have a fabulous year ahead, i hope and pray that may you get everything your heart desires, thank you for being the bestest, the sweetest and the loveliest, i love you so much! 🥰🫂❤️
- @written-in-ishq 🎀🩷
here's our hubby jaskirat for you 🫠🔥💗
MY LOVE!!!!!!
Thank you so muchhhh🥰🥰🥰 you’re da best (I’m crying fr)🥹🥹
Nervousness. Something you’re feeling right now as you march towards the classroom. Something you haven’t felt for teaching. Well, this nervousness isn’t for teaching, it’s the recipients of teaching, more specifically, a recipient, Jaskirat Singh Rangi.
He hasn’t left your mind and heart since the day before yesterday. Since he showed his family picture to you. Since he indulged in your humour. Since his gorgeous face got close to yours. Since he kissed you like it’d last forever. Since he didn’t let go off your hand after bidding you goodbye.
That was the day before yesterday. You’re going to see him for the first time after that night, your lectures happen on consecutive days. You know it was most probably a one-time-and-you-never-mention-it-again kind of thing. That it’s not right to think about him so much. Not when he’s getting trained to go on a mission which will go on for indefinite years, which he may never return from. But the way he treated you wasn’t fleeting, wasn’t something to be brushed off.
You’re not stupid, you know not to get your hopes up or even expect anything. That’s why the nervousness. It’s because you know you’ll teach normally, like you always do but you don’t know if you can look into the set of green eyes and move past them like you did before. A soft exhale releases from your parted lips in order to release some tension before you enter the class.
“Thik hai, aaj ke liye itna kafi hai” you end the class, starting to gather your books, your hands working faster, wanting to leave before the class empties. Fortunately, you lead the lecture as you regularly do. Unfortunately, your heart skipped a beat every time your eyes met Jaskirat’s. Even when you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his eyes on you making you realise you can’t handle being alone with him again for now.
A few trainees are still leisurely packing their stuff by the time you’re done. Your eyes dart to the usual desk Jaskirat occupies, watching him engrossed in his book. He must’ve felt your gaze on him, his eyes lift up catching yours, his gaze softer now that the lecture was over, your fingers clutch the books tighter in your arms, sudden wave of nervousness hitting you again. You dart out of the class before his eyes could convey all that wasn’t yet addressed.
Later that night, in your bed, Jaskirat’s eyes flashes behind your closed eyes, you wonder what he thought today. Was he feeling jittery as well? What did he think about that night? Does he feel something when he looks at you? Does he know you’re avoiding him? Does it bother him? These thoughts swirl around your head, you shut the down by one fact - he has hundreds of things to worry about, he doesn’t have time to think about a kiss, with this reminder, you doze off.
The next lecture goes smoothly, the trainees now able to write a few simple sentences in Perso-Arabic on their own. “Ma’am” a voice calls out to you when you’re smoothing out pages of the book you brought, the class almost empty. Looking up to see a student holding out a piece of paper in your direction, “hogaya likhkar” he says. He had asked for some more time while you were going through other’s submissions. You’re not really supposed to go easy on anyone considering this is training for highly important missions but forming and writing in a new language is difficult so you give grace sometimes.
“Thik hai” you stretch your arm to take the paper from him, the paper slips before you can grab it though because you see Jaskirat being dragged by some of the other guys by his shoulder passing by your desk. Great, now you’re getting distracted by him. Before you get a chance to bend to pick up the paper, the paper is already offered to you again, this time by Jaskirat, who stopped to pick it up for you.
Your eyes look up at him just to catch him already looking at you. You never knew your heart could get so weak for someone that it speeds up at the mere touch of their fingers against yours. “Shukriya” you try to keep your voice as stable as possible, his ardent gaze making it difficult for you to look away. A pat on his back by someone standing next to him to get him to leave the class with them makes him look away from you, your fingers press into the wood of the desk, holding in a sigh of relief at the lifted weight of his gaze.
He leaves with others, his neck twisting to look at you once before exiting the class. He knows you’re avoiding him, not that you’re doing a great job being subtle, rushing to wrap up after the lecture ends like a coward. You’re not sure why you’re avoiding him at this point, at first, it was because you were nervous to face him, now, there’s still some nervousness to face him but a bigger part of you is avoiding him because you’re not sure how to be alone with him now that you’ve felt his touch, not sure how you can resist reaching out for him in some way. You’re just human, after all, humans are so complex yet so simple.
Today’s lecture went well, except, you weren’t able to rush your way out after the lecture the way you’ve been for the past few lectures, because you were stopped, by Jaskirat. “Mujhe ek doubt hai” he had called out just as you were about to dart out of the door, knowing you won’t ignore him while 2 more students were still in the class, about to leave. You’ve been following the routine of avoiding him since a few lectures now.
By the time Jaskirat reached your desk, the others had left, leaving you alone with Jaskirat in the class, what you’ve been dreading for a while. Clearing your throat, you ask “kya doubt hai?”, opening the book you used today, eyes skimming through pages, avoiding eye contact with him. His hand grabs a hold of the book, takes it away from you, “mere sawaal ka jawab iss qitab mein nahi milega” he answers your questioning look. “Kya sawaal hai?” You ask a bit hesitant, eyes blinking up at him, your nails picking at the cuticles, a nervous habit of yours.
He leans towards you a little, the desk acting as a barrier in between, “main class mein accha nahi kar raha?” His face is still as it always is even while asking a question. Your eyebrows furrow quizzically, not understanding the root of his doubt, “nahi, aisa kuch nahi hai. Tum accha hi kar rahe ho, tumhari progress kafi acchi hai” you assure him. “Toh..” his hands brace at the desk as he leans closer to you, “tumne kaha tha ki tum toppers se baat karti ho, par ab tum mujhse baat nahi kar rahi ho, isska matlab yehi hua na ki main class mein accha nahi kar raha, topper nahi raha?” Your stomach drops at the indirect confrontation.
You’re at a loss of words in front of the man who usually speaks less, “Jas-“ you start, but he breaks you off “kyu? Sacchai ka samna nahi kar paa rahi ho?” Leaning closer to you, “ya galati samajh rahi ho uss shaam ko?” He stops once his face is close enough to yours, you gulp at the closeness. You feel shortness in breath once his words process in your brain, he’s insinuating that you’re a coward, you sort of are, but not for the reasons he thinks, he has the nerve to assume that you’re labelling that encounter as a mistake, the same encounter that hasn’t left your mind since it happened.
A frown starts forming on your face, “Sacchai? Sacchai main tumhe batati hu” you assert, “main koshish kar rahi hu normal rehneki. Tumhe ek normal student ki tarah treat karneki, kyu ki uss shaam jo hua voh galati nahi thi par usske aage kuch ho bhi nahi sakta humare beech. Isiliye try kar rahi hu ki jo hua usse peeche chodkar aage badhu” you basically say in one breath, the pads of your fingers press his shoulder to create a little distance, feeling frustrated. “Aur tum toh aise sawaal kar rahe ho mujhe jaise tumhe bohot farak padta hai-“ you’re not able to complete your sentence because his fingers wrap around your wrist, “farak padta hai” his tone not rigid anymore, smoky green eyes looking into yours trying to convey everything words can’t, making your stomach churn but this time with adoration and anticipation.
“Ye zindagi meri nahi hai” he states, “Meri jaan meri nahi hai, desh ki hai. Bhul chuka tha main, kho chuka tha main khudko, lekin tumne mujhe yaad dilaya ki main abhi bhi Jaskirat hu, yehi hu” his fingers slide up your palm, intertwining with your fingers, making your breath hitch. “Main tumhara nahi ho sakta” his words should hit like a blow, but it doesn’t because you already knew this, although his words carry bitter truth, his eyes show vulnerability, losing it’s usual sharpness. “Kuch waqt hi hu yaha, fir pata nahi kya hog-“ you cut him off, “Jo bhi hoga, abhi tum yaha par ho. Mere sath. Itna kafi hai” making sure to hold his eyes, trying to convey that if the present is all you get from him, that’s more than enough for you. He doesn’t day anything, he doesn’t need to, you’ve learnt by now that he expresses in different ways, like right now the way his fingers tighten around yours speaks more than his words could.
His eyes move to his watch, “meri chemistry class hai abhi. Mujhe jana hoga” he exhales, his breath fans your face due to the proximity, you nod not trusting your voice.
“Jaskirat” you whisper after a few seconds? Minutes? You’re not sure. At the mention of his name, his breath pauses a beat before it gets back to normal. “Mera hath chodoge tab chemistry class jaa paoge na?” You question in mock seriousness, your head tilting a little to the side. You involuntarily smile at the way his eyebrows furrow in confusion because he didn’t even realise he’s still holding onto your hand. He untangles his fingers from yours, you watch his face morph into solemnity that seems to be a constant for him.
Sighing, you pick up your abandoned books, preparing to leave after him, only to find him staring at you, not having moved an inch. “Kya hua? Tumhe jana hai na?” You ask in confusion, “late hona allowed nahi hai, jao jaldi” you urge him to leave, knowing that all trainees are given military training and the basics of military is discipline, punctuality.
He then moves, not towards the door, but around the table towards you, “kya-“ your words get caught up in your throat at the feeling of his lips gently pressing against your forehead, so gentle and quick that you could’ve easily missed it in a blink. He’s out of the door at the same speed, confident enough to be affectionate with you but shy enough to face you afterward, you feel yourself flush a little, never having imagined he would be so sweet.
6:30 PM, the wall clock of the library reads when you look up from the book you’ve been reading. Mentally cursing yourself for losing track of time, you keep the book in its designated shelf and prepare to leave the facility for the day.
A crashing noise from a room you’re passing by stops you, turning in its direction to find it ajar, the soft patter of your footsteps towards the door echos the passage due to no one being around, pushing the door open, your eyes blink in an effort to see clearly in the darkness of the room. Once your vision adjusts to the dimness of the room, “Balidan” printed on the back of the Para SF T-shirt in Hindi catches your eyes. The owner of the T-shirt turns around at the sound of the door creaking with a gun in their hand. “Jaskirat?” You question in a whisper. Realising that it’s just you, he turns his attention back to the gun in his hands, not even acknowledging your presence. Wow, you scoff, and to think that this is the same man who wanted your attention a few hours ago.
“Main principal se shikayat kar sakti hu ki tum akele yaha guns ke beech ho” you declare walking into the room, propping yourself on an empty table, watching him shuffle around to check different guns. “Principal?” He questions, still not facing you, “Sanyal sir” you breath out a laugh. He doesn’t laugh, you’d be crazy to expect a laugh from Mr. Intense himself, but his shoulders visibility relaxing are enough indication that he appreciates your humour.
“Tum ab tak ghar nahi gayi?” He asks, his fingers skimming the pistol he is currently checking out, “library ki ek qitab padh rahi thi, waqt ka andaaza nahi raha” you answer, you chin resting in the palm of your hand. He hums in acknowledgement, you start talking about the book you read, he won’t admit it, but your ramblings provide him the kind of comfort he doesn’t think he deserves but basks in it anyway. You continue talking about the story, adding how a character in the book reminded you of your brother who is serving in the army.
His head shots in your direction at this, “tumhara bhai hai army mein hai?” This definitely is his topic of interest. “Haa, usski posting east mein hai. Ussi ne recommend kiya tha mujhe apne senior se. Main uski tarah desh ki seva nahi kar sakti par jo kar sakte hai unki madad kar sakti hu, isiliye yaha sikhane ki jimmedaari li maine” you smile remembering your brother, “yaad aati hai bhai ki?” he asks in curiosity, eyes shining, maybe he’s thinking of his sisters. “Aati hai” you begin, “bohot yaad aati hai. Par jaise tumne kaha ki tumhari zindagi tumhari nahi, desh ki hai, vohi baat hai” you let out a sigh, “toh maine bohot pehele hi khudko present mein jeena sikhaya. Kal kisne dekha hai?” You finish rhetorically, reaching in your bag for a photo of your family taken few years ago in your wallet, “mera bhai” you point to your smiling brother in the photo.
Finally abandoning the guns, he struts towards you, stopping once he’s right in front of you to look at the picture. His mouth twitches, “pyaari lag rahi ho yaha” his eyes pointedly looking at younger you with messy hai, you fake gasp, shielding the photo from his vision by keeping it back into your bag, “ab pyaari nahi lagti?” you counter playfully. He moves in your space subtly, then you feel his hands hover over your legs, you help him by part them yourself to make space for him, you heart rate picks up at the proximity.
“Humesha pyaari lagti ho” he whispers, his hands bracing above your knees, head dipping to level with yours, his beautiful eyes softening as they gaze into yours making your fingers fist at your sides. The moment his forehead rests against yours, suddenly it gets harder for you to breathe. “Tum..” you trail, “serious lagte ho, humesha” you finish, your fingers gently brushing over a small healing scar on his cheekbone, watching his eyelids flutter at your touch.
You internally celebrate the crooked smile he gives you, it doesn’t last long because he charges forward catching your lips in a kiss knocking the air from your lungs. Your fingers tangle in his hair at his nape, you let out a breathy moan when his tongue invades your mouth. His hands move from your legs to your waist, fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes as he pulls you towards him.
Your heart races at his muffled grunt against your mouth after you tug his hair gently, as a result of which, he presses himself more into you, warmth spreading through your body. His lips tail warm kisses down your neck having parted from your lips, his beard tickles your skin making your breath hitch.
Suddenly, he freezes in the crook of your neck having, his erratic breathing fanning your skin, your eyebrows furrow in confusion before the hushed voices of Sanyal sir and Bansal sir from outside reach your ears. Jaskirat heard them before you, you hold your breath as their voices fade in distance.
Your body relaxes in his hold once it gets silent outside, exhaling a sigh of relief. Jaskirat still hasn’t moved an inch, although, his previously tight grip on your waist loosens. You feel a laugh bubbling at the base of your throat at the situation. He pulls back to face you, trying but failing to keep a straight face, chest rumbling as he lets out a chuckle, your heart filling with adoration seeing the glint in his eyes.
Resting your forehead against his chest, you revel in the rhythm of his heartbeat, his arms circle around you, enveloping you in his warmth, resting his chin over your head.
You don’t usually dwell on future, leaning more on being in the present, but feeling his lips place a kiss on the top of your head makes you wonder how life would be with him under different circumstances. Maybe in another life, you’d have more time together.
Note: Hiiiiii!!! As previously mentioned, here’s the last one🥹 it didn’t make sense to me that this was just sitting in my notes so the ending might seem rushed😮💨
Babyyy!! I'm crying okay genuinely. I LOVE you and this place will not feel the same without you, EVER! i remember reading into the dar and waiting eagerly for it😭😭😭
Rearview mirror will always be cherished price of literature for me.
I will miss you so much, you were one of the inspiration why I started writing for this fandom 😭😭😭😭 I'm genuinely so grateful for you and would remember you always (jassi wala promise to aalam bhai 😭) however I understand that interest could wane and real life can be shitty sometimes and we don't get the time to give time to things we love.🩷
You'll be missed and loved and everything in between! If you ever do decide to come back (it's totally alright if you don't then hmu)
Aur agar aapka koi aur blog hai yahan toh mujhe dm mein bataa dein!
I-😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Stop stop I’m crying
First of all, thank you sooooooo much for being so supportive and expressive💕💕💕💕 me being an inspiration is crazyyyyyyy but I’m so glad because your writing is so awesome, I feel like I’m in a different world, it’s THAT GOOD😩😩
I will always remember you as well, you’ve been kind, fun, loving and genuinely a nice person🥹🥹 I love you so much🫂🫂🫂❤️❤️I’m crying, no joke😭😭😭
This blog is the only one I have and I won’t be deactivating it so you can reach out to me here whenever you want, love❤️
Hi everyone! Just wanted to say that I won’t be uploading Dhurandhar stuff anymore (or anything else for that matter, I guess?). As all good things come to an end, so has my time in this beautiful fandom😔
I won’t deactivate this account or delete anything, so the fics I’ve posted will still be accessible to anyone who wants to read them. Since I was already working on a Jaskirat fic, if I do work on it further and complete it, I’ll upload it. If I do, that will likely be my last Dhurandhar related post. I’m leaving my anons open for a while in case any shy peeps want to say something. I’m not quitting Tumblr, just “resigning” from this lovely fandom and reducing my Tumblr usage🥲
I’ve had so much fun for the past few months💕 everyone here is so so so damn sweet, I will miss y’all so much omg🥹 I had a ball time reading fics, seeing all the memes, theories, thirsting on these men, etc with y’all🤭 all writers here are talented af, seriouslyyyyyyy!!
Lastly, I hope everyone here stays healthy and happy because y’all deserve it (it’s bare minimum) and may y’all achieve everything you’re working towards❤️
GUYS!!!! I took pictures of my sister on my phone and she asked for my phone to go through those pictures so she could select the ones to airdrop to her phone and I passed my phone to her and OMG I DIDNT REALISE I HAVE SO MANY RANDOM JASKIRAT PICS IN MY GALLERY so while she was scrolling, she saw a few and literally gave me bombastic side eye 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Boyfriend ke pictures pakde jaane ki umar mein Jaskirat ke pictures pakde jaa rahe hai😭😭😭😭
Hence, proved that Jassi is my boyfriend, he just doesn’t know it yet😭😭
Hi!!! I don’t really interact with a lot of people here (introvert hu yaar) so I’m not close to many but I do interact on some of the posts that I come across and in the comments section of my posts. The point of this post is that I’ve dropped and will be dropping an appreciation message in some people’s inboxes because we’ve had enough of negativity going around so if y’all see me in your inbox, don’t get annoyed😛😂😂
