➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Slopes, Chaos, and a CEO in the Snow”
The next morning in Manali started peacefully. Snow glittered on the rooftops. The sun peeked out. The air was crisp.
…And then Diljit’s voice echoed through the cabin like a war horn.
“WAKE UP, WE GO SKIINGGGGG!”
Seo-joon groaned from under three blankets. Sung-hwan tried to bargain for “ten more minutes of life.” Wooshik looked like someone had just told him his Wi-Fi was gone.
Meanwhile, Taehyung and Y/N were already up, dressed, and feeding Princess breakfast like the annoyingly perfect couple they were.
The Ski Gear Chaos
Hyung-sik put his skis on backward. Seo-joon got his scarf tangled in his helmet. Diljit showed up in neon yellow ski pants, claiming, “It’s for visibility.” Sung-hwan? Looked like an alpine yeti.
Taehyung helped Y/N zip her jacket, adjusting her scarf with so much care that Wooshik muttered, “Bro, you’re making single people here suffer.”
Y/N facepalmed.
The Race Announcement
While practicing, Diljit yelled, “RACE!” And that’s how it began.
The contenders:
• Y/N (secretly competitive queen)
• Taehyung (CEO who thinks he can do anything)
• Diljit (chaotic Punjabi energy)
• Seo-joon (claims he’s “fast” because he’s tall)
Hyung-sik and Sung-hwan stayed behind to babysit Princess and film the disaster.
The Countdown
Diljit: “Three…” Seo-joon: “Wait, how do we brake again—” Diljit: “Two…” Taehyung (smirking at Y/N): “Try to keep up, love.” Y/N (evil grin): “You’ll eat snow, Mr. Mafia.”
“One!”
The Race
They shot off like caffeinated penguins. Diljit screamed the entire way down. Seo-joon fell within ten seconds, rolling halfway like a human snowball.
Y/N? Laser-focused. Concentration scowl on. Weaving through the slopes like she was born there.
Taehyung tried to catch up, but she overtook him at the last stretch, skidding to the finish line with a triumphant “HA!”
At the Bottom
Y/N threw her arms up like an Olympic champ. Taehyung arrived a few seconds later, breathless and laughing.
Taehyung: “You’re… never… living this down, huh?” Y/N: “Absolutely not.”
Diljit arrived last, falling right at the finish line but still shouting, “I’M ALIVE!”
Seo-joon appeared ten minutes later, still picking snow out of his mouth.
The Aftermath
Back at the cabin, Y/N wore her imaginary gold medal all day. Princess clapped whenever she saw her, because Taehyung had told her, “Aunt won the big race.”
That night, by the fireplace, Taehyung leaned close and whispered,
“Next time, I’m winning.”
Y/N smirked,
“We will see.”
Diljit, from across the room,
“Next time, I’m bringing a snowmobile.”
Scene Title: “Steam, Snow, and an Overprotective CEO”
After the ski day chaos, Diljit insisted they had to visit the natural hot springs.
“It’s Manali! You don’t go in hot springs? That’s like… eating momos without chutney.”
The Wooga Squad agreed instantly. Y/N? Excited. Taehyung? Suspicious.
The Arrival
Steam curled into the frosty air. The springs were surrounded by snow-covered rocks, and the water shimmered under the soft glow of lanterns.
Everyone started getting ready to step in.
Y/N, in her swimsuit, wrapped a towel around herself and walked carefully toward the water.
Taehyung? Already shadowing her every move like a bodyguard-slash-lover-slash-paranoid-parent.
“Careful. It’s slippery.” “I know.” “Hold my hand.” “Taehyung, I can—” “Nope. Hold it.”
She sighed but slipped her hand into his anyway.
Entering the Water
As soon as she dipped her toes in, Y/N gasped.
“It’s so warm—”
Taehyung immediately tightened his grip.
“Easy… don’t rush in. You might slip.”
Seo-joon: “Bro, she’s literally standing still.” Taehyung shot him a glare that could freeze the spring over.
Once Inside
Y/N leaned back against the smooth rock, sighing in bliss. The warmth seeped into her muscles, making her eyelids heavy.
Meanwhile, Taehyung was half enjoying the water… half scanning the area like he was in a mafia meeting.
“Taehyung…” “Hmm?” “Stop looking like you’re about to execute someone.” “I’m making sure no one splashes you.”
She giggled,
“You think Diljit is going to start a water fight?”
Cue splash from Diljit in the distance.
Taehyung: death glare engaged.
The Overprotective Moment
When Y/N shifted to adjust her position, Taehyung was instantly there.
“Careful—here, lean on me.”
She rolled her eyes but ended up leaning against his chest anyway. His arms slid around her waist, holding her securely in the warm water.
“Better?” he murmured. “…Yeah.”
Princess, sitting in a smaller shallow spring with Hyung-sik, waved at them and splashed her little hands. Y/N waved back, smiling, while Taehyung whispered,
“You look even more beautiful with steam in your hair.”
Seo-joon from across the pool: “Bro. Romance elsewhere. Some of us are single.”
The Ending
By the time they left, Y/N was relaxed to the point of sleepiness, bundled up in Taehyung’s jacket while he carried her shoes.
As they walked back to the cabin, he muttered,
“Next time, I’m renting the entire spring so we’re alone.”
Y/N laughed softly,
“Next time, I’ll push you in first.”
Scene Title: “Snowflakes, Piggybacks, and Public Embarrassment”
Manali at night looked like something straight out of a fairy tale — snow glittering under the street lamps, pine trees draped in white, and the air so crisp it felt like biting into a mint.
Y/N was bundled up in an oversized scarf, her nose pink from the cold.
“Taehyung… my toes are frozen.”
He glanced down at her boots.
“You’re walking like a penguin.”
She groaned,
“Because I am a penguin right now. Carry me.”
Without another word, Taehyung crouched down in the snow.
“Hop on.”
“Taehyung, I was kidding—” “Hop. On.”
Y/N climbed onto his back, sighing heavily, as he hoisted her up effortlessly.
The Walk
The Wooga Squad trailed behind, watching the scene unfold.
Seo-joon cupped his hands around his mouth:
“TAEHYUNG, IS THIS YOUR WEDDING PHOTOSHOOT AUDITION?”
Hyung-sik snorted,
“Man’s giving free cab service in the snow.”
Sung-hwan added dramatically,
“Look at him. CEO of Kim Conglomerate reduced to UberHusband.”
Diljit’s Contribution
Diljit, never missing a chance for chaos, jogged up beside Taehyung:
“Bhai, give her to me, I’ll carry her faster!”
Taehyung did not slow down.
“Touch her and I’ll drop you in a snowbank.”
Y/N, hiding her smile in her scarf, whispered,
“Possessive much?”
“Always.”
The Snowfall Moment
Halfway to the cabin, snow began to fall gently, tiny flakes catching in Y/N’s hair.
Taehyung tilted his head so he could glance at her.
“You’ve got snow in your lashes.”
“You’ve got steam coming out of your mouth like a dragon.”
He chuckled, adjusting his grip to keep her warm.
“We’ll remember this forever.”
From behind, Woo-shik yelled,
“WE’LL remember it too, thanks to the PDA!”
The Arrival
By the time they reached the cabin, Y/N’s cheeks were warm from laughter, not just the scarf.
Taehyung set her down gently at the door.
“Next time, I’m carrying you the whole trip.”
She smirked,
“In your dreams.”
Scene Title: “Fireplace, Board Games, and Taehyung’s Lap Agenda”
The cabin was a warm haven against the snowy night outside — crackling fire, fairy lights strung along wooden beams, and the smell of hot cocoa filling the air.
Seo-joon, Hyung-sik, Sung-hwan, Diljit, Wooshik, Yuri, and her fiancé were sprawled across the plush rugs and couches. Y/N was curled up on a single armchair, mug in hand, looking like a Pinterest ad for “cozy winter vibes.”
The Board Game Setup
Hyung-sik shuffled a deck of cards.
“We’re playing UNO. Winner gets bragging rights. Loser does a snow angel outside… in just their socks.”
Round one and Taehyung was already cheating — not even subtly. Y/N caught him hiding a Draw 4 under his thigh.
“You’re such a sore loser.”
“Strategist,” he corrected.
Diljit slapped down a Reverse card.
“Strategy this, bhai.”
When Yuri won a round, her fiancé scooped her up in a dramatic spin. Hyung-sik groaned,
“Great. Lovebirds everywhere.”
Seo-joon pointed at Taehyung and Y/N squished in the chair.
“Says the man glaring at our lovebirds.”
The Snow Angel Dare
Sung-hwan lost the final round. The squad forced him outside, chanting,
“ANGEL! ANGEL! ANGEL!”
While Sung-hwan flopped into the snow dramatically, Taehyung leaned in close to Y/N’s ear, murmuring just for her:
“If I lost, I’d make you come out with me.”
She smirked,
“If you lost, I’d push you in myself.”
The Firelight Moment
Later, when everyone was sprawled around the fire half-asleep, Taehyung coaxed Y/N to sit on the floor between his legs, wrapping a blanket around both of them. His chin rested on her shoulder, voice low.
“Best trip so far.”
“Even with all the roasting?”
“Especially with the roasting. Means we’re family now.”
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Dance Floor? No. Dance Battlefield.”
The snow had barely settled on the pine branches when the music inside the pre-wedding hall took a dramatic turn. Gone were the soft, romantic Bollywood ballads from earlier.
Instead— Dhol. Bass. The kind of Punjabi wedding beat that physically picks you up and throws you onto the dance floor whether you like it or not.
From the corner, Diljit’s sunglasses caught the fairy light glow. He spotted the Wooga Squad like a hawk spotting prey.
Diljit: “OYE! Enough standing like background extras! Aaja, dance floor te!” (Come to the dance floor!)
Before anyone could breathe, he had already grabbed Taehyung, Y/N, Seo-joon, Hyung-sik, and Sung-hwan, dragging them forward like a human bulldozer.
The DJ blasted Ainvayi Ainvayi, and that was it. No one was safe.
Taehyung gave Y/N a look—half “we’re doing this?” and half “God help me”. Y/N smirked and shrugged, already rolling her shoulders to the beat.
Wooshik came skidding over from the snack table. “What’s—” “NO QUESTIONS, ONLY DANCE!” Diljit barked, yanking him into the circle.
In seconds, the floor was alive:
• Diljit in the center, stomping the ground like he was summoning ancestors.
• Taehyung moving with dangerously smooth precision—half mafia swag, half shaadi ka thumka.
• Seo-joon and Hyung-sik—absolutely losing it, trying to match each other’s hip moves.
• Sung-hwan—somehow doing bhangra AND dad-dancing at the same time.
And then— Y/N joined in.
Oh, she didn’t just join in—she owned it. Hair bouncing, bangles jingling, eyes sparkling—she hit every beat like she was born in a Bollywood dance number. Even Taehyung stopped mid-step just to watch her, that proud little smile twitching at his lips.
The crowd noticed. Whistles erupted. A few aunties clapped. One uncle muttered, “Bas, bas, dulha bhag jayega…” (Stop, stop, the groom will run away…)
That’s when the bride-to-be, Yuri, stormed in like royalty, dragging her fiancé Amarjit (Diljit’s older brother) with her. They dove straight into a giddha–bhangra fusion, pulling Y/N and Taehyung into the center.
Now it was full chaos:
• Yuri twirling like her lehenga was made of fire.
• Amarjit and Diljit doing shoulder drops so aggressive, the DJ had to turn up the bass.
• Y/N laughing so hard she nearly missed a beat—only for Taehyung to catch her wrist and spin her back in, his hand warm and sure at her waist.
• Seo-joon attempting a Bollywood hip swirl while laughing and looking like he’d pulled a muscle.
• Hyung-sik and Sung-hwan creating a two-man bhangra wall that blocked Wooshik’s escape route.
Princess? Safely perched on a grandma’s lap at the edge of the hall, clapping wildly and kicking her little legs like the tiniest hype-woman alive.
The DJ transitioned into Morni Banke, and the crowd turned feral. Phones were out. Cheering was deafening.
Taehyung leaned in to Y/N mid-spin, slightly breathless.
“You didn’t tell me Punjabis have this much stamina.”
Y/N grinned, cheeks flushed, eyes glinting under the fairy lights.
“This is only the warm-up.”
And just as Taehyung looked both impressed and mildly terrified— Diljit slapped him on the back.
“Next song, veere…we’re lifting people.”
Taehyung blinked.
“…What?”
The music blasted. The crowd roared. And before he knew it—Taehyung was hoisted on the shoulders of Amarjit and Diljit, the CEO of Kim Conglomerates reduced to a giggling mess as Y/N cheered from below, recording him, hands cupped around her mouth like his personal cheerleader.
Manali’s snowy peaks had probably never heard this much laughter and dhol in their lives.
Scene Title: “Manali Express: Population — Chaos”
The next morning, after a night of dhol beats, food comas, and Taehyung questioning his life choices while being tossed in the air by Punjabis, the crew was supposed to leave early for their Manali trip.
Supposed to.
8:00 AM – Official plan: “We leave sharp.” 10:47 AM – Reality: Seo-joon was still brushing his teeth while Diljit sang Lamborghini at full volume in the hallway.
Taehyung was ready. Y/N was ready. Princess was ready.
Everyone else? Running around like pigeons in a storm.
The Van Ride
The moment they all piled into the rented mini-bus, it became less of a trip and more of a moving circus.
Diljit claimed the AUX cord. Bad idea.
First song? Balle Balle. Second song? A remix of Balle Balle. Third song? The SAME remix but louder.
Seo-joon: “Do you… own other songs?” Diljit: “Do you… own other vibes?”
Meanwhile, Hyung-sik was trying to narrate the scenic views like a National Geographic host, but Sung-hwan kept interrupting with, “Bro, look, that cow is staring at us.”
Wooshik tried to nap. Keyword: tried. Because Princess decided his lap was her personal playground. She gave him a plastic ring, slapped his cheek gently, and announced in toddler gibberish that he was now her “uncle horsey.”
Y/N? Absolutely thriving. Leaning back, sipping chai from a travel mug, watching the chaos like a queen from her throne.
Taehyung, however, had a permanent hand on Princess’ tiny sock-covered foot to keep her from climbing onto the dashboard.
The Pit Stop
Somewhere halfway, they stopped for roadside Maggi. BIG mistake.
Diljit ordered five plates. Seo-joon tried to take one bite and accidentally inhaled chili powder, coughing like an amateur. Sung-hwan spilled chai on his pants and stood dramatically in the snow yelling, “I AM FREEZING FROM WITHIN.” Hyung-sik bought a woolen cap so big it looked like a teapot cozy.
Taehyung fed Y/N noodles with chopsticks because “you’re not touching this with your cold hands.” Y/N pretended to roll her eyes but secretly smiled.
Arrival in Manali
By the time they reached, the snow was falling in slow, aesthetic flakes. The mountains looked like they were posing for a postcard.
The group? Looked like survivors of a Bollywood zombie apocalypse.
Diljit immediately started making snowballs. At first, it was cute. Then he nailed Wooshik square in the back.
Suddenly— WAR.
Snowballs flew everywhere. Hyung-sik got tackled by Seo-joon. Sung-hwan used his height as an advantage, pelting everyone from above like a snow god. Princess squealed in delight, clapping as Y/N and Taehyung teamed up—him making the ammo, her doing the throwing.
Diljit ended up face-first in the snow, yelling something about “revenge will be served hot, like chai.”
By evening, they were all thawing out in a warm cabin, sipping hot cocoa. Taehyung sat by the fireplace, Princess curled against his chest. Y/N was by his side, he was playing with her hair strands.
Diljit, still slightly damp, pointed at them dramatically.
“These two… they look like a tourism ad. ‘Come to Manali, fall in love.’”
Y/N gave a poker face. Taehyung smirked. Hyung-sik gagged loudly.
And Manali? Probably regretted letting this group in.
Scene: Accidental Time Travel — Courtesy of Two Strangers
The music and chatter from the venue blurred into a warm hum as Y/N drifted toward the quieter end of the garden, the fairy lights above swaying gently in the night breeze.
That’s when she saw them.
A couple, maybe mid-twenties, standing under a canopy of twinkling bulbs. The girl was tugging her partner’s scarf into place, smoothing it with her palms. The guy just stood there, smiling down at her with that soft, slow look like she was the only thing worth seeing. His hand slipped easily into hers, like it had always belonged there.
Y/N’s steps slowed.
She told herself she was only glancing. Just… passing by.
But her eyes stayed locked, and her chest tightened in that old, traitorous way.
And suddenly—she wasn’t here anymore. She was back in another October. One year ago.
The memory was so sharp it almost stung: Jungkook leaning against his car in the glow of streetlamps, holding out her favorite hot chocolate with that lazy grin. His scarf looped loosely around his neck, his hair a little messy from the wind.
Back then, she’d believed—completely, fiercely—that he loved her. That the way he’d pull her into his arms after teasing her all day meant something real. That every “I can’t lose you” was a promise, not a cage.
She missed that belief.
The late-night drives when he’d sing along to the radio, his fingers brushing hers at red lights. The way he’d spin her around in the living room for no reason. The warmth of his hoodie when she stole it and pretended she’d give it back.
God, she missed thinking she was safe there.
Because the truth—that he was never what she thought—still hurt to touch. That his “I love you”s came with conditions. That his sudden silences were punishments. That his apologies always ended with you know how you get…
But in this moment, under the sway of fairy lights, she let herself miss the lie. The beautiful, sweet, dangerous lie.
Her throat felt tight.
A year. She’d survived a whole year without him. And still, some part of her mourned the girl who used to believe every smile, every hug, every late-night coffee run.
The couple laughed at something only they understood. His forehead pressed to hers for a heartbeat, and she looked away—blinking fast, grounding herself back in the present.
From the crowd behind her, Taehyung’s voice floated over, warm and unbothered. “Found you.”
She turned to see him weaving through the guests, balancing a plate with two gulab jamuns like he’d crossed oceans to get them for her. His coat was slightly crooked, his hair catching the light in a way that made him look unfairly good.
When their eyes met, his grin widened, easy and sure.
And just like that, the ache dulled.
“Cute, huh?” he said, nodding toward the couple she’d been watching.
Y/N managed a small smile. “Yeah… really cute.”
Scene Title: “Snow, Squad, and the Punjabi Energy Bomb”
The pre-wedding venue in Manali looked like a Pinterest board had exploded—strings of marigolds swaying in the cold mountain breeze, fairy lights tangled with pine branches, and the snow-capped peaks glowing gold under the late afternoon sun. Somewhere, a speaker was blasting a remix of Gallan Goodiyan at an unholy volume, because the groom’s cousins clearly had no concept of “background music.”
Y/N was adjusting Princess’s beanie when the cold wind shifted—and so did the energy.
Because striding down the slushy cobblestone path came four men.
Not just any men. The Wooga Squad.
Seo-joon, tall and handsome like he’d just stepped out of a historical drama poster, wearing a perfectly draped shawl over his blazer. Hyung-sik, all warm smiles and sweater-layered charm, carrying a paper bag that suspiciously smelled like hot momos. Sung-hwan, towering and beanie-clad, with the expression of someone who was here for the food first, wedding second. And trailing beside them… Woo-shik and a human thunderstorm in a mustard jacket, sunglasses, and an aura that screamed Bhangra at breakfast—Diljit.
Taehyung spotted them first. His entire face lit up like the fairy lights overhead. “Yahhh! You guys made it!”
They all converged in a big, chaotic, back-slapping, bro-hug mess—except Diljit, who didn’t even bother with subtlety and bear-hugged Taehyung so hard, Y/N swore she heard a rib crack.
Diljit: “Veereee! Oye hoye! Tere fashion ne toh Manali di hawa nu vi garam kar ditta!” (Bro! Your fashion just made even Manali’s air hotter!)
Y/N choked on a laugh.
Seo-joon pulled back from the hug and immediately gave Princess a royal bow.
Princess blinked at him from under her fluffy beanie, then grabbed his scarf like she was claiming him as tribute. Everyone melted instantly.
Hyung-sik: “Aigoo… she’s stealing accessories already. Takes after her Y/N aunt.”
Y/N raised a brow. “Flattery will get you extra momo rations.”
Sung-hwan handed Y/N a steaming momo from his paper bag without a word, like this was a sacred offering. She accepted it with both hands because, honestly, Sung-hwan gets it.
Then Diljit bounded over, sunglasses still on even though the sun was basically gone. “Bhabhiiiiii!” he declared, like they’d been family for years and before Y/N could react, he was already laying on the floor and touching her feet.
Wooshik stepped in with a done face, hitting his back, "Yah! Get up, you are from the groom's side."
Diljit just grinned, “Bas pyaar hai, veere! Pyaar!” (It’s just love, brother! Love!) and then immediately pulled Wooshik into another side hug because apparently separation anxiety hits fast in Punjabi.
Within minutes, the group had taken over the venue corner—Seo-joon, Woo-shik and Hyung-sik sipping chai and admiring the mountains, Sung-hwan trying to see if Princess liked the beatboxing noises he was making (spoiler: she did), and Diljit already hyping up the groom’s cousins for an impromptu dance circle later.
Y/N watched them all together—this chaotic, mismatched, warm bunch of humans—and felt her chest warm in a way that wasn’t from the chai.
Manali’s air was crisp, pine-scented, and buzzing with wedding energy. Snowflakes had just started drifting down, dusting their hair and coats in white.
Taehyung caught Y/N’s gaze from across the group, his smile softening. He mouthed, Happy?
She nodded. Very.
Because for the first time in a long time, the people around her felt like more than just guests—they felt like home.
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
✧ Scene Title: “Mountains, Madness & Mehendi Previews” ✧
The jet's wheels kissed the Manali runway with a smooth hum. The crisp Himalayan air sneaked through the narrow gap of the aircraft door as it opened. The scent of pine, fresh mud, and distant campfire smoke filled Y/N's senses as she descended the ramp with Princess in her arms, snugly wrapped in a fluffy lavender baby coat. Taehyung trailed behind them like a bodyguard disguised as a Celine ad.
A cavalcade of luxury SUVs was already lined up on the tarmac—arranged by none other than Wooshik, whose family had gone full Bollywood Punjabi wedding mode.
“Welcome to the madness,” Wooshik grinned, hugging Taehyung and shaking hands with Y/N. “Yuri’s already threatening to cancel her own wedding if the mehendi artist isn’t flown in from Delhi.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing.
✧ The Resort ✧
Their SUV drove through the dense cedar woods into the heart of Manali’s most exquisite mountaintop resort—a sprawling estate tucked between ancient pines, with cottages that looked like wooden palaces and windows that framed the Himalayas like oil paintings.
As they pulled up at the resort's circular driveway, the valet opened the door and stared for a moment too long at the ethereal woman stepping out of the car.
Y/N, wearing a chic oversized coat over her cozy airport attire, had the wind catch her hair just right. Taehyung whispered from behind,
“You’re stealing the mountains’ spotlight again.”
Y/N elbowed him gently. “Stop saying things that make the clouds blush.”
✧ Inside the Suite ✧
Their room—well, their private chalet—was nothing short of magical. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened to a breathtaking view of snow-dusted peaks. There was a stone fireplace already roaring, a hot tub on the balcony, and flower petals arranged in the shape of a heart on the bed because apparently, Indian hospitality took “extra” very seriously.
Princess waddled around in awe, touching every soft pillow like a mini queen inspecting her kingdom.
Y/N sighed in disbelief.
“This is... it’s surreal. I’ve never seen mountains like this in my life.”
Taehyung placed his hands on her shoulders from behind, his breath warm near her ear.
“Let’s pretend it’s our honeymoon.” “…Without the wedding,” she muttered, deadpanned. “Details,” he grinned.
✧ The Chaos Begins ✧
Barely had they unpacked when they heard loud bhangra beats thudding from the open fields below.
They stepped onto the balcony.
There it was—the pre-wedding madness in full swing.
Giant tents with shimmering drapes. Aunties dancing with abandon. Uncles trying to outdo each other in drinking contests. And in the middle of it all—Yuri, dressed in an elegant Indo-western lehenga and yelling into her phone about lost bangles.
Y/N giggled. “You sure we’re not at a film shoot?”
“We are,” Taehyung whispered, “A film where you’re the star.”
✧ Entrance, Style, and Whistles ✧
Later that evening, they descended into the party grounds. Y/N in a deep olive-yellow embroidered suit, her hair tied in a soft braid adorned with baby’s breath flowers. Taehyung in a black bandhgala sherwani that screamed "rich villain with a redemption arc."
As they glided through the crowd, the sea of guests parted instinctively — like Moses had just dropped his staff and declared “Make way for the hotness.” Whistles broke out. Aunties almost dropped their samosas. Someone actually choked on a rasgulla.
A cluster of cousins, crouched near the snacks table, turned to full-on gossip hyenas.
“Wait—who is that man? He looks like he just walked out of a K-drama and into my dreams.”
“That's Wooshik's dance coach’s fiancé—HELLO?”
“No, no, no, I’ve definitely seen that jawline somewhere. Wasn’t he on the cover of Vogue or something??”
“OH MY GOD—yes! YES! That’s him! The Kim Conglomerates guy!! The one with the impossible bone structure and scary net worth???”
“Stop it. Are you telling me Wooshik casually invited a CEO to this function while I had to beg for an extra gulab jamun???”
“Ssshhh, shut up! Don’t be obvious! But—look at his cheekbones. I feel like they could slice through tax evasion.”
“No, I’m sorry, but he literally looks like the human embodiment of generational wealth and gym dedication.”
One of them dropped their drink.
Another dramatically clutched their chest. And the rest simply stared, as if the heavens had dropped a Dior-wrapped thunderbolt straight into their mohalla.
Scene: The Great Auntie Ambush –™️ With Ladoo and Trauma
Y/N? Calm. Serene. Regal.
But inside?
She was rolling on the metaphorical carpet of her mind palace, shrieking into a throw pillow, cackling like an unhinged villain with popcorn in both hands.
Because Taehyung—CEO of Kim Conglomerates, resident mafia heartthrob, airport fashion demon, and unofficial god of jawlines—was currently being…
TANTE-TRAPPED.
It began innocently.
A nudge. A fluttering giggle. Then BAM.
Four aunties encircled him like he was free mango pickle samples in a supermarket.
> “Arey beta, you’re SO tall! What’s your height? 6’3? 6’4? 6’9? Basket player?
> “Your skin is glowing, no? Like a baby's bottom but smoother. What cream? Or is it just stress from counting money?”
> “Are you single? My daughter looks just like Alia Bhatt from the left profile in good lighting. She even makes round rotis.”
Taehyung blinked.
Once. Twice. Internal WiFi disconnected.
He tried to say something polite—like “thank you” or “I’m taken” or "Hold on"—but every time he opened his mouth, another aunty shoved a ladoo, a business proposal, or worse, a biodata at him.
One auntie tugged at his collar like she was ironing him with motherly intentions.
> “Smile more, beta. You look like a statue carved from marble.”
Another shoved a plate of sweets in his hand.
> “Eat this, for sweetness. Like you. Also, my niece is very flexible. She teaches yoga.”
Meanwhile, Y/N stood a few feet away with a drink in hand, sipping like a queen watching her prized lion being attacked by parakeets in sarees.
Her inner monologue was pure filth and delight.
> “Yes. Yes. Suffer. You pretty little CEO goat.”
Taehyung met her eyes.
His look? Desperation mixed with spiritual surrender. Like a war general being overpowered by overfriendly marital suggestions and aggressive matchmaking energy.
> “Save me, woman.”
Y/N just… sipped her juice louder.
> “Nope.”
She even adjusted her imaginary crown. "Let him cook. Or get cooked."
Just as one aunty leaned in—hand hovering near his cheek, probably ready to pinch it and declare him her 5th son—Y/N finally glided over like a final boss.
She looped her arm through Taehyung’s with the casual dominance of a mafia queen and the smugness of someone who just won Uno with one card.
“Oh! I see you've met my fiancé,” she said sweetly— But her eyes?
Glowing with a level of possessiveness that made even the ghost of territorial lions go “damn, girl.”
The aunties? Giggled. Flushed. Scattered like pigeons after a firecracker. One even dropped her ladoo and mourned it silently.
Taehyung exhaled like he had just survived being kidnapped by saree-clad spies.
He leaned down and whispered, “You left me for dead.”
Y/N, not even sorry, grinned. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
She patted his chest. “Now come, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Matchmaking-Magnet. The kids are waiting to drag you into a dance battle before another aunty tries to check your Kundali.”
He groaned, “Next wedding, I’m wearing a fake mustache and glasses.”
Y/N smirked, “Next wedding?”
Taehyung blinked. “…Ours.”
And just like that—somewhere in the crowd—an aunty shrieked. Another fainted dramatically onto a chair. And a kid yelled, “MOM! THE HOT UNCLE’S GETTING MARRIED!”
Y/N and Taehyung walked away hand-in-hand, while aunties mourned the fall of India’s most eligible NRI fantasy.
RIP matchmaking dreams.
✧ A Toast to the Beginning ✧
As the night lit up with fairy lights and dhol beats, Y/N and Taehyung shared warm tea in brass cups under the open sky while Princess napped in a nearby stroller.
“This might actually be the most peaceful chaos I’ve experienced,” Y/N said, watching the laughter, the dancing, the love in the air.
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Clouds, Champagne, and Childlike Wonder”
Location: Paris Charles de Gaulle – Private Elite Terminal
Y/N’s fingers were still laced with Princess’s tiny hand when they stepped into the sleek, marble-floored lounge, which looked more like the lobby of a seven-star hotel than an airport.
There were no chaotic announcements, no scurrying passengers or squeaky trolleys—only soft instrumental music humming through the air and attendants dressed sharper than a runway model offering rose-scented towels.
Taehyung walked ahead casually, but he kept glancing back at Y/N.
And she?
She had paused mid-step, mouth slightly parted in awe, her gaze sweeping over the crystal chandeliers, the velvet high-back seats, the glass table with gold-flaked macarons.
“This is...?” she asked quietly.
“The waiting lounge,” Taehyung smiled, watching her with eyes that couldn’t help but soften.
“Waiting lounge?” she blinked. “This looks like Versailles and a dream had a baby.”
He laughed—an actual soft laugh, the kind he only did around her. He leaned in and whispered, “Just wait till you see the flight cabin.”
Scene Shift: Inside the Ultra-Elite Business Class Suite
Y/N stepped inside the private cabin and halted again.
Her breath caught.
It wasn’t just Business Class—it was art.
Warm wood-paneled walls, glowing amber lights, cream-colored reclining chairs that molded to her frame like a hug, and a private sliding door that made it feel like her own little world.
She turned in slow, stunned circles, staring at the leather console, the silk-covered pillow set, the built-in bookshelf with real novels, and a glowing touchpad that offered everything from Italian hot chocolate to an on-air yoga guide.
“Taehyung…” she whispered. “This is a house in the clouds.”
He sat down lazily, arm draped over the armrest, but his gaze never left her.
“You like it?” he asked, voice unusually gentle.
“Like it? I feel like if I touch too hard, I’ll break something.”
She plopped cautiously onto the recliner seat, hands nervously clutching the edge.
“I’ve never even been in Business Class… forget this. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to breathe here.”
Taehyung chuckled, but his heart... god, it swelled. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—this protective, warm, hopelessly in love feeling.
“Breathe all you want,” he murmured, kneeling briefly in front of her and lifting her hands. “You belong here more than anyone.”
She scoffed and looked away—but her cheeks were dusted in pink.
Mid-Air: Quiet Moments and Warmth
Princess had long fallen asleep in her cozy cot, bundled like a dumpling in the warm blanket.
Y/N, however, was wide awake, pressing every button on the menu screen like a fascinated child.
“This thing has a stargazing mode?” she gasped. “Taehyung, the ceiling changes colors! Look!”
“Yes, yes,” he smiled, watching her excitement like someone who had just witnessed the sunrise after years of darkness.
“And the chair reclines all the way like a bed! Why do people even need hotel rooms if these exist?!”
Taehyung placed a hand on his heart in mock agony. “Please stop being so adorable. I can’t handle it.”
✧ Scene Title: “Altitude & Amour Served on Gold” ✧
The private cabin of the luxury jet glowed under soft amber lights, the windows darkened by automatic tint to create a cozy ambience. Princess was tucked away in the crib-bed beside them, her tiny fists clutching a silk blanket as she snored softly, dreaming baby dreams.
Y/N had just finished marveling at the interior decor again—gilded etchings along the paneling, a chandelier-style lighting cluster above them, and velvet cream seats that reclined smoother than any hotel bed she’d ever known. Everything felt like it was carved out of royalty’s daydreams.
She was still looking around like a stunned tourist when the steward entered, wheeling in a crystal-top table and covered silver domes.
“Your gourmet menu is served, sir,” the steward bowed slightly.
Taehyung smirked at her awe. “Wait till you taste what flying like royalty actually tastes like.”
He pulled the table forward and flicked the covers off with flair, like unveiling treasure.
Y/N’s jaw almost dropped.
✧ The Menu ✧
• A shimmering bowl of white truffle risotto topped with gold flakes
• Butter-seared scallops in a saffron champagne glaze
• Miniature duck roulades wrapped in herb-crusted pastry
• A deconstructed beetroot terrine with edible flowers and crystalized lime dust
• And for dessert, an exquisite lavender crème brûlée served with a spun sugar tiara
And beside it all—poured into long-stem glasses—was non-alcoholic chilled elderflower sparkling nectar, with a single blue orchid floating delicately inside.
Y/N blinked rapidly, trying to process the edible artwork before her.
“I—I don’t think I’m allowed to eat this. It feels like I’ll get fined if I breathe near it.”
Taehyung chuckled, slicing a piece of roulade and placing it gently on her plate. “You deserve to eat like this every day.”
She shook her head. “This is not eating. This is—this is attending the MET Gala in my mouth.”
“Exactly,” Taehyung grinned. “Bon appétit, my Lady of Paris.”
✧ In Between the Bites ✧
Y/N took a spoonful of the truffle risotto and paused.
Her pupils dilated.
Her whole soul seemed to ascend into a higher realm.
“I think I just forgave three of my ex-friends for no reason,” she whispered.
Taehyung laughed so hard he choked on his elderflower drink.
“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered.
“And you’re adorable and hilarious when you taste any dish.”
She poked his chest with her fork. “Why do you keep doing this?”
“Because I’m hopelessly in love with you,” he replied casually, lifting her hand and kissing the back of it. “Also, because I like watching you gasp like a five-year-old discovering fairy dust.”
✧ Dessert & Daydreams ✧
As the steward cleared the main course, he returned with the lavender crème brûlée. Y/N hesitated, then broke the sugar top with the back of her spoon. The scent alone made her eyes flutter shut.
“Mmhh,” she moaned softly.
Taehyung paused mid-sip.
“If you make that sound again, I might lose all my sanity.”
Y/N snorted, covering her mouth.
✧ Post-Meal Peace ✧
The lights dimmed into a soft, starry projection along the ceiling as the cabin settled into silence, until Y/N said softly,
“You always knew I was simple. I didn’t need any of this. But today…” “…today I felt like the universe bowed a little for me.”
Taehyung’s voice was soft, warm, unshakable.
“Because you deserve it. And the universe should bow every day you smile.”
Y/N exhaled deeply.
For once, she didn’t argue.
Later: Her Head on His Shoulder
They didn’t speak for a while. The stars outside blinked like gentle secrets, and Y/N’s head slowly dropped on his shoulder, her breathing steady.
He didn’t move.
Not even a twitch.
His fingers rested near hers on the shared armrest, and all he could think of was how much this moment meant—her sleeping beside him, unaware that she’d just made a part of him feel at peace for the first time in years.
“You belong in all the luxury this world has,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “But I’d still love you even if we had to walk through fire barefoot.”
Scene Title: “Operation Manali Departure: Saree, Sulks, and the Sulkiest Dog”
Location: Y/N’s Apartment & Fluffy Paws Luxury Pet Care, Morning of Departure
The apartment was in complete chaos.
Saree boxes, baby bottles, boarding passes, and an odd sherwani lay across the living room like a war had broken out—one made entirely of velvet and gemstones.
Y/N, wrapped in a pastel floral robe and her hair half-straightened, was running back and forth like she was being chased by the ghost of missed flights.
> “Taehyung, have you packed the pacifiers for Princess?”
> “She chewed two last night. I only found a chewed rubber stump this morning. Looked like a crime scene.”
> “Did you pack her wipes?!”
> “I packed a *whole department store*. Calm down, Mother Goose.”
Meanwhile, Princess, dressed in a lemon-yellow onesie and wearing sunglasses too big for her chubby face, was flopped over a suitcase—wailing melodramatically because Taehyung tried to tie her shoelaces.
Hunter sat by the door pouting in silence, his chin resting on the ground and his ears drooped like two sad curtains.
His expression screamed betrayal.
Y/N knelt down beside him, cupping his big fluffy face.
> “Hunter, sweetheart… it’s just two weeks. Okay? Just fourteen days. I’ll video call you every night—cross my heart.”
Hunter didn’t move.
He let out a long, deep sigh like a Victorian man watching his lover board a ship to America.
> “He hates me now,” Y/N declared dramatically, flopping back onto the floor.
> “He’s sulking because he knows you’re gonna party without him,” Taehyung replied, already in his travel gear: beige turtleneck, trench coat, and sunglasses that screamed *airport fashion king.*
---
Time Skip: Outside Fluffy Paws Luxury Pet Care Centre
The glass doors slid open like some elite five-star hotel lobby, revealing a reception area that smelled faintly of lavender and expensive shampoo. Behind the marble desk stood a woman in scrubs, smiling like a trained hostess at a spa.
> “Welcome to Fluffy Paws,” she chirped. “Hunter Bernard, yes? We've prepared the deluxe VIP suite for him. With a view of the koi pond and optional dog yoga.”
Y/N looked guilty as she held Hunter’s leash. “Will he like it?”
Hunter, meanwhile, was already inspecting the room through the glass—where a golden retriever was being fed organic chicken bites on a velvet cushion.
He blinked once, impressed.
> “He’ll live better than us,” Taehyung muttered.
Y/N knelt down and gave Hunter one last bear hug, burying her face in his thick fur. “No rolling in dirt. No biting the yoga instructor. And if you meet a poodle named Bella, remember—you have standards.”
Hunter licked her cheek with a slow, noble *farewell my queen* kind of gesture.
> “You better not forget me,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Hunter huffed and walked dramatically into the pet suite like a man who had accepted his fate at a five-star exile.
---
Time Skip: Back at the Apartment Door
Taehyung carried Princess in one arm and rolled two giant designer suitcases with the other like he was heading off to a fashion runway.
Y/N adjusted her jhumka earrings, did a twirl to test the swish of her long skirt, and tried not to cry again thinking about Hunter’s soulful goodbye glance.
> “We dropped our dog off at a wellness resort,” she muttered. “Should we even be allowed back into normal society?”
> “Let’s be real, he’s in better hands than us,” Taehyung said, patting down his trench coat. “The dude gets morning paw massages now. I’m still trying to survive back pain from holding Princess.”
Princess let out a squeal of agreement and tried to smack his sunglasses.
Y/N gave a mock salute. “Saree, sandals, sass. Locked and loaded.”
As they got into the car, Y/N suddenly turned and shouted toward the empty apartment—
> “Hunter, I’ll call you! Don’t flirt with the receptionist!”
The car doors closed.
Taehyung grinned, pulling out his phone. “He’s probably already sipping cucumber water and ignoring us.”
Y/N sighed dramatically. “We raised a diva.”
But somewhere at Fluffy Paws, Hunter lounged on a plush dog bed, a cucumber slice balanced on his head, watching koi fish like a man reborn.
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Taehyung blinked.
Then blinked again.
And again.
His brain was buffering like an old computer trying to load a 4K video on a dial-up connection as he watched Y/N—his delicate, elegant, refined woman—sit cross-legged on the floor like a gremlin with an enormous delivery box open in front of her. The aroma alone was enough to knock a grown man out. He felt his sinuses flare up just from breathing near her.
It was that spicy.
“Love…” he said, cautiously, watching the way she unwrapped the heavily red, lava-coated chicken wings and pulled the first one close to her mouth like it was a duel to death.
Y/N didn’t even look at him. “Don’t talk.”
Taehyung shut up immediately.
She took the first bite.
A dramatic pause.
Her eyes didn’t even water. Not a flinch. She kept chewing, lips glistening in sauce, brows furrowed in that intense concentration scowl like she was solving world hunger, and the wing in her hand was the key.
She didn’t even blink as she reached for the next one, and then the next, eating like she had been possessed by the spirit of a spice demon and the only way to exorcise it was through combustion-level consumption.
Taehyung sat on the sofa, wide-eyed, hands frozen in his lap as if movement might disturb her flow.
The baby monitor buzzed softly beside him, but Princess was fast asleep. He wondered if she’d inherited Y/N’s spice tolerance. God help him if she had.
“Babe…” he tried again, barely above a whisper, “Are you... okay?”
Y/N didn’t answer. She downed another wing, licked her thumb with surgical precision, and then finally glanced at him with fire in her eyes and a nose slightly pink from the heat.
“I needed this,” she said darkly, voice raspy from the sheer force of the masala.
Taehyung raised his hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”
By the time she reached the final wing, her lips were practically vibrating, a drop of sweat forming at her temple, but she didn’t stop. She was a warrior. A commander. A gladiator in a colosseum of chilies.
And Taehyung was just her stunned audience of one.
She finally looked at him as she finished, grabbed a napkin with grace unbecoming of someone who had just battled spice level ten, and wiped her fingers carefully.
Then she sipped her cold water like a CEO sipping vintage wine.
Taehyung blinked again. “You terrify me. In the sexiest way possible.”
Y/N smirked. “Good. Next time I’m ordering the ghost pepper curry.”
Taehyung shivered.
“Do you want a bite?” she offered casually.
He laughed—an actual nervous laugh. “I value my intestines, thank you.”
Y/N just leaned back with a sigh, completely satisfied, resting a hand over her stomach like a food god had descended and blessed her soul.
Taehyung stared at her, chest swelling with affection, a little horror, and a whole lot of awe. “I'm in love with a dragon.”
“And you better keep her well-fed,” she mumbled with her eyes closed.
“Yes, Your Fire-Breathing Majesty.”
The next morning arrived unusually quiet, cloaked in an eerie silence that settled like a storm brewing behind the clouds. The neighborhood bustled with routine—a woman swept her porch, a fruit vendor rang his brass bell down the alley—but inside the apartment, the air was thick with something else. Tension. Shadows moved behind curtains. Even Hunter, lounging lazily by the door, kept growling low in his throat.
Y/N, still in her soft morning robe, sat on the couch feeding mashed fruit to Princess, who refused to keep still. Taehyung had just walked out of the bathroom, hair damp and white shirt half-buttoned, when the door suddenly banged.
A fist. Then another. Then a loud, guttural scream.
"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" The unmistakable voice of the landlady shrieked from behind the door, followed by the sound of polished leather shoes and radios crackling.
Y/N froze mid-spoon. Taehyung’s eyes narrowed, ice slicing through his calm. He didn’t need to look through the peephole—he already knew.
He opened the door slowly.
The landlady stood outside with two police officers flanking her like rabid hunting dogs she thought she controlled. Her hair was pinned too tight, her shawl flailing from one shoulder, and her lips twisted with a smirk of authority.
"I told you,” she spat, pointing a crooked finger at Y/N behind him. “This isn’t a place for loud, bossy women who twist their men around their fingers. This is my house. We follow my rules. No woman here tells a man what to do!”
Taehyung’s hand gripped the doorframe.
“And your so-called husband? Acting like a servant. Hah! If my Harry ever behaved like that, I'd slap him straight. But you—” she sneered at Y/N, “—you sit there acting all high and mighty while the man plays your wife. What a disgrace. You people don’t belong here. I’ve brought the police. Pack your bags and GET OUT."
Y/N instinctively stepped back, shielding Princess, who whimpered sensing the rise in anger. Even Hunter growled from his place behind the curtain, baring teeth that could snap a wrist in half.
The two officers stepped forward—but the moment they caught sight of Taehyung, everything in the air changed.
They halted. Blinked.
One of them, a tall man with a golden badge and a stern face, immediately stiffened. His eyes widened like he had seen a ghost. Then, as if a silent alarm had gone off, he straightened his back and bowed—bowed—to Taehyung.
The second officer followed suit, albeit with shaky hands.
“Monsieur Kim,” the first officer said quickly in French, clearing his throat. “Apologies. We… we weren’t told it was you.”
The landlady blinked rapidly. “What? What are you doing? I called you to throw them out! They’re freeloaders! Look at them! They attacked on me in my own house!"
“Madame,” the officer interrupted coldly now, voice losing all pretense of politeness. “Do you have any idea who this man is?”
“What? He’s just—some flashy businessman—”
“This is Kim Taehyung,” the second officer hissed low under his breath. “CEO of Vante Corp. CEO of Kim conglomerates. The man who owns half of the docks in Marseille. And more than half the city’s lawyers, hospitals, and banks. Not to mention…” he hesitated, glancing at the hallway to check no one was listening, “…the Commander Noir.”
Taehyung stood calmly, not moving an inch. Not blinking.
The first officer turned to him with visible respect. “Is everything alright, sir? Shall we… escort her away instead?”
The landlady paled. “E-escort me?! He—he’s just a spoiled man with wealth! You—you’re being paid off, aren’t you?”
But her voice was now a faltering mess, cracking under the weight of a reality she hadn’t expected. Her husband Harry stood at the stairs watching silently, lips parted in confusion. Even he had never seen the police react like that.
Taehyung tilted his head slightly, a lazy smile forming—cold, dangerous, and elegant like velvet on a dagger.
He stepped forward, voice ice.
“You walked into my house. Yelled at my Y/N. Scared our Princess.”
He took one more step, and she stumbled back.
“You think I’ll let that pass? You wanted us gone?”
He turned to the officers.
“She wants to evict us. I’d like a full background check on this woman. Tax fraud, land documents, and every illegal petty complaint she’s filed over the years. If I find even one violation—”
The landlady gasped. “You can’t—!”
“I can,” Taehyung cut her off. “And I will.”
“Sir,” the officer nodded, already pulling out his phone.
The landlady looked like she might faint. “I—I didn’t know—You are all corrupted—”
“You treat every woman like this?” Taehyung asked sharply. “Or just the ones who don’t lower their eyes and beg?”
Hunter growled again, as if echoing the tension in his master's voice.
The woman flinched, suddenly aware of every pair of eyes in the corridor—neighbors peeking through curtains, stunned into silence.
Taehyung turned back to Y/N, who stood still in the hallway, holding Princess close, lips trembling not with fear, but restraint.
“Let me handle this.” he said gently to her. “This filth isn’t worth your ears.”
Y/N nodded slowly, retreating into the apartment with Princess. The baby had sensed enough unease to bury her face into Y/N’s neck and cling tight.
Once the door closed behind them, Taehyung faced the landlady again.
“You may own the bricks of this building,” he said, voice low and cruel, “but if I wish, I’ll own you by the end of the week. Get out of my sight.”
The woman fled, almost tripping over her own slippers. Her husband ran after her, calling her name. The officers exchanged looks, then bowed once more before turning to leave, respectfully and without a word.
And Taehyung?
He remained in the hallway for one more minute, jaw tight, chest heaving once.
Then he stepped back inside, quietly locking the door behind him.
The silence that followed was laced with power—and no one in that building would ever forget the day they saw fear bow to love.
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
The lights in the bedroom were dimmed to a warm golden hue, the soft rustle of the curtains barely audible in the stillness of the late afternoon. Outside, the Parisian sky was grumbling with the promise of rain, but inside, it was quiet—except for the faint hum of a lullaby Taehyung had put on for Princess, who was napping in the next room with Hunter curled protectively beside her.
Y/N lay on the bed, curled slightly on her side, her face creased with exhaustion and the dull ache of cramps lingering under her skin. PMS had her in its brutal clutch—her body sore, her emotions frayed thin, and her soul just desperately needing rest. Her breathing was soft now, but Taehyung could tell she wasn’t truly asleep. There was still tension in her muscles. Her fingers twitched occasionally. Her brow furrowed every few seconds like her body was struggling even in sleep.
He sat beside her slowly, careful not to startle her. His hand brushed away a few strands of hair from her forehead, his knuckles grazing the side of her temple with a reverence that spoke volumes.
“Mon amour…” he murmured quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I know it hurts.”
Y/N stirred faintly, her eyes fluttering open halfway, glazed with fatigue.
“I don’t want to move…” she croaked.
“You don’t have to,” Taehyung whispered, his lips kissing the corner of her mouth. “Just stay still. I’ll take care of everything.”
Gently, he guided her to lie on her stomach. His hands—strong, warm, and precise—started with her temples, massaging in small, slow circles. She let out a low hum, the first sign of relief in hours. He worked his way down her head, running his fingers through her hair and pressing gently at pressure points near her scalp. His touch was healing—neither too light nor too firm, just the perfect pressure to release the migraine lodged behind her eyes.
Then, his hands moved to her shoulders, kneading the tight knots with devotion. His thumb pressed into the ridges of muscle just below her neck, drawing soft whimpers from her that made him frown in concern.
“Why didn’t you tell me it hurt this much, ma chérie?” he murmured.
“I didn’t want to be a burden,” she mumbled into the pillow, eyes still shut.
His hands froze for a second. “You’re not a burden. Ever. You’re mine to care for. Always.”
And with that, he resumed, taking his time as he rolled his knuckles across her shoulder blades, letting the tension melt away. After her upper back was loosened, he slipped down to her arms, lifting one at a time, pressing his thumbs into her palms and down each finger with absolute delicacy. Her fingers twitched under his touch, and she gave a sleepy sigh.
“I feel like crying more when you pamper me like this,” she said, her voice heavy with sleep and gratitude.
He chuckled softly. “I love you no matter what. But I’ll still take that as a win.”
He shifted to the edge of the bed, pulling the soft blanket slightly higher over her hips as he uncovered her legs. His touch was reverent as he massaged her calves first, then her ankles, working his way up with gentle care. Each slow press of his palm, each circular rub against the tension in her thighs, was infused with unspoken love. He made sure to move softly, aware of how tender her body felt during these days. Not once did he rush.
When he reached her feet, he looked up to find her fully asleep now, breathing deep and even. Her body looked a little more relaxed, the tension in her brow gone. Her lips were slightly parted, as if finally able to rest in peace.
Taehyung pressed a kiss to her ankle, pulled the blanket over her completely, and dimmed the lights a little more. He quietly left the room to check on Princess, but before closing the door behind him, he turned once more to look at the sleeping figure of his queen.
“You give everything to everyone,” he whispered. “Let me give everything to you.”
And with that, he left her to dream, his heart full and soft.
Scene: Y/N wakes up from her nap to find Taehyung has done everything—again
The soft rustling of curtains stirred her from slumber. Outside, the sun had long begun its descent, drenching the apartment in an amber glow. Y/N blinked slowly, disoriented. Her head felt lighter than before, the sharp edge of her headache dulled into a quiet hum. But as her eyes adjusted to the familiar space—the tidy coffee table, the clean kitchen sink, the faint scent of lemon soap in the air—her stomach dropped.
She shot up from the couch, eyes darting toward the clock. 4:47 PM. She had napped for nearly three hours.
“Taehyung?” she called, her voice raw from sleep.
“Hmm?” Taehyung’s voice floated in from the kitchen, casual, calm, unaware of the storm brewing inside her chest.
She staggered to her feet and walked toward him, her heart sinking further with every step. There he was, dressed in loose black joggers and a faded grey t-shirt, hair pulled back with a clip, standing barefoot at the stove. He was stirring ramen broth in one hand while holding Princess on his hip with the other. The baby had one hand in his hair and another clumsily holding a toy.
“Taehyung…” she whispered, her eyes already misty.
He turned at the sound of her voice, smiling, “Hey, love. Feeling better?”
She didn’t reply.
Instead, her lips quivered.
Taehyung frowned immediately, placing the spatula down and bouncing Princess lightly on his arm, “Y/N… what’s wrong? Are you in pain again?”
“I-I slept too much,” she choked, her voice cracking, “And you… you did everything, Taehyung. You’re cooking, holding Princess, cleaning—and your laptop’s still open, you were working too. You didn’t even rest.”
Taehyung blinked, confused at first. But then, his expression softened when he saw the guilt in her trembling mouth and the tears pooling in her lashes.
“Y/N…” he walked toward her, shifting Princess to one arm with practiced ease and using the other to cup her cheek. “You were hurting. You needed to rest.”
“But—” she sniffled, trying to step away, “It’s not fair on you! You have your own job, your own body to care for. You… you shouldn’t have to do all this alone just because I’m—because I’m a hormonal mess—”
“Hey. Stop,” he interrupted, his voice low but firm, brushing his thumb under her eye to catch the tears before they could fall. “You’re not a mess. You’re my love. And I’m not doing anything for you, I’m doing it with you… because we’re a team, remember?”
“But I feel useless,” she murmured, breath hitching.
“You’re not,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You’re the strongest woman I know. Some days your body will need rest. Some days you’ll be crying for no reason, or all the reasons. And some days, you’ll scold me for stacking the towels wrong,” he added with a tiny grin. “And I’ll still be here for it all.”
She finally let the tears roll down then, curling into his side, careful not to squish Princess. “You’re too good to me…”
“No,” Taehyung murmured against her temple. “I’m just giving you what you always deserved.”
Princess, still perched in his arm, leaned forward and patted Y/N’s head as if mimicking her uncle’s affection. That made Y/N laugh through her tears, even if just a little.
And in that moment—between the quiet kitchen hum, the spicy aroma of simmering dinner, the softness of love woven through fatigue and affection—Y/N realised she wasn’t failing. She was just loved… deeply, wholly, and without conditions.
♡ JungSu ♡
♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Slopes, Chaos, and a CEO in the Snow”
The next morning in Manali started peacefully.
Snow glittered on the rooftops. The sun peeked out. The air was crisp.
…And then Diljit’s voice echoed through the cabin like a war horn.
“WAKE UP, WE GO SKIINGGGGG!”
Seo-joon groaned from under three blankets.
Sung-hwan tried to bargain for “ten more minutes of life.”
Wooshik looked like someone had just told him his Wi-Fi was gone.
Meanwhile, Taehyung and Y/N were already up, dressed, and feeding Princess breakfast like the annoyingly perfect couple they were.
The Ski Gear Chaos
Hyung-sik put his skis on backward.
Seo-joon got his scarf tangled in his helmet.
Diljit showed up in neon yellow ski pants, claiming, “It’s for visibility.”
Sung-hwan? Looked like an alpine yeti.
Taehyung helped Y/N zip her jacket, adjusting her scarf with so much care that Wooshik muttered, “Bro, you’re making single people here suffer.”
Y/N facepalmed.
The Race Announcement
While practicing, Diljit yelled, “RACE!”
And that’s how it began.
The contenders:
• Y/N (secretly competitive queen)
• Taehyung (CEO who thinks he can do anything)
• Diljit (chaotic Punjabi energy)
• Seo-joon (claims he’s “fast” because he’s tall)
Hyung-sik and Sung-hwan stayed behind to babysit Princess and film the disaster.
The Countdown
Diljit: “Three…”
Seo-joon: “Wait, how do we brake again—”
Diljit: “Two…”
Taehyung (smirking at Y/N): “Try to keep up, love.”
Y/N (evil grin): “You’ll eat snow, Mr. Mafia.”
“One!”
The Race
They shot off like caffeinated penguins.
Diljit screamed the entire way down.
Seo-joon fell within ten seconds, rolling halfway like a human snowball.
Y/N?
Laser-focused. Concentration scowl on. Weaving through the slopes like she was born there.
Taehyung tried to catch up, but she overtook him at the last stretch, skidding to the finish line with a triumphant “HA!”
At the Bottom
Y/N threw her arms up like an Olympic champ.
Taehyung arrived a few seconds later, breathless and laughing.
Taehyung: “You’re… never… living this down, huh?”
Y/N: “Absolutely not.”
Diljit arrived last, falling right at the finish line but still shouting, “I’M ALIVE!”
Seo-joon appeared ten minutes later, still picking snow out of his mouth.
The Aftermath
Back at the cabin, Y/N wore her imaginary gold medal all day.
Princess clapped whenever she saw her, because Taehyung had told her, “Aunt won the big race.”
That night, by the fireplace, Taehyung leaned close and whispered,
“Next time, I’m winning.”
Y/N smirked,
“We will see.”
Diljit, from across the room,
“Next time, I’m bringing a snowmobile.”
Scene Title: “Steam, Snow, and an Overprotective CEO”
After the ski day chaos, Diljit insisted they had to visit the natural hot springs.
“It’s Manali! You don’t go in hot springs? That’s like… eating momos without chutney.”
The Wooga Squad agreed instantly.
Y/N? Excited.
Taehyung? Suspicious.
The Arrival
Steam curled into the frosty air. The springs were surrounded by snow-covered rocks, and the water shimmered under the soft glow of lanterns.
Everyone started getting ready to step in.
Y/N, in her swimsuit, wrapped a towel around herself and walked carefully toward the water.
Taehyung? Already shadowing her every move like a bodyguard-slash-lover-slash-paranoid-parent.
“Careful. It’s slippery.”
“I know.”
“Hold my hand.”
“Taehyung, I can—”
“Nope. Hold it.”
She sighed but slipped her hand into his anyway.
Entering the Water
As soon as she dipped her toes in, Y/N gasped.
“It’s so warm—”
Taehyung immediately tightened his grip.
“Easy… don’t rush in. You might slip.”
Seo-joon: “Bro, she’s literally standing still.”
Taehyung shot him a glare that could freeze the spring over.
Once Inside
Y/N leaned back against the smooth rock, sighing in bliss.
The warmth seeped into her muscles, making her eyelids heavy.
Meanwhile, Taehyung was half enjoying the water… half scanning the area like he was in a mafia meeting.
“Taehyung…”
“Hmm?”
“Stop looking like you’re about to execute someone.”
“I’m making sure no one splashes you.”
She giggled,
“You think Diljit is going to start a water fight?”
Cue splash from Diljit in the distance.
Taehyung: death glare engaged.
The Overprotective Moment
When Y/N shifted to adjust her position, Taehyung was instantly there.
“Careful—here, lean on me.”
She rolled her eyes but ended up leaning against his chest anyway. His arms slid around her waist, holding her securely in the warm water.
“Better?” he murmured.
“…Yeah.”
Princess, sitting in a smaller shallow spring with Hyung-sik, waved at them and splashed her little hands.
Y/N waved back, smiling, while Taehyung whispered,
“You look even more beautiful with steam in your hair.”
Seo-joon from across the pool: “Bro. Romance elsewhere. Some of us are single.”
The Ending
By the time they left, Y/N was relaxed to the point of sleepiness, bundled up in Taehyung’s jacket while he carried her shoes.
As they walked back to the cabin, he muttered,
“Next time, I’m renting the entire spring so we’re alone.”
Y/N laughed softly,
“Next time, I’ll push you in first.”
Scene Title: “Snowflakes, Piggybacks, and Public Embarrassment”
Manali at night looked like something straight out of a fairy tale — snow glittering under the street lamps, pine trees draped in white, and the air so crisp it felt like biting into a mint.
Y/N was bundled up in an oversized scarf, her nose pink from the cold.
“Taehyung… my toes are frozen.”
He glanced down at her boots.
“You’re walking like a penguin.”
She groaned,
“Because I am a penguin right now. Carry me.”
Without another word, Taehyung crouched down in the snow.
“Hop on.”
“Taehyung, I was kidding—”
“Hop. On.”
Y/N climbed onto his back, sighing heavily, as he hoisted her up effortlessly.
The Walk
The Wooga Squad trailed behind, watching the scene unfold.
Seo-joon cupped his hands around his mouth:
“TAEHYUNG, IS THIS YOUR WEDDING PHOTOSHOOT AUDITION?”
Hyung-sik snorted,
“Man’s giving free cab service in the snow.”
Sung-hwan added dramatically,
“Look at him. CEO of Kim Conglomerate reduced to UberHusband.”
Diljit’s Contribution
Diljit, never missing a chance for chaos, jogged up beside Taehyung:
“Bhai, give her to me, I’ll carry her faster!”
Taehyung did not slow down.
“Touch her and I’ll drop you in a snowbank.”
Y/N, hiding her smile in her scarf, whispered,
“Possessive much?”
“Always.”
The Snowfall Moment
Halfway to the cabin, snow began to fall gently, tiny flakes catching in Y/N’s hair.
Taehyung tilted his head so he could glance at her.
“You’ve got snow in your lashes.”
“You’ve got steam coming out of your mouth like a dragon.”
He chuckled, adjusting his grip to keep her warm.
“We’ll remember this forever.”
From behind, Woo-shik yelled,
“WE’LL remember it too, thanks to the PDA!”
The Arrival
By the time they reached the cabin, Y/N’s cheeks were warm from laughter, not just the scarf.
Taehyung set her down gently at the door.
“Next time, I’m carrying you the whole trip.”
She smirked,
“In your dreams.”
Scene Title: “Fireplace, Board Games, and Taehyung’s Lap Agenda”
The cabin was a warm haven against the snowy night outside — crackling fire, fairy lights strung along wooden beams, and the smell of hot cocoa filling the air.
Seo-joon, Hyung-sik, Sung-hwan, Diljit, Wooshik, Yuri, and her fiancé were sprawled across the plush rugs and couches.
Y/N was curled up on a single armchair, mug in hand, looking like a Pinterest ad for “cozy winter vibes.”
The Board Game Setup
Hyung-sik shuffled a deck of cards.
“We’re playing UNO. Winner gets bragging rights. Loser does a snow angel outside… in just their socks.”
Diljit grinned,
“Bhai, I’m Punjabi. Snow angel? Challenge accepted.”
The Game Chaos
Round one and Taehyung was already cheating — not even subtly.
Y/N caught him hiding a Draw 4 under his thigh.
“You’re such a sore loser.”
“Strategist,” he corrected.
Diljit slapped down a Reverse card.
“Strategy this, bhai.”
When Yuri won a round, her fiancé scooped her up in a dramatic spin.
Hyung-sik groaned,
“Great. Lovebirds everywhere.”
Seo-joon pointed at Taehyung and Y/N squished in the chair.
“Says the man glaring at our lovebirds.”
The Snow Angel Dare
Sung-hwan lost the final round. The squad forced him outside, chanting,
“ANGEL! ANGEL! ANGEL!”
While Sung-hwan flopped into the snow dramatically, Taehyung leaned in close to Y/N’s ear, murmuring just for her:
“If I lost, I’d make you come out with me.”
She smirked,
“If you lost, I’d push you in myself.”
The Firelight Moment
Later, when everyone was sprawled around the fire half-asleep, Taehyung coaxed Y/N to sit on the floor between his legs, wrapping a blanket around both of them.
His chin rested on her shoulder, voice low.
“Best trip so far.”
“Even with all the roasting?”
“Especially with the roasting. Means we’re family now.”
From the couch, Hyung-sik mumbled sleepily:
“We been family, idiot.”
Diljit threw a pillow at them,
“Shut up and get married already.”
To be continued....
2 months ago | [YT] | 20
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♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Dance Floor? No. Dance Battlefield.”
The snow had barely settled on the pine branches when the music inside the pre-wedding hall took a dramatic turn.
Gone were the soft, romantic Bollywood ballads from earlier.
Instead—
Dhol.
Bass.
The kind of Punjabi wedding beat that physically picks you up and throws you onto the dance floor whether you like it or not.
From the corner, Diljit’s sunglasses caught the fairy light glow. He spotted the Wooga Squad like a hawk spotting prey.
Diljit: “OYE! Enough standing like background extras! Aaja, dance floor te!” (Come to the dance floor!)
Before anyone could breathe, he had already grabbed Taehyung, Y/N, Seo-joon, Hyung-sik, and Sung-hwan, dragging them forward like a human bulldozer.
The DJ blasted Ainvayi Ainvayi, and that was it.
No one was safe.
Taehyung gave Y/N a look—half “we’re doing this?” and half “God help me”.
Y/N smirked and shrugged, already rolling her shoulders to the beat.
Wooshik came skidding over from the snack table. “What’s—”
“NO QUESTIONS, ONLY DANCE!” Diljit barked, yanking him into the circle.
In seconds, the floor was alive:
• Diljit in the center, stomping the ground like he was summoning ancestors.
• Taehyung moving with dangerously smooth precision—half mafia swag, half shaadi ka thumka.
• Seo-joon and Hyung-sik—absolutely losing it, trying to match each other’s hip moves.
• Sung-hwan—somehow doing bhangra AND dad-dancing at the same time.
And then—
Y/N joined in.
Oh, she didn’t just join in—she owned it.
Hair bouncing, bangles jingling, eyes sparkling—she hit every beat like she was born in a Bollywood dance number. Even Taehyung stopped mid-step just to watch her, that proud little smile twitching at his lips.
The crowd noticed. Whistles erupted.
A few aunties clapped.
One uncle muttered, “Bas, bas, dulha bhag jayega…” (Stop, stop, the groom will run away…)
That’s when the bride-to-be, Yuri, stormed in like royalty, dragging her fiancé Amarjit (Diljit’s older brother) with her.
They dove straight into a giddha–bhangra fusion, pulling Y/N and Taehyung into the center.
Now it was full chaos:
• Yuri twirling like her lehenga was made of fire.
• Amarjit and Diljit doing shoulder drops so aggressive, the DJ had to turn up the bass.
• Y/N laughing so hard she nearly missed a beat—only for Taehyung to catch her wrist and spin her back in, his hand warm and sure at her waist.
• Seo-joon attempting a Bollywood hip swirl while laughing and looking like he’d pulled a muscle.
• Hyung-sik and Sung-hwan creating a two-man bhangra wall that blocked Wooshik’s escape route.
Princess?
Safely perched on a grandma’s lap at the edge of the hall, clapping wildly and kicking her little legs like the tiniest hype-woman alive.
The DJ transitioned into Morni Banke, and the crowd turned feral.
Phones were out. Cheering was deafening.
Taehyung leaned in to Y/N mid-spin, slightly breathless.
“You didn’t tell me Punjabis have this much stamina.”
Y/N grinned, cheeks flushed, eyes glinting under the fairy lights.
“This is only the warm-up.”
And just as Taehyung looked both impressed and mildly terrified—
Diljit slapped him on the back.
“Next song, veere…we’re lifting people.”
Taehyung blinked.
“…What?”
The music blasted. The crowd roared.
And before he knew it—Taehyung was hoisted on the shoulders of Amarjit and Diljit, the CEO of Kim Conglomerates reduced to a giggling mess as Y/N cheered from below, recording him, hands cupped around her mouth like his personal cheerleader.
Manali’s snowy peaks had probably never heard this much laughter and dhol in their lives.
Scene Title: “Manali Express: Population — Chaos”
The next morning, after a night of dhol beats, food comas, and Taehyung questioning his life choices while being tossed in the air by Punjabis, the crew was supposed to leave early for their Manali trip.
Supposed to.
8:00 AM – Official plan: “We leave sharp.”
10:47 AM – Reality: Seo-joon was still brushing his teeth while Diljit sang Lamborghini at full volume in the hallway.
Taehyung was ready.
Y/N was ready.
Princess was ready.
Everyone else?
Running around like pigeons in a storm.
The Van Ride
The moment they all piled into the rented mini-bus, it became less of a trip and more of a moving circus.
Diljit claimed the AUX cord. Bad idea.
First song? Balle Balle.
Second song? A remix of Balle Balle.
Third song? The SAME remix but louder.
Seo-joon: “Do you… own other songs?”
Diljit: “Do you… own other vibes?”
Meanwhile, Hyung-sik was trying to narrate the scenic views like a National Geographic host, but Sung-hwan kept interrupting with, “Bro, look, that cow is staring at us.”
Wooshik tried to nap. Keyword: tried. Because Princess decided his lap was her personal playground. She gave him a plastic ring, slapped his cheek gently, and announced in toddler gibberish that he was now her “uncle horsey.”
Y/N?
Absolutely thriving.
Leaning back, sipping chai from a travel mug, watching the chaos like a queen from her throne.
Taehyung, however, had a permanent hand on Princess’ tiny sock-covered foot to keep her from climbing onto the dashboard.
The Pit Stop
Somewhere halfway, they stopped for roadside Maggi.
BIG mistake.
Diljit ordered five plates.
Seo-joon tried to take one bite and accidentally inhaled chili powder, coughing like an amateur.
Sung-hwan spilled chai on his pants and stood dramatically in the snow yelling, “I AM FREEZING FROM WITHIN.”
Hyung-sik bought a woolen cap so big it looked like a teapot cozy.
Taehyung fed Y/N noodles with chopsticks because “you’re not touching this with your cold hands.”
Y/N pretended to roll her eyes but secretly smiled.
Arrival in Manali
By the time they reached, the snow was falling in slow, aesthetic flakes. The mountains looked like they were posing for a postcard.
The group?
Looked like survivors of a Bollywood zombie apocalypse.
Diljit immediately started making snowballs.
At first, it was cute.
Then he nailed Wooshik square in the back.
Suddenly—
WAR.
Snowballs flew everywhere.
Hyung-sik got tackled by Seo-joon.
Sung-hwan used his height as an advantage, pelting everyone from above like a snow god.
Princess squealed in delight, clapping as Y/N and Taehyung teamed up—him making the ammo, her doing the throwing.
Diljit ended up face-first in the snow, yelling something about “revenge will be served hot, like chai.”
By evening, they were all thawing out in a warm cabin, sipping hot cocoa.
Taehyung sat by the fireplace, Princess curled against his chest.
Y/N was by his side, he was playing with her hair strands.
Diljit, still slightly damp, pointed at them dramatically.
“These two… they look like a tourism ad. ‘Come to Manali, fall in love.’”
Y/N gave a poker face.
Taehyung smirked.
Hyung-sik gagged loudly.
And Manali?
Probably regretted letting this group in.
To be continued....
2 months ago | [YT] | 13
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♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov :-
Scene: Accidental Time Travel — Courtesy of Two Strangers
The music and chatter from the venue blurred into a warm hum as Y/N drifted toward the quieter end of the garden, the fairy lights above swaying gently in the night breeze.
That’s when she saw them.
A couple, maybe mid-twenties, standing under a canopy of twinkling bulbs. The girl was tugging her partner’s scarf into place, smoothing it with her palms. The guy just stood there, smiling down at her with that soft, slow look like she was the only thing worth seeing. His hand slipped easily into hers, like it had always belonged there.
Y/N’s steps slowed.
She told herself she was only glancing. Just… passing by.
But her eyes stayed locked, and her chest tightened in that old, traitorous way.
And suddenly—she wasn’t here anymore.
She was back in another October. One year ago.
The memory was so sharp it almost stung: Jungkook leaning against his car in the glow of streetlamps, holding out her favorite hot chocolate with that lazy grin. His scarf looped loosely around his neck, his hair a little messy from the wind.
Back then, she’d believed—completely, fiercely—that he loved her.
That the way he’d pull her into his arms after teasing her all day meant something real.
That every “I can’t lose you” was a promise, not a cage.
She missed that belief.
The late-night drives when he’d sing along to the radio, his fingers brushing hers at red lights. The way he’d spin her around in the living room for no reason. The warmth of his hoodie when she stole it and pretended she’d give it back.
God, she missed thinking she was safe there.
Because the truth—that he was never what she thought—still hurt to touch.
That his “I love you”s came with conditions. That his sudden silences were punishments. That his apologies always ended with you know how you get…
But in this moment, under the sway of fairy lights, she let herself miss the lie. The beautiful, sweet, dangerous lie.
Her throat felt tight.
A year. She’d survived a whole year without him. And still, some part of her mourned the girl who used to believe every smile, every hug, every late-night coffee run.
The couple laughed at something only they understood. His forehead pressed to hers for a heartbeat, and she looked away—blinking fast, grounding herself back in the present.
From the crowd behind her, Taehyung’s voice floated over, warm and unbothered. “Found you.”
She turned to see him weaving through the guests, balancing a plate with two gulab jamuns like he’d crossed oceans to get them for her. His coat was slightly crooked, his hair catching the light in a way that made him look unfairly good.
When their eyes met, his grin widened, easy and sure.
And just like that, the ache dulled.
“Cute, huh?” he said, nodding toward the couple she’d been watching.
Y/N managed a small smile. “Yeah… really cute.”
Scene Title: “Snow, Squad, and the Punjabi Energy Bomb”
The pre-wedding venue in Manali looked like a Pinterest board had exploded—strings of marigolds swaying in the cold mountain breeze, fairy lights tangled with pine branches, and the snow-capped peaks glowing gold under the late afternoon sun. Somewhere, a speaker was blasting a remix of Gallan Goodiyan at an unholy volume, because the groom’s cousins clearly had no concept of “background music.”
Y/N was adjusting Princess’s beanie when the cold wind shifted—and so did the energy.
Because striding down the slushy cobblestone path came four men.
Not just any men. The Wooga Squad.
Seo-joon, tall and handsome like he’d just stepped out of a historical drama poster, wearing a perfectly draped shawl over his blazer.
Hyung-sik, all warm smiles and sweater-layered charm, carrying a paper bag that suspiciously smelled like hot momos.
Sung-hwan, towering and beanie-clad, with the expression of someone who was here for the food first, wedding second.
And trailing beside them… Woo-shik and a human thunderstorm in a mustard jacket, sunglasses, and an aura that screamed Bhangra at breakfast—Diljit.
Taehyung spotted them first. His entire face lit up like the fairy lights overhead.
“Yahhh! You guys made it!”
They all converged in a big, chaotic, back-slapping, bro-hug mess—except Diljit, who didn’t even bother with subtlety and bear-hugged Taehyung so hard, Y/N swore she heard a rib crack.
Diljit: “Veereee! Oye hoye! Tere fashion ne toh Manali di hawa nu vi garam kar ditta!”
(Bro! Your fashion just made even Manali’s air hotter!)
Y/N choked on a laugh.
Seo-joon pulled back from the hug and immediately gave Princess a royal bow.
Princess blinked at him from under her fluffy beanie, then grabbed his scarf like she was claiming him as tribute. Everyone melted instantly.
Hyung-sik: “Aigoo… she’s stealing accessories already. Takes after her Y/N aunt.”
Y/N raised a brow. “Flattery will get you extra momo rations.”
Sung-hwan handed Y/N a steaming momo from his paper bag without a word, like this was a sacred offering. She accepted it with both hands because, honestly, Sung-hwan gets it.
Then Diljit bounded over, sunglasses still on even though the sun was basically gone.
“Bhabhiiiiii!” he declared, like they’d been family for years and before Y/N could react, he was already laying on the floor and touching her feet.
Wooshik stepped in with a done face, hitting his back, "Yah! Get up, you are from the groom's side."
Diljit just grinned, “Bas pyaar hai, veere! Pyaar!” (It’s just love, brother! Love!) and then immediately pulled Wooshik into another side hug because apparently separation anxiety hits fast in Punjabi.
Within minutes, the group had taken over the venue corner—Seo-joon, Woo-shik and Hyung-sik sipping chai and admiring the mountains, Sung-hwan trying to see if Princess liked the beatboxing noises he was making (spoiler: she did), and Diljit already hyping up the groom’s cousins for an impromptu dance circle later.
Y/N watched them all together—this chaotic, mismatched, warm bunch of humans—and felt her chest warm in a way that wasn’t from the chai.
Manali’s air was crisp, pine-scented, and buzzing with wedding energy. Snowflakes had just started drifting down, dusting their hair and coats in white.
Taehyung caught Y/N’s gaze from across the group, his smile softening. He mouthed, Happy?
She nodded. Very.
Because for the first time in a long time, the people around her felt like more than just guests—they felt like home.
To be continued....
2 months ago | [YT] | 10
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♡ JungSu ♡
A complete journey of yesterday's lunar eclipse — phase by phase. Photographed by me. ❣️🌑
3 months ago | [YT] | 148
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♡ JungSu ♡
गणपति बप्पा मोरया 🕉️🐚ᬒᬁ𓃰🔱🪘
3 months ago | [YT] | 142
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♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
✧ Scene Title: “Mountains, Madness & Mehendi Previews” ✧
The jet's wheels kissed the Manali runway with a smooth hum. The crisp Himalayan air sneaked through the narrow gap of the aircraft door as it opened. The scent of pine, fresh mud, and distant campfire smoke filled Y/N's senses as she descended the ramp with Princess in her arms, snugly wrapped in a fluffy lavender baby coat. Taehyung trailed behind them like a bodyguard disguised as a Celine ad.
A cavalcade of luxury SUVs was already lined up on the tarmac—arranged by none other than Wooshik, whose family had gone full Bollywood Punjabi wedding mode.
“Welcome to the madness,” Wooshik grinned, hugging Taehyung and shaking hands with Y/N. “Yuri’s already threatening to cancel her own wedding if the mehendi artist isn’t flown in from Delhi.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing.
✧ The Resort ✧
Their SUV drove through the dense cedar woods into the heart of Manali’s most exquisite mountaintop resort—a sprawling estate tucked between ancient pines, with cottages that looked like wooden palaces and windows that framed the Himalayas like oil paintings.
As they pulled up at the resort's circular driveway, the valet opened the door and stared for a moment too long at the ethereal woman stepping out of the car.
Y/N, wearing a chic oversized coat over her cozy airport attire, had the wind catch her hair just right. Taehyung whispered from behind,
“You’re stealing the mountains’ spotlight again.”
Y/N elbowed him gently. “Stop saying things that make the clouds blush.”
✧ Inside the Suite ✧
Their room—well, their private chalet—was nothing short of magical. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened to a breathtaking view of snow-dusted peaks. There was a stone fireplace already roaring, a hot tub on the balcony, and flower petals arranged in the shape of a heart on the bed because apparently, Indian hospitality took “extra” very seriously.
Princess waddled around in awe, touching every soft pillow like a mini queen inspecting her kingdom.
Y/N sighed in disbelief.
“This is... it’s surreal. I’ve never seen mountains like this in my life.”
Taehyung placed his hands on her shoulders from behind, his breath warm near her ear.
“Let’s pretend it’s our honeymoon.”
“…Without the wedding,” she muttered, deadpanned.
“Details,” he grinned.
✧ The Chaos Begins ✧
Barely had they unpacked when they heard loud bhangra beats thudding from the open fields below.
They stepped onto the balcony.
There it was—the pre-wedding madness in full swing.
Giant tents with shimmering drapes. Aunties dancing with abandon. Uncles trying to outdo each other in drinking contests. And in the middle of it all—Yuri, dressed in an elegant Indo-western lehenga and yelling into her phone about lost bangles.
Y/N giggled. “You sure we’re not at a film shoot?”
“We are,” Taehyung whispered, “A film where you’re the star.”
✧ Entrance, Style, and Whistles ✧
Later that evening, they descended into the party grounds. Y/N in a deep olive-yellow embroidered suit, her hair tied in a soft braid adorned with baby’s breath flowers. Taehyung in a black bandhgala sherwani that screamed "rich villain with a redemption arc."
As they glided through the crowd, the sea of guests parted instinctively — like Moses had just dropped his staff and declared “Make way for the hotness.”
Whistles broke out. Aunties almost dropped their samosas. Someone actually choked on a rasgulla.
A cluster of cousins, crouched near the snacks table, turned to full-on gossip hyenas.
“Wait—who is that man? He looks like he just walked out of a K-drama and into my dreams.”
“That's Wooshik's dance coach’s fiancé—HELLO?”
“No, no, no, I’ve definitely seen that jawline somewhere. Wasn’t he on the cover of Vogue or something??”
“OH MY GOD—yes! YES! That’s him! The Kim Conglomerates guy!! The one with the impossible bone structure and scary net worth???”
“Stop it. Are you telling me Wooshik casually invited a CEO to this function while I had to beg for an extra gulab jamun???”
“Ssshhh, shut up! Don’t be obvious! But—look at his cheekbones. I feel like they could slice through tax evasion.”
“No, I’m sorry, but he literally looks like the human embodiment of generational wealth and gym dedication.”
One of them dropped their drink.
Another dramatically clutched their chest.
And the rest simply stared, as if the heavens had dropped a Dior-wrapped thunderbolt straight into their mohalla.
Scene: The Great Auntie Ambush –™️ With Ladoo and Trauma
Y/N? Calm. Serene. Regal.
But inside?
She was rolling on the metaphorical carpet of her mind palace, shrieking into a throw pillow, cackling like an unhinged villain with popcorn in both hands.
Because Taehyung—CEO of Kim Conglomerates, resident mafia heartthrob, airport fashion demon, and unofficial god of jawlines—was currently being…
TANTE-TRAPPED.
It began innocently.
A nudge.
A fluttering giggle.
Then BAM.
Four aunties encircled him like he was free mango pickle samples in a supermarket.
> “Arey beta, you’re SO tall! What’s your height? 6’3? 6’4? 6’9? Basket player?
> “Your skin is glowing, no? Like a baby's bottom but smoother. What cream? Or is it just stress from counting money?”
> “Are you single? My daughter looks just like Alia Bhatt from the left profile in good lighting. She even makes round rotis.”
Taehyung blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Internal WiFi disconnected.
He tried to say something polite—like “thank you” or “I’m taken” or "Hold on"—but every time he opened his mouth, another aunty shoved a ladoo, a business proposal, or worse, a biodata at him.
One auntie tugged at his collar like she was ironing him with motherly intentions.
> “Smile more, beta. You look like a statue carved from marble.”
Another shoved a plate of sweets in his hand.
> “Eat this, for sweetness. Like you. Also, my niece is very flexible. She teaches yoga.”
Meanwhile, Y/N stood a few feet away with a drink in hand, sipping like a queen watching her prized lion being attacked by parakeets in sarees.
Her inner monologue was pure filth and delight.
> “Yes. Yes. Suffer. You pretty little CEO goat.”
Taehyung met her eyes.
His look? Desperation mixed with spiritual surrender. Like a war general being overpowered by overfriendly marital suggestions and aggressive matchmaking energy.
> “Save me, woman.”
Y/N just… sipped her juice louder.
> “Nope.”
She even adjusted her imaginary crown.
"Let him cook. Or get cooked."
Just as one aunty leaned in—hand hovering near his cheek, probably ready to pinch it and declare him her 5th son—Y/N finally glided over like a final boss.
She looped her arm through Taehyung’s with the casual dominance of a mafia queen and the smugness of someone who just won Uno with one card.
“Oh! I see you've met my fiancé,” she said sweetly—
But her eyes?
Glowing with a level of possessiveness that made even the ghost of territorial lions go “damn, girl.”
The aunties?
Giggled.
Flushed.
Scattered like pigeons after a firecracker.
One even dropped her ladoo and mourned it silently.
Taehyung exhaled like he had just survived being kidnapped by saree-clad spies.
He leaned down and whispered, “You left me for dead.”
Y/N, not even sorry, grinned.
“You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
She patted his chest.
“Now come, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Matchmaking-Magnet. The kids are waiting to drag you into a dance battle before another aunty tries to check your Kundali.”
He groaned, “Next wedding, I’m wearing a fake mustache and glasses.”
Y/N smirked, “Next wedding?”
Taehyung blinked.
“…Ours.”
And just like that—somewhere in the crowd—an aunty shrieked.
Another fainted dramatically onto a chair.
And a kid yelled, “MOM! THE HOT UNCLE’S GETTING MARRIED!”
Y/N and Taehyung walked away hand-in-hand, while aunties mourned the fall of India’s most eligible NRI fantasy.
RIP matchmaking dreams.
✧ A Toast to the Beginning ✧
As the night lit up with fairy lights and dhol beats, Y/N and Taehyung shared warm tea in brass cups under the open sky while Princess napped in a nearby stroller.
“This might actually be the most peaceful chaos I’ve experienced,” Y/N said, watching the laughter, the dancing, the love in the air.
Taehyung looked at her, his eyes soft.
“It’s not the chaos that’s peaceful… it’s you.”
To be continued....
4 months ago | [YT] | 22
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♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Clouds, Champagne, and Childlike Wonder”
Location: Paris Charles de Gaulle – Private Elite Terminal
Y/N’s fingers were still laced with Princess’s tiny hand when they stepped into the sleek, marble-floored lounge, which looked more like the lobby of a seven-star hotel than an airport.
There were no chaotic announcements, no scurrying passengers or squeaky trolleys—only soft instrumental music humming through the air and attendants dressed sharper than a runway model offering rose-scented towels.
Taehyung walked ahead casually, but he kept glancing back at Y/N.
And she?
She had paused mid-step, mouth slightly parted in awe, her gaze sweeping over the crystal chandeliers, the velvet high-back seats, the glass table with gold-flaked macarons.
“This is...?” she asked quietly.
“The waiting lounge,” Taehyung smiled, watching her with eyes that couldn’t help but soften.
“Waiting lounge?” she blinked. “This looks like Versailles and a dream had a baby.”
He laughed—an actual soft laugh, the kind he only did around her. He leaned in and whispered, “Just wait till you see the flight cabin.”
Scene Shift: Inside the Ultra-Elite Business Class Suite
Y/N stepped inside the private cabin and halted again.
Her breath caught.
It wasn’t just Business Class—it was art.
Warm wood-paneled walls, glowing amber lights, cream-colored reclining chairs that molded to her frame like a hug, and a private sliding door that made it feel like her own little world.
She turned in slow, stunned circles, staring at the leather console, the silk-covered pillow set, the built-in bookshelf with real novels, and a glowing touchpad that offered everything from Italian hot chocolate to an on-air yoga guide.
“Taehyung…” she whispered. “This is a house in the clouds.”
He sat down lazily, arm draped over the armrest, but his gaze never left her.
“You like it?” he asked, voice unusually gentle.
“Like it? I feel like if I touch too hard, I’ll break something.”
She plopped cautiously onto the recliner seat, hands nervously clutching the edge.
“I’ve never even been in Business Class… forget this. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to breathe here.”
Taehyung chuckled, but his heart... god, it swelled. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—this protective, warm, hopelessly in love feeling.
“Breathe all you want,” he murmured, kneeling briefly in front of her and lifting her hands. “You belong here more than anyone.”
She scoffed and looked away—but her cheeks were dusted in pink.
Mid-Air: Quiet Moments and Warmth
Princess had long fallen asleep in her cozy cot, bundled like a dumpling in the warm blanket.
Y/N, however, was wide awake, pressing every button on the menu screen like a fascinated child.
“This thing has a stargazing mode?” she gasped. “Taehyung, the ceiling changes colors! Look!”
“Yes, yes,” he smiled, watching her excitement like someone who had just witnessed the sunrise after years of darkness.
“And the chair reclines all the way like a bed! Why do people even need hotel rooms if these exist?!”
Taehyung placed a hand on his heart in mock agony. “Please stop being so adorable. I can’t handle it.”
✧ Scene Title: “Altitude & Amour Served on Gold” ✧
The private cabin of the luxury jet glowed under soft amber lights, the windows darkened by automatic tint to create a cozy ambience. Princess was tucked away in the crib-bed beside them, her tiny fists clutching a silk blanket as she snored softly, dreaming baby dreams.
Y/N had just finished marveling at the interior decor again—gilded etchings along the paneling, a chandelier-style lighting cluster above them, and velvet cream seats that reclined smoother than any hotel bed she’d ever known. Everything felt like it was carved out of royalty’s daydreams.
She was still looking around like a stunned tourist when the steward entered, wheeling in a crystal-top table and covered silver domes.
“Your gourmet menu is served, sir,” the steward bowed slightly.
Taehyung smirked at her awe. “Wait till you taste what flying like royalty actually tastes like.”
He pulled the table forward and flicked the covers off with flair, like unveiling treasure.
Y/N’s jaw almost dropped.
✧ The Menu ✧
• A shimmering bowl of white truffle risotto topped with gold flakes
• Butter-seared scallops in a saffron champagne glaze
• Miniature duck roulades wrapped in herb-crusted pastry
• A deconstructed beetroot terrine with edible flowers and crystalized lime dust
• And for dessert, an exquisite lavender crème brûlée served with a spun sugar tiara
And beside it all—poured into long-stem glasses—was non-alcoholic chilled elderflower sparkling nectar, with a single blue orchid floating delicately inside.
Y/N blinked rapidly, trying to process the edible artwork before her.
“I—I don’t think I’m allowed to eat this. It feels like I’ll get fined if I breathe near it.”
Taehyung chuckled, slicing a piece of roulade and placing it gently on her plate. “You deserve to eat like this every day.”
She shook her head. “This is not eating. This is—this is attending the MET Gala in my mouth.”
“Exactly,” Taehyung grinned. “Bon appétit, my Lady of Paris.”
✧ In Between the Bites ✧
Y/N took a spoonful of the truffle risotto and paused.
Her pupils dilated.
Her whole soul seemed to ascend into a higher realm.
“I think I just forgave three of my ex-friends for no reason,” she whispered.
Taehyung laughed so hard he choked on his elderflower drink.
“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered.
“And you’re adorable and hilarious when you taste any dish.”
She poked his chest with her fork. “Why do you keep doing this?”
“Because I’m hopelessly in love with you,” he replied casually, lifting her hand and kissing the back of it. “Also, because I like watching you gasp like a five-year-old discovering fairy dust.”
✧ Dessert & Daydreams ✧
As the steward cleared the main course, he returned with the lavender crème brûlée. Y/N hesitated, then broke the sugar top with the back of her spoon. The scent alone made her eyes flutter shut.
“Mmhh,” she moaned softly.
Taehyung paused mid-sip.
“If you make that sound again, I might lose all my sanity.”
Y/N snorted, covering her mouth.
✧ Post-Meal Peace ✧
The lights dimmed into a soft, starry projection along the ceiling as the cabin settled into silence, until Y/N said softly,
“You always knew I was simple. I didn’t need any of this. But today…”
“…today I felt like the universe bowed a little for me.”
Taehyung’s voice was soft, warm, unshakable.
“Because you deserve it. And the universe should bow every day you smile.”
Y/N exhaled deeply.
For once, she didn’t argue.
Later: Her Head on His Shoulder
They didn’t speak for a while. The stars outside blinked like gentle secrets, and Y/N’s head slowly dropped on his shoulder, her breathing steady.
He didn’t move.
Not even a twitch.
His fingers rested near hers on the shared armrest, and all he could think of was how much this moment meant—her sleeping beside him, unaware that she’d just made a part of him feel at peace for the first time in years.
“You belong in all the luxury this world has,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “But I’d still love you even if we had to walk through fire barefoot.”
To be continued....
4 months ago | [YT] | 185
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♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Scene Title: “Operation Manali Departure: Saree, Sulks, and the Sulkiest Dog”
Location: Y/N’s Apartment & Fluffy Paws Luxury Pet Care, Morning of Departure
The apartment was in complete chaos.
Saree boxes, baby bottles, boarding passes, and an odd sherwani lay across the living room like a war had broken out—one made entirely of velvet and gemstones.
Y/N, wrapped in a pastel floral robe and her hair half-straightened, was running back and forth like she was being chased by the ghost of missed flights.
> “Taehyung, have you packed the pacifiers for Princess?”
> “She chewed two last night. I only found a chewed rubber stump this morning. Looked like a crime scene.”
> “Did you pack her wipes?!”
> “I packed a *whole department store*. Calm down, Mother Goose.”
Meanwhile, Princess, dressed in a lemon-yellow onesie and wearing sunglasses too big for her chubby face, was flopped over a suitcase—wailing melodramatically because Taehyung tried to tie her shoelaces.
Hunter sat by the door pouting in silence, his chin resting on the ground and his ears drooped like two sad curtains.
His expression screamed betrayal.
Y/N knelt down beside him, cupping his big fluffy face.
> “Hunter, sweetheart… it’s just two weeks. Okay? Just fourteen days. I’ll video call you every night—cross my heart.”
Hunter didn’t move.
He let out a long, deep sigh like a Victorian man watching his lover board a ship to America.
> “He hates me now,” Y/N declared dramatically, flopping back onto the floor.
> “He’s sulking because he knows you’re gonna party without him,” Taehyung replied, already in his travel gear: beige turtleneck, trench coat, and sunglasses that screamed *airport fashion king.*
---
Time Skip: Outside Fluffy Paws Luxury Pet Care Centre
The glass doors slid open like some elite five-star hotel lobby, revealing a reception area that smelled faintly of lavender and expensive shampoo. Behind the marble desk stood a woman in scrubs, smiling like a trained hostess at a spa.
> “Welcome to Fluffy Paws,” she chirped. “Hunter Bernard, yes? We've prepared the deluxe VIP suite for him. With a view of the koi pond and optional dog yoga.”
Y/N looked guilty as she held Hunter’s leash. “Will he like it?”
Hunter, meanwhile, was already inspecting the room through the glass—where a golden retriever was being fed organic chicken bites on a velvet cushion.
He blinked once, impressed.
> “He’ll live better than us,” Taehyung muttered.
Y/N knelt down and gave Hunter one last bear hug, burying her face in his thick fur. “No rolling in dirt. No biting the yoga instructor. And if you meet a poodle named Bella, remember—you have standards.”
Hunter licked her cheek with a slow, noble *farewell my queen* kind of gesture.
> “You better not forget me,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Hunter huffed and walked dramatically into the pet suite like a man who had accepted his fate at a five-star exile.
---
Time Skip: Back at the Apartment Door
Taehyung carried Princess in one arm and rolled two giant designer suitcases with the other like he was heading off to a fashion runway.
Y/N adjusted her jhumka earrings, did a twirl to test the swish of her long skirt, and tried not to cry again thinking about Hunter’s soulful goodbye glance.
> “We dropped our dog off at a wellness resort,” she muttered. “Should we even be allowed back into normal society?”
> “Let’s be real, he’s in better hands than us,” Taehyung said, patting down his trench coat. “The dude gets morning paw massages now. I’m still trying to survive back pain from holding Princess.”
Princess let out a squeal of agreement and tried to smack his sunglasses.
Y/N gave a mock salute. “Saree, sandals, sass. Locked and loaded.”
As they got into the car, Y/N suddenly turned and shouted toward the empty apartment—
> “Hunter, I’ll call you! Don’t flirt with the receptionist!”
The car doors closed.
Taehyung grinned, pulling out his phone. “He’s probably already sipping cucumber water and ignoring us.”
Y/N sighed dramatically. “We raised a diva.”
But somewhere at Fluffy Paws, Hunter lounged on a plush dog bed, a cucumber slice balanced on his head, watching koi fish like a man reborn.
Vacation had begun. For everyone.
To be continued....
4 months ago | [YT] | 25
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♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
Taehyung blinked.
Then blinked again.
And again.
His brain was buffering like an old computer trying to load a 4K video on a dial-up connection as he watched Y/N—his delicate, elegant, refined woman—sit cross-legged on the floor like a gremlin with an enormous delivery box open in front of her. The aroma alone was enough to knock a grown man out. He felt his sinuses flare up just from breathing near her.
It was that spicy.
“Love…” he said, cautiously, watching the way she unwrapped the heavily red, lava-coated chicken wings and pulled the first one close to her mouth like it was a duel to death.
Y/N didn’t even look at him. “Don’t talk.”
Taehyung shut up immediately.
She took the first bite.
A dramatic pause.
Her eyes didn’t even water. Not a flinch. She kept chewing, lips glistening in sauce, brows furrowed in that intense concentration scowl like she was solving world hunger, and the wing in her hand was the key.
She didn’t even blink as she reached for the next one, and then the next, eating like she had been possessed by the spirit of a spice demon and the only way to exorcise it was through combustion-level consumption.
Taehyung sat on the sofa, wide-eyed, hands frozen in his lap as if movement might disturb her flow.
The baby monitor buzzed softly beside him, but Princess was fast asleep. He wondered if she’d inherited Y/N’s spice tolerance. God help him if she had.
“Babe…” he tried again, barely above a whisper, “Are you... okay?”
Y/N didn’t answer. She downed another wing, licked her thumb with surgical precision, and then finally glanced at him with fire in her eyes and a nose slightly pink from the heat.
“I needed this,” she said darkly, voice raspy from the sheer force of the masala.
Taehyung raised his hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”
By the time she reached the final wing, her lips were practically vibrating, a drop of sweat forming at her temple, but she didn’t stop. She was a warrior. A commander. A gladiator in a colosseum of chilies.
And Taehyung was just her stunned audience of one.
She finally looked at him as she finished, grabbed a napkin with grace unbecoming of someone who had just battled spice level ten, and wiped her fingers carefully.
Then she sipped her cold water like a CEO sipping vintage wine.
Taehyung blinked again. “You terrify me. In the sexiest way possible.”
Y/N smirked. “Good. Next time I’m ordering the ghost pepper curry.”
Taehyung shivered.
“Do you want a bite?” she offered casually.
He laughed—an actual nervous laugh. “I value my intestines, thank you.”
Y/N just leaned back with a sigh, completely satisfied, resting a hand over her stomach like a food god had descended and blessed her soul.
Taehyung stared at her, chest swelling with affection, a little horror, and a whole lot of awe. “I'm in love with a dragon.”
“And you better keep her well-fed,” she mumbled with her eyes closed.
“Yes, Your Fire-Breathing Majesty.”
The next morning arrived unusually quiet, cloaked in an eerie silence that settled like a storm brewing behind the clouds. The neighborhood bustled with routine—a woman swept her porch, a fruit vendor rang his brass bell down the alley—but inside the apartment, the air was thick with something else. Tension. Shadows moved behind curtains. Even Hunter, lounging lazily by the door, kept growling low in his throat.
Y/N, still in her soft morning robe, sat on the couch feeding mashed fruit to Princess, who refused to keep still. Taehyung had just walked out of the bathroom, hair damp and white shirt half-buttoned, when the door suddenly banged.
A fist. Then another. Then a loud, guttural scream.
"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" The unmistakable voice of the landlady shrieked from behind the door, followed by the sound of polished leather shoes and radios crackling.
Y/N froze mid-spoon. Taehyung’s eyes narrowed, ice slicing through his calm. He didn’t need to look through the peephole—he already knew.
He opened the door slowly.
The landlady stood outside with two police officers flanking her like rabid hunting dogs she thought she controlled. Her hair was pinned too tight, her shawl flailing from one shoulder, and her lips twisted with a smirk of authority.
"I told you,” she spat, pointing a crooked finger at Y/N behind him. “This isn’t a place for loud, bossy women who twist their men around their fingers. This is my house. We follow my rules. No woman here tells a man what to do!”
Taehyung’s hand gripped the doorframe.
“And your so-called husband? Acting like a servant. Hah! If my Harry ever behaved like that, I'd slap him straight. But you—” she sneered at Y/N, “—you sit there acting all high and mighty while the man plays your wife. What a disgrace. You people don’t belong here. I’ve brought the police. Pack your bags and GET OUT."
Y/N instinctively stepped back, shielding Princess, who whimpered sensing the rise in anger. Even Hunter growled from his place behind the curtain, baring teeth that could snap a wrist in half.
The two officers stepped forward—but the moment they caught sight of Taehyung, everything in the air changed.
They halted. Blinked.
One of them, a tall man with a golden badge and a stern face, immediately stiffened. His eyes widened like he had seen a ghost. Then, as if a silent alarm had gone off, he straightened his back and bowed—bowed—to Taehyung.
The second officer followed suit, albeit with shaky hands.
“Monsieur Kim,” the first officer said quickly in French, clearing his throat. “Apologies. We… we weren’t told it was you.”
The landlady blinked rapidly. “What? What are you doing? I called you to throw them out! They’re freeloaders! Look at them! They attacked on me in my own house!"
“Madame,” the officer interrupted coldly now, voice losing all pretense of politeness. “Do you have any idea who this man is?”
“What? He’s just—some flashy businessman—”
“This is Kim Taehyung,” the second officer hissed low under his breath. “CEO of Vante Corp. CEO of Kim conglomerates. The man who owns half of the docks in Marseille. And more than half the city’s lawyers, hospitals, and banks. Not to mention…” he hesitated, glancing at the hallway to check no one was listening, “…the Commander Noir.”
Taehyung stood calmly, not moving an inch. Not blinking.
The first officer turned to him with visible respect. “Is everything alright, sir? Shall we… escort her away instead?”
The landlady paled. “E-escort me?! He—he’s just a spoiled man with wealth! You—you’re being paid off, aren’t you?”
But her voice was now a faltering mess, cracking under the weight of a reality she hadn’t expected. Her husband Harry stood at the stairs watching silently, lips parted in confusion. Even he had never seen the police react like that.
Taehyung tilted his head slightly, a lazy smile forming—cold, dangerous, and elegant like velvet on a dagger.
He stepped forward, voice ice.
“You walked into my house. Yelled at my Y/N. Scared our Princess.”
He took one more step, and she stumbled back.
“You think I’ll let that pass? You wanted us gone?”
He turned to the officers.
“She wants to evict us. I’d like a full background check on this woman. Tax fraud, land documents, and every illegal petty complaint she’s filed over the years. If I find even one violation—”
The landlady gasped. “You can’t—!”
“I can,” Taehyung cut her off. “And I will.”
“Sir,” the officer nodded, already pulling out his phone.
The landlady looked like she might faint. “I—I didn’t know—You are all corrupted—”
“You treat every woman like this?” Taehyung asked sharply. “Or just the ones who don’t lower their eyes and beg?”
Hunter growled again, as if echoing the tension in his master's voice.
The woman flinched, suddenly aware of every pair of eyes in the corridor—neighbors peeking through curtains, stunned into silence.
Taehyung turned back to Y/N, who stood still in the hallway, holding Princess close, lips trembling not with fear, but restraint.
“Let me handle this.” he said gently to her. “This filth isn’t worth your ears.”
Y/N nodded slowly, retreating into the apartment with Princess. The baby had sensed enough unease to bury her face into Y/N’s neck and cling tight.
Once the door closed behind them, Taehyung faced the landlady again.
“You may own the bricks of this building,” he said, voice low and cruel, “but if I wish, I’ll own you by the end of the week. Get out of my sight.”
The woman fled, almost tripping over her own slippers. Her husband ran after her, calling her name. The officers exchanged looks, then bowed once more before turning to leave, respectfully and without a word.
And Taehyung?
He remained in the hallway for one more minute, jaw tight, chest heaving once.
Then he stepped back inside, quietly locking the door behind him.
The silence that followed was laced with power—and no one in that building would ever forget the day they saw fear bow to love.
To be continued....
4 months ago | [YT] | 18
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♡ JungSu ♡
➡️ Kindly read the previous pov that I posted a few minutes ago ⬅️
Continuation of the previous pov:-
The lights in the bedroom were dimmed to a warm golden hue, the soft rustle of the curtains barely audible in the stillness of the late afternoon. Outside, the Parisian sky was grumbling with the promise of rain, but inside, it was quiet—except for the faint hum of a lullaby Taehyung had put on for Princess, who was napping in the next room with Hunter curled protectively beside her.
Y/N lay on the bed, curled slightly on her side, her face creased with exhaustion and the dull ache of cramps lingering under her skin. PMS had her in its brutal clutch—her body sore, her emotions frayed thin, and her soul just desperately needing rest. Her breathing was soft now, but Taehyung could tell she wasn’t truly asleep. There was still tension in her muscles. Her fingers twitched occasionally. Her brow furrowed every few seconds like her body was struggling even in sleep.
He sat beside her slowly, careful not to startle her. His hand brushed away a few strands of hair from her forehead, his knuckles grazing the side of her temple with a reverence that spoke volumes.
“Mon amour…” he murmured quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I know it hurts.”
Y/N stirred faintly, her eyes fluttering open halfway, glazed with fatigue.
“I don’t want to move…” she croaked.
“You don’t have to,” Taehyung whispered, his lips kissing the corner of her mouth. “Just stay still. I’ll take care of everything.”
Gently, he guided her to lie on her stomach. His hands—strong, warm, and precise—started with her temples, massaging in small, slow circles. She let out a low hum, the first sign of relief in hours. He worked his way down her head, running his fingers through her hair and pressing gently at pressure points near her scalp. His touch was healing—neither too light nor too firm, just the perfect pressure to release the migraine lodged behind her eyes.
Then, his hands moved to her shoulders, kneading the tight knots with devotion. His thumb pressed into the ridges of muscle just below her neck, drawing soft whimpers from her that made him frown in concern.
“Why didn’t you tell me it hurt this much, ma chérie?” he murmured.
“I didn’t want to be a burden,” she mumbled into the pillow, eyes still shut.
His hands froze for a second. “You’re not a burden. Ever. You’re mine to care for. Always.”
And with that, he resumed, taking his time as he rolled his knuckles across her shoulder blades, letting the tension melt away. After her upper back was loosened, he slipped down to her arms, lifting one at a time, pressing his thumbs into her palms and down each finger with absolute delicacy. Her fingers twitched under his touch, and she gave a sleepy sigh.
“I feel like crying more when you pamper me like this,” she said, her voice heavy with sleep and gratitude.
He chuckled softly. “I love you no matter what. But I’ll still take that as a win.”
He shifted to the edge of the bed, pulling the soft blanket slightly higher over her hips as he uncovered her legs. His touch was reverent as he massaged her calves first, then her ankles, working his way up with gentle care. Each slow press of his palm, each circular rub against the tension in her thighs, was infused with unspoken love. He made sure to move softly, aware of how tender her body felt during these days. Not once did he rush.
When he reached her feet, he looked up to find her fully asleep now, breathing deep and even. Her body looked a little more relaxed, the tension in her brow gone. Her lips were slightly parted, as if finally able to rest in peace.
Taehyung pressed a kiss to her ankle, pulled the blanket over her completely, and dimmed the lights a little more. He quietly left the room to check on Princess, but before closing the door behind him, he turned once more to look at the sleeping figure of his queen.
“You give everything to everyone,” he whispered. “Let me give everything to you.”
And with that, he left her to dream, his heart full and soft.
Scene: Y/N wakes up from her nap to find Taehyung has done everything—again
The soft rustling of curtains stirred her from slumber. Outside, the sun had long begun its descent, drenching the apartment in an amber glow. Y/N blinked slowly, disoriented. Her head felt lighter than before, the sharp edge of her headache dulled into a quiet hum. But as her eyes adjusted to the familiar space—the tidy coffee table, the clean kitchen sink, the faint scent of lemon soap in the air—her stomach dropped.
She shot up from the couch, eyes darting toward the clock. 4:47 PM. She had napped for nearly three hours.
“Taehyung?” she called, her voice raw from sleep.
“Hmm?” Taehyung’s voice floated in from the kitchen, casual, calm, unaware of the storm brewing inside her chest.
She staggered to her feet and walked toward him, her heart sinking further with every step. There he was, dressed in loose black joggers and a faded grey t-shirt, hair pulled back with a clip, standing barefoot at the stove. He was stirring ramen broth in one hand while holding Princess on his hip with the other. The baby had one hand in his hair and another clumsily holding a toy.
“Taehyung…” she whispered, her eyes already misty.
He turned at the sound of her voice, smiling, “Hey, love. Feeling better?”
She didn’t reply.
Instead, her lips quivered.
Taehyung frowned immediately, placing the spatula down and bouncing Princess lightly on his arm, “Y/N… what’s wrong? Are you in pain again?”
“I-I slept too much,” she choked, her voice cracking, “And you… you did everything, Taehyung. You’re cooking, holding Princess, cleaning—and your laptop’s still open, you were working too. You didn’t even rest.”
Taehyung blinked, confused at first. But then, his expression softened when he saw the guilt in her trembling mouth and the tears pooling in her lashes.
“Y/N…” he walked toward her, shifting Princess to one arm with practiced ease and using the other to cup her cheek. “You were hurting. You needed to rest.”
“But—” she sniffled, trying to step away, “It’s not fair on you! You have your own job, your own body to care for. You… you shouldn’t have to do all this alone just because I’m—because I’m a hormonal mess—”
“Hey. Stop,” he interrupted, his voice low but firm, brushing his thumb under her eye to catch the tears before they could fall. “You’re not a mess. You’re my love. And I’m not doing anything for you, I’m doing it with you… because we’re a team, remember?”
“But I feel useless,” she murmured, breath hitching.
“You’re not,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You’re the strongest woman I know. Some days your body will need rest. Some days you’ll be crying for no reason, or all the reasons. And some days, you’ll scold me for stacking the towels wrong,” he added with a tiny grin. “And I’ll still be here for it all.”
She finally let the tears roll down then, curling into his side, careful not to squish Princess. “You’re too good to me…”
“No,” Taehyung murmured against her temple. “I’m just giving you what you always deserved.”
Princess, still perched in his arm, leaned forward and patted Y/N’s head as if mimicking her uncle’s affection. That made Y/N laugh through her tears, even if just a little.
And in that moment—between the quiet kitchen hum, the spicy aroma of simmering dinner, the softness of love woven through fatigue and affection—Y/N realised she wasn’t failing. She was just loved… deeply, wholly, and without conditions.
To be continued.....
4 months ago | [YT] | 26
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