#IPK

[titaliya]

HAPPY 14 YEARS OF IPKKND!!! God! Isn't 14 special? So, here's a little something for it... Click on the link and dive in....

Blazing Garnet

Khushi's fingers couldn't get enough of the fabric that belonged to the gorgeous maroon saree that lay beside her and her eyes stayed fixed at the dainty diamond set that accompanied it.

She was expected to attend this fancy charity auction with her husband, and so these had been sent over from AR. She didn't know whether the event had been organised in the last minute or she had been shoved with the information that she'd been joining, in the last minute. Either way, she was in no mood to attend a Gala. But, did she have the option to sit out? Absolutely Not!

She sighed in resignation. The happenings of the previous day had completely shaken her and left her feeling numb. She had told the truth and Arnav had chosen not to believe her. There, Khushi was still stagnant there, still unable to process what he thought about her. How could she? How could anyone? He'd questioned the very morals around which she'd built her whole life, the very base of her belief system.

It felt like life had been drained out of her and her insides felt like they'd been iced to numbness, expect a fresh jolt of pain ripped through her everytime she thought of his accusations.

She couldn't feel anything, not the tears she'd been shedding, not the anger that'd been simmering underneath nor the disappointment that'd been lingering, She couldn't feel anything but the raw glaring emptiness that was eating her from inside out.

She had thought, proving him wrong would make her feel better. The only way she could do that, was to involve her family or have the snake confess and either way was out of question. She'd finally resorted to trying to convince him, speak sense into him.

So, she had spent the whole of the previous day at his office waiting hour after hour to talk to him, she hadn't got the chance to and suddenly she hadn't felt as hopeful anymore. When he'd finally come home, not only had the words failed her, but, she'd let him have the final say! He'd told her to only do what she was told to do by him.

Or, her efforts had been subconsciously half hearted to the least, because, she could no longer see what the point was, what she would do if he decided to still remain unconvinced.

So, Khushi had decided on it. She was going to follow whatever he asks of her until the contract comes to an end. Because, there weren't anymore fights left in her. She convinced herself, lesser the drama, easier the parting.

That morning, when he'd instructed her about the event, she simply nodded, no questions asked and she could see it, the glint of surprise in his eyes, when she hadn't offered any resistance.

With only an hour left before Mohan could pick her up and drop her at the venue, Khushi willed herself, to get up and get ready.

It was time for Khushi to become Arnav Singh Raizada's Wife, a decoy no less, with the over-priced saree and the expensive jewellery and all the glitz and glam. She was pretty sure, she was going to feel horribly foreign in her own skin and she was going to hate every bit of it. But that was what Arnav had wanted and she was going to give him that!

°°°°°°°°

Arnav paced back and forth in front of his car. He was at the venue and Khushi hadn't arrived yet. He was getting frustrated by the minute.

That very familiar tiny rational part of his brain reasoned 'You coming early to the venue, doesn't mean she's late. You had barked at her to be here by 6.30 sharp and it's only 6.15..'

But, he couldn't the shut that voice out as easily as before. He had confronted her, exposed her, that meant the voice should have stopped existing all together! But, instead it had gotten louder, clearer, persistantly ringing, telling him that he was frustrated at himself and not at her!

Along with his conscience, something else was also bothering him, something about Khushi, about her behaviour. It didn't sit right with him. She'd been looking so..so lost, so not herself... So much so it was beginning to scare him. He had deemed it all an act to her face, that she only portrayed herself pitiful. It'd stung him after he'd uttered those words, maybe because he truly didn't believe in them. Even that, hadn't elicited a response from her either.

'Or you finally managed to break her' the voice spoke up and a chill ran down his spine.

Her version of the events, it made sense to him. It fit ... infact a little too perfectly. How could it be so, if it wasn't all concocted?

'But, What if it wasn't?'

No! He couldn't think like that! Because, that would mean he was wrong and how could he be wrong? He had seen her, heard her. Yes, he had. He couldn't be doubting his senses, Could he? That meant what he'd thought about her was right? Why was he even questioning all this? Why was he beginning to distrust his judgement?

Arnav's hand flew up to massage his temple. Eversince, that fateful night on the terrace, his head and his heart had constantly been in battle and after yesterday it had only gotten naggingly pulsatile.

In his peripheral vision, he caught the glimpse of a Raizada car rolling in. He sighed in relief walking towards it.

The car parked on a clearing and out, Khushi got down and Arnav stopped dead on his tracks.

He could feel the world around him blurring, fading and she ensnaring the entirety of his focus. He was being held captive, by even her subtlest movement, the mere flicker of her eyes as she assessed the surrounding.

Swallowing hard, he cursed under his breath. How had he not thought this through? He'd asked one of his designers to send something over to his wife for the event. Of course, she had chosen one from the latest collection - The Forbidden Rose, that was inspired by Khushi and extensively developed with Khushi in mind. His staff didn't know that, but, it was their newest collection, so, it only made sense to choose from it.

The deep red fabric was dotted with an ombre of crystals along the edges to mimic dew on roses - just like the ones he grew in his carefully tended garden. The diamonds she wore were delicate vines entangling each other around tiny red garnets , ending in a teardrop, with matching drop earrings.

Ofcourse, he'd envisioned her in this attire when he'd overlooked the design. But, nothing, nothing could have prepared him for this. She was just simply breathtaking... simply ethereal...

The colour on her, perfectly illuminated her skin, drawing out the warm honey of her eyes,  softening her features. The fluid drape, clung to her in a way that it left little to his imagination. Her hair rested in gentle curls over her shoulder and he couldn't take his eyes off her even for a fleeting moment.

And, like she'd felt his gaze bearing her down, her eyes flew to meet his. The earth stilled beneath him, a silent, short gasp trapped in his throat and something heavy settled on his chest.

Her eyes carried a frailty, an unsurety, breaking a little something inside of him. She quickly averted her gaze and headed in his direction. All the turbulence in his mind, suddenly withdrew and only the aching reminder, he'd done this to her, remained.

°°°°°°°°

Honestly, seeing Arnav at the venue before her, she'd expected some berating her way, but, that hadn't happened. After she'd met him at the parking, he'd simply led her to the entrance. Then, all they had to do was their well rehearsed dance of an ideal couple.

Khushi's heart felt much lighter, now that the event had got over. She usually quite enjoyed social gatherings, but, this one had wrecked her nerves. This had been nothing unlike the ones the Raizadas usually organized. But, she could socialize in those events. Today, had been suffocating for her. Because, she could feel it, people walking around with the air of sophistication. Usually, she wouldn't be bothered by it, but, today it'd felt like she was way out of place in this crowd. Maybe, it was an uncomfortable reminder of how different his world was from hers and how delusional she'd been to think she would fit in.

But, she'd managed to handle it. She'd tried to channel Anjali Di and her sister and it had somewhat helped her.

All that was left to do was get to Shantivan, get out of the saree and jewellery and get it ready to be returned to AR. So, Khushi spent the car ride back, keeping count of every turn that led to the mansion.

Arnav felt more perturbed than before. She definitely wasn't herself. She'd been nervous and so unsure of herself throughout the evening, very unlike her. She'd spoken only when spoken to, kept her replies curt and smiles polite. That was all.

He should be okay with that, but he was not.. He couldn't convince himself that it was all an a act as well. Because, he could see it, her trying to hold herself together for the sake of the party.

Khushi usually would've made everyone fall in love with her, charmed them into conversation, blended in effortlessly in her own way.

At the least, would've gotten people to sign up as customers for her catering service.

Yeah right! she had decided to no longer run the catering service. A pang of hurt clenched in him, his thoughts ran haywire.

"I'm the daughter of a confectioner and the wife of a businessman"

The memory flashed before him. How adorably had she claimed the rights of being his wife, when she'd begun her catering venture. She was now letting it go.

"Half of the room is yours, half of it is mine"

How confindently had she gone about decorating his room with all her knick knacks, making it equally hers in the process. Now, it was all gone, the chimes, the stars, even the damned poster... She had decided to make their room, his again.

And it was killing him in the inside as she'd gone and done that.

It wasn't just about her business or the room. It was as if she was undoing everything they'd built upto this point - however flawed, however wrong, it had been rightfully theirs and she was detaching herself from it, from him.

So much so, she had decided to make his Khushi into this ghost of a person.

And, whose fault is that?

Arnav clutched the steering wheel hard. His inner voice was right... He was responsible for this, and this was his punishment... What hurt him more was, she was punishing herself as well...

He glanced at her, she was gazing out the window but watching nothing in particular.

The pain was getting unbearable.

No... He decided, bringing his attention back to the road. He shouldn't care this much. He couldn't...This was a liability, this was temporary.

Maybe, he was reading too much into this or maybe, this was how it was supposed to be for the remainder of the contract period. He'd have to get used to this.

°°°°°°°°

The agonizing silence from the car had followed them into the confines of his room as well.

Khushi, watched as he carried out his routine- the one she had memorized. The shoes near the TV unit, socks in the Laundry basket, then the tie would come off, followed by the waistcoat, then he'd reach for his closet. It was the same everyday, except today he seemed more over the edge than usual.

Khushi contemplated whether to ask the question lingering in her mind. Judging by his demeanor, it didn't seem ideal. But her mind reminded her, that it was always going to be this way. So, she braced herself and let the words frame a coherent question.

"Will your staff come to pick the saree and the set, tomorrow?"

Her voice cut through the room, claiming his attention. A tinge of annoyance bubbled inside Arnav, at the words. What the hell was she getting at? He'd just managed to put thoughts about her, past him and she comes up with something like that?

He couldn't care less about such triviality, Could he?

"Just keep it! I don't care what you do with it, Okay?!" He snapped, grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom, slamming the door shut!

The day's vexation finally got to Khushi. She settled before the mirror, hurriedly but gently getting off the choker and earrings, placing it in the box that it came with, and kept it on the coffee table, where his office bag sat.

She perched on the edge of the dresser bench, trying to calm her restless heart. Her hand pulled out the bobby pins that held her hair and tied it into a bun.

She stared at her reflection. How could he ask her to keep it? Like she was after his stuff or something?!

A whimper broke out of her lips and hot, angry tears clouded her vision. He closed her eyes letting them spill, taking in deep breaths trying to will away her agitation.

She didn't realise how long she sat like that, before she heard the click of the bathroom door. She needed to get up and get going about the day. But, moving her legs had become a task in itself.

Through the corner of his eye, Arnav noticed Khushi standing up from the dressing table, wearily moving across the the room and the familiar twinge of hurt consumed him. 

He sighed. He needed a distraction, he concluded. He couldn't let this keep affecting him. He needed to work himself to exhaustion, he thought, settling himself on the recliner. That was when the jewel box caught his eye. The one with his company's label.

Something ticked off in him. "Khushi, wait!" he said in a low voice.

Clutching the box, he walked to her "What are you trying to do?" He asked, holding it out to her. His voice had a steady calmness to it.

Khushi tried to be as unfazed as possible, before she spoke "I'm not doing anything... Arnav Ji " she uttered, trying to side step him. She wasn't ready to do this now.

"I asked you to keep this." he stated, blocking her.

"I don't want it."she answered numbly, her eyes fixed to the floor.

How he hated when she spoke without meeting his eyes.

"Khushi..." He took in a deep breath. Something about her was keeping his temper in line. "Look at me, listen to me...please..."

She took a moment, as if deciding something, but then her eyes found his and she didn't miss the hint of softness in them.

"It's no big deal, it's just a necklace." He emphasized.

Khushi shook her head, denying. It wasn't just a necklace, and her defiance definitely wasn't about just a necklace.

"It's because of what I said the other day, isn't it? That you get to reap the perks of being a Raizada! " He questioned, his tone still steady

"No..." She replied, her gaze shifting back to the floor

"Then, what is it? What are you trying to prove?" He could feel his patience beginning to slip away.

That question stirred something inside Khushi. Her eyes shot to meet his... "Haven't I already told you, I have nothing to prove?" she asked, her voice heavy.

She could see his face tense up, his jaw clench.

But, he held his stead. "Oh really? Is that why you waited the whole day in my office yesterday?" He scoffed.

"Yes, I waited! I was stupid enough to think you'll actually listen to me..." She retorted, sounding shaky.

"I don't need to listen to you... I know what I saw, what I heard...."

Khushi cut him off, all the bottled up inside her, seeking an escape. "No! You don't know!" she cried.

"Stop it, Khushi!" Arnav was seething inside, but held on to very last bit of his restraint.

"Whatever you plan on doing to convince me otherwise, it's not going to work. So, I'm telling this one last time, wrap up all this drama." he concluded, gesturing between her and the jewel box.

He turned away, placing the box on the night stand, all prepared to leave the place, when he heard Khushi calling after...

"Yes! Walk away, like you always do! That's what you do best!"

She had had enough. She no longer cared that she hit a nerve. He'd been the one insistent on pushing her to speak and the minute she gave into it, he turned the other way.

That was it for Arnav. That was his final straw.

He crossed the length of the room in two long strides.

"What was that supposed to mean?" hissed Arnav, backing her in a corner, holding her by her arms. The impact, unknotting her hair from its twist.

Khushi's gaze matched the fierceness in his own. "You know exactly what I mean.... You run from reality, because it scares you!... Why else would you be okay with choosing to believe a twisted opinion of me over... " Khushi's breathing was harsh and sharp but she continued, " over the truth?" A sudden wave of fatigue washed over her, her body shivered and tears didn't seem to stop.

Arnav stood rooted to the spot, his face blanching, his fingers sliding down the length of her arms and back to his side. She'd read and recited him like a book and he couldn't deny she was right.

He took one look at her and realised how fragile she was, barely holding herself together. The truth that she spoke of, was not about the wretched brother-in-law, or the terrace and it struck him, it never was, never had been about that.

Khushi's silent sobs slowed and her breathing gradually deepened. Catching a glimpse of him still weighing what she'd blurted, her heart betrayed her once more, a tiny hope blooming in her.

When he finally shook off his daze, his eyes meeting hers, "No...."  breathed Arnav, his vain attempt at holding his stand, at his disbelief on her. But, it came out a lot like a plea.

Accepting her truth meant, his actions towards her were unforgivable.

He searched into the depths of her eyes, to find some form of pretense, something at all.

And, like she could perceive his doubts, Khushi spoke again, with whatever little that was left of her "Why couldn't you see it... The truth was right here...I...." She whimpered "I..I have always been here...."

"Always?" he mouthed.

"Hamesha...."

The instant that word slipped out her mouth, he knew to his bone what she was conveying, what her words implied. That for her, It had always been him and only him. Nothing else mattered to him, every doubt, every uncertainty, every baseless accusation, vanished into thin air.

He took a step towards her. And for once, she didn't take a step back. Instead, she was looking up at him, beholding him in her gaze, her breath hitching, her lips quivering ever so slightly.

And, before he knew it, his hands found the side of her face, his lips were on hers

°°°°°°°°

Khushi gasped at the contact. It was supple, tentative, merely a tug sending jolts of sparks through her. But, soon her lips melted into his.

Arnav took the cue to deepen the kiss, eliciting a soft sound from her, sending his senses over drive. She felt her knees give away, her body mould into his, either for support or craving more proximity. Her muddled brain couldn't tell.

His hands slid to her waist, steadying her. The flimsy drape of her saree, giving way for his fingers to slip beneath, his fingertips lingering on her skin in a delicate pressure. While, Khushi's fingers skimmed over his neck and tangled in his hair.

Reminding himself to not get carried away. He gently pulled away, resting his forehead on hers. Her breathing was still uneven, her chest rising and falling , colour blossoming in her cheeks, her clothing barely holding up.

His hand flew up, brushing away the wisps of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear, before pressing a soft kiss to her temple. The faint scent of her hair, a mix of citrus and something subtly floral - jasmine, enveloped him, a familiar comfort after the storm that'd weathered.

She looked at him through fluttering lashes, her warm hazel orbs, glinting in anticipation and Arnav's world shifted on it's axis. A surge of affection flooded through him. This was the woman who'd seen through his icy walls, who'd seen his darkest, yet, held on to him, anchored him back to her, even when he'd given her no reason to. She was his Khushi. Irrevocably his.

Khushi reached out him, her hand trembling a little, as it settled against his chest, his heart thundering under her fingers. This was beyond surreal for her, like her mind was playing a trick, like if she moved or blinked, the moment would dissolve, he would disappear - again....

"Khushi..." he exhaled, the sound a low rumble against her ear as he pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her waist, as if he'd sensed her thoughts, tethering her.

This was real... He wasn't going anywhere.

He tilted her head back, a soft moan escaping her throat, and she arched into him as his lips found the curve of her neck, lazily tracing every inch of it, sending shivers down her spine, dizzying her.

He could feel the desperate cling of her fingers, beckoning him to face her. Standing on her tip toes, she pulled him into a peck - slow, hesitant, her movements precise, testing, learning.

Arnav leaned into her, indulging in her taste, drinking in her sighs, her intoxicating scent, pushing her threshold, merely parting owing to their lungs.

The whisper of desire, lulled between them. How could they ever get enough of each other, the pull growing undeniably intense. The air around them, crackling with their unspoken yearning.

"There's no going back..." His voice hoarse, words heavy, a statement of both warning and unwavering resolve.

"I know..." she said, her voice a soft murmur against his shoulder, her arm wrapping around him, pulling him further into her embrace.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice raw with vulnerability, completely overwhelmed by her blatant trust in him.

"Yes," she nodded, her breath warm against his skin, her palm resting against his jaw, feathering kisses on his cheek. Each light touch, sent an aching heat rushing through his veins..

The last of his self-control snapped, and this time their lips met with an urgency, a new fervor.

Khushi barely registered being lifted off her feet, her back hitting the mattress.

Every thought remained suspended in her head and all she remembered, was the subtle burn of his  stubble against her skin, the tenderness of his kisses trailing down her body, the ripple of his muscles under her fingertips, the hum of electricity, coursing through her very being.

And, Arnav cherished her, etching her to memory, completely baring himself to her. Every touch, every caress, every kiss a silent promise of no longer running, no longer hiding, but staying, holding on and making it up to her for the rest of his life.

He'd found his way back to her and he was never letting her go.

______________________

Was randomly looking up gemstones one day, and learned that Garnets are apparently symbol of passion, loyalty and longevity. It's safe to say, that inspired this one shot.

Hope you like it!

Lots of love,

Titaliya

Tagging: @arshifiesta @featheredclover @hand-picked-star @hand-written-dreams @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @pyaargulzar

[chotebabua]

Will I ever stop talking about the dargah sequence?

The answer is NO. It was so beautifully shot and it spoke so much about their equation without giving away anything. I loved how Arnav and Khushi were so unaware of each other, because, of course, shuruwat thi. And Arziyan as the background score made so much sense and added this very important poignant touch to the entire sequence. Their story was completely fated, and this was the gateway.

The purity of this frame speaks volumes!

There was also one particular scene that really portrayed the inner psyche of Arnav Singh Raizaada, otherwise an unapologetic atheist and disbeliever of any higher power other than himself. His disbelief was perfectly portrayed in the sequence where he was heading towards to dargah, with a stoic expression and his oblivious disregard for the poor. We see him dodging the peacock feathers, and even the crowd around him. But then, he enters the dargah with flowers in his hands and most importantly,

He bows down before the tomb.

This one frame gave away the deeper insight of Arnav, for the first time. Arnav, who is sensitive, respectful and surprisingly, considerate. Not the stern, arrogant, and no nonsense Arnav Singh Raizaada that we were familiar with.

[itsbemighty]

Find Me Here

I have created this ID because watty is acting weird and here you can find me.. Insta is on the way but for now we can chat here so we have some connection - i wont be posting chapters here but atleast we can discuss na.. so here it is Lots of Love Bemighty!

[in-ankhon-ki-masti]

You cry over Snape's "Always"

I cry over Arshi's "Hamesha"

We are not the same.

[lilanddraws]

Girls trip! we’re going to Paris to see the IPK

[trisneosetiawan]

Konsolidasi Teknis Indeks Pembangunan Ketenagakerjaan | Medan 15 - 17 Nopember 2023

[featheredclover]

Happy 14 years!

Tagging: @hand-picked-star @phuljari @msbhagirathi @thenainitaldisaster @thedupattaknowswhatsup @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @barshifan @andli @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @minpdnim @bigfatreader @arshiradio @simplycurlz @scorpio-smiles @bengudill @exosexosekai @0218fm @chaiandtakkar @colorfulangelpeach

[phuljari]

social media au! part 2

summary : khushi is a model and influencer; arnav just seems to stumble upon her profile one day— not so much by accident. (or what if khushi fell in love at first sight?)

warnings : just some hindi/hinglish, cussing in both languages. deliberate typos. online stalker!shyam. flirting with the boss

a/n : i am...trying something new (by using the word prompts) #IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta @arshifiesta

hellohibyebye

liked by aakash_r, amanmathur, gulabo_devyani, anjaliiiii.r, mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada, hari_prakash and 137 others

hellohibyebye haaye! ekdum vaijanthimaala laagat hai hum😍🥰

⚫kaala tika najar na lage e ke khatir⚫

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aakash_r Maa group pe daalne ko bola tha, Instagram pe nahi 🤦

gulabo_devyani Manorama! Ye Hear. hum aapko diye naahi the... Toh kaisan aap pehen liye?

anjaliiiii.r Mamiji 👌😍

mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada Thoda vakht nikal ke humare saath bhi ek-do photu khichwaye leti!

⤷hellohibyebye aap photo me bilkul handsome.... nahi laagat hai 😒

hari_prakash B//J...K>';edxnnnnddd

iMessage "Raizada Group"

Aakash Maa aapne instagram pe post kar diya 🤦

Manorama toh ka hui gawa? hainn

Mahendra Bohot sundar laagat hai tumhari amma 😊

Akash liked a message

Manorama liked a message

Devyani Humra. Haar. Dena mat bhulna. Onmanorama.

Anjali Arre Aakash, karne do yaar, umar hai inki 😌

HP Ji Naniji, hum abhi wapas rakhwa dete hain

HP hhhhhhhh?/?????

Aakash HP yaar tune firse phone bandh kiye bina pocket me rakh diya... buttdial nahi, yaha toh butt-typo hote hain😶

Anjali 😂😂🤣🤣🤣

Arnav seen

Anjali Chotte yahan bolna mana nahi hai!

Arnav: Di, I'm in a meeting right now. Ttyl

Anjali: Arre, chotte 🤦‍♀️

Manorama added NK to Raizada Group

NK: Hello bhaiyyon aur bhabhiyon

Anjali: Bhabhiyon nahi NK bhai, beheno!

NK: Haan wahi Di! You understand me so well!!

Aakash: 😂😂

Arnav left Raizada Group

NK: Oh no Nannav! Tum kyu chale gaye

Aakash: You know that he can't see the messages now right?

NK: Oh, Whoops! Wait

NK added Arnav to Raizada Group

NK: Nannav mere bhai!! How are you??

Arnav: Isn't it like 3 AM in Sydney?

NK: Nannav, naughty naughty, tumne time check kiya mere liye! So cutee! I'm at your home doofus 😂

Arnav: gtg

Arnav left Raizada Group

iMessage

Anjali: Ye har baat pe chotte group kyu leave kar dete ho?

Arnav: Di! WTF ye NK kya kar raha hai Shantivan me?

Anjali:😶‍🌫️

iMessage

Aman: Sir, we have officially signed Ms. Khushi Kumari Gupta!

Arnav: Good

Arnav: Kumari?

Aman: That's her middle name boss

Arnav: Oh, okay

iMessage

Aakash: Bhai, you signed THE KHUSHI GUPTA??

Arnav: Yes

Arnav: And she's not that popular c'mon

Aakash: Bhai do you even use instagram? 😭

Arnav: Of Course!

Arnav: Btw I have more followers than her 😒 So much for "influencer"

Aakash: That's her personal profile Bhai! You have to see @/thekhushigupta

seen

thekhushigupta

liked by divalavanya, payaliyaa, guptagarima, aakash_r, shyamjha, versace, arnavsinghraizada, saritaraman and 396,981 others

thekhushigupta @/versace thank you for sponsoring my cannes debut

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saritaraman You dancing on hawa hawaii at cannes was the only thing left for me to see😭

⤷thekhushigupta all thanks to you babe <3

payaliyaa My babie sisterrrr 😍

⤷thekhushigupta jijiiiiii 😊

guptagarima Ae Khushi isko chalu kaise karte hai

versace It was our honour! 😍

aakash_r Amazing performance👌

shyamjha khushiji aapka koi boyfriend hai kya? 😭

divalavanya Bestie 💖

⤷thekhushigupta right back at ya! 💖

user1 i love the dressss

user2 just one chance khushi pls pls

user3 it was so cheap idk why ppl idolize u

⤷user1 get tf outta here

shyamjha hosh rubaa😍

nandiii khushi jiiiiii 💘

⤷thekhushigupta nanhe jiiiiii

nandiii

tagged: @/emirates @/anjaliiiii.r @/aakash_r

liked by aakash_r, anjaliiiii.r, gulabo_devyani, mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada, hari_prakash, hellohibyebye, thekhushigupta and 806 others

nandiii So excited to meet you guys!😭

view comments

anjaliiiii.r Pooja ki thaal tayyar hai NK Bhai

⤷gulabo_devyani Aapan. Ka. hi intezaar hai Bitwa.

mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada Return flight book karke nikle ho ki naahi?

⤷nandiii Now why would I do that Mausa Ji? 😊

thekhushigupta nanhe ji! iss baar aap mile bina nahi jaa sakte 😌

⤷nandiii Aapse hi toh milne aa rahe hai Khushi ji! It was fun to hangout with you while shooting in Portugal last year! 😊

hellohibyebye humre khaatir oo gucci peck kiye ki naahi?

⤷nandiii Maasi ji aapke liye toh chanel, gucci, versace sab haazir!

hari_prakash Ccooffee lenge?

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shyamjha commented on your post: hosh rubaa 😍

shyamjha commented on your post: khushiji aapka koi boyfriend hai kya? 😭

usershyam hume aap bohot pasand hai khushiji

iMessage

Khushi: he followed me back omgomgomg

Lavanya: ???

Khushi: ajgar

Khushi: arnav*

Lavanya: 😂😂

Lavanya: You didn't stop talking about him last night oh god

Khushi: i know ur friends were so pissed😭

Lavanya: Nooo, why would you thibk that

Lavanya: And look at you crushing so hard on ASR!

Khushi: you've met?

Lavanya: Briefly

Khushi: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Khushi: I'm gonna slide into his dms wish me luck

Lavanya: Khushi wtf

Lavanya: Khushi come back you son of a bitch

Lavanya: Istg Khushi pls don't make a fool of yourself in front of your new boss😭

Lavanya: Khushiii??????

seen

(1) message from thekhushigupta

thekhushigupta: hey

arnavsinghraizada: Hi?

thekhushigupta: we met the other day

arnavsinghraizada: Yeah, you bumped into me, how can I forget?

thekhushigupta: omg i'm really sorry for that😩

thekhushigupta: can i take you out for an apologetic dinner?

thekhushigupta: tonight?

arnavsinghraizada: Are you...

thekhushigupta: asking you out? yes

arnavsinghraizada liked a message

TBC

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[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 22

Inches In Between Us

Disclaimer: 18+, mature content.

I am warning my sweet readers if you are sensitive to this kinda stuff, I just want to say to you, "Don't proceed any further, I'll see you in next chapter, have a good day."

Darling, can I be your favourite?

I'll be your girl, let you taste it.

- ( The song of the chapter is "Favourite" by Isabel LaRosa.)

It's liberating how, outside the confines of the mafia world, she exists as an ordinary face in a sea of billions. Few people know her, fewer recognize her, and in this anonymity, she finds freedom.

At Paragon Tech's Christmas party, she's just another employee, laughing, chatting, and blending seamlessly into the crowd.

Her off-white knee-length dress sways gently with her every movement. The dress is simple yet elegant, cinched at the waist to highlight her figure, with delicate lace sleeves that add a touch of flare. It's a perfect contrast to the bold red lips she's chosen, a daring statement she rarely makes.

The party is in full swing, with twinkling lights, festive music, and a lavishly decorated Christmas tree at the centre of the room. She's enjoying herself, mostly.

This night could have been perfect if only the boss were here.

Not that she'd ever admit it, of course. Her colleagues wouldn't understand. They'd frown at her so-called unhealthy fascination with their employer, though "fascination" wasn't quite the word she'd use. Irritation, perhaps. Or Frustration.

And if he'd been here tonight, she would have found a way to needle him, just a little.

But he wasn't.

So, she keeps her composure, masking her thoughts behind polite smiles and meaningless small talk, all while pretending she's not scanning the room, hoping he'll walk in any second.

She lets out a soft laugh, humouring the colleague standing in front of her. His attempts at flirtation are clumsy, but there's an innocence to it that she can't help but appreciate. His black eyes shimmer with nervous excitement, his words tumbling out in stilted sentences as he tries to keep her attention.

It's sweet, really. Charming in a way that reminds her of an uncomplicated past, a time when life didn't feel so heavy.

She listens, nodding in the right places, even allowing a genuine smile or two to escape. The simplicity of it all, the lack of pretence, and the raw honesty in his demeanour are refreshing.

But it's not enough.

Sweet black eyes aren't what she craves.

She wants eyes like molten caramel, staring at her with an intensity that makes her forget to breathe. She wants a gaze that pins her in place, leaving her exposed and vulnerable, yet setting her on fire from the inside out.

And she knows exactly who those eyes belong to.

Her smile falters for a fraction of a second, a moment so brief the man in front of her doesn't notice. She pulls herself back, burying the ache beneath layers of practised indifference.

The colleague continues, oblivious, but her thoughts are already miles away, lost in a pair of fiery caramel-brown eyes that haunt her every waking moment.

"Are you flirting with random people now?" His voice is cold, cutting through the silence as he stands there, rigid and unforgiving, his gaze sharper than his words. "Or did you forget that you're actually engaged?"

No, he didn't just say that. What the hell!

She whirls around to face him.

Hurt and betrayed.

She's come upstairs to retrieve her things. His presence in the building is unknown to her.

"What does it matter to you? I'm not engaged to you."

Something shifts in his eyes as he strides toward her. Her instincts scream at her to retreat. She does, step by step, until her back collides with the glass wall behind her. The cold surface seeps through her dress, but it's nothing compared to the icy fire in his gaze.

Drawing air into her chest becomes utterly difficult as he stops mere inches from her. Her heart races.

Because of his closeness,

Because of his unexplained anger,

the fact that she is trapped and she isn't getting out unless he chooses to let her go.

Her palms are about to make contact with his chest to push him away, to create even the smallest distance between them, but his hand catches her wrist mid-air.

Anger surges through her, heating her cheeks as she tries to wrench her arm free, twisting and pulling with all her might. But his grip is unyielding, calm, and maddeningly firm.

"Let me go," she hisses, struggling against him.

He doesn't. Instead, he moves her wrists effortlessly above her head, pinning them against the glass. Her body arches instinctively, her chest brushing against his with every shallow inhale.

And because she can do nothing else, she growls in a low and feral voice, "I hate you. How dare you?"

And just like the strike of a match, she feels as if something else sparks to life.

"You blushed for him,'' his voice barely above a whisper, soft and devastating, underlined with the slightest clench of teeth."Do you have any idea what that does to me?"

Her breathing falters, picking up pace as her pulse races wildly.

His gaze slides over her, slow and torturous, from her eyes to her lips, to the rise and fall of her chest. Her nipples harden, dragging along his hard chest with every laboured breath she takes.

Goosebumps break through her as his nose skims through her cheek. "Oh, little bird, you shouldn't have done that."

The anger in her battles against the molten warmth pooling low in her belly. A tremble racks her body as he presses his face into the curve of her neck and inhales deeply, inhales her.

The sound that escapes his throat is a deep, guttural rumble of satisfaction. It vibrates through her, leaving her knees weak and thrums between her legs. Her head tips back instinctively to bare more of her neck to the devastation as Sandalwood, cloves, leather and a hint of something uniquely him, wrap around her.

She's delirious, drunk on his nearness, his heat, his nose gliding into the soft skin of her neck.

Addictive, it is. His nearness is.

Always addictive.

Her body is on fire, and it spreads, engulfing her mind and her heart, turning her inside into lava. And there will be no reprieve until he gives her, Something. Anything. Everything.

He holds both of her wrists in one hand while his other hand slides from her wrist to her throat, his thick fingers wrapping around her delicate neck. Taking one more step, he presses his front fully against hers until they are flushed with one another.

She sucks in a sharp breath as his hips cage hers, his desire impossible to ignore. The heat of him, the sheer size, leaves her gasping.

Her mind screams at her to fight, to pull away, to keep the distance she knows is safest. But her body betrays her, responding to him in ways she can't control. She's drowning in him, in the way he makes her feel both powerful and powerless, both in control and completely at a loss.

It's his game of Control, she realises. And she suddenly knows this is a game she wants to play with everything in her.

He releases her wrists but doesn't let go of her neck. His thumb slowly traces her jaw while his hand holds the back of her neck still, keeping her head tilted back and their eyes locked. His other hand slides down, gliding along her spine before settling in her lower back.

His caramel-brown eyes are the darkest. The pupils bleed into the rich brown, swallowing the light like a storm. But beneath the rage, there's a flicker of raw and primal hunger.

Bright and all-consuming.

He blinks as if to clear his head yet he keeps watching her with hooded eyes like she's his next meal.

Fuck. He is obsessed with her or something. Who the fuck reacts like that over a blush?!

Whatever it is, obsession or not, it's like an invisible rope pulling her closer even as she tries to resist.

"What's the deal with you? You like me or something?" Her voice weavers as the words slip past her lips.

"Like?" The corner of his mouth lifts

in a cruel smirk. "Don't know if I'd call it that."

"What would you call it then? Obsession? You're obsessed with me, huh?'' She can't help but goad him, but deep down she is scared, so damn scared.

"Does that scare you?" He asks as if reading her mind.

She gives him a dry look of denial, but her body betrays her. She gulps as heat pools in places it shouldn't.

His smirk deepens, the darkness in his eyes glinting dangerously. A rasp curls through his voice. "Good".

She's hyperaware of everything, the frantic thrum of her heart, the tick of the clock somewhere in the distance, the way his heart is beating too fast against her as if it's beating inside her rib cage.

"You've been in my head, little bird..'' His lips skim the corner of her mouth. "More than you should have been. More than I should have let you. More than your pathetic crush tonight could ever imagine."

Her fingers clutching her dress fabric in an attempt to prevent her from reaching for him when his voice slides over her like velvet and smoke.

"I've thought about you so much..''

The words graze her ear alongside his lips, his hot breaths are as intoxicating as his words. His stubble brushes against her soft skin, leaving behind a trail of ruin and fire.

"So fucking much that...every part of you becomes mine."

Her breathing stops entirely and all she hears mine, mine, mine.

The hell she is!!

She is no one's!!

"He's lucky he didn't touch you,'' he continues, his voice turning razor-sharp. "Because I don't take kindly to people touching what's mine."

Her throat tightens, causing her heart to struggle against her ribcage, trying to get free. "Who touches me is none of your business."

His voice a low, dangerous rumble.

"It's always been my business.''

Anger flares within her, overriding the

heat clouding her judgment. ''I am nobody's business. I don't even like you. Let go of me."

His smirk returns, cruel and devastating. "You don't have to like me to scream my name."

And then his voice drops to a sinful murmur. "You know my name, don't you, little bird?" When she doesn't reply, he taunts her, "Or, have you forgotten yours as well? I have merely touched you. "

Her fists curls at her sides. "Oh, I remember plenty, Mr.Raizada." she seethes, glaring up at him. "But it seems you've forgotten something. You despise me. Remember?''

His eyes ablaze, something primal and wicked lurking beneath the surface, as he leans in.

"That's the thing....I don't just despise you. I also want to rip this little dress of yours right here in the middle of this office.....strip you naked.."

White noise rings in her ear as his words sink in. "And then press you against the glass for the whole city to see."

Voice nothing but a dangerous, sinful whisper, corrupting her mind, creating images.

"While I kiss every square inch of your body..and then pound into you so hard that the people driving below can't look away.....wishing they were us."

The heat in his gaze scorches her, burning her resolve to ashes. Her lips part but no sound escapes as her body frozen in place.

"That'll probably be a bad idea, right?" His smirk grows, self-assured and maddeningly smug.

"Keep dreaming,'' she whispers, tethering at the end of sanity, refusing to give up.

"Oh, I do," His chuckle is dark, and wickedly intimate, tinted with a sardonic edge.

"I fuck you in my dreams every night." The hand on her back dips lower, brushing against her ass, and she stiffens.

"And that's why you're able to stand here...and fight with me...because if I fuck you for real, Little bird," His gaze locks onto hers with the weight of a promise, ''You won't be walking straight for days."

Damn, his mouth. It should be illegal.

Her heart flutters in her chest, a frenzied rhythm she can't control as his face hovers inches from hers. His breath is warm, brushing against her lips, and she feels the pull, the intoxicating inevitability of his lips meeting hers. Her own part slightly, as though inviting him to close the sliver of space between them.

Her eyes drift close. Every nerve in her body goes taut, coiled like a spring on the edge of snapping, trembling with a raw, unspoken need.

And then, the shrill of a ringtone breaks the moment like a glass.

His jaw tightens as he fishes his phone from his pocket.

Aman!!

What the hell!?!

With a growl, he answers. "This better be good. Otherwise, I'll kill you, motherfucker."

Even as he listens to Aman on the other end, his eyes never leave hers.

She can barely hear Aman's muffled voice over the blood rushing in her ears, but whatever Aman says seems to pull him back.

He sighs sharply, swiping a hand through his hair before lowering the phone. For a moment, he doesn't move, just stares at her. Then, without a word, he turns and strides toward the door, pausing just before leaving. "This conversation isn't over."

Her trembling hands rise to press against her flushed cheeks as her lips tingle from the almost kiss that never happened.

"What the hell just happened?" she whispers, the words slipping out like a secret she doesn't want the room to keep.

But the truth shimmering beneath the surface is simplier.

But infinitely more terrifying.

She squeezes her eyes tightly as if that could steady the storm inside, but it's no use because now, there's no going back.

What the fuck will she do now?

The room is quiet, save for the faint hum of the city beyond the glass windows. The chaos of her mind contrasts sharply with the stillness around her.

The air feels heavier as she sits on the edge of the leather couch of his office.

With her body tense.

And her mind racing.

And her foot bare as her heels lay idle on the floor.

She waits.

For him.

She doesn't know why she stays, doesn't want to acknowledge the ache inside her chest and her body demanding that she does.

It's mindlessly foolish and reckless, but she waits anyway.

The desire to resist is drowned by the need to give in.

Her fingers trace the seam of her dress absently, trying to distract herself from the way her heart thunders every time she imagines the sound of his footsteps outside the door. She bites her lip, feeling the heat creep up her cheeks again at the memory of his body so close to hers, the words she can't seem to forget.

And she knows, somehow, some way, he'll know she's here. Just like he knew she blushed for another man. He always knows everything about her, her thoughts, her reactions, as if her soul is laid bare before him. It should terrify her. But today she's lost her perception of sanity and insanity.

The door creaks open, and she straightens instinctively. He stands in the doorway, framed by the dim, golden light spilling from the corridor. For a fleeting moment, she forgets how to breathe.

"Still here." His tone holds no surprise, just the quiet certainty that she didn't leave. That she couldn't.

She rises slowly, her knees trembling slightly. Turning to face him feels impossible. All her life, she has followed rules, lived by them like a creed. But he's the first rule she wants to break without thinking about any consequences.

"You said the conversation wasn't over," she says softly, the words catching slightly in her throat.

He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. The soft click echoes like the snap of a trap closing around its prey.

Tossing his folded coat onto a nearby chair, he moves with unhurried pace, the sleeves of his white shirt already rolled to his elbows. "How do you want to end that conversation?"

Words fail her, as they always do in his presence. But she hopes her eyes speak louder than the silence stretching between them.

She needs him.

The thought is raw, unrelenting, an ache that drowns out reasons, eclipses logic, silencing the warnings in her head..More than water, more than air, she needs him.

And she's done pretending she doesn't.

Even though she doesn't know if she is ready for someone like him. Even though she is scared shitless.

Everything is very new to her. But the yearning to be brave outweighs the fear. She wants to be bold with him, for him, and maybe even for herself.

He studies her as he loosens his tie, with a cruel slowness that unravels her composure. She lowers her gaze, unable to hold the weight of his stare any longer.

He stands behind her and lingers there almost as if offering her an unspoken chance to escape. But before the thought can take root, his hand finds her stomach. Warm, steady.

She sucks in a sharp breath as he draws her back, her spine meeting the solid warmth of his chest.

His touch is a claim and a betrayal of the walls she's tried to keep intact.

Guiding her backwards, he sinks into the chair, drawing her down with him until she's perched on his lap, her back pressed against his front.

Her body tenses briefly before melting into him. Her heart pounds so loudly she's sure he can hear it, but if he does, he says nothing.

"Don't offer your body to me unless you're ready, Little bird," he murmurs, "I don't do the gentleman shit. If we do this, I won't stop...even if you beg me to."

A warning laced with a promise.

"If we do this, if I fuck you, I'll make sure no one else will after me.... Never. Are you ready for that?"

The weight of his words settles over her, demanding an answer she's too terrified yet too eager to give.

"I don't know," she whispers honestly, her voice barely audible. But deep down, she does know. She always has. She'll eagerly let him ruin her for anybody else.

"Hmm...Let's see how far I can go today then. Will you let me taste you?"

Before she can answer his lips descend to her neck, sucking softly at first, then harder, leaving behind a trail of fire that shoots straight between her legs.

His fingers trace slow circles against her stomach while his other hand gathers her hair in his fist, tugging sharply, making her head tilt back.

Her gaze meets his and she sees the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes. It mirrors the ache building inside her, threatening to consume her whole.

"When I ask you a question, you give me an answer." His hold tightens in her hair, further exposing her throat to him, leaving her utterly at his mercy.

She swallows hard, her lips parting to reply, but no words come. Instead, she nods frantically and leans into him. Her hands clutch his thighs like he's the only solid thing in her crumbling world.

And maybe, just maybe, he is.

Her eyes fly open when his rough voice rumbles in her ear, "Are you wet for me, little bird?"

A groan is all the answer he receives but it's enough for him to know what it means.

"You are, aren't you?" he whispers in her ear before taking her earlobe between his teeth and slightly pulling on it. "...you like it when I talk dirty to you, huh?"

"N-No..." she denies softly but neither of them is fooled.

"No need to lie, Bitterheart. You are all innocent on the outside...but inside there's a dirty little girl just waiting to be unleashed." There's no way she'll agree with him. Not verbally, at least. No matter how right she unfortunately knows he is.

"Are you a dirty little girl, Khushi?" He chuckles when, once more, she vainly shakes her head.

"N-No, I'm not..."

"We'll see," he says, causing her to shiver, although she doesn't know if it's because of his words or the way he calls her by her name or the fact that his hands were now trailing down her thighs, barely stopping at the hem of the dress she's wearing. "For now I need an answer...are you wet for me?"

Anger surges through her, as pride battles with the ache in between her legs. A string of curses formed in her head, each one aimed at him but none daring to cross her lips. Instead, she jerks away as humiliation and shame dripping from every part of her.

"Shhh...now be a good girl and let me find out," he orders as he feels her trying to wiggle out of his grip.

She gasps as his hand gathers the hem of her dress, the fabric gliding up her thighs until it pools around her waist.

His fingers find the edge of her black lace panties as he hooks a finger under the delicate fabric, slipping them down her legs.

The heady scent of her arousal fills the room making her head spin. When one of his large hands captures her tiny one, she's too dazed to question it, too consumed to resist.

Her fingers laced with his brush against her soft mound. "Hmm, look how perfect you are..." he says upon discovering her bare sex. But before she can come up with a good retort for him, their fingers slides into her moist slit, and she finds herself unable to think coherently anymore.

Together, they stroke her very drenched, very slick folds. And then without warning, he plunges their intertwined fingers into her core, and they both hear the wet sound of her obvious arousal. Heat rushes to her cheeks. "Yeah, so fucking wet..."

His triumphant tone makes her want to turn around and smack him, but yet again he renders her speechless as he lifts her trembling hand and wraps his lips around her finger, the same one that has been inside her few seconds ago. His tongue swirls around her sensitive skin as he softly sucks on it.

"I should have known you'd taste this perfect as well," his voice a rough rasp, causing a new wave of wetness to gather in her core.

A feral growl rumbles deep in his chest as two of his thick, calloused fingers plunge inside her slick heat.

At the same time.

All the way to the knuckles.

She cries out, her back arching as pleasure explodes through her. She clings to his wrist as her nails digs into his skin. Her body tightens around his fingers like a vice. Her toes curl as a whole-body shudder grips her.

"Look at that?" Her world narrows to his fingers sliding in and out of her core, ruthlessly, mercilessly, while his dark eyes watch her every reaction, every tremor. "...you're so hot inside..," he continues, making her blush ten shades of red before his wickedly satisfied eyes. "My fingers aren't enough for you, are they?" He punctuates each word with a rough thrust of his fingers.

The heat in her core builds to an unbearable peak. She can't answer, not even from a word, not when his fingers press deeper, curling in a way that leaves her trembling, stroking a part of her no one has touched before.

"Too bad you aren't ready, it would have been so much better if it were my cock instead..filling you up, stretching you wide. ''

"Oh..." she moans out as he murmurs the words at her ear. At the same time, he starts to steadily pump his finger in and out of her depths.

The image his words paint ignites something primal in her. Her hips move in time with his hand, chasing the pleasure he so mercilessly teases her with.

She doesn't even care about the incoherent noises that spill out of her. But every time she bucks her hips, he tightens his hold on her hair, warning her without words that he is the one who is in control here.

He's a man who takes what he wants and there's something incredibly erotic and arousing about it.

He's going to take, take and take some more. Meanwhile all she can do is give.

And also, damn him and his filthy mouth for whispering all those dirty shits to her ear. Making her wetter, burning her fiercer.

"You like that word?...Cock..." he whispers lewdly when once more he notices her reaction to his dirty words. "Don't worry, soon, you'll see and feel more of my cock than you could have ever dreamed of..." Another promise and she can't help the shivers that coursed up her spine.

"Oh, God..."

She's never thought those dirty words would sound such devastatingly arousing coming from his mouth, utter in his raspy, deep voice.

"Well, that's not my name, but it'll do for now." He drawls in a sultry voice. His other hand let go of her hair to slide up beneath her dress and cups her breast, his fingers squeezing just enough to make her gasp. His fingers shove the top of her bra and pinch her nipple. "Next time, you'll let my cock spread you open, won't you, little bird?"

She nods helplessly, biting her lip to keep from crying out. His fingers thrust deep once again, sending a shockwave of pleasure through her.

"Of course, you will,'' he chuckles low in her ear, dropping moist kisses down her neck, sucking enough to leave marks, "You are so greedy." His teeth grazing her skin. "I need to hear you say it. Tell me....tell me you need my cock inside you."

Shut that illegal mouth, Raizada.

A flush of heat spreads through her, her

entire body trembling with need. "Please," she manages to gasp, her

voice shaky and desperate as she tries to push her hips up seeking more.

"Tsk, tsk...please what?" His fingers lazily move inside her and she burns. It's not enough. She glares at him for this torture, but all he does is raise an eyebrow at her in a challenge.

"I want it'' she gritts out, the words tumbling out unbidden. "I want your cock.....oh..fuck.."

She can't finish as he rewards her with another deep thrust of his fingers. He chuckles at the sound that comes out of her mouth when his thumb finds her clit, and he starts to work it in sync with the movements of the rest of his fingers. She bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, desperate to hold onto the last shred of her sanity, but it's slipping fast.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice is like molten sin.

He pumps his fingers even faster into her drenched core when her already tight walls pulse around his fingers. She feels herself so close to the edge, she can practically taste it, cringing briefly as she hears the squishing sounds of his fingers moving in and out of her. Considering she is so wet, he has absolutely no trouble whatsoever driving them in and out of her.

But she can't focus on that anymore as a sharp pain rushes though her, only replaced by a mind-numbing pleasure. She realises he's drove in a third finger, stretching her to full capacity.

It becomes impossible to breathe but she forces herself to take it, gasping with each in and out until stars dance behind her eyelids and her world fractures into shards of light, each one brighter than the last.

His mouth sucks into her pulse point and she feels his teeth sink into her skin while she comes undone, groaning out gibberish words.

But even as she trembles in the aftermath, he doesn't stop, his fingers still kept sliding in and out of her.

"Next time, it'll be my cock making you come like this. I'll fuck every boy you ever thought about out of your head..... out of your system until all you remember is my name."

His promise sends another shudder through her. Her body feels foreign as if it doesn't belong to her anymore. It reacts to his every move, every whisper, every flick of his fingers like he's found a hidden language only he knows how to speak.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined an orgasm would be like that. So consuming, so powerful that she would be on the edge of blacking out.

Maybe because, it was her first.

His fingers slip from her, and the loss makes her whimper. She leans against him as she takes deep, calming breaths until, she hears him moan in satisfaction.

Turning her head slightly to her side to see what is causing him to make such a sound, she can't help gasping in an audible breath when she realizes this shameless man has his finger drenched with her juices in his mouth. His gaze locks onto hers as he licks them clean. "You aren't as experienced as you want me to believe. Was that a first?"

She's too boneless, her body's too limp against him to even respond. So she let him have his moment.

She barely has time to catch her breath before he stands, lifting her as though she weighs nothing. In one fluid motion, he sets her down on the edge of his massive desk.

The cold glass pressing against the heated skin of her ass draws a startled yelp from her lips. Before she can process the sensation, his hands are on her again, spreading her knees wide and positioning her exactly how he wants her.

Her palms are pressed flat against the desk behind her for balance. The action makes her breasts to thrust forward in his face. A deep flush spreads across her cheeks as she finds herself in this wanton position, baring herself to him.

So shamelessly.

So carnally.

So completely.

His fingers graze the inside of her thighs as he settles into the chair before her and drags her even closer to the edge of the desk.

And then he dips his head, licking her from her entrance to her clit. And the world around her dissolves. The growl of satisfaction vibrates through her and she's already fighting an orgasm. He runs a rough hand down her leg pulling her thigh over his shoulder.

She feels a new rush of wetness that he obviously immediately notices. "Look at the mess you've created," he instantly lapped at the new moisture. His hands grip her thighs, holding her open as his tongue flicks against her, teasing, tasting, torturing.

Consumed by overwhelming sensation, she runs a hand into his hair, grabbing a handful and moving her hips at the same time, trying to keep his head still and fixed to where she needs it the most. He removes her hands the first time, but her fingers find his hair again. He lets her hold his hair and control the movement for only a second before he bites at her inner thigh. A sharp gasp escapes her as she jerks back. A jolt of pain radiates from that spot and settles in her already aching core.

His narrowed caremal-browns find her pissed hazels. "Behave."

She shoots him a nasty glare, gatekeeping all the profanities that have his name written on them.

"Go ahead...say it."

So she does.

"You're an insufferable asshole"

The sharp smack in between her legs catches her off guard, but her teeth dig into her lips so hard she's surprised she hasn't drawn any blood, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a whimper, not even a sound.

Fuck!?!

"Anything else?"

She stiffly shakes her head while giving him a withering look.

''Good," he murmurs lazily, going back to sucking at her clit. It still throbs with pain, but the wet heat of his mouth is electrifying, turning her pain into fire.

Mortified at his words and what he is doing to her, she closes her eyes once more and grips the edge of the desk with all her might, promising herself that if she has to endure this, at least she won't reach for him this time or show him just how sinfully incredible it's making her feel.

Another flick of his tongue against her soaked entrance makes her forget all about it anyway, and she feels tears gather behind her eyelids as she forces herself to not cry out her pleasure.

God, he's really good at this and she just knows that it won't take him long to make her fall completely apart once more.

She's proven right just seconds later when she feels his fingers probe into her again and he's now free to go and nibble on her clit. The moment he does, stars burst behind her eyelids and this time, no amount of sheer willpower can stop her from moaning out loud.

"FFUUCK...."

Her eyes roll back in her head as her back arches off the table. Meanwhile he keeps pumping faster, sucking harder, until she can't control herself and is quite shamelessly riding his face with about just as much force as she has been riding his fingers earlier. Soft mewls spill from her lips alongside unintelligible pleas.

"Name," he commands, pulling back just enough to speak, his voice barely penetrates her mind haze. "Say my name."

He growls the words inside her as her body writhes helplessly under his hold, the pressure building so fiercely she feels like she might shatter.

"Say it,"

"Umm.. Mr. Raizada,'' she gasps. Her voice trembles as her hands gripping the desk as if her life depends on it.

A rough hand slides up her stomach squeezing her breast hard enough to draw a startled cry from her lips. In an instant, he's grabbing her throat, yanking her upright so her wide eyes meet his. His eyes are wild and feral, with her arousal glistening on his lips as he speaks through a clenched jaw, "Name."

A tear rolled down her cheek as she's denied her pleasure and she realizes that every part of her burned so much at that instant that it quite literally hurt. Her pride stops her from cursing him audibly though, or even just uttering a word of protest. So she complies.

"Arnav." she spits out even though her voice shakes as his name passes her lips.

His lips curl in satisfaction as he flicks her clit with his finger, her hips rocking involuntarily against him.

"Remember it. After all, It's the name you'll be screaming for the rest of your life."

The moment his hand leaves her neck, he dives back in, his mouth reclaiming her with a ferocity that leaves no room for resistance, no room for doubt.

The urge to touch him is overwhelming, but she knows he'll stop if she dares touch his precious hair again. So, she places one of her hands over his on her thigh, intertwined their fingers together, and, lost in pure, unfiltered and unadulterated lust, tugs at her own hair with the other.

Sparks ignite into an inferno, burning hotter with every stroke, every flick of his tongue. Then she soars higher and higher, until crashing into an eruption of pleasure and pain.

His teeth nip at her clit, causing her walls to contract almost painfully. He finds a secret spot inside that causes her eyes to fly open and then her body convulses in response. He must feel it too, because he hits it again and again. Her ears ring, pulling all sounds underwater as the heat inside her burst. Her body shatters like glass under the weight of a thousand suns.

"Aaaa...arnav," she screams out another orgasm even more powerful than the one she hasn't even really come down from.

His name falls from her lips like a prayer as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.

He doesn't stop though, his mouth relentless as he pulls every last tremor from her body, his hands keeping her in place when she tries to pull away. Only when she's completely undone does he finally pulls his fingers and his mouth out of her still unbearably pulsating sex and her inside mourns the loss instantly.

Her eyes fluttered open to find his on her. His breathing is uneven and his gaze is filled with something soft yet dark that she isn't sure she wants to understand, but it's enough to make her core spasm some more.

"You taste even better when you're screaming my name.''

She sits there, perched on the edge of his desk, her legs still parted to accommodate him as he stands between them. The air is thick with the aftermath of what just happened.

She can feel the ache between her thighs, a sweet pulsing reminder of how he ravished her. But now, his gaze makes her feel small, vulnerable.

Her fingers fidget with the edge of his tie, the silk cool against her fingertips. She dares not look up, her eyes fixed on the silver of skin peaking from the top opening of his dress shirt.

''Umm.. show me what to do," she murmurs. Her cheeks flush, the embarrassment rushing through her as quickly as the desire to give something back to him, to make him feel the way he made her feel.

Till date she owes him her life.

After tonight she owes him two orgasm as well.

She swears she can feel the smirk tugging at his lips even though she doesn't dare meet his eyes. Then, he surprises her. Instead of teasing or demanding, he presses his lips softly to the side of her head, his hand tugging the fabric of her dress back into place and smoothing her dishevelled hair over her shoulder.

"Go home, Little bird. I don't have time to fuck you tonight. I have people to kill," he says, his voice softer than she expects, a strange tenderness threading through his usual commanding tone.

She would never admit it, but a part of her secretly loves it when he calls her 'Little bird'. The way the words roll off his tongue, equal parts endearment and possession, sends a shiver down her spine every time. It makes her feel small and fierce all at once like she's his to protect and his to cage.

His eyes are alight with mirth when they meet hers, and she's somehow glad she didn't do it tonight. She surely won't want her first time to happen on an office desk. And she's equal part terrified of the fact that he knows her body better than herself.

Slowly, she slides off the desk. Her thighs ache, a sweet soreness that makes her wince slightly as she finds her footing. She almost stumbles, and his hands are there immediately, steadying her.

She reaches out, wrapping her hand in his tie, and does what she has always wanted to do. Tug on it to bring his face closer to her. She doesn't kiss him on the lips as she remembers the words he told her that night. Instead, she places her lips on his cheek, firm enough for her red lipstick to leave a mark.

A silent 'thank you' though for what exactly, she isn't sure.

His touch? His restraint? His care?

Picking up her heels from the floor, she reaches the door, her hand hesitates on the handle. A strange pull makes her turn back, and the sight of him nearly takes her breath away.

He stands there, his hands tucked into his pockets while his tie hangs loose around his neck. The crisp white of his dress shirt is rumpled, so is his hair, tousled from where her fingers have gripped it in desperation.

But it's his eyes that undo her completely. They're dark, yet soft and they're looking at her like she's the most beautiful, most precious thing he's ever seen in his life.

It terrifies her.

She quickly looks away, fumbling with the door before slipping out, her heart hammering in her chest. As she walks down the hallway, her legs still shaky, she tries to make sense of the chaos in her mind...the tenderness, the possession, the hunger, and now, that look.

But she pushes all those thoughts to the back of her mind as she walks away, leaving behind a bold red lipstick mark on his cheek and a black lacy panty abandoned on his office floor.

Author's note:

Happy Holidays everybody.

<previous> | <next>

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @chaiandtakkar @bigfatreader @9artsdragon

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 25 ( final)

DISCLAIMER: The story is set in the early 20th century. While I have made efforts to capture the essence of the era, there may be inaccuracies as this is a work of fantasy. I do not own the characters Arnav and Khushi, and this story is purely fictional with no relation to any real individuals, living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

WARNING: 18+, MATURE CONTENT.

Final Chapter

Three years later.

It was the eve of Diwali, the festival of lights. The Rajput haveli was a vision of grandeur and festivity this evening. The entire estate was adorned with intricate decorations. Strings of twinkling fairy lights draped over every window and doorway and vibrant rangoli patterns were meticulously crafted at the entrance. Rows of gleaming diyas, their soft flickering flames casting a warm, golden glow, lined the pathways and courtyards, creating a serene and enchanting ambience. The air was filled with the scent of freshly made sweets and the sounds of laughter and celebration, as the household came alive with the spirit of joy and togetherness.

Arnav and Khushi had been celebrating their Dewalis with the Rajput family instead of their own Haveli, which they had finally managed to build according to their own taste. It was especially Khushi's touch that could be seen in every corner of the new Raizada state. Though they had a beautiful house of their own, they very much enjoyed spending their Dewalis with the Rajputs. Because, all of their near and dear ones were here and with Mahindar and Manorama's advancing age, they wanted to celebrate the festivals surrounded by all of their children.

"Oh shit."

Arnav hurriedly entered the room and locked the door behind him. Khushi was in the midst of getting ready. was adjusting a delicate gold necklace around her neck. She had styled her dark hair elegantly in loose waves that had gone perfectly with the stunning deep red sari, she had worn. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of concern as she looked up from her reflection.

"What happened?"

"The string of my trousers just snapped. Did you bring a spare?" Arnav replied, noticing how gorgeous she looked.

"Let me see."

As Khushi proceeded to see Arnav's broken trouser string, a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

"Aren't you a bit too eager to see my treasures, Mrs. Raizada?"

Rolling her eyes at his antics, she said, "Take it off."

"As you wish."

Arnav grabbed her waist, gently placing her on the desk in her room. The old desk was not that big, leaving her back pressed against the wall. He moved to stand between her legs, gently pushing them apart.

"What are you doing?" she whispered yelled as his hands slid up her thighs. He wrapped one of his hands around her waist, pulling her a little closer, while he put the other hand against the wall, above her head.

"Nothing, just testing how sturdy the desk is," he said leaning closer to her. A playful smirk curled on the corners of his lips.

"Arnav, everyone is waiting for us downstairs."

"A few more minutes won't hurt them," he said, capturing her lips in a teasing kiss while his hands gathered her saree around her waist. He touched her in between her legs, finding her already eager for him.

"Ap aise nahi kar sakte," she whispered, biting her lips.

"Kyun nahi kar sakta? Biwi ho tum meri, my legally wedded wife." A soft whimper escaped her lips, as he pushed his fingers in between her nether lips. "And look at you," he murmured, "....already so ready for me. The idea of us on this desk excites you, huh?"

Khushi swatted his shoulder lightly and smiled, her eyes full of mirth. "Shut up."

"Make me."

In the past few years, so much had changed. What hadn't was the undeniable pull between them. Despite the upheavals in many aspects of their lives, there they were, still wrapped up in their own little world.

He looked devastatingly handsome, as always-nothing special in that. But the navy blue kurta he wore today made his eyes stand out even more, and they were now focused on Khushi, brimming with mirth.

Khushi clutched his collars and pulled him close as she fused their lips together, successfully wiping off the teasing grin on his face. Meanwhile, Arnav got rid of his trousers and entered her in a swift motion. Both of them moaned softly, their pleasure barely contained. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. Her back arched slightly while she adjusted to him. His lips travelled down her neck alternately sucking and kissing her soft supple skin. Her head fell back, eyes fluttered shut.

"Don't leave marks. It would be very awkward in front of the relatives." The desk beneath her creaked softly as he began to move.

"Shhh... I won't... at least not where everyone can see." He whispered, lightly sucking behind her ear.

Their rhythm grew frantic. They tried desperately to muffle their moans, as he pounded repeatedly into her. He then realized they were making lots of noises.

"Shit, your bangles.''

"Huh..?" When Arnav saw his wife completely blissed out and lost in the sensation. He just shrugged his shoulder and went back to his previous activities. Soon, their moans mingled in each other's necks as they finished together.

Both were breathing heavily. Khushi cradled her face against his shoulder, her fingers gently playing with his hair. While Arnav tried to catch his breath by resting his head on her neck. A sudden knock on the door startled them. Instead of pushing him away, Khushi clutched his neck even tighter, holding him close. Akash Bhai's voice came through the door.

"Khushi?"

Regaining her composure, Khushi answered in a shaky voice, "Haan, Bhai?" Her body froze in place.

"Where's Arnav? Hasn't he come yet? Bareilly wale Fufaji usko kabse dhoond rahe hain."

"Hume nahi pata, Bhai. Humne unko nahi dekha."

Khushi noticed her husband's shoulders shaking lightly. She cast a glare at his shoulders as if willing them to stop.

"Theek hain, main dekhta hoon. Tum jaldi tayaar hoke niche aao."

As Akash Bhai's footsteps faded, Arnav couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. He looked back at his wife, his amusement contagious. Khushi tried to give him a stern look but ended up laughing along with him, playfully swatting his chest. Arnav gazed at her affectionately before capturing her lips with his.

As much as he loved to kiss her whimpering lips, he loved kissing her smiling ones even more.

After freshening up, Arnav headed downstairs. As soon as he reached the bottom, two little bodies collided with him, and he effortlessly scooped them up into his arms. Three-year-old Akansha, a spitting image of Anjali as a child, brought back memories of his sister's younger days, while five-year-old Ajit, a perfect blend of Akash and Payal. They grinned up at him. Arnav settled into a nearby lounge chair, both children comfortably perched on his lap.

Little Akansha said in her baby voice, "Mamaji, thank you for the gift. Ma said me to thank you." She placed a tiny kiss on his cheek.

Not to be outdone, little Ajit mimicked her. "Ha, Mamaji, thank you."

Akansha quickly turned to him, frowning. "Arre, buddhu, wo sirf mere Mamaji hain. Tumhare nehi."

"He isn't your Mamaji either," Khushi chided little Akansha lovingly. "Remember what I told you? When you go to our house, you'll call him Mamaji. But when we come here, you have to call him Fufaji."

Arnav scrunched his nose in response, "Don't confuse the children, Khushi." Then, turning back to them, he added, "Why don't both of you just call me Uncle, okay?"

Both of them nodded and sprinted off to play in the courtyard.

Meanwhile, two pairs of brown eyes eagerly awaited their turn on his lap. As soon as it was vacant, they climbed onto each of his thighs. A sweet, confused voice asked, "Daddy, do we need to call you that too?"

"Oh, no, I've worked too hard for you to ever call me that."

"Well, your daddy was very close to being called 'Uncle' by my children once upon a time," Khushi said, lightly touching the little girl's nose.

Arnav cast her a mock glare and mouthed soundlessly, "How dare you?" In response, Khushi just laughed.

While little Ayushi snuggled against her father's neck, little Kush played with his toy, absorbed in his own world. Roma Chachi had remarked aptly that Khushi had indeed given birth to their own reflections, as the three-year-old twins were perfect mirrors of their parents.

While little Ayushi was a bit clingy and voiced her need for attention, little Kush was more reserved. Arnav saw himself in Kush more and more as the days went by. Though Kush didn't seek attention outwardly, inside he was just as eager for snuggles and cuddles as his sister. Even if he pretended otherwise, he desired the same affection. So, Arnav made sure to give both children equal attention. And in some cases, he made an extra effort to give affection to Kush while he was still open to it. Because, As Kush grew up, Arnav knew his little boy might not appreciate his father hugging him as much as his daughter might. It's just a man-code.

Arnav pulled little Ayushi closer, planting a kiss on her head, while he affectionately rubbed his son's back. Khushi watched them with a soft smile, her heart swelling with warmth and tenderness. It had been three years since their birth, and Khushi had been pestering Arnav for another child, but he kept refusing. Their birth had traumatized him enough. Arnav till date clearly remembered and almost felt the panic that he had gone through that night.

He had arranged for the best midwife in the area and had called a trained nurse from the missionary hospital for the delivery. The doctor had come as well and assured him that everything was alright and that the birth would proceed naturally. And there he was, pacing in front of the room where Khushi had been for two hours-two hours of listening to her whimpering and screaming in pain. Arnav was just minutes away from asking Hariprakash to fetch the doctor again when a deafening cry of a newborn pierced the air.

A joyous shout of Roma Chachi came from inside, "It's a boy!"

A few moments later, Roma Chachi emerged from the room with a little crying bundle and approached Arnav. But at the same time, another scream from Khushi nearly stopped his heartbeat. Roma Chachi tried to pass the baby to Arnav, but he grabbed her upper arms and asked urgently, "What's happening inside? How's Khushi?"

A hushed whisper circulated among the women in the room who had come to assist with the birth, noting Mr. Raizada's reluctance to take the baby in his arms. Roma Chachi looked around, guessing how the situation must appear, and spoke to Arnav in a hushed voice.

"Take your son, Arnav. Khushi will be alright."

Chastised by his mother-in-law, Arnav looked at the baby, who had stopped crying and was now gazing at him with wide eyes. He took the baby in his arms and sat on a sofa in the corridor. The baby's little body squirmed in the palm of his hand. Father and son stared at each other for quite some time. An overwhelming sense of protectiveness washed over him, though he couldn't exactly name the other emotions coursing through him. He just kissed the baby boy's forehead lightly and spoke softly as if the baby would clearly understand his words, "I'm not mad at you. I'm just scared."

A little while later, Anjali took the baby from Arnav while Khushi's screams continued to echo from the room, driving him to the brink of madness. He asked Hariprakash to fetch the doctor and also asked Anjali to go inside and see what was happening. Suddenly, the screaming stopped, and Arnav's heart pounded at the sudden silence. Roma Chachi emerged with another bundle, her face radiant with a brilliant smile. "There was another baby-a girl. It's a little Khushi."

Arnav placed his hand on the baby's head and asked, "How's she?"

"She will be okay, Arnav," Roma Chachi reassured him and transferred the baby to Arnav. He felt her snuggle into him as he placed a soft kiss on her crown. Since then, Little Ayushi never missed a chance to snuggle into her father's arm.

When everybody went home and the babies were settled with Anjali and Payal in the next room. Roma Chachi decided to sleep in the room, attached to where Khushi was. She was sleeping soundly after giving birth. The doctor said she had lost a lot of blood. Although the bleeding had stopped, she had become very weak. She looked pale, alarmingly pale actually and her breathing was shallow. Fear gripped Arnav's heart despite everybody's reassurance.

He spent the night holding her hand and sitting on the floor near her head, counting her breaths. He didn't know when he fell asleep, his head resting near their joined hands. But he woke up to Khushi's gentle fingers lightly gliding through his hair. When he opened his eyes, she urged him to lie down beside her on the bed. He obliged, and she didn't waste any time snuggling into his chest, her arm draped across his belly.

"Will you be angry with me for the rest of your life if I leave this world before you?"

Arnav's heart dropped at her question. "Don't ask me questions like that."

"Answer me, please."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I can never be angry at you."

"Good, I don't want you to be angry at me at all."

"Then don't even think of leaving."

Khushi tilted her head to look at him and smiled tiredly. Arnav placed a soft kiss on her dry lips. "I felt like I would never see you again, or our babies..... I was so scared."

Arnav gulped down the lump in his throat and didn't say anything in response, only pulled her closer to his body.

She had been quiet for a while, and Arnav thought she had fallen asleep when she spoke again."We have two babies now," she said almost disbelievingly.

"Yes, we do. We didn't even know how to raise one."

"Shhh, we'll manage," she said dreamily. "One baby is for you, one baby is for me. Did you hold them?"

"Yes, I did."

"I haven't yet. I guess I had fainted at the end," she said sadly.

"Why don't you get some sleep and gather some energy, Mommy?" he said lovingly. "If they're to be like you, we'll have a lot on our hands."

"What are you saying? I was a very quiet kid."

"Sure, you were," he whispered against her forehead.

"You were no better, mister. I know all the stories from your childhood, so you can't deny it. At least I didn't get stuck in a patila."

Laughing, Arnav gathered her in his arms even tighter, and both of them fell asleep like that.

"Bhaiya, Bhabi, come quickly! Roma Aunty is calling you," Amelia's voice called out across the courtyard to the little bubble of the family of four, who were just chatting.

Over the years, Amelia blossomed into the remarkable young lady she was destined to be. As the cloud of melancholy gradually lifted, it revealed her true essence—a kind, compassionate, and fun-loving individual, fiercely protective of those she loved.

"Let's go Mrs.Raizada."

He extended his hand toward his wife.

Khushi looked up at his extended hand, recalling a time when he had reached out in much the same way to guide a little girl out of the darkness.

Khushi scooped up Kush in her arms as Arnav held Ayushi. Hand in hand with their children nestled in their arms, they joined the rest of the family. The warmth of the burning diyas cast a golden glow over them.

In the end, as they embraced the spirit of the festival, they realized they found their perfect piece of forever in each other's arms, in each other's eyes, knowing that this was where they were always meant to be.

----------THE END----------

<previous>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @msbhagirathi @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte

[chotebabua]

HUSBAND

[watermelon-eater]

do non indos know our vice presidential candidate basically got doxxed and his throwaway account hacked some couple months ago and a ton of the wild shit he said in middle/high school (?) including blatant misogyny and weird stupid racist jokes are bein spread around. like this guy is being cancelled out of vice presidency and its not even because of how his position is a disrespectfully blatant display of nepotism going unchecked in this country

EDIT: sorry for spreading misinformation on the internet apparently this man was in his late 20s when he posted that shit. it wasnt some edgy middle school phase bro was pushing 30 and saying all that shit about women. crazy

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Saheb, Bibi Aur Ghulaam

#1

For IPKKND’s 13th anniversary, hosted by the lovelies @arshifiesta

1903, Kolkata

Nandkisore sat by the ghats, watching the sun set on the Ganges. Devotees offered prayers while lovers sat in the ferries, gently bobbing from one end of the river bank to the other.

Not too many summers ago he had arrived, with barely a paisa in his pocket, and only a few local words that he had picked from fellow travellers.

“What were you thinking about sahab?” Mohan, his rickshaw puller, asked. Nandkisore chuckled at being referred as a sahab. It would take him some time to get used to that honorific. Granted, his patent for a new type of printer at the printing press gave him a financial security that his ancestors had never seen, but that couldn’t really make him a sahab.

Nandkisore pointed to the sprawling mansion across the river.

Sheesh Mahal

Owned by the richest zamindar in the city. By a true sahab - Arnav Mullick.

“Oh Maa! Did you know him? Were you both friends? Is that how you learned how to make money?” Mohan asked.

“No, Arnav sahab was my employer,” Nandkisore said. The formidable Arnav Mullick was nobody’s friend but his kindest, sweetest wife was the closest friend Nandkisore ever had.

And the only thing he learned in the godforsaken house was tragedy.

— — —

1897, Kolkata

The white marbles and mirrors of Sheesh Mahal made it stand like a diamond amidst the city. A step into the haveli and one would think another city lived inside it. Water fountains to an army of servant, Nandkisore hoped to find some employment within that army.

As a Punjabi lad he struggled to find meaning between all the Bengali words thrown left and right at him, but he was able to piece together what all the househelp agreed on.

Since he hadn’t seen the haveli in entirety yet, he must see the central courtyard! Chhote sahab, although strict, disposed the idea of servants not being allowed in certain areas or using separate cutlery.

Huh, it was surprising that in a house of two brothers it was the younger one that wielded more power.

But why would anyone be surprised? Given his progressive ideals that made him a favorite amongst the workers and a sore in the eye among other zamindars, London return Chhote sahab brought the financially wrought Mullick household into prosperity.

The househelp clearly favoured him, reciting some of his speeches as well. For those who blamed modernization and London as an influence for his liberalism, he laughed that studying the English and seeing the effects of their Industrial Revolution opened his eyes in ways one could never imagine.

So Nandkisore was eager to meet Chhote Sahab. But before that - a trip to the main courtyard. There were whispers of tapestry belonging from the Mughal eras, intricate woodwork that took countless hours and men to produce, ingenious architecture that illuminated the courtyard at all times of the day.

Except nothing caught Nandkisore’s eyes apart from the lady in red, sitting on a swing.

“That’s Choto boumaa,” one whispered.

Nandkisore reddened, for having admired the wife of Chhote Sahab. But there was a genuine goodness in her that radiated an aura of kindness, of childishness.

Little bells chimed in the air as the youngest bride of the house swung high, her alta stained feet adorned with heavy payals, a Jalebi in her hand.

None could ever look at her with an evil eye. She was a good person. He knew it. He believed in it.

The bahu nearly jumped off the swing when a babu appeared. Given the way he strode to her with two helpers who had a pile of gifts - sarees and jewleries - that must be Chhote Sahab!

Then why did a chill run up Nandkisore’s spine?

“Dada, you have no business gifting things to my vwife.” A man strode into the courtyard, his gait enough to frighten the babu’s two helpers.

Tall, sharp nosed and not a hair out of place. His eyes held an icy wrath that could shake the soul out of any ordinary man. Nandkisore knew that that man had to Chhote Sahab.

Then who was the other man? And why was he gifting Chhoto Boumaa?

A bile rose up in NK’s through as understanding dawned.

“A wife who spends all her time alone? Perhaps you and I aren’t that different Chhote,” The babu scoffed.

“If I find you, again, near my wife, then you can find yourself another home.” The young bride cowered behind her husband - clenching her saree in anxiety.

“ARNAV! HOW DARE YOU!”

“Keep your voice down Shyam Mullick, if it wasn’t for boudi’s plea then…”

Of course, the other babu was Barrister Shyam Mullick. The older son, the heir eclipsed by his younger brother.

Shyam threw the gifts aside and stormed off. Nandkisore breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God Chhote Sahab had arrived in time, if not then Chhoto Boumaa would have had to deal with the sleaze of a brother in law-

“Your greed has no end, does it?” She yelped, her arms in Arnav’s brutal grip.

“Na, na ami-” her soft pleas for mercy had no audience in him.

Nandkisore dropped a metal bowl and ducked, Arnav sprang apart from his wife and walked away, while the fragile woman picked up the fallen Jalebi from the floor to put it away.

Her eyes were full of tears, and Nandkisore rued on the fate she had. Her home had two men who abused her and she had nowhere to run.

He was thankful Chhote sahab didn’t see him drop the bowl.

He was careful to tiptoe away.

“Darao,” he halted at Chhoto Boumaa’s order. She studied his face for a moment.

“Shukriya,” she whispered.

“Oh no no, please Chhoti Malkin-”

“Call me Khushi please,”

— — —

A/N; finally!!! Here’s my little contribution to the festival! Enjoy enjoy and let me know your thoughts 😊

[arshifiesta]

Welcome to Arshi Fiesta!

Phati-sari's aur Sanka Devis, hum tumka forgetyay naahi gaye hain! Hum toh ee lobhbirds ko surprisewa deve ke khatir tumka bulawat hai! Samjheev? Ab ee ka baat padho, e khoon bhari taang kaa introductionwa likh ke gayi hai dekho to jara👀

Theme Introduction: Colours of Love!

If you didn't know already, "Satrangi Re" is a song from the movie Dil Se which is based on the concept of seven stages of love depicted in Arabic Literature. Each stage is denoted by a color so let's look at Arshi's story through these colours!

1. Black for Attraction (hub)

The song starts with a hauntingly energetic tune (spooky!) and we weave through a maze of passages till we finally meet our protagonists. Quite like how Arshi started out as strangers who didn't look like a compatible match initially until all the pieces of puzzles fell into its place.

The beautiful lyrics captures the essence of their dhak-dhaks, their initial attraction that exists from their very first meet. They've hated each other, loved each other but have never ever stopped being attracted to one another. As if a magical magnetic force has kept bringing them together over and over again (guess who? Devi Maiyya of course!) 🖤

2. Violet for Infatuation (uns)

Uff, Infatuation inke jaisa toh aur kisi couple me nahi hai, right? The subtle yet lingering touches, intense gaze, impulsive kiss games and everything about their chemistry is absolutely electrifying! No one does infatuation like them 💜

3. Blue for Love (ishq)

Love love love. Love took so long to blossom between them, like a long drawn out fire. Was it blazing or were there only a few embers alight? One could barely tell. Love started from care first. But they could only care once they hurt each other, right? Oh and hurt they did, they hurt each other really bad. But, isn't it only the people you care about who could hurt you? 💙

4. Green for Trust (akidat)

Trust is tricky. Trust takes longer than love. Because you can only trust someone blindly when you love them. From the chain of broken pearls to the soft and patient unwinding of fairy lights... somewhere between that Arshi started trusting each other. And it strengthened when Arnav stepped up to dance with Khushi, strengthened again when despite all evidence against Khushi and Shyam, Arnav decided to confess his love to her... as if it was the last thing he had left to do. And later when he came to know about Garima's past, he trusted Khushi again. Because things aren't always as black and white as they look. Sometimes they're green 😉💚

5. Yellow for Worship (ibaadat)

What is love or partnership without worship? From strangers to enemies to lovers, at each stage Arnav has worshipped Khushi. Taken care of her in ways that she needed, in ways that people around her couldn't. Tangled feelings and arms entwined in one another's. A shower of gifts, a series of intoxicated confessions. Arnav may be an atheist but if he has worshipped someone apart from his family, that's Khushi. Khushi is as good as any religion to him.

6. Red for Madness (junoon)

The first thing when you think of Red is probably danger or hell-fire. And that's right too because the fierce fire they have isn't like any other. It burns and scathes. It leaves scars. It is a mad love. They hurt and insult each other, they shout at each other. Their egos are too big for one another. And when they're done hurting, they love each other just as fiercely too. ❤️

As Aakash ji has nicely put it, "Khushi ji thodi pagal hai na?". Arey Aakash ji, aapke bhai bhi thodi kam pagal hai? (Don't tell him I said that 🫢)

7. White for Death (maut)

Death is not always about dying. Well sometimes it is... like the time when Khushi nearly dies at the cliff and Arnav fin-fucking-ally kisses her but only for CPR 😒. Or when they both pretend to die on stage as star crossed lovers Heer & Ranjha.

But death is also about other things like the death of hierarchy between them when Khushi was no longer Arnav's employee. The end of anger between them during holi after days of fooling each other with farq nahi padta post contract marriage. The end of difficulties in their path (almost) when they were about to get married again, for reals. The death of distance between them, not just physically but emotionally too, when they spend the night at the hut after running away from the goons. Like they literally met at a grave (dargah) for their second encounter, no? 😌🤍

Accha toh tum padh li ho kaa? Haan, toh e par se tumka kachu toh banave ka pade, aage tumko khoon bhari taang hi samjhayegi okayyy?

Ab jao, thoda paani piyo aur humka bhi pila diyo haiin... Bahutay garmi hai aaj🔥 Hello hi bye bye!

Never mind sasuma, you guys! We're here to celebrate toh let's wish the couple first! A very very Happy 13th Anniversary to these two AND every single one of you who has loved them, adored and cherished them at some point!

Tagging the people who liked the introductory post in comments below because it wasn't clear if y'all wanted to be tagged or not oof! :((

Index to prompts here

In case you missed the first post!

P.S. Search #moodboard or #word prompt on this blog to easily find all the prompts :)

[chutkiandchotte]

girls aren't dumb and i absolutely take it seriously & hate it when anyone tries to imply this. its an absolute and instant ick for me when a real and/or fictional person expresses such a sentiment.

long story short i really hate the IPKKND fanfic cliche of Arnav/the narrator commenting on Khushi's "peanut brain" "tiny brain" "don't use your peanut brain" "don't use this tiny brain of yours" (🤢🤢🤢 its a trope...its actually a trope...)

like first of all that is demeaning AF its not funny at all (sorry i have no sense of humour about this...i just don't) and second of all, KHUSHI IS CANONICALLY SMART. I KNOW THE WRITING GOT BAD AT TIMES BUT SHE IS A SMART AND RESOURCEFUL GIRL WHO HAD THE CAPABILITY TO WIN ARNAV'S CHALLENGES AND IMPRESSED HIM AGAINST HIS WILL EVEN WHEN HE WAS AT HIS PEAK OF HATING HER. EVERYONE AROUND HER KNOWS HER AS THE IDEAS PERSON AND GOES TO HER FOR CREATIVE SOLUTIONS TO DIFFICULT PROBLEMS. NANI CALLS HER SMART AND MATURE FOR HER AGE, REPEATEDLY!!!

look, she is not stupid, any more than Arnav is a violent & abusive, which is to say, yes sometimes when the writing was bad, this is how they came across but at their core this is not who they are. i don't want this smart Arnav dumb Khushi dynamic, I like them as two smart people (maybe with different types of intelligence) who match each other's level like no one else can and IDK why you'd want it any other way!

[msbhagirathi]

Word Prompt "Colly wobbles" for the IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta by @arshifiesta.

Character: Kaveri Khushi Gupta, Arnav Varun a.k.a AV

FF: A River Runs Through It

Author: meera30

Reason: Coz I am in love with this ff right now. Now stop finding reasons and read on.

Khushi didn't know how did he do it. It was freezing cold outside in Detroit and here was the man in question giving out a presentation which he had prepared ~in merely five minutes~ before the meeting had to be started urgently.

Clad in a crisp white shirt rolled up to his forearms, the angry gash visible just as a slip of cut, the jacket and the waistcoat already lying on the chairback. Tie hanging a lil bit loose from its usual place. Shiny charcoal colored trousers hugged his legs like a second skin. Yet, he looked as fresh and energetic as ever.

Illegal.

How can he be so perfect?

Why did I of all people had to fall for him?

She knew that her being physically bulky had nothing to do with who she fell in love with. And yet she felt a bit wretched for having fallen for such a personification of perfection.

Sometimes, she didn't know which one was more comforting? To have been immune from his charm and just keeping to herself in college or having badly fallen for him strong enough to keep away all the strangers she had met just so she could forget that one man. And yet, the 'date other men to forget him' idea was as terrible as it sounded.

As she could go no further then two minutes of looking at them and instantly comparing them to him. She knew she was being horribly desperate. But then anyone would be if the man in question was the subject of discussion...

She started scribbling an insignia (for the umpteenth time) in her notepad which she had used earlier to jot down the good points.

"Ms. Gupta. Its good that you are at least concentrating on something but I would much rather that something to be nothing but this presentation."

Arnav Varun was looking at her with that knowing smile as if he had found a key to a mystery puzzle he was looking for. His glasses gleaming at an angle.

Embarrassed at being in the wrong side, Khushi immediately changed the page and looked up at the projector screen.

"Sorry sir."

Did he know?

Had he seen her drawing his name initials in her notepad with such an interest?

What was with that smile?

And yet now he continued with his presentation as if nothing had happened. Voice unflinching and firm. Emanating an authority. An air of importance.

Hey shivji! Why do I have to be the one target that you are never tired of playing with?

The gravel in his voice still used to send chills down her spine in a good way of course.

"Okay everyone that would be it for now. If I happen to have something else I would be calling all of you back. Please be ready for more impromptu meetings this week. If anyone has any questions please do ask or you're free to leave, thank you for your attention."

Khushi gingerly raised up from her chair praying to let her go to a certain someone sitting in the Kailash parvat with his wife who loved creating sweet troubles for her in situations like these. She quickly wanted to slip away along with the rest of the others.

But, Arnav Varun didn't let that happen. He looked up from his laptop at her.

Please don't tell me to stay back.

Please tell me the one thing I am yearning to hear from you for half a decade now.

Please let me go.

Please stop me and kiss me.

Hey shivji! She might have as well become a lunatic by now.

She was about to leave when..

"Khushi.."

She turned back only to find him sitting at his chair relaxed. All tension and seriousness gone with everyone else from the room. He sipped his glass of chilled water.

There was something in this man that made her feel at peace and nervous at the same time.

"Yes sir."

She heard the sound of her voice which shivered slightly.

Don't get the wrong idea okay? I am DEFINITELY NOT scared of you.

"No 'sir' please, just AV, when we are alone."

"Okay.. AV.'

He smiled.

"Show me your notepad once Khushi."

NO. PLEASE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

'Uhh.. I am in need of it urg-"

"Yeah yeah I know you need it I had seen you noting down points in it. But please I assure you I don't eat paper and I would return it within a few sec. Please?"

Khushi very hesitantly held it out and before he could open it to her eternal mortification and second hand embarrassment, Arjun's name came flashing out on her mobile screen.

A whole wave of relief hit her whole being as she excused herself to pick it up as an important call, leaving behind all her things in the room.

After fifteen minutes when she came back to her cabin she realized she had left all her things in the meeting room. She was about to sprint back to the room. When she spotted her things: her laptop bag, her water bottle and her notepad neatly sitting in the center of her desk.

At lunch break, she entered the cafeteria and already found the whole team along with (of course) AV himself sitting at the corner-most booth. She walked up and sat at the chair two seats away from him. She saw his phone lying on the table.

Suddenly it came alive with a notification and she saw the lock screen. A sprawly drawing. Careless strokes of blue ball point pen. Carved into the paper on a ruled page which seemed familiar.

An insignia, which she had scribbled on her notepad, out of boredom, sitting in the meeting room, a few hours ago. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Heat rushed to her ears and a slow blush crept onto her face and refused to go away. She couldn't believe the fact that Arnav Varun had taken a click of her drawing and set it as the lock screen on his phone.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him check the notification and quickly closed off the screen, checking if anyone else noticed it or not and went back to the conversation going on.

Khushi couldn't pull out the image of her insignia on his phone screen. Her mind kept replaying the image and she couldn't stop herself from blushing. Her body had gone into over-drive. Her heart was fluttering. Her hands and legs felt shaky. Her palms felt clammy. Warmth surrounding her face and neck and the rest of her body. Her stomach was in colly-wobbles.

Hey shivji, please, I must be looking like an idiot. Please help me staaaap this blushing, my cheeks are hurting now. Uff. Stupid AV. Stupid me.