon after someone began to nitpick them. And this wasn’t the first time.

Stood behind the counter of the inside of your forge, you moved a damp rag over it, pretending to try and clean away the black smears and the tar. It was a humble place, minimal amount of equipment and decor, spare for a flower which wilted from the heat radiating.

Further down was a stove and the tools, chisels and hammers, and the cold anvil which was unused yet.

It was so early after all.

He stood right near the entrance, glancing around, and you wished to pretend he wasn’t there. As long as you were ignorant, you could make him go away—sometimes wishes do come true.

The Vidyadhara cleared his throat expectantly.

But wishes take a while to work, and you finally lifted your face, shoving all the irritation down to the bottom of your stomach, lest there shows a vulnerability he’d be able to exploit like the snake that he was.

Annoyance ignited itself in your cortex already, perhaps at the idea that this preened lizard expected to be addressed. But you pretended everyday, and you could pretend for a while more. ”What may I help you with?”

Dan Feng’s piercing eyes seemed to glow by default in such a dark setting, and he finally stepped closer to the counter. “One assumes you know why one has come?”

This has happened before, three times precisely, where the pampered reptile would show up in all his might, and demand to meet the smith. It was engraved in your memory from the headache it caused each time, having to listen to his prolonged speeches about grandiose of his ideas; how just giving Yingxing the request through you would never be able to encompass his vision. A mortal can’t comprehend his ideas and expectations after all, you merely were an assistant. Dan Feng insisted-no, demanded to meet the craftsman.

”I have an idea why, but I fear the master remains in what he has said before.” you started, straightening to at least appear as though you paid him mind. To you, there was nothing grande before you, and you did not give a damn about his hereditary honorifics.

Glory is what you make—with both your hands.

Dan Feng sighed, pinching the ridge of his nose. He did not belong here, in his pristine and straightened clothes, and his untied hair. He was not ready nor made for work, and the contrast of his person to the comfort of your forge was sickening.

“Which would be?”

”Master Yingxing, as I’ve said, needs solitude to grow grand ideas. His words, not mine,” you began, keeping the tone as light as you could; grasping at the straws of your patience. “For that reason he only is present to deliver or make his craft. I only converse with him through written messages.”

You hoped that by emphasising the unapproachability of Yingxing, people would stop trying to meet him. Because frankly, you did not wish for people to know about your true identity, and you had all the reasons not to.

Only a madman would feel fine with that, if they were in your predicament at least.

Most immortals accepted your firm no. There was a sense of mystery and fantasy surrounding Yingxing, and the people of Xianzhou favoured romanticism over a popped bubble of delusion. And so, to maintain their image of the forger as someone cryptic, their efforts usually relented.

Most never means all however, and there would always be a prick who needed the validation of obtaining the unmovable.

”One sees no reason for such evasion,” He waved his hand, dismissing all your reasoning just as he did previously. It seemed the irritation finally got the best of him, as he dropped honorifics, and stopped attempting to pretend that you were on his level.

Dan Feng regarded you for a moment, and then the forge. Everything was ready to create, but there was no artist to do it. “Does he come today, then?”

”I wasn’t informed of that, where does the assumption come from?”

”Well,” The Vidyadhara gestured towards the other end of the forge leisurely and meticulously, as though he planned to point it out. “Do smiths not work when their tolls are ready?”

It was a miscalculation on your part. You really had to make sure to lock the forge next time, not that it mattered. Immortals usually sent their servants to order and retrieve weapons, and so it didn’t make a difference, as the pets of the Xianzhou folk never paid much mind. Such little humans usually soaked in their master's praises, never learning or knowing enough to find your business suspicious. Maybe it was blissful ignorance.

Dan Feng was truly the only one who insisted on proximity.

”What you see is correct, but that is the procedure. If the master comes, the forge must be ready, and given his solitude, I don’t know when to expect his grace.” You mustered, with as much courage as you could—despite coming up with this excuse on the spot. “I am sorry for the inconvenience, but his mind remains unchanged.”

”Fine, then. Have you told him that the one who seeks an audience with him is me?” The man began once more, his voice gaining an air of demand to it. He kept his hands to himself, not even willing to lay one on the deeply scarred wooden counter yet. “I am a High Elder, does your master not feel shame?”

It was hard to keep a cool shell when inside fires raged, and the facade slipped, for only a short moment. But it was unchangeable. “Have you considered that the master does not care?”

Dan Feng’s piercing and sharp eyes narrowed, and he finally leaned forward. “Excuse me?”

”Per your request I’ve left master the note about your wishes. Both to create the weapon and demand for the audience, but also of your status. That was the single demand that the master has not addressed with me.”

The irritation on his face was subtle, but the satisfaction of it was short lived. You forced your facial muscles into a state of tranquility, and the early bird gets prey. You had to act as though you had his best interest in mind.

“I insist, so that you don’t waste your time, to discuss the demands for the weapon with me.” You suggested once more, leaving it open for him to decide. “I convey it well enough, proven by the popularity that the master has gathered. If there are discrepancies, I’ll be held responsible,” you took a second to come up with the word that would please him the most. “For not being able to convey your vision well enough.”

You wanted your words to buy some of the graces you didn’t actually want—them being a currency to get him off your tail; or heel—that would be more accurate. Despite his visible need for protest and his clenched jaw, he relented. “Fine then, assistant.” The title rolled off his tongue like beads falling off a necklace, with an air of arrogance that seemed to constantly settle around him.

A sense of satisfaction poured into you still, despite the huge amount of effort it took to achieve this outcome.

It came to a halt as he leaned his hand on the counter at once, the other hand propped on his hip as he leaned to your stature, imposing your presence, breaking the usual distance needed for conversation in hopes of getting something out of you. “We will do how you want. Then again, commission is still pretty expensive. For that purpose I demand the weapon to be tailored specifically for me“

You swallowed. “They are always shaped for each clien-”

”No, I don’t look to have it only made per my word.” Dan Feng interrupted, his voice cutting through yours like a spear thrown through condensation of fog, causing you to halt. “Does your master need to see my former weapon for reference? The way in which I fight?”

Clients always trusted Yingxing, and a verbal assault of this caliber was far beyond your pay grade. With a sigh, one that you forced to be a calm one, your shoulders slumped. You wanted nothing more than to make the Vidyadhara bleed, but you stopped your sharp tongue.

”I understand the importance of making the weapon worth it, but my master is extraordinary” The self praise felt alien on your tongue, alien like Xianzhou’s cuisine and strange like a rock from beyond. You wished to spit it out with more pride, but it poured out more like water. “He will be able to provide you with a tailored option only after seeing the former weapon and understanding your expectations. That’s how my master keeps clients, I do not know the mysteries beyond that.”

Your defence was firm and sharp, he had to give you that. Dan Feng finally relented, straightening to fold his arm behind his back. His eyes lazily scanned the forge, not a single soul here spare for you and him.

”I am a High Elder, and I don’t wish to waste my time. I’ll send a servant here to deliver my former weapon, and as for its type..”

The Vidyadhara was suddenly filled with thought, slow and steady as his gaze was cast down. You weren’t yet sure how to feel, the gears in his mind turning deliberately, to a degree in which you could hear them click, click, click.

click.

”It is a weapon of long yet true reach, melee. It does not need excessive metal, and it is piercing, Stands tall, yet falls just as easily” High Elder mused cryptically, and his turquoise eyes drifted to yours soon after.

You stood there awkwardly with hands behind your back, pushing yourself up to the tips of your toes, before back to their heels. “Well, from my understanding that seems to be a spear. Do Vidyadhara name them differently?”

For a brief moment his brow rose, but he just shook his head, as if dismissing the thought that appeared. “A spear, then.”

So he was testing you. You couldn’t yet know the result of this trial.

The conversation concluded, and you were finally free to breathe when Dan Feng left. Having to upkeep the front of a dutiful clueless assistant took its toll once more, and you were left having to pick up pieces of your dignity.

Mortals didn’t have it easy on Xianzhou Loufu, despite it being more accommodating for them than the other two ships—and while you didn’t find it most fair, it was all you could get your hands on. You have long learned the importance of finding opportunities, doing what you had access to. You weren’t going to let self-victimisation ruin the odds.

The next day, as promised, the former weapon was delivered.

Dan Feng had a habit of not knocking, and he didn’t knock now either, entering the forge like his own damned domain—the spear in his grasp. Behind the safety of your counter your eyes widened, and you cleared your throat. A moment of silence passed.

“Forgive me asking, Higher Elder, but wasn’t a servant meant to do this duty?

He halted, eyes narrowing slightly at your words, though you had no idea what you might’ve said wrong. Yet it seemed as though the Vidyadhara was just as surprised to see you here. “Assistant.”

Your fingers curled into fists, and you forced a pleasant gaze upon your face. “I’m sorry, have I failed to mention that the master does not meet clients personally? If not, I would like to add that it prevents unnecessary bias.”

To hell with bias. Why was he here, again?

”The former, yes. Latter, hardly” His face turned to yours, gaze softening. “Though One could still hope to be on time.” A smile crept up onto his face, but you knew better than to take it as kindness; pity was more likely. Dan Feng’s interest in Yingxing was proving to be dangerous. Maybe you’d have to forge elsewhere, and take clients here. A faraway dream you could not afford; closer to that was perhaps changing the schedule altogether.

“No matter the technicalities. The weapon is here. Though this sky splitter did look better in its full glory” The doors closed behind him silently, despite the usual occurrence of them creaking with each move. Dan Feng was as robed as ever, preened and pristine and perfumed and he didn’t belong here at all.

The spear was laid on the table, and you looked down on habit, analysing its structure and shape. The front of it was clearly cracked, the fault permeating further down the spear. It was clinging to its frail shape, as a worm after being crushed.

His eyes were on the weapon, before they were on you, and you placed your hand onto the long body of the spear. Perfectly in the spot where its weight centre should be, given the heavier tip of the spear; and yet it still tilted. You frowned.

The spear was laughably off balance, and when you’ve realised how bold you’ve become, you set it down. When you opened your mouth to speak, you were almost afraid you’d ask which idiot forged this.

“I see. It appears broken. What sorts of improvements do you expect of the spear you’ve commissioned?”

You could already imagine analysing the spear later. The sharpness and its weight distribution, the evenness of its body and the smoothness that it should provide. You could smell the moment you’d forge it anew, and taste the ingredients of it with your fingertips.

You found the more you made weapons, the harder it was to stop.

Dan Feng raised his brow, head tilting at an angle as he went through his mind to remember his expectations—he did consider a new spear for some time now, especially after his friends helped him defeat the recent abominations of the abundance—his spear bore most of the damage.

This thought circled in his mind back and forth, what precisely did he want? Nothing but the best. Perfection. Dan Feng was not a master at making weapons, he could only wield them.

”Give it to your master,” the Vidyadhara expressed “ and tell him to improve on everything which is noticeably faulty within this one.”

#absolute peak im crying #thank you tumblr for the recc they got me fr #hsr x reader #yandere hsr #Dan Feng x reader #dan heng x reader

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