Fan Fiction

DURGA ASHTAMI- SHIVIKA OS (NILASH)

(A/N: Basic idea credit of this story again goes to my dearie ARPITA, she wanted me to write an OS which includes steamy Shivay and Annika in rain, but I changed that a little and included my favourite Durga Puja theme along with rain. I hope I did justice to all her expectations. 

Before you all start to read :- Dearies, this is a hot OS which I tried to write in the most aesthetic way possible. Please do give this OS a read and let me know all your opinions about it.)

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“Jayanti Mangala Kaali….” holy Durga Maha-ashtami pushpanjali mantra echoed through the walls of the huge Saundara Mansion. Big house in Kolkata that belonged to Oberoi family. Moments, memories and love is still afresh in the walls of this huge house that transformed to home when the newly wed Shivay-Annika and family stepped inside the mansion to celebrate Durga Puja. Being the most romantic and loving husband Shivay had to fulfil the wish of his wife which was celebrating Durga Puja in Kolkata. She was desperate and excited to feel the vibes of bengali puja and he fulfilled it, as he does always.

“Annika… where are you… pandit ji is calling us for the pushpanjali, we need to go down” Shivay climbed the stairs searching for his bride.

“I am here Shiv… getting ready” she quickly answered pacifying his heart.

‘She was getting ready… for him…’ this single thought was enough to rise the beats of his heart.

“How much time will you take” he slipped inside the room uttering the words huskily to receive the most pleasurable shock of his day. Immediately he locked the room and turned forward.

“Go out… I…” she failed to complete as the pallu of her saree remained stuck inside her fist without covering that for what it was meant for.

“You are looking breathtaking” he neared her very slowly with tingling sensation creeping up on both the figures.

“Go out Shivay” she requested bowing the head down and clutching the pallu while turning her back towards him without even realising that she was standing in front of a mirror.

No words were getting registered and he neared her more colliding his chest with her burning back. Red blouse complemented her white and red tussar silk benarasi and the neck-piece hung perfectly over her mangalsutra adorning her neck.

‘Thunder’ just one sound and she let go of the pallu and hugged him tight, turning towards him. Her hands clutched the punjabi as tight as it could.

‘Thunder’ the sound repeated making her pull him much closer to ensure that they were together and safe.

“I am here… don’t be afraid” his hand soothingly caressed her back to calm her down.

“Don’t leave me alone” she requested listening to another thunder sound.

“I won’t leave you… never… ever” his hands were electrifying her skin.

The fear was long gone and a special magical different feeling stayed back. She wanted it more… and more… and more. Rain dropped down from heaven with the flow of cool breeze that cooled the two burning figures but the fire surpassed the breeze and the burn was creating the magic… yet again… and again.

“I love you Ann…” she felt her Shiv’s lips touching her hair partition. The strength of replying back got lost and she melted and it flowed to the eternity with the rain flow.

“Let me love you…” he said pulling out of the hug.

Her head was still bowed down and her breath was erratic, her breath was slow and fast and jumbled up. He caged her face and pulled it up.

“I have lost myself when I first saw you wearing bengali saree in their special pattern, and I want to confess that it is always a pleasure to worship you as mine, it is always a pleasure to love you but now… now it is the rain… the thunder… the atmosphere and the smell of shiuli which is making it delightful to see you… to feel you… as mine… my love… my wife” his voice… his choice of words and the volcano inside her heart mixed up everything perfectly.

“I love you Ann” he repeated placing his lips over the door to her soul… her eyes.

“You are not only special but you are the goddess of my life” his breath fanned over the joining of her brows as he traversed from right eye to the left one. Her brows shivered under the hot breath. Her eyes felt to tear up and her heart felt full.

The closed pair of eyes, shut more tightly on those feathery touch and the intoxicating smell of his breath. She was lost… she was so lost in his doings that she forgot to realise that the breath traversed up and he kissed the spot right above the skin between the joining brows. Slowly… very slowly his lips traversed down to her cheeks without loosing the contact over her facial skin.

“I love you” he repeated it again pressing his fingers over her waist.

‘Thunder’ yet again she pulled him in a hug, the fear of loosing this special moment, special feeling and special him crawled up to her heart once again.

His stubble pricked her skin and she pushed his head more towards her nape.

“Love me Shiv” she said forgetting the puja, forgetting the pushpanjali, forgetting the outer world.

She was made for him from heaven and today heaven too wanted their pure union… once more… his hand gradually started to loose the hold over her waist when his eyes fell on the sindoor box, he pulled apart and faced her to the mirror, her face showed the burning red glow, her fingers clutching her saree and she looking down… trying to pacify the rhythmic beats syncing with his he fell for her again. The sindoor took place between his fingers and he perfectly filled it up… where it belonged. But he had more to do… to her.

The sindoor along with his finger traversed the length near her belly button colouring her all over in his own colour of love. Red was always the colour of love for them… but now… it became the colour of pure magic too. He circled his finger around her belly button, tickling her and marking his name over her. ‘SHIVIKA’ he wrote with love near her belly button and kissed over her head closing his eyes.

“Shivay” the sweet sound ignited them.

Listening to it, his lips captured the blank space over her nape. Her hand travelled up towards his hair and clutched it, more tighter than ever.

‘Thunder’ heaven had another plan of melting them with its flow. The sound of rain, smell of incense stick and the sound of dhaak pulled them close.

The love savoured every inch of her nape to neck. The hold over his punjabi tightened with every loving touch that he was showering over her. His eyes fell on the sindoor which was glowing brightly and he felt proud, proud to be the man for this impossible woman. He blew over the dusty red sindoor and it smudged, resulting it’s fall over Anika’s nose. His eyes captured how her lips travelled up in contentment and her breath raised to fall back and then again rise. His finger touched the tip of her nose to clean it but she held his finger.

“Don’t” she whispered confusing him. She read his expressions and answered.

“It is said that if sindoor falls over the tip of your nose then it proves that your husband loves you a lot” she blushed and he… he was proud as always to mark her as his, claim her as his and love her as his.

“I love you a lot” he assured kissing over the tip of her nose.

“I know Romatic Singh Oberoi” she managed to form sentence hardly as her legs turned jelly under his ministrations.

His azure eyes lovingly captured her brown ones and before she realised, she was in his arms swaying in air and he was nearing their bed. His stare over her face and her stare back on his face was enough indication for the environment to increase the rain flow, increase the sound of dhaak and cover them in pure love. Her untouched lips felt him touching it… very slowly and then letting it go.

For nano seconds she missed his lips over hers, but then it was back again. She was calm and he was attaining the pace of rain flow. The calm ocean beneath the vigorous flow of rain quivered feeling the magic. He looked at her burning physique, love you woman… he thought and placed his lips over the red name ‘SHIVIKA’.

The saree rested happily over the floor beside his punjabi, making them smile in intimacy.

“Let me worship you” last sentence before he touched her intimately and possessively.

His lips did not miss a single part of her skin as it traced every mount and valley.

His eyes looked everywhere, very deeply… with love speaking through the vision.

His fingers curved and curled randomly over her curves… down and up.

They shuddered and trembled… together.

Sweet voices got suppressed under the increased sound of rain and dhaak but they stayed glued to each other.

They loved each other, worshipped each other… through thick and thins.

They celebrated Maha Durga-Ashtami in their own way of celebrating love.

“I love you Shiv” she kissed over his cheek.

Rain was slowing down to hold back and hide the magic, smell of shiuli and incense stick spreading the feel of puja and worship thickened and the dhaak playing different notes made the environment pure… more pure as they glued much closer resting their head together and came down from their own high.

“We must go down now” she got up.

“I worshipped my goddess” he answered kissing her nape.

“We need to worship Maa Durga” she distanced herself feeling back her legs.

“I need to worship you” he pulled her suddenly resulting her fall over the bed and he climbed over.

But time had other plans.

“Bhaiya… bhabhi… come down for pushpanjali” Rudra’s baritone made them remember… the pushpanjali, the puja, the outer world.

Both of them shared a smile and got up. He dressed her up while she dressed up him. They walked down… hand in hand with the glow of love… of worship… of contentment.

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Meanings of the bengali words used:-

Durga-Ashtami- Eighth day of Durga Puja in which ‘ASTRA’ (weapons) of Maa Durga is worshiped.

Pushpanjali- Offerings of flower to Maa Durga to worship her.

Punjabi- A bengali clothing, much like Sherwani but Punjabis are less gorgeous and more comfy as compared to sherwani.

Sindoor- Vermilion

Dhaak- Much like dhol, but it is played using only one side of it’s face while dhol is played using both it’s face.

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I hope you all enjoyed this. A very very HAPPY DURGA PUJA to all and specially the Bengalis and a very very HAPPY NAVRATRI to everyone. Enjoy to the fullest and please stay safe.

Please do hit the like button and leave your comments down. I would be waiting for all your response.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING

-NILANJANA

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