देखा था नफ़रत की निगाहों से,
छुआ था अपने ही दिल की आहों से।
Every word I write is a piece of my soul—raw, real, and unapologetically mine. If my stories made you feel something—ache, blush, heal, or breathe deeper—your support helps me keep going. With your love, I don't just create... I build worlds. Thank you for standing by this journey—brick by brick.
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* Spread your legs for me* "You want to escape from your past, but I want to get trapped between your legs. You want to stop crying over your old wounds, but I want to make you cry in pleasure. You walked into my lecture hall with wide, innocent eyes, dissecting hearts in the lab, oblivious to the fact that you had already carved mine apart. *Thrust* You spoke of the apex of the heart… *thrust* and I wanted to trace yours with my tongue… *thrust* just beneath your left n*pple… *thrust* … while you moaned my name. I was a man of discipline, a professor who thrived on logic and restraint. But with you? Restraint was never an option. My pleasure had always been a selfish pursuit. Now, it has a name. A face. A taste. And it’s you. Only you. So don’t run, little one. You were never meant to escape me."
Stories? In this world, some are full of laughter, love, care-with the comfort of knowing someone is always there for you. Some dive deep into love and pain, walking through heartbreaks, betrayals, and separations-sometimes even for the sake of love itself. But no matter where they end-together or torn apart-they all begin with something sweet, bittersweet... a first meeting, a first word, a first glance. Keya and Saanjh's story? It wasn't like that. It held every emotion a story could carry, but it never began with sweetness or even bitterness. They never spoke for each other, never heard each other-yet their souls worshipped one another. It was a tale born of silence. A love soaked in heartache. A separation that didn't feel like pain... until it became one. Until it was too late. Twelve years have passed since they last saw each other. Keya? She never heard her Saanjh's voice. She never knew his favorite color, his favorite flowers, his favorite everything. She only listened to his eyes. She only saw his prettiest smile-not the scars it hid. She only called him by a nickname, because she never got to know his beautiful name. She never heard his favorite song-only his nickname became her favorite melody. She never touched his presence-only the air that had touched him, made her feel like she did. Fate? Destiny? Life? They have many ways-cruel, poetic ways-of replaying the ghosts of love. And today, after 12 long years, they're going to cross paths again. But time has changed everything. She is no longer the 18-year-old Keya. He is no longer the 20-year-old Saanjh. They might not even recognize each other now. The memories are fading... But the moments from that one month? Still printed on their souls. She is no longer a coaching student-she is a healing therapist. He is no longer a boy lost in dreams-he is now a talented CS engineer. But Jaipur is waiting. Waiting to pull Saanjh back to where it should be -to her. They met in a city full of chaos and ambition-Sikar, the land of dreams in Rajasthan. Maybe they won't recognize each other now. But their souls will. They will feel everything again-like they used to feel 12 years ago. Their story had no spoken beginning. No words. No touches. Only stolen glances-yet those glances now hold each other's souls. The story that was left unwritten... is writing itself again. What will be the destination of this love? No one knows. Even fate stands in dilemma: Will it end this story as it was once written, or will it kneel before their devotion? Before their prayer- A prayer that never got a chance to be heard, A prayer that never touched lips, Never held hands, Yet lived in the spaces between two souls- who came to live in love, not just love in life. ~°•♡♡♡ "The Day She Found Her Saanjh" ✿✿✿
A Dark Romance She once healed bodies. Now she fractures souls. Nyx Morrigan was never meant to fall. She was meant to rise, scalpel in hand, savior in a white coat. Until betrayal dragged her into the shadows—until obsession made her reborn as something more powerful, more feared. They stripped her title. They forgot her name. But she left behind a promise, written in blood: “I will be back.” Jareth Voss is a man feared by empires and untouched by love. A pharmaceutical king cloaked in control. But even kings bow to the grave—and Nyx is no longer a woman. She is the coffin he’ll climb into willingly. Their connection is not love. It’s something darker. A hunger. A madness. A war where the only mercy is destruction. In the end, only death can own him— and she wears death like a crown.
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