Faizal: Why do I have to listen to you? You're only like, three years older than me.
Naieem: I have seen things, Faizal. I have seen Abba try to use a smartphone for the first time.
Faizal: goes very still Okay, fair point. What do you need?
Fuck you Ulfat, Chapter five (final)
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Summary : A night at her place. The "he falls harder" of the "she falls first he falls harder" trope is getting some real light.
Disclaimer : This should go without saying but this has zero correlation to the real Rehman Dakait. This is only appreciating Akshay Khanna and Saumya Tandon's screen chemistry. A work of FICTION between FICTIONAL characters.
Warning : Suggestive heheheheheheheh im sorry i just needed to give them some soft porn.. well it's not smut just suggestive.. (lmk if you want sum ;)..)
1988
It's been a year. A looooong year since that day. Ulfat and Rehman… well you can already guess how they are.
He sneaks into her house every night. Cuddling all nice and cozy, soft words under shared breath, love held so carefully that it would shatter if mishandled.
Currently it was 2am, he sat quietly in her room's balcony. Ulfat went to the bathroom. So he waited for her, exhaling the smoke from his parted lips. He was truly relaxed for the first time in.. allah knows how long. He still can't believe that he has something so pure in his life, something that gives a purpose other than cracking bones for Laloo's commands-
The sweet sound of her payal snapped him back to reality. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his foot. Ulfat always made it clear that he cannot smoke in her house, but what wrong can a little puff do?
A gust of soft breeze made her hair blow out, a few strands popping from her neat braid to frame her face. Beautiful. Like always.
She sat beside him. Hand in hand. Warm, softer than anything in his world. Her head leaned on his shoulder, his breath caught. Rehman tried his best to act casual.
"Bohot sukoon hai yahan.."(This is peaceful..) She whispered quietly, a content hum leaving her lips. Rehman wants to drown in that sound.
"Haan.. Tu bohot naram hai.." (Yeah.. You're soft..) The last part slipped out unconsciously, almost reverent. He cursed himself in his head, but also didn't regret it that much.
"Aur tu sakht hai.. Shayad isliye tujhe naram cheezein pasand hain."(And you're rough.. Maybe that's why you like soft.) That was uncomfortably true.
Before he could reply, she added-
"Chalo andar chalte hain.. Mujhe tere saath bistar mein rehna hai.."(Let's go back inside.. I wanna stay in bed with you..) She said it sweetly, but the thought that it put in his head were in fact, not sweet.
He's ashamed to admit this but he did sometimes have dirty fantasies about his Ulfat. How she would look all soft and pliant beneath him, how he would swallow up the cute little sounds she made, how he would run his hand over her warm skin-
He was brought back from his mind by her face standing wayyyy too close to him. Squinting like she could see the thoughts in his head.
"Tera chehra.. laal ho raha hai. Kya tujhe mujhse sharam aa rahi hai?" (You look.. flustered. Are you getting shy from me?). A shit-eating grin made it's way over to her face. He wanted to bite it off her lips. Fuck you Ulfat.
HIII GUYSSS HOPE YOUU LIKED THISSS THANKS SM FOR READINGGG <333 and also if you did really like this, I highly recommend reading the other chapters here (Masterlist)
“this person texts like chatgpt, they must’ve used it”, “that author writes like chatgpt, they must’ve asked chatgpt to write for them”. that could still be because chatgpt was trained on how humans talked, wrote and created. it’s trained to mimic real human. and whether or not you like it, it’s getting better.
if you suspect a work was written by ai and if that makes you uncomfortable, you can always stop consuming said work. but—I am saying this with genuine respect—public speculation, where you make a public post to accuse someone, and witch hunt harm real people whose art and creations are entirely human-made.
also worth mentioning that people who are on the spectrum and people who aren’t writing in their native languages are often wrongly accused of using gen ai
Ulfat adjusted her dupatta one last time, trying her best to smile.
Today was special. Today was her birthday—July 11th. The rain cascaded lazily down the grills of her window. It was her favorite weather, windy and drizzling. Her father had even bought her a new plastic headband, which she kept safely in its box, waiting for the moment she’d finally step outside.
Noor had made her a small chocolate cake and tea, handing them over the moment she woke up with chubby smiles and clingy arms. It was enough cuteness to melt the coldest of hearts. Ayesha wasn’t far behind, drawing pictures of their family with expired crayons, good enough to make her schoolmates jealous. Speaking of school, today was a weekend. No classes.
Everything was perfect. So why was Ulfat holding back tears?
Rehman Baloch, duh.
He hadn’t visited in three weeks. Twenty-one days without Rehman. He had left after a petty argument, something so silly she couldn’t even remember the details properly. Okay... maybe it wasn't that small. But it was petty. She had called him annoying and maybeeee just a few other stuff, and for some reason, he took it to heart. How was she supposed to know he was going to be such a bitch that day?
But her heart hadn't stopped aching since. It was a dull, constant pain that made every breath feel like a chore. Pride wasn't worth this. She loved him.
Ulfat gave up. She left the house hurriedly, her steps purposeful.
She walked toward the gangster side of the neighborhood. The air changed here, smelling of stale tobacco and wet asphalt. Men stared at her with hungry, starved gazes, but she kept her eyes fixed forward. She tried to remember what he’d told her about his place—a dingy room with a roof that barely stayed on. He used to say it wasn’t a home; he used to say she was his home. The memory made her chest heavy and her stomach flutter at the same time.
Then, she spotted him. Not Rehman, but his friend, Donga. A slightly chubby, dark-skinned 17-year-old with a bad beard. Rehman’s description had been accurate, except the beard was *wayyyyy* worse than she had imagined.
She ran up to him, an awkward smile plastered on her face. Donga’s eyes widened, and he nodded before she could even speak. He recognized her. That meant Rehman talked about her. Definitely.
"Tu Ulfat hai na?" (You're Ulfat right?) Donga asked, his voice rough but not unkind.
She nodded. He gestured for her to follow. They walked in silence for a bit, though Donga was clearly struggling to hold back a laugh.
"Toh... tu Rehman ki 'woh' hai na?" (So you're Rehman's "that" right?) He finally teased.
Silence. Pure, devastated silence. Ulfat paused. She couldn't tell if this was a joke or if Rehman had actually... She decided to play it safe, forcing her wobbly knees to keep moving.
"Ye kaisa joke-woke hai? Main uski 'woh' nahi, dost hoon..." (What kind of joke is this? I'm not his "that", I'm his friend) She swallowed hard, begging Allah to keep her voice steady.
Donga’s eyes narrowed playfully. "Oho... toh tujhe sharam bhi aa rahi hai? Sahi hai, Rehman jhoot toh bolega nahi." (Oh you're shy about it too? No wonder, Rehman would never lie about this).
Ulfat felt like the sky had just fallen. Her throat went dry. Her mind went blank.
"Rehman ne... tujhse ye sab bola?" (Rehman.. Told you about this stuff?) Her voice cracked on the last word. She realized too late that the crack in her voice made it sound like a confession. NO- nononono-
"Khair, pahunch gaye hum," (Anyways, we're here) Donga said, stopping at a rusted door. "Chod ab ye sab... ja ab apni aashiqui lada." (Leave it, now go do your lovey dovey things).
Ulfat shot him a final death glare and slipped inside the house, kicking off her shoes.
She slowly walked into the back bedroom. The first thing that hit her was his scent, dark, heavy, and familiar. The second thing she registered was Rehman.
He was sprawled out, his eyes swollen, tear tracks staining his face. He had been crying. Her heart shattered. He looked up at her as if his entire world had narrowed down to just this moment.
"Rehman?" Her voice heavy, testing. Like she didn't want to break this soft silence.
He sat up, wincing at his bandages.
"Mujhe tujhse baat karni thi.." (I wanted to speak with you). Ulfat finally got out. Her chest already felt so much lighter.
Rehman nodded, she crawled onto the bed and laid beside him. Just two kids sharing warmth because the world never gave any.
"..Sunn.. Mujhe pata nahi ye sab kaise kati he" (Listen.. I don't know how to do this stuff). Her voice was stuffy, eyes watery. She took a shaky breath, the scent of medicine and salt filling her lungs.
"But I love you.." Her voice cracked again. She looked back at him. And he was already looking at her..
this time nobody ran away.
"Meri jaan..." (My love). he whispered, his voice raspy and broken. Like he had been screaming it in his head for the last 21 days. Fuck you Rehman.
She didn't talk, she acted. Her lips met his, and the world outside the dingy room simply ceased to exist. Their souls entwined like they were always meant to be.
Her tears flowed freely now. She gasped into the kiss as his arms found their way around her waist, pulling her closer. They stayed like that for as long as they needed. It was peace. It was salvation.
When they finally pulled apart for air, her face was a mess of tears and his jaw was clenched tight. Ulfat didn't have to say a word. He crushed her into his chest, kissing her forehead over and over, whispering "Meri jaan" until the words felt engraved into her very bones.
He held her like she was the only pure thing he had ever been allowed to touch, the only ray of sunshine in his dark, bloody world. And she held him like he was the storm she wanted to be carried away by.
And that just might be love.
For the last time she thought. Fuck you Rehman, for making me feel all these ways.
Taglist : @rini4everdreaming @shippingtheshippers @perfectcherryblossomrebel
Master list :
HIIIII I FINALLY GAVE YALL THE CLIMAX OF THIS STORYYYYYY~ hope you enjoyeddd ittt, chapter 5 will just be an epilogue/ bonus. IK THE LAST PART WAS SOOOO CHEESY BUT I WANTED TO MAKE IT VERY FILMY YOU KNOOOWWW??? And I just needed the kiss so I made it happen sue me
Summary : So you met a guy, and did not like him. Later found out he owns the ground you walk on.
For this cutie's request: @nebulas-stars
Disclaimer : This should go without saying but this is no way related to the real Rehman Dakait, this is just appreciating Akshay Khanna's screen presence.
2000
New city, new life.
or at least what she told herself.
Her father came here from Quetta for work. It wasn't the best city, but the good side of the neighborhood was nice. Problem is, they lived on the bad side. On the side where current going out is not surprising, on the side where water is only available two times a day and you have to stock up or else you can't shit, on the side where there is no high commode.
It wasn't surprising to her, she actually adjusted well. She came from Quetta, that place isn't so great.
Guns weren't a shock. Neither were the blood and gangs. It was how they weren't.. entirely bad people.
She'd seen them not go near the heavily populated area, she'd seen them stay out of zone from the schools and even seen one of them feed a stray cat. What the actual fuck?
The gangs had discipline here? How? and why?
Well she was about to find out.
She sat at a tea shop, wearing a simple white kurta and sipping on tea. She liked this corner specifically because she could see the kids playing cricket and sometimes cheer them on.
The man in front of her was intimidating to say the least. All cold angles and rough hands. She honestly thought he was handsome.
Before the guy exhaled a puff of smoke.
She coughed violently, like she was dying and frankly, she was.
A bit of blood escaped her mouth from the force. People around her threw curious glances.
She finally managed to catch her breath and pulled out her inhaler, finally getting to breathe normally again.
She looked back at the man who was quite stunned, cigarette dangling from his lips and an eyebrow raised.
Her eye twitched so hard it might fall off. She mentally called him a thousand curses but gave an awkward smile. Internally spitting on his grave.
"Sorry bhai, asthma." While her eye was still twitching. A muttered "Bhenchod" (Sisterfucker) under her breath.
The man definitely heard that. She could not care less.
Gathering her bag, she left the stall and went to sit on the next one. She couldn't resist one last look back.
He was smirking. The audacity of this man.
Later she went home and was currently ranting to her father about her day.
"aur yah admi ab bhee itna dambhi tha, maano wo jagah usee kee ho-" (And this guy was still so smug, like he owned the place-). She rambled in an annoyed tone when her father cut her off.
"Wo kaise dikhta tha?.." (What did he look like?). She went quiet and tried her best thinking back to him.
"teekhe nain-naksh, late 20s ka hoga, dikhne mein kaafi attractive… aur kaala kurta pehna tha. Aur uski aankhein… kaafi intense thi, pata hai? Ekdum gehri aur chamkeeli si… thoda ajeeb tha." (Sharp features, late 20's, looked attractive, he was wearing a black kurta. And his eyes, were very intense you know? Like deep and liquidy.. strange). She said thoughtfully, brain working extra hard to remember the guy himself and not the asshole he was. She was honestly surprised she remembered him that well.
"…Rehman?" Her father said. She quirked an unimpressed eyebrow.
"Aur wo kaun?" (And who is he?). Her voice taking a curious but also terrified lilt. What if he was some hotshot? She literally called the guy a sisterfucker.
"Sher-e-Baloch, PAC ka leader.." (Lion-of-Baloch, PAC's leader). Her father's voice was hushed, but he had a concerned look on his face.
Oh great. SO HE WAS SOME HOTSHOT HUH?
Masterlist :
Hiii hope you enjoyed ittt!! feedback is always greatly appreciated <3 thank you have a great day and also should I do a part two? lemme knoowwwww-
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─────── · · · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
Sumaary : Zarwari's daughter has a problem. A big problem. And it just happens to have a sexy face.
For this gal's request : @rini4everdreaming
Disclaimer : This should go without saying but this is in no way related to actual real life people. This is just appreciating Akshay Khanna and other FICTIONAL characters.
2003
They always said she carried the rain with her.
Wherever she went, even without a single cloud.. It would always rain. She was like a quiet blessing, something that made the grass just a bit greener. Much like the rain in Lyari- she was soft, silent, gentle. Like a drizzle in the afternoon.
She grew up with her 2 older sisters. She didn't make public appearances. Whenever guests came over, she would politely give her salam and entertain the small talk just enough. She was a master at decency.
Her elder sisters left so long ago, it's just her father, she and the maids in the house. It was lonely. But perfect.
It was raining today, the soft kind, a drizzle but windy, like a meek girl with passion in her veins.
She brought out her ghungroo's. The dingling bells were loud, but pretty in a way only she would understand.
The door creaked open and she made her way to the fenced backyard. The rain immediately pouring down and soaking her.
She put on her ghungroo's and hummed a soft beat, the dingling of the bells and her footsteps creating a rhythm. Much like when the rain is tapping on your windows lazily.
She remembered an old school song she used to practice to. Her body moved on instinct.
She didn't need music. She just needed this. Just peace and dance.
Just peace and dance with the addition of at least one admirer.
She heard a whistle somewhere, turned around instantly- only catching a blur of black hair and sharp angles. She was pissed. She did NOT like being watched.
"ABE- BHENCHOD-" (YOU SISTERFUCKER-) She called out, her voice was always soft but now? when she was being watched probably by some random teenager? Fuck your softness.
Ready to kill whoever this stalker is, she grabbed her right foot's chappal and preparing to swing it as hard as she can to that direction.
Then she heard another whistle. Closer.
"Areh suraiya~ shaant, shaant." (Easy star, calm down- calm down) The voice was deep, oily and extremely familiar.
Oh no.
Masterlist:
Hiiiii hope yall liked this, I made her a dancer cus I'm one too lol <3
And for my girl rini I'm so sorry I just love slowburn I promise the next chapter is gonna have the arrange marriage thing ToT
Summary : fluff and crack because I have no idea how to make it sad. (wait that rhymes)
Disclaimer : This should go without saying but obviously this is no way related to the real Rehman dakait, we are only appreciating Akshay Khanna's screen presence.
At Haveli
Okay.
This is enough.
Rehman has no idea what has happened to her, maybe the original (Name) has been kidnapped and this is her clone.
Probably not, considering his reputation.
(Name) curled into a ball for the 100th time and munched on the chips Donga gave her. Eyes puffy and lips pouty.
"Areh kya ho gyi, mere saath baat bhi nahi kar rahe ho.." (What happened hmm? you aren't even talking to me). If (Name) was a cat, she would definitely hiss right now. She even sniffled. Dramatically obviously.
Rehman held out his arms expectantly, like she was a bad behaving pet and needed some cuddles.
That pissed her off even more.
"Chale jao, mein baat karne nahi chaata." (Go away, I don't wanna talk). She replied, tone flat and very much not happy. So this how she's playing it?
"Areh suno, mujhe bas madad karna he-" (Just listen, I just wanted to help-). She cut him off with an annoyed tsk.
Waved her hand dismissively as if shooing him away.
This time, Rehman finally accepted defeat, and left.
Wait he's leaving? He accepted defeat?- NO no- nononono-
Before (Name) can do anything, Rehman turned back again.
Caught in 8k with that adorable pout and wide eyes.
You swear his grin is more smug than the devil. But that's because he is the devil.
"Tsk tsk idhar aao" (Tch Tch, come here). He tutted, smiling teasingly.
This time, (Name complied) coming right back to his arms and laying her head on his chest.
Rehman tried his best to act like this wasn't the best thing on earth.
"..I'm sorry Rehman.. Wo.. period ho rahi thi na, meri mood bohot Gandhi thi-" (I'm sorry Rehman, my mood was really bad because of my period-). She finally admitted. But Rehman cut her off with a soft peck on her forehead.
"Sorry bolne ki koi baat nahi he, bas so jao ab" (There isn't a matter to say sorry, just sleep now). To which (Name) Happily complied, all snuggled up against his chest.
SOMEBODY GIVE ME MORE DHURANDHAR FANFICTION IDEASSS I'M BEGGGINGGGGGGGGGGG AHHHHHHHHHHH-
Girl calm down ik your desperate-
NO- NO CALMING DOWN!! I'M TOO LAZY TO THINK SO THINK FOR ME!!
SOMEBODY GIVE ME MORE DHURANDHAR FANFICTION IDEASSS I'M BEGGGINGGGGGGGGGGG AHHHHHHHHHHH-
Girl calm down ik your desperate-
NO- NO CALMING DOWN!! I'M TOO LAZY TO THINK SO THINK FOR ME!!
Summary : Just some tooth-rotting fluff <3 go on my account and definitely check out the first two chapters.
Disclaimer : This should go without saying but this is in no way connected to the real Rehman Dakait. This is just appreciating Akshay Khanna and Saumya Tandon's screen chemistry and shipping FICTIONAL characters.
1987
Ulfat's favorite stall was the one right by the end of the street.
It always opened right there. She always went by, every time she went out. It was almost mandatory. And the old lady working there talked her ear off every single time without fail. Sometimes it was about her grandson, sometimes about politics, sometimes about the other stalls nearby, hell she even talked about Rehman one time. Seems like he has a reputation. Isn't surprising considering that he is a literal gang member. Nevertheless, people know him.
But not like Ulfat does.
Because currently, Rehman is trying keyword trying his best to seem tough and menacing. While Ulfat coos and aww's over his 7 year old cousin Uzair and her two little sisters Noor and Ayesha playing house together.
Uzair is the husband and Noor is the wife, or wipe as she calls it. And Ayesha is their daughter who clings to both of them like physical distance will actually murder her. Ulfat only sighs dreamily.
"Inhe toh dekh —Kitne pyaare lag rahe hain, idhar aa mere bachon~" (Just look at them!- They're so cute, come here kiddo!) She says to the three pouty disasters, and duhhhh they collectively hug her. Because in their world? that's the only type of communication needed, and they might just be right.
Ulfat feels Rehman's liquidy eyes staring at her intensely, but she doesn't dare look back. We don't want a repeat of whatever that was.
Her cheeks heat up, still she keeps her cool, suddenly very focused on ruffling Noor's hair.
"Bachon ke saath sahi jamti hai teri" (You're good with kids) He says breaking the silence, eyes focused but where? then coughs awkwardly and adds "Typical". Since when does he know so much English?
The corners of her lips twitch up, she bites her lip to stop the shit-eating grin from forming.
Rehman notices that bite. And oh.
His jaw clenches so tight it looks like he'll pop a tooth. Ulfat is trying so hard not to burst out in absolutely delighted laughter.
"Khair.. mujhe nikalna hai, kaam hai.. Thodi der isse apne paas rakh le." (..Anyways.. I have to go, I have work.. You can keep him with you for a few hours). Ulfat squeals and so does Uzair.
"Haa haa.. Bas kar ab, nikal. Bohot mazti karenge hum.." (Yeah yeah.. leave already. We'll have so much fun.) She smiles wide, the first time she has in weeks.
Something in his eyes soften. Like his heart is currently doing jumping jacks.
Ulfat turns to look at him and he's already looking at her.. So this has to always happen huh?
This time, he just smirks like the devil he is and leaves. The door closing with a soft creak.
Ulfat is left flustered beyond repair and with all three kids waiting for the inevitable smooch. Fuck you Rehman.
Tag list : @shippingtheshippers @perfectcherryblossomrebel @rini4everdreaming
Master- list :
˙⋆✮˙⋆✮ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˙⋆✮˙⋆✮ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˙⋆✮˙⋆✮ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˙⋆✮˙⋆✮ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˙⋆✮˙⋆✮
Summary : I got so much confidence and inspiration from basically nowhere so here's some more food. And yeah this one is longer.
Disclaimer : This should go without saying, this is no way related to the actual Rehman Dakait. This is just appreciating Akshay Khanna and Saumya Tandon's screen chemistry.
1986
Ulfat woke up with crusty eyes and drooling pooling out of her lips. Great. But she still smiled while stretching when sunlight fell on her. Then everything from yesterday came back to her. The embarrassment oozing on her head with a cold sensation like a cracked egg. Fuck you Rehman.
She got up very reluctantly. Making breakfast for her two younger sisters and father. She kneaded the dough with her nimble hands, too sticky- She added flour. Now comes the rolling part. Easy but soooo time-consuming. This should be easy no? Only 4 rotis.
30 minutes later.
Ulfat is pretty sure her forearms are on fire. She's convinced that you could light a cigarette on it, speaking of cigarettes- No, not everything has to be about him. Anyways, it's still barely 7 am, she can just leave it out like this and maybe one of her siblings can fry it up. They should work too y'know? Why does she always have to?
Her twin younger sisters, Ayesha and Noor. Both barely 9. But Noor loves to help her cook. Ayesha is more of a studying type, always shy and hiding behind her bouncy curls. Ayesha has Ulfat's curls but tighter, while Ulfat's is more frizzy and fluffy.
Before she can think more, a knock on her door. Subtle. Soft. Like they didn't want to wake anybody else up and almost knew that she'd be the one awake.
She had a feeling she knew who it was. The smell of Benson and.. whatever it was gave it away. Embarrassment bloomed in her chest but she refused to let it rule her.
Ulfat opened the door with a creak that sounded wayyyyy louder than it should be, and there he was- Rehman Baloch.
She expected a teasing, cocky Rehman. But what she saw made her feel like there was a solid block of iron in her chest instead of her heart. Her throat dried. Every drop of embarrassment vanished. It felt like she was gonna die, right there. Maybe even that would've been better.
Rehman. Shirt soaked in blood, face bruised, rough slashes and cuts around his arm and legs. He was panting, shaking. Her face went pale.
She pulled him inside without a word. Trying desperately not to cry by seeing this.
"Pehle naha le tu, phir ye saare zakham saaf karke baraf lagani padegi… theek hai?" (Bathe first, then we have to clean your wounds and put ice on the bruises, okay?). She was trying to stay tough. Her voice nearly cracked on the last word.
To her surprise, Rehman wasn't defensive. He nodded softly. Like he even understood that he needed the help. He went to the washroom and bathed himself. She gave him one of her pants and shirt.
That cold feeling in her heart still hasn't gone away. She feels as if something almost got taken away from her for good.
He came out, Ulfat didn't waste words and just sat him down. She grabbed the bottle of Savlon and poured some onto a tissue. His wounds were pretty deep. He let out a few hisses then and there but didn't protest.
Afterwards, while sitting down with the ice packs on his bruises. He finally broke the silence.
"Bol na kuch… tab se muh kyun band karke baithi hai?" (Say something… why have you kept your mouth shut since then?). He sounded almost hesitant. As if the silence is scaring him more than any word.
She sighed, looking over him once again. Though it helps that he's patched up now. That feeling still hasn't disappeared.
"Kuch nahi… bas teri fikr ho rahi thi. Par ye sab hua kaise?" (Nothing… I was just worried for you. How did this all happen?) Her voice was soft, assuring. She knew she was the only anchor in his stormy world. He deserves comfort, even though he's an asshole sometimes.
He swallowed, throat bobbing with the effort damn that's kinda Anyways.
"Laloo ne Babu ke ladke ko tapkaney ka kaam diya tha… humse nahi hua. Phir Laloo ne apne aadmiyon se humein bohat ganda pitwaya. Donga ki toh taang hi toot gayi… uske muqable main toh main theek hi hoon" (Laloo gave us a task to kill Babu's son, we failed. Then Laloo had his men beat us very badly. One of Donga's legs broke. I'm fine compared to that). His tone was flat. Detached. Trying so hard to look unbothered.
Ulfat gave a hum. Her head was down, as if she didn't want him to see her holding back tears for him like this. She gathered herself and looked at him.
But he was already looking at her. Oh, not this again..
This time, she pulled him in for a hug. Her soft hands around his shoulder. Her warmth seeped into his hard planes.
Rehman hugged her back on instinct, his arms finding their way around her waist. She tried calming the raging butterflies in her stomach.
He let out a choked sound that sounded like a sob and denial. Ulfat only held him tighter. As if to say- Yeah you can cry here, I'll still love you.
They stayed like that. For god knows how long. And finally, that feeling in her chest disappeared. They fit like two puzzle pieces.
She wished she could glue herself to him. She didn't wanna leave this, she didn't wanna go back. She wanted this- only this- his embrace felt like salvation, like touching a piece of heaven.
Only then she realized that her heart was pounding like hell.
Ya allah she's in love with Rehman Baloch.
Fuck you Rehman.
Tags :
@perfectcherryblossomrebel
Master list :
Author's note : so I finished this in one sitting, might be rushed but I just HAD to write it, feedback is always appreciated, if there's anything that should be changed or if there's a mistake please feel free to tell me I'm always up for constructive criticism, hindi isn't my first or second language okay? anyways thanks for reading love youuuu
Fuck you Rehman
Chapter one
˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˙⋆✮ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˙⋆✮˙ ⋆✮˙ ⋆✮ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Summary : I suck at summaries. And I have no idea if this is a prologue or a chapter. This is just my terrible mind dump <3 (Rehman is born in 1975 and I made her like 2 years younger so he's 15 and she's 13)
Disclaimer : This should go without saying but obviously this has nothing to do with the actual Rehman Dakait. This is just appreciating Akshay Khanna and Saumya Tandon's screen chemistry. If there's a hell I hope the actual Rehman Dakait is getting toasted like marshmallow.
1989
The smell of cheap cigarettes clogged her nose.
But Ulfat had grown used to it, maybe even found it comforting. She recognized the brand, something like Benson and Hedgehogs- No that can't be right. Whatever, she'll remember it later. For now she just silently looked at him, admiring how his rough fingers slide easily around the cylindrical shape, his patchy lips the ones she told him a million times to put some Vaseline on top of, how the burning tip gave a subtle glint in his inky eyes-
She was quickly snapped out of her daze by his oily smirk. Fuck you Rehman.
"Kya taad rahi he itna?" (What are you staring at so much?). His tone was a mix of teasing and mocking. She wanted to wipe that smirk from his face, with a punch or a.. well the other option is unnecessary to mention.
"Yehi, ki tu tees se pehle kaise tapkega" (That how you're gonna drop dead before 30). She quipped back. Sharp and easy. His smirk twitched even more upwards. Like he saw right through it.
"Abe chal… itni jaldi peecha nahi chodunga tera." (Bullshit. I'm not leaving you alone that early). He huffed. His smirk softened for a split second- but back before she could even register.
Ulfat rolled her eyes, shifting on the hard cement. She didn't even realize that it was getting late. The sky had turned into a beautiful mix of red and purple. It was one hell of a view, but then it reminded her of the bruises Rehman had yesterday. That turned her face sour. But she couldn't even ask. He gets so defensive.
She sighs, turning to look at him. But he's already looking at her.
They freeze. For one singular moment, they don't know if they're friends or something else. Her face unconsciously leaned in ever so slightly-
Then Rehman breaks the spell with an awkward cough. Then swallowed thickly as if he was holding back.
"Mujhe nikalna padega, Laloo ki gang ke saath kaam hai… Kal milte hain, theek hai?" (I- I have to go, I have work with Laloo's gang. See you tomorrow okay?) He nodded at her one last time and left. Steps hurried but not desperate. Like he wanted to forget whatever happened.
She just sat there. On the footpath. Still frozen looking at his disappearing form. It feels like someone ripped her heart from her chest and fuckin' stomped on it. Maybe he just did. She never thought he would reject her like that. Shit shitshitshit- she overstepped. How is she gonna make this up to him?
The last stall of the day closed up. Ulfat gathered her dupatta and ran back to her building. Climbing up the stairs fast. She closed the door behind her with a dull thud, pressing her forehead against the wall.
Fuck you Rehman. She thought one last time.
Master list :
AUTHOR'S NOTE : hindi is NOT my first or second language, I literally learned from bollywood so oof. And I didn't proofread so don't judge me okie :3 All interactions are always appreciated thanks imma go now byyeeeee- also the benson and hedgehog thing? I meant like benson and hedges (A well known cigarette brand from where I come from) but I made her think something completely different to add some light heartedness idk bruh Im not even sure if somebody will get the reference but yeah
hiiii i have another request! it’s for tom riddle this time. i was hoping u could make a fanfic about tom showing y/n all of his snakes and just geeking out about them and she’s just listening to him and interacting with his snakes even though she’s very terrified of them
Don't Hiss & Tell
-> A/N: ily @kiaxika for this perfect request, i'd kiss your creative brain. MWAH
You would like the record to show:
You are not afraid of snakes.
Well. Not that afraid.
Okay, moderately afraid. The slithering. The scales. The tiny forked tongues flicking out like they’re plotting your doom. It’s all… a lot. But you are in love with Tom Riddle. Which is how you find yourself here: sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Slytherin common room at nearly midnight, while Tom gently lifts the lid off a large, suspiciously ventilated frosted glass crate.
“Ready?” he murmurs, voice low and crisp.
“Mm-hm,” you squeak.
He glances over, brows knitting slightly. “You’re… shaking.”
“I’m vibrating with enthusiasm,” you say. “Completely different.”
Tom pauses. His eyes, dark blue, intense, endlessly clever, scan your face, as though recalibrating every word he’s about to say. Then he lifts the lid the rest of the way. And out spills a tangle of scales and glittering eyes and delicate little flickering tongues. There must be at least half a dozen snakes in there. Some are coiled. One is bright green and eyeing you suspiciously. One loops gently around Tom’s wrist like a living bracelet.
“This is Aracelis,” Tom says, in a voice you’ve only ever heard him use when he tries to make you feel safe after a long day of exams. “She’s a tree viper from Costa Rica. Very sweet.”
Aracelis is not sweet. Aracelis is terrifying.
You force a polite smile. “So cute.”
Tom peers closer. “She’s actually quite affectionate, once she knows you. Watch.”
And before you can protest, he lifts the snake and gently drapes her across your shoulders.
Your entire soul leaves your body.
“Tom—Tom—Tom—”
“It’s fine,” he says calmly, fingertips brushing your collarbone as he adjusts the viper’s position. “She’s affectionate. And she likes warmth.”
“Tom, I am also affectionate and like warmth. That doesn’t mean people should hang me around their necks.”
He huffs a soft laugh, eyes uncharacteristically glittering. “You’re being dramatic.”
The viper flicks her tongue against your jaw. You nearly black out onto the stone floor.
“She likes you,” Tom murmurs, sounding pleased.
“Super,” you choke out. “Love that journey for us.”
Tom leans in slightly, close enough that you can smell the faint hint of ink and old books clinging to his robes. His voice drops lower, conspiratorial:
“You know, they’re highly intelligent creatures. They remember faces. They can feel your mood.”
“I’m pretty sure mine’s terror right now.”
He smirks. “Yes. And yet you’re still here. That’s… admirable.”
Your eyes flick to his. Despite the snake currently coiling a little tighter around your neck, you find yourself softening.
“Why do you like them so much?” you ask quietly.
Tom goes still. His lashes lower a fraction, and for a heartbeat, he looks almost shy.
“They’re misunderstood,” he murmurs. “Everyone thinks they’re cold. Dangerous. But they’re… elegant. Precise. They’re quiet. They don’t waste energy on things that don’t matter. They know how to wait.”
You blink.
It’s the most words he’s spoken about anything personal in… ever.
“You know,” you say softly, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were describing yourself.”
Tom blinks. Once. Twice. Then he clears his throat and gently removes Aracelis from your shoulders, placing her back into the crate.
“Nonsense,” he says briskly, but his ears have gone a suspicious shade of red.
Before you can tease him further, a low, musical hissing fills the room. You freeze. Tom glances back at the crate and responds in a language that makes your skin prickle. Long, sliding syllables, quiet and smooth as silk. Parseltongue.
The snakes go still, all eyes fixed on him like he’s royalty.
“Are you… talking to them?” you whisper.
He looks over at you, a tiny, smug smile curving his lips. “Of course. They’re rather curious about you.”
“Oh, wonderful. What are they saying? That I look delicious?”
“Actually, Aracelis said you smell like vanilla.”
You gape. “Is… is that good?”
Tom tilts his head, eyes glinting. “She likes vanilla.”
You’re about to scream when he gently lifts another snake out of the crate, a pale golden one with a delicate diamond pattern along its spine.
“This is Callidora,” he murmurs, stroking the serpent’s back with feather-light fingers. “She’s a corn snake. She’s quite gentle.”
Callidora blinks slowly at you, tongue flicking out.
Tom tilts her toward your face. “She wants to say hello.”
“Oh God.”
Tom hisses softly again, a few quiet syllables that send the scales rippling along Callidora’s body. The snake slithers closer and gently bumps her nose against your cheek. You squeal. Tom laughs under his breath, a rare, genuine sound that makes your chest feel full and impossibly fragile.
“You’re so brave,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“Don’t patronize me, Riddle.”
He grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He carefully returns Callidora to the crate, then looks at you, quieter. “Thank you,” he says. “For… indulging me.”
You smile, heart pounding. “Next time, can we indulge me instead? Like, I dunno… kittens?”
Tom tilts his head, considering. “I suppose kittens would be… tolerable.”
And even though your knees are still trembling, and you can practically feel phantom scales brushing your skin, you lean forward and press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“You’re tolerable too,” you whisper.
Tom’s lips curve into the faintest, rarest smile.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
You grin. “Your secret’s safe with me. And Aracelis.”
Somewhere in the crate, a snake flicks its tongue.
