hello. can you write some hc on rehmat getting married and rehman inviting iqbal to make him jealous and then him flaunting pregnant ulfat and then later baby naieem in his face🫠🫠
hii!! you guys r lwk creative w these lmaoo.
—The engagement announcement nearly ended Iqbal. rehman didn’t even tell him privately. he waited until a gathering, pulled ulfat to his side, and casually announced they were getting married, then he spent the rest of the evening standing far too close to her while pretending not to notice how unusually quiet Iqbal had become.
—After getting engaged, rehman started bringing ulfat to everything. Military dinners, political functions, charity galas- if Rehman received an invitation, ulfat was automatically coming too. Iqbal quickly realized there would be no escaping her, which somehow made things both better and worse.
—Whenever rhman arrived somewhere with ulfat on his arm, he looked ridiculously pleased with himself, not because he was trying to show off, but because he genuinely couldn’t believe she had agreed to marry him. unfortunately for Iqbal, the result looked exactly like showing off.
—Rehman loved introducing her as his fiancée. Not ulfat.. not miss so-and-so.. His fiancée. every single time. even when everyone present already knew who she was. Iqbal started mentally preparing himself for the day the title changed to “my wife.”
—The first event after the wedding was unbearable. Rehman spent the entire night calling her his wife at every available opportunity. “My wife thinks this.” “My wife said that.” “Ask my wife.”… By the end of the evening, Iqbal was considering requesting a transfer.
—Ulfat occasionally noticed rehman grinning at Iqbal for seemingly no reason. ulfat honestly never understood why, and rehman never explained. he knew exactly why he was smiling and intended to take that secret to the grave.
—The pregnancy announcement was somehow worse than the wedding. rehman looked happier than Iqbal had ever seen him. he spent weeks talking about baby names, nurseries, and future plans. every conversation felt like another reminder that his life with ulfat was moving forward beautifully.
—When ulfat was pregnant, rehman became ridiculously protective. If she stood too long, he found her a chair. If she looked tired, he wanted her resting. If she mentioned being hungry, food appeared within minutes.. poor Iqbal had to watch this devotion unfold in real time.
—Rehman absolutely flaunted pregnant ulfat. Not maliciously- he was just proud. Proud of her, proud of their family, proud of the future they were building. The fact that Iqbal had front row seats to all of it was simply an amusing bonus.
—The first time rehman showed people an ultrasound picture, he carried it around like a prized possession. he forced everyone to look at it. especially Iqbal. The major stared at the image politely while rehman beamed like he’d personally invented fatherhood.
—When Naieem was born, rehman became even more insufferable. every conversation somehow returned to his son. every photograph was of his son. ev very story involved his son. If Iqbal asked an innocent question, he received a twenty-minute answer featuring Naieem.
—Rehman adored handing naieem to ulfat in front of people. something about seeing his wife holding their child made him visibly softer. (not misogynistic or anything) unfortunately, it also created one of the most painfully domestic and happy scenes imaginable for Iqbal to witness.
—Naieem inherited ulfat’s eyes, which rehman never stopped talking about. every time someone mentioned it, rehman acted like he’d personally won an award. Iqbal eventually learned to leave conversations the moment genetics became the topic.
—As naieem got older, rehman started bringing him everywhere. one moment Iqbal would be attending a perfectly normal gathering.. the next? rehman would walk in carrying his son while ulfat followed beside him, creating the picture perfect family Iqbal never wanted to think about.
—years later, rehman still occasionally caught Iqbal staring at his family with a strange expression. not bitterness. not even resentment.. just something wistful. rehman would pull Ulfat closer, ruffle naieem’s hair, and think to himself that life had turned out remarkably well for one of them.
i’ve given up on punctuation and auto capitalization guys🫰🏻
Any hcs about how ulfat upon marrying rehman immediately adopted Uzair as their first child (cannonically Uzair is 10 years younger than rehman, so he had to be in his pre teens/early teens by then)
Ooh my favourite kind of hcs. Yep, I've so many hcs on this I'll lose track. So imma limit myself—
Uzair was fourteen when Rehman and Ulfat got married and funnily enough Uzair didn't want to like Ulfat at all. It had always been him and Rehman from the get go and he didn't like the intrusion in their home. He was a little jealous of Rehman's attention being divided. It was born from the insecurity of being a burden on his big brother since his parents' deaths.
Ulfat won over Uzair as anyone does over teenage boys. She fed him. She would make his favourite foods. Uzair was suspicious at first but slowly he started warming up. Ulfat also bought him story books (my Ulfat is a voracious reader and gifting books is her love language). Rehman was an amused spectator to this battle of wills from the sidelines.
Uzair and Ulfat had a shared love for stray animals and together they had practically named all the stray dogs in the neighborhood adopted all the cats. They bonded over petting the animals and feeding them.
Ulfat was the one to whom Uzair had gone when he had had a raging crush on his classmate. She had helped him approach the girl and also planned his date outfit and teach him the ways of wooing women because, "your brother is the most unromantic person I know, his proposal was a business negotiation". Rehman disagreed very vocally from the door, "just because you can't tell him how I actually proposed doesn't mean you get to slander me". Uzair didn't want to know thank you very much.
Uzair had cried in Rehman and Ulfat's lap after his first heartbreak and when it had seemed the entire world would end. Unexpectedly it had been Ulfat who had been raging and wanting to lay into the poor girl for hurting her baby boy and Rehman had had to calm her down.
Uzair used to go to Rehman whenever he would be exceptionally hurt or injured and he still did sometimes (mostly his brother would find him thanks to those elder brother tingling senses) but after his marriage somehow it had become Ulfat whom he turned to for comfort, often.
Uzair had cried quite embarrassingly for a twenty five year old when he had overheard Ulfat telling some relative quite nonchalantly that Naieem was her second child because Uzair would always be her first baby.
This is Uzair x reader on a request. Flirt!Uzair x shy!reader.
1:00 AM
The boutique was deathly quiet, the kind of silence that made every rustle of fabric sound like a shout. You were currently standing on a wooden footstool that groaned under your weight, trying to reach the back of Uzair Baloch’s neck.
Even on the stool, you were barely eye-level with his shoulder blades.
The boutique was deathly quiet, the kind of the quiet where you can hear the breathing pattern of the person in front. You were standing on a custom wooden footstool, which groaned as you tried to reach Uzair Baloch’s neck. Even on the stool, you were barely on an eye-level with his shoulder blades.
Uzair was a wall of charcoal wool and muscle. He stood perfectly still, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, watching you in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. He wasn't helping. In fact, every time you reached up with the yellow measuring tape, he seemed to stand just a little bit taller, his chin tilting up with a faint, knowing shadow of a smirk.
"You’re shaking," he remarked. His voice was a low, gravelly hum that seemed to vibrate right through the tape measure.
"I’m… I'm not," you whispered, your face heating up. You tried to loop the tape around his neck to measure the collar, but your fingers fumbled. The plastic tape slipped, fluttering down against his chest.
You let out a tiny, humiliated sound and reached for it, but Uzair was faster. He caught the tape between two fingers, but he didn't hand it back. Instead, he turned around slowly.
The stool felt very small and very high all of a sudden.
"If you wanted to get closer, you could have just asked," he said. He didn't move away. He stepped in, forcing you to tilt your head back until your neck ached. Up close, he smelled like expensive tobacco and old spice. The man’s got a taste.
"I need... the measurement," you breathed, staring intensely at the top button of his shirt because looking at his dark eyes felt like looking into a black hole, his eyes contained a depth which made you shudder at times. "Please. For the collar."
"Then take it." He leaned down, his face dropping until he was level with you. His nose almost brushed yours, "I’m all yours for the next ten minutes. Do your worst."
You reached up, your hands trembling as you brought the tape around his neck. Because he was leaning in so close, your arms had to wrap almost entirely around his shoulders. To anyone looking through the shop window, it looked like you were, well, busy.
"Uzair," you whispered, the name feeling heavy on your tongue. "Please stay still."
"I am being a model citizen," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes. "But you’re taking a very long time. Is my neck that interesting, or are you just enjoying the view?"
"It’s a... it's a difficult measurement," you lied, your heart hammering against your ribs so loudly you were sure he could feel it.
"Is it?" He reached up, his large, warm hand settling firmly on your waist to steady you on the stool. His thumb brushed against the fabric of your apron, a slow, deliberate movement. "You're doing great. Very professional. Aside from the fact that you've turned the color of the tomatoes in our garden."
"I'm done," you gasped, practically leaping off the stool. You landed unsteadily on the floor, nearly tripping over a pile of fabric scraps.
Uzair straightened up, looking down at you from his full, intimidating height. He looked sharp, dangerous, and entirely too amused.
"Done?" He stepped off the pedestal, the floorboards creaking under his boots. He walked toward you until you were backed against the cutting table, the edge of the wood pressing into your lower back. "We haven't even done the sleeves yet. I think we need to start over. From the top."
You stood there, trapped between the table and the overwhelmingly warm presence of a man. Your fingers were white-knuckled around your measuring tape, and your heart was doing gymnastics in your chest.
"Uzair, please don't tease me," you whined, the sound coming out as a soft, pathetic puff of air. You tried to look stern, but it was hard to be intimidating when you had to crane your neck back so far you were practically saying hi to God in the sky. You would have but it’s a closed space.
Uzair froze for a second, his dark brows jumping up. Then, a slow, predatory grin spread across his face, it felt devastatingly warm.
"Tease you?" He stepped even closer, his polished shoes clicking against the floor until they were touching the toes of your worn-out flats. "I’m a businessman. I don't have time for games. I’m being very serious about the fit of this jacket."
"You're standing too close," you whispered, your face so hot you were surprised the sprinklers hadn't gone off. "I can't... I can't even see the sleeves from here."
"Then look at me," he commanded softly. He reached out, his hand looking massive against your small frame as he hooked a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up. "Look at me and tell me exactly where you want my arms."
You bit your lip, your gaze flickering up to his eyes and then immediately darting away to his tie. "Just... put them out. Like a 'T'."
Uzair didn't move. He kept his hand under your chin, his thumb grazing your jawline with a touch that was far too light for a man with his reputation. "No. I don't think I will."
"Uzair!" you huffed, your shyness momentarily losing the battle against your frustration. You reached up and tried to bat his hand away, but it was like trying to move a brick wall.
He laughed. A low, rich sound that made your toes curl. "There she is. I was wondering if you still had a voice in there."
He finally stepped back, but only by an inch, just enough to let you breathe, though he kept his eyes locked on yours. He slowly extended his arms, his muscles straining against the fine cotton of his shirt.
"Go on then," he teased, his voice dropping to a velvet shadow. "Measure."
You finished the sleeve measurements with a speed born of pure desperation, your fingers flying over the fabric as you tried to ignore the way Uzair was watching you. Every time you leaned in to check the seam, he’d intentionally take a deep breath, puffing out his chest just enough to make your knuckles graze the warm, solid planes of his torso.
"Done," you breathed, stepping back so quickly you nearly knocked over a mannequin. "It’s... it’s finished. You can go now."
Uzair didn't move. He just stood on the pedestal, looking down at you with a look of lazy satisfaction. "You’re kicking out the man who’s paying for your new storefront?"
"I’m kicking out the man who’s making it impossible for me to work," you mumbled, scurrying to the back to grab your cardigan.
Uzair hopped off the pedestal with a heavy thud, his expensive boots echoing in the quiet shop. He didn't head for the front door where his security detail was stationed. Instead, he reached for your keys on the counter.
"The car is waiting, Uzair," you said, pointing at the street where the idling SUVs looked like a fleet of black sharks.
"They can wait until morning for all I care," he said, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you toward him. He didn't care that you were half-covered in thread and chalk. "I’m walking you. Those roads in your district weren’t built for German engineering."
Outside, the rain was a relentless sheet of gray. Uzair grabbed the small, slightly battered umbrella from the stand. He popped it open and pulled you flush against his side, his large frame acting as a windbreak.
The walk was quiet, the only sound being the rhythmic thwack of the umbrella hitting the narrow brick walls as Uzair tried to navigate his broad shoulders through the cramped alleys.
"You’re going to ruin that blazer," you whispered, looking up at him. The fabric of his shoulder was already darkening from the rain. "You should have stayed in the car. It’s a ten-minute walk in the mud."
"I’ve survived gunshots, I think I can handle a little rain," he said, his voice dropping into that low, private rumble he only used when it was just the two of you. He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you so close your hip bumped against his with every step. "Besides, if I’m not there to unlock your door, you’ll probably stand in the rain for twenty minutes fumbling with your bag."
"I’m not that clumsy," you protested, your face heating up.
"You almost fell off a footstool ten minutes ago because I looked at you," he teased, his eyes glinting.
When you finally reached your door, tucked away in the deepest corner of the lane, Uzair took the keys from your shaking hand. He didn't unlock it immediately. He stood in the tiny, sheltered alcove of the doorway, shielding you from the spray with his own body.
He looked down at the simple gold band on your finger, the one you usually kept hidden under your sewing gloves. He took your hand, his thumb tracing the metal.
"Uzair, don’t," you whispered, glancing nervously back at the dark alley. "Someone might see."
"Let them see," he muttered, his voice turning possessive. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. The ruthless gangster everyone feared was currently letting his hair get ruined just to keep you dry. "In three months, you won’t be hiding in this shop anymore. You’ll be in my house, and I won’t have to pretend I’m just here for a fitting."
"You’re still a tease," you murmured, finally letting your head rest against his damp chest.
"And you’re still my fiancée," he replied, a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Now, let’s go inside. I want tea, and I want you to tell me exactly how much you missed me today while you were pretending to be a professional."
Just wondering how on Earth Rehman got Ulfat to marry him. All my speculations of it being an arranged marriage flew right out the window after watching Dhurandhar 2 and finding out how rich Rehman's brother-in-law (Ulfat's brother) is. Even the thought of it being arranged for political gain seems funny to me. Like there's NO way her family is willingly giving away their daughter to a street thug. Besides, I don't even think Rehman was THAT big of a power to be perceived as a threat (to their families) during that time. Which leaves us with the only conclusion – he has mad rizz. And Ulfat has some serious issues. Works perfectly well together if you ask me.
This brings me to the next point about how this would've factored in on Rehman seeing himself in Hamza. A young man with nothing but a gun to his name wooing a rich burger kid? Yeah that's literally Rehman in his prime. You cannot tell me that he didn't get flashbacks of himself with Ulfat in their younger days when Uzair told him about Hamza "fooling around" with Yalina Jamali. Bet he was so proud of his kid for following his path !!
Like father, like son, but doomed by the narrative.
Rehman thinking like .. arre ye toh mere jaisa hi hain moment. I think that's also part of the reason he was so happy seeing Hamza married. He was like, mah boy did good for himself sorta pride. Also getting one over Jamali definitely added to the mirth. I imagine Rehman telling Ulfat about Hamza and Yalina and her giving him conspiratory looks and like, "should I warn her or not?", Rehman is like, "babe I warned you ten thousand times still you chose me i think it's too late for that". Ulfat is like, "then you better take care of the boy, see that Yalina doesn't lose her husband", but then Hamza kills Rehman so— goddamnit i promised myself no angst for one day. Challenge lost.
And Ulfat sees herself in Yalina too. She was also probably a lonely kid like Yalina who just wanted someone to see her :( Like Rehman to Hamza, she felt connected to the younger girl and I like the idea that Yalina would occasionally meet up with Ulfat to rant about her Abbu being annoying and her medical classes becoming harder to keep up with. Rehman likes her too ^^ One could even say she's like the daughter they never had. So of course they're happy to find out that their new son is in love with her. Ulfat is over the moon because her babygirl finally got a good man !! Little does she know.
Ulfat got to live out a few happy decades with her man and her children (r.i.p Naieem). But Yalina? she has to live with a truth that she'll never be able to swallow, has to forget the one man who saw her amidst the loneliness, and now she's all alone again, but this time with a piece of her and her husband's love, raising Zayan all by herself–
