#bambam soft

[got7softbot]

jaebeom lockscreens!

｡･ﾟﾟ･Please like or reblog if using/saving ･ﾟﾟ･｡

[akanen-web]

⃝🌻 ⵌBambam moodboard !ㄔ

curte ou reblogue. dê os créditos, pfv <3!

[luluas-things]

Se for usar dar o crédito por favor!

[arrivalstuff]

♡ᵎ mark icons ♡ᵎ

like or reblog if you save.

[matttsato-web]

                 bienvenue au romantisme

             ⤹ クッキー ꧑૭૭ᦺɓ૭ᥲ𐑾ᦺ 𓂃 💭

         ⌗͢ꕤ! ﹫𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐚𝟎𝟎𝟏 🖇՚⠀𖠗 ᝢ⃗▓ت︎▒▓⃨༉

            » 𝙻Ꭵ𝗄ᦸ 𝚘𝚛 𝚛ᦸ𝚋𝗅𝚘𝚐, 𝗉𝗅𝗌 ! ▓⃨♡▒⃛ ༄

                 ♡⃡⃠ ﹙🥞﹚ᥕᥲẜẜᥣᦸ꯲ ᕱ⑅ᕱ

            ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[tuanyiems]

Ghost

Bambam Words: 300 a/n - i’m not back, this is a ghost posting c:

The sunlight filters through your cream curtains. You feel the warmth on your cheeks. It tickles you awake. Despite the April air still crisp with the remnants of winter, the early morning sunlight gives you the facade of summer.

That, or maybe it's the warm arms pulling you by the waist.

You peek one eye open to find Bambam curled up on his side, nuzzling closer to you. The flutter of his lashes, golden in the light, tells you he's awake. He doesn't look at you though.

Instead, he pulls you in closer, takes in a deep breath of his sweater that you wore to sleep. When he exhales, it is slow and shaky. Your heart aches the moment you feel it.

His eyes shut and you run your fingers lightly through his hair.

"Another dream?" you whisper softly.

He nods, nuzzling into your chest. You don't say anything else, just run your fingers through his hair softly.

"I've been seeing him more often lately," he finally says.

You smile, waiting until he looks back at you. "He's watching over you."

Bambam smiles back, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "Making sure I treat you right."

You chuckle, "And he must be proud of his son."

He laughs, the sound muffled into the crook of your neck. "It's too early to make me cry, babe!"

You only giggle, pulling him closer into your arms. Maybe it's the way he hugs you back, but you think you can feel the ache in his chest right against you.

You sigh, eyes squinting through the sunlight. For a moment, you think you see a passing shadow in the fluttering trees. It disappears as you blink, but the warmth remains.

You smile as you watch the sunlight kiss Bambam's temple softly. ©2023 tuanyiems

[blossomook]

🉆  🦋  ︴➛ Oii, eu fiz esses icons com o intuito de me sentir mais feliz no mês do orgulho, já que sou assexual, então nada melhor do que fazer icons do meu grupo utt com essa bandeira maravilhosa, e decidi compartilhar aqui pois vai que mais alguém quer usar. Enfim, espero muito que gostem 🖤🐘🤍💜

[sweetestofchaos]

if requests are still open, i would love some soft bambam hours 😭 like, just hanging out listening to some music 🥺

please and thank you 💘

Request 18 - SFW - No warnings...just really soft hours w/ Bambie - 562

A/N: I hope you like it! This was one of the first requests that I wrote when I got home. It just came really naturally since I had a 3 hour car drive back home.

You stare at the clock, the red numbers seeming to mock you as you struggle to keep your eyes shut. You roll over and close your eyes, maybe if you try to count sheep, you’ll fall asleep. They say the third time is the charm.

1...2...3...4...5...

You sit up with a sigh and grab your phone. This is going to be a long night. You pull up your text messages and bite your lower lip. Is it too late to text him? You know he’s been busy with his own schedule, but he always makes time for you. A text would hurt, right? It’s not like he’s asleep at this hour anyway. Taking the chance, you send a text to your friend Bambam asking if he’s awake. How long your stare at your phone? No clue, but after a while you sigh again and give up on hanging out with Bambam.

Rolling out of bed you grab a pair of leggings from the dresser before you throw them on with a hoodie over your oversized shirt. Maybe a walk will help clear your mind. As you grab your keys from your other hoodie your phone rings from the bed. Glancing at the screen you smile when you answer and Bambam breathes your name.

“Y/N? You, okay?”

“I’m good. Can’t sleep.”

“Ah,” Bambam clears his throat, and you can hear him moving around on his end. “Wanna go for a drive?”

“Huh? At this hour?” You glance at the clock, it’s pretty late, going on one o’clock.

“That one ramen shop is 24/7,” Bambam singsongs and he has you nodding your head.

“I’m ready when you are.”

Bambam laughs and you can hear his keys jingle. “I’ll text you when I’m out front.”

Music fills the air around you as you sit in the passenger seat of Bambam’s car. Your feet are propped up on the dash, a large take away bowel of ramen sits in your lap and Bambam’s voice floods your mind as he talks about his schedule for the rest of the week. You let yourself enjoy the chilled atmosphere, your mind at ease for the first time tonight. Beside you Bambam groans and stretches his arms above his head as best as possible.

“Wanna dip?”

You look at the nearly empty ramen in your lap and yawn, “Yeah.”

Bambam nods his head at your answer and opens the car door, grabbing his empty ramen bowl to toss in the trash can. The lights above the ramen shop flicker and you roll your shoulders, quickly swallowing the last mouthful of your ramen. As Bambam walks back to the car, you giggle and hold out your bowel. Bambam sucks his teeth at your laziness and grabs your bowel.

“Bunch of bullshit,” he grumbles and quickly scarfs down what’s left of your ramen before he tosses it in the trash. Once back in the car, you grab Bambam’s hand, and he smiles as he backs out of his parking spot. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we’re there.” Bambam rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he puts his turn signal on. “I Like It’ by Pink Sweat$ plays through the speakers as your eyes start to grow heavy. Bambam smiles to himself as you drift to sleep, and he drives through the city with no real destination in mind.

[got7softbot]

jackson moodboard ❤️🖤

｡･ﾟﾟ･Please like or reblog if using/saving ･ﾟﾟ･｡

[eviebyme]

*****i forgot to ask what for the GOT7 one. lol

https://at.tumblr.com/eviebyme/hi-i-wanted-to-ask-if-you-can-do-a-headcanon/9frby751u7c1

If you can please do the same for GOT7?

Hi! Yes, I can certainly do that 😉. Thanks for requesting!❤️

Got7 Kinks

Mark

He’s probably the most vanilla tbh

Being with a partner he finds sexy is usually enough for him

He prefers to stick with missionary or doggy

His kink would most probably be penetration, just the act of sex is enough and he doesn’t really like to step out of his comfort zone

He will silently judge you if you suggest anything too crazy by his standards

Jaebeom

I can see him having specific sensitive spots that will drive him crazy when they’re touched

Like he’s big into having his nipples played with or being pinched on his thighs or waist or something

To that point he probably has a specific body fetish. Foot fetish, breast, belly button. I can see him being hyperfixated (and turned on) by certain body parts

Likes having sex in public, but with no one around lol - like in a field or in a car. He finds it exciting but anything more and his anxiety takes over

Jackson

Ok guys, he’s a lowkey freak

Takes consent very VERY seriously because he knows he’ll mess you up lol

Hard dom- likes giving orders, inflicting pain, and teasing

Like leather and bondage

ALWAYS has a safe word, even if your intention is just making out

Jinyoung

Soft dom - he likes to give orders but is a huge softy and feels bad when he gets carried away

LOVES roleplaying - he’s always the dominant though. Like he really gets into it. He’s usually pretty reserved but once he’s into a role he completely changes into that character

Likes to blindfold and tie up his partner - but he only reaches this stage after being with someone for a while

Seems vanilla the first few times, but he is freaky trust me

Youngjae

Edging and being teased

Probably a switch or exclusively submissive

I can see him being turned on by certain articles of clothing - like knee high socks and a short skirt or lingerie. That will drive him wild. Even certain textures like silk or lace are incredibly sexy

Also, I can see getting turned on by cosplay of anime or video game characters - omg and maids!

Bambam

Soft dom #2

More of a Daddy/baby girl kind of dom

Loves to take care of you and loves to put you in your place

Giving massages (erotic massages ofc)

Probably the second most vanilla after Mark. He likes good old fashioned sex and literally just loves to be touched.

Yugyeom

Rough sex

Role play that results in rough sex (punishing, humiliating, etc)

I’m reluctant to say hard dom because he can come out of this role quickly - and he is not really a soft dom.

He will be very clear about consent and safe words too. His partner is always a priority, but sex is a way to release anger, so he usually wants to be totally clear

Loves anal but will never suggest it to his partner

Requests Open!

[luluas-things]

Pedras no caminho? Eu guardo todas.

Um dia vou construir um castelo.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀.. く ﹚̤♡⃨ Yugyeom

⠀ ⠀ ་🧸ꫬ໋ ⠀Moodboard﹚̤♡⃨ ⠀Got7 ▒𓂅⃨

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ﹙𝐸﹚﹫luluas-things ⠀ ▒⃞⃮ 👑 ⠀⠀ᩧ ▒₊ ♡⃨ ︙ love yourself⠀▒⋮ Ꜣ 🦋⠀ ᷧ▒̈

Icon + fundo para usar com o moodboard!

⠀ ⠀ Coloca o crédito se for usar por favor!

[kpopimaginings]

"It's not worth it" - Jinyoung

You knew this would happen. You and Jinyoung had recently announced your relationship to the GOT7 boys. Part of the reason you had kept it quiet early on was because you knew there would be teasing. You could have also predicted that BamBam and Jackson were going to be the main perpetrators.

You were out for a group dinner for the first time since they found out and the teasing started immediately. You honestly weren't too bothered by it, but you noticed Jinyoung's clenched jaw as he glared at the members who were talking. You took his hand under the table and gave it a little squeeze, trying to silently tell him to let it go.

Once the food came out, things quietened down for a moment.

"Don't let them get to you," you whispered to Jinyoung.

He just nodded in acknowledgment, but you knew he hadn't really taken your comment to heart.

As you finished eating, you took Jinyoung's hand again and shot him a little smile.

"Ah, look at you two all loved up," BamBam started again.

"Cut back on the PDA though," Jackson added.

You rolled your eyes at the comment, but once again Jinyoung couldn't let it slide.

"We looked at each other. How is that PDA?"

"Relax, Jinyoung-ie," Jackson told him, before turning to you. "Are you sure about him? He's a bit uptight!"

You bit your lip to keep yourself from chuckling and further annoying your boyfriend.

Then, you jumped slightly as Jinyoung brought his hand down on the table.

"Jinyoung!" you scolded.

"What was the one thing I asked of you, Jackson?" he snapped, ignoring your interjection.

Jackson stared blankly at Jinyoung.

"All I said was don't tease Y/n," he continued. "You can wind me up all you like but when she's around, you knock it off."

"But she's our friend too," Jackson pointed out.

"Yeah, she's used to us, she knows what we're like," BamBam added.

You were about to agree with them, when Jinyoung  spoke again.

"I'm crazy about Y/n, ok? The last thing I want is you idiots scaring her off."

"Jinyoung-ie, that's so sweet," you said, your voice now softer, "And I'm very pleased you want me to stick around, but the boys are right, I've known them for long enough that I expected this. A little teasing among friends isn't going to make me leave."

"Ok, but-"

"No, it's not worth it. I want to be with you, and Jackson and BamBam being littles shits isn't going to change that."

Jinyoung couldn't help but smile and chuckle as the troublemakers complained at your choice of words. Smiling back, you leant in and pecked a soft kiss to his lips.

It surprised you somewhat when the resulting 'Ew' came from Yugyeom.

"Don't you start," you told him with a smile, before resting your head on Jinyoung's shoulder while you waited for desert.

NAVIGATION  |  GOT7 MASTERLIST

[yoon-kooks]

better than sex | myg | 2

🍑Pairing: Yoongi x Producer!Reader

🍑Genre: fluff, smut, studio!au

🍑Summary: As Min Yoongi’s studio neighbor and self-proclaimed nemesis, you’ve always seen him as someone who knew how to maintain a clean, well-put-together image without any careless slip-ups. But after nearly walking in on him with a hand around his cock, you gain a new perspective that leads to steamy fantasies in your bedroom and much-needed inspiration in the studio for Bangtan’s next album. A week before track submissions are due, you give Yoongi a taste of the dirty demo, and now the selfish bastard wants to claim it for his own solo album. In exchange, he offers to help you produce another Bangtan track by the end of the week. Your only condition is for this track to be better than the sexual fantasies that inspired its predecessor.

🍑Word Count: 4.6k

🍑Parts: 1 ◆ 2

🍑Warnings: sex toy cameo, fingering, yoongi won't stop teasing y/n because he's an asshole, a much-needed release for y/n😌

🍊Tuesday🍊

For the 9th time today, you wiggle your mouse around to wake your computer up. The black screen gradually transitions to your decoy desktop background—a shirtless BamBam looking handsome as always under the guise of being your only idol crush. You might have everyone convinced aside from your nemesis, Min Yoongi, and his accomplice, Park Jimin.

And it’s because of said nemesis that you’ve been sitting in the studio for several hours with absolutely nothing to show for it. As much as you hate to admit it, it’s impossible to get any work done with Yoongi constantly invading your thoughts. He’s made a mess of everything.

Now you can’t stop replaying and reliving that fateful moment in your studio yesterday evening.

Yesterday, you kissed Yoongi, and it was over before you knew it. Like how a superhero saves the day and then dips before anyone has a chance to thank them. It leaves behind a mystery of some sort—did you actually witness a real superhero in action, or was it all just a dream?

But despite all the daydreaming you do, you know that kiss was indeed real. There’s no doubt in your mind. Because he kissed you back and you remember what he tastes like. It was like a tiny shot of espresso that fuels your addiction, the kind of taste that’ll keep you coming back for more.

That’s the problem, though. You want more, and you don’t expect Yoongi to just hand himself over to you. Not without a fight. Because that’s what it means to be enemies.

You check the time on your computer—8:26PM. Yoongi said he has a photoshoot until around 9:30, which means you still have enough time to string together a few possible melodies before he gets here. You’ll prove to him that one harmless kiss isn’t enough to render you useless in your own studio.

But then you remember the way he touched you. His hands were a lot more delicate than you’d imagined, and they felt so good against your bare skin, like they were right where they belonged. If he had just gone a little lower, you probably wouldn’t have felt the need to bring your mini vibrator with you to the studio today.

You hate the thought of stooping to Min Yoongi’s level, but no one will ever know as long as you’re discreet about it. At the very least, no one’s catching you with your pants down today because you had the foresight to wear a cute little dress. And besides, you have over an hour to yourself before Yoongi arrives.

After locking the door, you scurry over to the couch in the corner of the room. Where Yoongi has a cold hard piano bench in his studio, you have a nice soft loveseat for strumming away on your guitar. Today, though, it serves a new purpose. 

You wiggle out of your skimpy baby pink thong and toss it aside. Once you’re all situated on the couch with your massager in hand, your hesitant thumb hovers over the power button. You’ve never done something so inappropriate in a workplace before, but the idea of it is thrilling. Maybe this isn’t stooping to Yoongi’s level after all. Maybe you’re just doing it better.

With the press of a button, the vibrator is turned on and so are you. One perk of being a producer is that you’re extra sensitive to sounds. Even a few muffled buzzes are enough to send chills down your spine. Your producer ears must also be the reason why you always feel so wet down there whenever Yoongi speaks in that low honeyed voice of his.

You slip two fingers between your folds and spread them open. It doesn’t come as a surprise anymore that you’re already wet before you get any action. Who needs a bottle of lube when Min Yoongi has taken residence inside your naughty little head?

Gliding the length of the toy up and down yourself, the vibrations pulse and send shockwaves throughout your body from the epicenter. The first contact against your clit sends your head back into the armrest with your back arched in the air. 

In an attempt to maintain a low profile, you suppress a moan and let out a tiny whimper instead. Your walls aren’t as soundproof as Yoongi’s, and you certainly aren’t willing to test the threshold with your lewd sex sounds tonight. 

It might be your imagination, but your panting feels shorter and breathier, as if to make up for the lack of moans from your throat. Your chest naturally moves up and down in rhythm as you begin thrusting the vibrator in and out of you. You must look absolutely wild—like a poor helpless kitten in heat with no one around to lend you a hand.

At some point, your body settles down from the initial thrill of doing something you’re not supposed to be doing in your studio. As the vibrator rests against your erect little bud, you feel like you’re floating on a cloud of indulgence where you forget about everything else and focus only on making yourself feel good. All of your thoughts melt away in the pleasure. It’s calming, hypnotic, and so liberating.

In your dreamlike state, you see Yoongi drifting on the cloud next to you. He watches with sleepy eyes as your vibrator continues to work its magic on you. You tell yourself to stop, but your body keeps going. In fact, your body is suddenly hot with lust now that you know his eyes are on you. Perhaps you secretly love the idea of him walking in and seeing you like this.

If you could, you’d stay on this pleasure high all night.

Knock. “Y/N, it’s me. Can I come in?” It’s Yoongi’s goddamn sexy voice on the other side of your locked door.

No fucking way. 

Your body shoots up, and you glace at your phone. It’s barely 9:00. Yoongi shouldn’t be here yet. But he is. You take it back. There’s no way in hell you’re letting him catch you with a sex toy between your legs.

You shut the vibrator off and throw it into your bag along with your cute little underwear. Once your dress is all straightened up, you open the door as if you weren’t just lost in an orgasmic trance.

The first thing Yoongi does is look you up and down. Then he does it again as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing the first time. “I’ve never seen you wear a dress since you started working here.”

He’s not wrong. Your casual work attire consists of sweatpants, leggings, sweaters, and hoodies when it’s cold, and crop tops and high-waisted shorts when it’s hot. Sure, he’s identified the dress as an outlier, but that doesn’t mean he knows the decision was based on your current sexual urges.

So you decide to let him in and play it cool. “Is that your tsundere way of saying you think I look pretty in this dress?”

Yoongi doesn’t even flinch at your accusation. “It means I noticed something different about you today.” Then he smiles only because he loves to tease you about everything. “But yeah, sure, you look super pretty.”

You frown. That doesn’t count as a genuine compliment. You want him to mean it when he calls you pretty. “Anyway, why are you here so early?”

“You didn’t see my message?” The boy swipes your phone off your desk and hands it to you.

There is indeed an unread text.

Yoongi🍑👹 [8:48PM] “Finished the photoshoot early. Be there in 10.”

“You must’ve been too busy with the song to notice it,” he says, grabbing one of your guitars off the rack and taking a seat right where you’d been pleasuring yourself. “Come up with anything good?”

You shake your head. Quick, what can you say that won’t make you sound pathetic? “Actually, I was waiting for you so that we could make joint decisions on what we want this track to sound like.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you.” He strums a G chord. “Are we still going for a sexy concept?”

That would be the easiest thing to work with right now, seeing how you were able to finish sex.wav in a week with the right inspiration.

You nod, already with a potential prompt in mind: Sleeping with your nemesis because they understand you better than anyone else.

“Are you still going to use me as inspiration?” he asks. You shoot him a dirty look. “I’m just kidding, Y/N.”

He’s not kidding. You can tell he’s enjoying the fact that he’s influenced your music in such a powerful way. And he’s only acting this arrogant because of Jimin’s dumb text about your “raging boner for him.” It’s not fair. What dirt do you have on him aside from knowing he’d jerked off in his studio? You don’t even know who he was getting off to, and he wasn’t ashamed of it either.

“Don’t act like you’ve never written a song about someone you loathe.” This makes him chuckle. Whenever he laughs around you, you feel like you’re doing something right. Making the grumpy boy laugh is a charming skill that you absolutely take pride in.

“That’s fair.” Yoongi frowns when he fails to strum a clean barre chord. He gets up and passes the guitar to you. “Where do you keep your capos?”

“Bottom drawer next to my bag,” you say, pointing in that direction. It’s adorable how the boy’s index finger can’t clamp down on the guitar strings. You wouldn’t expect that from someone with such long adept fingers.

As he digs around through the drawer, you fall back onto the couch and stare up at the ceiling with your guitar. Despite what had happened just the night before, it doesn’t feel all that different with him here right now. The two of you are bickering whilst collaborating in harmony just like any other day.

But that could be because neither of you has brought up the kiss yet. Maybe that’s part of the game—pretend like it never happened. That might be the only way to keep things as they are between you and him.

You wonder how long it’ll last.

“Why was it buried beneath all your other sh—” Yoongi cuts himself off with silence.

“Hm?” You glance over as he rises from his crouch with a red capo in hand.

He shakes his head and waves you off. You fold your legs in to make space for him on the couch. Now you’re curious as to what just went on inside his head. You sit up and study him carefully while he clamps the capo onto the fretboard. Aside from his semi-questionable finger positions for several chords, nothing seems to be wrong or out of place.

“Here, let me do it,” you say softly as you paw for the guitar. Without protest, the instrument is passed to you so you can take the lead.

“I was joking earlier, but what kind of inspiration are you actually looking for with this one?” His eyes follow your fingers as they shift from one chord to the next so seamlessly. 

“Well, what’s better than sexual fantasies?” you ask as innocently as possible. That’s the only criteria for this song. “It needs to be better than that, remember?”

“A Grammy?” He shrugs. You knew it. Music will always be more important to him than his sex life. You suppose it’s been the same for you too. You’d do anything to get Bangtan a Grammy and help Yoongi achieve the biggest goal of any artist’s career.

“Okay, but I’m not writing a Grammy award-winning song about a Grammy, Silly,” you laugh.

“Ah, that’s right. You’d rather find inspiration with someone’s dick inside you,” he says as if it’s not the most vulgar way to put it.

“Just call it physical intimacy.” You shove the snickering boy who proceeds to slide off the couch for dramatic effect. With you, it almost feels like he doesn’t mind acting childish—like he can let his guard down and not be so uptight.

That’s the effect you have on him.

“I bet you’re a lot naughtier than you make yourself out to be,” Yoongi calls up from your cream carpet. He leans his back against the same end of the loveseat you’re sitting at. All you see is the top of his head. The urge to run your fingers through his soft hair is incredibly strong.

“What makes you say that?” You fiddle with the strings on your guitar to keep your fingers busy. You’re genuinely curious, though. Maybe he fantasizes about you too.

“Nothing.” He doesn’t even look at you, as if he’s humming this to himself. There’s definitely something. And it’s kind of pissing you off that he’s leaving you hanging again, just as he had last night after he’d kissed you. If you bring up the kiss, will that get him to talk?

No, you shouldn’t mention it. Do not mention it. If you mention it, you won’t be able to pretend like it never happened. You won’t be able to go back to how things have always been between you and him. 

But perhaps you’re willing to risk it all for something more than that.

“Was it the way I kissed you last night?” you ask. It’s a lot easier to say the K word when you aren’t tempted by his soft lips, which you can now confirm are in fact the softest lips you’ve ever felt.

Yoongi finally turns around to you lying there on the couch. You feel his gaze on your breasts, only covered by the thin white fabric of your dress.

He shakes his head. “It’s the dress.”

You set the guitar aside and look down at how much cleavage and thigh is exposed. The dress is a bit short and flirty, but nothing scandalous. It’s not like you haven’t shown a lot of skin before. You’re both confused and disappointed by his response. “What about it?”

“Like I said, you never wear a dress.” His voice suddenly sounds lower and more serious. “It’s not like you.”

“Sorry I decided to be a little more feminine today, Yoongi,” you mumble, starting to get defensive. Wow, if you’d known he hated the dress that much, you would’ve worn it every day just to get a rise out of him.

“Hey, hey, I’m not complaining about that. It looks good on you.” He quickly locks eyes with you to make sure you know he’s not trying to be an ass right now. For the first time, you believe him. “I’m just saying I feel like there was intent behind it.”

Aha, he must be under the impression that you’ve gotten all dressed up just for him. If he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger after one stupid kiss, he’s sorely mistaken. “Well it wasn’t to impress you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Y/N, c’mon, I’m not that vain.” He ruffles his hair the way you’d wanted to do yourself and leans over your body. The tips of his fingers graze your thigh ever so slightly. If you weren’t watching his every move, you wouldn’t have felt it at all. “You want to know what I was actually thinking?” he asks, focused on the imaginary lines he’s drawing along your skin.

Fuck. He’s using your own battle tactics against you. You nod anyway, scooting your ass closer to him. 

“An innocent dress like this has nothing to unbutton or unzip.” His hand runs up your inner thigh but stops at the skirt of your dress. Without hesitation, you spread your legs just enough to let his wandering hand disappear beneath the white fabric. 

Three fingers slip into your folds and glide against you. On pure instinct, your body jerks toward the boy for more contact. He’s barely touched you, but you’re already feeling weak. You should definitely start wearing dresses more often.

“By the way, I saw your tiny little thong in your bag when I was looking for the capo,” he says while sliding his fingers along your slick surface.

“Fuck you.” It takes everything in you to say those two words without moaning and letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

“I didn’t take you for the cute lingerie type, you know.” Great, he’s back to teasing you like the asshole he is.

Your cheeks are on fire from both embarrassment and pleasure, but mostly pleasure. The petty side of you wants to turn this back around on him. “What kind of lingerie were you imagining me in, then?”

“I don’t usually imagine you in lingerie,” he smirks. You know exactly what he’s implying. Never mind the lingerie—it’s your bare body he thinks about in that filthy head of his. Good. Now you’re certain you’re the one he’d been getting off to that day in his studio. You’ll have to call him out for it later. “So were you just playing with yourself all day until I got here? Poor thing.”

“No.” You hate that it comes out like a desperate whine. 

“Hmm,” Yoongi presses a finger to his lip while his other hand dips into you. Surely he can feel just how wet and swollen you are for him. “Why don’t I believe you?”

It suddenly occurs to you that he must’ve seen the vibrator in your bag too. You suppose you should just own up to it before he gets the satisfaction of bringing it up first. “Regardless, if you’re allowed to have lube in your studio, I’m allowed to have a vibrator in mine.”

“Vibrator?” With lifted brows, he looks genuinely confused. “You mean the thing that looked like a lipstick container in your bag?”

When you’d bought the vibrator, you didn’t actually expect to fool anyone with that phony “discreet” design, but it seems even guys like Yoongi retain a tiny bit of naivety. It’s almost endearing.

“Yes, that thing,” you sigh. In hindsight, you should’ve kept your mouth shut after all.

“Isn’t that a bit small?” He pinches his fingers together for a visual effect. “Or is that how you like your men?”

He thinks he’s so fucking funny, and you hate yourself for almost laughing at the dumb joke.

“You’re really mean today.” You know what he’s doing. He wants you to wonder how long and large he is compared to anyone you’ve slept with in the past. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. “There’s nothing wrong with my vibrator.”

“Then, which feels better?” He circles around your clit at a lazy pace, watching you squirm to his touch. Usually, you’d feel a little shy outside of a dark bedroom, but it doesn’t actually bother you that he can see every lewd expression you make under the bright studio lights. Because he’s picking up on those cues and quickly figuring out what your body likes best. You have to admit he pays attention to what matters. “Your vibrator or my fingers?”

Of course you prefer the boy’s fingers. They’re long, dexterous, and they know what they’re doing. Your vibrator has always felt nice, but his fingers are divine. The last thing you want to do is feed his ego, though. An arrogant guy like him is probably already aware of how good he is in bed.

Instead of answering his question, you roll your hips against him to quicken the pace. You can’t remember the last time you felt this sensitive to someone else’s touch. In fact, the way he’s touching you is an entirely new sensation that you want more of. It feels so good that you almost forget what he asked about. You just need him to keep touching you. 

As soon as the first moan escapes your throat, Yoongi has the smuggest look on his face. And that’s never a good sign.

His fingers make an abrupt stop around your clit. Your deprived body waits in anticipation for the pleasure to continue. Every second feels like an hour until a whole century of pure torture has passed. You almost give in and beg him for more, but he retracts himself completely from your body and sits at the opposite end of the loveseat. His fingers are coated in your lust. 

“I’ll wait until you answer my question,” he says calmly. Must be nice to have the upper hand as the person who isn’t aching for a release. Then again, you aren’t complaining that you’re the one on the receiving end tonight.

You’re mostly just frustrated you don’t have a good answer for his damn question. If you say you prefer your vibrator, he’ll simply toss it to you and let you finish on your own. But if you say you prefer his fingers, it’s like a superhero revealing their weakness to their nemesis. It’ll be a loss either way.

The problem is that you’re painfully horny, and you’d hate to walk out of your studio without getting some form of release. Right now, you hate the sound of that more than losing to your nemesis.

With a groan of frustration, you sit up, scoot into Yoongi’s lap, and drag his hand back down where it belongs. 

“I prefer you,” you say softly.

He nods, pressing a smirk into your lips and backing you into the couch cushions. The kiss this time is tender but still passionate. It’s far more than the little tease he’d given you the first time. You even get to run your fingers through his hair. Nothing about this feels like a loss. 

He pulls back to admire you beneath him and says, “Good answer.”

You moan into his mouth as he continues pleasuring you down there. He finds the perfect rhythm of flicking your little bud, sliding in and out of you, and repeating over and over again like an endless loop fueled by an intense lust for nothing but sex.

“This okay?” he asks, although you’re sure he knows the answer based on how responsive your body’s been to his every touch.

“Mm,” you nod, as lost in the pleasure as your fingers are tangled in his hair. Who knew something so hot and passionate was waiting for you next door this entire time? And with Min Yoongi of all people.

You aren’t sure how much time passes before you feel the orgasm sneaking up on you right on the edge. You try to resist it a little longer, but your body is already past the point of no return.

As you reach your high, you soak in every ounce of sensation his touch has left you with—everything you’ve been missing out on for the past two years. It’s like all those days bickering with Yoongi have led up to this moment. You just hope the walls in your studio are soundproof enough to conceal the name of the boy that slips from your throat. No one else in the building needs to know how weak you are to his touch. He’s your kryptonite.

Your body continues to twitch against his fingers until all of the aftershocks have faded. Then you lie there beneath him, panting a lot harder than you’d like to admit from something as simple as fingering. If you’re already this worked up from his fingers, you’d hate to see the state he’ll leave you in after you get a taste of his cock.

But before you can get your paws on the very visible bulge in his jeans, Yoongi climbs off of you. He offers to help you up with the hand that had just been between your legs. It’s still warm and coated in your milky glaze. 

“Why do you need that little sex toy anyway?” he asks out of nowhere.

“Well, if I had known what was going to happen tonight, I wouldn’t have brought it with me.” You close your thighs and suddenly feel a bit self-conscious. “Besides, it’s not like I really have other options,” you say to the man who just spent the last half-hour giving you one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. 

It’s true, though. Aside from Yoongi, not a single guy has touched you since you started producing music professionally. You’d spent the last two years holed up in your studio creating music for seven talented men and fighting with Min Yoongi. There was never any room for another guy in your life. You don’t have a boyfriend or even just a fuck buddy to satisfy the cravings your vibrator conveniently takes care of.

“I guess I’m just surprised you’re single,” he clarifies. “I heard you get asked out all the time.”

“Where’d you hear that from?” It could be from anyone. You’ve lost track of all the people from different departments and companies who’ve asked you out. There was even a rumor going around that a member of Seventeen had developed a small crush on you after you’d spent some time in their studio producing a track for the group.

“Who do you think?” Yoongi chuckles. Oh, that’s right. He probably pays his trusty accomplice good money to gather info on what you’re up to.

“I really need to stop sharing all my business with the gossip king, Park Jimin,” you sigh. Behind that charming eye smile of his is nothing but trouble. As much as you love Jimin, he’ll always side with Yoongi over you.

“To be fair, it’s pretty obvious that you’re highly sought after.” That must be his way of calling you attractive. Maybe you’re his type. He nods over at your computer. “You know that guy on your screen?”

“You mean BamBam?” How dare he refer to BamBam as “that guy.”

“Yeah, the supposed love of your life or whatever,” he says. Someone sounds bitter. “You know Jungkook is part of that friend group, and he could easily get you That Guy’s number if you really wanted it.”

That’s true, but there’s always something holding you back. “I don’t have time for a guy right now.”

It’s only that way because you make it that way. You could’ve spent this whole week going on dates, pampering yourself, or doing whatever the fuck you wanted, and yet you didn’t have the heart to turn Yoongi away. It turns out you wanted more than just the daily dose of banter you’ve been living off of for too long.

“But you’re making time for me.”

Exactly. Perhaps he doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s the reason you don’t have time for any other guy. Even before he kissed you or touched you, your heart was already made up on him.

“You’re different, Yoongi.” Your tiny voice comes off as timid. It’s not every day that you choose softness over violence against your number one enemy. But he’ll always be the exception, like an accidental on a music staff that adds color and changes a song entirely.

The corners of his lips curve into a gentle smile. Something about the way he looks at you sparks a faint melody in your head. It’s familiar. Then it hits you.

“Do you remember that Grammy award-winning hook I wanted your help with a week ago?” You scramble for your guitar and rip the capo off the fretboard.

The boy watches with amusement as you start strumming and rambling to yourself. “How am I supposed to remember it? You forgot it before I had a chance to hear it, Silly.”

“Well I remember it now,” you hiss back. “And we're gonna get you that Grammy.”

[fairyofjaeyun]

k y g ➳ M.I.L.F. ☆

[18:08] now playing: designer - onlyoneof

[warning] mommy kink, male masturbation, nipple play, cumplay/eating, just sub!yugyeom jerking off to you

2nd person // 0.9k words

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

apartments never really sparked your interest. the idea of being so close to your neighbors gave you anxiety. but after living with you crazy ex-fiance, you needed your independence and the only place that could fit your budget and your standards were nearby apartments.

however, once you moved in you've grown to like the apartments. sure, sometimes you couldn't stand the obnoxious yelling and blaring music your neighbors did but you really did enjoy yourself. and your neighbors enjoyed you too.

somehow, out of all the buildings in the complex, you get put in the one with the wildest and horny boys you've ever met. but you weren't complaining though. now that you were back on the single radar, you were doing far more than you've ever done with your ex. and what's funny is that you have them completely wrapped around your finger.

as you were making your way towards your door, you saw a tall, familiar boy checking his mail. his bright red hair could be seen unmistakenly for miles and damn did his thighs look good in those jeans. your eyes wandered up and down his long legs (and those hips), then traveled to his stomach, wondering if he's still working on those abs. man, does he know how to get you wild up.

"hi, gyeomie~" you finally greeted and he turned to you, giving you a cute smile. "hi, noona. how was your day?" his voice was soft and he ran his hands through his cherry colored hair, which was common while talking to you. he'd also lightly tug on his shirt collar or let his jacket slip down his shoulders to reveal his collarbones, a feature he knew you were fond of. but you pretended to not ever notice. you loved the little shy yet smug look he gave you.

you only hooked up with him once after a night out but that doesn't mean you don't dream about those dancer's hips often. even though he's young and inexperienced, it certainly doesn't show.

"long. I just need to relax and unwind a little," you said suggestively as you leaned against the wall to reveal your cleavage, smirking when you see him struggle to keep his eyes on your face. he lightly tugs his shirt down once he feels the sudden tightness of his jeans, making your eyes trail down to his crotch, he was already somewhat hard. naughty boy. "it's too bad you made plans" your hand slides up his thigh until you meet his boner, it twitches underneath your fingers. "I was hoping for some fun tonight."

yugyeom glanced uneasily at his surroundings, afraid of getting caught. you grin, satisfied with the mess you made of him. while he was struggling to come up with words, he swallowed. his underwear started to feel wet and sticky from how much you were tormenting him. "I-I mean... I could cancel if-" you interrupted. "no, no, no. I'd feel bad. besides, I'm sure momo is dying to see you."

a smirk tugs on your lips at the dumbfounded look on the younger boys face. you pushed yourself off the wall, removing your hands from his erection and coming face to face with him. a soft whimper could be heard as your dark, lustful orbs met with his slightly lighter shades. "by the way, if you wear those jeans and show me those collarbones again, I'll pin you to the wall right then and there so everyone can hear how much of a bitch you are for me."

you give him an innocent smile before smacking his ass and running up the stairs to the second level of the apartment. leaving the poor boy libidinous and desperate for an orgasm.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"fuck~" yugyeom moans into his hand as he thrusts his member into his other hand. trying his best not to wake up his roommate, bambam.

after his encounter with you earlier, he couldn't contain himself as different scenarios played in his head. he just wanted you so bad. the thought of you tugging his cherry strands as you nibbled on his prominent collarbone and stroke his hard, sensitive cock made him pump himself faster.

"oh, mommy." he whined softly. that simple 5 letter word has him quaking. yugyeom shuts his eyes, imagining your wet tongue gliding gradually along his tip, his free hand now rubbing his nipple.

he had to bite his lip to hold back his embarrassingly loud and high-pitched moans, a little whimper and a soft 'mommy' slipping out occasionally.

hot and sticky liquid was now dripping down his hand as he was getting closer to his orgasm. It was pathetic; him fucking himself like this. small beads of sweat dripped down his face making his hair stick to his forehead while his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. chest moving up and down swiftly and erratically, back arched up off the mattress as his fuck himself into his hand. pathetic yet so beautiful.

it was not long until he released onto his chest, jerking off his orgasm. he then sucked the cum off his fingers, moaning as he thought of your praise.

"was I good, mommy?"

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[7ndipity]

7ndipity Song Recs

Thought it'd be fun to share some songs I've been playing this week. Idk if there's a exact theme to this list, other than they all kinda give me late spring/start of summer vibes.

Lmk what you think, and feel free to send me your recommendations💜

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Girls Night - Loossemble. I've had this song stuck in my head almost nonstop since their new album dropped last week, it's just so fun and bouncy!

Lovers or Enemies - CIX. I found this one over the weekend and have lost track of how any times I've played it. The chorus is just soo addictive, I love it!

Creatures in Heaven - Glass Animals. Everything they make just has such a cool vibe to it, I love the way the song slowly builds in intensity, it feels very cinematic.

The Butterfly Effect - Before You Exit. This one popped up in my recommendations a few months ago, and I'm so glad it did, they're one of those hidden gems where Idk why I hadn't heard of them til now(I also highly recommend their song Silence). This one's so heartbreakingly soft, it feels like a 3am confession after a breakup.

Slow Mo - BamBam. I'd heard this one ages ago and couldn't find it when I tried to look it up, and then stumbled across it yesterday! It has this really nice, light flow that I really like.

[braemjeorn]

CHAPTER XVII [masterlist]

pairing: bang chan x ofc

genre/notes: general audience; angst; romance; regency period drama; family fluff; domesticity; ocassional angst; slowburn; governess!oc; nobility!BC; age differences; age changes

wordcount: 4.7k

summary: despite everything, and because of everything, it is only right for the heart to let go.

also available in ao3, if you prefer that format

© Do not repost, copy, or republish into another site or under another name.

⚠️ All characters that shares the name of real life person in this story are represented in a fictional manner for entertainment purpose, and not to be alluded with real life.

TAGLIST: @spookykryptoniteperson @nixtape-foryou @do-you-know-what-else-is-big

Mari herself spent her last days in a sedate manner. She took care to take in every moment and give herself as freely and openly as she might, hoping to make up the best of the days left before the carriage would drive her away. Mari still kept to her usual hours in teaching; the oldest two begged to leave their long equations to sit with the younger ones. The eight of them ended up pursuing a subject together, raising questions and speaking out the opinions they’ve formed. 

“You must not neglect your education—it will always be of some value to you,” Mari said quietly. They had gathered on the terrace outside the study room, huddling close to her—Jeongin had the privilege of sitting on her lap. They were to nap after some walk, but they had asked if they could sit with her instead. All the same, they dozed away in this soft breeze and her softly spoken bits of advice—her last naggings, so it would seem.

Balrnshore’s gardens would bloom in full again, while the Commodore’s stables expand with more horses for the boys to ride, perhaps accompanying their travel to the creek once summer rolled in. Mari would not repeat the season with them again, nor relive last year’s memories by walking through the fields again and seeing all the changes nature blooms into. No good, warm company. That she will regret the most—for the past few evenings she had allowed herself to revel in conversations with the Commodore, whether in making up stories for the boys before the fire or over dinner with Mr Bambam. Commodore Bang would tell tales of his expeditions, and as she worked over her embroidery hoop she mused at how the company of seven children sparks evenings just as warmer and more sweetly than coffee after dinner. It will be so quiet and different in Mrs Ahn’s home. Inha will soon live with Mr Noh, and the other girls will have each other’s company, or leave to teach. And she will be quite alone with her ideas and her embroidery, not knowing when it will be the time for her to speak up and join the company, or constantly wonder if her life is finite in dreary wait for something in between running classes. As if to remove herself from that piercing dream, quietly she roused her charges before they could catch cold in the open air, and helped them upstairs to their softer beds.

Mari checked over her things and clothes again, mostly packed since five days ago from where they had been strewn through the house. Now they are all ready to be carried back but for a few things and her gifts, and now there is not much to do but to pack the last of it on her final day.

Quietly, she went through the house, from the rooms at the top to take in the sights of their halls in the afternoon light. The red tapestries in the western gallery beamed proud and brave; she passed through them to the end of the room, descending the stairs into the front of the house. Soon she was out in the open air, the breeze blowing still to sweep over her face and strands of hair. She descended the stairs into the gravel, and walked round the circular path in front of the house, hastening to near the trees on the northern side. Mari passed between pine trees into the open grassy lawn. It was empty; she laughed. She turned to the high wall behind her—in line with the house, and bordering into the gardens. The breeze called for her to run, but she dismissed it to savour and soak the sights at a slow pace. Such warm afternoon light might not come again to illuminate Barlnshore like this. 

Mari went to the flower gardens, admiring the hydrangeas and other blooms in their circular beds. She was mulling over the carnations—how can one not at the presentation of such fine blossoms!—when slow footsteps notified her of another’s presence. Her eyes found the well-cared boots, black trousers, and the long black coat. Commodore Bang was tall and stately as ever, even as he redirected his steps to approach Mari from his earlier destination, joining her to admire the flowers.

“Beautiful, are they not?”

“Yes.” She turned to meet his eyes, looking down when her face suddenly felt over-warm. “...Yes.”

“Walk with me, Miss Son?” 

The request was an offer all the same; hardly demanding, like he would simply nod and walk on if she refused, but Mari wished to move—and enjoy his company—thus soon they were pacing side by side.

“I’m glad spring has arrived already,” he said. “Thus you have seen all four seasons in Barlnshore.”

“There's an attraction for each season—all year round vivacity blooms about the grounds.”

“Did you enjoy your time here?” Commodore Bang led her under the shades of the trees.

Mari smiled, turning to meet his eyes. “Yes, very much. You have such a beautiful house, sir.”

He laughed and looked at the house, its ivy-covered side, “The imposing thing.”

“Yes, it does seem so from here,” Mari replied. “Like a great cliff by the seas. But I don’t think you’d merit any less sir, with your titles and income. Your station.”

“No material flattery now, Miss Son. It’s hardly worth it.”

“It’s a contributing factor,” Mari insisted, and the Commodore merely sighed. “And I’ve had a good deal of time to make my judgement, and thus my admiration increases more each day. I think I like this grand house better than any other estate in the country.”

His eyebrows raised, “A bold statement!”

“I approve of the arrangements and the decorations—Minatozaki-san's tastes suit mine. But perhaps the warmth of the occupants endears me more to it.”

“You are fond of them?”

“I am,” Mari maintained with warmth. “They make this mansion a home, embracing you in a warmth we all so cherish from a humble cottage.”

“Chaos, if you consider the boys,” Commodore Bang added. Mari burst into a laugh, and their conversation paused as he joined her.

“But otherwise—or even with it!—they are superb company!”

“And in such company, you would remove yourself, Miss Son.”

Mari felt her chest tighten at the words—compressed from the previous ease she had been speaking with. She wrung out a smile, apologetic, and paced ahead of the Commodore, but then he was quick to follow her.

“Forgive me. I ought not to jab you with such flippant remarks when… it is clear…” Commodore Bang huffed, “Oh, why do I keep upsetting you with my words? My apologies would be meaningless.”

Mari slowed her pace, easing her lungs to breathe deeper against the lump in her throat and shook her head. “Sir, you’ve given me much joy and warmth to amend all those wrongs,” she said. “But we each have our obligations and changes to face—and the boys will grow up… and Lady Jang might have her preference as to who will attend them.” 

Mari spoke no more, for she felt further words would betray her. Everything she wanted to say—how much she liked it here, and more so the people: the boys,  him —felt extremely wrong to come out at such a time. In such a situation where promises had been agreed upon. She wishes not to say it, or to confuse her own heart and confound both of them with her wants. But it would be miraculous if she managed that much; if anything her tears would ruin everything first to a fluster.

“Growing up takes a lot of sacrifice, it seemed,” Commodore Bang hummed quietly in the silence. “A great deal of parting is one.”

They were standing by a tall, bush of roses streaming from a wall. The Commodore pulled out a small folded knife from his pocket, with which he cut a bloomed blossom and then smoothed the stem off any thorns. He held out the flower to her, peach and rosy and sweet. Mari felt her ears grow hot while she took it; her whispered thanks were certainly inaudible to the man. She dared not meet his eyes, and cleared her throat, “I hope you’ll forgive me too, sir. For any wrongs I did, especially that time before the piano.”

“Leave with little regrets, Miss Son. You must know I have only gratitude in your regard.”

Commodore Bang only chuckled at her questioning eyes. His words came out more measured as he continued, “You have done so much for us. You struck me awake that day and had revived life and joy back in the place, of the boys. It was necessary, even if I wouldn’t approve then. You were... involved, spiritedly, in a way I should have been but could never bring myself to be. I commend your senses and briskness. Such choice of action would be easily forgotten.”

“My gratitude in return sir,” Mari bows her head. “You have been kinder to me than what I ought to have deserved in my station.” 

“Then let me take the pleasure of parting with you in good faith, better than how we met months ago.” Commodore Bang offered her his hand to shake halfway through his words, and Mari let a smile rise. She gently gave him his hand and revelled in his warm grasp. 

“Do not laugh,” he scoffed at her mirth.

Mischief had sparked to Mari as she looked up then, “You were terrible!”

Commodore Bang sighed. “You know very well I was.”

She gazed over his face, admiring the way black strands fell over his brows, shifting slightly in the wind. Their eyes met, and she stifled a gasp and the urge to look away. His eyebrows were furrowed against the sunlight, but it didn't render his eyes as hard as that night when she first saw him. Mari could not help to smile at the soft crows at the corner of his eyes, more indented with his frequent smiles lately.

 “Everything is well now, Commodore,” Mari said.

“As well as it could be,” he slowly replied. He lowered their hands, releasing hers. They resumed their pace, now turning to the front of the house. Some minutes passed in silence, but it was relieved from burdens or tensions—whatever had been contained in their chests had been said to one another. Mari looked up, turning to the man and found him regarding her. A flush might have trickled up to her face again, but she did not let his gaze deter her.

“Promise you won’t…abandon the boys again?”

“No,” Commodore Bang shook his head, sincerity in his warm eyes. “You have my word. Henceforward, I shall only seek to provide for their happiness and welfare. I have little else to do anyway. Furthermore, I have little intention of letting people coerce me otherwise. Will that do?”

“You have much love for you, sir. I have faith in it to lead you in your decisions,” Mari said. 

They fell again into companionable silence. Mari realised she would speak to him no better than as a stranger after this, and the thought made her sigh, with much heaviness as the Commodore had done. Her companion walked on by her, warm and steady. Mari wondered who else would she have such pleasant walks with. The girls back home walk to town, not on one of her meditative, snail-paced ambling through the hills and groves. Mari and the Commodore returned through the front of the house, and into the inner hall, where some ruddy, pillow-marked faces stared at them with half-closed eyes.

“Why do you stare at us so from the top of that stairs?”

The boys were as still as disgruntled owls. Mari giggled; Commodore Bang huffed.

“She asked you a question, lads. Come down now. Dinner will be ready soon.”

The morning turned cloudy even after breakfast, instead of the warm brightness Mari so adored yesterday. It changed nothing of the day's planned events. She let her trunk be carried down, carrying her outdoor garb to enter the kitchen. She bid her goodbyes and bowed to the maids with her thanks: for they have been so kind and accommodating to her, and she wishes them well. She went out to the garden to see Bernard Park and his undergardeners, saying her goodbyes with her good wishes. Then she went to the front foyer, taking her time hooking up her robe and bonnet. A hand reached up to fasten to the bands of her bonnet, and Mari turned to find Minatozaki-san gently tying a ribbon under her chin. She finished, and Mari leaned to hook her head over the housekeeper's shoulder and wrapped her hands in a hug. The housekeeper stilled for a moment, but soon her hand came round Mari, rubbing her shoulder and enclosing her in warmth.  

“I wish you well, child, wherever you go,” Minatozaki-san said.

She slipped a soft packet into Mari’s hand as they separated, and told her that there was another basket in her carriage (Mari laughed)—filled with condiments and jellies and a few salted goose eggs, like the parcel she had given Mari for the Ahns last time at Christmas. Mari rubbed her eyes as she looked at Minatozaki-san’s face, unabashed but unwilling to cry so early in the separation.

“May I write to you?” Mari asked, relieved at finding her voice still steady.

Minatozaki-san smiled, “I’d like that, Mari.”

Delighted at preserving a friend, whose counsel she cherished, Mari kissed the housekeeper on her cheek with her thanks and received a kiss in exchange. Mari stepped further out to the foyer. Mr Kang Younghyun was there, taking her hand for a cordial shake, smiling as he gave her his parting good wishes—it was like the time they first met at the inn. Mari wished him good health and blessings in return, grasping his hands warmly. Commodore Bang was by the door, in an easy stance as he waited for her. There’s an uncomfortable lump in Mari’s throat already, swelling into fullness in her chest as they face one another. But his lips were set in an easy smile, the light making a halo of his dark hair, and though reluctant, Mari was less intimidated to approach him.

“One last payment, for Miss Son Mari,” said Commodore Bang, before she could phrase anything of sense. There was an envelope in his hand, which he placed upon her hand gently, “Sealed and stamped, with good faith.”

Mari looked up, finding his eyes upon her already. Brown and warm, the lines around it kind, not stern and shadowed as when she had first seen him.

“Thus, I release you from my service.” 

Mari was glad they had spoken the afternoon before, for at this moment she knew not if she could make an apology as well as she had. Her lips let out a whispered thank you as her form hesitates to pull away. Commodore Bang offered his arm. Mari did not refuse him, and they walked out of the front door, descending the stairs to the gravel. The boys had assembled there, chattering and giggling at Mr Bambam’s jokes, but they turned upon her approaching form, and soon their eyes turned mellow. Behind the Mari’s trunks are being tied atop the carriage.

“Let me go first, but I’ll make it short. I’m less significant in your company after all, Miss Son,” Mr Bambam spoke up when the eight of them hesitated; and he gave Mari his hand to shake. “My good wishes for you, Miss Son. God-willing, I’ll be very pleased to meet you again.”

Mari’s heart ached and his earnest eyes; as much as Mr Bambam had implied that they were not close, she always cherished the cheer and friendliness he extended when they shared company.

“That would be delightful, Mr Bambam. Thank you,” she said. “My good wishes for your wife as well,” Mari added quietly. 

With a smile, he inclined his head to her and moved beside the Commodore. 

The boys came before her; the older holding the younger ones before them, much like how Mari had met them in the dark drawing room. But nearly a year, and so much had happened, so many things shared and more familiarity built between them. If her heart had swelled before, now something tightens around it. Mari knows not if it will survive today.

“All right,” she sighed, stepping closer to them and kneeling with extended hands. “One last time. As promised. Come.”

Hyunjin was first, bursting into her hold with such force it tilted her bonnet askew. He said nothing, but Mari let him hold her as tight as he wished.

“I got excited thinking about your paintings, little one,” Mari murmured. “You keep doing what you love, alright Hyunnie?”

Hyunjin nodded mutely, but he gave her a small peck and held her again with a shuddery sigh. She thanked him; there was a wry smile as he made way for his brother. Jisung latched to curl under her neck and sighed deeply as she kissed his brows, somewhat content to nestle into her as he promised to practise his piano better.

“I’ll keep those words, you know?” Mari hummed.

“I suppose you can—I’ll try not to hurry as much.” Jisung leaned back, looking up at her, “Do you think Appa will let me go to that music school if I want?”

Mari heard Commodore Bang shift behind her. “To a conservatory?” she asked. “Do you want to? I think it only matters whether you want to.”

“I do,” Jisung whispered, his nod firm.

“Then you only have to tell him.” 

More assured, Jisung kissed her cheek and stepped away. Then Yongbok bounded to her—she had expected him to join Jisung, but this was just better. Like his twin, he tucked himself under her, and Mari laughed for then it was as if he purred under her. Then he looked up, in all his soft brown eyes and pale-haired cheerful being, and whispered, “You must never take a grave illness, Miss Son, that’s all I ask.”

Her smile came with a laugh and a sigh, the long breath she took to ease her tears back, “I’ll do my best, sweetling.”

It satisfied Yongbok, for then he gave her cheek a long kiss and separated from her for Seungmin. The second youngest toddled to her, making Mari laugh as she held his warm form.

“My strawberries got flowers already,” he declared quietly.

“It did?” Mari asked, a spark of excitement lighting in her.

“I just saw them earlier.”

“You’ll get the fruits in June then, I think.”

Seungmin hummed, muttering that he’d eat them well, then gave her one last warm grasp before letting go. Mari kissed his forehead and rose with a chuckle from where she had been kneeling towards Changbin’s outstretched—with grabby fingers—arms. He was just as tall as her shoulder, so his hands could rest about her waist while she kissed the top of his head.

“Our Changbinie,” she sighed, squeezing his form closer. “My handsome, steadfast, Binnie. I shan’t worry as much knowing you’re here—you’re a very good hyung you know?”

He looked up at her, those dark eyes in soft light, “Do you know you’re a pretty lady, Miss Son? Has anybody told you that?”

Mari chuckles, “I don’t think so.”

“Well, you should know that much. But then I like you more than that,” he finishes, cuddling into her one last time before releasing her.

Jeongin looked up at her from where he was clutching Minho's hand. He had walked into her room as usual this morning. It only took him five seconds to remember that this was her last day with them. He sat on her bed the entire time she brushed her hair, fingers fidgeting over her bedcover. Mari had seen the eldest earlier this morning when they were all dressing up; ushering the others quietly into a huddle and overheard him telling them not to be very distressed about the parting—Mari could not blame him, it would be very hard if the eight of them all cried. But Jeongin took a lot harder time to contain it; his brothers can put on some good humour, restraint or distraction despite the sombre eyes they shared; and Mari would not blame the youngest either for his downturned lips and red eyes. She kneeled back and reached out for him, smiling as she met his watery eyes, just a drop away from flowing out.

“I’ll cry for the last time. But I promise I won’t again,” he whispered, then throwing himself into her arms. “I’ll be a good boy, I promise. I’ll be better.”

She rocked his shaking form and brushed his strewn hair and tears. “You are a good boy, Jeongin, whether you cry or not,” she assured him. “Remember that.” 

She could not hold him long enough until his tears subsided; Minho’s hand on his back reminded him of it. But despite his tears, the boy was not in a fit of cries, his shaky sniffles restrained. Mari kissed his brows and touched their foreheads, finding it harder to tear away from the boy. Hyunjin offered his hand, and the two stood away side by side—the elder being most affected by the younger, thus they shared their sadness leaning toward one another.

Minho approached; grave yet assured. His trembling lips could not speak much, but steady enough to give a smile. Mari pulled him in; being nearly as tall as her, he could hook his head easily upon her shoulder.

“I think I’ll miss you the most,” she whispered. 

There was a hum. “Thank you,” he said after some pause—words did not glide easily out of him today. “I don’t think we’ve said much about how grateful we are. But…—thank you, for everything.”

He nodded, as if assuring himself. But Mari waited. His mouth opened, then he pressed it close and licked his lips, took a breath. “I might as well add that we love you. Lots,” Minho added, a whisper to her hearing.

Mari’schest tightened, so she pulled him close and kissed his brows, with all the love and blessing she might return to the boy. But soon they parted let—and the lack of his warmth alarmed her with the realisation that this was the parting. She had barely comprehended their goodbyes.

The seven of them had assembled back together, and Mari only needed to turn on her heels and step into the carriage to have it done with. But she took one last look at each of their faces; duty reprimanding her to not linger while fondness beseeched her for just five more minutes to remember the lines and angles and the warm light over their tresses. She tried picturing their gleeful face, those days she let them run rampant on the fields. But in the present sombre ambience, they would not be provoked to. Unless she proposed it.

“Do you know? If a ground mole was to poke his head out of the ground today, I believe it would have shaken itself and declared this day as sunny as any other grand one.”

Their blinks seemed to happen together, and soon bewildered frowns or gaping mouths appeared before her. Mari bit her lips to hold her smirk, letting them stare at her long enough before easing her still face into mischief.

“He can feel the warmth but the clouds would have been very blurry to him. If you get the nonsense I’m saying,” she shrugged.

She would have left them in confusion, but it only took one second for Minho to snort out a laugh, and Jisung followed him in realisation—and soon the understanding was shared with everyone. Half of them might have remembered the amusing picture books they read a few days back, and the others might have not a single knowledge or recollection about it, and merely found decent hilarity at her sudden declaration. Ridiculous, but it does the work, for once Changbin made a strangled whimper in holding back his laugh, and everyone bursted into cackles—even Jeongin could not help the smile through his tears.

"Boys?" she called, steadying her smile as they all looked at her. 

"I love you all very much."

Yongbok made a noise between a surprised laugh and a cry, but he nodded even as his fist pressed to his eyes to stop the tears from flowing. Jisung steadied him, and with blotched-faced Hyunjin murmured their love in return. Seungmin and Jeongin stared, the second youngest's tears now breaking out. Minho and Changbin could only smile through the tears. The eldest raised a hand in a wave, and with a warmer heart, Mari turned to the carriage. 

Mari lets Commodore Bang help her in and settle inside. He stood by after closing the door, watching her with a smile and sorrowful eyes. Again, his hand rested upon her window as he shut her door, and it was nearly thoughtless how her hand reached out to it and how he grasped hers back in return. His hold was familiar, and his gaze no less assured and steadfast as it had been the past few days. Some pull compelled her to reach for him, to hold and kiss him as she did to the boys. But no. She blinked away the unbidden thoughts. But the warmth of his palm remained enclosing hers—selfishly she savoured it, the strength and warmth it gave her. Mari looked again into his eyes and saw in them... an urgency. She waited for a breath, then another. But nothing came, and her hand slipped back to her lap. The Commodore let out a heavy breath. She cursed her thoughts upon the man, engaged and promised to a fine lady as he was. 

Still, his shadow loomed over the window, and Mari found his eyebrows now raised in concern to her. Mari would have laughed at the prospect that she might never find another man as attentive, had this day been more humorous. She let out a smile to assure him all was well, while her eyes trailed over that kind face—pale and lined as ever—but loving; nothing less but love and fondness emanating through it. She feared she would forget it. 

He seemed alerted by the lengthy pause they had made by the side of the carriage, so Commodore Bang sighed with a shudder and forced out an easier facade. “Safe journey, Miss Son,” he said.

Commodore Bang stepped away and bid the carriage to drive on; as it shook with motion, her heart felt as if a great hole had been punched into it. Before she knew it they were turning around the fountain. She looked out of the window, turning back to the eight figures behind her.

“Thank you!” she cried out, despite her tightened throat. When she could no longer look from the side window, she turned to the small window on the back. Jisung and Yongbok were running after the carriage, running past the Commodore. They did not make it far until they could only stand still, but Mari looked on—until the carriage turned north, out of the gate, and the house and the parks were completely obstructed from her sight.

For some moments she did not let herself think of anything—neither despair nor disappointment nor happiness. Her eyes trailed over the moving fields and rising hills, until she became aware of the bundles in her hand. Slowly, she opened the one from Minatozaki-san and found inside the softest handkerchief of linen, embroidered with cornflowers in the corners, alongside her initials. She knew it would be a treasured kerchief, to remind herself of the kind housekeeper, a dear friend. The other is from the Commodore, her payment. She could not help but open the flaps, just to savour an item they exchanged. But to her shock, it contained not only the fourth part of her payment but also a cheque for four times the amount. ‘For a good service’ was written on the flap, and for the hours proceeding she could do little but stare at the note, emotions clashing inside her.

sure. talk about flowers, give her one, give her an outrageous bonus, hold her hand, but don't vomit your feelings, chan.

their handholdings would have been outrageous for the time except for the fact that aside from the handshakes, one of them wears gloves when the others don't.

my girl mari and her sense of obligation and her deep longing. we're nearing the end of the tale folks, how are we feeling? please look forward to the grand finale, if I can attempt to conclude it this semester break.