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This is so unique! I can't wait to see how this story goes! 🖤

Sir Sherlock Holmes & The Indian Princess

शर्लक बाबू और भारतीय राजकुमारी

Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: In England, Sherlock Holmes receives an alarm letter from his dear friend Doctor John Watson. In Delhi, You don't mind being a teacher, but with new building plans, you reflect on your circumstances and opportunities.

Pairing: Sherlock Homes x Desi!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Slow burn, generational trauma, colonisation, implied murder, death of a parent, classism & caste.

Word Count: 6k

Author Notes:

★ Everything written in bold is being said in Hindustani

★The Reader character goes by the last name Newalkar and is the daughter of Damodar Rao Newalkar → the adopted son of Rani Laxmibai. I must advise this story is pure fiction but based in the occupation of the British Raj that invaded and Colonised India.

★I am a White European/Australian woman, I apologise for any cultural or historical inaccuracies. I am receiving help from online sources and desi Tumblr mutual @livesinfantasyland and I heavily encourage other Indian/South Asian/Desi readers to share their thoughts, constructive criticism and help as I write this story.

Inspiring Song: "Paint it Black" by Ciara

11:35pm Thursday 26th June 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

This story begins and ends with the sound of rain.

Tink!

The roof had begun a leak. And when this leak came to play it had a habit of landing directly on the head of a disgruntled and lonely fellow.  The greatest detective in London who could not find a friend. Granted I must inform you, Mr Sherlock Holmes did in fact have some friends, but by misfortunes, none were presently in the country.

Tink!

He angrily sighed. Another drop of rain hit his head.

He launched from his arm chair and grumbling moved an empty teapot to sit on the cushion he previously sat. The drops thus made a small tinkling as they landed inside the empty pot.

Plonk!

He rubbed his eyes and checked the time on the mantle piece clock. He had lost weeks of his life. Hours squeezed down to into unknown days or months, he could not tell. It did not help how he consistently drew the curtains closed to design total darkness other than the fireplace and his candles to light up his home.

A light shiver ran up his spine. The weather was dangerously cold today. His fingertips upon inspection grew from pale white to a dark pink.

Plonk!

He wandered if perhaps it was time to have a holiday in sunny Spain.

A knock on his door broke his imagined vacation like a hammer to glass.

His pesky landlady Mrs Hudson intruded on his stuffy dust filled space. She grumbled nonsense about the filth of her apartment she’s rented out to the famous Detective before handing him a thick envelope.

Plonk!

And the moment he could see and recognised the handwriting he snatched the Letter from her wrinkly fingers and banished her with a bellowing shout. The woman fluttered out and muttered her further disgusts of his treatment.

Plonk!

But Sherlock did not care for her opinion or rather anyone’s for that matter, Sherlock only cares about the stamp he tore opened the parchment he eagerly unfolded.

John Watson. Doctor, soldier and dear friend. He was Sherlock’s greatest companion to note. He had never felt such brotherly love until he met the very man seeking a roommate here in baker street.

Doctor and detective used to comb London for clues to solve crimes and very noticeably took an interest at the sports of pleasure. The luxurious brothels of London welcomed him and his friend with open arms and spread legs. Doctor Watson was the easy victim of sex while Sherlock was one to enjoy his opium pipe and watch his friend succumb to the mouths of half-pound harlots.

And among these adventures of interesting women did the doctor find himself in a savage tussle with another jealous male patron...

Sherlock recalled the evening with mirth. His dear friend, brother in arms had been pummelled to a pulp and drunk as a daisy. So when Sherlock escorted him to a hospital, the imbecile had declared that he was doctor of the ward and did not need any stitches. It is a grand thing perhaps Doctor Watson could not fathom the memory of yelling too proudly that his medicine could be only found in the elixir of a woman’s warm cunny.

His nurse, a dirty bird at heart had giggled at this...that nurses name was Mary Mortenson. And she became the very enamoured Mrs Mary Watson.

Sherlock was not fond of his friend becoming so besotted with his bride. He tolerated the woman’s presences at best. Unspokenly, the detective saw competition to gain the doctors attention and it was becoming far too obvious that Mrs Watson would win. Every. Single. Time.

After a month of young love the married pair had decided their honey-moon should be experienced back in John’s birth land...Delhi, a city in India. Mary was to meet the senior Mr and Mrs Watson. Coincidently, the English rose was not averse to the foreign lands…she so happened to have been born in Agra. Happy and married, they boarded and sailed across the sea.

Sherlock had high hopes their ship would run scarce of supplies so they might return quickly. He missed his dear friend and even his annoying wife.

The letter in between if thumbs and fingers were the first words from them he had gotten in nearly three months. The letter read as followed...

“Dear Sherlock,

Mary and I have come to my home I grew up in as a boy. I was blessed with my parents merry welcome. However, unfortunate circumstances have designed two coffins. For merely a week into our visit my beloved parents have passed. I have yet to decide whether to bury them in the English tradition or burn them in the Hindi ritual. My predicted return back to Baker Street may appear futile and non-existent. Please. Come visit us as soon as it is convenient.

13, 25, 27, 16, 1, 18, 5, 14, 20, 19, 27, 8, 23, 5, 27, 2, 5, 5, 14, 27, 13, 21, 18, 4, 5, 18, 5, 4.

Your sincere faithful friend, Doctor John H. Watson.”

Plonk!

Sherlock’s eyes raced over the page, and cupped his mouth staring at the plethora of numbers. They were not any numbers. John was a simple man, he wasn’t the smartest being but Sherlock appreciated his humble attitudes, he liked the doctor admitting he wasn’t a world genius, just a man who knew his medicines.

So when an enigmatic set of numbers was written at random Sherlock thought of the most simplistic cypher.

For every number was a letter. 1 being A and 26 being Z, leaving 27 to be a space between a word.

His brows lifted. The message was clear and alarming.

Plonk!

“My Parents Have Been Murdered.”

He determined his dear doctor had written this cryptic message under the desire of secrecy. His eyes lit up. It meant John needed Sherlock’s help. A case. Something was amiss. John did not know the killers name. If he did, he would’ve written it or not bothered to write asking Sherlock to visit at all.

He couldn’t have run faster to his rooms to start backing as soon as possible.

Plonk!

Sherlock Holmes had know idea what he was going to find in a land he had only heard stories from Watson’s childhood. He was eager to see his friend, to help him and to finally have an adventure.

01:35pm Friday 11th July 1890, Anglo Arabic Secondary School, Desh Bandhu Gupta Rd, Ajmeri Gate, Delhi.

You dragged the piece of white chalk across a black board and sketched a simple phrase in the English language. You smiled to the young faces that filled the room, sitting in long benches and desks. Their eyes wide and curious, eager to learn.

You waved your hands, “Now, clean your chalk slates students, you are going to learn how to spell good afternoon in English.”

They wipe them down with their small damp clothes and tucked them away in the groove at the top of their slanted desk. You waited patiently until they all sat with their hands resting flat on the wooden desks, mouths shut, eyes seeking knowledge.

You underlined each letter of the first word, “Gee, ouw, ouw, dee, this spells ‘Good’ and now ‘Afternoon’ is Aya, eff, tee, Ee, Ara, eynnn, ouw, ouw, eynn.”

The young boys sounded it out with you. Their sweet pubescent voices unionised. You smiled. They were so advanced at such a young age, most of the boys had come from average and wealthy families that could afford them to come to such a fine school. Many were Muslim, others Hindu, it was a good sign of peace. The youth coming together despite their differences. And on odd days you would teach the white children, boys and girls of British and French families who wanted their children to learn Hindi, Arabic and Urdu.

You didn’t mind teaching white children, some of the boys could be very disrespectful but you gathered it was behaviour picked up from their arrogant fathers. It wasn’t the young boys who had pillaged these lands, it was their fathers and grandfathers.

“The gee,” you circled the G, “Remember in English is also pronounced like Guh and,” you tapped the double o’s, “Ouw ouw in english together when two is said ‘oooowa’. Followed by dee being said as Dah. So, let’s say it together?”

You dragged a white line under the word and sounded it out with your students.

“Guh-oooow-dah.”

You smiled.

You repeated, “Good.”

“Now let’s look at the word ‘afternoon’,” you announced.

You cleaned the board and looked back at your students. One of the little boys who sat in the front was rubbing his eyes. You smiled softly. He was only six years old. His older brother, a young man now would most likely be the one to collect his brother from school and carry him sleeping back home. You looked at the bell tower just outside the window. It was nearly time for your students to go home and you to return back to your lodgings.

“Aye and eff is said as AAaff, then tee is a quick Tuh! And what is Ee and Arrra sound together children?”

“Errr,” they all purred.

You sounded out half of the word with them, “Aafftuherrr.”

You rubbed your chalk dust covered fingers together and further explained as you pointed to each important letter, “eynnn makes a Na, sound. And we just practiced double ouw, so sound it out.”

Like a symphony of speech, you all said together, “Guh-oooow-dah Aafftuherrr, Na-ooow-na. Good Afternoon.”

The deep bowing clang of the bells outside rang through the yard and open window shutters. The children looked eager to leave. Their hands were readily holding their slates, ready to put them inside the empty wooden box in the corner of the classroom where they kept all their slates and dusters and the bucket for where they kept their chalk.

“Good afternoon students,” You bided.

“Good afternoon Teacher Madam,” They called back.

“You may go back home now. Practise your English alphabet song.”

The boys were fast as rabbits, leaping from their desks and fleeing the classroom out the hall and down the stairs. But some at least saluted you as they left. It was a habit they’d picked up from the white boys who saluted their male teachers. You smiled to yourself as you waved them out. Each left with beaming smiles and playful chatter among themselves.

As you went about sweeping the floor after wiping the chalk from the board, you wondered if you should go to the temple and pray for your students successful education or if you should consider washing your clothing today. It had been very dry today, any moment and you knew the wet season and humid rain would arrive to flood the streets clean of dust and fill the forests with life of green goodness.

As you put away the English education books on the small shelves by the door, a familiar face came rushing in, flushed and excited

If it wasn’t her jingling anklet and bangle that announced her To your classroom, it was her shrill cry of your name that did.  

“Y/N! Quick!” Miss Anjuli Paraiyars exclaimed, “You need to come with me.”

Her dark ink hair was peaking out from her sun patterned veil. The wispy curls stuck to her sweaty forehead and framed her dazzling walnut eyes. They were flooded with mischief that matched her biting lip. Her brows wriggled lightly.

Placing the last book onto the shelf you turned to acknowledge your dear friend.

“Anjuli,” you happily sighed, “Whatever is the matter?”

She waved her hands about, hoping to quicken you along and out the door, “It is the Watson son, Doctor Watson, he wants to speak with you with important news.”

Your eyes widened. ‘What on earth does that poor soul wish to say to me? After the death of the good Mr and Mrs Watson, I would assume he was still in mourning, why would he call upon me?’

Following your friend outside into the scorching sun, you lifted your saree over your head. She had her family Ox and cart waiting outside the school gates.

“What important news Anjuli?” You said a little standoffishly.

“He’s offering you a job,” She said giddily. She climbed up into the cart and leant down offering her hand to you.  Once in the cart side by side she sighed, “That’s all he would tell me,” She grabbed the reigns and cane and tapped the Ox to start moving out onto the dirt road, “But we all know how very generous he can be like his dear parents.”

Anjuli was right. The late Victoria and Hamish Watson’s were angelic to the local community. Victoria had been the very soul to teach your late mother English and she was the one to encourage you to attain education enough to become one of the very few first female Indian teachers. She was a well known philanthropist, often aiding the sick and homeless and funding the Indian hospitals. Hamish was a local accountant, financial advisor and lawyer. He was known to be good to the children particularly. He would often hand out sweets as he walked down the street with his briefcase bag. He often aided the locals find new homes when the British planned to evict them and replace white families in their place. The English couple had lived in the country for many decades, long before you were even born. They spoke fluently enough and mimicked the culture so well that you could’ve believed they were born here themselves.

You sat back and nodded, “May their souls attain moksha.”

02:45pm Friday 11th July 1890, Willingdon Crescent, Central Ridge Forest, Delhi, India.

The sun baked down on the streets of Dehli. The Ox cart rolled along, it’s tail flicking the flies circling it’s flank every so often.

You pinches your saree scarf and covered your face before a bug could fly into your mouth.

Anjuli had to hold the reigns and cane, she leant closer to you and giggled as she nodded to the khaki covered soldiers. Walking by in many small groups.

Anjuli had a terrible habit, she fell in love too easily. For some ungodly reason Anjuli admired the foreigners that had come so long ago and invaded your beautiful country. Maybe she liked how different they looked. The flaxen hair and ice blue gazes in the faces of pale freaks were so opposite to the raven manes and hairy russet warmth of Indian men. It was erotic for her. You just didn't understand how she could so easily find infatuation with the people you considered an enemy, and so should she.

“Oh look at them,” she giggled girlishly.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m looking.” There was a timid strain in your voice. You had no real interest to entertain Anjuli’s fascination.

When Anjuli noticed how you in fact we’re not looking but rather looking ahead on the road path she playfully smacked your arm.

“Look!” She sucked her teeth and teasingly scolded, “Do you not know delight at the sight of men?” She reached forward and abruptly touched the front of your blouse, squeezing around for the softness of your breasts, “Are you sure you’re a full grown woman?” she smiled wickedly and prodded her finger in between your legs covered by your top petticoat.

You squeaked loudly and batted her hand. She howled with laughter and kept giggling even as you scowled at her beneath your veil.

You turned your head away from her and scoffed, “I am not as easily swayed by British soldiers. They look so sickly as pale as they are,” your nose wrinkled, “How could I righteously take a husband in front of beloved Lakshmi and her Vishnu when they look like they tempt Yama too take them at any moment?”

Your friend rolled her eyes, “Oh nonsense,” she tapped your hand and waved her fingers into a crowd of soldiers, “See there that one, his hair the colour of wheat, he is a handsome man. He would make a fine husband.”

And as the cart rolled passed, you couldn’t help gag at the smell of the same man Anjuli proclaimed would make a fine husband.

‘A fine swine perhaps. Many sow in heat could come trotting to him from miles with such a putrid scent.’

Your head wobbled and your flat palm waved at her, “A husbands good qualities are not to stand on his appearance alone. One day he will grow old, fat, bald and ugly.”

A long dragging sigh came out from the woman beside you. She managed to move both reigns into one hand and playfully tugged your saree away from your face

“You’re no fun, come on,” she jerked her chin out to the same street as the ox was about to pass another group, “Tell me you don’t find any of them a little attractive?”

You stared at the oncoming group and now sucked your teeth. You crudely stated, “They’d be far more attractive if they left. Went back to their lands, leave our villages and the people of Bharat in peace.”

Anjuli stared blankly at you. Before she could pinch and prod you again you relented and noticed one of the men in the crowd so different from the others.

He was tall, his hair a dark chestnut that matched the shade of his suit. His face was bare and clean in comparison to the soldiers who all adorned moustaches and muttonchop beards on their faces. He was carrying a rather large brief case and walking stick.

“Fine...that one,” you nodded, “In the brown English clothes.”

“The one wearing a suit?” Anjuli snickered, “He’s not a soldier though?”

You giggled,“And it is for such a reason I find he is most handsome among them.”

You both gazed at him as the ox fully passed by. Anjuli smiled at you.

“He is rather tall. Strong. What do you think he does?” She asked, “Maybe he is a farmer, or a bricklayer?”

You shook your head. ‘No. He couldn’t be.’

“He dresses too finely. It is not their Christian Sunday Sabbath today. He probably is a rich businessman, with a wife and children.”

You looked back to the path as the dusty road became thicker in trees and travel further away from the street. You thought about that strangers wife, what she might look like, probably some English rose with a house full of servants at her command, surrounded by maids and wet nurses for her children. She would live in a grand house and hold soiree’s, welcoming guests from all around to celebrate life. She would have a massive library and a place of worship. It was the life you should’ve had, the life you were owed and denied merely by the changing events of history and the extinguish of your father’s birthright.

Your soft smile faded; you felt a twinge of repulsion mixed with a hint of anger. You’d think after all these years you would’ve chosen to forget this, ignore this, let go and accept your circumstances in this life.... You didn’t live with your father anymore who would remind you practically daily why not to trust the English or any white man, as if you didn’t witness their subjecting abuse and consistent disrespect.

Your eyes fluttered shut, you reached to your side and touched Anjuli’s wrist. She was your truest friend despite her differences and low status. Anjuli came from a Shudra family, and you? You were the daughter, the descendant of Brahims and Kshatriyas...now lowered to the Shudra caste class…You never knew the lavish life of the Jhansi palace, nor tasted the rich foods served on golden plates and surrounded by pretty creatures of the palace menagerie. You would never know the joys of running through the gardens with other children in the royal family.

Everyone was gone, everything was gone. All that was left was your father who scarcely remembered that life but shared all he remembered so his memories would live on through you and bring you hope that one day it would be yours. It was a cruel false hope…

Eighteen years ago, you had been born inside of a nice house in Indore to the daughter of a prestige painter Vasudeoraobhau Bhatavdekar. As far as you knew, your father loved your mother very much for the incredibly brief time that they were married. A rare jewel in beauty is how he described her often. A marriage of love and choice. Your father said she was softly spoken and obedient, but it was her unconditional love for him and his dreams that held his heart in appreciation.

It was by unfortunate command that she would fall ill to childbed fevers after you were born. After you…a girl...not a son. You were nothing in the eyes of the British raj and had no chance of being installed as an heir for any restoration…you were the last hope and failed before your first breath. And that was something you’d never forget.

For a small time, you were raised in that home and then it was decided by your father that you would learn English. His tutors were not available, so he cut your hair short and shipped you off to Delhi with your young uncle Save to the Anglo Arabic Secondary School…It did not take the teachers and headmaster long to discover you were a girl. Before you were to receive the beating of a lifetime it was Mr Hamish Watson who so happened to be accounting the school costs to save you. He took you to his wife who taught you English and then set you to live with his maid servants, Anjuli’s mother.

Your friend spoke after some time of silence, “Oh, I’m meant to tell you- My cousin Vijay sent word this morning, he’s seeking a wife. My mother wants me to ask if you’d like to meet him, a prospective match.”

Your lips curled into a sneer, “Isn’t he the one that use to tie our braids together in a knot during Diwali and chase us around the street making animal noises?”

You recalled a young teenage boy about five years your senior with a tooth gap and ruffled hair. He was so annoying, calling you names and bullying you by calling you fat and ugly. He was spoilt and rude. He mocked you when you told him you were a princess. He said you were a princess of pimple pox and nothing more. Oh how you remembered the way your blood boiled.

“We were children, he was playing, only a boy,” she smiled, “He’s a man now, studying to be a barrister in Bombay but he will be visiting in a few weeks to help us move.”

Ah yes, the dilemma you needed to find a solution too soon. It was a month ago that a letter had been nailed to the house door, it was an eviction commandment made by the British military and government. The Paraiyars family and you had to leave the home in Raisina hill, why? Because the British do what they like…building concrete monstrosities over beautiful land and demolishing the history of your people like it was worthless dust. Rumours spread about a grand governors palace was to be built there, but they couldn’t burn the village to ash with people living inside...well....at least not on their "morally good Christian conscious."

“Vijay I believe owns a cottage near the seaside. You could be his bride and live with him instead of moving back to Indore to your father.”

Moving back was not possible...not after his most recent letter.

“Father has…felt it improper for me to move back to Indore. He believes that my existence would cause me more harm than good under his jailers’ eyes…His pension he shares I give mostly to your mother for board. I have saved my wages, I am considering…moving to a boarding workhouse in Jhansi or Agra, but tell your mother I would like to greet Vijay when he arrives…”

You smirked looking down at your fingernails, “Lakshmi forbid I run out of money and need to resort to the ‘charity’ of Christians or to prostitution.”

Anjuli made a face, shaking her head and brushed her shoulder into yours, “You wrinkle your nose at every man, white, black or bronze,” she smiled cheekily, “I doubt you’d make a good prostitute.”

“Anjuli!” You shrieked.

Both you and her erupted into a large happy shrill of giggles enough to gain head turns from passing public. You and her playfully poked your elbows into each other. Anjuli was right, there was no chance that you could make a suitable prostitute…you hadn’t had sex and didn’t know how to please a man, most men you barely liked. They could be selfish. Anjuli on the other hand, she was a frisky thing. She had kissed a hundred men and given her ‘precious flower’ to a boy back when she was thirteen. She had no shame. Anjuli had shared her sordid tales of lust to you many times. You knew her boyfriends that snuck her out at night and returned her by morning. You promised never to tell her mother or father who surely would’ve disowned her if they knew how promiscuous she was. It was best if they believed she made money with her parents in the markets selling dyed clothes and wooden jewellery boxes.

03:04pm Friday 11th July 1890, 5 Bistdari Road, Central Ridge Forest, Delhi, India.

Arriving to the Watson Bungalow was simple enough, the ox cart rolled and bumped over the rock and sandy grooves of the path. Anjuli pulled the reigns of her beast and helped you both down. She tied her ox to the outside gate posts, the precious creature lowered its head and munched on dry grass that still was hinted in green. The ox would be glad as soon the wet season would hit and all the food delight lush and green would return.

You and Anjuli stepped inside and removed your sandals, Anjuli then led you through the house. It had been some time since you had been here. Anjuli’s mother was dismissed as Mrs Victoria Watson’s maid when the new Watson bride had arrived.

Doctor Watson, their son was a short ferrety man. His face was covered in a long mutton mustache like a snake of hair slithering along his face. He was a grown man from the teenager you had met many years ago. His parents had sent him to Europe to school, as far as you were aware he had join the army and fought in some notorious war battles like The of Battle of Abu Klea.

As you entered the bureau office, you found him hunched over some paperwork, his brows scrunched. His eyes lifted up and brightened his face on seeing you both.

“Oh Miss Paraiyars, Anjuli dear,” he said clapping his hands and opening a drawer in his desk, “Thank you so much dear for bringing darling Miss Newalkar here. Here,” he handed Anjuli a small bag and slipped four rupees into her hand, “and take these sweets back to your Mataji, Mrs Paraiyars.”

Anjuli put her hands together and smiled, wobbling her head before leaving you alone to return outside back to her ox cart.

You had your hands pressed together peacefully while the doctor hobbled over to you from around the desk. He was smiling brightly and nodded his head to you, offering you a chair in front of the desk.

“Y/N thankyou for coming on such short notice. I requested your presence in person to offer you a job position.”

Your smile fell, you sheepishly explained to the man, “I am currently employed at the Anglo school Doctor, Babu.”

The doctor nodded, “Yes…Anjuli tells me you are still teaching the children English and Hindi?”

“Yes Doctor Babu,” you confirmed.

“How much are you paid per month?” he asked quickly, touching his lips lightly in thought.

“Twenty five rupees,” you said softly, you didn’t dare try to sound prideful.

The doctor smiled and pulled out a piece paper contract, he then stated, “I will pay you a hundred per month.”

Your eyes widened, and then narrowed. It was too spectacular to be true, it sounded Impossible. Your fathers pension was only a hundred and fifty rupees a year, for the doctor to give you a hundred per month was unfathomable wealth. What on earth was he wanting from you!?

“What is the position,” you swallowed breathlessly, “Doctor Babu?”

“Housekeeper and…a carer,” he sighed, “I need you to live here, and watch over one of my friends. He is from England and I am afraid he might not understand the customs here.”

He leant against the desk cocking his head and looking down at his feet awkwardly. “Please,” he begged, “he is different to other men. He is particular and perhaps rather spoilt. I need you to make sure he doesn’t get lost, harmed or too upset. It is pressing that I should return to my wife in Agra. I would have hired Mrs Paraiyars, in fact I did offer this role to her, but I have been informed she will be moving and her English is not as it once was…and my English friend is rather…particular and impatient with broken speech...”

He wrote a signature across the bottom of the document and held it out for you to read. It was real…your mouth watered. You could save more than your regular wage and easily move back to Indore without burdening your father or mother’s family.  

“If you accept my offer, you may live here as a free lodging, you recall where the servant quarters are I am sure? You will also receive a handsome budget for food. And-” he paused looking up and pocketing the cheque, he gasped, “Sherlock! Dear god man! Did you walk here from the train station?!”

You turned around in the chair and took in the sight of a familiar looking soul.

He was the gentleman from the road. The supposed businessman with his briefcase. He was taller standing here with you then when you sat above in the ox cart. He was standing in the doorway to the office. He stepped inside and lowered his walking stick and briefcase.

“My friend,” the handsome stranger gleefully called, “My dear John Watson, I came the moment I read your message. One of the khaki coated lads pointed me here.”

Up close now you could observe his features on a better judgement. Sherlock Holmes was well known in the British gazette for his distinct physical appearance. With his broad angular frame, sharp hard features, and mighty frame, he exuded a striking and intimidating aura that commanded respect. He reminded you of warriors you imagined before bed in story's of battles your father described at Jhansi Fort.

His face was marked by a strong, sharp pointed nose and intense, deep-set sapphire eyes. His hair was kept combed and short below his ears short and slicked back, revealing his angular eyebrows, and his pink lips that were tightly pursed. He wore a grand brown suit coat with a crisp white shirt, and woolen sweater vest beneath it. And at the base of his throat was a dark burgundy tie. Something about the time reminded you of blood. A cut throat. You felt cold.

His eyes smoothly shifted to you and your presence, his lips parted softly, he glanced back at John, “A patient of yours Doctor?”

The moustached man bristled and shook his head, he stuttered and leant his hand out to you. you carefully chose to take it and rise from the chair as he introduced you.

“Oh- I- Sherlock…um, Sherlock Holmes, I would like you to meet Miss Y/N Newalkar.”

“Miss Newalkar,” the doctor waved his hand over the figure of the giant stock of a man, “This is the very gentleman I was informing you about. This is my friend Detective Sherlock Holmes.”

You pressed your hands together and nodded in greeting. One of Sherlock’s brows raised and his lips hardened in a straight line.

Doctor Watson explained back to the detective, “I was in the middle of discussing whether this dear lady would like to accept a role of housekeeping during your stay here.”

“Whatever for?” Sherlock snickered, “Is your lady wife not up to par with her duties?” he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his leather shoes while his eyes scanned all the way down to your bare feet. It was a crude look of judgement. The westerner seemed to forget not everyone shared the same styles and habits here. You tried not to roll your eyes at him as he scanned your arms and the parts of your belly that the saree did not cover.  Those dark blue orbs crawled up and settled over your faux sweetened smiling face.

“Some…plans have come up unexpectedly. Mary is back in Agra, staying safe with her family,” John stated, his fingers rubbed together, “I need to be with her. And the hospitals are in desire of my services as a surgeon. I ask that you will look around, see if you can find anything here…” he leant in closer and whispered to the man, “I will visit every couple of days, to check up on you and see if there is truth to be founded in my suspicions.”

'Suspicions?'

“John…” the detective pat his friends shoulder, “I am happy to see you. I promise I will do my very best.”

“Thankyou,” said the doctor.

Sherlock jerked his chin to your direction, “How much does the dear girl here know?”

“Well, I…not much,” the doctor blushed and looked back to you, “Miss Newalkar, your thoughts on the job position role?”

You swallowed and nodded slowly, “I accept the conditions, thankyou for your most gracious offering, Doctor Babu.”

The doctor smiled and carefully touched your back, leading you to the exist of his office as he happily stated.

“Splendid! Please, this is the contract. Sign it and return with your belongings later on a few hours while I converse with my friend and guest.”

You looked back at the mysterious Sherlock Holmes and back to the contract. You wobbled your head in goodbye and went on your way. The way you could feel his eyes over your body walking away made you shiver. He was a intimidateding looking man. You left the home and slipped your sandals on.

You thought about how you would now be the housekeeper of a prestigious British family in the community. A wave of relief to your stability washed over you. You didn’t need to crawl to your father and your mother’s family. You started smiling ear to ear. All you needed to do was take care of a house and baby-sit an Englishman who was vulnerable to these new lands.

“Did you see him go in?” Anjuli smirked from the ox cart, waving you over, “The British man you fancied?”

You jerked your chin up proudly exclaiming, “I met him.”

Your friend gasped with a wide smile, “What is he like?”

“I don’t really know,” you shrugged before waving the contract in front of your friends face, “but I am going to be his housekeeper, I need to inform the school of my resignation.”

Anjuli looked at the contract, she couldn't read english but made a light sad sound and sucked her teeth before sighing, “Oh, those children will miss you dearly.”

And that you could both agree. You grabbed the ox reigns and tapped its flank with the cane rolling back to the school again quickly to collect your last wage.

Helplines:

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this is so pretty

Hellooo! I hope you have a great time exploring India! ❤️❤️

Also, I’m so glad you’re doing a desi themed event on tumblr (it’s so rare to find)

Could I request a meri paramsundari 💃🏻 with Sirius Black please, can you make it about them getting married (desi wedding of course)

Thank you so much!

thank you love !

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫.

join the trip to india !!

This is literal GOLD

make-out closet

Pairing ➳ harrison osterfield x reader

Warnings ➳ fluff, Indian parents 😂

Word count ➳ 667

Summary ➳ hiding from your parents and making out with Harrison? Sounds like a good time.

“H-hurry up! Hide in the closet!” You rushed Harrison across the room towards your closet. He hesitantly walked in finally as you shut the door behind him.

The footsteps on the staircase were no longer audible and now your mom’s voice called out from the hall, “(Y/n)! What’s going on?”

“Nothing Ma, I’m studying for my exams.” You meekly replied, obviously lying. It wasn’t really what you wanted to do, lie to your mother, but you couldn’t exactly tell her that instead of studying for exams you were making out with the hottest guy in the college.

Keep reading

Desi imagines

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

SEVENTEEN

[Seungcheol] : Aashiqui; our love

genre: fluff

[Jeonghan] : tujhme rab dikhta hai

genre: fluff

[Jeonghan] : Eid with him

genre: fluff

[Jeonghan] : Tum se hi

Genre: fluff

[Seungcheol] : Meri Chaand

Genre: fluff

Tum se hi

“Jeonghan one shot”

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x female reader

Genre: fluff [desi setting]

Warnings: no warnings

Word count: 1.1 K

Author’s Note: I am back with another husband Jeonghan imagine, this was actually quite impulsive, and I wrote this at 1 am. I have no idea if this whole imagine made sense or not, but i hope you enjoy reading this small fluff. And i was writing while reading this song, somewhere I felt like this described how much Jeonghan loved her. AND IT’S NOT PROOFREAD

happy reading :)

I walked out of the bathroom and saw, Noor getting ready, more like wearing the red saree. Somewhere I was lost, inside her when she was fixing her saree, and her hair was done with a pretty bun, with her curtains bangs out and making her look so beautiful, as if I was smitten by her beauty. She was literally glowing.

The way her fingers were trying to fix her saree slowly; it reminded me of the day I first saw her in a saree, and she wore a red saree at that time as well. It wasn’t at our wedding, but it was at peheli rasoi. Considering we saw each other in marriage, and the look on her face, made me realize that there was some missing part in my life that I was searching for and I found it right infront of me. The way she looked at me through the flower curtain before signing and saying ‘qubool hai’ three times, was the first time I heard her voice and my heart told me how I would be hearing it for the rest of my life, how I would be waking up to this voice and ending my day with it.

I was still when she moved her hands to fix her pallu, I was still lost in her. She was trying to pin her pallu, but it wasn’t working. I walked towards her, when she looked so focused in her saree.

I held the pallu and she looked at me through the mirror, she looked taken aback, her eyes told me she didn’t expect me to be here. She was about to say something, “let me” and she nodded.

Once her pallu was pinned and she looked at the mirror, my heart almost skipped beat when our fingers touched, she was looking so breathtaking. How does she pull off to look this pretty every time. “and ho gaya yeh” (and it’s done)

“thank you”

“aapke liye kuch bhi” (anything for you) and the smile when she is flustered on her face was something that meant a lot to me. I saw her move her hands to pick up the chain, but I was fast to pick it up. How could I let her do everything when she looked so fine and pretty but mine?

I held her shoulder, and she looked so flustered when I put the chain around her neck, I could say she couldn’t say a single thing because she was very flustered. This was probably the first time I was helping her to get ready, it’s always her who gets ready even before I can admire her in the morning and sometimes I am so thankful for some events or festivals when I see her getting ready in the morning wearing saree or kurti-patiyala or sharara. I love the way she takes my breath away.

“aaj kya ho gaya, you’re helping me today?” (what happened to you today, you're helping me?) she smiled at me, I won’t lie when I say she looks the prettiest when she smiles.

“chain pehena raha hun aapko” I took a pause and told her what my heart wanted to say “Aur itni sundar jo lag rahi hain, thore hi aapko sab karne de sakta hun. Mujhe bhi thori aapki khubsurati ko niharne ka mauka den” she was flustered again. I picked her earrings which were on the dressing table, I helped her with them. Earrings just added lives to my life. If only words could help me describe how much she looked like mine.

I saw the kamarband and picked it up, she was surprised, “Yeh aap kya- I cut her off pulling her waist and then putting the kamarband around her waist. I was too focused on her.

Once I was done, it reminded me how she loved wearing payal and I would definitely want her to wear payal today, afterall she looked so beautiful and I could take my eyes off her “Stay here and give me a second” she nodded. I went to open the wardrobe where I kept the new payal I bought for her. I was waiting for the right time and I won’t get a better time than this.

I went to her and showed her the payal, she almost gasped, “Aapke liye laya tha” (bought this for you)

“Thank you” and her smile was worthless, even millions of diamonds wouldn’t be able to buy her smile, probably because her smile was worth my life.

I bent down and gestured her to keep her foot on my thigh, so that I could put the payal on her. Jab bhi woh payal pehen k chalti thi, mujhe lagta tha meri zindagi chal rahi hai aur mai apni zindagi k samne jhukne k liye bhi taiyaar hun

Once she gave me her feet and I put the payal around her, I got up and looked at her. Admiration was the first thing I could do and it felt surreal that she was mine. Then came love, and she was the perfect definition of love. It felt like my life got meaning ever since she came into my life, her presence was the reason why I was standing here and falling in love with her every second.

I was looking at her eyes and it felt like I was lost in her eyes, her eyes were telling me something with love, we don’t need words to confess or tell that we are falling in love, actions speak louder than words. “aapko payal pasand toh ai na?” she nodded and smiled, “thank you so much” I took a step closer to her and tugged her hair strands and couldn’t resist myself from saying “kitni sundar lag rahi hain aap” She looked at me and gave me a smile.

Oh my gosh. One look at her right now and I realized how much I love her, can she even tell how much I already love her?

God forbid me from falling this hard for her.

I gave her my smile subconsciously while I had her thoughts about how I fell in love with her the moment I saw her behind the flower curtains during our nikah. And how everything she does makes me fall in love with her over again

And in a blink I felt her lips on mine briefly. She ran away even before I could react, my fingers went to touch my lips where she kissed me; I was just standing there processing that she just kissed me like that and ran away even before I could kiss her back.

I ran out of the room, in the hope I would catch her before she could go downstairs, I noticed she was near the staircase and pulled her by her arm, “Where are you running away?” I leaned towards her and kissed her before she could say a single word. I pulled her closer by her waist, she couldn’t just steal my first kiss like that.

Once I let her go, I looked at her, she was way too flustered to speak a single word, so I decided to speak up “I know itni sundar hoke jaa rahi hain, par meri hi hoke wapas aana, meri jaan” and I kissed her once again.

Nothing could describe how much I love her.

Meri Chaand 🌙

SYNOPSIS. This was their first karwachauth after their arranged marriage

PAIRING. husband!choi seungcheol x female reader

GENRE. fluff, established relationship

WARNINGS. Mention of fasting, a kiss, terms of endearment

WORD COUNT. 3.2K

AUTHOR’S NOTE. Can’t believe I am back with this, this was in my drafts for toooo long and finally posting this, well while proofreading I almost couldn’t believe that it was me who wrote this and Seungcheol after all. But here it is, hope you all like this Happy reading :)

TAG. @thepoopdokyeomtouched @aestheticfangirl

I woke up as soon as I heard my alarm, I felt Seungcheol stir in his sleep. I didn’t want to wake him up, I wanted to be as quiet as possible. Somewhere I didn’t want to tell him about any of this, because I didn’t know if he believed this tradition or not.

I woke up quietly and walked towards the walk-in closet, and after choosing my clothes I went to take a shower. I relaxed as soon the warm water hit my body, all the memories, flood in from yesterday. “Do you have work tomorrow?” I nodded, “but it’s work from home. I have to attend a few meetings that’s it”

“Oh, I thought you had an off day” I looked at him, I wanted him to say because it felt like I was forgetting something but then I wanted to hear it from him. “It’s karwachauth tomorrow so I thought…” he trailed off, and then it clicked in my mind, maa told me about this today morning before I left for work and even told me about the sargi. I don’t even know if he believes this or not. “Oh, no we don’t have off because of karwachauth” he nodded. “All good then and you can tell maa if- his words were cut off because of a call he received. I was getting sleepy either way, I didn’t wait for him when he walked out of the room to talk.

I don’t believe in all these traditions and saw my mom doing everything every year, till last year but there was something inside me, where I wanted to keep the fast.

I got ready and went downstairs, I saw maa already setting the sargi, “Nishita?” I smiled at her, I took her blessings but she held my shoulders and hugged me. “Are you sure?” I nodded, “Here’s your sargi,” She asked me yesterday about the fast and I agreed.

“Eat this before the sunrise.” I nodded. I was about to go towards the room but then the thought of Seungcheol getting disturbed and then asking me so many things, hit me so I didn’t go to my room. “Can I eat it here in the living room?”

“You don’t want to go back to your room?” I shook my head, “Seungcheol is sleeping and I don’t want to disturb him. He came late and then I don’t know when he came to sleep after he received a call at 11:30 pm yesterday.” She held my cheeks and smiled, “You care for him so much Nishita” I smiled at her. “Everyone deserves some rest and I have work from home today so it’s fine for me, but he should get enough rest” She kissed my forehead, “He is lucky” I smiled.

I ate my sargi and once I was done, I went to keep the plates in the sink. Despite our arranged marriage, I always wondered how would things turn out after marriage, he gave me the personal space whenever I needed, and he never forced me into anything, things were changing, it’s been nine months after our marriage already, and for me, things were slowly changing. The care he showed even without asking me was something that always got me. And the least I could do for him was to fulfil the traditions I should do as his wife.

I looked outside and it was already sunrise, and I looked at the clock, it read 6:33 am

I went back to my room, well aware of Seungcheol’s alarm of 7:00 am. He usually works out in the morning for like one hour, so it’s his time to get up. I went to take out my laptop, to check everything for the meeting I had to attend. I was holding my Mac and walked towards the bed, and I was surprised to see Seungcheol awake, “Nishi?”

“Seungcheol?”

“You’re already awake?” I nodded at his words. His eyes went to the laptop I was holding, “do you have a meeting now?”

“No, but I need to check a few things before the meeting because I would be talking to the client mainly.” Another reason was to distract myself today and I wanted to ask him why was he awake, since it wasn’t even 7 am yet. He looked lost, and we were just looking at each other, more like staring at each other.

“Subah ho gai?” I nodded

“Umm, good morning” I looked at him and replied, “Good morning” We didn’t do this usually, what’s gotten into him?

“I will go get ready.” I nodded and kept my Mac on the night table. Once he went towards the closet, I fixed the bedsheets and went to sit on the bed with my Mac.

I saw him walking back with his sweatshirt on, I looked at him, “I am going for workout” I nodded at him. I was checking files, then it hit me. It was already 7 am and I had to make breakfast.

I closed my Mac and went downstairs, I saw maa already inside the kitchen, “You’re here?” she looked at me, “Yes, how could I not help you in making breakfast?”

“But you don’t have to do a lot of work today because in the evening we have to do the preparations. So don’t stress too much and you’ve two meetings today.”

“It’s fine maa, and making breakfast is a daily thing, why an exception today?” she looked at me and smiled, “You’re just so beautiful”

“what were you planning to make today?” I asked her, and I went to wash my hands, “something Seungcheol likes” I turned my head to her, “something he likes?” she nodded, “do you want to cook something else?” I shook my head, “he likes Sabudana Khichdi aur Rawa Uttapam” She smiled at me, “Let’s make both and Sangyeon wanted to eat Sabudana ki kichadi yesterday, so I soaked Sabudana overnight, already” I saw, the bowl and went to drain it, “you can cut the vegetables for uttapam, I will do this.” She nodded and once drained, I dry-roasted peanuts, I personally didn’t like peanuts but he did.

Once done, I started making it carefully, and to my surprise, today it turned out nicely; I looked over maa, and noticed she was almost done with the chopping and preparations for rava uttapam. “Maa, let me do this”

“You already made Sabudana” I looked at her, “it’s fine. You can go and check up on others, I can do this. I don’t have any work right now as well” She gave up after I insisted, for some unknown reason I wanted to make breakfast today maybe because I was very relaxed and had no work or I was just bored.

It didn’t take a lot of time to cook for everyone, I was almost done and then I heard maa “Go and call Seungcheol, it’s breakfast time” I kept everything and nodded at her. “I will set the table for everyone.”

I went to our room and I saw Seungcheol buttoning his white shirt, I shook my head and sighed. Doesn’t matter how many times I told him not to walk like this, infront of him but he is like ‘It’s my house, I can walk however I want, I can be naked anytime I want’

His strong scent filled the whole room, I walked towards him, “Breakfast’s ready, maa is calling” Once he was done with his shirt, he took out the tie. He looked at me, “help me?” I sighed and took the tie. Despite his height I managed to help him with his tie, unknowingly today I noticed, we were standing way too close, his breaths were hitting my collarbone which was making it difficult for me to focus on his tie.

“And you’re done” I took a step back and almost stumbled back, but he was quick to hold my waist and pull me closer, “Be careful Nishi” his voice was deeper than usual, the moment he let go of my waist, I let out the breath I was holding.

“Let’s go for breakfast, it’s almost time.”

“I have to leave, I have a meeting” I turned to look at him, “meeting?”

“Yes, I was supposed to tell you yesterday but when I came back to room, you were asleep.”

“But I made your favorite...sabudana” I almost whispered the last word.

“I’m sorry, I’ve to leave” He went out of the room and I followed him, almost disappointed but then I understand, him being the CEO and doing everything. I knew he had work but skipping breakfast? It’s something he never did and rather always tells everyone else that they shouldn’t skip their breakfast.

“Seungcheol” both of us turned to look at maa, “aa jao khane, Nishita ne pyaar se banaya hai aaj”

“Aaj nehi maa, meeting hai.”

“Lekin, Nishi ne bahut pyaar se banaya hai”

“Maa, it’s okay.” He turned to look at me, he had apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry” I shook my head and gave him a tight smile, “it’s okay, I get it.” Whereas this was the first time he was skipping breakfast.

He went out in a hurry and I looked at Sangyeon and papa, enjoying breakfast. Sangyeon was almost taken aback when maa informed that I was fasting today.

*****

After I was done with the meetings, I looked at the time, it was already evening. I was getting sleepy and tired, I heard a knock on the door. “Are you done for the day?” I looked at maa, walking towards the bed where I was sitting. I nodded, “all done”

“Good, everything’s almost done, I wanted to inform you that, there’s a ritual which is followed in our house, which is you have to wear your wedding saree today.” I nodded, “okay I will get ready”

“Once you’re ready come downstairs.” I nodded.

I looked at the time, it was already 6 pm which meant Seungcheol should have come by now. I shrugged off the thoughts and went towards the walk-in closet, to check my wedding saree.

After searching a bit, I found my saree. I took everything out and went to change. After changing into the saree and fixing everything perfectly, I looked in the mirror and started getting ready. I wore my kajal and eyeliner. I applied liptint and once I was done with my hair, I looked at myself and smiled. I picked up my earrings and wore it. Somewhere my mind was stuck with Seungcheol, why was he late? Would he make it today when the moon will come out? Did he believe in this?

I was skeptical about everything, and him leaving early today, and missing breakfast was something I never thought I would witness. I knew the meaning of the fast, it was for his wellbeing, and it didn’t matter if he believed it or not but I was unsure myself…now

I tried to smile looking at the mirror.

I was ready, so I went downstairs and there I saw the way everything was kept and decorated; “Nishita, come here” I went to sit beside maa, we had to decorate the kalash and other things, once everything was done and kept in the thali, we had to go to the terrace

The moment I stepped on the terrace, I was getting anxious, because there was no sign of him yet.

**********

SEUNGCHEOL

I looked at the time, didn’t matter how much I wanted to have coffee, I resisted eating or drinking anything today.

I don’t know if Nishi believed in all these traditions but I wanted to keep the fast for her; I didn’t believe in these until she came to my life. There was something about her which always told me to believe everything, let it be god, fate or destiny.

I felt at my worst when I told her I wouldn’t be having my breakfast, knowing she made my favourite and the disappointment on her face was visible. The whole day she was stuck in my mind, I knew how much karwachauth meant for my mother, I always admired her for all these; not knowing I would be doing this one day for my own wife.

woh vrat nehi rakhegi toh mai rakhlunga, that’s what I told myself.

Once I was done with all the meetings and everything, I walked down to the basement to drive back home. I looked at the time, hoping I wasn’t very late.

The moment I reached home, I saw no one downstairs, were they on the terrace already? I came across Sangyeon who was already wearing a kurta, “where’s Nishi?”

“Bhabi?” he looked at me, “She’s with maa on the terrace. You should go and wait for the moon, it’s almost late bhai, what were you even doing this late” he walked past me.

I went to our room and saw, my kurta set on the bed, “did Nishi take these out for me?” I was about to call her but I remembered she wasn’t here, she was with maa.

I changed my clothes and got ready. I went to the walk-in closet and took out the payal I brought for Nishi, more or less this was our first karwachauth and how could I let it go like this?

I kept them inside my pocket and went upstairs.

The moment I reached the rooftop, I almost stopped my steps when I saw her turning around to look at me, she was wearing the saree that she wore at our wedding, I could never forget the look on her face.

Right now, she looked so pretty, with her half-braided hair, pretty earrings, pretty eyeliner, her golden chain, and her mangalsutra. The way she looked right now, I was ready to keep all the fasts for her, so that she could shine brightly like the moon in my dark days, I wanted to give her all the happiness she deserved, she didn’t deserve to shed a single tear in her life. And I was here to make sure she received all the happiness.

 I walked towards her, almost in surprise; she was holding the thali which had everything.

Once I was standing infront of her, she gave me a tight smile, “I almost thought you would be very late”

“And here I thought you didn’t believe in any of these?”

“I didn’t believe in these but felt like you believed in this and I had faith in you” She almost whispered those three words which were enough for me to hear. “Chand dikh gaya” she hurriedly, put her pallu over her head, she looked so beautiful, just the way she looked that night, when we were getting married. Nothing could compare to how beautiful she looked.

She lit up the diya, then kept the diya on the sieve then while looking at the moon through the sieve she poured the water from the kalash. I watched her do everything and somewhere my heart wanted to capture the moment forever, the adoration and dedication in her eyes told me something else. She kept the empty kalash on the other side and then turned to look at me through the sieve. I was looking at her through the sieve, and I was lost in her eyes.

Her eyes always pulled me closer to her, there was always something in her that pulled me closer and made me fall in love with her, they say marriages always happen if there’s love but then how would anyone explain this? I fell for her the moment I saw her in saree at our wedding. The way she looked at me told me, already that I fell for her. The admiration on her face was nothing compared to billions of diamonds. She was the most precious diamond I ever had.

She gave me a smile through the sieve and she was about to keep the sieve on the other side but before she could do that, I held the sieve and looked at her, she was taken aback.

“Seungcheol?” I smiled at her

“I found my moon.” She was surprised, I could say she never thought I would do this.

“fast rakhe ho?” I didn’t reply to her and I heard my mother, “Tu manta bhi nehi tha yeh sab, aur aaj kya hua?”

“Chand mili hai mujhe apni, toh itna karna toh banta hai na agar isko hamesha apne paas rakhna hai aur aise hi chamakta hua dekhna hai toh? Meri chaand itna toh deserve karti hi hai maa” She looked lost. I couldn’t tell if she was surprised, or was overwhelmed, or taken aback.

Once done, I took out the diya from the sieve and kept it on the thali, and the sieve on the table. After that, she did the arti, and I was smiling throughout the time, she looked so beautiful even with the light of the flame. I took the kalash from the thali and I helped her drink the water and broke her fast.

“Ab meri baari jaan” that last word just slipped out of my mouth unknowingly and I was almost flustered, but nothing compared to how flustered she looked.

“Seungcheol?”

 “Vrat Rakha hai, paani pilaogi tabhi tutega” she smiled at me and helped me drink the water.

She held the thali and fixed the pallu, and before she could bend down and touch my feet, I bent down and touched her feet. She was taken aback, well I have seen my mother do this to my father but here I wanted Nishi to give another place in my life.

I took the gulab jamun from the thali and gave her a bite, she took it from me and gave me a bite.

“Now one more thing, you deserve” She looked at me confused, “Ab kya baaki hai?”

“Fast bhi rakh liya mere liye, aur kya chahiye mujhe?” I bend down and patted my thighs, “Kya?”

I took out the box and showed her the payal, “Aaj hamara pehela karwachauth hai, toh yeh meri taraf se, ek chota sa taufa” she extended her leg and kept the feet on my thigh, I didn’t care if everyone in our family saw us, this was supposed to be our moment but couldn’t help if this because the public display of affection.

Once I put the payal around both her feet, I kissed her feet lightly. I got up, “thankyou so much” The urge to kiss her was getting high.

My hands cupped her cheeks, “pata hai kitni pyaari lag rahi ho aaj” she smiled at me.

She smiled at me and stole my heart again.

“Aise smile na kiya karo, jaan leni hai kya meri?” this was the first time I was this open with myself and my feelings, my feelings were taking over me.

“Maine kuch bhi- before she could complete her sentence, I kissed her.

I closed my eyes, and pulled her closer. Her lips tasted sweet because of gulab jamun, but I didn’t mind, I liked the taste of the kiss and her lips. I pulled back lightly and looked at her, before she could say anything, I kissed her again, “I love you” I said in between our kiss, “this is probably the first time I confessed and I mean it”

Love and religion fought. We lost.

PROMPT. “we tried we tried so much, but in the end we lost.”

PAIRING. Joshua x female reader

GENRE. angst

WARNINGS. Mention of blood, mcd, different religions, gun

WORD COUNT. 2.6K

AUTHOR’S NOTE. Finally I am here with this fic, I battled so much before posting, I don't want to offend any religion and I know it's a sensitive topic but I wanted to write it so bad. And since I decided to write angst for 13 members long ago, here's the first one. And angst being my favorite genre till now I tried doing justice to the fic, and since it's a bit of desi setting, it's a win for desi readers. Hope you like it. And I would be tagging people/readers who commented in that post earlier hehe ^^

Happy reading :)

TAG. @thepoopdokyeomtouched @aestheticfangirl @scarlet789 @nobraincellmode @woofie-nctzen-fanarts

Seventeen as angst trope

“You’re looking so pretty” I looked around, and saw my family members coming towards me and applying haldi on me, I looked at myself and saw myself wearing a yellow sharara, I saw my sister coming towards me and hugging me tight. “Hope you stay happy always like this, even after marriage” and somewhere my emotions were lost the moment someone told me this, I couldn't even recognize the voice at that point.

“Shua, I want to wear different outfits for all the ceremonies but too sad, you won’t be able to see me.” I smiled at him and he just laughed and pulled me closer in his embrace, “But you’re going to be my wife, so I would get a lifetime to watch you wear your favorite clothes” and he pinched my nose playfully. “I want to get married twice, one in all the traditions we follow and another one in your way. I don’t want to miss out on wearing a white gown and kissing you infront of everyone.”

“I’ll fulfill all your wishes, my love.”“I love you so much, Joshua”

“I love you too meri jaan” and he smiled at me once again, his smile was something that healed me every time.

“You look pretty Mishka, he is so lucky” and my mom kissed my forehead, I tried to look at her but somewhere I just couldn’t look at her at all, not after all this.

Everyone looked so happy and seemed like they were enjoying it every second, I tried to smile at them but I failed terribly. There was something wrong with me because I couldn’t express my emotions anymore. I failed to show them how I felt, as if my mind wanted to show them but my heart refused to do anything. It was the sign I lost, we lost.

“I would be the in-charge of the decorations, I want everything to be golden.”“You surely love the golden colour a lot Mishka” and he laughed and it was melody to my ears, “Yes I do and I love one more thing” he looked at me confused, “You” and I kissed him.

“You just know how to steal kisses.” And he pulled me closer by my neck and kissed me again. Every time I kissed him, I kissed him like it was my last kiss and I loved the feeling so much. I want to kiss him till the time I can’t kiss him anymore and I want to remember how he felt.

“Joshua”

“Yes, love”

“Do…you think…”“Think?” he was looking at me and I was feeling nervous, I wanted to say it loud, but he suddenly cupped my face. “What’s wrong?”

“I should tell them about us, it’s been eight years… already” “Mishka” he kissed me again and then looked at me, “if you want to tell your parents about us, you can. I’ll be there with you. We will go and talk to them, they will accept us.”

“Mishka, your mehendi looks so pretty” I turned to look at the person doing my mehendi, and here I wanted to put his initials. “And it’s done” The moment I looked at my hand, I saw the way my hand had someone else’s name’s initial, a stranger whom I don’t even know. I wanted to run away, but two things stopped me, Joshua’s thoughts and then my own family’s reputation. If I wanted, I could’ve taken a step and ran away already, but Joshua’s thoughts stopped me from doing anything.

It was raining and I ran outside, “Mishka, stop” I wanted to dance in the rain. “You’ll fall sick Mishka” For once I didn’t want to listen to his words, he always tells me I will fall sick but then he is the one who takes care of me so falling sick is worth it since he’s with me.

He suddenly came and picked me up, “Shua, oh god”

“I love you so much Mishka, I can’t explain. I want to marry you as soon as possible and want to make you mine officially.” I smiled at him, he had never confessed to me like this directly, and for marriage. He puts me down and looks at me, “Mishka, do you want to marry me?” I smiled at him, “And what makes you think that asking me like this would change my answer?” he looked nervous, “If I don’t marry you then I don’t know what will happen” “And I can never see you being someone else’s, so if you don’t marry me, I will die.”

“And I will never let that happen” and I kissed him. Losing him was never an option for me. He was my everything, he found me when I was left in the dark, and he was there for me when I was alone. And if I don’t get to be with the person I love the most, I have no idea what will I do ever in my life.

I parted and looked at him, “So will you marry me?” I nodded, “Yes, Joshua, I would be ruining my life if I said no to you” and he kissed me again under the rain.

I looked at myself, wearing the red lehenga, and I didn’t know how to respond to any of the fact, that I was getting married and my thoughts were interrupted, “Di, someone came to see you-”

“Mishi”

I turned to look at Joshua, Mishti was standing near the door and then there was Joshua beside her, “I would be leaving di, just know I am here for you.”

He walked towards me and hugged me tight, “Mishka, I can’t” I wanted to hug him tight, but my hands refused to move, no matter how much I wanted to hold him tight and cry in his embrace, he was home for me. He parted and cupped my face, “Mishka, let’s go. Let’s leave this place”

“Mishi, this is not what we want, it’s against our wish, let’s go. You’re not happy, I know it Mishka. I will take you somewhere you don’t have to suffer alone.”

“Joshua…”

“What happened Mishka? I am here for you, just for you. Let’s go, I know we can’t end like this.”

“Joshua, jo hona tha woh ho gaya, ab kuch nehi kar sakte hain, mere haatho me zanjeeren hai, koi reha nehi kar sakta aur.” (Joshua, we can’t do anything now, it’s all done, I am tied with shackles in my hand, and no one can free me anymore)

“Mishka, was it a lie?” and I had no answer, I couldn’t tell him directly, that, they told me they would kill him, if I went back to him.

“Maa, please listen to me once. Maa please” I was banging on the door but no one was listening to me, I wanted to run away. I want to run away from here and never come back. My tears were falling like no tomorrow.

“Mishka one more word and you know what can your dad do.”

“Maa, no. You won’t do anything. YOU CAN’T DO THIS!! Maa!!” I was banging on the door and then heard her unlock the door. The moment I saw her face, I started crying more, I wiped my tears and the moment I was about to say something hoping she would give me a chance to speak but she slapped me hard. She locked the door and dragged me towards my bed and pushed me there.

“One more word and Mishka-

Enough was enough, how could she do this to her own daughter?

“What was his fault? What was my fault? We just fell in love”

“Mishka you better- I wanted to scream, but the moment our eyes met, she shouted “Do you not know your dad? Do you not know what are the things that means a lot to your dad? And fault? We let you study outside and you do this to us?” “What did I do maa?” I walked towards her, my tears didn’t want to stop, they refused to listen to me for the first time. “If falling in love is a crime then yes, I did it. I DID IT” and another slap, “you are going nowhere and you are breaking up with him. You will leave him and get married to the guy we choose for you, who is right for you.” She was about to leave, but then turned back to look at me, “You don’t remember your limits? He’s a guy from a different religion and we are never saying yes to that. We can’t allow you, and remember society and reputation are everything for us.”

“Maa-” “Give up Mishka, I am against it. And don’t even think about running away, because I’m warning you again, your dad can go to any limits to separate you from him.” and that’s when I understood she wasn’t even joking, they can kill him, kill us anytime they want.

“We can’t Joshua” And I never told him the exact reason, because knowing him, he would not even regret telling me, he wanted to be together with me, didn’t matter if he stayed or died.

“We still have time, if you want we can run away right now and no one will get to know, we will go somewhere far” I took a deep breath and shook my head, clearly knowing what is going to be the consequence if I take this step, they will hunt me down and kill all of us.

“Joshua, we can’t”

“Joshua, we can’t be together, please move on from me.”

“Mishka-”

“Joshua.”

“Mis-”

“Joshua, we can’t, they will kill us. I CAN’T DO ANYTHING.” And that was the moment, I couldn’t hold back anything, if I knew I was going to be a coward for all my life then I wouldn’t have started any of this at all. I can’t even be happy with the person I love.

“And I had to choose, to see you getting killed or give up on us. And I choose you to be happy, happy without me.”

“Uss din se hamare saari bitaye lamhein, uss yaadon ke kamre me band ho gai” (that day all moments we spent together got locked in the room of our memories)

The moment he walked away from that room, I felt my heart shattering each second and into millions of pieces. I was the one who chose this for myself, letting go of the person whom I loved the most, even more than my own life. My choices in life were the ones which made me suffer the most but falling in love with him was never a choice, it was like fate and a string that was pulling me towards him and I went on with it.

I looked towards the door, from where he left, and saw Mishti coming inside, “Di, it’s time to go. Everyone’s waiting for you.” I took a deep breath and she hugged me tight, “Di, I hope he will understand” I hugged her tight, if only I could tell this to myself, but marriage? It’s the bond that holds two people together and there’s no turning back from the promises that would be made. “He can’t and so do I. I can’t make myself understand anything Mishti. I am hurting the person whom I love the most and it’s hurting me more.”

From there I don’t even remember how I walked down the aisle and I was already sitting beside the person with whom I was getting married, my face had no emotion. I couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone else. “Mishka, bring your hand forward” I was trying to focus on whatever was going on, but my body wasn’t responding to any of the words; I barely heard what maa said. I didn’t want to bring my hand forward, if I brought my hand and kept my hand on his, it would bind us forever in this sacred bond. “Mishka” Once more I hear her saying my name.

“Mishka” the moment I heard my name again but this was a different voice, I looked straight. I thought my eyes were deceiving me but I saw him walking towards me “You look so pretty Mishka, I always imagined you wearing this bridal lehenga, and look at you, you look so pretty but one thing I never imagined was, you wearing this and getting married to someone else.” and I couldn’t process anything, “you look so lovely Mishka, it feels like one of my dreams came true, partially I am so happy I got to see you in this.” I never interrupted him, but his voice was getting shaky, something which never happened to him, “Your parents came to visit me, they told me, they would never say yes and in the end, you chose them” “I am asking you for the one last time” and I could see the desperation on his face, “Take my hand and let’s runaway. I can’t see you getting married to someone else” he stopped, not very close to me and not very far from me.

There was silence, I almost couldn’t say anything, I wanted to say yes so badly but my whole family was holding me back, all the moments we spent together were flashing in front of me. I took a deep breath and was about to speak “Josh-”

“Looks like your silence and hesitation gave me the answer. Mishka, I love you so much that I can never explain in words, but one thing I can never do is, tumko kisi aur ka hote dekhna, I can never do that. I meant everything I told you that day.” He took out a gun and pointed at himself, and my reflexive action was to stand and run towards him, “Love and religion fought. We lost. We tried we tried so much, but in the end we lost. I will love you forever” And he shot himself, even before I could reach him, and his lifeless body was lying infront of me. I fell on my knees, I was holding his body, I tried shaking him, but there was no response, I wanted to hold his hand. The blood painted him and painted me red, I couldn’t see anything anymore. “Joshua, Joshua please wake up” I was shaking his body, I couldn’t do anything anymore, “Joshua, please wake up, let’s go”

I felt people coming towards me, all the emotions I was holding back, my tears came out and I was crying, I couldn’t stop.

“Mishka” and it was my mom, she was trying to pull me by my arm, but this time I pulled my arm back. I was holding Joshua’s hand and looked at her. “Dekh liya kya kar diya, khushi mil gai aap logo ko,” my mind wasn’t working anymore, “Losing yourself is better than losing the person you love and I saw the love of my life killing himself infront of me do you think I am in my right mind right now.” I grabbed the gun, “Mishka leave that”

“Mishka drop the gun”

“Mishka, don’t”

But all I could hear was his voice, his last words telling me he loved me. My ears were hearing his voice, my eyes never moved from his body. The fact, that the golden kurta he was wearing was now painted in red. I was going feral with each passing second, I was dying each second. I closed my eyes for a second and looked at my maa papa. I saw someone dragging Mishti away from me, I loved her but I loved him as well, he is alone, and he has no one here right now. I couldn’t leave him alone like this when he never left me.

“Ab iske baad jo bhi hoga uske jimmedaar baas aap dono honge, baas aap dono” (and whatever happens after this, two of you are going to be the reason, just you two) I was pointing the gun towards them and I could hear all the screaming and shouting but everything slowed down and in a fraction of a second I pointed the gun at myself and I pulled the trigger.