about me: mai, 21, dms open for girls n gays, i write mainly nsfw n occasional sfw, bare in mind im fairly new so ignore any mistakes etc and most importantly im hamza ali mazari’s/fawad khan’s wife 𑣲⋆
disclaimer: MDNI. i don’t proof read bc i cringe n all my work is completely fictional, not in line with real-life events/movies, or romanticise the real individuals. contains out of character depictions and no spy au’s. my writing isn’t intended to disrespect or spread hate towards religious, cultural, or patriotic beliefs of any individual, community or country. i will never encourage/promote hate or tolerate it on my blog. ℳ༯
I hope you are having a good day/night. I'd love if you could read and give feedback on my dhurandhar fanfic..no pressure if u don't feel like reading it. Thank you!!
Here is the link- https://www.tumblr.com/sarcastic-ravenpuff/818150848762888192/lessons-in-lyari-road?source=share
hi babe! thank you for sharing it, i’ll definitely read it at some point 🫰🏽🤍
PSA to fic readers, it is so hard to freak a fic writer out with your comments. we are just as crazy about the fic as you are.
tell me you love it. tell me it made you slam your laptop shut. tell me you brought it up at your college lecture about kink. key smash in all caps. quote the passage that made you think. i promise, we’ll love it.
we spend hours thinking about it, writing it, editing it. there is no such thing as over enthusiasm when you’re talking about our fics to us. we are sooooo weird about them, i assure you. you are just matching my freak. the freak bar is already set so high. feel no anxiety about enjoying something and letting the creator know.
some people are really looking so hard for some morally correct excuses to harass other people and be bullies, and then they wonder why fandom becomes toxic and no one wants to post their fics or art anymore. it's just pathetic.
fanfic writers and fan artists do not owe anybody anything
summary: saved from the turbulent waves as a child, your and your loved ones survival comes at a monumental price when a demonic entity returns to claim your flesh.
word count: 7.4k words
warning: mdni
author’s note: this is a gift for the love of our lives, the apple of our eyes, our fluff kween, the cutest bbg everrrrrrrrr @mainyahaankyunhoon ❤️🥰💋🫂
"Ahhhh!"
A frustrated groan tore from your throat, echoing sharply within the cramped confines of your small bedroom as you jolted awake with a start.
Your skin was slick with a cold sheen of sweat, your pulse hammering frantically against your ribs like a trapped bird, and your heart thudding so violently it threatened to leap out of your chest.
Panting heavily, your eyes scanned the darkness, frantically searching the perimeter, but you saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. The overhead lights were off, the heavy curtains remained drawn tightly against the outside world, the windows were left slightly ajar to let air in, and the door was firmly locked.
The only light came from the bedside nightlamp, its soft, incandescent glow casting a shadow of warmth across the space, silently attesting to the fact that only one living soul occupied the room.
You.
Yet, despite the solitude of the space, an oppressive weight hung in the air, and you couldn't shake off the terrifying feeling of a strange presence. The phantom sensation of something moving languidly over your bare skin.
A shapeless shadow had been hovering directly over you just a split second before you woke up suddenly, leaving you thoroughly drained and completely out of breath.
It was a harrowing phenomenon that had become far too familiar to you now, a haunting cycle that had been on a torturous repeat ever since the day you were finally discharged from the hospital.
Your body ached acutely, but it wasn't the mundane soreness where muscles cramp and stiffen after a long, gruelling day of work, nor was it the heavy, dull exhaustion that creeps over the limbs after working tirelessly into the night.
No, this was an entirely different, intoxicating ache.
The kind of deep, throbbing soreness that leaves you utterly spent, weakened at the joints, yet simultaneously makes you desperately seek out more of its forbidden, agonising pleasure.
Driven by a restless compulsion, you threw off the sheets and moved over to the full-length mirror, your bare feet dragging as you forced yourself to look at your reflection.
The girl staring back at you through the glass was undeniably you, and yet, she was subtly different, altered by some unseen hand.
The youthful roundness of your face had miraculously smoothened, leaning out to sculpt your features into a sharp, hauntingly beautiful heart-shaped face. Your eyes, though heavily adorned with dark circles born of sleeplessness, sparkled with an unnatural brilliance in the soft light of the lamp, while your lips appeared distinctly fuller, swollen and flushed as if they had been meticulously pricked and plumped by a thousand nano needles.
Your trembling hand rose, fingertips touching your lips to feel the unnatural warmth pulsing beneath the surface, before slowly tracing a path down to your collarbone to feel the constellation of fading marks blooming across your skin. They were bruised and darks marks which you had desperately tried to brush off as mere insect bites during the day, though the truth felt infinitely more sinister.
But as your gaze drifted downward, it was your flimsy, worn kurti that instantly caught your eye.
A wet patch was spreading over your breasts, soaking through the baby blue cotton kurti until the thin fabric became almost completely transparent, clinging directly to your skin.
Through the damp cloth, the dark shadow of your areolas and the pebbled peaks of your nipples peeked through clearly, bared to the cold room.
Your mind raced.
A dampness this specific could not possibly be due to regular sweat.
Though the exact nature and origin of this mysterious dampness remained a deeply unsettling mystery, your eyes strained against the dim light to inspect the flesh, trying to see the faint marks encircling your areolas, looking closely as if something, or someone, had bit and sucked you right there while you slept.
An overwhelming wave of heat crashed through you, and your hands involuntarily rose to cup your own breasts, your fingers trembling as they brushed over your overly sensitised nipples. The mere friction of your skin against the damp fabric sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your cunt, and a moan escaped your mouth.
Suddenly, breaking the stillness, a violent gush of angry wind tore through the room. The sheer, sudden force of the gale almost knocking you over.
The icy air seemed to swirl and coil tightly around you, caressing your body. The invisible currents slid over your skin with such intense warmth that it made you squeeze your eyes shut in a breathless cocktail of pure bliss and paralysing terror.
The air grew dense, heavy with an invisible mass, and it suddenly felt as if a multitude of unseen, possessive hands were trailing everywhere over your body at once.
You could feel the distinct pressure of phantom fingers raking over your breasts, squeezing them firmly before sliding down the arching curve of your spine, gripping the backs of your legs, and mapping out the contours of your hips and stomach.
The touch was burning hot against your chilled flesh, and then, you felt the unmistakable sensation press directly between your legs, right over your cunt.
The touch shattered your resolve, your knees instantly buckled beneath your weight, and you collapsed forward as you let out a loud, uninhibited moan that echoed off the walls.
The jarring sound of your own voice, so utterly ruined and full of wanton need, shocked you to your very core, jolting your eyes wide open.
You sharply turned your head, chest heaving as you looked around the small bedroom once again, desperate to catch sight of your invisible tormentor.
But there was absolutely no one there except you.
The room was entirely empty, and the violent wind had stopped just as suddenly and inexplicably as it had started blowing, leaving the air completely dead and still.
Yet, your bedroom now smelled overwhelmingly of salt-laden sea waves, a thick, briny scent that hung suffocatingly close to the floor. This was deeply unsettling and very strange, because your house was completely landlocked, with no beach, ocean, or body of water anywhere near your neighbourhood.
Shaken to the core, your mind spinning with a terrifying mixture of arousal and dread, you took deep breaths to compose your racing heart and steady your trembling limbs.
Forcing your weak legs to move, you made your way back to the safety of the bed, the damp cotton of your kurti chafing delightfully against your sensitive skin.
You crawled under the covers, pulling the heavy blanket all the way up to your chin to shield yourself from the cold, and stared blankly up at the ceiling, your eyes wide in the dark as the briny scent of the sea washed over you in waves.
As your eyelids finally drifted shut, plunging you into a restless sleep, your mind began to replay the tragic trajectory of what your life had ultimately come to.
Growing up as the cherished only child to your doting parents, you had been loved, protected, and adored beyond what any mere words could possibly describe. The world was entirely at your feet, and you existed as the centre of their universe.
This idyllic existence remained unbroken until a cruel twist of fate changed everything forever.
Your parents harboured an almost magnetic love for large water bodies, and every single weekend without fail, they would take you to the beach to play by the shore.
Your father, in particular, was often inexplicably drawn to the water, a trait that he had passed down to you.
One fateful afternoon, while you were relaxing at the beach with your parents, completely engrossed as your mother helped you construct an elaborate sandcastle, your father decided to head out into the surf for a swim, just as he usually did.
For a while, everything appeared entirely normal and serene, but then, with terrifying speed, the weather abruptly changed.
The sky darkened aggressively, bruising into an ominous shade of black as if midnight had suddenly claimed the afternoon, while the ocean currents rose violently high, and a torrential downpour started pouring from above as if the heavens themselves were weeping in mourning.
Before either you or your mother could fully react to the danger, the treacherous sea had already decided to engulf your father entirely within its merciless arms.
Desperate to save him, your mother ran headfirst into the crashing waves to rescue her husband, and you, crying out in terror, blindly followed your parents into the raging water.
The few people who were still left at the beach ran along the shore after the two of you, the alarmed life guards calling loudly after your mother to stay put and to not endanger herself like this, but their warnings fell on deaf ears.
Before the guards could reach you or your mother, a towering wave washed over you both, swallowing you whole into the depths.
You were drowning, your small, frail limbs flailing about uselessly against the crushing weight of the ocean as your lungs filled with chilled, briny water, making you choke and cough violently as more water rushed into your airways.
You had just started to lose consciousness before you suddenly felt scaly, long, and immensely strong arms wrap protectively over your small body, pulling you tight and swimming with supernatural speed towards the churning surface.
As you weakly opened your eyes for one fleeting second, the only thing your fading mind registered was a pair of glowing, hypnotic blue eyes looking deep into your soul before you completely lost consciousness.
When you finally woke up on the shore, gasping for air, you were met with the devastating sight of the divers retrieving the lifeless bodies of your mother and father from the surf.
Even in the grim finality of death, their natural instinct had driven them toward each other, and so their pale bodies lay heavily on the wet sand, hand in hand. That was how your parents left the world together, leaving you behind, completely alone at the tender age of ten.
In the wake of the tragedy, your paternal uncle and aunt, tried their absolute best to provide you with the same love and affection, as your presence became a healing anchor to their childless twelve-year marriage.
However, fate was not done testing your resilience.
Four years later, a sudden shift occurred when your Chacha and Chachi were miraculously blessed with a baby of their own, Bilal.
The subsequent change in your household dynamic was not loud, but rather the quiet, insidious kind that broke your heart a little more each passing day, your sense of belonging bleeding away drop by drop.
Your Chacha stopped dropping you to school, your Chachi stopped packing your favourite food for your school lunch, and the chocolates you liked so much suddenly became dismissed as an unnecessary, frivolous expense, while new clothes were only ever bought for you at Eid as a customary habit.
Eventually, you were asked to vacate your room and shift to the cramped guest room, under the guise that two-year-old Bilal desperately needed his own space. But the real pain settled deep into your chest when, from being their cherished "hamari pyari gudiya," you were stripped of your endearments and became, simply Y/N.
But what is fate if not entirely cruel, yet strangely kind in the most unexpected ways?
The very person whose innocent existence had brought about this painful neglect in your life soon became the only saving grace of your entire world.
Bilal, your little cousin and brother, felt less like a relative and more like your firstborn child, possessing a sweet nature that was always far too cute to ever resist.
You vividly remembered how your Chachi, burdened by the duties of motherhood, always tasked you to wash his baby bottles and change his diapers. Oh, how you utterly hated that exhausting, thankless task back then.
But you also remembered one specific evening while you were changing his soiled clothes, when the chubby, beautiful boy suddenly caught hold of your index finger in his tiny hand, squeezing it with all his infant strength while looking directly up at you with a gummy smile.
That singular, innocent gesture was more than enough to completely melt your heart and bind you to him forever.
Another memory surfaced from a day when you had just returned home from school, when a ten-month-old, crawling Bilal curiously reached out for your colourful water bottle on the low table. The heavy bottle accidentally fell, hitting his delicate hand, and his piercing cries instantly egged your Chachi to scream and yell at you for no fault of your own.
Bilal, seeing the hot tears streaming down your face from the harsh reprimand, immediately stopped crying himself and crawled his way straight into your lap, cooing softly at you as he tried to wipe away your tears with his small, chubby hands, an act of empathy that only made you cry out even more.
Over the years, the constant neglect and emotional trauma had taken a severe toll on your mental health, resulting in you developing a binge-eating habit as a coping mechanism, which caused you to gain a noticeable amount of weight.
The extra fat accumulating on your body only made your image conscious Chachi harshly restrict your diet and police your meals, solely because they didn't want the financial hassle of finding a willing groom for a chubby, undesirable girl.
Yet, whenever the house fell silent, a five-year-old Bilal would sneak into your darkened guest room at midnight, carefully hiding chocolates and stolen gulab jamun from the kitchen fridge, whispering that he wanted his Y/N aapi to share the sweet treats with him in secret.
Just a few months ago, when your Chacha had flatly refused to pay for your college field trip, little seven-year-old Bilal, acting like the self-appointed 'Man of the House,' proudly brought out his plastic piggy bank and handed it directly to you right in front of his stunned parents.
"Yeh lo aapi, ye mere pass paise hai. Aap inse trip ki fees de dena!" he had declared stubbornly, his little chest puffed out with a fierce determination that made your uncle go completely red in the face with embarrassment, forcing him to hand you the money for the trip.
Bilal loved you unconditionally with his entire heart, and he had easily become the a centre of your universe, the anchor keeping you grounded in that cold house.
But fate was still not done playing its twisted games with your life.
It was an ordinary afternoon. Bilal was riding his brand new bicycle in the neighbourhood when a group of older boys picked on him. They cornered him, mocking his small stature, and ruthlessly pushed him off the bicycle, sending him sprawling hard onto the concrete pavement where his head struck a large stone with a sickening thud.
By the time the elders finally found his limp form, he had already lost a terrifying amount of blood, staining the pavement crimson.
You reached the hospital straight from your college campus, completely out of breath, trembling violently, and panicked out of your mind, arriving just in time to hear the grim faced doctors inform your weeping aunt and uncle about the extreme seriousness of his head injuries. The medical staff quietly asked them to prepare themselves for the worst, as his life hung by a fraying thread.
Driven by a suffocating wave of agony, you ran away from the oppressive walls of the hospital, completely broken, hysterical, and distraught. Hot, angry tears rushed down your flushed cheeks, blurring your vision as you fled into the open air.
Your chest heaved with a bitter resentment. You just couldn't catch a single break.
First, the treacherous waters had stolen your doting parents, and now, the universe was violently clawing away Bilal, the only bright light left in your miserable life.
Were you cruelly destined to lose everyone dear to your heart?
Involuntarily, guided by an unseen tether as if it were your second nature, your weak legs made their way toward the vast, open expanse of the beach.
The very same roaring sea that had started the butterfly effect of misfortunes in your life was, ironically, the only thing that calmed you down. It's crashing waves acting as if it were embracing your shattered soul.
But right now, you weren't looking for simple comfort.
You were wailing, falling to your knees on the wet sand, begging for something to hold on to, for a shred of hope, for any answer to this senseless cruelty.
You couldn't lose Bilal.
Your mind rejected the reality of his impending death, you simply could not survive in a world without him.
You were just about to raise your trembling hands to pray desperately to God, that you would willingly give up anything, absolutely anything, just to save Bilal's life, when you suddenly felt a heavy tap on your shaking shoulder.
Startled by the unexpected touch, you snapped your head back, your tear-filled eyes widening to saw a familiar old woman standing directly behind you, looking down at your pathetic form with an expression of pity.
You had seen and briefly interacted with this eccentric woman numerous times during your frequent, lonely beach trips, as she always seemed to aimlessly loiter about the shoreline.
She was a bizarre figure, wearing a long, tattered tunic that perfectly matched the slate-grey colour of the roaring sea, her long, silver hair tangled and messed up by the salt air, supporting her frail weight using a gnarled wooden walking staff. Her dark, obsidian eyes always held a knowing glint, and her chapped lips were permanently curled into a cryptic smile that often looked more like a mocking sneer than a gesture of kindness.
Your college friends had seen you chatting with her a couple of times in the past and had always strictly warned you to stay far away from her, whispering wild rumours that she was a wicked witch who dabbled in the occult.
But you knew better than to blindly believe this highly judgmental, superficial world. To you, she was simply a lonely old woman who had been cast aside by society.
You had even shared your meager food with her on several occasions, sitting quietly on the rocks while letting her ramble endlessly in her raspy voice about Allah, the terrifying wrath of the Jalad, ancient Djinns, and what not, frequently mentioning the liminal, shadowy realm that exists between the borders of life and death.
The old woman silently took in your disheveled state, her obsidian eyes boring into yours as she softly asked what terrible tragedy had occurred. You completely broke down even further, the dam bursting as you let her know everything about your beloved Bilal and the horrific accident.
When you were done recounting the incident through choked sobs, the old lady spoke with a chilling clarity that cut right through the sea breeze.
"Taqdeer ka likha ajeeb hota hai par tum chaho toh isse badal sakti ho. Lekin keemat deni hogi. Bohot badi keemat!"
The intense look in her dark eyes and the gravity of her tone chilled you to your very bones, making the hair on your arms stand on end.
But you were completely desperate, pushed to the absolute brink of sanity, and thoroughly out of your mind with grief. Even if there was a minuscule chance that you could somehow save Bilal from the jaws of death, you would not pass on the opportunity, no matter how terrifying the source.
Wiping the streaming tears from your face with the back of your hand, you got up and straightened your posture, eagerly holding her hands in a tight grip.
"Aap jitna kahengi, utna paisa dungi. Zaroorat pade toh khud ko bech dungi. Bas mera Bilal theek ho jaaye!" You pleaded, your voice cracking with grief.
Hearing your desperate offer, the old woman let out a dry, mocking laugh that sounded like scraping stones.
"Beta mujhe paise nahi chahiye. Aur jo Bilal ko bacha sakta hai woh paise nahi par jaan ke badle jaan mangega. Bilal ke badle tumhari pehli aulaad. De sakti ho?"
You were stunned into silence, the weight of her bizarre demand hanging heavily in the cold air between you. The rational, God-fearing part of your brain woke up, screaming at you to drop her hands, turn around, and run away as fast as your legs could carry you.
The forbidden act of dabbling in whatever dark, blasphemous ritual this woman had in store would mean explicitly going against God and the natural order of life and death.
But then, you remembered Bilal, the unforgettable first time his chubby infant hand had held your finger and he smiled up at you. You remembered the fierce, maternal protectiveness you felt when he had hid behind your back after breaking an expensive vase, his little heart beating fast as he thought, "Aapi bacha lengi!"
The memories rushed over you like a torrent. You remembered when he would crawl into your bed at night because his innocent little mind firmly believed that "Aapi monsters ko bhaga degi. Vo mujhe kuch nahi hone dengi!"
He was, in every sense that truly mattered, your very first baby. The thought of his small body growing cold in a morgue destroyed any lingering hesitation, and so, you made up your mind.
"Manzoor hai."
Just as those forbidden words escaped your lips, the weather suddenly worsened, shifting with an unnatural speed that mirrored the horrific day your parents died. The sky turned an apocalyptic shade of bruised purple, and the massive waves started roaring against the shore, crashing with a demonic fury.
The old woman's sneer widened into a triumphant smile, and she tightly gripped your arm, leading you directly toward the rising tidal waves. You offered no resistance, following her blindly into the foaming surf like a clueless lamb being led to the slaughter.
Before stepping deeper into the dark, freezing water, she stopped, reaching into the tattered bag she always carried over her shoulder to pull out two distinct objects.
A curved dagger and a highly polished conch shell, its smooth, cream-white surface gleaming with a stark, unnatural brilliance against the bleak, grey backdrop of the thrashing waves.
Upon closer inspection, the shell's apex and its tapering spire were heavily encased in dark, intricately chased silver metal that seemed to absorb the dim light. Embedded along the ornate metal seams were expertly cut stones of vibrant turquoise and blood-red coral, gleaming in the darkness like unblinking eyes.
But it was the terrifying ink written upon the white calcium of the shell that intrigued you. Drawn meticulously across its spiral body were lines of a bizarre, ancient black and crimson script.
You couldn't understand a single syllable of what was written, but merely looking at the arcane shell made you feel profoundly unsettled.
Once again, a voice in your head screamed at you to run away and never look back, but before you could gather your scattered bearings, the old lady had dragged you straight into the rising, waist-deep water.
With an unnatural speed, she raised the sharp dagger and sliced your hand open, cutting deep right in the middle of your palm. You let out a sharp cry as the blood welled up from the wound.
Gasping in pain, you tried to pull your hand back from her grasp, but she held onto your wrist with an unbreakable grip, as if that frail, weathered old woman possessed the supernatural strength of a giant.
She forcefully guided your bleeding hand directly over the open chamber of the conch shell, spilling your blood into its white depths, staining the ancient calcium. Then, she dipped the bloodied conch deep into the sea water and held it high above her head, facing the vast, endless horizon of the ocean as she began to mutter a guttural chant under her breath.
You strained your ears through the howling gale, desperately trying to comprehend the words ripping from her throat, but the weather had worsened drastically, the violent currents tossing your fragile body aside as the water rose to your chest.
As she kept relentlessly muttering the chant again and again, the old woman suddenly snapped her head down to look at you, and you saw her eyes completely gloss over, a terrifyingly black void swallowing up her irises and whites entirely.
The sight of that demonic, empty gaze made you let out a blood-curdling scream of pure terror.
You screamed until your throat scraped raw and tried to break away from her hold to swim back to the shore, but it was far too late.
A gargantuan wave rose from the depths and crashed over your head with the force of a falling mountain, violently knocking you into unconsciousness.
You woke up what felt like a few minutes later, gasping for air as you rolled over onto the dry sand of the shore, completely alone. You forced yourself up onto shaky legs, your mind spinning as you looked around the deserted beach.
By all accounts of reality, you should have been shivering violently, freezing, and drenched to the bone from being swallowed by a tidal wave, but to your bewilderment, your clothes and hair were dry. Even the sky above had drastically altered, looking perfectly sunny without a single storm cloud in sight.
Slowly, with a racing heart, you raised your right hand to inspect the injury, but you saw that there was no cut, no blood and not even a faint scar in the centre of your palm.
Were you losing your mind?
"Y/N!"
A familiar voice sliced through the heavy silence of the shore. You snapped your head around to see Shaheen sprinting towards you, her face etched with panic.
Before you could even register her approach, she threw her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug, while your own hands hung limply by your sides, heavy as lead.
Your mind was still trying to comprehend the impossible surrealism of what had just transpired.
Sensing your lack of response, Shaheen pulled away slightly, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly.
"I have been looking for you like crazy! I went to the hospital to see you but you were not there. Na phone utha rahi thi, na message ka jawab diya! Pata hai hum sab kitna darr gaye the?! Jaldi hospital chal!"
Something about the urgency in her voice made your heart drop straight into your stomach. Your mind instantly began constructing the most catastrophic scenarios, convincing you that Bilal had succumbed to his horrific injuries while you were wasting time on a desolate beach.
Your limbs went numb as you allowed Shaheen to guide you. You both scrambled into her parked car and sped through the chaotic city streets, reaching the hospital in record time, only to see your Chachi suddenly leaping out from her plastic chair the moment you entered the corridor, running forward to hug you tightly and kiss your head, something she hadn't done in the last seven years.
"Bilal khatre se bahar hai, hum sabki dua qubool ho gayi." Your Chachi wept against your neck. As those miraculous words registered, you hugged her back, a wave of overwhelming relief washing over your body. The adrenaline finally ebbed off your nervous system, making you slump into a nearby chair as your knees threatened to give out.
"Bilal hosh mein aaya tha todhi der pehle. Keh raha tha aapi aai thi bachane. Aapi ko bulao jaldi," your Chachi added, her voice cracking with tears of gratitude as she wiped her eyes.
Despite the fact that your limbs felt leaden and every cell in your body ached with exhaustion that made you want to sleep for an eternity, you forced yourself up immediately, to see Bilal with your own eyes.
Stepping into the ICU, your heart broke at the sight in front of you. Bilal's swollen head was wrapped in thick white bandages, his small frame looked completely limp against the hospital sheets, and an array of humming machines and clear plastic tubes were hooked to his fragile body.
Yet, the crushing weight in your chest vanished entirely when his tiny hand twitched, weakly gripping your index finger in a feeble hold.
He opened his mouth to try and speak, but a painful wince rippled across his features, prompting you to quickly soothe the messy hair from his forehead, whispering softly for him to just rest and reassuring him that you both would have plenty of time to talk later.
The next few weeks in your household were nothing short of magic, defying every medical expectation.
Bilal recovered within a matter of days. He went back to hopping and running around the house like that horrific incident had never even occurred.
A strange, unprecedented calm settled over the entire house, primarily because your Chachi stopped her relentless taunting, snide remarks, and unprovoked yelling, choosing instead to treat you with a civil, almost respectful deference.
To your absolute shock and surprise, even your usually rigid and traditionalist Chacha finally agreed to let you explore pursuing a Master's degree, dropping the oppressive ultimatum of forcing you into an arranged marriage the very second you completed your Bachelor's degree.
You too felt different, as if some unseen, essence had taken root deep within you.
Your long, dark hair suddenly gained a rich, luscious bounce and a glossy sheen, its thick waves now ending in coils right at the curve of your waist. Your skin glowed with a radiant luminescence, your eyes sparkled and instead of feeling the lethargy that had always plagued your daily routine, you felt immensely energised and upbeat.
However, among all these sudden, positive changes, there was one strange, routine alteration that constantly nagged at the back of your mind.
As a spiritual person, you had always made it a strict point to pray at least two times a day, if not all five prayers, but lately, you found yourself too exhausted to even wake up for the first prayer of dawn, and far too wound up and sleepy to perform the last prayer of the night.
It had been exactly two months since Bilal was officially discharged from the hospital, and with your gruelling final exams successfully behind you, you and your closest friends decided to spend the day by cafe hopping around the city, ultimately ending the long day at the beach to watch the sunset.
So here you were, looking out at the blazing, setting sun as it dipped below the horizon and taking in the silence of the ocean.
Shaheen, Aiza, and Razia were shouting and frolicking happily in the foaming waves a few yards away, while you stayed back on the dry sand, looking at the dark water for the first time in your life with a unsettling apprehension instead of your usual awe, while guarding their discarded purses and phones left on the sand.
"Aap nahi jayengi?"
A smooth, velvet voice laced with a resonating baritone asked, sounding from somewhere directly behind you, the vibration of the words seeming to ripple straight through the ground and up your spine.
"Nahi, mujhe darr lagta hai. Samundar se mera naata kuch theek nahi," you replied immediately, your eyes still trained on your distant friends before you realised that you had just casually answered an absolute stranger.
You turned around quickly to see who had spoken, and your body instantly collided against a solid, unyielding wall of dense muscle.
Dressed in a black sweatshirt and grey cargo pants, the towering man standing before you was built with the flawless symmetry of the statue of Poseidon himself.
Your wide eyes involuntarily moved up the expansive breadth of his vast chest, the thick fabric of his sweatshirt doing absolutely nothing to hide the well defined, lean muscle and the bulging contour of his biceps beneath.
Your gaze drifted down to his large hands, noticing that his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing a map of pulsing veins that made you wonder what it would feel like to hold his hands.
Finally forcing your eyes upward to take in his face, you almost stopped breathing, the air trapping itself in your lungs.
His eyes left you utterly mesmerised.
They were as dark and grey as the waves of the roaring Arabian Sea during twilight, holding a violent, swirling storm within their depths while simultaneously exerting a strangely calming effect on your racing heart.
His chiseled aristocratic face was half-covered with a well-trimmed, dark beard, his lips full yet firmly pressed together in a line, and his thick, dark hair was perfectly ruffled by the ocean breeze, making your fingers instantly itch with a reckless desire to comb through the strands.
Completely transfixed, your mind spinning under his intense gaze, you finally managed to blurt out a clumsy apology.
"Sorry! Mujhe pata nahi tha aap peeche khade hai." You winced, wondering why your voice sounded so remarkably husky and entirely out of breath.
A dark smile spread across his handsome face, causing your legs to buckle in beneath you.
"Koi baat nahi. Shayad main zyada qareeb aa gaya," he murmured, his grey eyes dropping to look at your lips as you, entirely unknowingly and driven by a magnetic pull, took a step closer to his towering form.
Suddenly, the distant voices of your friends called out your name from the shoreline, breaking the trance that had enveloped you.
You turned your head around to look towards them, your foot twisting awkwardly in the shifting sand as you lost your balance and began to fall. But instead of falling flat on your face onto the ground, you found yourself suspended in mid-air as his massive hands caught you by the waist.
You turned your head back to look at him, your faces now painfully close together. As if the ocean wind had been waiting for his silent command, a strong gust of air suddenly roared across the beach, creating a twirling dance of sand and dust around you.
You were entirely unaffected by the storm, as the silky fabric of your dupatta flew upward, draping itself over your face along with his, creating a bubble around the two of you.
His hands slid from your waist down to your hips, gripping the bone and twisting you effortlessly to face him, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips. You moved forward under the pressure, your nose touching the cool tip of his, your foreheads firmly pressed together, and your lips a mere microscopic thread apart from a kiss.
You felt utterly drunk, dangerously intoxicated by the sensation of his proximity.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you tilted your head, waiting in anticipation for his full lips to finally claim yours, but his face moved aside, his lips brushing an inch away from your ear as his coarse beard scratched delightfully against your flushed cheek.
"Meri ijazat ke begair tumhe koi dard, koi qatra nahi chu sakta," he whispered.
You snapped your eyes open, gasping for air, only to find the space completely empty. He had vanished, leaving you standing alone in the quiet wind.
Shaheen approached you, her sandals crunching loudly against the dry sand.
"Kabse bula rahe hai, sunai nahi de raha? Achanak kitni tez hawa chal rahi thi na?!" She kept grumbling incessantly about the violent gust, dusting the fine grains from her clothes and complained bitterly about how her meticulously styled hair was now completely ruined.
She paused when she noticed how eerily quiet you were. Her expression shifted from that of annoyance to deep concern as she looked at your pale face.
"Kya hua Y/N?" she worriedly asked, her voice softening as she stepped closer to peer into your eyes.
You decided to keep the surreal encounter to yourself. After all, how could you possibly explain to your pragmatic friend that you had just been held in the heated embrace of a breathtaking stranger, had almost kissed him, only for the man to vanish into thin air right before your eyes?
Desperate to escape her probing gaze, you quickly changed the topic, offering to break the tension by fetching some refreshing kulfi for the entire group. Since Shaheen wanted a decadent ice cream sundae, you seized the opportunity to distance yourself from the shoreline, volunteering to cross the busy coastal road to fetch the kulfis and ice cream from the brightly lit dessert parlour on the other side.
As you stepped off the curb and began making your way across the asphalt, your brain was still fixated on the stranger's mesmerising, twilight-grey eyes, completely consuming your thoughts.
Because of this, you noticed the speeding car tearing down the street a little too late, your eyes widening in horror as the headlights blinded you.
But before the vehicle could make impact, someone had already knocked you to the side. You fell onto the hard road, scrapping your hands and knees against the gravel, but before the shock of the near fatal incident could even seep in, unconsciousness claimed you.
The next time you opened your eyes, the chaotic sounds of the traffic had vanished, replaced by the quiet atmosphere of a hospital room.
You found yourself surrounded by the anxious faces of Shaheen, Aiza, and Razia, while little Bilal was perched to your right, his small hand holding your fingers in a tight grip.
You tried to push yourself up from the mattress, but a sharp pain shot directly up your right hand, forcing a small gasp from your throat as you noticed an IV drip connected to the back of your skin, delivering fluids into your veins.
"Aaram se leti reh, zyada hill mat," Aiza murmured, immediately moving closer to your bedside to tenderly adjust the pillows behind your back and ease you back down.
"Kya hua tha?" You asked, your voice sounding confused and thoroughly disoriented as you looked around the white room.
Shaheen let out a breathless sigh of relief before explaining the chaos. "Ek pagal tez gaadi se tujhe udane wala tha. Accha hai woh khambe ne tujhe dhakka de diya. Minor injuries hai par theek ho jayegi jaldi. Weakness ki wajah se drip lagayi hai isilye kal subah discharge milega."
Bilal's face beamed as he chimed in, eager to take care of his favourite person.
"Haa aapi! Doctor uncle ne bola hai no kaam, only sleep. Ab hum board games khelenge!"
You reached out weakly to ruffle his soft hair and offered a reassuring smile, trying your best to ease the worry lingering in everyone's eyes.
Still, the mystery of your survival gnawed at your chest, and you looked toward the girls, asking, "Kon tha woh?"
Razia shook her head, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks as she recollected the mysterious saviour.
"Pata nahi. Some random hot stranger. He dropped us at the hospital and jaise hi tu admit hui, vo chala gaya." she informed.
You knew exactly who it was.
You felt it in your very bones that it was the exact same stranger from the shoreline. He wasn't a figment of your overactive imagination or a hallucination after all.
Suddenly, Bilal leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a thrilled, conspiratorial whisper.
"Aapi uski aankein blue blue glow kar rahi thi!"
You offered a faint nod, rationalising that a child's innocent imagination truly had no bounds, which is why he believed he saw glowing blue eyes instead of the fierce, stormy grey ones that had pierced your soul on the beach.
Later that night, once the visitors were sent home and the hospital ward fell into a dead quiet, you fell into a heavy slumber and began to dream vividly about him.
In the subconscious realm, you felt his oppressive presence manifest in the darkness, sensing him standing directly next to your bed. The surreal sensation grew intensely, as you felt him slowly get onto the mattress, the frame dipped significantly under his weight, and warmth instantly engulfed your shivering body as he lay down right next to you.
In your deep sleep, you felt his powerful arms slide underneath your frame, lifting you slightly so that your head rested perfectly against the hard, muscular plane of his chest. His arms wrapped around you, moving up and down against your back in a slow, soothing motion.
Gradually, the protective cocoon of his arms shifted, turning into a heated embrace that made your pulse begin to race in your sleep.
You felt him lean down, pressing a kiss onto your closed eyelids, his coarse facial hair scratching your skin before his predatory eyes began raking over the length of your body, visually drinking you in.
Heat pooled between your legs as he carefully adjusted your body back onto the mattress, rolling you onto your back while he propped his massive frame directly over you. The thin, flimsy fabric of your hospital gown failed miserably to hide the lush curves of your body, straining against your skin.
His large hands moved under the hem of the hospital gown, slowly sliding up the sensitive skin of your thighs and stomach until they reached the swelling undersides of your breasts.
He cupped the soft flesh firmly, his fingers fondling and kneading the heavy mounds with a pressure that made you whimper.
When he suddenly withdrew his hands, an unbidden groan of frustration left your lips at the lack of contact, but a second later, his hands returned, ruthlessly bunching the thin gown upward toward your neck, completely exposing your bare bosom to the cool air of the room. You hissed, your mind entirely paralysed and unable to force your eyelids open.
Suddenly, his warm mouth closed over one aching breast, his fingers simultaneously grasping and playing with the other one, setting a ruthless, intoxicating rhythm.
His lips pressed hot kisses against the sensitive areola, his tongue flicking across the tight, hardened rosebud of your nipple in a teasing manner. Then, his mouth aggressively sucked your breast as if it contained a sweet nectar for him to greedily swallow down.
His sharp teeth bit down on the engorged flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your cunt, making you moan out loud in the darkness. You desperately wanted to push his large shoulders away, but within the confines of this dream, you were utterly at his mercy.
You felt him smile against your skin, highly amused by your helplessness. His lips closed tightly around your nipple once more, pulling at it with an intense suction while his large hand squeezed the other breast harshly, forcing an overwhelming wave of pleasure and pain to wash over you simultaneously as your fingers tightly gripped the sheets.
Finally, he let go of the wet mound with a plop, only to lavish the exact same torturous attention on your other breast. His hands eventually left your torso and traveled downward, caressing the sensitive slope of your stomach and the flare of your hips, all the while his mouth continued its relentless, devouring assault on your chest.
In a desperate bid to release some of the mounting tension coiling deep within your womb, you rubbed your thighs together,
He growled, his massive hands sliding firmly along your inner thighs, forcefully parting them wide as he properly settled his weight directly between your spread legs.
He let go of your breast, trailing open mouthed, searing kisses down the valley of your chest, mapping a path directly toward your quivering stomach while his fingers trailed higher up the inside of your thighs.
Just as his long fingers laced into the thin elastic hem of your panties, you felt someone firmly shake your shoulders.
The sudden contact snapped your eyes open, and you woke up with a start, your chest heaving as you tore yourself from the trance.
The dark figure was gone.
Instead, a nurse was standing directly at your bedside in the dim fluorescent light, looking down at your flushed face with worry.
"Ma'am, are you alright? You were whimpering in your sleep," the nurse said, her voice laced with concern.
You felt mortified, your face going red in the dim light. How on earth were you supposed to explain to a stranger what the source of your whimpers was?
You couldn't believe your mind had conjured such a filthy dream about a man you had only met a few hours prior.
Worse still, you could clearly feel wetness soaking through the fabric of your panties between your thighs, making you burn with embarrassment.
"I'm...I'm fine. Just a bad dream," you stuttered out, your voice trembling as you pulled the hospital blanket tightly over your waist to hide your state.
The nurse looked at you with sympathy, assuming it was trauma from the car accident. She quietly injected a soothing sedative into your IV line, and before stepping out into the hallway, she softly told you to call for her if you needed anything or experienced a nightmare again.
Yes, you desperately told yourself, that is exactly what this was.
A twisted, hyper-realistic nightmare born of stress.
But as you lay there perfectly still in the dark, trying to calm your racing heart, a terrifying realisation froze the blood in your veins.
If it was truly only a figment of your imagination, how come your skin was still tingling, and you could distinctly feel the phantom weight of his hands lingering all over your body?
And more horrifyingly, how was your tightly sealed, sterile hospital room suddenly smelling so strongly of crashing, salt-laden sea waves?
Taglist
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Every day either you or your bc friends cry and you the saviour. Now it’s happened more than twice I am certain of it. Plz stop it’s boring now all your group go take break I thank you. Other day AI for you then other authors and now complaining about hate. Wow I feel bad for the girl everyone bullied for calling you all out. Every one take turns crying and sometime it about anon, when only interact with each other full AI work its obvious all copy paste that’s why you support eachother. Tell me what expectation then? That’s why get hate. I’ll call you KD cry baby group and you the mom of it. Don’t be proud of that .
my only credible takeaway from this unintelligible jumble of words is that you think I’m 💅🏻mother💅🏻
What's your favorite trait about every character of the movie and one trait you dislike
hii babes!! this is a great question! feel free to lmk urs! imma do a list of the ones i rmr:
disclaimer: i know the disliked traits are vital for his mission.
hamza: that’s my baby so i like mainly everything, but his loyalty is something i admire overall. he’s so strong for having such an intense loyalty even after losing both families in return. i disliked that he didn’t explicitly say he loves yalina back. as bare minimum she deserved to hear that, eventho ik he ended up showing it a little w the phone call imo that isn’t enough for all she sacrificed as not only will she suffer with the loss of him, her zayan will also.
yalina: i love how she strong she is despite everything. her parents weren’t the nicest towards her with other priorities and her husband the exact same, she has never been put first but still stayed strong even when finding out he’s a spy and questioning if he ever even loved her. she never broke in front of others. here i wouldn’t say dislike but her patience and the ability to not ask questions with hamza irked me because she deserved so much better i wish hamza had sent her and zayan to vancouver before he went to meet iqbal, like anything for them to fight harder to stay together. i just hate sad realistic endings ☹️
uzair: i like his personality, esp that scene in the first movie w donga n hamza looking all serious driving. i disliked him being a deadbeat to his daughter and i can only imagine how his wife must’ve felt, if he even willingly spent quality time with her.
jamali: he’s so funny i’ve loved him since the first movie, all his scenes are amazing. the guy he’s based off irl has a similar vibe which makes it funnier (i’ve seen vids of him walking to the nfak remakes) disliked him telling hamza to forget his own daughter and grandson as if it’s that simple, rather than filling my delusions of them going to vancouver.
rehman: i liked the way his relationships seemed pure with his family and trusted members, he treated them like family. his bond with those people was refreshing to see, as it’s normally the opposite in south asian families. as in faisal having a strong, secure relationship with rehman, uzair willing to risk everything for him, and mainly how he treated his wife. i hated how pathetic he became when isi approached him. he sacrificed his loyalty for paper he didn’t need and for a higher status all he already had, whilst knowing exactly what isi commit to innocent people. also the sheer audacity to get weapons off the very people isi kill, his own that would do anything for him, but instead of rejecting the offer completely his greed overtakes him and he instead betrays his qaum and uses them as an excuse for snatching his kid away from him.
jaskirat: my fav trait for him is his love for his family of course. the way he brutally took revenge for them all after the justice system disregarded them even though generations of his family served for his country. i disliked his lack of selfishness. he deserves a happy life after everything he’s sacrificed and went through.
aalam: i liked the scene of him teaching hamza how to make juice and how he comforted little faisal. overall he’s a genuinely nice person lwk i wanna try the juice he sells. i disliked not knowing where he’s from, i wish we got to know.
as much as iqbal showed a soft human side to his daughter and how he spoke about his wife, he’s just down right evil and tries to play all his hatred only for kafirs even though he openly admits to killing people from his own country without a hint of remorse! so basically everything about him.
i’m the ‘arrogant’ one. insane. for days now, you’ve sent me this nonsense. sharam nahi aati? not only are u racist ur ALSO castist AND islamophobic. you stupid cunt i’m none of those. ‘kali’, even if i was i still mog u. you could never come close in personality and looks u little manhoos churail, if u disagree i would say send ur bf to me but i know no munda is interested in ur lonely arse. an arranged marriage for u benchode until he cheats on u.
yk what ok im a muslim now. TOH???? mein lakh bad dua karti sirf tere jaise logon. i won’t assume ur religion however none promote hate even if someone deserved it. u must be religious to get offended over the thought of me being a muslim. well babe luckily im not so i can spew as much hate as i want now!!
if u think i was arrogant before ur beyond stupid. calling me a dalit over this is pathetic. i don’t live in india u silly motherfucker, come to europe and bring these thoughts cuz id love to see the shock on ur face when u realise how much nearly everyone hates desi people all over the world, even desi people hate each other. the racism is rife. ur cast and not being a muslim isn’t gonna save u cuz guess what! they can’t tell the difference. u probably have an accent that the same ones u seek validation from mock, do u think they’ll be able to understand u when even ur written english is painful to read. ur no better than ANY person let alone any south asian regardless if they have a darker skin tone. we are brown get rid of that colonial mindset, we come in different shades say mashallah, haram zaadi. let me remind u of that before u spread this bullshit again. tu screen de piche vaddi gallan karda ae haina? teri maa baap tenu pyar nahi deta woh janti hai tu kaise hai isliye. i would go even lower but ill save that for dms, idhar aja khoti!! i hope u get the karma u deserve, get rid of this filthy mindset. i dont think you realise how harmful words can be to someone. i’ll add proof n imma tag the ones that read my ‘bad’ work so they can see how arrogant i am.
proof of my ‘arrogance’ including asks i’ve had since i began posting n full replies on my page:
the ones i’m guessing ur sensitive ass took as ‘arrogance’:
first, it was late at night no one wants to see a demand like that, a simple ‘hi’ or without the ‘???’ would’ve been fine. the second i didn’t even say anything rude? this started a few days ago when i said ‘eid mubarak gng’ it sounds so pathetic holy fuck.
ur disgusting asks:
i’m genuinely baffled on how i was arrogant prior to this in which it leads to u leaving such asks behind a screen melting into ur sofa. i try to like/reply to every single comment cuz i love reading them. even if u thought i was arrogant then block me? this is what u and ur minions have sent. i didn’t block u a few days ago cuz i thought u quit and gave u the benefit of the doubt. now ive gotten a phantom ask as soon as i posted a reply so clearly you’re not finished and have either sent someone or hopped on another account. so main phir kahungi dms aao, jahil gavar. nice to see ur a big fan of me dont blame u though ik im sexy 🎀
sorry to the ones that aren’t this anon this is only directed to the ones that sent this unsolicited.
adab janab! shakal dikha soniye, pakka tumhari sari akad nikal jayegi. mashallah, tumhari ingrez bohat achha hai, nazar na lage.
ur back again, no wonder ur unemployed. i’d love to see where i’ve been ‘arrogant’ in my asks. let’s see ur writing cuz id love to read it, the A* i received says differently. idk what ur issue with muslims are it’s actually embarrassing. all this for saying eid mubarak is insane. it’s not cute being a beghairat xx
You CANT just end it there and leave us all wet after the cliffhanger?????? Why r you behaving like brat tamer hamza yaar!!!!! Where is your infamous smut scenes??? Also your one of the few authors here who dont use ai and im v v tired of the ai slop here so pls dont deprive us of this pls didi MAIN AAPKE PAIR CHUTHE HO
hi jaan! omg it felt so wrong posting without the smut im ngl. i have too many wip i’ve abandoned but they all have smut don’t worry babes. i just don’t wanna promise im gonna keep on posting but if i do i will hopefully, eventually make a pt 2. as much as i wanna say my entire opinions on the ai thing, i will say i agree w u, i was lit talking abt this not even 20 mins ago. i just wish it wasn’t used for entire blocks or was atleast labelled as ai cuz it’s not fair on the ones that spend hours of work. but anyway thank you im sorry for turning into hamza w the teasing 🌚
Hello ji i m usually a silent reader here and i also just join the dhurandhar fandom.i love hamza and i was so happiy to find ur fanfictions because you erite him so welll i love your fanfictions so so much thank you a million times
hii jaan! i was abt to sleep n saw this, it means so much to me, i’ve been thinking abt stopping writing but this makes me feel really happy, im glad you enjoyed my work and told me! if u want a friend to yap abt the films or hamza with, u can dm me anytime 👩🏽❤️💋👩🏽
hi! i’ll write what i want babe. where have i said i’m a muslim? don’t tell me it’s cuz i said ‘eid mubarak gng’ get a grip i beg. i wish people for christmas, diwali etc does this make me a christian and a hindu as well? fyi i don’t practice any religion but anyone can wish a happy eid, it’s called being a nice person. also it’s ‘you’re’ xx
BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 (or more) people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out <3
Thankyou so much for sending the ask 🩷
All the beautiful ppl : @sanajjjjjj @sanamkhanani @pine-breeze @debsreads21 @work-of-procrastination @dumdumdaisy @ppinkitten @baddiefication101 @cvclee @crazyyydaisyy @cvclee @fanaajnabi @gehra-hua @gulaabjamun08 @goodasaysboo @hereforfanfictionsfr @iamadelusionalwriter @kisswithknife @mango-dolly @majoriqbalkibiwi @prahelika-fics @rabbdaradio @shippingtheshippers @vcantwrite AND EVERYONE ELSE READING THIS
Mwah mwah mwah
U all are so very beautiful and I love seeing whatver u post and I hope you have an amazing and blessed day/night 🩷
Thank you Yani baby . You’re the loveliest 😘. Tagging my sweet sweet babies who are so beautiful inside & out and deserve all the happiness and love in the world @itsnotmai @pleasetagmejaaneman @riddhi-on-break @mainyahaankyunhoon @hum-suffer @chocolate-and-trouble @cloudmast @sinnoire
omg right back at you gorgeous!! tagging the other beautiful cuties that regularly comment/reblog since i began posting n the fics/edits i love. if i’ve missed anyone im rlly sorry just know ily 🫶🏽 @eypresho @twinblueflamee @seasonofthenerd @rehmandakaitswife @roses-and-iron @riddhi-on-break @debsreads21
