|FROM US TO MORE|

[ TWO YEARS LATER ][ 7th Wedding Anniversary ]

The golden morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master bedroom, casting a warm hue over the soft white sheets tangled between two bodies. Y/n stirred first, blinking sleepily at the ceiling, her fingers naturally reaching for the familiar warmth beside her.

Namjoon was already awake, propped on his elbow, his gaze fixed on her like she was still the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.

“Happy 7th anniversary, Mrs. Kim,” he murmured, brushing his lips softly over her forehead.

Y/n smiled, eyes still closed, “Mmm. Already? Feels like we got married yesterday.”

Namjoon chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “And yet somehow, I’ve fallen harder for you every single day.”

Y/n opened her eyes, heart swelling at the sincerity in his gaze. “You’re so cheesy in the mornings.”

“You married cheese,” he teased, kissing her nose, then her jaw, then—lower.

She gasped and playfully smacked his arm. “We have guests coming tonight! Be decent, Kim Namjoon.”

“I am. Just…celebrating early,” he winked, pulling her into a hug.

..................................................

Y/n had been fluttering around the house like a suspicious little butterfly all morning—on calls she ended abruptly when Namjoon entered the room, whispering to Woomin in a corner and quickly changing topics the moment Namjoon was within earshot.

He narrowed his eyes as he walked into the kitchen and caught her sliding something into the fridge.

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” Y/n chirped a little too quickly, slamming the fridge shut. “Why would I hide anything?”

Namjoon folded his arms, tilting his head. “You’re acting like you’re planning my funeral.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst way to go,” she muttered. “Death by chocolate cake.”

“…what?”

“Nothing.”

....................................................

A little while later, Namjoon tiptoed into the kitchen when he thought she was upstairs. He opened the fridge like it held sacred treasure, eyeing the triple-layered chocolate cake Yoongi had delivered that morning. It had a post-it labeled: “DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THIS – Y/n.”

He peeled off the note without guilt and stuffed a generous bite into his mouth.

“What. Did. I. Say?”

Namjoon spun around, cheeks puffed out like a guilty chipmunk.

“I—uh—I was making sure it wasn’t poisoned?”

Y/n crossed her arms, trying to look stern, but her lips twitched. “Oh? You risked your life for the safety of others?”

“I’m a hero, babe.”

“A hero with frosting on his nose.”

She walked over, wiped the smudge off with her thumb, and smirked. “Unbelievable.”

He leaned closer, voice low. “You love me anyway.”

“That’s the tragedy of it,” she whispered, but there was nothing tragic about the way her smile softened.

Namjoon looked around their kitchen—the same place where they’d had countless chaotic mornings, cake battles, and quiet conversations. “Seven years. It feels fast.”

Y/n reached for his hand, squeezing it. “It feels like home.”

.......................................................

The mansion buzzed with laughter and warmth as guests filled the grand hall. String lights twinkled above, and soft jazz floated through the air. Woomin, looking sharper than ever in a navy suit, raised his glass to his sister and brother-in-law with a proud smile. Hoseok gave Namjoon a bear hug that lifted him off the floor.

“Congrats, old man!”

“Speak for yourself!” Namjoon grinned.

Yoongi sauntered up to the couple with a black box and a smirk. “Your gift.”

Namjoon raised a brow and opened the box—inside was a miniature figurine of Namjoon sitting on a throne made entirely of chocolate bars, wearing a cape that read: “Lord of the Sweet Tooth.”

Y/n howled with laughter.

Namjoon glared. “You’re never letting this go, are you?”

“Not until death,” Yoongi replied solemnly.

As the night went on, Namjoon stayed glued to Y/n’s side. She looked effortlessly beautiful—hair up, cheeks flushed, laughter dancing in her eyes. Even after all these years, she still took his breath away.

At one point, she caught him staring.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… how the hell did I get this lucky?”

“Right place. Right chocolate cake,” she winked.

............................................................

After everyone left, the house grew quiet again. Y/n, exhausted but glowing, slumped onto the couch with a sigh. “My feet are dead.”

Namjoon walked over silently with a warm towel and some lotion, gently lifting her legs into his lap.

“You don’t have to—”

“Shh. I’m pampering you.”

He began massaging her feet while humming one of her favorite songs under his breath.

“You always do this,” she whispered. “After all these years.”

“I always will,” he said softly, kissing her ankle, then her knee.

Y/n leaned forward and cupped his face. “I love you.”

Namjoon rested his forehead against hers. “I love you more than words can carry.”

They stayed there—two people, seven years in, still wrapped in the kind of love most people only dream of. And as she slowly dozed off in his arms, Namjoon whispered against her temple:

“Happy anniversary, my forever girl.”

...................................................

The mansion had fallen silent, the last guest having long departed. Only the faint hum of the city beyond the windows remained as soft music played from the old vinyl record player. The scent of roses lingered in the air. The lights were dimmed, the candles flickering like fireflies in the shadows.

Namjoon stood near the center of their bedroom, undoing the cuffs of his shirt with a tired but satisfied smile.

Y/n walked in barefoot, her makeup slightly smudged from the long night, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. She was still wearing the elegant satin dress from the party, and to Namjoon, she looked unreal — like something carved out of a dream.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low and warm.

Y/n smiled and walked into his arms. “Happy anniversary, Mr. Kim.”

“Seven years of stealing your last bite of dessert,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her. “And yet you still love me.”

“Debatable,” she teased.

Namjoon chuckled against her temple. “Now, where’s my anniversary gift?”

Y/n leaned back and arched a brow. “Impatient, aren’t we? You didn’t even give me mine yet.”

He smirked and stepped away only to grab a small box from the drawer behind him. “Who says I didn’t come prepared?”

Opening it, he revealed a delicate rose-gold necklace with a small teardrop crystal at its center — simple, elegant, and timeless.

“Turn around,” he said softly.

Y/n did, sweeping her hair aside. Namjoon clasped the necklace gently around her neck, his fingers grazing her skin. “Perfect,” he murmured, leaning in and pressing a kiss on her bare shoulder. “But not more than you.”

She turned to face him, lips tugging into a smile. “Cheesy.”

“You married cheesy,” he smirked, pulling her closer, “and you’re going to kiss cheesy right now.”

Their lips met in a soft, slow kiss — one that grew deeper with every second. His hands explored her back, her waist, anchoring her to him as the fire between them reignited. His voice was breathless against her lips. “God, I missed this. Just us.”

But just when things started heating up, Y/n pulled back with a mischievous grin. “Wait.”

Namjoon groaned dramatically. “No.”

“Yes,” she laughed. “Because it’s your turn now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “My turn?”

She nodded and gestured toward the side drawer. “Your gift’s inside.”

With mild confusion and anticipation, Namjoon opened it — finding a slim white envelope tucked neatly inside.

“A… card?” he said slowly, then narrowed his eyes. “If this is another coupon for ‘free hugs and kisses,’ I swear—”

“Just open it,” she said, biting her lip.

Namjoon unfolded the paper and began reading. His eyes scanned it once, twice, and then paused halfway.

Silence.

A beat.

His breath caught.

“…Y/n?”

She said nothing — just nodded gently, eyes shimmering.

Namjoon blinked rapidly and looked down at the report again. “You’re…”

“I’m pregnant,” she said, barely above a whisper. “We’re having a baby.”

His lips parted, stunned.

“…You’re pregnant?” he repeated like he couldn’t trust his voice.

Y/n giggled nervously. “Yes. It’s not a prank. Not like that time with the fake twin story.”

Still, he stared. “You’re serious?”

“I brought backup evidence.” She reached for her purse and handed him the official test results.

Namjoon held the paper like it might disappear if he wasn’t careful. His gaze flicked between the page and her face as the realization finally crashed into him.

“We’re… going to be parents,” he whispered.

He dropped the paper on the bed and crushed her into a hug, lifting her feet slightly off the floor.

“Joon—” she laughed, her voice muffled against his chest.

“I can’t— I don’t know what to say—” he pulled back and cupped her face, his eyes glistening with emotion. “This is the best gift you’ve ever given me.”

She smiled tearfully. “Even better than that limited edition poetry book?”

He gave her a teary laugh. “By a mile.”

Namjoon knelt suddenly, resting his forehead against her stomach. “Hi, little one,” he whispered. “I’m your dad. And I already love you more than anything.”

Y/n’s fingers tangled in his hair, her heart full, her soul grounded.

Namjoon rose and kissed her — slow, reverent, as though memorizing the moment forever.

Then he whispered against her lips, “You’ve given me a home, Y/n. And now, a family.”

She smiled. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”

He nodded. “And I’m with you. Every single step.”

He picked her up gently, carrying her toward the bed as the necklace sparkled against her collarbone.

“You should sit down,” he said with a mock-serious tone. “You’re carrying precious cargo now.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”

Namjoon’s grin turned wolfish. “Say that again.”

“Down, boy.”

They both burst out laughing, falling into a kiss that spoke of promises, of futures, and of the overwhelming love that was about to become something even bigger.

...................................................

The evening air was filled with soft music, the smell of fresh vanilla cake, and the buzz of laughter. Their home was packed with warmth — Yoongi lounging with a mocktail in hand, Hoseok already half-dancing to background jazz, Jimin the butler passing snacks in full formal flair, and Woomin playing some ridiculous card game with Taehyung in the corner.

Y/n leaned into Namjoon as they both stood near the living room entrance, watching their chaotic family in action.

“Are you ready?” Y/n whispered.

Namjoon smirked. “I think they’re more ready than they know.”

Y/n tapped her glass with a spoon.

“Excuse me, everyone!” she announced.

Yoongi turned dramatically. “Are you about to give another speech about how Joon ‘aged like wine’ because we already know.”

“I do not do that,” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Literally five times last night,” Hoseok muttered as he grabbed a handful of nuts.

Namjoon raised his hands, chuckling. “Okay, okay. This is a little different.”

Y/n smiled nervously. “We actually have a surprise.”

Yoongi gasped. “Don’t say you’re adopting a llama.”

“…What?” Namjoon blinked.

Woomin chimed in. “I’d be cool with a llama.”

“No. No llama,” Y/n laughed. “It’s a little more… human.”

Everyone fell quiet.

Namjoon stepped forward, proudly wrapping his arm around Y/n’s waist.

“We’re having a baby,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Silence.

Then—

“WHAAAAAAAAAT?!”

Hoseok almost dropped his drink.

Yoongi sat bolt upright. “You’re kidding.”

Jimin literally gasped, then looked down at the tray of desserts he was holding. “Should I… add baby-themed cupcakes to the menu now?”

Woomin blinked. “So I’m gonna be an uncle? I need a leather jacket.”

Yoongi stood slowly and dramatically walked over to Namjoon. “You’re reproducing.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Should I be offended?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi muttered before pulling both of them into a sudden, tight hug. “I’m so proud of you two.”

Y/n teared up at that.

Yoongi let go and smirked. “So proud, in fact, that I got you the perfect gift. Hold on.”

He walked off to his duffle bag and returned with a giant plush duck wearing glasses and a name tag that said Baby Kim.

“Yoongi,” Namjoon said flatly.

“Every baby needs a mentor,” Yoongi shrugged. “This one gives off philosopher duck vibes.”

Y/n burst out laughing while Hoseok facepalmed.

“Anyway,” Yoongi continued, “you two are going to be amazing parents. But Joon, one word of advice—”

Namjoon raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Start training your back muscles now. Kids are like koalas. They never let go.”

Later That Night — Quiet After the Storm

Everyone had gone home, the dishes were cleared, the lights were dimmed again.

Namjoon walked back into the living room with a warm blanket and found Y/n curled on the couch with her hand over her stomach, smiling softly.

He wrapped the blanket over both of them and sat behind her, pulling her into his lap.

“You were amazing today,” he murmured against her hair.

“So were you,” she said, resting her head on his chest.

They sat there for a while in peaceful silence.

Namjoon then whispered, “I can’t wait to meet them.”

Y/n smiled, teary again. “Me too.”

“But,” Namjoon added, mock-serious, “if the baby comes out looking like Yoongi’s duck, we’re having a word.”

She snorted. “Joon!”

“I’m just saying.”

They laughed until their stomachs hurt — and then held each other like the world could disappear and they’d still be whole.

☆TO BE CONTINUED☆°•○●○•°•○●○•°☆°•○●○•°•○●○•°