solene

hi lovely people!

[soleneee]

SOLENEE's MASTERLIST

hello lovely people and welcome to my blog! I am a teenager, who has no talent for writing but does it anyway. my ears bleed for music and my heart beats for dancing. I love spending time with my friends. I like coffee and eating xD

! dhurandhar masterlist -

aadat hamza x reader

aapke paas uzair x zunaira !oc

thankyou for checking this out! ily all smm

[soleneee]

heyyy where are youuu and why are u not writing fics anymore??☹️

aww hii!! sorry for disappearing 😭😭

studies caught up with me and I do not have time to write at all, I had so many ideas and selected 3-4 prompts to get started on but then I couldn't, I hope to return soon tho!

xoxo 🩷

[godricpride342]

OPERATION AMRIT

Tags 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

@maraudersbitchesassemble @afortoru @multifandom-boss-bitch @mainyahaankyunhoon @sanpiece @harrystyleskiwi9 @nerdreader @myboysfavouritetoy @desi-brownie @warnermeadowsgirl @hairandjhumkhasintheverandah @aaglagibastimainhumapnemastimain @dilfconisuer @scentedwolfdragon @skiicoreee @poetry-beauty-love-writez @vcantwrite @prahelika-fics @shippingtheshippers @cloudmast @wan2bey-n @euphorkive @losraire @tinyfoxpeach @ooopssssu @ninnimouse @cherryyelixir @laal-pari @softurns @dilfconisuer @snowsilk @baddiefication101 @kitty-minnieee @roses-and-iron @tojisloft @goldenharrysworld @goodnightkatherine @yearnerray @bitchystxnk @dc-reign @kidofmisfortune @perfectcherryblossomrebel @thesexierbetaofrehmanbaloch

Author's note 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Lot's and lot's of info dump. Simply an introductory chapter. Midnight misteria strikes again.

CHAPTER - 1: SAMUDRA MANTHAN

“Sir, do you know the story of samudra manthan?” Ajay sanyal, Head of intelligence bureau asked.

“No,” Devrat kapoor, Minister of external affairs replied.

The restaurant situated at the edge of city of mumbai was quiet, with occasional jazz music playing in the background as a mere melody - dim chatter of people, the metal sounds of cutlery and the laughter that echoed, laughter belonging to people who had nothing to worry for after they wake up.

It was just mere months after operation Dhurandhar had commenced. Sanyal’s assets all were dispersed across pakistan and his babbar sher had landed in the throes of lyari, finding his way into aalam juice shop and under guidence of aalam, a spymaster who had been deployed years ago.

Operation dhurandhar won’t happen over night. It require patience and observance. Nazr aur sabr. Stretched across years, sanyal wanted to dismantle the very core of terrorism in pakistan. Pay tribute to those who had lost their lives against the violence the neighbouring country had inflicted upon.

However his assets in the foreign land had sent a concerning piece of intel. One that had made sanyal ever restless. It was part of his job, to stay restless looking after the country and the intel they receive. They have to get it right every single time.

“Bade sahab plans to instigate kashmir riots.”

That one small piece of intel had brought back the most violent flashbacks of one of the darkest times that he had gone through. The amount of bloodshed, people displaced, out of their homes and kashmir crying for azadi even after decades.

“Many eons ago,” Sanyal began, setting the whiskey glass aside. “Sage Durvasa was returning to his abode after worshipping Devi Durga. In his hand was a garland he had offered to the Goddess. On his way, he came across the King of Gods, Lord Indra. As a mark of respect to the Devendra, the Sage offered the garland to him. But Indra let his arrogance get the better of him; he took the offering and placed it on the trunk of his celestial mount, the great white elephant, Airavata. Attracted by the sweet smell of the flowers, bees began to buzz and swarm, irritating the elephant. In his annoyance, Airavata tossed the garland to the ground and trampled it into the dust.”

“What happened next? Isn’t that a direct insult to the Sage and his offering?” Devrat Kapoor asked, leaning in.

Sanyal smiled thinly. “Exactly. Sage Durvasa was known across the three worlds for his uncontrollable temper. It is said he had a third eye in the sole of his foot—the root of his rage. At that moment, the Sage cursed Indra and all the gods to lose their splendor, their power, and their might. He declared that Lakshmi would walk away from their lives, leaving them bare. True to the curse, Devi Lakshmi disappeared into the depths of the ocean. The gods lost their grandeur, and the demons began wreaking havoc on Earth. Under the rule of King Bali, the Rakshasas finally won their war against the Devas.”

He paused, the ice in his glass shifting.

“The gods beseeched Lord Vishnu, the Supreme, for a solution. Vishnu, who ached for his divine wife’s presence and couldn’t bear the separation, advised them to bring forth Mount Mandara and the snake Vasuki from the neck of Lord Shiva. He told them to churn the Ocean of Milk using the mountain as the base and the snake as the rope. He promised that through the fruits of that churning, they would regain their Sri—their fortune. And for the gods, fortune meant everything: their strength, their riches, and their divinity.”

“Then?” Pressed the minister of external affairs.

“Lord vishnu had taken Kurma avatar, The mighty turtle to act as a base for the mountain. The gods began churning but it was no easy feat. The gods knew they couldn’t move mount mandara on their own but needed the muscle of the asuras as well. So The devas looked towards lord vishnu for another solution. Lord vishnu gave them an advise, the toughest a soldier can ever hear; negotiate with the enemy. They have stricken a deal with the asuras, offered them half of the amrit that they will obtain after churning the ocean. The asuras agreed and in the strangest of union, the devas and asuras had began working together. The devas held the head of the vasuki snake while asuras held the tail.”

Sanyal paused, staring at the untouched glass of amber liquid while Devrat sipped his water. “Then?” the Minister asked.

“Then… one of the Asuras had the shit idea—”

Devrat choked, coughing into his glass while Sanyal offered a brief, distracted apology for the language, seemingly unaware that the man across from him was a bit more fragile-hearted.

“What I meant is, he had a terrible idea,” Sanyal corrected. “He accused the Devas of treating the Asuras as lower beings—even though they were half-brothers, born of the same father, just different mothers. He claimed the Devas had kept the tail for themselves and discarded the head to the Asuras. Many of them agreed, demanding the head to prove their status. What the Asuras didn't know was that the head is where the venom is stored. Unaware of the trap, they resumed the churning. But as they pulled, the snake Vasuki vomited poison onto the Asuras, causing their immediate demise.”

“Then came the Halahala,” Sanyal continued. “A poison so potent it would have obliterated the three worlds if left uncontained. Even the divine beings fell; the Asuras were suffocating on the fumes. The gods turned to Vishnu, but he shook his head and pointed toward Lord Shiva. Shiva was the only one in the universe who could withstand it. Yet, Devi Parvati was distressed at the thought of her consort consuming such a thing. As Shiva drank, Parvati used her immense strength to wrap her hands around his throat, trapping the poison there so it wouldn't reach his heart. That is why his neck turned blue.”

“Next came the jewels. Some say nine, others say fourteen. Gifts reaped from the labor, which the Devas and Asuras divided equally. Devi Lakshmi herself emerged from the ocean, and the fighting started again. But the choice was hers, and she saw only Lord Vishnu. She took him as her eternal consort.”

“Then, finally, came Dhanvantari, the God of Ayurveda, carrying the Amrita. The elixir of immortality. Both sides clashed instantly over who would be the true owner. The gods pleaded with Vishnu one last time. And this time—” a smirk finally adorned Sanyal’s lips, “—he decided to deploy a centuries-old trick. To seduce.”

Devrat Kapoor’s eyes widened, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Seduce?”

“Hmm. Lord Vishnu took the form of the most beautiful woman the universe had ever seen: Mohini. The Enchantress. She used her allure to trick anyone who looked at her. She took the Amrita and convinced the Asuras that if they let her give the first half to the Devas, the rest of the elixir—and herself—would belong to them. They were so blinded by her beauty they agreed. She distributed every last drop to the Devas. They regained their splendor, battled the Asuras, and won.”

“But how does this story fit with the operation you have in mind?” the Minister asked. “I trust you, Sanyal. Your vision has kept us safe for years—it was your grit that helped keep this country intact. I am sure the Prime Minister will approve whatever you’re planning. But what does a myth have to do with the Kashmir riots?”

Sanyal chuckled but there was no humour in it. “We are going to devise the same strategy lord vishnu deployed. Send a mohini.” He cleared the table, pushing aside the crystal glasses and setting a series of leather bound files on the table. He opened it, revealing a mess of newspaper clippings, survelliance photos and files containing years worth of information on ISI’s shadow work and the underworld beneath lyari.

“Sir what was one thing that both devas and asuras wanted?”

“Amrita,” Devrat answered, his eyes scanning the array of intelligence.

“What is one thing both india and ISI wanted?”

“Kashmir…” Then it hit him. The realization that had sparked like a electricity in devrat kapoor’s mind, all the dots were connected at that second. Sanyal saw blood drain from the minister’s face.

“There’s no need to specify who the Devas are and who the Asuras are in this scenario,” Sanyal said quietly. “They want Kashmir—something that rightfully belongs to India and its people. We are going to use the oldest, most dangerous trick in the scriptures. We send a Mohini to dismantle their resolve from the inside. We let them believe Kashmir will be theirs soon, while in reality, it’s slipping through their fingers. Let them dance to her tune while Operation Dhurandhar commences simultaneously.”

“So your plan is to—”

“Make sure the ISI never tastes a single drop of that nectar. India will send a woman who knows the intricacies of espionage and the human psyche better than anyone I’ve ever trained.”

Devrat Kapoor hesitated, gripping his glass of water as if it were an anchor. “You’re planning to send a woman into the jaws of the tiger? Sanyal, this isn't a standard extraction. If she’s caught… their bodies aren't even recognizable. Imagine what happens to a woman in those cells—”

“My own daughter is going as the Mohini.”

The glass from devrat kapoor’s hand fell, shattering into bits. The sound echoed through the restaurant, stopping many conversations, catching the attention of the waiters and staff. But devrat kapoor had much bigger things to worry about.

“Your own daughter? Sanyal are you barking mad?!”

“I am mad, sir,” Sanyal replied, his voice dropping low. Devrat kapoor simply stared at him, dumfounded. The mad glint in sanyal’s eyes was evident of the inner workings of this man. “I am mad with the burden of the country’s safety. I am mad with the love I have for my country and my family as well. This decision wasn’t due to my duress, she voluntereed on her own, out of her own will.”

“But it’s your daughter, sanyal… your flesh and blood.”

“If not my daughter, then someone else’s. Amrita refused to let that fate fall on anyone else’s head. She decided to drink the Halahala herself. I tried to explain the reality to her, sir. I told her that going into Pakistan is a death sentence. Our assets don’t just lose their lives; they lose their identities. Their only tether to reality is their love for this soil.”

“How could she even ask for this?”

“She’s a bigger desh bhakt than I am. She looked me in the eye and said, ‘Papa, mujhse mere desh ki seva ka haq mat cheeno.’ Don't take away my right to serve my country.” Sanyal’s gaze softened for a split second before hardening again. “The father in me pleaded with her. But the patriot in me? He was proud. She’s doing her duty so that her mother—and millions of others—can sleep in peace. I may still be her father, sir, but as an officer, I know there is no one more perfect for this mission.”

Sanyal slid a single photograph across the messy paper-ridden table. The photo of his daughter, the one he had taken just a summer ago. “Meet amrita sanyal. Deputy at RAW, special operations wing. Operation blue iris, The kathmandu intercept. Trained in psychological warfare, expert in micro-expressions and neuro linguistic programming. Had learnt fashion designing under parisian designers for six months for this operation. Top of her class, meritous just like her brother vihaan.”

The woman in the photo was undoubetdly one of the most beautiful faces devrat kapoor had come across. The youth radiated of the woman, her eyes crinkled with a soft smile yet he could see why she could be sent as mohini. There was the allure in her eyes, that dragged whoever crossed paths with her.

“Most will see her appearance, dismiss her as a mere damsel. It’s her mind that ISI should fear. She will infiltrate as a tailor, closer to our assets' base as well in Lyari. Tailoring will offer her a much deeper insight into the private lives of people without raising any suspicion.”

Devrat kapoor simply sat there, having nothing to say except praise sanyal for thinking the unthinkable. He was hesitant, sending a young girl into such a place has severe consequences. Sehmat had not returned sane, neither did their male counterparts as well.

Sanyal himself had lost a part of himself in Pakistan, the time he spent there much lesser than others but brutal enough that he simply clung to the memories of his wife and children to survive and return home.

“What will be her facade?” Devrat asked, nothing know what else to ask.

“Maya Rajput. A pakistani hindu, a maratha baloch by ancestry and birth. Shifted from Mithi to Lyari in hopes for a job and education. She will soon pursue an open degree as well, after some time into the mission. All while working the threads of puppet strings. Her main goal is to find that ‘Bade sahab’ our asset had talked about. Eliminate him and stabilize Kashmir so the hills can breathe once again.”

Devrat kapoor sighed, picking up his new water glass replaced by restaurant staff. “I will talk with the prime minister. Kashmir is our utmost priority.”

“Then Cheers to Operation Amrit,” Sanyal raised his whiskey glass in toast.

“Cheers.”

[soleneee]

THIS IS FINALLY HEREEEE OMGGG I WAS WAITING FOR IT FOR SO LONGGG

[soleneee]

the hold dhurandhar seems to have over me is actually crazy.

I was solving equations while listening to music, and vaari jaavan played and bro..

my throat dried up, my hands left my pen and I was remembering those hamza aura farming moments from D2....THIS IS NOT NORMAL.

also, THIS WASN'T THE FIRST TIME.

what the freak is happening 😭😭 I have watched both movies multiple times and have even reduced my fanfic reading but HOLY GODDAMN ONE SONG UNRAVELED ME TO THE POINT I PICKED UP MY GODDAMN PHONE AND WROTE THIS.

I think im gonna take this obsession to the grave. 😭

[soleneee]

so you've written on hamza and uzair now PLS go for rehmann any trope but yk when they're not already in a relationship this kindaaaa

sksksks I GET YOU GIRL I GET YOU but I have always viewed rehman as a respected old fellow?! idk why 😭

I have not even read his fanfics till yet, I feel like I cant, he's too old for me 😭🙏🏼

buttt if my mind changes then do watch out for that one!

[soleneee]

SOLENEE's MASTERLIST

hello lovely people and welcome to my blog! I am a teenager, who has no talent for writing but does it anyway. my ears bleed for music and my heart beats for dance. I love spending time with my friends. I like coffee and eating xD

! dhurandhar masterlist -

aadat hamza x reader

aapke paas uzair x zunaira !oc

thankyou for checking this out! ily all smm

[soleneee]

this shi had me searching 'how to create a masterlist on tumblr' on YouTube 😭

also the color scheme on my whole acc is so disbalanced, but I love it so y'all must as well 😻 /j

[soleneee]

aapke paas | uzair x zunaira !oc

author - tried this Uzair fanfic, was not even into bro that much, but boy did this community make me change my mind. kinda not proofread.

a very flirty Uzair x a very shy Zunaira ! includes tons of Hindi dialogue with no English translation ! warnings! minor injury by a bullet mentioned. words - 2.6k

i in no way or format am romanticising or normalising the actions of anyone involved in terror attacks in India. this is purely based on how these characters are portrayed by the actors and follows the storyline, plot and world created by Aditya Dhar.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was a peaceful morning. I had crashed over at Yalina’s place as we went out clubbing the previous night. Yalina’s father, who was like a father figure to me as well, taunted us with his usual remarks. I winced when he said,

“khuda kasam, ye tum dono ladkiyan mujhe paagal kar dogi! Aur Yalina, Zunaira ke saath aati kam se kam, usko chhod kar kis ladke ke saath aagyi tu?”

Yalina groaned, and replied, “abbu, aapko kitni baar bola! Zunaira ko bata kar hi hum uske saath aaye the, usko toh kuch problem nai hai jitna aapko ho rahi!”

“haan toh tu usko bolne thodi de rahi, bol Zunaira bacche, kya isne bataya tha tujhe?”

I looked between the father-daughter duo, knowing I had to lie to escape this.

“haan, uncle ji, isne bataya toh tha, lekin thoda jayda pee liya hoga maine, dhyaan hi nai gaya. Fhir, uzair ko call karke main idhar aayi.”

Jameel uncle let out an exasperated gasp. “arey bacche! Ushi ke saath chale jati, ye toh nalayak hain hi.” “abbu!!”

A laugh bubbled out of me at their exchange. I usually spent most of my time being here, knowing their dynamics well enough now. Aunty called us to the kitchen and served us hot parathas.

“aunty, aapke haath ka paratha, mashallah! Laa-jawaab hain!”

Yalina’s mother laughed blissfully at my comment, adding another paratha to my plate.

I was chatting away with uncle ji, him asking about my abbu.

My abbu was also a major figure in the politics field, hence how Yalina and I met. Though he wasn’t a politician, he regularly funded election campaigns alongside his work.

“ji, zaroor, main abbu ko ek din lekar aaungi—” before I could continue, a ring of a call sliced the conversation. I looked at the caller id, it was Uzair.

“Rukiye, mujhe ye zaroori call lena hoga.” Yalina raised her eyebrow at that, clearly having seen the caller id. I raised my own eyebrow at her, in a ‘what?’

I walked outside the dining, “hello?”

“kahaan ho?” uzair’s sweet voice laced with concern spoke through the speaker.

“Yalina ke ghar, sab khairiyat?”

“kaise kuch khairiyat hoga, tum ho hi nai mere paas.”

I bit my lip, stopping a smile from spreading.

“acchha? Mere nai hone se aapko itna kya farakk?”

“mangetar ho meri, tumhare bina saas bhi lena mushkil hai.”

I chuckled, “kuchh kaam tha kya?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t disturb me just because.

“haan, aisa nai hai ki main sirf tumhe kaam se phone karta hoon—” 

“jaanti hoon.”

I knew he was smiling now, if not, grinning.

“sab jaanti ho. Woh Rehman bhai ka kuchh kaam tha, khata update karne bula rahe the tumhe.”

“arrey, ishi hafte toh kiya tha? Fhir kaise?”

“pata nahi, unse poochna.” He shrugged.

“uzair….mujhe sirf udhar bulane ke liye toh nahi bol rhe na?” I said in a mock serious tone, knowing his tricks.

“huh? Nahi toh, main aisa kyu karoonga.”

He couldn’t sound more guilty.

I chuckled, cute.

“mujhe bulane ke liye rehman bhai ka naam lene ki zaroorat nahi hain, tumhe malum haina?”, “hmph, theek hai, aaogi kya?” , “aa jaungi.”

With that, I hung up the phone, returning to those tasty parathas.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being engaged to uzair baloch, brother of rehman dakait, meant respect and utmost respect in every form.

No one dared to bat an eye in the wrong way towards me, no one dared to speak lowly or wrongfully in front of me. It was an annoyingly blissful life.

I walked inside the Baloch haveli. It was an intricate piece of building, which seemed more homely due to the people who warmed the place.

I hugged Faizal as he came running towards me as soon as I stepped inside, ruffling his hairs, which made him whine.

Something about styling his hairs and me ruining it. I grinned.

Naieem was out of town for his further studies, so it was just one boy whom I got to annoy, except Uzair, of-course.  

I walked towards ulfat as she sat on a sofa, reading a book. Faizal again ran away to..whatever he was doing.

“Ulfat Bhabhi, Uzair kahan hain?”

She kept the book down as she heard my voice, her look of that of a frown. “kaise bacche hain, hi hello bhi nai bolte hain.”

“hi hello Bhabhi. Ab batayein, uzair kahan hai?”

Ulfat clicked her tongue, “apne kamre main hoga, khud dekh lo.”

“thankyou Bhabhi.” I grinned cheekily at her, walking towards his room as she shook her head in disappointment, hiding a smile.

Just as I opened the door, someone caught my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door abruptly behind me. I looked at Uzair with wide eyes. His own’s intensity burning into mine.

“kitna intazaar karwati ho?” he spoke, voice low as he got close. His hot breath fanning against my ear as he whispered. “kitne samay se tumhara intazaar kiya.”

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his waist as I looked up at him, and asked.

“sab khairiyat?”

“haan, ab sab khariyat.” He hugged me, face burying in between my neck and hairs, taking in a sharp intake of breath.

His smell of oud reached my nose, along with gunpowder. I frowned.

“aaj kuch masla hua kya?” I asked, breaking the hug, his arms still around me. Uzair looked into my eyes confused, but realized in a second.

“nahi, vo bas shirani ke paas gye the shipment lene. Udhar hamza aur main bandook se…khel rhe the.” He chuckled, probably remembering how hamza and he fired bullets into nothing.

“hamza aapka dost kam, mera shautan jayda lagta hai.” I frowned, again.

He laughed at that, “uski kya fikar kar rahi? Bhai hai sirf.” “hmm”

I broke out of his embrace as he said,“aur vaise bhi, aapki vo dost ke uppar uski jayda nazar hain, yalina.”

I rolled my eyes as I sat criss-crossed on his bed “kuch naya bataye, voh mujhe akela chord kar hamza ke saath chai gyi thi! Yakeen kar sakte hain aap?”

“haan, kar sakta hoon.” He chuckled, sitting besides me.

“khana khaye hai aap?” I asked him, “haan, kha toh chuka hoon..par..” he moved closer to me, his eyes dropping to my lips.

I quickly moved away from him, my cheeks reddening as they burned.

“haw, besharam!” he laughed at my reaction. “shauhar banne jaa raha hoon tumhara, aisa sharmaogi toh thodi kuch hone wala hai?”

“han toh karna kya hai?” I asked, eyes widening at his comments.

“itni bholi mat bano, jitni ho nahi.” He chuckled. I huffed, crossed my arms and looked to the other side in fake anger, earning a chuckle from him

“mujhe nai pata aap kya bol rhe.” “fhir bholi bann rahi, idhar aa.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

We all sat down to eat, Rehman bhai at the head, Ulfat Bhabhi at his head, me and uzair at his other side. We also convinced hamza to sit with us for dinner, which took a lot of convincing and emotional blackmailing.

At the end, all it took was this one small threat.

“main Yalina ko bata dungi aapki koi pasandida ladki hai.” I said, face serious.

Hamza’s eyes widened, at the threat and having his feelings exposed in front of Rehman bhai. He sat besides Faizal.

Akhlaq brought food to the table. I didn’t waste a single second before hogging the good parts of chicken. Uzair had his jaw dropped.

“ye kya matlab! Sab khud kha logi kya?” he whined, which earned a sharp retort from ulfat Bhabhi.

“uzair, vo roz khane nai aati, lene do use.” I stuck my tongue out at him, “yeh, yeh! Yeh dekha aapne?!” he exclaimed, voice a little higher.

“aap toh mere se bhi jayda bachkaani harkat karte hain.” Faizal spoke, earning a smack to his head from ulfat Bhabhi.

“Rukiye, main sabke liye paani laayi.” I said and stood up before anyone could protest.

I went to the kitchen, filled up glasses and walked back, placing the tray down as I sat down. I looked at my plate. The chicken pieces, gone.

I turned to uzair, sharply.

“tumne abhi mere plate se khaya?” I narrowed my eyes, assessing him.

“kuch sabot?” just as he said that, he chewed, as if nothing had happened.

I frowned, stealing my pieces back from his plate. “arrey!!” he protested.

“dekhein na inhe!” I complained, looking at Rehman bhai with innocent eyes.

“khane de usko, Uzair, roz nai aati hai voh humare saath khana khane”

Rehman chuckled as Uzair looked at him with betrayal. “bhai, aap bhi?”

I stole another piece off his plate, eating, feigning nonchalant-ness.

“kasam se..” uzair muttered under his breath, “ye ladki paagal karke chordegi mujhe.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was raining, the sound of water rapidly falling onto the roof and making sounds which should have calmed me, but didn’t.

They told me through a phone call.

Uzair got shot. The bullet did not penetrate him, but it left a deep wound.

I sat on a sofa, hugging my knees close to my chest. The rapid pitter patter matching the rate of my heartbeat. I was in Baloch haveli, having rushed here upon hearing the news and was now waiting for him.

A loud horn sounded outside, I ran towards the main gate, ignoring the wet drops falling on my body which was burning.

Hamza helped Uzair walk inside, him still being unconscious. A bandage was wrapped around his lower torso indicating the placement of his injury. I could not help the sob which escaped me. Salty tears escaped my eyes, mixing with rainwater as I quickly looped his other arm around my shoulder, helping him inside.

We walked in silence as Ulfat Bhabhi watched us, with empathy for the boy she raised since childhood.

Hamza and I entered Uzair’s room, carefully laying him down. I grabbed a towel from his wardrobe and started drying him up, so that he doesn’t catch a cold once he wakes up.

It was quiet for a while, until hamza broke the silence, “main..chalta hoon. Khayal rakhna.” I nodded at him, eyes puffy.

I started undressing Uzair, removing his wet pathani and tried my best to button the soft, dry cotton once instead. I couldn’t change his salwar.

I placed my palm on his forehead, shoulders slouching as I confirmed he didn’t have a fever yet.  

I stayed by his side the whole night, falling sleep with his hand held within my own, head laid besides our intertwined hands.

I woke up as soon as his fingers twitched in my grasp. Straightening my back as I looked worriedly at the man who is the cause of my happiest memories, now lying lifeless on his bed.

“Uzair? Tum uth gye?” he did not seem to register my voice, taking a while to look around, seeing the familiar walls of his own sanctuary. Worry and eagerness to hear his voice filled me.

It was finally when I said, “bolo na..” did he look at me.

“Zunaira?” he asked, confused, voice low and pained. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding as my name left his lips.

“haan…haan mai yahi hoon.” I sat besides him on his head, running my hair through his hairs, knowing he liked it when I did it.

Uzair tried to sit up straight, groaning as pain hit him. I quickly stood up to help him sit. “tumhe goli ke saath saath itne ghao bhi hai, kya kar rahe the, paagal?” I asked him softly, looking into his eyes, the same eyes which had shined when he had proposed to me, the same eyes which looked at me with love and mischief each day, the same eyes which now held a little guilt.

“maaf kardo, meri jaan—”

“sach sach batao.” I frowned, knowing I would not like whatever he would say.

“sacchh hi bolunga. Voh..shipment laate laate Arshad Pappu gher liya tha, bandookein chala raha tha, Hamza ne nikala humhe udhar se warna—”

“nahi, aage kuch bolna bhi nahi.” I sighed. “ye Arshad Pappu ke maa ka—”

“oyee gaali nahi!” He widened his eyes at my choice of words and asked. “kahan se seekh rahi ho ye sab?”

To which I replied, “aap din mai 5 baar toh gaali dete hain, kuch kaam-vaam ke kaaran.” I grinned. “arreyy par iska yeh matlab thodi tum bhi dogi? Ladkiya gaali dete acchhi nahi lagti.”

“ye kaisi baat?! Kuchh bhi na!” I huffed, annoyed.

“apne ghayal mangeter ke saath aisa vyahwaar karogi?” he looked at me with those sweet sweet eyes. I widened my eyes and stood up abruptly as he reminded me of his condition.

“oofho, shit, ruko aapke liye kuch khane ka laayi.”

Before I could walk away, Uzair grabbed my hands and pulled me back, making me sit besides him as he brought his face closer to mine. Our breaths mingling, nose touches.

“filhaal, bhookh toh kisi aur cheez ki hain.” He whispered into my ears as he kissed my earlobe.

“besharam! Theek toh hojao pehle!”

My cheeks turned red as he laughed at my reaction. His laugh quickly turning into a groan as he did so.

“hasso mat! Kuchh mat karo! Baithe raho..ya fhir aapko letna chaiye, jyda behtar hoga kyuki aapko itna lagi hain. Maine dekha jab aapke kapde badal rahi thi—”

“tumne mere kapde badle?” he raised an eyebrow, a glint of playfulness replacing the previous pain in his eyes.

I frowned in horror, “ nahi, mera matlab voh nahi tha—” he cut me off by simply laughing.

“itni pyaari lagti ho.” He tilted his head and warmly looked at me.

I scoffed, still flustered. “aapko toh bas mazaak hi sujhta hain.”

“nahi,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “tumhare sath har ek pal sacchh lagta hai.”

That made me pause. Uzair did not normally say things so..intensely. His voice laced with regret, worry and exhaustion.

That’s when I looked at him properly. His face was slightly pale, his hand lightly pressed against his bandaged wound.

“darr gaye the?” I asked, softer this time.

He intertwined his fingers with mine again, grip tighter than before.

“..haan.”

Just one word, and it spoke thousands alike.

My chest tightened as he continued.

“mujhe laga..” he continued, shallowing as he looked at anywhere but my eyes, “shayad wapis nahi aaunga.”

“chup.” I snapped, voice weak. “aisa kuchh nai hoga, samjhe aap?”

His eyes found mine again, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“itna haq jatati ho mujhpe?”

“haan,” I replied instantly. “poora haq hai mujhe.”

The rain outside had slowed now, turning into a soft drizzle and a dance of cold wind.

I shifted coser, carefully, and rested my head lightly against his shoulder

“agli baar…aise hero banne ki zaroorat nahi hai.” I muttered.

He chuckled faintly, a silent whine escaping him.

“agli baar bhi hoga.”

I pulled away immediately, glaring at him. “Uzair—”

“yeh meri zindagi hai, Zunaira. Aur isme ‘agli baar hamesha hota hai.” He said quietly.

I looked at him, I knew he was right, I knew what risks were involved with him and his life.

He was not just a boy who teased me, or the man I was going to marry. He was someone who could be taken away from me. any moment.

My grip on his hand tightened.

I gently took his hand between both of mine, gripping it tight as I pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“theek hai, agli baar se pehle, main hamesha yahan rahungi--” I paused, looking at his eyes, “—aapke paas.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hope yall liked this one! ily all smm

taglist - @misteriadare @softkissesandicecreams @roses-and-iron @nazmnotes @anxiousbeeing @pleasetagmejaaneman @itstiaofficial @avasif @marvelfamily3000 @lestatdebarbie @roohafterdark @precioussophia @viapapaayaya @maroonphase

[mainyahaankyunhoon]

Omg fiance!uzi is soo cute🩷

[mrgrungusthefrog]

uzi needs to be inside my jacuzzi

[soleneee]

uzi needs to be inside something entirely else--

who was that?! must have been the windd😻😻 (😭)

[mrgrungusthefrog]

wind real strong today

my jacuzzi is tight and warm uzi

[soleneee]

kinda fw the wind 👅

[mrgrungusthefrog]

wind on my pussy

im sorry

[soleneee]

don't be cuz same

xoxoo

[soleneee]

aapke paas | uzair x zunaira !oc

author - tried this Uzair fanfic, was not even into bro that much, but boy did this community make me change my mind. kinda not proofread.

a very flirty Uzair x a very shy Zunaira ! includes tons of Hindi dialogue with no English translation ! warnings! minor injury by a bullet mentioned. words - 2.6k

i in no way or format am romanticising or normalising the actions of anyone involved in terror attacks in India. this is purely based on how these characters are portrayed by the actors and follows the storyline, plot and world created by Aditya Dhar.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was a peaceful morning. I had crashed over at Yalina’s place as we went out clubbing the previous night. Yalina’s father, who was like a father figure to me as well, taunted us with his usual remarks. I winced when he said,

“khuda kasam, ye tum dono ladkiyan mujhe paagal kar dogi! Aur Yalina, Zunaira ke saath aati kam se kam, usko chhod kar kis ladke ke saath aagyi tu?”

Yalina groaned, and replied, “abbu, aapko kitni baar bola! Zunaira ko bata kar hi hum uske saath aaye the, usko toh kuch problem nai hai jitna aapko ho rahi!”

“haan toh tu usko bolne thodi de rahi, bol Zunaira bacche, kya isne bataya tha tujhe?”

I looked between the father-daughter duo, knowing I had to lie to escape this.

“haan, uncle ji, isne bataya toh tha, lekin thoda jayda pee liya hoga maine, dhyaan hi nai gaya. Fhir, uzair ko call karke main idhar aayi.”

Jameel uncle let out an exasperated gasp. “arey bacche! Ushi ke saath chale jati, ye toh nalayak hain hi.” “abbu!!”

A laugh bubbled out of me at their exchange. I usually spent most of my time being here, knowing their dynamics well enough now. Aunty called us to the kitchen and served us hot parathas.

“aunty, aapke haath ka paratha, mashallah! Laa-jawaab hain!”

Yalina’s mother laughed blissfully at my comment, adding another paratha to my plate.

I was chatting away with uncle ji, him asking about my abbu.

My abbu was also a major figure in the politics field, hence how Yalina and I met. Though he wasn’t a politician, he regularly funded election campaigns alongside his work.

“ji, zaroor, main abbu ko ek din lekar aaungi—” before I could continue, a ring of a call sliced the conversation. I looked at the caller id, it was Uzair.

“Rukiye, mujhe ye zaroori call lena hoga.” Yalina raised her eyebrow at that, clearly having seen the caller id. I raised my own eyebrow at her, in a ‘what?’

I walked outside the dining, “hello?”

“kahaan ho?” uzair’s sweet voice laced with concern spoke through the speaker.

“Yalina ke ghar, sab khairiyat?”

“kaise kuch khairiyat hoga, tum ho hi nai mere paas.”

I bit my lip, stopping a smile from spreading.

“acchha? Mere nai hone se aapko itna kya farakk?”

“mangetar ho meri, tumhare bina saas bhi lena mushkil hai.”

I chuckled, “kuchh kaam tha kya?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t disturb me just because.

“haan, aisa nai hai ki main sirf tumhe kaam se phone karta hoon—” 

“jaanti hoon.”

I knew he was smiling now, if not, grinning.

“sab jaanti ho. Woh Rehman bhai ka kuchh kaam tha, khata update karne bula rahe the tumhe.”

“arrey, ishi hafte toh kiya tha? Fhir kaise?”

“pata nahi, unse poochna.” He shrugged.

“uzair….mujhe sirf udhar bulane ke liye toh nahi bol rhe na?” I said in a mock serious tone, knowing his tricks.

“huh? Nahi toh, main aisa kyu karoonga.”

He couldn’t sound more guilty.

I chuckled, cute.

“mujhe bulane ke liye rehman bhai ka naam lene ki zaroorat nahi hain, tumhe malum haina?”, “hmph, theek hai, aaogi kya?” , “aa jaungi.”

With that, I hung up the phone, returning to those tasty parathas.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being engaged to uzair baloch, brother of rehman dakait, meant respect and utmost respect in every form.

No one dared to bat an eye in the wrong way towards me, no one dared to speak lowly or wrongfully in front of me. It was an annoyingly blissful life.

I walked inside the Baloch haveli. It was an intricate piece of building, which seemed more homely due to the people who warmed the place.

I hugged Faizal as he came running towards me as soon as I stepped inside, ruffling his hairs, which made him whine.

Something about styling his hairs and me ruining it. I grinned.

Naieem was out of town for his further studies, so it was just one boy whom I got to annoy, except Uzair, of-course.  

I walked towards ulfat as she sat on a sofa, reading a book. Faizal again ran away to..whatever he was doing.

“Ulfat Bhabhi, Uzair kahan hain?”

She kept the book down as she heard my voice, her look of that of a frown. “kaise bacche hain, hi hello bhi nai bolte hain.”

“hi hello Bhabhi. Ab batayein, uzair kahan hai?”

Ulfat clicked her tongue, “apne kamre main hoga, khud dekh lo.”

“thankyou Bhabhi.” I grinned cheekily at her, walking towards his room as she shook her head in disappointment, hiding a smile.

Just as I opened the door, someone caught my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door abruptly behind me. I looked at Uzair with wide eyes. His own’s intensity burning into mine.

“kitna intazaar karwati ho?” he spoke, voice low as he got close. His hot breath fanning against my ear as he whispered. “kitne samay se tumhara intazaar kiya.”

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his waist as I looked up at him, and asked.

“sab khairiyat?”

“haan, ab sab khariyat.” He hugged me, face burying in between my neck and hairs, taking in a sharp intake of breath.

His smell of oud reached my nose, along with gunpowder. I frowned.

“aaj kuch masla hua kya?” I asked, breaking the hug, his arms still around me. Uzair looked into my eyes confused, but realized in a second.

“nahi, vo bas shirani ke paas gye the shipment lene. Udhar hamza aur main bandook se…khel rhe the.” He chuckled, probably remembering how hamza and he fired bullets into nothing.

“hamza aapka dost kam, mera shautan jayda lagta hai.” I frowned, again.

He laughed at that, “uski kya fikar kar rahi? Bhai hai sirf.” “hmm”

I broke out of his embrace as he said,“aur vaise bhi, aapki vo dost ke uppar uski jayda nazar hain, yalina.”

I rolled my eyes as I sat criss-crossed on his bed “kuch naya bataye, voh mujhe akela chord kar hamza ke saath chai gyi thi! Yakeen kar sakte hain aap?”

“haan, kar sakta hoon.” He chuckled, sitting besides me.

“khana khaye hai aap?” I asked him, “haan, kha toh chuka hoon..par..” he moved closer to me, his eyes dropping to my lips.

I quickly moved away from him, my cheeks reddening as they burned.

“haw, besharam!” he laughed at my reaction. “shauhar banne jaa raha hoon tumhara, aisa sharmaogi toh thodi kuch hone wala hai?”

“han toh karna kya hai?” I asked, eyes widening at his comments.

“itni bholi mat bano, jitni ho nahi.” He chuckled. I huffed, crossed my arms and looked to the other side in fake anger, earning a chuckle from him

“mujhe nai pata aap kya bol rhe.” “fhir bholi bann rahi, idhar aa.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

We all sat down to eat, Rehman bhai at the head, Ulfat Bhabhi at his head, me and uzair at his other side. We also convinced hamza to sit with us for dinner, which took a lot of convincing and emotional blackmailing.

At the end, all it took was this one small threat.

“main Yalina ko bata dungi aapki koi pasandida ladki hai.” I said, face serious.

Hamza’s eyes widened, at the threat and having his feelings exposed in front of Rehman bhai. He sat besides Faizal.

Akhlaq brought food to the table. I didn’t waste a single second before hogging the good parts of chicken. Uzair had his jaw dropped.

“ye kya matlab! Sab khud kha logi kya?” he whined, which earned a sharp retort from ulfat Bhabhi.

“uzair, vo roz khane nai aati, lene do use.” I stuck my tongue out at him, “yeh, yeh! Yeh dekha aapne?!” he exclaimed, voice a little higher.

“aap toh mere se bhi jayda bachkaani harkat karte hain.” Faizal spoke, earning a smack to his head from ulfat Bhabhi.

“Rukiye, main sabke liye paani laayi.” I said and stood up before anyone could protest.

I went to the kitchen, filled up glasses and walked back, placing the tray down as I sat down. I looked at my plate. The chicken pieces, gone.

I turned to uzair, sharply.

“tumne abhi mere plate se khaya?” I narrowed my eyes, assessing him.

“kuch sabot?” just as he said that, he chewed, as if nothing had happened.

I frowned, stealing my pieces back from his plate. “arrey!!” he protested.

“dekhein na inhe!” I complained, looking at Rehman bhai with innocent eyes.

“khane de usko, Uzair, roz nai aati hai voh humare saath khana khane”

Rehman chuckled as Uzair looked at him with betrayal. “bhai, aap bhi?”

I stole another piece off his plate, eating, feigning nonchalant-ness.

“kasam se..” uzair muttered under his breath, “ye ladki paagal karke chordegi mujhe.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was raining, the sound of water rapidly falling onto the roof and making sounds which should have calmed me, but didn’t.

They told me through a phone call.

Uzair got shot. The bullet did not penetrate him, but it left a deep wound.

I sat on a sofa, hugging my knees close to my chest. The rapid pitter patter matching the rate of my heartbeat. I was in Baloch haveli, having rushed here upon hearing the news and was now waiting for him.

A loud horn sounded outside, I ran towards the main gate, ignoring the wet drops falling on my body which was burning.

Hamza helped Uzair walk inside, him still being unconscious. A bandage was wrapped around his lower torso indicating the placement of his injury. I could not help the sob which escaped me. Salty tears escaped my eyes, mixing with rainwater as I quickly looped his other arm around my shoulder, helping him inside.

We walked in silence as Ulfat Bhabhi watched us, with empathy for the boy she raised since childhood.

Hamza and I entered Uzair’s room, carefully laying him down. I grabbed a towel from his wardrobe and started drying him up, so that he doesn’t catch a cold once he wakes up.

It was quiet for a while, until hamza broke the silence, “main..chalta hoon. Khayal rakhna.” I nodded at him, eyes puffy.

I started undressing Uzair, removing his wet pathani and tried my best to button the soft, dry cotton once instead. I couldn’t change his salwar.

I placed my palm on his forehead, shoulders slouching as I confirmed he didn’t have a fever yet.  

I stayed by his side the whole night, falling sleep with his hand held within my own, head laid besides our intertwined hands.

I woke up as soon as his fingers twitched in my grasp. Straightening my back as I looked worriedly at the man who is the cause of my happiest memories, now lying lifeless on his bed.

“Uzair? Tum uth gye?” he did not seem to register my voice, taking a while to look around, seeing the familiar walls of his own sanctuary. Worry and eagerness to hear his voice filled me.

It was finally when I said, “bolo na..” did he look at me.

“Zunaira?” he asked, confused, voice low and pained. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding as my name left his lips.

“haan…haan mai yahi hoon.” I sat besides him on his head, running my hair through his hairs, knowing he liked it when I did it.

Uzair tried to sit up straight, groaning as pain hit him. I quickly stood up to help him sit. “tumhe goli ke saath saath itne ghao bhi hai, kya kar rahe the, paagal?” I asked him softly, looking into his eyes, the same eyes which had shined when he had proposed to me, the same eyes which looked at me with love and mischief each day, the same eyes which now held a little guilt.

“maaf kardo, meri jaan—”

“sach sach batao.” I frowned, knowing I would not like whatever he would say.

“sacchh hi bolunga. Voh..shipment laate laate Arshad Pappu gher liya tha, bandookein chala raha tha, Hamza ne nikala humhe udhar se warna—”

“nahi, aage kuch bolna bhi nahi.” I sighed. “ye Arshad Pappu ke maa ka—”

“oyee gaali nahi!” He widened his eyes at my choice of words and asked. “kahan se seekh rahi ho ye sab?”

To which I replied, “aap din mai 5 baar toh gaali dete hain, kuch kaam-vaam ke kaaran.” I grinned. “arreyy par iska yeh matlab thodi tum bhi dogi? Ladkiya gaali dete acchhi nahi lagti.”

“ye kaisi baat?! Kuchh bhi na!” I huffed, annoyed.

“apne ghayal mangeter ke saath aisa vyahwaar karogi?” he looked at me with those sweet sweet eyes. I widened my eyes and stood up abruptly as he reminded me of his condition.

“oofho, shit, ruko aapke liye kuch khane ka laayi.”

Before I could walk away, Uzair grabbed my hands and pulled me back, making me sit besides him as he brought his face closer to mine. Our breaths mingling, nose touches.

“filhaal, bhookh toh kisi aur cheez ki hain.” He whispered into my ears as he kissed my earlobe.

“besharam! Theek toh hojao pehle!”

My cheeks turned red as he laughed at my reaction. His laugh quickly turning into a groan as he did so.

“hasso mat! Kuchh mat karo! Baithe raho..ya fhir aapko letna chaiye, jyda behtar hoga kyuki aapko itna lagi hain. Maine dekha jab aapke kapde badal rahi thi—”

“tumne mere kapde badle?” he raised an eyebrow, a glint of playfulness replacing the previous pain in his eyes.

I frowned in horror, “ nahi, mera matlab voh nahi tha—” he cut me off by simply laughing.

“itni pyaari lagti ho.” He tilted his head and warmly looked at me.

I scoffed, still flustered. “aapko toh bas mazaak hi sujhta hain.”

“nahi,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “tumhare sath har ek pal sacchh lagta hai.”

That made me pause. Uzair did not normally say things so..intensely. His voice laced with regret, worry and exhaustion.

That’s when I looked at him properly. His face was slightly pale, his hand lightly pressed against his bandaged wound.

“darr gaye the?” I asked, softer this time.

He intertwined his fingers with mine again, grip tighter than before.

“..haan.”

Just one word, and it spoke thousands alike.

My chest tightened as he continued.

“mujhe laga..” he continued, shallowing as he looked at anywhere but my eyes, “shayad wapis nahi aaunga.”

“chup.” I snapped, voice weak. “aisa kuchh nai hoga, samjhe aap?”

His eyes found mine again, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“itna haq jatati ho mujhpe?”

“haan,” I replied instantly. “poora haq hai mujhe.”

The rain outside had slowed now, turning into a soft drizzle and a dance of cold wind.

I shifted coser, carefully, and rested my head lightly against his shoulder

“agli baar…aise hero banne ki zaroorat nahi hai.” I muttered.

He chuckled faintly, a silent whine escaping him.

“agli baar bhi hoga.”

I pulled away immediately, glaring at him. “Uzair—”

“yeh meri zindagi hai, Zunaira. Aur isme ‘agli baar hamesha hota hai.” He said quietly.

I looked at him, I knew he was right, I knew what risks were involved with him and his life.

He was not just a boy who teased me, or the man I was going to marry. He was someone who could be taken away from me. any moment.

My grip on his hand tightened.

I gently took his hand between both of mine, gripping it tight as I pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“theek hai, agli baar se pehle, main hamesha yahan rahungi--” I paused, looking at his eyes, “—aapke paas.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hope yall liked this one! ily all smm

taglist - @misteriadare @softkissesandicecreams @roses-and-iron @nazmnotes @anxiousbeeing @pleasetagmejaaneman @itstiaofficial @avasif @marvelfamily3000 @lestatdebarbie @roohafterdark @precioussophia @viapapaayaya @maroonphase

[mainyahaankyunhoon]

Omg fiance!uzi is soo cute🩷

[mrgrungusthefrog]

uzi needs to be inside my jacuzzi

[soleneee]

uzi needs to be inside something entirely else--

who was that?! must have been the windd😻😻 (😭)

[mrgrungusthefrog]

wind real strong today

my jacuzzi is tight and warm uzi

[soleneee]

kinda fw the wind 👅

[soleneee]

aapke paas | uzair x zunaira !oc

author - tried this Uzair fanfic, was not even into bro that much, but boy did this community make me change my mind. kinda not proofread.

a very flirty Uzair x a very shy Zunaira ! includes tons of Hindi dialogue with no English translation ! warnings! minor injury by a bullet mentioned. words - 2.6k

i in no way or format am romanticising or normalising the actions of anyone involved in terror attacks in India. this is purely based on how these characters are portrayed by the actors and follows the storyline, plot and world created by Aditya Dhar.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was a peaceful morning. I had crashed over at Yalina’s place as we went out clubbing the previous night. Yalina’s father, who was like a father figure to me as well, taunted us with his usual remarks. I winced when he said,

“khuda kasam, ye tum dono ladkiyan mujhe paagal kar dogi! Aur Yalina, Zunaira ke saath aati kam se kam, usko chhod kar kis ladke ke saath aagyi tu?”

Yalina groaned, and replied, “abbu, aapko kitni baar bola! Zunaira ko bata kar hi hum uske saath aaye the, usko toh kuch problem nai hai jitna aapko ho rahi!”

“haan toh tu usko bolne thodi de rahi, bol Zunaira bacche, kya isne bataya tha tujhe?”

I looked between the father-daughter duo, knowing I had to lie to escape this.

“haan, uncle ji, isne bataya toh tha, lekin thoda jayda pee liya hoga maine, dhyaan hi nai gaya. Fhir, uzair ko call karke main idhar aayi.”

Jameel uncle let out an exasperated gasp. “arey bacche! Ushi ke saath chale jati, ye toh nalayak hain hi.” “abbu!!”

A laugh bubbled out of me at their exchange. I usually spent most of my time being here, knowing their dynamics well enough now. Aunty called us to the kitchen and served us hot parathas.

“aunty, aapke haath ka paratha, mashallah! Laa-jawaab hain!”

Yalina’s mother laughed blissfully at my comment, adding another paratha to my plate.

I was chatting away with uncle ji, him asking about my abbu.

My abbu was also a major figure in the politics field, hence how Yalina and I met. Though he wasn’t a politician, he regularly funded election campaigns alongside his work.

“ji, zaroor, main abbu ko ek din lekar aaungi—” before I could continue, a ring of a call sliced the conversation. I looked at the caller id, it was Uzair.

“Rukiye, mujhe ye zaroori call lena hoga.” Yalina raised her eyebrow at that, clearly having seen the caller id. I raised my own eyebrow at her, in a ‘what?’

I walked outside the dining, “hello?”

“kahaan ho?” uzair’s sweet voice laced with concern spoke through the speaker.

“Yalina ke ghar, sab khairiyat?”

“kaise kuch khairiyat hoga, tum ho hi nai mere paas.”

I bit my lip, stopping a smile from spreading.

“acchha? Mere nai hone se aapko itna kya farakk?”

“mangetar ho meri, tumhare bina saas bhi lena mushkil hai.”

I chuckled, “kuchh kaam tha kya?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t disturb me just because.

“haan, aisa nai hai ki main sirf tumhe kaam se phone karta hoon—” 

“jaanti hoon.”

I knew he was smiling now, if not, grinning.

“sab jaanti ho. Woh Rehman bhai ka kuchh kaam tha, khata update karne bula rahe the tumhe.”

“arrey, ishi hafte toh kiya tha? Fhir kaise?”

“pata nahi, unse poochna.” He shrugged.

“uzair….mujhe sirf udhar bulane ke liye toh nahi bol rhe na?” I said in a mock serious tone, knowing his tricks.

“huh? Nahi toh, main aisa kyu karoonga.”

He couldn’t sound more guilty.

I chuckled, cute.

“mujhe bulane ke liye rehman bhai ka naam lene ki zaroorat nahi hain, tumhe malum haina?”, “hmph, theek hai, aaogi kya?” , “aa jaungi.”

With that, I hung up the phone, returning to those tasty parathas.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being engaged to uzair baloch, brother of rehman dakait, meant respect and utmost respect in every form.

No one dared to bat an eye in the wrong way towards me, no one dared to speak lowly or wrongfully in front of me. It was an annoyingly blissful life.

I walked inside the Baloch haveli. It was an intricate piece of building, which seemed more homely due to the people who warmed the place.

I hugged Faizal as he came running towards me as soon as I stepped inside, ruffling his hairs, which made him whine.

Something about styling his hairs and me ruining it. I grinned.

Naieem was out of town for his further studies, so it was just one boy whom I got to annoy, except Uzair, of-course.  

I walked towards ulfat as she sat on a sofa, reading a book. Faizal again ran away to..whatever he was doing.

“Ulfat Bhabhi, Uzair kahan hain?”

She kept the book down as she heard my voice, her look of that of a frown. “kaise bacche hain, hi hello bhi nai bolte hain.”

“hi hello Bhabhi. Ab batayein, uzair kahan hai?”

Ulfat clicked her tongue, “apne kamre main hoga, khud dekh lo.”

“thankyou Bhabhi.” I grinned cheekily at her, walking towards his room as she shook her head in disappointment, hiding a smile.

Just as I opened the door, someone caught my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door abruptly behind me. I looked at Uzair with wide eyes. His own’s intensity burning into mine.

“kitna intazaar karwati ho?” he spoke, voice low as he got close. His hot breath fanning against my ear as he whispered. “kitne samay se tumhara intazaar kiya.”

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his waist as I looked up at him, and asked.

“sab khairiyat?”

“haan, ab sab khariyat.” He hugged me, face burying in between my neck and hairs, taking in a sharp intake of breath.

His smell of oud reached my nose, along with gunpowder. I frowned.

“aaj kuch masla hua kya?” I asked, breaking the hug, his arms still around me. Uzair looked into my eyes confused, but realized in a second.

“nahi, vo bas shirani ke paas gye the shipment lene. Udhar hamza aur main bandook se…khel rhe the.” He chuckled, probably remembering how hamza and he fired bullets into nothing.

“hamza aapka dost kam, mera shautan jayda lagta hai.” I frowned, again.

He laughed at that, “uski kya fikar kar rahi? Bhai hai sirf.” “hmm”

I broke out of his embrace as he said,“aur vaise bhi, aapki vo dost ke uppar uski jayda nazar hain, yalina.”

I rolled my eyes as I sat criss-crossed on his bed “kuch naya bataye, voh mujhe akela chord kar hamza ke saath chai gyi thi! Yakeen kar sakte hain aap?”

“haan, kar sakta hoon.” He chuckled, sitting besides me.

“khana khaye hai aap?” I asked him, “haan, kha toh chuka hoon..par..” he moved closer to me, his eyes dropping to my lips.

I quickly moved away from him, my cheeks reddening as they burned.

“haw, besharam!” he laughed at my reaction. “shauhar banne jaa raha hoon tumhara, aisa sharmaogi toh thodi kuch hone wala hai?”

“han toh karna kya hai?” I asked, eyes widening at his comments.

“itni bholi mat bano, jitni ho nahi.” He chuckled. I huffed, crossed my arms and looked to the other side in fake anger, earning a chuckle from him

“mujhe nai pata aap kya bol rhe.” “fhir bholi bann rahi, idhar aa.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

We all sat down to eat, Rehman bhai at the head, Ulfat Bhabhi at his head, me and uzair at his other side. We also convinced hamza to sit with us for dinner, which took a lot of convincing and emotional blackmailing.

At the end, all it took was this one small threat.

“main Yalina ko bata dungi aapki koi pasandida ladki hai.” I said, face serious.

Hamza’s eyes widened, at the threat and having his feelings exposed in front of Rehman bhai. He sat besides Faizal.

Akhlaq brought food to the table. I didn’t waste a single second before hogging the good parts of chicken. Uzair had his jaw dropped.

“ye kya matlab! Sab khud kha logi kya?” he whined, which earned a sharp retort from ulfat Bhabhi.

“uzair, vo roz khane nai aati, lene do use.” I stuck my tongue out at him, “yeh, yeh! Yeh dekha aapne?!” he exclaimed, voice a little higher.

“aap toh mere se bhi jayda bachkaani harkat karte hain.” Faizal spoke, earning a smack to his head from ulfat Bhabhi.

“Rukiye, main sabke liye paani laayi.” I said and stood up before anyone could protest.

I went to the kitchen, filled up glasses and walked back, placing the tray down as I sat down. I looked at my plate. The chicken pieces, gone.

I turned to uzair, sharply.

“tumne abhi mere plate se khaya?” I narrowed my eyes, assessing him.

“kuch sabot?” just as he said that, he chewed, as if nothing had happened.

I frowned, stealing my pieces back from his plate. “arrey!!” he protested.

“dekhein na inhe!” I complained, looking at Rehman bhai with innocent eyes.

“khane de usko, Uzair, roz nai aati hai voh humare saath khana khane”

Rehman chuckled as Uzair looked at him with betrayal. “bhai, aap bhi?”

I stole another piece off his plate, eating, feigning nonchalant-ness.

“kasam se..” uzair muttered under his breath, “ye ladki paagal karke chordegi mujhe.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was raining, the sound of water rapidly falling onto the roof and making sounds which should have calmed me, but didn’t.

They told me through a phone call.

Uzair got shot. The bullet did not penetrate him, but it left a deep wound.

I sat on a sofa, hugging my knees close to my chest. The rapid pitter patter matching the rate of my heartbeat. I was in Baloch haveli, having rushed here upon hearing the news and was now waiting for him.

A loud horn sounded outside, I ran towards the main gate, ignoring the wet drops falling on my body which was burning.

Hamza helped Uzair walk inside, him still being unconscious. A bandage was wrapped around his lower torso indicating the placement of his injury. I could not help the sob which escaped me. Salty tears escaped my eyes, mixing with rainwater as I quickly looped his other arm around my shoulder, helping him inside.

We walked in silence as Ulfat Bhabhi watched us, with empathy for the boy she raised since childhood.

Hamza and I entered Uzair’s room, carefully laying him down. I grabbed a towel from his wardrobe and started drying him up, so that he doesn’t catch a cold once he wakes up.

It was quiet for a while, until hamza broke the silence, “main..chalta hoon. Khayal rakhna.” I nodded at him, eyes puffy.

I started undressing Uzair, removing his wet pathani and tried my best to button the soft, dry cotton once instead. I couldn’t change his salwar.

I placed my palm on his forehead, shoulders slouching as I confirmed he didn’t have a fever yet.  

I stayed by his side the whole night, falling sleep with his hand held within my own, head laid besides our intertwined hands.

I woke up as soon as his fingers twitched in my grasp. Straightening my back as I looked worriedly at the man who is the cause of my happiest memories, now lying lifeless on his bed.

“Uzair? Tum uth gye?” he did not seem to register my voice, taking a while to look around, seeing the familiar walls of his own sanctuary. Worry and eagerness to hear his voice filled me.

It was finally when I said, “bolo na..” did he look at me.

“Zunaira?” he asked, confused, voice low and pained. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding as my name left his lips.

“haan…haan mai yahi hoon.” I sat besides him on his head, running my hair through his hairs, knowing he liked it when I did it.

Uzair tried to sit up straight, groaning as pain hit him. I quickly stood up to help him sit. “tumhe goli ke saath saath itne ghao bhi hai, kya kar rahe the, paagal?” I asked him softly, looking into his eyes, the same eyes which had shined when he had proposed to me, the same eyes which looked at me with love and mischief each day, the same eyes which now held a little guilt.

“maaf kardo, meri jaan—”

“sach sach batao.” I frowned, knowing I would not like whatever he would say.

“sacchh hi bolunga. Voh..shipment laate laate Arshad Pappu gher liya tha, bandookein chala raha tha, Hamza ne nikala humhe udhar se warna—”

“nahi, aage kuch bolna bhi nahi.” I sighed. “ye Arshad Pappu ke maa ka—”

“oyee gaali nahi!” He widened his eyes at my choice of words and asked. “kahan se seekh rahi ho ye sab?”

To which I replied, “aap din mai 5 baar toh gaali dete hain, kuch kaam-vaam ke kaaran.” I grinned. “arreyy par iska yeh matlab thodi tum bhi dogi? Ladkiya gaali dete acchhi nahi lagti.”

“ye kaisi baat?! Kuchh bhi na!” I huffed, annoyed.

“apne ghayal mangeter ke saath aisa vyahwaar karogi?” he looked at me with those sweet sweet eyes. I widened my eyes and stood up abruptly as he reminded me of his condition.

“oofho, shit, ruko aapke liye kuch khane ka laayi.”

Before I could walk away, Uzair grabbed my hands and pulled me back, making me sit besides him as he brought his face closer to mine. Our breaths mingling, nose touches.

“filhaal, bhookh toh kisi aur cheez ki hain.” He whispered into my ears as he kissed my earlobe.

“besharam! Theek toh hojao pehle!”

My cheeks turned red as he laughed at my reaction. His laugh quickly turning into a groan as he did so.

“hasso mat! Kuchh mat karo! Baithe raho..ya fhir aapko letna chaiye, jyda behtar hoga kyuki aapko itna lagi hain. Maine dekha jab aapke kapde badal rahi thi—”

“tumne mere kapde badle?” he raised an eyebrow, a glint of playfulness replacing the previous pain in his eyes.

I frowned in horror, “ nahi, mera matlab voh nahi tha—” he cut me off by simply laughing.

“itni pyaari lagti ho.” He tilted his head and warmly looked at me.

I scoffed, still flustered. “aapko toh bas mazaak hi sujhta hain.”

“nahi,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “tumhare sath har ek pal sacchh lagta hai.”

That made me pause. Uzair did not normally say things so..intensely. His voice laced with regret, worry and exhaustion.

That’s when I looked at him properly. His face was slightly pale, his hand lightly pressed against his bandaged wound.

“darr gaye the?” I asked, softer this time.

He intertwined his fingers with mine again, grip tighter than before.

“..haan.”

Just one word, and it spoke thousands alike.

My chest tightened as he continued.

“mujhe laga..” he continued, shallowing as he looked at anywhere but my eyes, “shayad wapis nahi aaunga.”

“chup.” I snapped, voice weak. “aisa kuchh nai hoga, samjhe aap?”

His eyes found mine again, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“itna haq jatati ho mujhpe?”

“haan,” I replied instantly. “poora haq hai mujhe.”

The rain outside had slowed now, turning into a soft drizzle and a dance of cold wind.

I shifted coser, carefully, and rested my head lightly against his shoulder

“agli baar…aise hero banne ki zaroorat nahi hai.” I muttered.

He chuckled faintly, a silent whine escaping him.

“agli baar bhi hoga.”

I pulled away immediately, glaring at him. “Uzair—”

“yeh meri zindagi hai, Zunaira. Aur isme ‘agli baar hamesha hota hai.” He said quietly.

I looked at him, I knew he was right, I knew what risks were involved with him and his life.

He was not just a boy who teased me, or the man I was going to marry. He was someone who could be taken away from me. any moment.

My grip on his hand tightened.

I gently took his hand between both of mine, gripping it tight as I pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“theek hai, agli baar se pehle, main hamesha yahan rahungi--” I paused, looking at his eyes, “—aapke paas.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hope yall liked this one! ily all smm

taglist - @misteriadare @softkissesandicecreams @roses-and-iron @nazmnotes @anxiousbeeing @pleasetagmejaaneman @itstiaofficial @avasif @marvelfamily3000 @lestatdebarbie @roohafterdark @precioussophia @viapapaayaya @maroonphase

[mainyahaankyunhoon]

Omg fiance!uzi is soo cute🩷

[mrgrungusthefrog]

uzi needs to be inside my jacuzzi

[soleneee]

uzi needs to be inside something entirely else--

who was that?! must have been the windd😻😻 (😭)

[soleneee]

aapke paas | uzair x zunaira !oc

author - tried this Uzair fanfic, was not even into bro that much, but boy did this community make me change my mind. kinda not proofread.

a very flirty Uzair x a very shy Zunaira ! includes tons of Hindi dialogue with no English translation ! warnings! minor injury by a bullet mentioned. words - 2.6k

i in no way or format am romanticising or normalising the actions of anyone involved in terror attacks in India. this is purely based on how these characters are portrayed by the actors and follows the storyline, plot and world created by Aditya Dhar.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was a peaceful morning. I had crashed over at Yalina’s place as we went out clubbing the previous night. Yalina’s father, who was like a father figure to me as well, taunted us with his usual remarks. I winced when he said,

“khuda kasam, ye tum dono ladkiyan mujhe paagal kar dogi! Aur Yalina, Zunaira ke saath aati kam se kam, usko chhod kar kis ladke ke saath aagyi tu?”

Yalina groaned, and replied, “abbu, aapko kitni baar bola! Zunaira ko bata kar hi hum uske saath aaye the, usko toh kuch problem nai hai jitna aapko ho rahi!”

“haan toh tu usko bolne thodi de rahi, bol Zunaira bacche, kya isne bataya tha tujhe?”

I looked between the father-daughter duo, knowing I had to lie to escape this.

“haan, uncle ji, isne bataya toh tha, lekin thoda jayda pee liya hoga maine, dhyaan hi nai gaya. Fhir, uzair ko call karke main idhar aayi.”

Jameel uncle let out an exasperated gasp. “arey bacche! Ushi ke saath chale jati, ye toh nalayak hain hi.” “abbu!!”

A laugh bubbled out of me at their exchange. I usually spent most of my time being here, knowing their dynamics well enough now. Aunty called us to the kitchen and served us hot parathas.

“aunty, aapke haath ka paratha, mashallah! Laa-jawaab hain!”

Yalina’s mother laughed blissfully at my comment, adding another paratha to my plate.

I was chatting away with uncle ji, him asking about my abbu.

My abbu was also a major figure in the politics field, hence how Yalina and I met. Though he wasn’t a politician, he regularly funded election campaigns alongside his work.

“ji, zaroor, main abbu ko ek din lekar aaungi—” before I could continue, a ring of a call sliced the conversation. I looked at the caller id, it was Uzair.

“Rukiye, mujhe ye zaroori call lena hoga.” Yalina raised her eyebrow at that, clearly having seen the caller id. I raised my own eyebrow at her, in a ‘what?’

I walked outside the dining, “hello?”

“kahaan ho?” uzair’s sweet voice laced with concern spoke through the speaker.

“Yalina ke ghar, sab khairiyat?”

“kaise kuch khairiyat hoga, tum ho hi nai mere paas.”

I bit my lip, stopping a smile from spreading.

“acchha? Mere nai hone se aapko itna kya farakk?”

“mangetar ho meri, tumhare bina saas bhi lena mushkil hai.”

I chuckled, “kuchh kaam tha kya?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t disturb me just because.

“haan, aisa nai hai ki main sirf tumhe kaam se phone karta hoon—” 

“jaanti hoon.”

I knew he was smiling now, if not, grinning.

“sab jaanti ho. Woh Rehman bhai ka kuchh kaam tha, khata update karne bula rahe the tumhe.”

“arrey, ishi hafte toh kiya tha? Fhir kaise?”

“pata nahi, unse poochna.” He shrugged.

“uzair….mujhe sirf udhar bulane ke liye toh nahi bol rhe na?” I said in a mock serious tone, knowing his tricks.

“huh? Nahi toh, main aisa kyu karoonga.”

He couldn’t sound more guilty.

I chuckled, cute.

“mujhe bulane ke liye rehman bhai ka naam lene ki zaroorat nahi hain, tumhe malum haina?”, “hmph, theek hai, aaogi kya?” , “aa jaungi.”

With that, I hung up the phone, returning to those tasty parathas.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being engaged to uzair baloch, brother of rehman dakait, meant respect and utmost respect in every form.

No one dared to bat an eye in the wrong way towards me, no one dared to speak lowly or wrongfully in front of me. It was an annoyingly blissful life.

I walked inside the Baloch haveli. It was an intricate piece of building, which seemed more homely due to the people who warmed the place.

I hugged Faizal as he came running towards me as soon as I stepped inside, ruffling his hairs, which made him whine.

Something about styling his hairs and me ruining it. I grinned.

Naieem was out of town for his further studies, so it was just one boy whom I got to annoy, except Uzair, of-course.  

I walked towards ulfat as she sat on a sofa, reading a book. Faizal again ran away to..whatever he was doing.

“Ulfat Bhabhi, Uzair kahan hain?”

She kept the book down as she heard my voice, her look of that of a frown. “kaise bacche hain, hi hello bhi nai bolte hain.”

“hi hello Bhabhi. Ab batayein, uzair kahan hai?”

Ulfat clicked her tongue, “apne kamre main hoga, khud dekh lo.”

“thankyou Bhabhi.” I grinned cheekily at her, walking towards his room as she shook her head in disappointment, hiding a smile.

Just as I opened the door, someone caught my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door abruptly behind me. I looked at Uzair with wide eyes. His own’s intensity burning into mine.

“kitna intazaar karwati ho?” he spoke, voice low as he got close. His hot breath fanning against my ear as he whispered. “kitne samay se tumhara intazaar kiya.”

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his waist as I looked up at him, and asked.

“sab khairiyat?”

“haan, ab sab khariyat.” He hugged me, face burying in between my neck and hairs, taking in a sharp intake of breath.

His smell of oud reached my nose, along with gunpowder. I frowned.

“aaj kuch masla hua kya?” I asked, breaking the hug, his arms still around me. Uzair looked into my eyes confused, but realized in a second.

“nahi, vo bas shirani ke paas gye the shipment lene. Udhar hamza aur main bandook se…khel rhe the.” He chuckled, probably remembering how hamza and he fired bullets into nothing.

“hamza aapka dost kam, mera shautan jayda lagta hai.” I frowned, again.

He laughed at that, “uski kya fikar kar rahi? Bhai hai sirf.” “hmm”

I broke out of his embrace as he said,“aur vaise bhi, aapki vo dost ke uppar uski jayda nazar hain, yalina.”

I rolled my eyes as I sat criss-crossed on his bed “kuch naya bataye, voh mujhe akela chord kar hamza ke saath chai gyi thi! Yakeen kar sakte hain aap?”

“haan, kar sakta hoon.” He chuckled, sitting besides me.

“khana khaye hai aap?” I asked him, “haan, kha toh chuka hoon..par..” he moved closer to me, his eyes dropping to my lips.

I quickly moved away from him, my cheeks reddening as they burned.

“haw, besharam!” he laughed at my reaction. “shauhar banne jaa raha hoon tumhara, aisa sharmaogi toh thodi kuch hone wala hai?”

“han toh karna kya hai?” I asked, eyes widening at his comments.

“itni bholi mat bano, jitni ho nahi.” He chuckled. I huffed, crossed my arms and looked to the other side in fake anger, earning a chuckle from him

“mujhe nai pata aap kya bol rhe.” “fhir bholi bann rahi, idhar aa.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

We all sat down to eat, Rehman bhai at the head, Ulfat Bhabhi at his head, me and uzair at his other side. We also convinced hamza to sit with us for dinner, which took a lot of convincing and emotional blackmailing.

At the end, all it took was this one small threat.

“main Yalina ko bata dungi aapki koi pasandida ladki hai.” I said, face serious.

Hamza’s eyes widened, at the threat and having his feelings exposed in front of Rehman bhai. He sat besides Faizal.

Akhlaq brought food to the table. I didn’t waste a single second before hogging the good parts of chicken. Uzair had his jaw dropped.

“ye kya matlab! Sab khud kha logi kya?” he whined, which earned a sharp retort from ulfat Bhabhi.

“uzair, vo roz khane nai aati, lene do use.” I stuck my tongue out at him, “yeh, yeh! Yeh dekha aapne?!” he exclaimed, voice a little higher.

“aap toh mere se bhi jayda bachkaani harkat karte hain.” Faizal spoke, earning a smack to his head from ulfat Bhabhi.

“Rukiye, main sabke liye paani laayi.” I said and stood up before anyone could protest.

I went to the kitchen, filled up glasses and walked back, placing the tray down as I sat down. I looked at my plate. The chicken pieces, gone.

I turned to uzair, sharply.

“tumne abhi mere plate se khaya?” I narrowed my eyes, assessing him.

“kuch sabot?” just as he said that, he chewed, as if nothing had happened.

I frowned, stealing my pieces back from his plate. “arrey!!” he protested.

“dekhein na inhe!” I complained, looking at Rehman bhai with innocent eyes.

“khane de usko, Uzair, roz nai aati hai voh humare saath khana khane”

Rehman chuckled as Uzair looked at him with betrayal. “bhai, aap bhi?”

I stole another piece off his plate, eating, feigning nonchalant-ness.

“kasam se..” uzair muttered under his breath, “ye ladki paagal karke chordegi mujhe.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was raining, the sound of water rapidly falling onto the roof and making sounds which should have calmed me, but didn’t.

They told me through a phone call.

Uzair got shot. The bullet did not penetrate him, but it left a deep wound.

I sat on a sofa, hugging my knees close to my chest. The rapid pitter patter matching the rate of my heartbeat. I was in Baloch haveli, having rushed here upon hearing the news and was now waiting for him.

A loud horn sounded outside, I ran towards the main gate, ignoring the wet drops falling on my body which was burning.

Hamza helped Uzair walk inside, him still being unconscious. A bandage was wrapped around his lower torso indicating the placement of his injury. I could not help the sob which escaped me. Salty tears escaped my eyes, mixing with rainwater as I quickly looped his other arm around my shoulder, helping him inside.

We walked in silence as Ulfat Bhabhi watched us, with empathy for the boy she raised since childhood.

Hamza and I entered Uzair’s room, carefully laying him down. I grabbed a towel from his wardrobe and started drying him up, so that he doesn’t catch a cold once he wakes up.

It was quiet for a while, until hamza broke the silence, “main..chalta hoon. Khayal rakhna.” I nodded at him, eyes puffy.

I started undressing Uzair, removing his wet pathani and tried my best to button the soft, dry cotton once instead. I couldn’t change his salwar.

I placed my palm on his forehead, shoulders slouching as I confirmed he didn’t have a fever yet.  

I stayed by his side the whole night, falling sleep with his hand held within my own, head laid besides our intertwined hands.

I woke up as soon as his fingers twitched in my grasp. Straightening my back as I looked worriedly at the man who is the cause of my happiest memories, now lying lifeless on his bed.

“Uzair? Tum uth gye?” he did not seem to register my voice, taking a while to look around, seeing the familiar walls of his own sanctuary. Worry and eagerness to hear his voice filled me.

It was finally when I said, “bolo na..” did he look at me.

“Zunaira?” he asked, confused, voice low and pained. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding as my name left his lips.

“haan…haan mai yahi hoon.” I sat besides him on his head, running my hair through his hairs, knowing he liked it when I did it.

Uzair tried to sit up straight, groaning as pain hit him. I quickly stood up to help him sit. “tumhe goli ke saath saath itne ghao bhi hai, kya kar rahe the, paagal?” I asked him softly, looking into his eyes, the same eyes which had shined when he had proposed to me, the same eyes which looked at me with love and mischief each day, the same eyes which now held a little guilt.

“maaf kardo, meri jaan—”

“sach sach batao.” I frowned, knowing I would not like whatever he would say.

“sacchh hi bolunga. Voh..shipment laate laate Arshad Pappu gher liya tha, bandookein chala raha tha, Hamza ne nikala humhe udhar se warna—”

“nahi, aage kuch bolna bhi nahi.” I sighed. “ye Arshad Pappu ke maa ka—”

“oyee gaali nahi!” He widened his eyes at my choice of words and asked. “kahan se seekh rahi ho ye sab?”

To which I replied, “aap din mai 5 baar toh gaali dete hain, kuch kaam-vaam ke kaaran.” I grinned. “arreyy par iska yeh matlab thodi tum bhi dogi? Ladkiya gaali dete acchhi nahi lagti.”

“ye kaisi baat?! Kuchh bhi na!” I huffed, annoyed.

“apne ghayal mangeter ke saath aisa vyahwaar karogi?” he looked at me with those sweet sweet eyes. I widened my eyes and stood up abruptly as he reminded me of his condition.

“oofho, shit, ruko aapke liye kuch khane ka laayi.”

Before I could walk away, Uzair grabbed my hands and pulled me back, making me sit besides him as he brought his face closer to mine. Our breaths mingling, nose touches.

“filhaal, bhookh toh kisi aur cheez ki hain.” He whispered into my ears as he kissed my earlobe.

“besharam! Theek toh hojao pehle!”

My cheeks turned red as he laughed at my reaction. His laugh quickly turning into a groan as he did so.

“hasso mat! Kuchh mat karo! Baithe raho..ya fhir aapko letna chaiye, jyda behtar hoga kyuki aapko itna lagi hain. Maine dekha jab aapke kapde badal rahi thi—”

“tumne mere kapde badle?” he raised an eyebrow, a glint of playfulness replacing the previous pain in his eyes.

I frowned in horror, “ nahi, mera matlab voh nahi tha—” he cut me off by simply laughing.

“itni pyaari lagti ho.” He tilted his head and warmly looked at me.

I scoffed, still flustered. “aapko toh bas mazaak hi sujhta hain.”

“nahi,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “tumhare sath har ek pal sacchh lagta hai.”

That made me pause. Uzair did not normally say things so..intensely. His voice laced with regret, worry and exhaustion.

That’s when I looked at him properly. His face was slightly pale, his hand lightly pressed against his bandaged wound.

“darr gaye the?” I asked, softer this time.

He intertwined his fingers with mine again, grip tighter than before.

“..haan.”

Just one word, and it spoke thousands alike.

My chest tightened as he continued.

“mujhe laga..” he continued, shallowing as he looked at anywhere but my eyes, “shayad wapis nahi aaunga.”

“chup.” I snapped, voice weak. “aisa kuchh nai hoga, samjhe aap?”

His eyes found mine again, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“itna haq jatati ho mujhpe?”

“haan,” I replied instantly. “poora haq hai mujhe.”

The rain outside had slowed now, turning into a soft drizzle and a dance of cold wind.

I shifted coser, carefully, and rested my head lightly against his shoulder

“agli baar…aise hero banne ki zaroorat nahi hai.” I muttered.

He chuckled faintly, a silent whine escaping him.

“agli baar bhi hoga.”

I pulled away immediately, glaring at him. “Uzair—”

“yeh meri zindagi hai, Zunaira. Aur isme ‘agli baar hamesha hota hai.” He said quietly.

I looked at him, I knew he was right, I knew what risks were involved with him and his life.

He was not just a boy who teased me, or the man I was going to marry. He was someone who could be taken away from me. any moment.

My grip on his hand tightened.

I gently took his hand between both of mine, gripping it tight as I pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“theek hai, agli baar se pehle, main hamesha yahan rahungi--” I paused, looking at his eyes, “—aapke paas.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hope yall liked this one! ily all smm

taglist - @misteriadare @softkissesandicecreams @roses-and-iron @nazmnotes @anxiousbeeing @pleasetagmejaaneman @itstiaofficial @avasif @marvelfamily3000 @lestatdebarbie @roohafterdark @precioussophia @viapapaayaya @maroonphase

[mainyahaankyunhoon]

Omg fiance!uzi is soo cute🩷

[soleneee]

hehe, poured all my love into writing him! 🩷

[soleneee]

Heheh hewwooooo

omgggg look whooo it isss😋😋

[soleneee]

aapke paas | uzair x zunaira !oc

author - tried this Uzair fanfic, was not even into bro that much, but boy did this community make me change my mind. kinda not proofread.

a very flirty Uzair x a very shy Zunaira ! includes tons of Hindi dialogue with no English translation ! warnings! minor injury by a bullet mentioned. words - 2.6k

i in no way or format am romanticising or normalising the actions of anyone involved in terror attacks in India. this is purely based on how these characters are portrayed by the actors and follows the storyline, plot and world created by Aditya Dhar.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was a peaceful morning. I had crashed over at Yalina’s place as we went out clubbing the previous night. Yalina’s father, who was like a father figure to me as well, taunted us with his usual remarks. I winced when he said,

“khuda kasam, ye tum dono ladkiyan mujhe paagal kar dogi! Aur Yalina, Zunaira ke saath aati kam se kam, usko chhod kar kis ladke ke saath aagyi tu?”

Yalina groaned, and replied, “abbu, aapko kitni baar bola! Zunaira ko bata kar hi hum uske saath aaye the, usko toh kuch problem nai hai jitna aapko ho rahi!”

“haan toh tu usko bolne thodi de rahi, bol Zunaira bacche, kya isne bataya tha tujhe?”

I looked between the father-daughter duo, knowing I had to lie to escape this.

“haan, uncle ji, isne bataya toh tha, lekin thoda jayda pee liya hoga maine, dhyaan hi nai gaya. Fhir, uzair ko call karke main idhar aayi.”

Jameel uncle let out an exasperated gasp. “arey bacche! Ushi ke saath chale jati, ye toh nalayak hain hi.” “abbu!!”

A laugh bubbled out of me at their exchange. I usually spent most of my time being here, knowing their dynamics well enough now. Aunty called us to the kitchen and served us hot parathas.

“aunty, aapke haath ka paratha, mashallah! Laa-jawaab hain!”

Yalina’s mother laughed blissfully at my comment, adding another paratha to my plate.

I was chatting away with uncle ji, him asking about my abbu.

My abbu was also a major figure in the politics field, hence how Yalina and I met. Though he wasn’t a politician, he regularly funded election campaigns alongside his work.

“ji, zaroor, main abbu ko ek din lekar aaungi—” before I could continue, a ring of a call sliced the conversation. I looked at the caller id, it was Uzair.

“Rukiye, mujhe ye zaroori call lena hoga.” Yalina raised her eyebrow at that, clearly having seen the caller id. I raised my own eyebrow at her, in a ‘what?’

I walked outside the dining, “hello?”

“kahaan ho?” uzair’s sweet voice laced with concern spoke through the speaker.

“Yalina ke ghar, sab khairiyat?”

“kaise kuch khairiyat hoga, tum ho hi nai mere paas.”

I bit my lip, stopping a smile from spreading.

“acchha? Mere nai hone se aapko itna kya farakk?”

“mangetar ho meri, tumhare bina saas bhi lena mushkil hai.”

I chuckled, “kuchh kaam tha kya?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t disturb me just because.

“haan, aisa nai hai ki main sirf tumhe kaam se phone karta hoon—” 

“jaanti hoon.”

I knew he was smiling now, if not, grinning.

“sab jaanti ho. Woh Rehman bhai ka kuchh kaam tha, khata update karne bula rahe the tumhe.”

“arrey, ishi hafte toh kiya tha? Fhir kaise?”

“pata nahi, unse poochna.” He shrugged.

“uzair….mujhe sirf udhar bulane ke liye toh nahi bol rhe na?” I said in a mock serious tone, knowing his tricks.

“huh? Nahi toh, main aisa kyu karoonga.”

He couldn’t sound more guilty.

I chuckled, cute.

“mujhe bulane ke liye rehman bhai ka naam lene ki zaroorat nahi hain, tumhe malum haina?”, “hmph, theek hai, aaogi kya?” , “aa jaungi.”

With that, I hung up the phone, returning to those tasty parathas.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being engaged to uzair baloch, brother of rehman dakait, meant respect and utmost respect in every form.

No one dared to bat an eye in the wrong way towards me, no one dared to speak lowly or wrongfully in front of me. It was an annoyingly blissful life.

I walked inside the Baloch haveli. It was an intricate piece of building, which seemed more homely due to the people who warmed the place.

I hugged Faizal as he came running towards me as soon as I stepped inside, ruffling his hairs, which made him whine.

Something about styling his hairs and me ruining it. I grinned.

Naieem was out of town for his further studies, so it was just one boy whom I got to annoy, except Uzair, of-course.  

I walked towards ulfat as she sat on a sofa, reading a book. Faizal again ran away to..whatever he was doing.

“Ulfat Bhabhi, Uzair kahan hain?”

She kept the book down as she heard my voice, her look of that of a frown. “kaise bacche hain, hi hello bhi nai bolte hain.”

“hi hello Bhabhi. Ab batayein, uzair kahan hai?”

Ulfat clicked her tongue, “apne kamre main hoga, khud dekh lo.”

“thankyou Bhabhi.” I grinned cheekily at her, walking towards his room as she shook her head in disappointment, hiding a smile.

Just as I opened the door, someone caught my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door abruptly behind me. I looked at Uzair with wide eyes. His own’s intensity burning into mine.

“kitna intazaar karwati ho?” he spoke, voice low as he got close. His hot breath fanning against my ear as he whispered. “kitne samay se tumhara intazaar kiya.”

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his waist as I looked up at him, and asked.

“sab khairiyat?”

“haan, ab sab khariyat.” He hugged me, face burying in between my neck and hairs, taking in a sharp intake of breath.

His smell of oud reached my nose, along with gunpowder. I frowned.

“aaj kuch masla hua kya?” I asked, breaking the hug, his arms still around me. Uzair looked into my eyes confused, but realized in a second.

“nahi, vo bas shirani ke paas gye the shipment lene. Udhar hamza aur main bandook se…khel rhe the.” He chuckled, probably remembering how hamza and he fired bullets into nothing.

“hamza aapka dost kam, mera shautan jayda lagta hai.” I frowned, again.

He laughed at that, “uski kya fikar kar rahi? Bhai hai sirf.” “hmm”

I broke out of his embrace as he said,“aur vaise bhi, aapki vo dost ke uppar uski jayda nazar hain, yalina.”

I rolled my eyes as I sat criss-crossed on his bed “kuch naya bataye, voh mujhe akela chord kar hamza ke saath chai gyi thi! Yakeen kar sakte hain aap?”

“haan, kar sakta hoon.” He chuckled, sitting besides me.

“khana khaye hai aap?” I asked him, “haan, kha toh chuka hoon..par..” he moved closer to me, his eyes dropping to my lips.

I quickly moved away from him, my cheeks reddening as they burned.

“haw, besharam!” he laughed at my reaction. “shauhar banne jaa raha hoon tumhara, aisa sharmaogi toh thodi kuch hone wala hai?”

“han toh karna kya hai?” I asked, eyes widening at his comments.

“itni bholi mat bano, jitni ho nahi.” He chuckled. I huffed, crossed my arms and looked to the other side in fake anger, earning a chuckle from him

“mujhe nai pata aap kya bol rhe.” “fhir bholi bann rahi, idhar aa.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

We all sat down to eat, Rehman bhai at the head, Ulfat Bhabhi at his head, me and uzair at his other side. We also convinced hamza to sit with us for dinner, which took a lot of convincing and emotional blackmailing.

At the end, all it took was this one small threat.

“main Yalina ko bata dungi aapki koi pasandida ladki hai.” I said, face serious.

Hamza’s eyes widened, at the threat and having his feelings exposed in front of Rehman bhai. He sat besides Faizal.

Akhlaq brought food to the table. I didn’t waste a single second before hogging the good parts of chicken. Uzair had his jaw dropped.

“ye kya matlab! Sab khud kha logi kya?” he whined, which earned a sharp retort from ulfat Bhabhi.

“uzair, vo roz khane nai aati, lene do use.” I stuck my tongue out at him, “yeh, yeh! Yeh dekha aapne?!” he exclaimed, voice a little higher.

“aap toh mere se bhi jayda bachkaani harkat karte hain.” Faizal spoke, earning a smack to his head from ulfat Bhabhi.

“Rukiye, main sabke liye paani laayi.” I said and stood up before anyone could protest.

I went to the kitchen, filled up glasses and walked back, placing the tray down as I sat down. I looked at my plate. The chicken pieces, gone.

I turned to uzair, sharply.

“tumne abhi mere plate se khaya?” I narrowed my eyes, assessing him.

“kuch sabot?” just as he said that, he chewed, as if nothing had happened.

I frowned, stealing my pieces back from his plate. “arrey!!” he protested.

“dekhein na inhe!” I complained, looking at Rehman bhai with innocent eyes.

“khane de usko, Uzair, roz nai aati hai voh humare saath khana khane”

Rehman chuckled as Uzair looked at him with betrayal. “bhai, aap bhi?”

I stole another piece off his plate, eating, feigning nonchalant-ness.

“kasam se..” uzair muttered under his breath, “ye ladki paagal karke chordegi mujhe.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was raining, the sound of water rapidly falling onto the roof and making sounds which should have calmed me, but didn’t.

They told me through a phone call.

Uzair got shot. The bullet did not penetrate him, but it left a deep wound.

I sat on a sofa, hugging my knees close to my chest. The rapid pitter patter matching the rate of my heartbeat. I was in Baloch haveli, having rushed here upon hearing the news and was now waiting for him.

A loud horn sounded outside, I ran towards the main gate, ignoring the wet drops falling on my body which was burning.

Hamza helped Uzair walk inside, him still being unconscious. A bandage was wrapped around his lower torso indicating the placement of his injury. I could not help the sob which escaped me. Salty tears escaped my eyes, mixing with rainwater as I quickly looped his other arm around my shoulder, helping him inside.

We walked in silence as Ulfat Bhabhi watched us, with empathy for the boy she raised since childhood.

Hamza and I entered Uzair’s room, carefully laying him down. I grabbed a towel from his wardrobe and started drying him up, so that he doesn’t catch a cold once he wakes up.

It was quiet for a while, until hamza broke the silence, “main..chalta hoon. Khayal rakhna.” I nodded at him, eyes puffy.

I started undressing Uzair, removing his wet pathani and tried my best to button the soft, dry cotton once instead. I couldn’t change his salwar.

I placed my palm on his forehead, shoulders slouching as I confirmed he didn’t have a fever yet.  

I stayed by his side the whole night, falling sleep with his hand held within my own, head laid besides our intertwined hands.

I woke up as soon as his fingers twitched in my grasp. Straightening my back as I looked worriedly at the man who is the cause of my happiest memories, now lying lifeless on his bed.

“Uzair? Tum uth gye?” he did not seem to register my voice, taking a while to look around, seeing the familiar walls of his own sanctuary. Worry and eagerness to hear his voice filled me.

It was finally when I said, “bolo na..” did he look at me.

“Zunaira?” he asked, confused, voice low and pained. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding as my name left his lips.

“haan…haan mai yahi hoon.” I sat besides him on his head, running my hair through his hairs, knowing he liked it when I did it.

Uzair tried to sit up straight, groaning as pain hit him. I quickly stood up to help him sit. “tumhe goli ke saath saath itne ghao bhi hai, kya kar rahe the, paagal?” I asked him softly, looking into his eyes, the same eyes which had shined when he had proposed to me, the same eyes which looked at me with love and mischief each day, the same eyes which now held a little guilt.

“maaf kardo, meri jaan—”

“sach sach batao.” I frowned, knowing I would not like whatever he would say.

“sacchh hi bolunga. Voh..shipment laate laate Arshad Pappu gher liya tha, bandookein chala raha tha, Hamza ne nikala humhe udhar se warna—”

“nahi, aage kuch bolna bhi nahi.” I sighed. “ye Arshad Pappu ke maa ka—”

“oyee gaali nahi!” He widened his eyes at my choice of words and asked. “kahan se seekh rahi ho ye sab?”

To which I replied, “aap din mai 5 baar toh gaali dete hain, kuch kaam-vaam ke kaaran.” I grinned. “arreyy par iska yeh matlab thodi tum bhi dogi? Ladkiya gaali dete acchhi nahi lagti.”

“ye kaisi baat?! Kuchh bhi na!” I huffed, annoyed.

“apne ghayal mangeter ke saath aisa vyahwaar karogi?” he looked at me with those sweet sweet eyes. I widened my eyes and stood up abruptly as he reminded me of his condition.

“oofho, shit, ruko aapke liye kuch khane ka laayi.”

Before I could walk away, Uzair grabbed my hands and pulled me back, making me sit besides him as he brought his face closer to mine. Our breaths mingling, nose touches.

“filhaal, bhookh toh kisi aur cheez ki hain.” He whispered into my ears as he kissed my earlobe.

“besharam! Theek toh hojao pehle!”

My cheeks turned red as he laughed at my reaction. His laugh quickly turning into a groan as he did so.

“hasso mat! Kuchh mat karo! Baithe raho..ya fhir aapko letna chaiye, jyda behtar hoga kyuki aapko itna lagi hain. Maine dekha jab aapke kapde badal rahi thi—”

“tumne mere kapde badle?” he raised an eyebrow, a glint of playfulness replacing the previous pain in his eyes.

I frowned in horror, “ nahi, mera matlab voh nahi tha—” he cut me off by simply laughing.

“itni pyaari lagti ho.” He tilted his head and warmly looked at me.

I scoffed, still flustered. “aapko toh bas mazaak hi sujhta hain.”

“nahi,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “tumhare sath har ek pal sacchh lagta hai.”

That made me pause. Uzair did not normally say things so..intensely. His voice laced with regret, worry and exhaustion.

That’s when I looked at him properly. His face was slightly pale, his hand lightly pressed against his bandaged wound.

“darr gaye the?” I asked, softer this time.

He intertwined his fingers with mine again, grip tighter than before.

“..haan.”

Just one word, and it spoke thousands alike.

My chest tightened as he continued.

“mujhe laga..” he continued, shallowing as he looked at anywhere but my eyes, “shayad wapis nahi aaunga.”

“chup.” I snapped, voice weak. “aisa kuchh nai hoga, samjhe aap?”

His eyes found mine again, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“itna haq jatati ho mujhpe?”

“haan,” I replied instantly. “poora haq hai mujhe.”

The rain outside had slowed now, turning into a soft drizzle and a dance of cold wind.

I shifted coser, carefully, and rested my head lightly against his shoulder

“agli baar…aise hero banne ki zaroorat nahi hai.” I muttered.

He chuckled faintly, a silent whine escaping him.

“agli baar bhi hoga.”

I pulled away immediately, glaring at him. “Uzair—”

“yeh meri zindagi hai, Zunaira. Aur isme ‘agli baar hamesha hota hai.” He said quietly.

I looked at him, I knew he was right, I knew what risks were involved with him and his life.

He was not just a boy who teased me, or the man I was going to marry. He was someone who could be taken away from me. any moment.

My grip on his hand tightened.

I gently took his hand between both of mine, gripping it tight as I pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“theek hai, agli baar se pehle, main hamesha yahan rahungi--” I paused, looking at his eyes, “—aapke paas.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hope yall liked this one! ily all smm

taglist - @misteriadare @softkissesandicecreams @roses-and-iron @nazmnotes @anxiousbeeing @pleasetagmejaaneman @itstiaofficial @avasif @marvelfamily3000 @lestatdebarbie @roohafterdark @precioussophia @viapapaayaya @maroonphase

[mrgrungusthefrog]

WE NEED MORW ATTENTION NON THIS ITS SO FUCKING GOOD

[soleneee]

YOU'RE TOO KIND OMFGGG ILYYYY

[soleneee]

aapke paas | uzair x zunaira !oc

author - tried this Uzair fanfic, was not even into bro that much, but boy did this community make me change my mind. kinda not proofread.

a very flirty Uzair x a very shy Zunaira ! includes tons of Hindi dialogue with no English translation ! warnings! minor injury by a bullet mentioned. words - 2.6k

i in no way or format am romanticising or normalising the actions of anyone involved in terror attacks in India. this is purely based on how these characters are portrayed by the actors and follows the storyline, plot and world created by Aditya Dhar.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was a peaceful morning. I had crashed over at Yalina’s place as we went out clubbing the previous night. Yalina’s father, who was like a father figure to me as well, taunted us with his usual remarks. I winced when he said,

“khuda kasam, ye tum dono ladkiyan mujhe paagal kar dogi! Aur Yalina, Zunaira ke saath aati kam se kam, usko chhod kar kis ladke ke saath aagyi tu?”

Yalina groaned, and replied, “abbu, aapko kitni baar bola! Zunaira ko bata kar hi hum uske saath aaye the, usko toh kuch problem nai hai jitna aapko ho rahi!”

“haan toh tu usko bolne thodi de rahi, bol Zunaira bacche, kya isne bataya tha tujhe?”

I looked between the father-daughter duo, knowing I had to lie to escape this.

“haan, uncle ji, isne bataya toh tha, lekin thoda jayda pee liya hoga maine, dhyaan hi nai gaya. Fhir, uzair ko call karke main idhar aayi.”

Jameel uncle let out an exasperated gasp. “arey bacche! Ushi ke saath chale jati, ye toh nalayak hain hi.” “abbu!!”

A laugh bubbled out of me at their exchange. I usually spent most of my time being here, knowing their dynamics well enough now. Aunty called us to the kitchen and served us hot parathas.

“aunty, aapke haath ka paratha, mashallah! Laa-jawaab hain!”

Yalina’s mother laughed blissfully at my comment, adding another paratha to my plate.

I was chatting away with uncle ji, him asking about my abbu.

My abbu was also a major figure in the politics field, hence how Yalina and I met. Though he wasn’t a politician, he regularly funded election campaigns alongside his work.

“ji, zaroor, main abbu ko ek din lekar aaungi—” before I could continue, a ring of a call sliced the conversation. I looked at the caller id, it was Uzair.

“Rukiye, mujhe ye zaroori call lena hoga.” Yalina raised her eyebrow at that, clearly having seen the caller id. I raised my own eyebrow at her, in a ‘what?’

I walked outside the dining, “hello?”

“kahaan ho?” uzair’s sweet voice laced with concern spoke through the speaker.

“Yalina ke ghar, sab khairiyat?”

“kaise kuch khairiyat hoga, tum ho hi nai mere paas.”

I bit my lip, stopping a smile from spreading.

“acchha? Mere nai hone se aapko itna kya farakk?”

“mangetar ho meri, tumhare bina saas bhi lena mushkil hai.”

I chuckled, “kuchh kaam tha kya?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t disturb me just because.

“haan, aisa nai hai ki main sirf tumhe kaam se phone karta hoon—” 

“jaanti hoon.”

I knew he was smiling now, if not, grinning.

“sab jaanti ho. Woh Rehman bhai ka kuchh kaam tha, khata update karne bula rahe the tumhe.”

“arrey, ishi hafte toh kiya tha? Fhir kaise?”

“pata nahi, unse poochna.” He shrugged.

“uzair….mujhe sirf udhar bulane ke liye toh nahi bol rhe na?” I said in a mock serious tone, knowing his tricks.

“huh? Nahi toh, main aisa kyu karoonga.”

He couldn’t sound more guilty.

I chuckled, cute.

“mujhe bulane ke liye rehman bhai ka naam lene ki zaroorat nahi hain, tumhe malum haina?”, “hmph, theek hai, aaogi kya?” , “aa jaungi.”

With that, I hung up the phone, returning to those tasty parathas.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being engaged to uzair baloch, brother of rehman dakait, meant respect and utmost respect in every form.

No one dared to bat an eye in the wrong way towards me, no one dared to speak lowly or wrongfully in front of me. It was an annoyingly blissful life.

I walked inside the Baloch haveli. It was an intricate piece of building, which seemed more homely due to the people who warmed the place.

I hugged Faizal as he came running towards me as soon as I stepped inside, ruffling his hairs, which made him whine.

Something about styling his hairs and me ruining it. I grinned.

Naieem was out of town for his further studies, so it was just one boy whom I got to annoy, except Uzair, of-course.  

I walked towards ulfat as she sat on a sofa, reading a book. Faizal again ran away to..whatever he was doing.

“Ulfat Bhabhi, Uzair kahan hain?”

She kept the book down as she heard my voice, her look of that of a frown. “kaise bacche hain, hi hello bhi nai bolte hain.”

“hi hello Bhabhi. Ab batayein, uzair kahan hai?”

Ulfat clicked her tongue, “apne kamre main hoga, khud dekh lo.”

“thankyou Bhabhi.” I grinned cheekily at her, walking towards his room as she shook her head in disappointment, hiding a smile.

Just as I opened the door, someone caught my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door abruptly behind me. I looked at Uzair with wide eyes. His own’s intensity burning into mine.

“kitna intazaar karwati ho?” he spoke, voice low as he got close. His hot breath fanning against my ear as he whispered. “kitne samay se tumhara intazaar kiya.”

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his waist as I looked up at him, and asked.

“sab khairiyat?”

“haan, ab sab khariyat.” He hugged me, face burying in between my neck and hairs, taking in a sharp intake of breath.

His smell of oud reached my nose, along with gunpowder. I frowned.

“aaj kuch masla hua kya?” I asked, breaking the hug, his arms still around me. Uzair looked into my eyes confused, but realized in a second.

“nahi, vo bas shirani ke paas gye the shipment lene. Udhar hamza aur main bandook se…khel rhe the.” He chuckled, probably remembering how hamza and he fired bullets into nothing.

“hamza aapka dost kam, mera shautan jayda lagta hai.” I frowned, again.

He laughed at that, “uski kya fikar kar rahi? Bhai hai sirf.” “hmm”

I broke out of his embrace as he said,“aur vaise bhi, aapki vo dost ke uppar uski jayda nazar hain, yalina.”

I rolled my eyes as I sat criss-crossed on his bed “kuch naya bataye, voh mujhe akela chord kar hamza ke saath chai gyi thi! Yakeen kar sakte hain aap?”

“haan, kar sakta hoon.” He chuckled, sitting besides me.

“khana khaye hai aap?” I asked him, “haan, kha toh chuka hoon..par..” he moved closer to me, his eyes dropping to my lips.

I quickly moved away from him, my cheeks reddening as they burned.

“haw, besharam!” he laughed at my reaction. “shauhar banne jaa raha hoon tumhara, aisa sharmaogi toh thodi kuch hone wala hai?”

“han toh karna kya hai?” I asked, eyes widening at his comments.

“itni bholi mat bano, jitni ho nahi.” He chuckled. I huffed, crossed my arms and looked to the other side in fake anger, earning a chuckle from him

“mujhe nai pata aap kya bol rhe.” “fhir bholi bann rahi, idhar aa.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

We all sat down to eat, Rehman bhai at the head, Ulfat Bhabhi at his side, me and uzair at his other side. We also convinced hamza to sit with us for dinner, which took a lot of convincing and emotional blackmail.

At the end, all it took was this one small threat.

“main Yalina ko bata dungi aapki koi pasandida ladki hai.” I said, face serious.

Hamza’s eyes widened, at the threat and having his feelings exposed in front of Rehman bhai. He sat besides Faizal.

Akhlaq brought food to the table. I didn’t waste a single second before hogging the good parts of chicken. Uzair had his jaw dropped.

“ye kya matlab! Sab khud kha logi kya?” he whined, which earned a sharp retort from ulfat Bhabhi.

“uzair, vo roz khane nai aati, lene do use.” I stuck my tongue out at him, “yeh, yeh! Yeh dekha aapne?!” he exclaimed, voice a little higher.

“aap toh mere se bhi jayda bachkaani harkat karte hain.” Faizal spoke, earning a smack to his head from ulfat Bhabhi.

“Rukiye, main sabke liye paani laayi.” I said and stood up before anyone could protest.

I went to the kitchen, filled up glasses and walked back, placing the tray down as I sat down. I looked at my plate. The chicken pieces, gone.

I turned to uzair, sharply.

“tumne abhi mere plate se khaya?” I narrowed my eyes, assessing him.

“kuch sabot?” just as he said that, he chewed, as if nothing had happened.

I frowned, stealing my pieces back from his plate. “arrey!!” he protested.

“dekhein na inhe!” I complained, looking at Rehman bhai with innocent eyes.

“khane de usko, Uzair, roz nai aati hai voh humare saath khana khane”

Rehman chuckled as Uzair looked at him with betrayal. “bhai, aap bhi?”

I stole another piece off his plate, eating, feigning nonchalant-ness.

“kasam se..” uzair muttered under his breath, “ye ladki paagal karke chordegi mujhe.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was raining, the sound of water rapidly falling onto the roof and making sounds which should have calmed me, but didn’t.

They told me through a phone call.

Uzair got shot. The bullet did not penetrate him, but it left a deep wound.

I sat on a sofa, hugging my knees close to my chest. The rapid pitter patter matching the rate of my heartbeat. I was in Baloch haveli, having rushed here upon hearing the news and was now waiting for him.

A loud horn sounded outside, I ran towards the main gate, ignoring the wet drops falling on my body which was burning.

Hamza helped Uzair walk inside, him still being unconscious. A bandage was wrapped around his lower torso indicating the placement of his injury. I could not help the sob which escaped me. Salty tears escaped my eyes, mixing with rainwater as I quickly looped his other arm around my shoulder, helping him inside.

We walked in silence as Ulfat Bhabhi watched us, with empathy for the boy she raised since childhood.

Hamza and I entered Uzair’s room, carefully laying him down. I grabbed a towel from his wardrobe and started drying him up, so that he doesn’t catch a cold once he wakes up.

It was quiet for a while, until hamza broke the silence, “main..chalta hoon. Khayal rakhna.” I nodded at him, eyes puffy.

I started undressing Uzair, removing his wet pathani and tried my best to button the soft, dry cotton once instead. I couldn’t change his salwar.

I placed my palm on his forehead, shoulders slouching as I confirmed he didn’t have a fever yet.  

I stayed by his side the whole night, falling sleep with his hand held within my own, head laid besides our intertwined hands.

I woke up as soon as his fingers twitched in my grasp. Straightening my back as I looked worriedly at the man who is the cause of my happiest memories, now lying lifeless on his bed.

“Uzair? Tum uth gye?” he did not seem to register my voice, taking a while to look around, seeing the familiar walls of his own sanctuary. Worry and eagerness to hear his voice filled me.

It was finally when I said, “bolo na..” did he look at me.

“Zunaira?” he asked, confused, voice low and pained. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding as my name left his lips.

“haan…haan mai yahi hoon.” I sat besides him on his bed, running my hair through his hairs, knowing he liked it when I did it.

Uzair tried to sit up straight, groaning as pain hit him. I quickly stood up to help him sit. “tumhe goli ke saath saath itne ghao bhi hai, kya kar rahe the, paagal?” I asked him softly, looking into his eyes, the same eyes which had shined when he had proposed to me, the same eyes which looked at me with love and mischief each day, the same eyes which now held a little guilt.

“maaf kardo, meri jaan—”

“sach sach batao.” I frowned, knowing I would not like whatever he would say.

“sacchh hi bolunga. Voh..shipment laate laate Arshad Pappu gher liya tha, bandookein chala raha tha, Hamza ne nikala humhe udhar se warna—”

“nahi, aage kuch bolna bhi nahi.” I sighed. “ye Arshad Pappu ke maa ka—”

“oyee gaali nahi!” He widened his eyes at my choice of words and asked. “kahan se seekh rahi ho ye sab?”

To which I replied, “aap din mai 5 baar toh gaali dete hain, kuch kaam-vaam ke kaaran.” I grinned. “arreyy par iska yeh matlab thodi tum bhi dogi? Ladkiya gaali dete acchhi nahi lagti.”

“ye kaisi baat?! Kuchh bhi na!” I huffed, annoyed.

“apne ghayal mangeter ke saath aisa vyahwaar karogi?” he looked at me with those sweet sweet eyes. I widened my eyes and stood up abruptly as he reminded me of his condition.

“oofho, shit, ruko aapke liye kuch khane ka laayi.”

Before I could walk away, Uzair grabbed my hands and pulled me back, making me sit besides him as he brought his face closer to mine. Our breaths mingling, nose touches.

“filhaal, bhookh toh kisi aur cheez ki hain.” He whispered into my ears as he kissed my earlobe.

“besharam! Theek toh hojao pehle!”

My cheeks turned red as he laughed at my reaction. His laugh quickly turning into a groan as he did so.

“hasso mat! Kuchh mat karo! Baithe raho..ya fhir aapko letna chaiye, jyda behtar hoga kyuki aapko itna lagi hain. Maine dekha jab aapke kapde badal rahi thi—”

“tumne mere kapde badle?” he raised an eyebrow, a glint of playfulness replacing the previous pain in his eyes.

I frowned in horror, “ nahi, mera matlab voh nahi tha—” he cut me off by simply laughing.

“itni pyaari lagti ho.” He tilted his head and warmly looked at me.

I scoffed, still flustered. “aapko toh bas mazaak hi sujhta hain.”

“nahi,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “tumhare sath har ek pal sacchh lagta hai.”

That made me pause. Uzair did not normally say things so..intensely. His voice laced with regret, worry and exhaustion.

That’s when I looked at him properly. His face was slightly pale, his hand lightly pressed against his bandaged wound.

“darr gaye the?” I asked, softer this time.

He intertwined his fingers with mine again, grip tighter than before.

“..haan.”

Just one word, and it spoke thousands alike.

My chest tightened as he continued.

“mujhe laga..” he continued, shallowing as he looked at anywhere but my eyes, “shayad wapis nahi aaunga.”

“chup.” I snapped, voice weak. “aisa kuchh nai hoga, samjhe aap?”

His eyes found mine again, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“itna haq jatati ho mujhpe?”

“haan,” I replied instantly. “poora haq hai mujhe.”

The rain outside had slowed now, turning into a soft drizzle and a dance of cold wind.

I shifted coser, carefully, and rested my head lightly against his shoulder

“agli baar…aise hero banne ki zaroorat nahi hai.” I muttered.

He chuckled faintly, a silent whine escaping him.

“agli baar bhi hoga.”

I pulled away immediately, glaring at him. “Uzair—”

“yeh meri zindagi hai, Zunaira. Aur isme ‘agli baar hamesha hota hai.” He said quietly.

I looked at him, I knew he was right, I knew what risks were involved with him and his life.

He was not just a boy who teased me, or the man I was going to marry. He was someone who could be taken away from me. any moment.

My grip on his hand tightened.

I gently took his hand between both of mine, gripping it tight as I pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“theek hai, agli baar se pehle, main hamesha yahan rahungi--” I paused, looking at his eyes, “—aapke paas.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hope yall liked this one! ily all smm

taglist - @misteriadare @softkissesandicecreams @roses-and-iron @nazmnotes @anxiousbeeing @pleasetagmejaaneman @itstiaofficial @avasif @marvelfamily3000 @lestatdebarbie @roohafterdark @precioussophia @viapapaayaya @maroonphase

[soleneee]

aadat | hamza x reader

author - multiple digs at writing, first at posting, xD. thanks to @roses-and-iron, who motivated me enough for this short work to see the light of day. also, this might be poorly written, so feedback and such is appreciated! also, yet to figure out how tumblr works.

warnings! gore scenes , minor character death, smoking. fluff basically with a tinge of violence becuz i felt like it.

i in no way or format am romanticising or normalising the actions of those behind multiple terror attacks that took place in india. this is simply based on the portrayal of these characters by our lovely actors.

Naieem was dead.

I had been at the wedding, I had been with him, and still… I lost him.

I sat on a plastic chair outside the morgue, elbows on my knees, face buried in my palm, stopping sobs as I took a deep breath and calmed myself.

Aalam bhai held Faizal close in his embrace.

Nothing felt steady. Nothing felt real. The quiet was deafening.

And yet, everything had already changed.

I lifted my head to see that he was still there.

The hazel-eyed man from earlier--the one who had pulled Faizal out before things went to hell-- stood near the gate, arms crossed in front of him, blood staining his white cloth, watching without really looking like he belonged.

Like he was placed there.

My gaze lingered longer than it should have. He noticed.

Of course he did, it seems as if he notices every thing.

Our eyes met, brief, unreadable, and then I looked away first.

The air changed before the gates even opened, and I saw my abbu between those two doors.

Rehman Dakait walked in first, looking miserable with teary eyes and a shimmering anger, followed by Uzair, Donga and Siyahi.

Something in me broke the moment our eyes met.

I stood up too quickly, knees weak as I rushed towards him. The moment his arms wrapped around me, a sob left me.

Faizal joined us, and we were three bodies, filled with heavy, suffocating grief.

Faizal murmured how that hazel-eyed man saved him, and abbu slowly let go of us.

I looked at Uzair as concern laced his eyes. I nodded towards that man as they went to interrogate him.

I held Faizal close, until the doors opened again and ammi walked in.

Straight to Abbu.

I took a sharp breath as she slapped him, sound echoing- sharp and unforgiving.

She wailed and he hugged her.  

The air turned thick, filled with the loss of a young man who had a bright future ahead of him.

“Appi, mujhe accounting karni hai apne school ke baad.”

He had told me once. He had everything planned.

“bacche ko nai maarna tha” I murmured to myself as I squeezed Faizal in my arms.

I watched as the hazel-eyed man, named Hamza, refused the money.

I watched as Abbu made him a part of the gang.

I scoffed.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

It had been over a week since Hamza joined the gang.

Uzair stuck to him as if he were his only source of water.

I was looking at the ledger open in front of me, barely paying attention as I watched the boys playing football.

They were having fun, being alive in a way that felt almost wrong after my younger brother’s passing.

They plopped down beside me once they were finished, getting comfortable and lighting cigarettes.   “y/n, khel liya kar, nai harayenge,” Uzair teased with a wink.

“chachu, harane ki baat toh aap mujhse na kare,” I winked. “Aapse jawaan hu”

He chuckled, shaking his head “jyada tez ho rhi hai”

Smoke curled lazily around us. When Donga offered Hamza a cigarette, he took a puff, then he coughed.

Like he wasn’t used to it.

But that didn’t add up.

I had seen him smoking. A few days back. So, why the act?

My eyes found his and he looked straight into mine.

But before anything could happen, Abbu walked in.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Abbu was going to take revenge.

Hamza gave the idea. Abbu had looked at me. I nodded.

It was settled.

By evening, the place had quieted down. Everyone had scattered, the previous laughter faded into silence.

I found him near his new bike.

“tum pehle smoke karte the na?”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow as I looked at him.

He glanced at me, a playful glint visible in his eyes as he replied.

“aap nazar rakh rahi hain mujhpe?”

“maine pehle sawaal pucha,” I shot back instantly.

A sound escaped him, close to a chuckle.

“haan.” He said, tilting his head slightly, “karta hoon smoke.”

He almost looked..amused.

“toh fhir woh naatak kyun kiya?”

He smirked.

“aap har cheez notice karti hain ya sirf mujhe?”

I exhaled, unimpressed.

“aapka dimaag thoda sa dense hai”

The corners of his lips lifted in a faint smile.

“phir bhi,” Hamza said, pushing himself off the bike slightly, “aapka dhyaan mujhpe hi rehta hai.”

I tilted my head, studying him now.

“galat fehmi mein rehna aapki aadat hai ya nayi cheez hai?”

He let out a quiet huff of amusement, and took a step closer. The faint smell of oud reached me.

“mujhe laga aapko sach pasand hai,” he said, voice low, almost thoughtful.

“haan, lekin faltu baatein nahi,” I replied just as quickly.

Neither of us moved for a second.

Then, he looked away.

“Agli baar,” he said casually, reaching for his bike, “seedha pooch lijiye.”

He swung himself onto it in one smooth motion.

“Naatak karne ki zarurat nahi padegi.”

I scoffed.

“main naatak karti hoon?”

He glanced back at me, that same faint smile returning. “thoda sa.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

I sat close to him, smiling shyly, pretending, acting like nothing beneath the surface existed.

He was a member of Babu Dakait’s gang. He had been at the wedding. Fired gun shots. Killed Naieem.

He was showing me something on his phone. I leaned closer, all innocence. Every motion measured.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Zayed. One of Abbu’s men. He nodded, subtle but I understood.

I picked up a brick beside me, tracing my other hand along his hair as if to lace my fingers through it. Then, in one swift motion, I gripped his head and pulled at his hair. Hard.

He screamed, voice panicked and loud, but before he could react, I slammed the brick against his skull. Force coming from both my hands as one pushed his head towards the brick and the other slammed the brick, down on his skull.

Blood spattered across my face as I repeated the motion, once, twice, thrice, until Zayed stopped me.

I stood there, panting, eyes wide, staring at his lifeless body. His blood pooled across the concrete road, the fragments of his brain marking a gruesome scene. I wiped a bloodied hand across my face, painting my face in red.

“Let’s go,” I barked, eyes settling on Zayed. “Chachu called us to Cheel Chowk.”

He nodded, as serious as ever.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Rehman Dakait had killed his own father, Babu Dakait and declared the rule of Baloch across all of Lyari.

I couldn’t have been prouder of my abbu. But still, my eyes drifted towards the hazel-eyed man.

He looked…fine.

Too fine.

Before I could look away, he caught my eyes, and winked.

I rolled my eyes instantly, looking away like it meant nothing, brushing it off.

“Beghairat,” I muttered under my breath. But still, my lips betrayed me with the faintest hint of a smile.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The air at Baloch Haveli was calm after the storm today.

I found Hamza a few paces away from the main gate, smoking.

“badi khatarnak lag rahi thi aaj”

 I raised an eyebrow at his remark.

“dekha mujhe?”

“aajkal sirf aapko hi dekhta hu” he said, taking in a long puff.

I stood dumbfounded.

“fhir dekhte rahiye-”

I tilted my head slightly.

“-aadat ho jayegi.”

For a second, he didn’t respond. He just looked at me. Properly this time. His gaze intense as if he was prying into my soul.

Something in his expression shifted, though I couldn’t place what.

“ho rahi hai,” He said finally, voice low, almost like he said something he wasn’t supposed to.

I blinked. That wasn’t the response I was expecting.

“Tez ho aap” I muttered, looking away as I folded my arms tighter than necessary.

A soft huff of laughter left him, along with smoke.

“Abhi toh aapne hi kaha tha, dekhte rahiye”

I looked back at him, narrowing my eyes slightly.

“Har baat itni seriously lete ho?”

“Har baat nahi,”

A drag.

“bas jo zaroori ho.”

Something about that, lingered.

He flicked the ash off his cigarette, gaze still on me.

“Waise,” he added casually, “aaj ka scene..”

I stilled, waiting for his next words.

“…impressive tha”

“aapne dekha? Zyada dekh liya fhir.”

“kam dekhta toh shayad samajh nai aata,” he replied, still looking at me.

I didn’t like how easily he said it.

“Samajhne layak kuch tha bhi nai.” I said, brushing it off.

He stepped a little closer. “Galat,” he said quietly.

My eyes snapped to his, having to tilt my head upwards..he was so close.  

“Sab kuch samajhne layak hota hai,” he continued, almost as if he was deciphering something. “Bas.. har koi samajh nai pata.”.

I straightened slightly, breaking eye contact first, and spoke a second late.

“Achha hai,” I said, tone neutral again. “Aap samjh lete ho.”

“Try karta hoon,” he replied.

The only sound left was his lighter clicking shut.

Not awkward. Not heavy. Just..aware.

Somewhere in a distance, a voice called out, breaking the moment.

He glanced away briefly, then back at me.

“late ho jayega,’ he said.

“main late nahi hoti,” I replied automatically.

A faint smile returned.

“Janta hoon.”

Before I could respond, he crushed the cigarette under his shoe and stepped back.

“Kal milte hain,” he added, to which I did not reply.  

I just watched as he walked past me, close enough for the faint smell of oud to linger again, and then disappear into the dim lights of the haveli.

And yet.

I was still standing there.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

It had been a few weeks since then.

Everything was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary.

Except for Hamza.

He always found me.

Or, I always found him.

The tension kept growing.

“pagal hai kya?! Chaaku se kyun khelna hai tujhe!” Uzair snapped.

“areyy chachu,” I snickered, twirling the knife lightly, “khud ka bhi toh dhyan rakhna hoga na mujhe, kab tak patthar se logo ko maarti rahungi”

“lag-vag jayegi tujhe faltu, aur tujhe ye karne ki kya zarurat hai?”

“self defense, chachuu!!” I stretched the word, grinning

“uski kya zarurat,” he repeated. “main hoon na.”

“han toh aap hamesha thodi rehte ho!”I shot back pointing the knife toward him with a mock serious expression.

“toh kya hua,” he scoffed “tu hamza se toh itna chipki rehti hai. Woh dhyaan dega na tera.”

I froze, eyes widening.

And heard a chuckle behind me.

I spun around, the knife still raised,

and came face to face with Hamza.

Too close.

Far too close.

The blade hovered near his neck.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“arey behen ke pakode!”

I immediately pulled my hand back.

“chot lag jati tumhe!”

He simply chuckled.

“Nahin lagi na. Bas.”

“Pagal ho, sacchi.” I muttered.

“aur haan bhai,” hamza said, glancing at uzair, and then without warning

he looped an arm around my shoulders.

“merse chipki rahegi toh thodi kuch hone dunga.”

My jaw dropped.

Uzair burst out laughing.

“chachuu!,” I complained, pointing at him. “Dekho isko! Nai chipakti mein inse!”

That only made them laugh more.

“sab ke sab bahot bure ho, ekdum! Bohot bure!”

and yet,

I didn’t move.

didn’t step away.

Stayed exactly where I was.

In the hold of those strong arms.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

It was nothing.

The bullet barely grazed me.

And yet, he was furious.

“seedha haath do,” hamza muttered, grabbing my wrist before I could pull away.

“arey itna bhi kuch nai hua—”

“chup”

I blinked as I was shunned into silence. He didn’t even look at me when he said it, his focus on cleaning the wound, his grip firm but careful. The sting hit a second later.

“ah—”

“dard ho raha hai?”  he asked immediately, his tone shifting without warning.

I frowned.

“obviously ho raha hai.”

He clicked his tongue under his breath, more annoyed at himself than me. And for a moment, neither of us uttered a word. Silence filling the gap between us. Only the low sound of him wrapping the bandage around my hand.

Slow, precise, like he’d done this multiple times.

“y/n.” he said, quieter now.

“haan?”

“main nahi tha..”

He paused, his jaw tightening slightly.

“..iska matlab ye nahi ki tum apna dhyaan nahi rakhogi.” I stilled.

“kitni chinta hoti hai mujhe tumhari,” he added, almost frustrated now. “tumhe malum hai?”

I looked at him properly. Really looked, and saw his brows were slightly furrowed, his eyes fixed on my hand like the bullet had actually penetrated.

“..kyun?”

I asked softly. His hands stopping for a second, before he resumed. Like the question caught him off guard.

“paagal..” he muttered under his breath. “pyaar karta hoon tujhse.”

Silence.

He froze. Seconds passed between us as neither of us spoke. The words hung between us. Heavy, unexpected. Irreversible.

His gaze lifted to meet mine, an uncomprehensible glint in it.

Realisation hit him, and for once, hamza did not have control over the situation.

“Achha?” I said finally, voice calm, too calm.

He didn’t respond and didn’t take it back either.

“pyaar karte ho?” I repeated, tilting my head slightly.

A beat

“..haan.”

He said it without hesitation this time. Something in my chest tightened.

I looked down at my bandaged hand, then back at him.

“late ho gaye aap.”

Before he could say anything-

I stepped closer.

Close enough to see the flicker in his eyes.

“main toh pehle se hi—” I trailed off. A faint smile tugged at my lips. “—aadat daal chuki hoon, tumhari.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

author - if it wasnt clear, i originally planned for this one to take a different route, as the introduction suggests but then i decided otherwise cause..idk lol hope you enjoyed this! ily all smm

tagging - @misteriadare @softkissesandicecreams @nazmnotes @roses-and-iron