“I'm dying.....I'm literally gonna die.” Namjoon groaned as he opened the door to the big, three-story house in Gangnam—bought right beside where his members had also purchased their family homes.

Being the leader of a globally ruling K-pop boy band, as well as the brand ambassador for Bottega Veneta and Samsung, meant his everyday life was a brutal juggle of photoshoots, MV shoots, endless interviews, and managing the beautiful headaches of the members he loved like brothers.

Plus, it had been almost a year since he completed his two-year military service, an experience that had left him stronger, more handsome, and heavily muscled, with a sharp jawline, feline eyes, and a tall stature.

It wasn't even the middle of June, yet the Seoul temperature had already surged past the boiling point. The moment he stepped inside, the refreshing wave of central air conditioning hit him like pure salvation.

“Oh, thank god...” he breathed out, collapsing momentarily against the wall of the entryway. Finally. Peace.

The familiar sound of cartoons echoed from the living room, instantly making him smile. Youngmi, Sunhee, and Seojun had to be in there. It was 7:30 PM, so the timing made sense. He wondered what you were up to—you had mentioned earlier that you'd be out grocery shopping, using the credit card he always insisted you keep to shop to your heart's content.

A soft warmth settled in his chest at the thought of you. It had been eleven years since your relationship began, starting just a few years after BTS debuted, when you were both in your early twenties.

Now, he was 31 while you were 29. You both were practically married at this point, only a diamond ring he needed to slide through your finger.

And with three beautiful children.

Youngmi, your five-year-old firstborn, was a complete replica of Namjoon—sharp, highly intelligent, and possessing a high IQ.

Seojun, your two-and-a-half-year-old son, had your expressive eyes paired with Namjoon's signature dimpled smile.

And baby Sunhee, born at late January of this year, was a five-month-old beauty who took entirely after her mother.

Pushing off the wall, Namjoon locked the front door and tracked the noise straight into the living room.

There they were. Seojun was parked on the edge of the massive sofa, completely engrossed in an episode of Oggy and the Cockroaches on the big screen.

Youngmi sat right beside him, a notebook and pencil balanced on her lap as she diligently solved the basic math equations you had set up for her. Down on the floor, little Sunhee was sitting on her play mat, happily babbling to her plush toys.

“I'm home,” Namjoon announced softly, unbuttoning the top of his shirt to vent the residual heat.

He immediately noticed how both Youngmi and Seojun kept shifting their gazes toward the adjoining modular kitchen. Because Namjoon rarely ventured past the kitchen threshold without accidentally breaking a dish or a cabinet handle, it remained your sacred domain.

“Why are you both staring at the kitchen?” Namjoon asked, crouching down by the couch. Even on his knees, his broad, tall frame looked massive next to the toddlers.

“Ah! Papa!” Youngmi brightened, looking up from her math problems. “When did you get back?”

“Just now,” Namjoon smiled. Hearing his voice, Sunhee abandoned her plushies and wiggled over to his feet, patting his socks with tiny hands and letting out high-pitched babbles. He carefully scooped her up into his bulky arms. “Where's your mama?”

“In the kitchen,” Seojun chimed in, tearing his eyes away from the TV. “She bought sooo many things from the mall today. She said she's making a special dinner!”

“Special dinner?” Namjoon tilted his head, letting Sunhee plant her tiny, sticky palms right on his cheeks. “What is she making?”

Both of the older kids shrugged in unison.

“Don't know? Alright, I'll go check it out.” He gently set Sunhee back down on her play mat, stood up to his full height, and walked over to the kitchen entrance. "Babe? You in there? Whatcha' making?"