being a kid and hearing adults say stuff like "woah 2011 was 4 years ago haha" didn't really convey the fucking horror of a youtube video crossing my recommended labelled "9 years ago" and it's from 2017. that's not true. 9 years ago is 2010 or something. don't lie.
Ranvir Singh is definitely my favorite bollywood actor. I didn't have one before, not specifically, but I do now. The way this man can pull off Dhurandhar/allauddin Khiljhi and Rocky aur Rani and movies like that is fucking insane. Insane amount of range, he's so talented
A/N:(I have a toxic relationship with this blog, I literally came back in a day even though I wanted to reset...oh well :D) this is absolute bs but take it as a peace-offering, apology gift, from my end for breaking your hearts with Sukoon(...thank YOU for all the LOVE HELLO??? IM SOBBING YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!!) idk what else to say about this except 🤷♀️ anyway, wrote it super quickly or else I would have lost the idea :o as always be niceeeeee and ignore any spelling/grammar mistakes. okiiii byeeeee! <3
Genre: Uzair Baloch x Reader
Word Count: ~1000 words
*Disclaimer: all characters, topics, themes mentioned within this work do NOT affiliate with the plot and history of Dhurandar. This story does NOT glorify, support, and/or fantasise about the real-life equivalents(nor their action) of the movie characters aka Uzair Baloch, Rehman Dakait, and all else involved. Please be advised of its fictitious nature.*
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Bestfriend!Uzair who is training Y/N how to use basic weaponry in the Baloch factory at 11:30 PM while a storm crashes outside because, according to him, "yeh zamana bahut kharab ho chuka hai."
Bestfriend!Y/N who yawns right in his face because this teaching moment could have waited for literally any other day. It's not like she's about to get jumped tonight.
Bestfriend!Uzair who is unimpressed by her slouched posture, damp hair from the rain, and heavy-lidded eyes that keep fighting sleep. Without another word, he grabs her by the sleeve and drags her deeper into the empty Baloch factory.
Bestfriend!Y/N who stands awkwardly in the middle of firearms while Uzair rants about different types of self-defense ammunition suitable for "someone like her" (whatever that's supposed to mean).
Bestfriend!Uzair who catches her dozing off while standing, clicks his tongue in annoyance, and fires a training round into a nearby target just to startle her awake."Uth aur dhyan se sun.." he says as she nearly jumps out of her skin. "Hamesha chaukana rhe. Kabhi bi, koi bhi aa sakte hai tere aas paas."
Bestfriend!Y/N who jerks upright immediately, eyes wide before narrowing into a glare aimed directly at Uzair, who is doing a terrible job of holding back his laughter.
Bestfriend!Y/N who doesn't hesitate to step forward to slap him. "Bada maza aa raha hai tujhe, kaamine" she grits out.
Bestfriend!Uzair who catches her wrist before her hand can connect and simply places a pistol in her palms instead. "Try kar."
Bestfriend!Y/N who stares down at the weapon and then back at him dumbfounded. "Tujhe goli maar doon?"
Bestfriend!Uzair who shrugs "Safety pe hai… Koshish kar ke dekh."
Bestfriend!Y/N who accidentally clicks the safety off while fumbling with the weapon and sends a shot off into the empty space beside him as he moves–making him flinch back on instinct. Whoops, she shrugs.
Bestfriend!Uzair who snaps immediately, jaw tight. “Kuch karne ke layak hai tu?! Mujhe lag jaati toh? Idhar aa.” he orders.
Bestfriend!Y/N who drags her feet as she walks toward him, pistol still twirling in her hands carelessly.
Bestfriend!Uzair who grabs her wrist and yanks her into him and turns her around in one motion, her back pressed firmly against his chest as he sets her facing the empty space ahead.
Bestfriend!Y/N whose breath hitches as he locks her into place, his warmth caging her in and seeping through her cold skin.
Bestfriend!Uzair who takes her soft, cold hand in his, adjusts her grip, and wraps his fingers over hers before lifting the pistol toward the target ahead.
Bestfriend!Uzair who leans down slightly, voice gravely, low as he corrects her hold, speaking right beside her ear.
Bestfriend!Uzair who can faintly smell her due to their proximity–rain and roses. Gentle, enveloping in a way he cannot give into. Ever.
Bestfriend!Y/N who freezes as his face moves even closer, his whisper grazing her ear and sending a shiver down her spine; the steady weight of his hands fully enclosing hers. She gulps.
Bestfriend!Uzair who slides his other hand to her waist to steady her, palm splayed across her stomach, his touch burning through the fabric and making her stiffen.
Bestfriend!Uzair who whispers something low under his breath, his beard faintly grazing at the nape of her neck as he adjusts her stance.
Bestfriend!Y/N who hears nothing. Too lost in the feeling of his calloused hands guiding her, the weight of his palm at her waist grounding her in place. His words brush her ear, but none of them register. They’re too close.
Bestfriend!Uzair who doesn’t notice how still she’s gone and pulls the trigger anyway, the sound startling Y/N back to reality.
Bestfriend!Y/N who jerks back in surprise at the shot, her body recoiling further into his hold.
Bestfriend!Uzair who instinctively tightens his hold to keep her from stumbling. For a second, neither of them move or breathe.
Bestfriend!Y/N whose eyes are wide, heart suddenly thudding loud enough that it may just burst out of her chest.
Bestfriend!Uzair who finally realizes she's not responding to a word he's saying. "Y/N?" He leans down to look at her.
Bestfriend!Uzair who follows her gaze only to find her staring determinedly ahead, as if the far wall of the factory has become the most fascinating thing in existence. A smile tugs at his mouth. "Dar gayi?"
Bestfriend!Y/N who blinks back to reality and scoffs immediately. “Bilkul nahi.” The lie is obvious as she pulls free from his hold and turns to face him defiantly.
Bestfriend!Uzair who leans down slightly, voice dropping–teasing, faces inches apart. “Jhooti.”
Bestfriend!Y/N who nearly forgets how to speak. God. Since when did his voice sound like that?
Bestfriend!Uzair who keeps creeping closer, both their eyes dilated, the air between them suddenly thick with tense desire. One wrong move…
Bestfriend!Y/N who places the gun under his chin, stopping his antics and whispers “Dobara meri raat kharab karne ki koshish ki…” she digs the barrel deeper into his skin, slightly lifting his face to meet her eye-to-eye “to goli tere aandar hogi”
Bestfriend!Uzair who flashes a cocky smirk at her confidence, proud of it. He raises his hands in mock surrender, eyes never leaving hers, and takes a heavy step back. An airy chuckle breathed out.
Bestfriend!Y/N who slams the gun against his chest, turns around with a huff, and walks out of the factory, heart still racing at whatever just happened.
Bestfriend!Uzair who clutches his chest, keeping the gun pressed where she left it, and calls out, “Kaal raat. Same time. Yaad rakhiyo!” as he shakes his head in amusement while keeping his gaze locked on the way her hips sway into the night.
Shit, when did his pants get tighter?
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Tag list(if you would like to be added/removed please let me know!): @mrgrungusthefrog @luvvkk @debsreads21 @twinblueflamee @lakshana-ke-lakshan @bitchy-bi-trash @between-smoke-and-roses @obsessedwidskincare @roses-and-iron @precioussophia @mainyahaankyunhoon @nazmnotes @laal-pari @falakrazzaq @ishq-e-rehman @crimsontraditiongolem @kamalkafool @ppinkitten @mujhekoimarsbhejdo+ everyone-everywhere+allatonce
In which Alia, a simple college girl with a predictable routine and quiet dreams, falls asleep in her cramped yet comforting apartment—only to wake up somewhere she has never been before.
Balochistan.
Not as herself, but as Asiya—a Hindu Balochi girl living in a world far harsher, louder, and more real than anything she has ever known. The place, the story she saw on screen is now her reality.
But wait, wasn't she supposed to be the side character..? Why is suddenly so concerned about her...so worried about her..?...so obsessed with her..?
Prologue.
"Mujhe sonna hai yaar!"
Alia dropped her bag inside the PG she was renting. She let out a long sigh—it had been a tiring day. Juggling part-time work and college had completely exhausted her body. She locked her door, rolling her shoulders with a soft groan, "uhh." She definitely needed a good sleep.
She entered the kitchen, barely having the energy to make a proper meal. Opening the cupboard, she took out the Maggi packet she had bought last week and started preparing it.
It was a lie—Maggi does not take 2 minutes to cook. It took at least 10 minutes in that tiny kitchen. She stirred lazily, her eyes half-closed, before finally covering the utensil and heading to freshen up.
After a long, warm shower, she came back feeling slightly better. She served herself and sat on the floor, leaning against her second-hand bed.
Unlocking her phone, she opened NetMirror to play her favorite—Dhurandhar.
She found a strange comfort in a movie that barely had any comfort in it.
After finishing her meal, she washed her plate and cleaned up the kitchen. Then she journaled for a while, scribbling random thoughts, before checking her tickets for the upcoming movie, The Revenge.
Oh, how excited she was.
In her otherwise boring life, this was her only escape.
19th March. Only 2 days left.
She grinned, wrapping herself in her Hello Kitty blanket.
And imagined herself being sandwiched between Hamza and Uzair (she didn't mind Iqbal and Rehman either).
Sleep slowly took over as she smiled herself to sleep.
"Asiya kumbhkaran uthhh!" her mother shook her while moving around, packing her daughter's bags. "Aur 10 min..." Alia mumbled, too sleepy to comprehend her surroundings. She cuddled further into her pillow.
Can't blame her—Rehman was about to—
"Asiya uth! Aaj bohot kaam hai. Teri packing karni hai, phir Shirani sahab se tere abbu milne jayenge—"
"SHIRANI?!!" Alia woke up with a jolt as soon as she heard that name. "Bhak! SHIRANI sahab! Naam kya bolti h—"
"Mein kahan hun?!" Alia (Asiya) asked, looking around wildly.
"Teri sasumaa ke ghar mein! Ghajini ki aulaad! Aab uth!!" the woman almost shouted.
That woman—her supposed mother?—looked at her, clearly weirded outby her behaviour. But she was too busy trying to comprehend what was happening around her.
She looked around wildly, taking in her surroundings.
A muddy house. A zero bulb dimly glowing in the center of the room. Utensils stacked neatly in one corner. A small section of the room devoted entirely to Krishna, Laxmi, and other goddesses.
Shanti—her mother?—touched her daughter's forehead gently. "Beta teri tabiyat toh theek hai na?"
Asiya immediately flinched.
She got up and looked around again. It slowly hit her—this felt like a fever dream.
But it was too real.
Too real to be a fever dream.
She stepped out of the small hut, only to collide with a boy. She rubbed her forehead and looked up, only to see 'Shirani ka pota' smiling at her, all his teeth showing.
"Aap uth gayi bibi?" he asked, excitement shining in his eyes. "Chalo abb—"
Before he could even finish, Asiya collapsed on him, fainting in his arms.
"Shanti Aunty!!" he called out.
Alia opened her eyes, hoping—desperately—that she was back in her Bangalore apartment, with Maggi packets lying around.
But instead, she was met with four heads hovering above her, inspecting her like a specimen.
She sat up with a jolt—only to headbutt the grandson.
She hissed, rubbing her forehead, but that was the least of her concerns.
The man standing in front of her, holding a stick—tall, broad, with a thick beard—looked imposing.
He looked majestic in real life.
"Apki beti thik toh nahi lag rahi..." he sighed in his rough voice. "Lagta hai wahi paani ki takleef ke liye—"
He was cut off.
"Nahi, wo bas thodi tabiyat subha se theek nahi thi. Chakkar aa rahe the. Dhyaan rakhungi." Asiya said meekly, almost too embarrassed by the scene she had created with her reaction.
Shirani gave her an understanding look. Then he turned to her parents, signaling that he wanted to talk to them. They immediately understood and followed him outside.
Asiya clutched her head, letting out a big sigh.
But suddenly, she felt a presence beside her.
She whipped her head to the side—only to see a grinning Shebaaz right in her face.
The boy was almost swinging side to side, admiring her.
Asiya looked at him strangely.
"Bibi, aap na meri upar gir gayi thi, toh mene... thik hai? Mene apko uthaya! Aur apko MENE uthake andar le aya!" he explained enthusiastically.
Almost too enthusiastically.
Asiya nodded slowly.
But the next thing caught her off guard.
He touched her forehead, then his, and then hers again.
"Aapko toh bukhar nahi hai..." he whispered softly.
His eyebrows furrowed.
"Aapko yaad hai na aap padhane aate aaj, lekin ab kaise aaoge?" he asked timidly, now looking like a kicked puppy.
"Koi baat nahi, mein khud aa jaunga! Ruko, abhi kitabe laya!" he exclaimed, bolting out of the hut immediately.
In the span of one minute, he had displayed at least five different emotions.
And by that—
Asiya accepted what she was in, and what was about to happen with her.
Y'all this is my first time writing something like this, or even writing a fic. So I don't know what I wrote, but this idea has been bothering me. So ehh i wrote it. Toh bhul chuk maaf ywaar.
Special thanks to @torumii kuchupuchuu, meri jaan. She's the one who gave me the idea to name this baby junoon. Not only that but wo mood board bhi madam ji ne edit Kara si. Mein. Isko kha jaungi.
@work-of-procrastination shee motivates me a lot 🤙😝 mwahhhh meri maa. Itna mast bully 👀 karengi tum shakespeare ban jaoge. NAHH MERI CHOTO MAA MERI JAAN! MY LOVELY HELPED ME LOTT. SHE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS HOW MUCH STRUGGLED TO WRITE THIS.
Tag list : @afortoru @torumii @work-of-procrastination @gehra-hua @baddiefication101 @desigal-26 @goodasaysboo @ppinkitten @mainyahaankyunhoon @tojisloft @sanpiece @mandaakiniii @sanamkhanani (bolna agar tag hona hai...👉👈)
Money has always been the language of power, but for you, beauty is the currency that bends it to your will. Born at the lowest rung of society you decide that survival will no longer be enough. If the rich live above you, then you will climb — no matter the cost.
Welcome to the world of the elites—the Rich Man’s World. Here, it’s easy to collect wealth, power, connections, and devotion, taking what you need from one man before slipping away to the next. One by one, you leave them behind, convinced your lies will never ever intertwine.
It’s fine! They don’t even know each other… right?
content tags/warnings: enha hyung line x reader. this story contains philosophical reflection, descriptive narration of money and power, gap between the rich and the poor and depiction of exploitation and underpaid labor, minor character death. certain dialogues include Spanish words or expressions, but they are not meant to indicate or assign any particular nationality to the characters. reader is a gold digger and a scammer! emotional manipulation, chaebol! heeseung, politician's son! jay, investor's son! jake, businessman! sunghoon. all of them except jake are manipulative and asshole (more will be added). explicit content (smut): multiple sex scenes, protected and unprotected sex, virginity loss, anal fingering, blowjob, cunnilingus, gangbang, bondage, blindfold, lack of consent in some scenes, creampie, facial, double vaginal penetration, double penetration in different hole, (more will be added)
rich man's world playlist.
note: this idea came to me randomly. please read at your own risk since it touches on sensitive topics. if it’s not your thing, feel free to skip. huge thank you to my mom, simpjaes, for making this amazing banner—love you, mom!
discoholicmusic
titsay
baratheonpilled
2087
tangentwithtanner
origamiaround
