#Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon

[ipkkndlovescenes]

Deja Vu Moments

[featheredclover]

This is so ASR coded 🧎🏻‍♀️ ( I cannot keep calm )

[hand-picked-star]

Iss Pyaar ko kya naam doon and bollywood (songs not included)

PART - 01

PART - 01 / PART - 02 / PART - 03

[bucketsofsalt]

“aap kitne achhe hai” based on my intimate knowledge of knowing they have heart to hearts in his closet 😌

[riotinyellow]

They really did eat with arnav's theme

[pyaargulzar]

guidance (pt. 2)

summary: khushi awaits arnav's arrival from the office desperately, craving his presence in one way more than others. arnav uses the opportunity to provide her with some guidance.

genres: romance, angst, smut, fluff-ish

disclaimer: part 2 does in fact contain smut (!) the guidance is in fact provided.

Khushi’s breath hitched, the sound soft but unmistakable—a moan, not a groan. Arnav froze for a moment, his grip tightening around her as the noise sent a spark of heat straight through him. Blood rushed to his manhood instantly, his body reacting before his mind could catch up.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his gaze sweeping over her flushed cheeks, the way her lashes fluttered as she avoided his eyes. She was blushing all over by now, her vulnerability laid bare, and it only made him want her more.

He brought his right hand up to caress her cheek, his touch gentle yet electrifying. The gesture finally prompted her to open her eyes, and the desperation in her gaze made Arnav want to lose all control.

He wanted to take her right here, right now. “Khushi…” he whispered, his breath hot, fanning her face as he moved closer, brushing his lips against hers.

He was feeling so much—too much. He wanted to savor this moment, to etch every detail into his memory. Khushi was opening up to him in a way she never had before, and the trust she was placing in him left him feeling honored and fiercely possessive all at once.

Before he could process it further, she pushed herself against him, kissing him with everything she had. The suddenness of her impatience surprised him, and a low moan escaped his throat as her tongue slipped into his mouth, working against his.

Arnav picked her up effortlessly, and she intrinsically wrapped her legs around him, their kiss unbroken. He carried her to the bed, gently laying her down before pulling back to look at her with hooded eyes, his desire for her burning brighter than ever.

She lay there, her mouth swollen from his kiss, her chest rising and falling as she panted. Her eyes grew dark with lust, mirroring his.

He wanted to tease her for being so needy, so utterly consumed by him, but the other part of him—the primal part—wanted to ravish her.

The former won, for now, as his hands found the waistband of her trousers. In one swift, practiced motion, he slid her pants and panties down, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze.

Khushi moaned, the cool air hitting her heated folds. Her underwear clung to her for a moment, drawing a thin line of slick that connected to her core.

“Fuuuck,” Arnav groaned, precum beading at his tip at the sight. “How long have you been this wet, Khushi? Look at you—so ready for me.” His hands moved quickly, shrugging off his waistcoat and yanking his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, his breath deepening as he tossed the fabric aside.

Khushi hid her face behind her hands, overwhelmed by the way Arnav was looking at her, his gaze predatory and possessive. It was too all much. Her hole clenched around nothing under his scrutiny, and she brought her thighs together instinctively, trying to ease the ache.

The movement triggered something in Arnav. His hands reached for hers, pulling them away from her face, placing them on his defined torso. “Look at me, Khushi,” he commanded leaning down, his voice low and rough. “Were you like this for me?”

His left hand drifted to her core, spreading her slickness with his index and middle finger, earning another moan from her. “Tell me, Khushi. You don’t have to hold back. You’re my wife—you can ask for me whenever you want.” He paused, a sinister idea forming as he watched her nod innocently, her eyes pleading.

But before he could act on it, Khushi surprised him. Her hand reached for his, fingers curling around his wrist, urging him to continue.

It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. She had never done this before—never taken control, never asked for more than he gave. The realization hit him like a wave, and his heart swelled with pride and desire.

He hesitated for a moment, then pulled his hand away, teasing her. The absence of his touch was unbearable, and a frustrated groan escaped her lips. She squirmed, her body arching toward him, every movement screaming her need.

In a swift motion, Arnav removed his belt, letting his pants and boxers fall to his knees. He never broke eye contact with her, his gaze locked on hers as he stood between her legs.

“Khushi,” he said, his voice low and dripping with mischief, “let me teach you something important today.” He reached for her hand, guiding her fingers to her clit with a deliberate slowness. “Like this,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear as he showed her how to rub herself with just the right pressure.

“Arnav—ahh!” she gasped as pleasure shot through her. But before she could fully lose herself, his hands were gone, leaving her trembling and desperate. Her eyes flew to his, wide with frustration, only to find him smirking down at her, his hand now wrapped around his length, stroking himself slowly.

“You have no idea,” he said, his voice rough and strained, “how many times I’ve had to do this because of you, Khushi.”

She was too far gone to question his words, her mind clouded by lust. The sight of him touching himself was driving her wild, her arousal pooling beneath her.

“Take your kurta off for me, baby,” he coaxed, his free hand gently rubbing her thigh as he stayed hovering between her legs. “I want to see you.” His touch was tender, a contrast to the hunger in his eyes, and it spurred her into action.

She obeyed without hesitation, her movements automatic as she began to undress, her eyes never leaving his. She quickly discarded the last piece of restriction, throwing it to the side with her dupatta.

“Good girl” Arnav breathed out heavily, eyes on her swollen nubs, “fuck, no bra today? you're going to drive me crazy”. It was taking every fiber in his being to not grab her pretty tits, lick them, pinch them, squeeze them—his member twitched at the thought of the soft flesh in his mouth and he moaned.

“Lay down, I'm going to teach you to…mhm....to help yourself when I'm not here”

“What do you mean?” Khushi asked, confused  

“What you've been feeling today, it would be better if you do this, I'm going to teach you how to touch yourself when I'm not here to fuck you”

Khushi gasped at how vile his words sounded, he was still pumping himself, eyes on her as he said the most vulgar thing she's heard “A-Arnav-ji what do you mean?”

Oh, was he back to Arnav-ji now? He cocked one brow up but didn't push his desperate and confused wife. “Spread your legs and listen to me, mh…fuck, yeah just like that” he moaned at the sight of her soft folds back on display, all for him. 

Khushi was being so good, so unbearably perfect, that it took every ounce of his self-control not to lose himself in her completely. The urge to claim her, to fill her until she could think of nothing but him, burned through him like a wildfire. He wanted to erase every thought from her mind, to replace it with nothing but the sensation of him—her body full, her world reduced to the two of them. But he had to wait. He's going to be patient with her, this wasn't about him. 

His grip tightened on himself, his other hand sliding down to her sex. He gently inserted two fingers that were welcomed inside by her arousal, curling them just enough to make Khushi arch her back and throw her head back, a raw, incoherent noise escaping her lips. He pumped his fingers a few more times, drawing out the moans he loved hearing so much—before pulling away, leaving her trembling for more.

Her head snapped up again, now a mix of anger and need flashing in her eyes. “Shhh… I know,” he cooed, his voice low and soothing. “You’ll feel better soon. Just keep your eyes on me.”

He brought his fingers, glistening with her need, to his lips, sucking them slowly. A shared moan escaped them both, the taste of her driving him wild. God, he loved her taste. He loved his wife.

Switching hands, he coated himself fully with any remaining wetness left on his fingers, the slickness making his movements smoother, more urgent. His eyes locked onto hers, his mouth hanging open as he felt himself teetering on the edge.

“Mhm, fuck, Khushi,” he groaned, his voice ragged. With one final stroke, his head fell back, and he came undone. Thick ropes of release spilled from him as he kept pumping, milking every last drop, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

A low moan filled the room—and it wasn’t his. Still riding the waves of his climax, his head snapped toward Khushi. Her eyes were dark and hooded, chest rising and falling, her lips parted as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath. 

The sight of her—completely undone, her cheeks flushed, her body trembling just from watching him—sent a fresh surge of heat through him. She wasn’t just witnessing his pleasure; she was devouring it, her own desire mirroring his in a way that left him wanting more.

Arnav’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight, his seed on her skin, marking her as his. The visual alone was enough to make him hard again. “Your turn now,” he commanded, his voice low and dripping with dominance. “Touch yourself. Show me how much you need it.”

Khushi felt intoxicated, her body moving on its own as she obeyed. Her fingers found her clit, trembling slightly as she began to rub. Her eyes stayed locked on Arnav, watching as he gave himself one last, slow stroke.

“Good,” he growled, his voice heavy with approval. “Just like that Khushi. Don’t stop.”

She began circling her fingers, mimicking what Arnav always did, trying to replicate the rhythm he’d taught her. Her movements were tentative at first, but the memory of his touch guided her.

Arnav’s focus sharpened on her, his gaze heavy and unwavering as he watched her unfold. Her body trembled, her entrance clenching around nothing, a silent plea for the release she desperately needed.

Without a word, he took her other hand, guiding her fingers to where she ached, slipping two inside with a slow, deliberate precision that left her gasping.

Her fingers on her clit stilled for a moment as she gasped at the intrusion, her body trembling. “Keep touching yourself, Khushi,” he urged, his voice calm and steady. “It’ll feel better if you don’t stop.”

Khushi obeyed again, her fingers resuming their rhythm as Arnav helped her pump in and out, his hand steadying hers until she took over completely.

“Mmh—ah… Arnav,” she moaned, her hands moving with growing confidence, driving him wild with every sound that came out of her mouth and body.

“That’s it, good girl,” he soothed, his voice a mix of praise and desire. “Make yourself come for me, Khushi.” He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to her hip, and she arched into the contact, her body responding instinctively.

“I-I’m clos—unhhh,” she whined, feeling herself reaching a high, her walls fluttering around her fingers. The sheer eroticism of Arnav watching her like this pushed her closer to her peak.

Arnav’s fingers joined hers, pressing down on her clit with deliberate pressure and speed, expertly amplifying her pleasure. “Arnaaaav—ahng,” Khushi cried out as she climaxed, her body trembling, mouth falling open in ecstasy, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Arnav smirked, a flicker of pride lighting his eyes. Even as Khushi’s hands fell away from her sex, still dazed and breathless, Arnav kept his fingers steady on her clit, gently prolonging her orgasm with practiced precision.

Another strategic win, he thought, watching her head fall back, her body still quivering and arching under his touch.

“Good girl,” he purred, his voice low and approving. “You did so well.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Touch yourself like this whenever you miss me, Khushi.”

Khushi was still coming down from her high, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Am I sick, Arnav?” she asked, her voice shaky. “Why was I like this?”

Arnav waited patiently, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face as her breathing slowly steadied. He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to her swollen mouth, his lips lingering for a moment as if to reassure her.

“When was your last period?” he asked, his tone calm and measured, his eyes soft but searching.

Khushi hesitated, her brows furrowing. “Why?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion. But one look at his face made her give in. “around 2 weeks ago,” she replied coyly, looking away.

“No, baby, you’re not sick,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’re ovulating.” His hand reached for her face as he spoke, bringing her eyes back to him. His touch was warm and reassuring, an attempt to comfort her after this overwhelming experience.

“What’s that?” she asked, her voice a mix of uncertainty and curiosity.

“Well, your body is asking me to give you babies,” he said, his tone playful but laced with tenderness. He wanted her to understand her body, to feel in control of it. Already, his mind raced ahead, planning to get her a tracker to help her learn her cycle better.

“What? How could you say something so…so…ugh,” Khushi stammered, her cheeks flushing an even deeper crimson, pulling Arnav back to the present moment.

He shifted closer, his lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss. Khushi melted into him, her defenses dissolving as she became raw and unguarded again.

“Why don’t I explain your cycle to you in detail after this?” he offered against her lips.

“After what?” Khushi asked, her puzzlement evident as she searched his eyes.

In one fluid motion, Arnav moved down her body, his face hovering just above her core, his hot breath fanning against her. “This,” he drawled, his voice thick with desire, before his mouth descended on her, drinking her in.

Fuck, he had been craving this—her taste, her arousal, the way she responded to him. As he lapped up her sweetness, he couldn’t wait to show her more about anything and everything her heart desired.

author's note: part 2 is heeeereee!! dedicating it to @featheredclover <3 you gave me the push i needed to edit this lol.

i really wanted to show khushi's growth and comfort levels expanding in their relationship, where she, over time, learns to be more honest, knowing that it's finally safe to do so. we could tell as the show progressed that khushi kept concerns to herself and wasn't able to voice them like she wanted to w arnav.

i also wanted to show arnav taking on the role of a provider for her in and out of their bedroom, especially given that she was younger and inexperienced (and i'm like 99.99999% sure he was not a virgin, like c'mon now, be fr). there is a fine line between controlling and guiding, and this was my attempt to explore the latter, as the title suggests.

+ TLDR; i wanted to show khushi learning to be honest and feeling secure in the marriage; arnav helping her navigate and express her needs

+ made a teeny tiny reference to the "it's okayyy, you're my wife, it's your right" dialogue here if you caught it!

[arshiradio]

ITV’s best enemies to lovers portrayal I’d die on this hill 🔥

[arshisrabbaves]

How Khushi and Arnav wanted to do each other during this episode:

No lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while they gasp for air scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the ool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick thribbing, first clenching, ear rining, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy cant walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano eruption, destroying the insides.

[phuljari]

social media au! part 6

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 : if you don't know already, i suck at updates. yes i mean it as a warning!

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

Notifications (aakash_r)

payaliyaa followed you back

iMessage

Unknown: Khushi ji agar aap kal subah tak jawab nahi dengi toh hum ye pictures post kar denge

Unknown: Aur haan, humne aapke sabhi account hack kar liye hai toh sochna bhi mat

iMessage

Unknown: arnav stay right where you are

Arnav: ???? Who's this?

Unknown: khushi

Unknown: hum jiji ka phone use kar rahe hain

Unknown: someone's hacked my phone

Arnav: WTF?

Arnav: What about the picture you just sent?

Payal: 😭😭😭

Payal: tabhi toh keh rahe hain ki rukiye

Payal: can you ask someone from your IT team to sort this issue out?

Arnav: Let me check

Arnav: Also, turn off your phone

Payal: yes yes, already did

iMessage "Raizada" Group Manorama: Aakash bitwa Manorama: Hum tumhare liye miss tip-top chun liye hain Manorama: e dekho Manorama shared Lavanya Kashyap's Instagram profile

Manorama: Hum hi apna ID change karva lete hai HP se Manorama: divamanorama kaisan rahega? Manorama: hello hi bye bye, ekdum hi fantashtic sound karat hai naahi? Aakash: Maa, ye sab kya hai? Aakash: Maine kaha na aapse ki mujhe abhi shadi nahi karni Nani: Shaadi. Toh. Karni. Padegi. Aakash. BITWA Anjali: Are waah mamiji, ye toh badhiya choice hai aapki Anjali: Aur inhe toh Khushi ji bhi follow karti hai Anjali: Unse baat karein kya?

Anjali: Theek rahega Aakash: DIIIII Aakash: 😭😭😭

thekhushigupta

liked by divalavanya, hari_prakash, preetika123, saritaraman, nandiii and others

thekhushigupta tick tick tick gulabi aankhien ✨

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hayerenandkishorekaahai HAYE RE NANDKISHORE E KAA HAI

hayerenandkishorekaahai LAGTA HAI POORI PHOTU DAALNA BHUL GAYI HAINN

hayerenandkishorekaahai AE SANKA DEVI

hayerenandkishorekaahai AADHE KAPDE THEEK THE PAR PHOTO TOH POORI SHAKAL KE SAATH DAALO

hayerenandkishorekaahai AAJ KAL KI LADKIYAN

preetika123 Darling, you're sparkling! ✨

saritaraman Is that the roberto cavalli dress a certain someone brought from a certain somewhere?

nandiii Beautiful Khushi ji!

user1 fishy

⤷user1 esp the caption

hellohibyebye phati sareeee! accha kiya post kardi! hum toh puchna hi bhool jate tumhein, e konsa shade lagayi ho lipshtik ka?

⤷hellohibyebye hum yaad karke oo naa le e he liye

⤷hellohibyebye bahutey bekaar laagat hai 😒

payaliyaa

liked by aakash_r, arnavsinghraizada, divalavanya, nandiii, anjaliiiii.r and others

payaliyaa ❗❗❗IMP NOTE: Hello everyone, as you may or may not know Khushi's account has been hacked recently. We request you all to cooperate till the situation is back in control. Please do not engage with any of Khushi's accounts on any social media until further notice. ❗❗❗

Love to all the 378M followers! Be careful of scammers and hackers out there!

view comments

divalavanya: Oh my god! please be careful, i just received a dm from this account asking me to transfer 25k because of some server issue and i had almost done it thinking that was khushi user1: is this a PR scheme by ardesignhouse? they've hired khushi for their new collection photoshoot and this will def create a buzz ⤷user2: I heard Khushi was supposed to work for Pro Fashion before she signed with AR ⤷user3: maybe pro ppl have some revenge plan up their sleeve? ⤷user1: it's possible. but let's wait to see what happens rather than jump to conclusions

user4: Hope Khushi is mentally safe and sound! This can be an extremely terrifying situation to have your private space infiltrated. Cyber crime is no joke,,, this is def not a PR scheme

user5: Should we block and report?

⤷payaliyaa No, it would be difficult to regain a lost account. We're working on the security, will update everyone soon

iMessage

Arnav: Khushi, try resetting your password from any other device

Payal: okay

Arnav: Shit

Payal: ???

Arnav: Well, that photo you sent me? Not so private any more

Payal: omgggg

Payal: hey devi maiyaaaa 😭😭😭

Arnav: Why are you so goofy even in tense situations lol😂

Payal: kya goofy? hum omg kar rahe hai hindi mein

Arnav: Uh okay. Didn't think you were a devout person

Payal: something new you learn everyday

Arnav: I guess

Payal: wait, is that a bad thing?

Arnav: We'll talk about that later

Arnav: Did you change the password?

Payal: i tried from my laptop but the verification goes to my phone

Payal: so i need to switch it on

Arnav: Okay

Payal: yes, i guess it works now

Arnav: Change your passwords everywhere and add two factor authentication

Payal: yes yes, thank u so much

Arnav: No problem! I'm leaving now but Aman will stay at the office overnight in case something happens

Arnav: A threat to you is a threat to us

Payal: you don't really need to...

Payal: oh ok, when you put it like that

Payal: but i swear it's just some insane stalker guy trying to get me to talk to him

Arnav: Nonetheless

payaliyaa

liked by arnavsinghraizada, aakash_r, divalavanya, thekhushigupta, hari_prakash, preetika123, saritaraman, nandiii and others

payaliyaa Cheers to khushi getting her account back (would've posted a pic with @/thekhushigupta but it seems like we don't click enough pictures together)

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thekhushigupta: jiji hai toh sahi 😭😭😭

⤷thekhushigupta: bohot sariiii

⤷payaliyaa : jisme tum bilkul pagal lagti ho

⤷thekhushigupta: sach sach bolo jiji, tumhari photo acchi nahi aati

⤷payaliyaa : hum toh tumhe beizzati se bacha rahe the par agar tumhe manzoor ho toh karde post..?

divalavanya: Thank god everything is fine Khushi! I was damn worried about you yaar!

⤷thekhushigupta: girl 😩❤️😭

preetika123 omg wtf happened

⤷thekhushigupta bestieeee 😭😭😭😭

hayerenandkishorekaahai BAHUT E PYAARI LAGAT HAI HUMRI PAYALIYA

hayerenandkishorekaahai E LAMBE PYALE ME SE KAA PI RAHI HO BITIYA

nandiii Not bad Payal ji, not bad! Maybe aapko model banana chahiye tha

⤷ nandiii BTW so sorry about Khushi ji's online harassment :(

⤷thekhushigupta nanhe jii wo sab chodiye banana 🍌nahi ban-na kehte hai usee

⤷nandiii Oh sorry, sorry! Typo Khushi ji, maaf kar dijiye

aakash_r You're so beautiful Payal ji! 🙇‍♂️

⤷payaliyaa Thank you Aakash ji! 😌

arnavsinghraizada

liked by aakash_r, anjaliiiii.r, hari_prakash, hellohibyebye, mahendrarudrapratapsinghraizada, gulabo_devyani, payaliyaa, nandiii, laxmi.ji and others

arnavsinghraizada I have a knack for playing

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aakash_r Bhai hope you enjoy your stay!

anjaliiiii.r Aree Waah! I'm so proud of you

user1 Sir, are you hiring?

gulabo_devyani Arnav + Khushi. BITIYA ENJOY

titaliya_k

liked by arnavsinghraizada, anjaliiiii.r, hari_prakash, aakash_r, gulabo_devyani, payaliyaa, divalavanya and others

titaliya_k much needed pampering

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divalavanya My absolute fav! Hope you enjoy the little getaway we @/payaliyaa planned for you <3

⤷titaliya_k you have no idea la! you're the best <33

hari_prakash Didi PAMPERS OUT OF STOCK HAI

nandiii I bet you smell amazing Khushi ji!

⤷arnavsinghraizada She does, now back the fuck off

⤷nandiii nannav wtf

⤷titaliya_k omg calm down boys!

aakash_r Hope you enjoy the jalebis too Khushi ji!

⤷titaliya_k AAKASH JI😭😭😭😭tysm

Notifications (nandiii)

preetika123 followed you back

(1) new messages from preetika123

preetika123: Hey, you're NK right?

nandiii: Yes yes

nandiii: Nice to meet you pretti woman!

nandiii: Khushi ji has told me so much about you!

Notifications (aakash_r)

divalavanya started following you

(1) new messages from divalavanya

divalavanya: Hi

Notifications (payaliyaa)

abhishek_kumar started following you

(1) new messages from abhishek_kumar

abhishek_kumar: Hey

abhishek_kumar: Garima ji showed me your account

abhishek_kumar: Hope you don't mind

abhishek_kumar: Hope your parents mentioned me

iMessage

Khushi: hahahahahhahaha omggg

Khushi: look at these two goofballs

Khushi: aakash ji, payal ji, aakash ji, payal ji

Arnav: You know I'm sitting right besides you right?

Khushi: yesssssssssssss

Khushi: but it's easier to say things here

Arnav: Yeah?

Khushi: stop looking at me all flirty

Arnav: Your sister, my brother and your friend planned this one day getaway for us to "cool off"

Khushi: you're clearly doing the opposite

Arnav: Uh huh

Khushi: like how your fingers on that piano were driving me crazy

Khushi: the swiftness with which you played

Khushi: and those rolled up sleeves arnav, you're killing me 🫦

Arnav: Stop it

Khushi: what

Arnav: Stop biting your lip like that

Khushi: only one way to stop me

TBC

<previous> | <next>

[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSOM SHADE

Part I

Prologue

The Monster in the Shadow

How can such an innocent women have

Such dangerous hands?

- ( The song of the Chapter is "Dangerous Hands" by Austin Giorgio.

2 Weeks ago

A shadow loomed in the dark stillness of the night.

A pair of eyes gleamed.

The eyes of a predator.

Eyes like fire and thunder, laced with venom.

Multiple computers flickered to red all of a sudden. Someone had dared to invade the monster's lair. He was at once thrilled and in awe of the audacity of the intruder, "TheSwallow."

TheSwallow had breached the first layer of firewall the monster had built around his empire of dark web.

And the monster was no stranger to TheSwallow.

He knew her.

He had stolen from her.

How did the monster know the intruder was a "her"? Experience. Years of navigating in the dark corridors of hacking taught him to distinguish between a "he" and a "she". The "she"s usually had a specific style in writing code. These codes in his screens were so damn gorgeous to be written by a man.

The "she"s were very rare in the hacker business, but when there was a "she", it was a fucking spectacle to behold.

Just like what's transpiring right now.

The monster could kiss her dainty little fingers for the show she was putting on. So sexy, so sensual.

A smile curved in the corner of his lips.

His smile was a blade wrapped in silk.

A sinister mixture of danger and delight.

It was time to lay a trap for the little bird. Let’s see how the swallow fared in the sky of the eagles.

Chapter 1

A Serpent in the Eagle's Den

Did you really think

I'd just forgive and forget.

- ( The song of the Chapter is "I see red" by Everybody loves an outlaw)

TheShadowMonster

It's the name she hates the most in the whole universe right now. Who is TheShadowMonster? She doesn't know. No one knows. He is a notorious hacker on the dark web, the lord of that shadowy world. Hackers all over the globe admire him, some worship him and others wet their pants at the mere mention of his name. He is a name of admiration, reverence, and fear in their world.

Khushi Sen Gupta used to admire him, even worshipped him in certain weak moments, but not anymore. Right now, she hates his guts.

TheShadowMonster is a thief.

He has no morals.

As if growing up in a notorious mafia family in Kolkata wasn't bad enough, now she has to deal with this setback in her secret life as well.

Yes, Khushi Sen Gupta is a hacker.

A highly proficient one.

A childhood full of mommy issues and daddy issues does that to you, when you find computers more emotionally available to you than your own parents.

And, Khushi Sen Gupta is a born genius. She discovered the language of computers when she was 8 years old, and since then, she never looked back.

Her father, Sashidhar Sen Gupta is the Deputy Commissioner of Police in Kolkata. Behind that badge, he is also the most corrupt in the country's history, not that anyone knows about his crimes. He is a member of 'The Serpents,' one of the three families that established the mafia in this country in the fifties.

The infamous 'Triad.'

Three powerful families came together to form an organized mafia syndicate that have been dominating the country for decades. These families swore to follow the laws laid down by The Godfathers and to stand by each other in times of need.

In every family, there’s The Boss, often called The Godfather, the unquestioned head who rules the entire empire. Just beneath him is The Underboss, The Heir, waiting in the shadows to take the throne. On par with the Underboss in power is The Consigliere, the trusted advisor who, though not bound by blood, holds the family's fate in his hands.

Beneath this triad of authority are the captains, who oversee specific operations and territories, managing their own teams to ensure the family's orders are executed with precision. At the end of the food chain are the foot soldiers, who carry out day-to-day tasks on the streets.

When territories were being distributed, the then head of the Serpents, Samol Kumar Jha, claimed West Bengal and its borders. They started operating from there. The Sen Gupta family had the honor of being The Consiglieri of The Serpents from the very beginning and they have held that position ever since.

A Consigliere is someone who is not related to the family by blood.

An outsider to the family,

But not an outsider to the mafia society.

He offers legal and financial counsel to The Boss while shielding them from impending threats.

That is Khushi's father now.

The Consigliere of the Serpents.

The Serpents have been ruling West Bengal for decades, but a few years ago, they moved to Delhi when The Boss of that time, Prakash Narayan Jha, decided to dip his toes into politics. As a result, the Sen Gupta household also relocated to Delhi. Even after The Boss was mysteriously murdered, they didn't move back. The Serpents now operate their business in Kolkata from Delhi, as the brother of the deceased boss took over that part of the business a few years ago, giving The Heir a chance to pursue his other interests. The Heir wants to venture into even more dangerous games.

The Politics.

The son of the deceased boss, Shyam Manohar Jha, is eager to try his luck in the political arena, just like his father.

People call him "The Viper".

A fitting description of his nature.

The second family of The Triad is the Mumbai Wolves. As the name suggests, Mumbai is their territory. Khushi knows very little about them. She never had to. In her entire 22 years of life, she hasn't crossed paths with any of them. But she could vaguely recall that the boss's daughter was killed last month, brutally and brazenly, in broad daylight, such an insult to the power the Wolves possessed. The news sent shockwaves through the underworld, leaving everyone on edge and wary of a brewing storm ahead.

And the last but not the least, the most notorious of them all.

The Black Eagles.

Here she stands, right in the heart of their territory.

It’s not that people from one family can’t visit another’s territory. The Serpents have basically been living in Delhi, which is the Black Eagles' domain, for the past two decades. However, a rule has been established. The Serpents can’t meddle in The Eagles' affairs. So, Khushi being here wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for two facts, first, the Serpents and the Black Eagles don’t see eye to eye, and second, she came here to stick her tiny nose in their business.

The serpents and the Eagles are enemies, they have been for a long time, bound by a fragile alliance that forces them to tolerate one another. What turned once-friends into bitter foes? That’s a long story, one best saved for another time. For now, there's a more pressing issue to focus on.

Her whereabouts.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

It is a mistake.

It can't be nothing but a mistake.

A grave one in nature.

Entering enemy territory like this!

But it is a mistake she has to make.

There's a party going on, a costume party with masks, nonetheless. At least it will be a tad bit easier to hide her identity.

The knives strapped to both of her thighs are biting into her skin, adding an extra notch to her already frayed nerves.

Ignoring the pain in her thigh, Khushi simply observes the scene in front of her. She has been preparing for this night for days. She has meticulously transformed her appearance for the evening. The long black sleeveless gown conceals the knives. She's paired the dress with a simple black lace mask. Her dark hair is curled into long waves with lips painted a vivid red.

It is anything but her.

But it is absolutely essential for her plan to remain unrecognizable.

She forces herself to maintain an air of nonchalance. She feigns drinking from the wine glass in her hand, but her eyes are locked on the crowd, never losing focus. A few sips of the drink might have soothed her jittery nerves, yet she refrains. A crystal clear focus is more crucial than any illusion of liquid courage.

The party is being held in the sprawling lawn of a grand mansion owned by a businessman associated with the Black Eagles. The mansion comes alive with the vibrant energy of the party, where twinkling fairy lights drape the trees, casting a warm glow across the night.

Laughter and music fill the open space, a lively symphony of chatter and clinking glasses. Guests mingle in elegant attire, their faces hidden behind an array of intricate masks, each more ornate than the last.

The scent of fresh blooms from the immaculately manicured hedge fills the air. She scans the softly glowing lawn area from the shadows of one of those hedges, observing faces she recognizes from the news over the years. She watches as the soldiers of the Eagles parade around with women mostly decorating the arms of the men they are with, just like those lavish centerpieces, adorning the beautifully arranged tables.

"Mr.Rathore, so nice to see you."

A man's loud greetings draw her attention. Khushi studies the man being greeted. He stands tall, his slender yet agile frame filling out the sharp lines of his tailored suit, a classic black that contrasts with his neatly combed white hair. The burden of age is visible on his face, etched deeply with wrinkles.

Vikrant "the Butcher" Singh Rathore.

The Boss of The Black Eagles.

Everyone in her world has some sort of crimson stain on their hands. But his hands bear the darkest stains of blood, deeper and more haunting than anyone else, the darkest shade of crimson.

They call him "The Butcher" for a reason.

His cold-blooded attitude is a thing of admiration in their world. Khushi has been around men like him in her life long enough not to let that shake her, or at the very least, to ensure none of it betrays her perfectly stoic face, carefully honed through years of practice.

Standing beside him is his son, the Prince of the Rathore Empire, Akash Singh Rathore. A tall, leanly built, lanky man. His role within the Eagles is still uncertain. Rumor has it that the Junior Rathore wants to leave the mafia world, not a promising prospect for the Rathore family, with an heirless empire hanging in the balance.

Those men in the eastern corner of the lawn care very little about the masquerade, standing barefaced while others conceal themselves behind masks. Good for Khushi. Nonetheless, she has studied them so much over the past few days that she will recognize them anywhere whether masked or unmasked, veiled, or unveiled.

Khushi finally lets herself take a little sip of the red liquid for the first time that night. The bitterness of the wine burns her throat, a spark compared to the burning hate prickling her skin as her eyes wander to the man who stands silently beside Junior Rathore.

The man she has come here for.

Arnav Singh Raizada.

The Consigliere of the Black Eagles.

The Vulture.

Her eyes trace over him, lingering on every detail. He stands tall in an all-black suit. The black shirt underneath has its top three buttons open in absence of a tie. His black hair is slightly messy, as if he has just run his fingers through it. He has his gaze fixed on the man in front of him with the most bored, expressionless face she has ever seen. It’s hard to see his eyes from this distance.

But she knows they are brown.

Light chocolate brown.

Like caramel and chocolate mixed together, sprinkled with a hint of orange and green if you get the right angle.

Eyes like shadow and flame.

Eyes that could kill you, literally and figuratively.

She's observed pictures of him in great detail, just for research purposes to be absolutely clear.

Purely and absolutely.

Not because she finds him attractive or anything. Like right now, she can't take her eyes off the handsome man, not because his well-built body is flexing in all the right places as he shakes someone's hand, but because of the stories she has heard of him over the years since he returned from the States seven years ago.

The words have it that after Senior Rathore's retirement, he will be the boss of The Black Eagles, not Junior Rathore. They say Vikrant Singh Rathore favors Mr. Raizada over his own son. In parts, Mr. Raizada even bears a closer resemblance to Senior Rathore than to his own father.

Arnav "The Vulture" Singh Raizada.

He is The Vulture among The Eagles.

In the mafia world, he is known as 'the vulture'. Whereas in the business world, people refer to him by the acronym, ASR. He is the son of the former consigliere of The Black Eagles, Arvind Singh Raizada. Arvind Singh Raizada and Vikrant Singh Rathore were best friends. After Arvind was murdered, his wife tragically ended her life by taking matters into her own hands. Soon after that, Senior Rathore sent the only surviving Raizada to the USA to study at Harvard.

At the age of 25, Mr. Raizada took over the reins of Rathore Industries. It primarily consists of high-end fashion houses, garment factories, and various other business ventures. He transformed the once-dying company into a Fortune 500 corporation. People say his net worth is over 500 million dollars, with some even claiming it is more.

But the more impressive thing is how he got his nickname. He cleared away all their illegal affairs and whitewashed all of their black money, giving them the squeaky clean reputation in the entire mafia world in the police database. Under the shade of the massive wings of The Vulture, The Eagles can now easily operate their business without any hitch.

Such a waste of a Harvard education, Khushi huffs.

There's a saying in her world that became popular in the last few years, "When the vulture surrounds you, try not to die."

He has the reputation of being the deadliest Eagle of them all, the most predatory. He rarely goes on a hunt though, but when he does, it's said to be over in the bat of an eye.

He goes straight for the jugular.

No distractions.

No playing around with the prey.

But no one ever saw him in action. Her bodyguard-turned-driver, Mohan, thinks they are all just rumors The Eagles have spread to instill fear among the masses regarding the next in line.

She fakely smiles at a waiter who offers her some desserts. Slightly raising her wine glass, she pretends to take a sip once again. She keeps her inspection ongoing from under the rim of her glass. She is right. Mr. Raizada does run his fingers through his hair a lot. The tattoo on his hand catches her eye.

He has a tattoo of a swallow on his right hand. Her favourite bird.

She even named her hacker ID "TheSwallow." She yearns for the freedom of the bird and wants to fly away to a far-off land one day. She doesn't want to be frowned upon like the peacock or the swan. She wants to be free, lost in the crowd like a normal human, not caged away in a castle.

She feels bad for the bird inked into his skin. Such a pretty bird to be trapped on the hand of such a despicable man. Just as he has caged the swallow forever in his skin, The Vulture has robbed her of her freedom as well.

She worked tirelessly throughout her years at IIT Delhi to gather information and evidence about the crimes committed by his father and the Serpents, so that by the end of her graduation, she could share them with the police in exchange of protection and escape from the country. She also coded a deadly virus that could evade any high-end security system, which she intended to sell on the dark web for a high price. But as she was transferring the data to the CBI, it stopped at the 10% mark, and all her data and the virus she created were gone. Abso-fucking-lutely gone. Not a single file remained on her computer. To make matters worse, her computer was formatted.

She was hacked by none other than TheShadowMonster. Why did the infamous hacker in the history of all hackers need to target someone like her? She has no idea. She was in the dark then, and she’s still in the dark now. She doesn't care about the 'why's, 'how's, or 'who's anymore.

She only knows that the information he has hacked is dangerous. It can demolish the entire mob world if it falls into the wrong hands. They can use it as leverage against the mob families, especially the Serpents, to achieve anything. And it has ended up in the worst hands possible.

The hands of an enemy.

She has been tracking the data and TheShadowMonster relentlessly for the past few days. She even managed to hack TheShadowMonster's server. All of this tracking has led her to Mr. Raizada. TheShadowMonster has sold the information to him. She discovered text messages, transactions, and every detail that pointed to the fact that the information was sold to Mr. Raizada in exchange for a huge amount of money.

And with that, all her escape routes have been blocked. She is trapped in this hellhole.

However, the thing is she can't stay in Delhi any longer. She can't afford to wait to collect more information against them as the day of her wedding approaches rapidly. She needs to retrieve the information tonight, at any cost, from none other than Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada.

She is going to kill The Vulture.

She knows it seems foolish and utterly illogical, but she has no other choice. Either she will kill him and obtain the information, or he will kill her and put her out of her misery. Either way, she will be free.

There is one more reason behind her desire to eliminate The Vulture.

Her only friend from university, despite her father's hovering and overprotectiveness, has vanished after the hacking incident. She doesn't want to assume the worst, but her efforts to track him down and her inquiries among other students led nowhere. Neil Kashyap, whom she calls NK, has vanished without a trace. She knows NK can remain untraceable if he wants, as he is skilled with computers and adept at erasing his online tracks as well. But Khushi is Khushi. She discovered a number NK shared text messages with before his disappearance, and that number belongs to Mr. ASR.

Khushi doesn't have time to cry over her pathetic life or the fact that she befriended someone sent by The Eagles to keep an eye on her. She not only befriended him but also made him her best friend for life.

The pathetic, lonely, friendless life that she has.

That is indeed a solid reason to kill Mr. Raizada, for giving her a best friend and then snatching it all away.

Author's note:Thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave your thoughts, I love hearing what you think! Stay tuned for more!

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@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @arshisrabbaves @titaliya

[dnkkpi]

Khushi and Sacrifice

All different kinds of love were showcased in ipkknd, and often, Khushi's way of loving is interpreted as sacrificial, the kind of devotion that makes her a textbook TV heroine. Because in TV and real life, women are (almost) always expected to go to hell and back for the people they love. Women endure, they suffer in silence—for family, for duty, for the greater cause that is love.

But with Khushi, was her endurance, forgiveness, and selflessness a deliberate choice? Or was it the only way she knew how to love?

Sacrifice is a sign of strength, but in Khushi's case it was tinted with weakness.

She did not sacrifice because she was strong, or because her love was noble and virtuous, it rather comes from a place of obligation.

sacrifice as obligation: I must do this for you.

vs.

sacrifice as deliberation: I choose to do this for you, knowing it will hurt me.

At times, Khushi would stand up for herself when she was being abused by Arnav (resignation scene, guesthouse incident...). But at other times, and especially after something starts to ignite in her heart towards him, her boundaries start to blur. She became more passive in face of the hurt, be it emotional or physical. There’s a tragic beauty in how she absorbs the weight of Arnav’s cruelty—not just out of fear of his threats, but because she believes that’s what loving him might look like. She endured, letting him do whatever he wanted with her, not because she chose to be submissive to him, but because she felt obliged to do so if that's what it took to be with him. Love for her looked different—loving him required complete succumbency. Their love was not an equation, very from from it. The highest form of love, is to forgive; and Khushi was a master at that. She always forgave people she loved, from her own family to Arnav, before they even asked for it—often compeletly without. Take for an instance, the early stages of their first marriage, she looked for answers behind his brutality—why was he tormenting her? what had she done wrong? But I would say she dropped those questions rather quickly. She allowed herself to live with those questions, it came easier than forcing an answer out of him. She had faith in him all along, even with this level of torment he'd put her under, she still trusted that he must have a reason behind all of this. She would rather trust him blindly (even if that trust meant her misery) than pressure him into an answer. Now, I don't know wether the writers of the show chose to ditch the questioning of his actions to highlight her inclination to finding comfort—familiarity in being a victim— his victim; or did they just want to drag the show a bit longer? Maybe both.

Khushi gave without expecting anything in return. Because loving Arnav meant easing his strain— even though he was the one causing hers. She constantly put herself in bad lighting as long as it meant she was protecting him, standing with him, submitting to the version of love she had accepted. This is seen in how she hid the truth behind the marriage from the Raizadas as well as the Guptas, even when the truth came out—when Shyam’s lies were laid bare—she still chose silence over vindication. She knew that Arnav blackmailing her into marrying him, will not be accepted by others. Only she can forgive him for it, silently. And she recieved all the disappointment and anger that came with it (from their families) with an open chest. Never once did she spit his name in blame, because she already chose a side: his.

We don't give Khushi enough credit for what she endured for his love, always putting him first. Khushi NEVER thought about leaving Arnav; only when he asked her to. When he said "Why did you come in my life?Why did I meet you? It is all your fault Khushi." she finally thought, maybe he would be better off without me. She thought about abandoning this relationship, not for herself but for him— not because she had reached her limit, but because she thought he had. Even though, she was the one at most disadvantage throughout all of this. This ties into the idea of obligation vs deliberation.

Her sacrifice was to optimize his well-being, hers was never an option. She didn’t measure what she was giving up, because it didn’t feel like a conscious decision. It came natural, as a reflex, as an imperative attached to loving him.

Her sacrifice was never about asserting love through choice—it was about surviving love through submission.

[featheredclover]

cockiness 🤝🏼 tv men

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 10

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 10

Arnav found himself on the floor at the foot of his bed with his back pressed against the bedpost. The room was silent except for the rhythmic thud of the ball hitting the wall and the soft shuffle of it returning to his hand. For hours, he had been doing it. His arm muscles ached with fatigue, but he couldn't stop. The repetitive motion had a strangely intoxicating effect, a temporary escape from the chaos in his mind.

His thoughts were a whirlwind, racing through every possible scenarios of the future. His brain doing continuous permutations and combination and the outcomes swirling in a relentless loop. As a meticulous planner, He had always drawn comfort from the predictability of his well-laid plans. But now, His carefully constructed world had spiralled into a giant mess. He felt like he was drowning. Despite his best efforts, he was adrift in a sea of uncertainty, struggling to find his way back to solid ground.

" Arnav bhaiya, khirkiyan khol du, subha ho chuki hain."

Hariprakash's voice brought him back to reality. Hariprakash had been by his side for the last two years, taking care of him and the bungalow he rented. He glanced at himself and awareness sank in. His body was reeking. He hadn't bathed in what felt like decades. He had been sitting in the dark. Food and sleep had escaped him. The ship had already sailed, without him. That was two days ago. And there was no ship that could carry him hence.

After reading those lines, he had scooped her up in his arms, careful not to wake her. He had laid her down on the bed gently and sat beside her with his right hand on her hair. His thumb had kept tracing gentle circles on the side of her forehead. He couldn't tell how long he had sat there. He just did, watching her without any sense of propriety. When the house had begun to wake up, he couldn't stay there any longer. But he hadn't forgotten to leave his love on her forehead.

Those two lines had halted his departure, turning his legs into lead. He sat on those lines for the past two days, letting them take root within him and anchor him in place. Probably because he always knew but never dared to accept that they were true for him as well.

For so long, the waves of the ocean had been tumultuous, crashing against his shore, relentlessly battering and bruising his delicate shore. Now, the ocean longed for his waves to calm down, to meet his shore with gentle caresses.

She had always been his shore.

He remembered when she was a little girl, her hand clutching his tightly the first time they had taken the walk. He remembered the day she finally, finally accepted that her parents were gone forever, how he had carried her, heaving and sobbing, holding her close against him. He remembered happier days when she had babbled as she had tried to keep up with his pace. All the conversations they had about everything and anything. And how he could talk to her, even when she had been so young, easier than he could talk to anyone else. He had been her friend, protector, and confidant. He had been the most important person in her world. And, then He had let her believe she had lost that relationship, lost him, because he couldn't act on the love he had for her. He had always loved her. The definition might have changed with different stages of their life, but love had always been there, breathing, changing, evolving. And he would always love her the only way he knew how, with his whole heart, with every fibre of his being, with everything inside him.

Yet he had failed to be close to anything he had claimed to be for her—not a friend, not a protector and clearly not a lover. And he would be damned if he wouldn't go to the ends of the world to rectify the situation.

"What day is it, Hariprakash?"

" It's Monday, vaiya"

Monday. That's mean the court would open. He had to go to the court area to assess the situation. He had to get himself accustomed with the environment before he planned anything.

"Prepare breakfast for me."

Throughout the day, he was preoccupied with meetings and discussions with fellow barristers and various law firms, delving into job opportunities, ongoing cases, and important legal matters. As evening approached, the exhaustion from two consecutive sleepless nights caught up with him. He thought he was hallucinating when he saw her. More surprising was that he didn't know how he found himself outside her college. But, she was there, not just a figment of his imagination. She wasn't looking at him though. Her gaze seemed distant, fixed on nothing. There was shadow under her eyes where once star had gleamed. She was there like a whisper of her former self. But what truly terrified him was the absence of the bindi between her eyebrows. It was as if the very essence of her identity had been stripped away, leaving behind an unsettling void. That small dot, once a symbol of her vibrant spirit was now conspicuously missing. It was a haunting reminder, a silent scream of everything that had gone wrong.

And with that realization, another truth hit him. What people said was true; love can reduce anyone to anything. Never in his wildest dreams did Arnav think that a small, round object could bring him to his knees.

As night approached, he was back at the Rajput haveli, sitting on a familiar bench in the garden where the entire story had begun.

The summer when he was 12, he had been fascinated with the game that the Britishers had introduced. Cricket, they called it. He begged his father, before he went abroad, to buy him a cricket bat and ball, and his father complied. That afternoon, he was playing cricket with Aman and Akash bhai. When he came home, hungry, he searched for his mother and found her lifeless hanging in her room. He cursed himself for going out to play that afternoon.

But right after he found her, an intense shiver took over his body. Why? He didn't know. He just vaguely remembered Roma Chachi wrapping him in a blanket and rocking him back and forth. He wished he could shrink himself to that size again so that Roma Chachi could wrap him in a blanket and hold him tighter once again.

"I love her," he whispered, looking straight ahead. "I can't measure it, but I do love her more than I have ever loved anything else in my life. Do you think my love will be enough?"

In the midst of all the chaos in his life, Roma Chachi had always been the one person who understood him without needing a word. She allowed him to be himself. She had been a mother to him without the title since his mother had passed away. So when he opened up to her Monoroma instantly knew who he was talking about and chastised herself for her oversight. They were her children in every way that mattered, even though she hadn't given birth to them. How had she not seen it sooner? She felt like she had failed as their mother.

She caressed the top of his head. "Ghar, paisa, jaydad sab humari khushiyan ke liye hote hain. Hawaali nahi hai toh ban jayegi, khoa hua naam bhi waapas a jayega, lekin khushi chali gayi toh tum use waapas kaise laoge?"

They sat there in the dark for some time, Arnav drawing comfort and strength from her presence. His determination was solidified by her wise words. Eventually, the mother in her became worried. " tumne din bhar kuch khaya?"

Chuckling, Arnav stood up,''You should go inside. it's late. Chachu must be worried,'' he said as he started to leave but then turned suddenly. 'Please, don't tell Chachu anything. I want to talk to him myself."

But three days had passed without any words from Arnav. Monoroma was worried. What was the boy up to? She couldn't get a hold of Arnav, so she focused on Khushi. Her little 'titli' had wilted like a delicate flower deprived of water and sunlight. Sighing heavily, Monoroma approached her. Khushi was sitting at her desk, pretending to read. Without a word, Monoroma gently took Khushi's hand. The unexpected touch broke through Khushi's reverie, and she allowed herself to be led to the bed. Monoroma sat face to face with Khushi. She squeezed Khushi's hand gently, offering silent comfort and support.

"I want to talk to you about something"

Khushi's face was devoid of any emotions. ''Amma, I am ready. I'll marry whoever you ask me to.''

Khushi's expression shattered Monoroma's heart. She gently cupped her daughter's face and coaxed her to meet her gaze. When their eyes locked, Khushi's resolve crumbled. She collapsed into her Amma's lap and started crying silently. Monoroma moved to comfort her when a knock at the door interrupted them. Aman stood hesitantly in the doorway. Khushi quickly composed herself. Sitting up straight she wiped away her tears.

"Someone's here to meet you khushi"

A astonished khushi asked "Who?"

"Tum khud hi dekh lo."

Arnav stood in the garden with his hands casually tucked into his pockets. Khushi noticed with astonishment that he had dressed up. A charcoal grey coat draped over a crisp white shirt complemented by a striking blue tie that made his eyes stand out even more.

"You didn't leave"

Khushi whispered as she moved closer to him. She never thought she would see him again. These past five days, were a literal hell for Khushi. She tried so hard to hate him. But she ended up hating herself for understanding his reasoning. It would be so much easier if she could just outright hate him. Then moving on would be simpler. But against all reasoning, she just wanted him to fight for them. May be it was a little bit naive of her. But the heart wanted what the heart wanted. And her heart wanted him.

Tentative, so cautious, Arnav reached out, hooking one finger around one of hers and tugged her gently.

"I found a house in the city, just a short walk from St. Stephen's College," Arnav started nervously, gazing into her eyes. "Hariprakash,he is my caretaker. He and his wife, Gauri, they will manage the household. "

Arnav swallowed thickly and continued, "Umm..I had applied for jobs at a few law firms here in Delhi, and they have made some offers." His tone grew more confident. "I've also informed my mentor in London that I can no longer continue the apprenticeship." He finished as he gazed at her intensely, taking her hands in his. His thumbs drew circles on the back of her hand while she processed everything he said.

"Marry me, khushi"

Some promises were indeed incredible and dreams did come true, offering beautiful surprises when least expected. Still, Khushi couldn't help but double-check his words.

"What made you change your mind?" she murmured.

Arnav chuckled, looking down at their joined hands," You stopped wearing bindi."

"What?"

Shaking his head, Arnav tried again, "I would rather fight with my conscience than let my decision hurt you anymore." The corners of his eyes crinkled as the spark returned in Khushi's eyes, "And why live in a haveli that others have built when you can design your own?"

Khushi hadn't taken her eyes off him since he started talking. She kept searching, searching, and searching and slowly the corners of her lips lifted up. Without hesitation, she threw herself into his arms, shocking Arnav and also the other seven pairs of eyes that were watching them from different parts of the house. They averted their gaze and retreated inside, leaving Khushi and Arnav alone.

"Is that a 'yes'?" Arnav whispered in her ear as he engulfed her in his arms.

"Do I have to spell it out?" her voice muffled against the curve of his neck, her tears soaking his skin, seeping into his pores.

"No," he murmured, burying his nose in her hair. As her scent enveloped him, he felt the tension of the past few days dissolve from his body, bone by bone.

"Have you talked to Babuji? What did he say?"

"He said it's all up to you," his lips stretched into a grin as she tightened her hold even more. "We are being watched, by the way," he whispered, aware of their audience.

"What? Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Untangling herself from his embrace, she straightened up. She could already feel the warmth spreading across her cheeks.

"Would you have done that if I had told you?" He questioned her while cupping her face with both hands, gently wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"No," she was irritated yet a smile ghosted over her face.

"Then I'm glad I didn't tell you," he rumbled softly, words meant for her ears alone.

Khushi's cheeks flushed even more as she perceived the shifting dynamics between her and Arnav. With a happy yet accusing look, she dashed inside the house, leaving Arnav alone. Feeling the weight of someone's stare, Arnav looked up to find Mahindar Chachu watching him keenly. Awkwardness wash over him as he struggled to decide where to look under Chachu's penetrating scrutiny.

Mahindar was taken aback when Arnav asked to speak with him, accompanied by his two sons. Arnav seemed unusually nervous. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, " I want to marry Khushi. " His words hung in the air which left Mahindar speechless.

Arnav kept talking, "I understand that my current status and situation may not be ideal for someone like her. But I am determined to work hard till I make myself worthy."

"You all have always believed in me, and I ask you to do so one last time. Let me have her as my wife. I promise I will do my best to keep her happy." He finished speaking, looking up at Mahindar with eyes that were eerily similar to those of his best friend's.

Mahindar didn't know what to say to him, so he left everything to depend on Khushi. From her reaction, it was clear she wanted it too. This left Mahindar even more baffled than before. It wasn't that he didn't like Arnav. He loved that boy and knew he had great potential. But allowing Arnav and Khushi to marry was a risk. It was a decision he had to make carefully. Otherwise what would he answer to her father in the afterlife?

His Khushi had always been full of life, aptly nicknamed 'Titli' by his wife for how she had brought colours into everyone's life with her presence. She had danced like a sunflower in the spring breeze and had spread joy and happiness wherever she had gone, true to her name. But a few years ago, her light had dimmed a little. His little sunflower had somehow withered. Mahindar suspected the pressures of growing up had taken their toll. Then, a few months ago, he was pleasantly surprised to see a glimmer of her former self return. It was around the time Dhruv entered her life. Mahinda thought it was because of him.

And, then, suddenly, all colours had faded from his little sunflower again a few days ago. He couldn't fathom the reason. But seeing the colours return instantly at Arnav's mere words, had soothed his worries to a great extent. Mahindar knew he had to take this risk for her happiness.

For the next few days, he kept a close eye on them and marvelled at the fact that his Khushi was back. All the colours had returned to her wings. He noticed something intriguing as well. He observed how incredibly attuned to each other they were. Khushi's eyes seemed to trace his every move and in return, his gaze always sought her out. Like a sunflower instinctively turning towards the sun and following it across the sky, her face would seek his presence and instantly light up whenever he was near. Mahindar sighed, he could now put his worries to rest.

His little sunflower had found her sun.

Finally.

<previous> | <next>

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

[bucketsofsalt]

saathi hai deewana some (Khushi) might say

[phati-sari]

Hi PS, I've been thinking—before Khushi entered Arnav's life, what do you think he was truly looking for in a relationship? If it was just about a simple companionship or physical connection, wouldn’t something more casual have sufficed? I’m just curious why he might have chosen to pursue a relationship instead.

Hello hi!

This post might be interesting?

I guess relationship means different things to different people, but I don't think Arnav was only looking for companionship and physical connection. I think he was looking for something long-term and something that involved commitment. The difference is that many people conflate commitment with marriage and his definition clearly did not involve marriage.

I think that if he hadn't met Khushi and fallen in love with her, he may have stayed with Lavanya, or someone like Lavanya, for the rest of his life. Khushi interpreted his reluctance to marry as a sign that he wanted to keep his options open, and this certainly resonates with a large portion of the fandom who think he has a far more casual approach to relationships than is supported in canon, but I think she misinterpreted it.

In my view, Arnav didn't believe he was worthy of love, and he thought of marriage as something you do when you're in love, like Di and Jija-ji and like Mama and Mami. Ergo, he didn't think he'd ever marry. (This is something I try to explore in RiSHTAA.)

This always upsets people when I say it, but the reality is that most people don't find Great Love. They fall in love with someone who meets their needs and someone whose needs they feel able and comfortable to meet. It's not that they're not in love, it's just that it's not the earth-shattering feeling that Bollywood/Tellywood throws at us. And most depictions of Great Love forget to show the real struggles in trying to build a life with another person, they forget to show that you need to work at love, that love is a choice and a commitment, not simply a feeling.

Aakash and Payal do a much better job at depicting a realistic relationship but their story is often dismissed because it's not dramatic (and somewhere along the way we all learned to equate chaos with love?)

[pyaargulzar]

guidance (pt. 1)

summary: khushi awaits arnav's arrival from the office desperately, craving his presence in one way more than others. arnav uses the opportunity to provide her with some guidance.

genres: romance, angst, smut, fluff-ish

disclaimer: this is a one shot that centers around a mature subject but doesn't really delve into smut. part 2 may or may not .

double disclaimer: gentle reader, i'm new to this genre but wanted to explore it, hope you have fun reading~

Khushi had spent the whole day wearing herself out. Cooking up a week’s worth of food, organizing the already spotless pantry, washing clothes that didn’t need washing. She was trying to keep busy, trying to exhaust herself to the point where her brain and body would beg for rest—and rest only. 

But no matter how many tasks she piled onto her plate, her thoughts kept circling back to him.

She was yearning for her husband like never before. In a way that felt wrong to her—too intense, too consuming, as if she were losing control. It was such a foreign feeling, an uncontrollable urge, an inextinguishable fire rising within her.

Ever since she’d caught sight of Arnav that morning—his damp hair clinging to his forehead, water droplets trailing down the planes of his bare chest, the low rumble of his voice as he’d said her name—her heartbeat had quickened, palms growing slick with sweat.

The feeling was so intense, so unrelenting, that she kept clenching her thighs for relief, but it was no use. Her nipples tightened painfully, a sharp, insistent reminder of the desire coursing through her veins.

Every breath felt heavier, every movement more deliberate, as if her body was betraying her with its need. The memory of him lingered, taunting her, refusing to let her focus on anything else all day.

Arnav barely glanced her way, already on a call before his first cup of coffee. His week had been a blur of deadlines, and now, with the final review of their proposals looming, even her presence seemed to fade into the background.

Usually, Arnav was attuned to Khushi’s emotions better than she was herself. He had learned to read her body, to understand the subtle shifts in her posture, the flicker of hesitation in her eyes. He knew she was still learning to trust him, still grappling with how to voice her needs—especially the physical ones. To him, it was a work in progress, a quiet mission: to get Khushi comfortable, both in her skin and under his.

And now, as she stood in the kitchen with the steel strainer in hand, she realized the only thing she’d successfully accomplished was burning her last batch of jalebis.

The sweet scent drew Anjali and Paayal to the kitchen at separate times, their concerned glances lingering as Khushi assured them everything was fine.

Truly, there wasn’t any reason for concern. It wasn’t like she had fought with Arnav that morning, and everything at home with her family was okay as well. In all honesty, Khushi herself did not know what the problem was.

All she knew was that every thought of Arnav sent a jolt through her, leaving her thighs clenched and her breath shallow, as if holding back a flood she couldn’t name.

Each minute passed by agonizingly slowly after Arnav called Khushi to let her know he was on his way home—a small but significant gesture he made every day. It was his way of telling her that, even amidst his busy schedule, he had spent his day thinking of her, his beautiful wife.

Khushi sat in the living room with the rest of the family for evening tea, her fingers fidgeting restlessly in her lap. She tried to act normal, but her thighs kept clenching and unclenching of their own accord, betraying her inner turmoil. Her body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with anticipation.

“Khushi, are you okay? Did you and chhote fight?” Anjali whispered beside her, her eyes narrowing at Khushi’s restless hands.

“N-no, everything is fine!” Khushi stammered, snapping out of her trance. “We haven’t fought, Di,” she added, forcing a calm tone into her voice.

“If you say so,” Anjali chuckled, though her gaze lingered on Khushi for a moment longer out of concern.

Just then, the front door opened, and Khushi’s breath hitched. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at Arnav, terrified that a single glance would unravel her completely in front of everyone. She was grateful when the family’s attention shifted to Arnav and Akaash, their chatter filling the room as she tried to steady herself.

But she could feel him. His presence was always like a magnetic pull, his electrifying gaze burning into her even from across the room. Her heart raced, skin prickling with awareness.

Just a little peek won’t hurt. I’ve missed him so much today, she reasoned with herself. Cautiously, she glanced up, relieved to see everyone engrossed in conversation. Her eyes trailed up Arnav’s form slowly, taking him in bit by bit.

The way his slacks hung on his hips sent a jolt of heat through her stomach. His waistcoat cinched his defined waist, accentuating the broad expanse of his chest. Her gaze lingered on his wide shoulders, the fabric of his shirt clinging to his muscles in a way that made her mouth go dry. The same muscular arms she clung to when he—

She gasped, cutting off the train of thought, her cheeks flaming. What is wrong with me? she scolded herself, but her eyes betrayed her, drifting shamelessly to his lips. A blush crept up her neck as she fought to push down the thoughts threatening to surface.

Her eyes darted further up before she could stop herself—and she instantly regretted it. Arnav was staring straight at her, his gaze unreadable but intense. That single look was enough to send her spiralling. Her thighs clenched involuntarily, and she shot to her feet.

“I-I have to, umm, clean up something upstairs,” she announced abruptly, avoiding his eyes as she made a beeline for the stairs. She could feel his gaze on her as she fled, her heart pounding in her ears.

Once she reached the stairs, she broke into a run, sprinting up to their room. Her body was on fire, every nerve alight with a need she couldn’t name. It felt like an unquenchable thirst, a hunger that gnawed at her from the inside.

She burst into their room, slamming the door behind her, and leaned on the cool glass of the sliding doors opposite to the pool, gasping for air.

Her entire body was ablaze, her mouth dry, her heart racing wildly. The emptiness between her thighs was unbearable, and the ache only grew worse as she clenched them together. Her nipples were so hard they hurt, and she worried they were visible through her dupatta, which she hastily pulled lower.

Her forehead found the cool glass of the door, and she gasped at the relief it brought. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. What is happening to me? she thought, her mind spinning. What is this?

She was so consumed by her thoughts, that she didn’t notice Arnav entering the room. His footsteps, usually so deliberate and impossible to ignore, were drowned out by the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears. By the time she sensed his presence, it was too late—he was already there, closer than she’d expected, his warmth radiating toward her like a magnet.

“Khushi? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was laced with concern as he took in her disheveled state.

Khushi let out a startled yelp, as she pressed herself closer to the glass. He grabbed her arm gently, turning her around to face him, his touch leaving a trail of fire on her skin. She gasped, her body reacting instantly to his proximity.

A familiar wetness pooled between her thighs at his mere touch, and her face twisted in frustration, worrying Arnav even more. “Khushi? Look at me, please. What happened? Did someone say something to you?” His voice was soft but urgent, his eyes searching hers.

He had noticed her the moment he entered Shantivan. There was an unfamiliar heat in her eyes, a tension in her body that sent a thrill through him. And when her gaze had trailed up his form downstairs, it had taken all his self-control not to react.

“I don’t know what’s happening, Arnav,” she breathed out, her voice trembling. “I-I think something’s wrong with me.”

Arnav’s brows furrowed. Did she just call him Arnav? Not Arnav-ji? His mind raced as he took in her flushed cheeks, her rapid breathing, the way her body seemed to hum with restless energy.

“Okay, what’s going on Khushi? You’re burning up—it might be a fever,” he murmured, half to himself as he stepped closer. His hands reached out instinctively, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

As soon as their bodies touched, Khushi let out a soft groan, her sensitive peaks hardening even more against his chest. Arnav’s breath hitched at the contact, his own body responding to hers.

It was then that the pieces clicked into place—her erratic breathing, her feverish skin, the blush creeping down her neck.

Khushi wasn’t sick. She was aroused.

> ch 2!

author's note: AAAND scene~

part 2 is in the works 👩‍🍳 still figuring out my writing schedule and frequency. i wanted my first work here to be soft and fluffy (more of that to come, i promise!) but i finished writing this first so here she is in her glory.