epilogue

2 years later...

Sitting with your mother and soon-to-be mother-in-law, while they pored over the minutiae of wedding planning, had you wishing for a simpler- straightforward civil marriage registration at a City Hall, reminiscent of Western customs, seemed increasingly appealing compared to the labyrinth of choices before you.

You never envisioned a fairytale upbringing; growing up in a modest household, your ambitions leaned toward a quiet life with an average working man in a simple apartment. But all that changed when you accepted the proposal of one of the country's wealthiest men.

The midsummer sun bore down relentlessly outside, though the cool interior of your living space provided some respite. Despite this, a dull ache throbbed at the base of your skull. You took a long sip of Green Plum tea, its tangy warmth momentarily soothing.

Mrs. Kim's recent focus on adopting a healthier lifestyle, prompted by your challenging pregnancy with your two-year-old daughter, Nami, had necessitated a delay in wedding plans. Grateful for Namjoon's support during your postpartum struggles, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension as Mrs. Kim and her entourage delved into wedding preparations with gusto.

For weeks, Namjoon had juggled his responsibilities as CEO with caregiving duties, demonstrating a commitment that bordered on self-sacrifice. His willingness to work remotely to support your recovery underscored his devotion.

'S why it's understandable for Mrs. Kim to worry this much, but you are just a grateful as she takes great care of you.

As Mrs. Kim perused color schemes and décor options, your unease grew palpable. The wedding was still four months away, yet the sudden invasion of your home by designers and staff felt overwhelming.

"I think we should wait for Joon, don't you?" you interjected tentatively, longing for your fiancé's reassuring presence.

"Trust me, dear. My son has no sense of taste. He's just like his father," Mrs. Kim chuckled, resplendent in her latest Valentino creation, a chiffon summer dress.

"The wedding isn't for another four months. Surely, we don't need to rush into decisions," you suggested, trying to temper the frenzy.

"Oh, but we must. November is notoriously busy. Besides, money isn't a problem at all, but it's best to have the advantage," Mrs. Kim replied confidently.

You have no doubt about the budget for this monumental, once-in-a-lifetime occasion, but now that you have a growing family and a little girl, it was best to be practical.

Your mother, sensing your discomfort, gently inquired, "Is it all too much for you?"

"It's just a bit overwhelming, that's all," you replied, masking your anxiety.

"Shall we reschedule, madam?" one of the tailors queried, prompting Mrs. Kim to glance at you.

Guilt gnawed at you as Mrs. Kim rose from her seat, her sadness thinly veiled. "Ladies, gentlemen, thank you, but I believe we should reconvene at a later date."

"No, that's not necessary," you kindly tell them. "Could you please give us a moment?"

You were just not expecting it to become such a big deal, but you should've expected the impossible when it was Kim Namjoon getting married to you.

"Yes, of course, madam." They bowed, following after Mrs. Han down the hall.

Apologies tumbled from Mrs. Kim's lips as she turned to you, her expression softened with understanding. "I may have been too overbearing. I only wanted to make the planning process smoother."

The look on her face was enough for you to feel like the biggest asshole. "No, thank you for doing this for us. I appreciate it." You rose to face her, your elegant black dress swishing around your ankles.

Even though you had been skeptical at first, you don't like wasting other people's time. And having all of these people to help you out made you feel a little lighter.

The older woman took your hands in hers, squeezing them with reassurance. Before she could speak, the sound of approaching footsteps and gleeful laughter drew your attention.

"Mommy!"

You wished you'd brace yourself as the impact came right after when she clung to your legs, mono eyelids looking up at you with a kind of innocence that would heal even the most wounded soldiers.

Your heart swelled at the sight of Nami toddling toward you, Namjoon trailing behind. Scooping her up in your arms, you showered her with kisses, relishing in her infectious joy.

Her hair was fashioned into a tiny, lopsided bun— courtesy of Namjoon, a reminder of his nightly rituals spent watching endless hair tutorials so he could replicate the look for Nami when you were too exhausted to manage.

These small gestures just show his dedication to fatherhood, something that never fails to stir a tender ache in your heart.

In those wholesome moments, you found depths of love for Namjoon you hadn't known existed.

As she babbled about her adventures with her father, you glanced at Namjoon, whose rugged appearance only heightened your affection.

"Hi, my baby. Did you have fun with Daddy?"

It's his favorite sight. Seeing you both in such a raw, vulnerable state that reminds him of the first time you held her in your arms, tears streaming down your face as her cries echoed the walls of the labor room. And hearing your soft voice filled with adoration as you ask about Nami's day, really does it for him.

"Yup... We had stowberryy ice cream!" Nami exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she cuddled to your chest.

Smiling at his daughter's adorable mispronunciation of the word 'strawberry,' Namjoon couldn't help but shake his head in amusement, a soft smile playing on his lips.

As the day progressed, Nami's curiosity seemed to bloom like a delicate flower in springtime. Each passing moment brought forth new questions and curiosities, her eagerness to learn about the world around her apparent in every inquisitive glance and enthusiastic gesture. Just like him, her fascination knew no bounds.

You snap your gaze to your fiancé, and you almost choke on your saliva when you find him in his gym outfit. His olive skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, tiny droplets tracing a path down his temple and along the curve of his neck, adding a glimmering allure to his features.

The heat outside was evident in the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the subtle flex of muscles beneath his skin.

His simple attire gave a glimpse of the dedication and effort he poured into sculpting his physique. The grey shorts, hugging his hips snugly, showcased the finely chiseled contours of his thighs.

With each movement, the fabric stretched taut against his skin, accentuating every sinew and curve. The black shirt, clinging to him like a second skin, emphasized the impressive breadth of his shoulders and the sharp definition of his arms. Every flex of muscle sent ripples cascading through the fabric, a visual of the raw power coiled beneath the surface.

In that moment, as he stood before you, his presence commanded attention from every person in the room.

Clearing his throat, he made no attempt to conceal his amusement as he observed your reaction, closing the gap between you with purposeful strides. The room seemed to shrink in his presence, and the intensity of your love for him pulsed wildly.

God, you were so inlove. Anyone in the room with eyes could see it.

With a casual grace, Namjoon greeted his mother, planting a kiss on her cheek despite her initial protest at his sweaty state.

She relented, her resistance melting under the warmth of his affection. Then, with a respectful nod, he acknowledged your own mother. As he closed the distance between you, his gaze brimming with affection, you felt a surge of love that rendered you breathless.

Your daughter squirmed in your arms, her giggles filling the room as she reached for her father, her adoration evident in the gleam of her eyes.

"Hey, baby," he smiles at you, his voice above a whisper. You simply lean your body into him as he gently cups your jaw, stroking a thumb over your cheekbone before his lingering gaze drops to your inviting lips.

"Hi."

Without a care for anyone in the room watching, he crashes his warm lips on yours. Seconds pass and you expect him to pull away, but he takes his time tasting you like it's the first time.

When he finally pulls away, a rosy tint stains your cheeks, the embarrassment of being caught in such an intimate moment overshadowed by the joyful sound of Nami's laughter. Seeing her Mommy and Daddy being so affectionate isn't new to her.

Namjoon licked his lips shamelessly before he goes to wipe your lips clean with his thumb.

"Oh, how the time flies. Look at you!" Your mother's fond exclamation draws Namjoon's attention to Nami, who peeks shyly from behind your shoulder. His gaze softens at the sight of their daughter, a tender smile gracing his lips.

"Pretty girl," your mother continues, her voice filled with adoration.

Mrs. Kim chimes in, her cellphone already in hand as she captures a few candid shots of Nami. "She has Y/N's little nose, doesn't she?"

Namjoon's hand gently strokes Nami's back as he asserts, "That's my daughter too, Mom. Of course, she's beautiful. She takes after both of us."

Mrs. Kim's response is tinged with a hint of disappointment as she rolls her eyes. "It's a shame your father had to tend to a meeting with new investors. Nothing is more important than seeing our only granddaughter. Hmph. Now he's demanding photos of her."

"Nam, did you say hi to grandma yet?"

Shyly, Nami shakes her head, her eyes flickering with a mixture of shyness and curiosity.

"Hey, sweetie. Grandma brought a gift. Wanna see it?" your mother coaxes, her voice warm and inviting.

With a soft coo, your mon extends to offer her hands, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. You've often marveled at the similarities between Nami and Namjoon—the same stubbornness and intelligence shining through. Even the dimples on her chubby cheeks look like the carbon copy of his.

You can't help but laugh as you pass Nami to your mom, who eagerly accepts the little bundle of energy. Without protest, Nami happily accompanies her grandmother, their laughter fading as they disappear down the hallway toward Nami's bedroom.

You never have to worry with other people around. She gets along well with most. Though you've found that it's quite hard to leave her alone with Mrs. Han when you and Namjoon had to go to work. She'd often cry, so one of you had to bring her to the office, which was mostly Namjoon.

"What were you guys up to while we were gone?" Namjoon rests his hand on your back, pulling you closer to his side as he shifts his attention to his mother curiously.

"Just girl things..." Mrs. Kim casually answers.

"Wedding preparations," you clarify, doing your absolute best to ignore his attractive smell that has your insides twisting. Fuck. It's definitely the pheromones.

And for some reason, the sexual tension between the both of you had only gotten worse after you gave birth. You'd think that you'd refrain from rushing into anything knowing how painful it was the first time, but now, it's like you forgot how it was like.

You would sink your nose into him if you could, but that's highly inappropriate during a time like this, so you try to focus.

Namjoon makes it difficult though, as his fingers trace the outline of your spine, unbeknownst to your future mother-in-law, who is too busy looking at the photos of wedding venues flashed on an iPad screen.

"Should I go then?" Namjoon eyes you, unaware why you're suddenly quiet. "You need me?"

You gulp, unable to tear your gaze from his mouth.

"Y/N," he warns. He rarely calls you by your name. He often calls you nicknames that get your insides melting, but when he calls you by your name, your mind goes blank.

You blink up innocently, knowing he's caught up with whatever you're thinking, which has him biting his lips.

"Yes?"

"Do you need my opinion about any of this?"

"Uh, just the venue. You don't mind outdoors, right?"

"Whatever you want, baby," he tells you. "I'm sure they'll make your imagination come to life."

"Even when it's windy, cold, and... wet outside?" The insinuation in your tone doesn't go unnoticed by him as he squeezes your side.

You're almost too ashamed to look in your future mother-in-law's direction, but you're surprised to find that the space she occupied earlier is now empty.

And then, before you can even process her absence, you're being dragged into the entertainment room, where you usually hang out with friends and visitors.

The lock clicks and Namjoon bends you over a pool table, your chest and cheek pressed against the hard wood. "Joon!" You gasp loudly.

He chuckles, his muscled chest trapping you. "Sorry, hun. I don't think I can last another minute in a room without touching you."

"Seriously, your mother—"

"Had to take a call," he finishes.

"There are people waiting for us!" You hiss, scolding him. He kisses you once more, squeezing your face. Your mouth forms an 'o'.

"Don't worry. I'll be quick."

You grunt in protest but can't help the roll of your ass against his growing erection. "There's no such thing as 'quick' for you. You end up going for another round."

"And you let me. Everytime." You wish he was wrong, but he's not. "Now, will you let me fuck you?"

"If you stay quiet."

His chest rumbles with laughter. "You're worried about me? Really?"

"Oh, zip it. Are you gonna put it in or not?"

"Eager, are we?" He teases you, bunching your dress up your legs until he can see your lilac lace panties. It might as well have been bare because it left nothing to the imagination.

With extreme tenderness, his fingers trace over the stretch marks spread across the side of your thighs and lower back.

For a second, no words leave him and you start to become self-conscious. But when you feel his breath on your skin, everything stops and all you can do is close your eyes and savor his warm lips.

"You're so beautiful, baby," he whispers against your skin. He kisses, again. And that melts away any lingering insecurities. "I love your body."

And you know he means it. Worships you in ways only he knew. Even during your pregnancy, he never made you feel any less beautiful. Never fails to shower you with compliments just because he knows how you get when emotional.

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest listening to him. "I love your body for carrying our beautiful baby girl for nine whole months." His kisses turn nibbling as he travels lower and his knees hit the floor.

Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his mouth on your clothed core. The invasion of his warm tongue on your entrance has you squirming with anticipation.

"Joon..." You clench your thighs when his kisses turn into full-on sucking. The fabric sticks to your cunt, until it doesn't, and he's pulling the material down your legs, spreading your legs apart with his strong arms while he forces his tongue into you.

In between your dripping flesh, accompanied by the friction of his nose on your clit, have you sopping wet. You can practically hear the movements of his mouth every time he hits a certain spot.

What's left of your well-maintained, short nails scratches desperately at the edge of the table, your entire body convulsing with each stroke of his hot tongue.

The noises coming out of you are so lewd, but they are nothing compared to the way he hums and whines at the taste of you. He eats you out like your breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack all together. The only diet he needs. He should be a hypocrite. His love for the wildlife and nature doesn't come close to this.

He's obsessed.

As he should. You are his soon-to-be-wife, after all. You deserve to be treated with nothing but the best things in life.

And if those things include making you feel like you're on cloud nine, then he'd gladly shove his tongue down your walls if time allows.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cry out, muffling your own sounds with a hand over your mouth. He loves the sound of you during intimate moments between you two. "Oh God-"

It gets him even harder- if that was even possible- strokes his ego, and boosts his self-confidence, not like he lacks it, but it's always good to know you enjoy this as much as him.

Eyes rolling behind your lids, you felt him fasten his pace, his hands tightening around your thighs so hard you think it's gonna leave bruises tomorrow, as he brings you to your climax.

"So close— umph—" You whimper, matching his pace by meeting his tongue with you own thrusts, desperate for a release. Switching, he angles his head so that he can bury his face deeper into you.

He flicks your sensitive nub before he draws infinite circles over it with his middle finger. Then, he sucks. Hard. And you're body jolts forward with unimaginable pleasure. He doesn't let go of you even when you're trying to push him away from the overstimulation. He laps your juices up and down your inner thighs, licking a long stripe with his tongue until he's satisfied.

He presses a final kiss to your ass cheek before he stands up to hold you against his chest. You let out an exhausted sigh, turning around to face him. Immediately, you grab his face and smash your lips against his, tasting yourself on him. He groans against your mouth, holding you tight.

Finally, you pull away to catch your breath. "You're unbelievable, Kim Namjoon."

He stares at you lovingly, his gaze a tender caress as he reaches for your hand, cradling it gently in his own. He presses a kiss to your ring finger, his lips lingering over the gleaming band of the engagement ring he bestowed upon you almost two years ago. The diamond catches in the soft light, casting prismatic reflections that dance across the room, a tangible symbol of the love and commitment you share.

As his lips meet the metal, a rush of cherished memories floods your mind. The day he knelt before you, the look in his eyes as he popped the question, the overwhelming joy as he finally slipped the ring onto your finger.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you meet his unwavering gaze. He never breaks eye contact, his silent reassurance a cure to your soul.

You blink back tears, willing yourself to hold it together, to bask in this moment of intimacy.

But you know yourself too well— your heart wears its emotions on its sleeve, and in the presence of his unwavering devotion, you never fail to succumb to the emotion, even at the most unexpected times.

With a shaky breath, you offer him a watery smile, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man before you. In his eyes, you find a reflection of your own emotions, but he quickly lightens the mood.

"Is that your way of saying 'thank you for the wonderful orgasm'?"

"No, it's my way of saying I love you."

He smiles sheepishly before he picks you up by the back of your thighs to position you on top of the pool table. "I love you too, baby. But we're not done. I need to feel all of you."

You roll your eyes at him, giggling like a teenager. You're both flushed and there's no way you'd let anyone else have an idea of what you were both up to in here. Even doing this in your own home feels illegal.

"Let's make this fast, then."

✧ ─────── ✦

a/n; the last stretch for this plot! sorry it took so long to write, I had no idea how to begin but today, I finally found my footing and ran with it. Hope you guys liked it! Thank you again for over 50k reads! Maybe I'll do a drabble with each milestone we hit. Let me know your thoughts <3

{{also go give some love to my newest book if you missed me hehe}}