Hoshwaalon Ko Khabar Kya, Bekhudi Kya Cheez Hai.
(Akshaye Khanna X Saumya Tandon - angst, hurt/comfort, smut)
Bengali!AU Rehman X Ulfat:
Headcanons 1
Memes + Headcanons 2
Memes pt3 (shoutout @prahelika !!)
Memes pt4
Memes pt5
Memes pt6 ('when im in a __ competition')
Krishnochura - @nevereversaygoodbye 's fic!
Drabble (smut) - by @prahelika-fics !
Moodboard - @hamzakamehroomkurta <3
Bengali!Ulfat inspo 💗
Mahashashti Madness <3 and its sequel Mahasaptami Melodies <3 - smut drabbles by me ‼️
Headcanons: Part 1 and Part 2 - @gheekhatamhaibhai :3
Uzair Headcannons: Part 1 and Part 2 - @hamzakamehroomkurta <3
PENDING REQUESTS-
AK x costar!reader
AK x Saumya x onscreendaughter!oc
AK x Saumya OS/blurb
jealous!AK x reader OS
AK x Saumya enemies to lovers
rehman x yalina smut
Hi guys, I wouldn't have shared this message here unless I was really desperate.
A stray cat in my area is severely injured and is in urgent need of medical care. I have hospitalised him as soon as I could but the post surgery cost is really high for me to afford. I am unemployed, and only have 2k inr that I have already used for him. Nobody is willing to help out and everyone keeps saying to just let him succumb to the injuries. I am thinking of taking a loan from a shopkeep here...but I would need to return the money. I don't know what I'll do. I am really anxious and scared rn. If you guys could help out or even share the donation link, it would mean the world to me.
Ketto is crowdfunding website in India! With Ketto.org you can Start Campaigns to raise funds for causes such as Medical, Education, Memoria
Picture of the injured cat is attached below. See at your own discretion.
ok but did any of you realise rehman dying first and uzair having to live with that fact for the rest of his life (that too in a prison) was a parallel to naieem dying and faizal having to live with it or are you normal
A/N: sooo this is a continuation -or rather, sequel- of my Bengali!AU rehman x ulfat oneshot/drabble, Mahashashti Madness, do go read that first. will have translated dialogues for my non-bengali babies !!
word count: ~3.5k words
genre: fuff, smut, basically pwnp with even less plot than the last part (js straight to the saxxsuxx)
TW: none as such, js slow and lazy morning sex- OH WAIT mentions of breeding kink 🥰
The pale, rain-washed gold of a humid October morning - MahaSaptami, to be precise, filtered through the heavy louvered shutters of the master bedroom, slicing across the tangled sheets and the quiet, post-coital wreckage of the night before. The scent of burning dhuno from the thakurdalaan below had long since thinned out, replaced by the damp, earthy fragrance of early morning dew being carried along by the winds from the Hooghly river.
Ulfat stirred, still in the hazy line between sleep and consciousness, a soft sigh escaping her lips. The moment she tried to stretch her legs under the cotton quilt, a dull ache radiated straight from the small of her back down through the inner expanse of her thighs. Her muscles felt thoroughly used, heavy, and intensely tender; a vivid reminder of the mahogany desk and the feral rhythm of Rehman’s hips from the hours before.
Beside her, the monster responsible for her predicament was still dead to the world, buried in a deep sleep. Rehman was sprawled on his stomach, his large, scarred back completely bare, his dark curls damp and messy against the white pillowcase. One of his massive, heavy arms was still hooked possessively over her waist, his broad palm resting directly against her bare hip, anchoring her to his side like an anchor keeping a ship from drifting into the sea.
Ulfat looked down at him, a tender, helpless warmth melting the exhaustion in her chest. She reached out, her fingers gently brushing a stray, dark curl away from his forehead. "Pagol ekta..." (Absolute madman...) she whispered under her breath, her eyes tracing the sharp, resting line of his jaw.
With a slow, heavy breath, she carefully slipped out from under his weight. The cool morning air hit her bare skin, making her shiver as she realized her crimson handloom saree and shredded underwear were still discarded somewhere in the dark corners of the room. She was entirely naked, save for the heavy silver kamarbandh that had slid crookedly against her hip, its intricate metal bells jingliing softly in the quiet room.
She didn't want to wake the house, nor did she want to leave the warm cocoon of their sanctuary just yet. Her eyes drifted to the vintage wooden gramophone resting on the brass-accented console table in the corner of the room. A dusty, heavy vinyl record was already sitting on the turntable.
On a romantic, wholly domestic whim, she gently lowered the brass needle onto the grooved surface.
A faint hiss and crackle filled the quiet bedroom before a timeless, melancholic melody began to breathe through the horn. The soulful, velvety voice of Geeta Dutt floated out, slow and enchanting:
"Tumi je amar, ogo tumi je amar... kaane kaane shudhu ekbar bolo, tumi je amar..." (You are mine, oh you are mine... whisper in my ears just once, that you are mine...)
The soft swell of the music reached Rehman through the fog of his deep sleep. He let out a low groan from the back of his throat, his jaw twitching as he slowly rolled onto his back. His heavy eyelids fluttered open, dark and bloodshot, fixed instantly on the breathtaking silhouette of his wife standing by the gramophone.
His breath hitched, his lower belly instantly tightening with a heavy, throbbing ache that completely obliterated the last remnants of his sleep.
"Erom bhabe gaan bajiye, khola chul-e shari chara samne darale... tor ei shob bhorbelar naakhra dekhe ami ki kore shanto thaki, bol toh? Gaan chaliye boro prem jegechhe shokal shokal, na?" (When you play a song like this, standing before me with open hair and no saree... how am I supposed to remain calm seeing your early morning whims and fancies, hmm? Tell me? Playing music, someone's feeling awfully romantic early in the morning, aren't they?) Rehman rasped, a slow, lazy, incredibly smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He stretched out one arm, his fingers flexing against the rumpled sheets. "Edike aay. Amar kache aay. Gaan ta shuye shuye shon." (Come here. Come to me. Listen to the song while lying down.)
Ulfat walked back to the bed, a soft, teasing glint in her eyes as she crawled back under the quilt, immediately curling into his side. "Keno? Jomidaar-babu-r ki shudhu raat-ei prem jage? Aar ki emon aache tomar kachhe, je aashbo? Shudhu toh oshobbhota... raat-e ja korle, amar ekhono shorir ta dicche na, jano toh?" (Why? Does Mister Zamindaar's romance only start at night? And what do you have anyways, that i should come to you? Just shamelessness... after what you did last night, my body is still not cooperating, do you know?)
“Raat er kotha raat-ei thakuk. Ekhon shokal hoyegechhe. Pujo-r shokal tao abar. Ektu na lagale hoy? Ekbar... khali ekbar, khub aaste aaste korbo, shono na. Ekhon khali ektu aador chai, shona ma amar... eibar er ta ghumiye ghumiye-i korbo. Erom shuye-i thakbo... ektu lagate de, chomchom. Sotti bolchhi, ekdom jor korbo na. Tor ektu-o koshto hobe na." (Let what happened last night stay at last night. Its morning now, the morning of a festival, that too. Can we really do without a bit of action? I’ll go slow, just once, love, listen to me. I just want your affection, my sweet girl... this time we'll do it lazily, half-asleep. We'll just stay lying down like this... let me do it, my sweet. I swear, I won't go hard at all. You won't feel a single bit of discomfort.)
Ulfat’s defense crumbled completely under the heavy, warm pressure of his body and the sweet, dizzying itch spreading between her thighs. She let out a soft sigh, pouting, her arm wrapping around his neck, her fingers tangling into his dark hair. "Shotti toh? Jor korbe na? Ekhono kintu byatha ache..." (Promise? You won't go hard? I’m still very sore...)
"Ekdom-i na... khub aaste, shotti!" (Absolutely not... totally slow, really!) he whispered groggily against her skin, his voice taking on a mock-offended lilt, as if he was shocked she could even think he’d go against his word.
“Naa.. mane, bola toh jaayna, tumi toh ekkebare jontu-janowar-der moto koro laganor shomoy, ke jaane abar shei bhoot chepe jabe. Ektuo prem-pirit-aador er bhaab aar ache tomar moddhye?” (No, you know.. You never know, you always end up behaving like a wild beast while we do it, who knows, maybe you’ll do the same now too. Do you even have a speck of love, romance or affection left in you?) she teased, her eyes glinting as she saw his eyebrow furrow and his arms pull her closer.
"Prem noy toh ki? Ek bela chokher shamne chhili na, buk-er bhetor ta fete jacchilo amar. Aar mamoni bolen naki prem nei." (If that wasn't love, then what is? You were hidden from my eyes for a whole evening, my insides were tearing apart. And now the missus says there's no romance.)
"Hyan, hyan, dekhlam toh kemon prem," (Yes, yes, I saw what kind of love it was,) she whispered, her fingers trailing lazily through the dark hair on his chest, tracing the gold chain around his neck. "Shokal hoye geche, Rehman. Bhorer arati shuru hoye jabe thakurdalaan-e. Khoka-ra o jege jabe. Chharo ekhon, koyekta kaaj egiye ni." (It's morning, Rehman. The dawn prayers will start in the courtyard. The boys will also wake up. Let go now, let me finish a few chores.)
"O shob kaaj Uzair dekhbe. Aaj tomar chuti." (Uzair will handle all those chores. Today you are on leave.) Rehman muttered, his legs tangling with hers beneath the heavy sheets, his lower belly pressing flat against her hips.
Through the shared warmth, Ulfat felt it instantly- he was already thick, rigid, and fully erect again, throbbing with a lazy, heavy morning desire.
Rehman reached down under the quilt, his large, rough hand sliding between her thighs. He didn't rush. His fingers, heavy with sleep, lazily stroked the tender flesh of her inner thighs, parting them gently, his thumb finding her soaking wet slit. Even without much foreplay, she was already dripping, the leftover midnight release mixing with her arousal, keeping her slick and incredibly sensitive.
"Dekho... ekhono kemon bhije aachho," (Look... how wet you still are.) Rehman whispered against her lips, his thumb rubbing over her clit in a slow, hypnotic rhythm that made Ulfat let out a soft whimper, her eyes closing instantly as she tangled her fingers into his messy hair. "Shob amar jonno, na? Bol, chomchom... kaar jonno?" (It's all for me, isn't it? Tell me, my sweet... who is it for?)
"Tumi na... boddo beshi kotha bolo," (You... you talk way too much,) she panted softly, her breath hitching as the slow, heavy friction of his thumb began to wake up the throbbing ache between her legs, turning the soreness into a hot, tingling need. "Lagabe toh lagao... eto jalao keno, uff..." (If you're going to put it in, then do it... why do you torture me so much...)
Rehman let out a soft, deep chuckle, the vibration warming her chest. "Tui-i toh aaste korte bolli. Ekhon aastei toh korchhi... ghumiye ghumiye." (Didn't you tell me to go slowly? Now I am doing it slowly... sleepily.)
Still lying on his side, Rehman lifted her upper leg, draping it lazily over his hip to expose her fully. He guided the blunt, thick head of his cock against her wet, sliding walls. He didn't deliver a powerful thrust. Instead, he simply leaned his weight forward, sliding his thick length inch by inch into her tight warmth, using the natural angle of their side-by-side bodies to bottom out completely against her cervix.
"Ah... Rehman... uff," Ulfat gasped into his mouth, her back arching slightly as the sheer, overwhelming fullness stretched her open once again. Because they were lying down, the penetration felt incredibly deep, every single throbbing vein of his shaft pressing hard against her sensitive internal walls.
"Haan... emni bhabe thak," (Yes... stay just like this,) Rehman groaned, a soft gasp escaping his own lips as her tight muscles immediately clamped down around him like a vice. He began to move his hips in a slow, lazy, circular grind, rubbing against her overstimulated clit.
The rhythm was completely unhurried, perfectly matching the slow tempo of the gramophone song. There was no frantic pounding, no breathless screaming of last night; just the heavy, wet sound of their skin sliding together and the rhythmic, metallic clinking of her silver kamarbandh shifting against him. Rehman kept his face buried in the crook of her neck, his teeth lightly grazing her skin, his hands lazily stroking her waist, molding her body closer whenever he dragged himself out to the very tip before sliding back in. Every time Rehman shifted his pelvis forward in that slow, side-lying angle, the thick root of his cock pressed firmly against her outer lips, forcing her internal walls to ripple around him in tight, involuntary tremors.
"Rehman... mmm, shona..." Ulfat whispered against his jaw, her eyes squeezed shut as she let her forehead sink into the hollow of his shoulder. Her hands were weak, her fingers loosely gripping the thick, knotted muscles of his back, feeling the slow, rhythmic flexing of his spine with every lazy push. "Erom... erom bhabe nile... bhetor bhetor kemon ekta jeno hoy..." (When you take me like this… I feel so strange inside...)
"Kemon hoy, bolo?" (How does it feel, tell me?) Rehman mumbled, his words slipping against the sensitive column of her throat, his lips leaving hot, damp trails along her skin. He didn't lift his head; he was too comfortably anchored between her thighs to pull away. He simply nudged his lower body forward again, his hip bone slamming with a soft, dull thud against her. "Bhalo lage? Bolo, lokkhiti... bhalo lage?" (Does it feel good? Tell me, my love... does it feel good?)
"Hyan... boddo bhalo," (Yes... too good,) she gasped out, her lower lip trembling as his thick, blunt head caught against the highly sensitive cluster of nerves right at her entrance before sliding all the way back into her tight, melting canal.
Rehman’s large, calloused hand left her waist, sliding up under the quilt to find her tits. His fingers were slow, almost clumsy with sleep, but his grip was unyielding as he cupped the soft flesh, his thumb tracing the overstimulated peak until she arched her back with a breathless whimper.
"Ah! Tumi... shotti... ekdom bacchha-der moto..." (Ah! You... truly... the things you do, just like a child...) Ulfat panted, her breath hitching as he pulled her closer, the friction of his coarse chest hair rubbing against her bare nipples, sending a shock straight down to her core.
"Bacchha?" (A child?) Rehman let out a low, gravelly chuckle that vibrated deep in his chest against hers. His eyes remained half-closed, his long lashes shadowing his cheekbones, but his mouth found her lips, tasting her with a lazy, deep hunger. His tongue slid into her mouth, thick and slow, mimicking the agonizingly deep, grinding motion of his groin beneath the sheets. "Baccha-der kotha tulish na kintu ekhon, shonamoni. Duto toh achei, aarekta hoyejaak, naki? Bole de, toke chepe dhore aareka diye di ekhoni?" (Don’t bring up the kids right now, sweetheart. We already have two, you want one more or what, huh? Tell me, should I pin you down right now and put another one in you?), he grinned.
"Oshobbhotami-r shesh nei tomar... mukh-e ekhon kishob kotha je aano na..." (Shameless to no end... so many of god-knows-what words from your mouth now...) she whined into the kiss, her face flushing a brilliant crimson. But her body was completely betraying her words. Her hips began to move on their own, tilting upward in a lazy, circular motion that perfectly met his downward grinds.
Rehman let out a ragged breath against her lips, his lower jaw locking as he felt her internal muscles instantly pulsing around his shaft. Hearing her scold him for his shameless words hadn't slowed him down; it had only made the thick, rigid length of his cock throb harder inside her, swelling until he was stretching her walls to their absolute limit.
"Kishob kotha?" (What kind of words?) Rehman mumbled into her mouth, his tongue lazily tracing the seam of her lips before pushing deeply inside, tasting her with a slow, consuming possessiveness. He ground his pelvis flat against hers. "Shotti-i toh bolchhi. Bhorbelar arati-r aage bhetor-e arekta di, shona? Tor bhetor-e amar arekta baccha hok... bol, nibi?" (I'm telling the truth. Before the morning prayers, should I put another one inside you, sweetheart? Let another baby of mine grow in you... tell me, will you take it?)
“Rehman! Ki- mane, na- a-ami-” (Rehman! Wha- I mean, no- I-) Ulfat gasped, her voice cracking. The graphic weight of his breeding talk was making her head spin, sending a violent, dizzying wave of heat straight down to her womb. Her walls clenched hard around him, dripping a thick, hot slickness that leaked down his cock with every slow, circular shift of his groin.
"Nibi toh? Mukhe na bolle-o, bhetor ta toh ekdom chepe dhorchhe amar ta ke," (You'll take it, won't you? Even if you don't say it out loud, you're gripping my cock so tightly,) Rehman rasped. His large hand remained clamped onto her breast, squeezing the soft flesh with a slow, heavy pressure, his thumb ruthlessly frictioning the apex until she was shaking beneath him.
"Tumi je amar... ogo tumi je amar..."
The music seemed to pull the final boundaries from Ulfat's mind. She wrapped her arms tightly around his massive shoulders, her nails digging into the scarred skin of his back as a sudden, sharp pressure began to coil tightly in her lower belly. The slow, deep grinding of his cock against her cervix was too accurate, too overstimulating. Every single throbbing vein of his shaft felt magnified in the quiet morning light, drilling a hot, helpless ache into her womb.
"Rehman... ogo, shono... ami... aar parbo na..." (Rehman... dear, listen... I... I can't hold back anymore...) she whimpered, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps against his chest, her toes curling under the quilt.
“Aahare, chotto shona ta amar.. Chere dao na, shonamoni; ami ki baron korechi?” (Aww, my little darling.. Let go, sweetheart; I haven’t forbidden it, have I?) The raw, predatory instinct of the Boro-korta flared up through the fog of his sleep. He gripped her upper thigh hard, hoisting her hip slightly higher to change the angle, and began to deliver short, brutal thrusts. He wasn't pulling out anymore; he was simply drilling into her with a heavy, frantic force.
When Ulfat let out a particularly loud wail, Rehman did not miss the opportunity to tease her further. "Tsk-tsk-tsk, erom bhabe kedo na, shona, pasher ghore chele duto jege jabe, tumi-i toh bolechile." (Tsk-tsk-tsk, don't cry like this, sweetheart, the boys in the next room will wake up; your words, not mine.) He bottomed out completely until their hip bones touched. "Ei, duto chele toh peyechhish amar theke, ebar ekta choto meye chai na tor? Tor moto dekhte hobe... bol, baniye di?" (Hey, you’ve got two boys from me, don't you want a little girl now? She’ll look just like you... tell me, should I make her for you?) he bit his lip, trying - and failing - to hide a grin.
Ulfat couldn’t even answer him; her mouth was wide open, her breath escaping in ragged, melodic gasps as the fantasy of carrying another one of his babies coiled tight in her lower belly, turning the tingling ache into a demanding throb. Her internal walls were acting on their own now, clamping down around his thick shaft with an aggressive, milking suction that threatened to pull Rehman over the edge right then and there.
A sudden, violent spasm took over Ulfat's lower belly. "Rehman- ah!" she screamed softly into his shoulder, her fingers clawing into the thick muscles of his back as her orgasm shattered her completely. The contractions were brutal and frequent, washing over her in hot, throbbing waves that left her entirely breathless, her pelvis tilting up instinctively to drink in every bit of his depth.
Feeling her climax break around him was the absolute final thread. Rehman let out a low groan from the back of his throat, his face twisting into an expression of pure, agonized ecstasy. He didn't pull back. With a series of ragged, violent twitches, he came. He held himself pinned deep inside her womb, his eyes closed tight as a thick, hot, seemingly endless torrent of his seed pumped directly into her core, filling her up to the absolute brim.
The record on the gramophone reached its final, lingering note, and with a soft, mechanical click, the needle slid back, leaving the room in a heavy, warm silence.
Rehman remained buried deep inside her for a long time, his dead weight pinning her leg down, his chest rising and falling heavily against her bare breasts. Slowly, with a soft, wet sound, he began to pull out, his seed slowly oozing out of her slick canal, dripping onto the rumpled sheets beneath them.
He didn't move away, though. He reached down, his large, rough palm sliding over her bare, slick tummy, rubbing the skin in a slow, possessive circle right where his seed was pooled deep inside her.
"Ki go? Meye-r kotha ta bhable?" (What happened? Did you think about the girl?) Rehman teased sleepily.
"Thhash kore mere debo ebar." (One tight slap I'll give you.) Ulfat murmured, her voice completely fading, thick with an absolute, heavy exhaustion as she snuggled her face deeper into the hair on his chest, her hand resting over his racing heart. "Shob shomoy khali... mukh-e ja aashe tai bolo. Tumi na... ekkebaare janowar ekta." (All the time... you just say whatever comes to mind. You truly are... a beast.)
"Hyan, ami janowar-i thakbo, aar tui amar-i thakbi. Ebar abar ekta ghum diye ne, naki?" (Yes, I'll remain a beast, and you'll remain mine. Now, take another nap, or what?)
"Tumi toh ghumate dile na... Jomidaar hoye shob shomoy khali khaajna aday kora," (You toh didn't let me sleep... being the Zamindaar, all you do is constantly collect your taxes,) Ulfat murmured, her voice completely fading as she snuggled deeper into his chest, her hand resting over his heart.
Rehman let out a low, satisfied chuckle, his eyes already closing again. "Tor kach theke toh khaajna nitei hobe, chomchom. Aar bhorer arati-r kotha bhule ja... aaj puro din tor ei khatei kaatbe." (I *have* to collect fines from you, my sweet. And forget about the dawn prayers... today you’ll spend the whole day in this bed. )
Ulfat didn't reply, her slow, steady breathing telling him she had already slipped back into a deep sleep. Rehman smiled, locking his massive arms around her waist like an iron bar, finally letting his own mind drift off. The household tasks and the Saptami rituals could wait; today, the lord of DakaatBari was exactly where he belonged- in bed with his wife.
what if i wrote a second part, just for the aforementioned round 2? what if i was already writing it. what if i tell you im probably gonna post it by tonight.
🥰
would yall like that 🥰🥰 (yes it will have translations ><)
EDIT: it has been posted! Its called Mahasaptami Melodies, go check it out!
A/N: based on my Rehman x Ulfat bengali!AU headcanons and this idea, shoutout to @rosesandpeoniesthings and @nevereversaygoodbye !! with translated dialogues because my non-bengali babies begged me to be let in on the fun :3 pretty sure i gave myself like 2 ? 3 ? orgasms while writing this so i think i did a pretty good job. also look whos back to their roots of posting at the oddest of times (my sleep schedule is writing its suicide note rn)
word count: ~4.3k words
genre: fluff, smut, basically a pwnp oneshot/drabble.
TW: none as such, some parts may sound a bit dubcon-ish esp to my non bengali readers but i can't explain it, it's just how bangla is and most of us bengali girls are, we WILL be like no no and deny it even though we want it 😭 ulfat is no different
It was Mahashashti, and the massive DakaatBari mansion was entirely alive with a chaotic, buzzing energy. The air inside the thakurdaalan was heavy with the thick, suffocating smell of burning dhuno, crushed marigold petals, and the evening breeze blowing in from the Hooghly river, as Rehman, the Boro-korta of the house, sat on a low, velvet-draped divan, his long legs stretched out carelessly in front of him. He was dressed in a pristine white silk panjabi, the fine fabric stretched tight across the broad expanse of his chest, the top three gold buttons left casually undone, his fingers adorned with gold rings that glinted in the light of the brass oil lamps.
Surrounding him were the regional gang leaders, local traders, and shifting political allies who had traveled specifically to pay their respects to the most feared landlord in Bengal.
Outwardly, Rehman was the picture of terrifying, calculated hospitality. He laughed deeply at a corrupt merchant's joke, took long, slow drags from his ornamental hookah, and nodded along to the logistical complaints of his smugglers.
Inwardly, he was losing his goddamn mind.
Because across the courtyard, entirely oblivious to the small army of men hanging onto every word her husband uttered, Ulfat was finalizing her departure.
She was taking Naieem and Faizal out for an evening of pandal hopping across the kachakachi para-r pujos. It wasn’t a long trip; just a single evening, a few hours at most - but to Rehman, who had spent the last few days entirely consumed by the logistical nightmare of handling the estate’s own bari-r Durga Puja and weapon smuggling routes, even ek bela without her presence felt like a prison sentence.
Worse, she had dressed for the occasion.
Ulfat was wearing a heavy, traditional crimson saree that wrapped around her soft curves like a second skin, the rich fabric emphasizing the line of her hips and the smallness of her waist. But it wasn’t the saree that had Rehman’s knuckles turning white against the hookah pipe. It was the blouse. A deep, plunging, midnight-black silk blouse that was completely backless, held together by nothing more than two impossibly thin string ties knotted at her spine. Every single time she turned around to adjust Faizal’s small dhuti or wipe a smudge of dirt from Naieem’s cheek, a vast, smooth expanse of her pale, creamy skin was exposed to the cool evening air. The delicate, hollow indentation of her lower back, trailing down toward where the heavy saree was tucked into her petticoat, was entirely bare.
"Ogo, shunchho?" (Hey, are you listening?) Ulfat’s voice drifted across the chaotic courtyard, sweet and clear over the din of the dhak drums practicing near the gate.
Rehman let out a thick cloud of smoke, his eyes instantly locking onto hers. "Bolo, shona." (Yes, sweetheart?)
"Ami chele duto ke niye berocchhi." (I’m going out with the boys.) she said, stepping closer to the edge of the dalaan, her shankha-pola clinking rhythmically. She didn't step directly into the circle of men, but the teasing curve of her lips told him she knew exactly what his intense stare meant. "Firte firte ektu deri hote pare. Tumi thakurdalaan-er kaaj gulo guchhiye nio, aar enara chole gele luchi gulo kheye niyo, ami rannaghor-e dheke rekhechhi." (It may be a bit late by the time we return. Finish up whatever work you have here, and after they go, have the luchis, I’ve kept them covered in the kitchen.)
Rehman didn't care about the luchis. Hell, he didn't care about anything right now, really. His eyes traced the sharp line of her collarbone, down to the soft swell of her breasts hidden beneath the red silk pleats, and then finally back to her exposed back as she turned slightly to call out to their sons.
"Uzair!" Rehman’s voice boomed across the dalaan, deep and rough, cutting through the conversations instantly.
Uzair, who was busy trying to untangle a massive string of tuni lights near the main pillars, ran over, looking exhausted. "Haan, Dadabhai? Ki hoyeche?" (Yes, dada? What happened?)
"Tui oder shonge jaa." (Go with them.) Rehman commanded, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Oder sathe sathe thakbi. Dekhbi jeno Naieem aar Faizal ek pa-o edik shedik na jaay. Aar shon-" (Stay close by. Make sure Naieem and Faizal don’t go off somewhere. And listen-) Rehman leaned forward, his voice dropping into a low, threatening rumble that only his brother could hear. "jodi kono hotocchhara tor boudi-r dike chokh tule takay, okhanei guli kore dibi. Tar porer thana-police ami dekhe nebo." (If some scoundrel dares to even look up at your sister in law, shoot him then and there. I’ll handle the legalities and the police after that if need be.)
Uzair swallowed hard, looking between his brother’s wild eyes and his boudi. He immediately understood the assignment. "Ami achhi toh, Dada. Chaap niyo na. Ami ekta paan theke chun o khoshte debo na." (I’m here, dada. Don’t stress. I won’t let anything go wrong.)
Ulfat adjusted her aachol, a soft, amused laugh escaping her lips as she watched her husband’s protective frenzy. "Uff, eto chinta koro keno? Para-r pujo, shobai chene amader. Chollam ami." (Uff, why do you worry so much? Its only nearby pandals anyway, everyone knows us. I’ll be off now.)
Rehman watched her walk away. He watched the way her hips swayed under the heavy crimson silk, the way the thin black strings shifted against the smooth skin of her spine with every step she took. The moment she stepped out of the main gates of DakaatBari, the entire mansion felt entirely empty to him. The dhaak-er awaaj sounded hollow. The tobacco tasted bitter.
For the rest of the evening, Rehman felt like he was going to go mad. Here he was, surrounded by men he would rather shoot, putting on a performance of laughing along to their jokes which suddenly started sounding unfunny now that his chokh-er moni (apple of his eye) was not in a one meter radius. Every single minute felt like a year. His skin felt hot, his palms sweaty, his lower belly tight with a heavy, throbbing ache that only one woman in the entire province of Bengal - no scratch that, the entire world- could soothe.
After a hearty dinner, the “guests” had left. It was well past his sons’ bedtime when the footsteps of his family’s return finally echoed through the outer courtyard.
Rehman didn't wait. He literally threw his gorod-er panjabi onto the aramkedara, walking towards the main gate in nothing but his tight, sleeveless white sando genji and his dhuti, his shoulders glistening with a fine sheen of sweat from the humidity.
Uzair practically stumbled in, looking thoroughly defeated, holding a half-asleep Faizal over his shoulder while Naieem dragged his feet behind him.
"Baap re baap, dada, tor chele-gulo-ke shamlate amar toh obostha tight hoye gelo re!" (Good lord, dada, looking after your sons will be the death of me!) Uzair groaned, not even looking at Rehman as he staggered toward his room. "Sharakkhon khai-khai lege ache dutor! Faizal terota phuchka kheyeche, aar Naieem toh ponero ta kheyeche. Ami gelam ghumate, shorir ta dicche naa aar." (Constantly demanding food, the both of them. Faizal ate thirteen panipuris, and Naieem ate fifteen. I'm off to sleep, I can't take any more.)
Rehman didn't even hear him.
Ulfat had stepped in, looking slightly disheveled but breathtakingly beautiful. The night air had dampened her dark curls, making them cling to the sides of her neck. Her red saree was slightly loosened from hours of walking, the pleats slipping a little lower on her waist, revealing the soft curve of her hip. And her blouse, god, that black blouse - the strings were now slightly damp, biting into the smooth flesh of her back.
The moment her feet touched the cool stone of the courtyard, Rehman closed the distance between them. He didn't care that a few security guards were still patrolling the perimeter. He grabbed her kamarbandh, yanking her with a sudden, violent force that sent her crashing straight against his solid chest.
"Oma! Ki korchho ta ki!" (Oh god! What do you think you’re doing?) Ulfat gasped, her hands instantly coming up to press against his bare shoulders, her eyes wide with surprise. "Gari-wala achhe, darowan ra ache, keu dekhe felbe toh-" (The driver is still there, the guards are there, someone will see-)
"Chup," (Shh.) Rehman growled. He buried his face straight into the crook of her neck, inhaling sharply. She still smelled faintly of the expensive jasmine attar he had bought her. "Ek bela... puro ekta bela tui amar samne chilish na. Janish amar ki obostha hochhillo niche?" (One whole evening.. the entire evening, you weren't in front of me. Do you even know what kind of torture i was going through at the thakurdaalan?)
"Tumi toh niche lokjon er sathe chile," (But you were with so many people.) she whispered, her breath hitching as Rehman’s lips pressed a hard, bruising kiss right against her collarbone, his fingers tightening against her hip. She allowed him to drag her up the stairs, her feet barely touching the steps as he practically carried her toward the privacy of the upper floor. "Ah, tumi erom bacchha-der moto koro keno? Chharo, ami haath-mukh dhuye ashi..." (Oh, why must you act like such a child? Leave me, let me wash my face and hands..)
"Na." (No.) Rehman muttered, his grip tightening as they finally reached the massive double doors of the master bedroom. He kicked the heavy teak wood doors open, hauled her inside, and slammed them shut behind them, throwing the heavy brass cross-bar lock into place with a loud clank.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint, golden glow of a single kerosene lamp burning on the vanity table.
Ulfat backed away slightly, her heart hammering against her ribs as she looked at him. Rehman looked especially unhinged in this light. The dark hair on his chest was peeking out the top of his genji and the gold chain around his neck was glinting in the lamplight. His chest was heaving, his eyes completely dark with an intense, needy lust that she knew all too well.
"Rehman, ektu shanto hao-" (Rehman, calm down now- ) she tried to say, her voice trembling slightly as she adjusted her aachol, though the sheer weight of his gaze was making her knees weak. "Ami khub klanto, shona, koto hetechhi aaj pandal gulo-te. Shari ta chharte dao, ami ektu haath mukh ta dhuye ashi-" (I’m very tired, darling, I’ve walked so much today at the pandals. Let me change out of my saree, wash myself up a bit-)
“Na. Bollam toh, na, tumi kothhao jaabe na.” (No. I told you, no, you aren’t going anywhere.) Rehman said, sounding almost like a petulant child, closing the distance between them until his towering frame completely blocked out the light of the lamp. He reached out, his rough fingers tracing the line of her jaw before sliding down to her throat, his thumb pressing lightly against her pulse.
"Arre, amar kotha ta toh shono-" (Arre, at least listen to me once-) Ulfat tried to speak, but the words were instantly crushed under his lips.
He didn't kiss her gently. He kissed her with a raw, violent hunger as if he had been starving for months. His mouth slammed onto hers, his lips hot and demanding, his tongue instantly driving deep into her mouth, claiming her with a feral possessiveness that made her knees go completely weak. His large hand slid down her waist, his rough palm gripping the curve of her hip through the heavy silk of her saree, pulling her closer so that her tummy brushed against the hard, rigid length straining against his dhuti.
Ulfat whimpered into the kiss, her fingers automatically tangling into his short, dark hair, her back arching instinctively against him. The sheer intensity of his need was infectious; it always was. He was a dakait, a ruthless landlord who took what he wanted by force, but in this room, under the flickering lamplight, his violence was entirely translated into an all-consuming devotion that left her breathless.
When he finally broke the kiss to breathe, his lips didn't leave her skin. He trailed his mouth down her jaw, his teeth lightly nipping at the sensitive skin of her throat, making her gasp out loud. His sheer dominance was suffocating, but beneath it, there was a raw, desperate neediness that always made Ulfat’s heart melt. This was the man who terrorized the entire province, yet right now, he was looking at her like an addict looking at his last fix.
"Shona, lagate dao na, bas ekbar." (Sweetheart, let me put it in, just once.) he pleaded suddenly, his voice dropping into a low, husky whine that vibrated right through her core. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath hot against her lips. "Ekbar, maa kali-r dibbi, ami tarporei ghumiye porbo, shono na! Boro koshto hochhe amar, ek bela tomar theke dure thaka... ami ar parchhi na." (Just once, I swear on god, I’ll go straight to sleep after that, listen to me! I’m in so much agony right now, staying away from you the whole evening.. I just can’t take it anymore.)
"Tumi ekta pagol." (You are a complete madman.) Ulfat murmured, a small, helpless smile tugging at her lips despite her exhaustion. She reached up, her hands resting against his broad shoulders, feeling the tension locked in his muscles. "Shob shomoy khali eishob.. kothay ektu jiggesh korbe je thakur kemon dekhle, kotogulo dekhle, chele gulo ki korlo-" (All the time its just all this, instead of asking about the how the idols were, how many pandals we visited, what all the boys did-)
"O oi shob kaal shokale shunbo." (Oh, I’ll listen to all that tomorrow morning.) Rehman interrupted, his hands sliding around her back, his fingers immediately finding the top silk string of her blouse. He pulled it with a practiced motion. The knot unraveled instantly. "Ektu lagate dao na, bas ekbar... Shona ma amar, eto prem kori tomay, dekho, mana korbe na kintu." (Let me fuck you, please, just once… My sweet girl, I love you so much, don’t say no now.)
"Ah, Rehman, ekhon na... raat hoyeche toh onek." (Ah, Rehman, not now… its so late already.) she tried to chide him, her voice trembling slightly. "Chele-ra pasher ghor-e ache, jodi keu jege jay?” (Our sons are sleeping in the next room, what if someone wakes up?)
“O keu jaagbe na. Chharo toh. Oh shona, lagabooo.” (Oh, no one’s going to wake up. Leave all that. Darling, I wanna do itttt.) Rehman pleaded, his voice an irresistible purr as his hands roamed her back. "Ekbar khali... tomay ektu-o koshto korte hobe na, chomchom. Ami-i shob korbo." (Just once.. you won't have to put in any effort at all, my sweet. I will do everything.)
Ulfat sighed, her defense crumbling under the weight of his puppy eyes. “Boddo baar berecho aajkal.” (You’re crossing all your limits these days.) The heat radiating from his body was overwhelming, and the throbbing ache between her own legs was becoming impossible to ignore. "Shudhu ekbar. Tarpor kintu ghumate hobe." (Alright, just once. But you have to sleep after that, okay?)
"Haan, haan, ja bolbi tai," (Yes, yes, whatever you say.) Rehman muttered frantically, but the moment he got her approval, the needy submission completely vanished. With one violent, impatient tug, the delicate knots snapped apart. The blouse fell open, exposing her full, heavy breasts to the cool air. Rehman let out a low growl at the sight, his large hands immediately coming up to cup them, his thumbs frictioning over the peaks until she cried out, her head falling back.
He didn’t give her time to recover from the sudden exposure. He squeezed her forcefully, molding her breasts against his palms - scarred from years of handling heavy iron weapons - until she had to wrap her arms around his neck just to stay upright. He backed her up across the dark room, his thighs encasing hers, forcing her legs to part with every heavy step he took toward the massive mahogany writing desk in the corner.
The desk was an heirloom, where the accounts of extortion, land deeds, and river-smuggling bribes were recorded. With a single, violent sweep of his left arm, Rehman cleared the surface. A heavy brass inkwell, stacks of official letters from the district magistrate, and a silver paperweight went crashing to the floorboards with a loud clang.
"Rehman! Table ta-" (Rehman! The table-)
"Chaaro toh." (To hell with the table.) he muttered against her skin. He set up down on the edge of the table and bit her lightly until she cried out, her fingers twisting into his hair as he buried her face between her cleavage. "Aaj raat e emon bhabe lagabo, kal shokal e pa felte koshto hobe tor. Tui ghore boshe thakbi, ami kaal tor kachhe bhat niye ashbo, kintu aaj raat ta amar... shara raat ta amar." (Tonight, I’m gonna fuck you so good, you'll find it difficult to even take a step tomorrow. You’ll stay sitting in the room, I will bring food to you tomorrow myself, but tonight belongs to me… all night.)
"Tor jonno hoyechhi." (Only for you.) he muttered against her damp skin, his breath searing hot.
He reached down, his fingers catching the heavy, intricate silver chain of her kamarbandh. He didn't unhook it. Instead, he used it as an anchor to yank her hips flush against his lower belly. His length straining inside his loose dhuti pressed directly against her lower stomach once again, separated only by the layers of her saree and her thin petticoat.
His hands left her waist and went down to the pleats of her saree, tucked tightly at her navel. He didn't have the patience to unwrap the six yards. He simply gathered the rich silk together, his rough palms sliding under the hem of her cotton petticoat until he reached the bare, smooth skin of her inner thighs, and pulled it down, throwing it onto the floor, as Ulfat leaned slightly back.
The heat radiating from her core was staggering. Rehman’s fingers, trembling slightly with the weight of his restraint, brushed against the soft, soaking wet fabric of her underwear. He let out a shaky breath, his thumb tracing her slit through the fabric until he felt the heavy slickness leaking through the cloth.
"Dekho... mukhe bolchho raat hoyeche, kintu bhetor bhetor toh puro gole jacchho, go." (See, you're saying that it's too late already, but you're melting inside, love.) he teased, his voice dropping into that low purr that always made her blush. He gripped the thin cotton fabric and tore it down the middle, the sound of tearing cloth loud in the silent room. "Ami na thakle ki thakur dekhe eshei eto gorom hoye jete tumi, chomchom? Eto shob kaar jonne, shona? Bolo?" (If I wasn't here, would you be getting this hot and bothered just from going pandal hopping, my sweet? Who's all this for, sweetheart? Tell me?)
"Tumi na- uff, tomar-i jonno," (You are- ugh, only for you,) she cried out, her face flushing crimson as he took off his own genji, and parted her legs as wide as they could go, pinning her knees against his ribs.
Rehman didn't- or rather, couldn’t wait any longer. He untied the knot of his dhuti, letting the white fabric pool around his ankles until he was completely bare, freeing his length, thick, fully erect, and glistening with a drop of pre-cum in the dim light. He gripped the base of his cock, rubbing the blunt head against her soaking wet slit, smearing her own wetness over her clit until Ulfat was crying out, her fingers tightening into his shoulders like claws.
“Please, aar deri koro na, keno jalachho erom kore- AH! Rehman!” (Please, don't make me wait anymore, why are you torturing me like this- AH! Rehman!) Ulfat’s scream was sharp, caught instantly in the back of her throat as her eyes flew wide open. With a sudden, powerful lurch of his hips, Rehman had driven himself forward, burying his entire length inside her in one single thrust, the thick shaft forcing its way through her tight, sliding walls until he bottomed out completely against her cervix.
The sheer fullness of him, stretching her open to her absolute limit, made her chest heave violently. Her back arched, her head falling back as her fingers scrambled wildly across the wood, knocking over a stray pen-holder in order to hold on to an edge of the table.
The sound of her cry echoed through the high ceilings, but Rehman captured her lips immediately after, tongue deep and heavy, swallowing her remaining gasps.
The rhythm was instantly frantic. Rehman was working with an insane amount of backed-up adrenaline. He gripped the edge of the mahogany desk with both hands, using it as leverage to drive into her with a brutal, relentless force. He pulled back until only the tip remained inside her wet heat, before driving back in. Every thrust was deep, wet, and heavy, the friction of their skin creating a loud, slapping sound that filled the otherwise silent room.
Thud. Slap. Thud.
"Ogo... uff, maago!" (oh.. ugh, god!) Her voice was a strained, melodic gasp that ended in a sharp inhale, her legs wrapping around his waist to try and control the depth of his penetration, but her movements only served to drive him deeper. "Ektu... ektu aaste koro na! Ah- laage toh!" (Do it.. Do it a little slower, no! Ah- it hurts!) Her whole body was shaking, the friction of his hairy chest and the cold metal of his chain against her bare breasts making her nipples ache with overstimulation.
"Aaste korbo? Puro ek bela chokher aaral chhilo, aar ekhon bou naki bolche aaste koro. Hmph." (Do it slower? Away from my eyes for a whole evening, and now my wife tells me to slow down. Hmph.) Rehman’s teeth bared in a wolfish grin, his sweat-slicked shoulders glistening under the lamplight, having no intention to slow down. He reached down, his hand wrapping around the kamarbandh once again, using the metal chain to literally lift her hips off the desk with every single downward stroke. He was drilling into her now, his strokes fast and punishing.
"Rehman, boddo jore hocchhe kintu- aha, lagche!" (Rehman, you're going way too fast, I'm telling you- aha, it hurts!) she whined, her voice trembling with a mixture of intense pleasure and overwhelming friction as he continued to drive into her without an ounce of mercy, her voice cracking as his thick head repeatedly hammered against the sensitive cluster of nerves deep inside her. "Ogo... shono... ektu-" (Darling.. Listen.. A little-)
"Bollam na, mana korbi na aaj raat ta amay." (I told you, don't deny me anything tonight.) Rehman panted, his chest heaving as he pumped into her faster, his face twisted in an expression of pure, agonized ecstasy.
The pleasure was too much, too sharp, too frequent. A violent, shattering wave of an orgasm began to build in her lower belly, tightening her walls around him. Ulfat’s head rolled from side to side on the scattered papers, her lips parted in a silent scream as her body began to convulse around his shaft, her climax pulling him over the edge along with her.
Feeling the tight, convulsing contractions of her climax broke the final thread of Rehman’s control. His jaw tightened, his breathing turning into a series of ragged growls. He leaned down, burying his face in the curve of her neck, his teeth biting down hard enough on her collarbone to leave a deep purple mark as he delivered four final, devastatingly deep thrusts.
With a loud, guttural groan that vibrated right through her chest, Rehman buckled his hips forward and came, rutting against her like an animal.
He filled her completely, a thick, hot torrent of his seed pumping deep into her womb, his entire body violently trembling as he held himself pinned inside her. Ulfat let out one last, long sob of pleasure, holding him close as the room spun around them.
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of their ragged, synchronized breathing and the distant, faint hum of the night outside.
Rehman remained buried inside her for a long time, his forehead resting against her shoulder, his chest rising and falling against her bare breasts. Slowly, he pulled out, a wet sound echoing through the quiet room as his fluids began to slowly drip onto the smooth mahogany of the desk.
He didn't say a word. He simply scooped her up into his arms, ignoring her soft exhausted murmurs, and carried her over to the massive four-poster bed. He laid her down on the soft sheets, crawling in right beside her, and pulled the cotton quilt over both of their sweat-slicked bodies.
Ulfat immediately curled into his side, her head resting on his bare chest, her breath turning slow and steady as sleep instantly began to claim her. Rehman wrapped his arm around her waist, his large hand resting protectively over her bare stomach, his fingers tracing the faint red chain-marks his heavy grip had left on her skin. He looked down at her peaceful face under the dim light of the kerosene lamp, a soft, incredibly smug smile finally tugging at his lips.
"Accha.. mane, ye... bolchilam, mane, oi ekta jodi round two..." (Um.. you know... I was just thinking, like, you know, maybe if I could get a round two...)
"REHMAN!"
[He infact did technically end up getting the round two, which manifested itself in the form of slow, lazy, morning sex. He had promised her she wouldn't be able to walk straight in the morning. And as the boro-korta of DakaatBari, Rehman always kept his word.]
respectfully, maam, are you happily married or JUST married? can your husband fight?
also i had stalked saumya on twitter a few days back and found out that her nani's or someone's house is in kolkata and it's one of her fav cities to visit!!!!₹₹?#?₹?₹(₹82(2;#(9#1)*!₹/#/1) OMFSGSGGSHSHSHSSJ BYEEE.
shout out to @lessbutliving for giving me the second pic i literally went crazy-
Inspired by @sparksfromhell baba's recent rehman jomidar au.
I am working on October Birds promise babies <3
All dialogues are in Bengali but they are all translated tho I doubt any non bengali will read this lmfao so I have only tagged the Bengali girlies ik on here, tags taken from the same recent posts
Masterlist
The sweltering heat of Kolkata summers has always made Ulfat's skin crawl, and tonight is no exception. Lying on her side, facing the open windows while clad in a thin nightgown, she can feel the sweat roll down the small of her back. Oh, why had Rehman not planned for the Darjeeling trip for now and not two weeks later? She will die in this heat, she thinks, she will definitely perish.
Rehman lies down beside her, dressed in a loose white cotton vest and drawstring pyjamas. She glances at him, and a thin sheen of sweat covers his defined arms, making the hair look darker as it sticks to his fair skin. She can see the faint outline of his muscles under his thin clothing, and she gulps, looking away. No, it is simply too hot tonight to engage in anything.
"Shona," Rehman murmurs, breaking the silence that had fallen over them alongside the humidity as he runs a hand over the dip of her waist before his palm rests on her hip, his chest to her back.
"ভীষণ গরম লাগছে গো, হাত দেবে না আমায়," she grumbles, swatting his hand away. It's too hot tonight, don't touch me.
Rehman tutts, inching closer. He knows his shonapakhi is not above physical violence, but he takes the chance anyway; he would take the bet even if the chances of getting some love were in low decimals. "আমি তো শুধু আদর করে দিচ্ছি, বাবা," he insists, his hand going to now stroke her slightly damp back. I am just being affectionate, dear.
"তোমার আদর কি আমি ভালো করেই বুঝি, বাবা," she mutters, inching away. "সরো তো সরো, এই গরমে এর মাঝেও তোমার এসব বন্ধ হয় না." She moves even further away. It is a queen sized bed, incredible amount of space to play chase in. I understand the intentions of your affection very well, dear. Move, even in this heat you can't stop.
"আমার লক্ষী মা গো, এমন করে না, একটু আদর করে দাও না," Rehman pouts, slightly tugging at her slim shoulder. My darling, don't be like this, put a little love on me.
"ইস সরো তো," she groans, getting off the bed and standing in front of him. Ugh, get away. "অনেক পেরেশান করছো আমায়." You are bothering me a lot.
"নিজের বর এর সঙ্গে এরকম করতে নেই, শোনা," Rehman chastises lovingly, sitting up and reaching for her longingly yet again. Don't be like this with your husband, my love.
"এই তুমি কি বাংলা বুঝো না বা কিছু? বললাম না দূরে সরতে?" she complains, taking a step backwards. Don't you understand Bengali? Didn't I tell you to stay away?
Rehman gets off the bed languidly, each step akin to a predator stalking its prey- confident, purposeful. "ওমাগো নিজের এতো সুন্দর বউ কে এখন ছুঁতেও পারবো না? কি দোষ করেছি গো আমি?" he whines playfully, his hands finding her waist as he pulls her flush against him, and she lets out an audible gasp of "oof!". Oh my, I can't even touch my beautiful wife now? What crime have I committed to deserve this?
"Rehman," she grumbles, looking up at him with an adorably annoyed expression which does nothing to calm the fire burning in his veins; if anything, it adds fuel to it. "সত্যি ভীষণ গরম, অসহ্য লাগছে." She tries pushing him off her to no avail; he is too strong. I swear, it's unbearably hot.
"আর আমার যে গরম লাগছে সেটার কি?" he pouts before leaning in to kiss the spot on her neck which always makes her shiver. And what about the heat burning inside me?
"জল খায়, পাখা আছে বাতাস করে দাও আমায়," Ulfat grumbles, but her body gives her away as it leans into his touch. Damn him. Drink water and fan me.
"আচ্ছা? আমি বাতাস করে দেবো তোমায় এখন?" he laughs teasingly and she nods petulantly. "চলো, পাখি, ছাদ এ গিয়ে বসি," he smiles, taking her hand. Oh really? I need to fan you now? Let's go up on the roof, come on.
On the terrace, they lie on the shitol pati together on their backs, hands barely touching. The sky is clear, lit up with a thousand stars, it seems. A cool breeze blows over them, drying the sweat off their skin. She turns to look at his side profile, the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones, the hook of his nose, the contrast of his soft lips and puppy brown eyes, the fluff of his soft hair.
"চেয়ে চেয়ে কি দেখছো গো, শোনা?" Rehman hums, still looking up at the sky. What are you staring at, my love?
"দেখছি," she shrugs, still staring at him unabashedly. Just looking.
"ও শুধু দেখছো? কিছু লাগবে না?" he asks playfully, stroking the lines of her hand. Oh, you're just looking? Don't you need anything?
And she says nothing, then fully turns around to face him before kissing him on the lips. Being on the terrace at night always gets her red in the face, hot and heavy under the stars with her husband.
They make out for a few minutes, hands roaming each other's bodies shamelessly. He breaks away from the kiss, looking at her, his pupils blown out. He sits up and takes off his vest, revealing the expanse of his lithe and toned chest, covered in a layer of hair. Ulfat loves that hair, loves running her long fingernails through it.
"যদি কেউ উপরে এসে?" she asks, a bit hesitant as usual. What if someone comes up here? The matriarch of the house, she must have some form of decency, even if her husband is shamelessness incarnate.
"এ মাঝ রাতে কে আসবে? সব গুলো ঘুমিয়ে পড়েছে," Rehman assures her, stoking her soft hair, and she nods. Who will come up here at midnight? Everyone is asleep. He climbs on top of her, kissing her forehead, then her nose, then a peck on her lips before his lips travel down to the column of her throat, alternating between kissing and sucking marks on her milky, unblemished skin.
They do not hear the door open, lost in the ocean of pleasure between them, the waves of Ulfat's moans take up all their thinking; also, one of the servants had oiled the terrace door hinges last week. The traumatised gasp gets their attention, though.
"ছি! দাদা! এসব কি গো? ছাদ এ?" Uzair, Rehman's younger brother, sputters, covers his eyes, and starts pacing towards the door. He sees Ulfat as his mother more than anything. They had gotten married when Uzair was very young, and she had practically raised him. Rehman and Uzair's own mother had passed away years ago. Ew! What is all this on the roof?
"এই হতচ্ছাড়া! তুই ঘুমাস নি কেন?" Rehman barks, looking up from Ulfat for a moment. You idiot! Why aren't you asleep? Ulfat is mortified as she always is. The man who is practically her first son has caught them making out under the stars. This has happened before and will happen again, but it does nothing to quell the embarrassment she feels every time.
"আমি কি জানতাম আপনি আমার বৌদি এর সঙ্গে এসব করছেন? তাও ছাদে?" Uzair shouts from near the door, scandalised and traumatised for the week. How was I supposed to know you were doing whatever this is with my sister-in-law? That too on the roof?
"আমার বউ, আমার বাড়ি, যেখানে ইচ্ছে সেখানে ভালোবাসবো, তোর কি?" Rehman shouts back. "দরজা তা বন্ধ কর যাবার আগে!" he adds and who is Uzair to refuse? He does not wish this hell upon anyone. My wife, my house, I will love her wherever I want, what is it to you? Close the door behind you!
"আমি গঙ্গা ডুবি দেব! আর পারছি না যে বাড়ি তে!" Uzair shouts from behind the door before they hear his retreating steps on the stone staircase. I will drown myself in the Ganges! I can't live in this house anymore!
"ডুবে যাক ছাগল," Rehman mutters, his forehead against Ulfat's, who laughs a little. Let that fool drown.
"কাল ওর জন্যে ইলিশ ভাপা করতে হবে," Ulfat chuckles, speaking after her momentary silence around Uzair. I'll have to make hilsha fish for him tomorrow.
"তুমি ওর নেকামি বাড়িয়ে দিচ্ছ এত আদর করে," Rehman grumbles and Ulfat smiles, shaking her head. You spoil him too much
"ছোট বাচ্চা তো," Ulfat chides and Rehman lets out a humourless laugh. He's a child.
"ষাঁড় এর মতো বড়ো হয়ে গিয়েছে আর তুমি বাচ্চা বাচ্চা করো," he complains. He's as big as an ox now and you still baby him. She kisses him quiet, her hand stroking his back. And he forgets it all. Her uncanny ability to make everyone in the house happy is undoubtedly one of her best qualities.
He takes off her nightgown, immediately squeezing the swell of her hip. His pyjamas come off next, leaving them both bare before each other as he lays her back down on the mat, climbing on top of her.
"Ah," she moans softly, exposing her throat for him to nip at again, and he does, relishing in the slightly salty and sweet taste of her beautiful skin.
"অনেক ভালোবাসি গো তোমায়, প্রিয়তমা," he whispers, trailing his kisses down her body, over the dip of her breasts and the slight valley of her ribs. I love you so much, my darling.
He reaches her waist and begins to suck and bite, shallow breaths leave Ulfat's lips as he does. Bright red love bites bloom in a line across her waist, joining at her belly button, the most beautiful kamarbandh he has ever given her, he thinks as he lifts himself on his arms to admire his work.
"কাল দেখবে, কি সুন্দর হয়েছে," he smiles, his fingers tracing the small bruises. You'll see tomorrow how beautiful it is. Ulfat blushes, looking away. "বলেছি না? কোনো সময় অন্য দিকে ফেরাবে না? এতো মিষ্টি মুখ তা লুকাতে নেই." he chides lovingly, reaching to turn her crimson face back to him. Didn't I tell you to never turn your face away from me? Never hide such a beautiful face away from me.
"তুমিও না ইস্সী," she giggles, looking at him fondly. Stop it.
"আমার লক্ষিটি," he smiles, stroking her cheek before leaning down to kiss her. My sweetheart.
"অধরের কাণে যেন অধরের ভাষা। দোঁহার হৃদয় যেন দোঁহে পান করে।" he whispers, settling between her inviting and open thighs. Lips' language to lips' ears. Two drinking each other's heart, it seems. The Kiss by Rabindranath Tagore, she thinks, amused.
"গৃহ ছেড়ে নিরুদ্দেশ দুটী ভালবাসা, তীর্থযাত্রা করিয়াছে অধর-সঙ্গমে!" she smiles before gasping when he pushes inside gently, his lips milimetres from hers. Two roving loves who have left home, pilgrims to the confluence of lips.
"দুইটি তরঙ্গ উঠি প্রেমের নিয়মে, ভাঙ্গিয়া মিলিয়া যায় দুইটী অধরে।" he murmurs, slowly thrusting in and out of her. Two waves rise by the law of love, to break and die on two sets of lips.
"ব্যাকুল বাসনা দুটী চাহে পরষ্পরে, দেহের সীমায় আসি দুজনের দেখা!" she whines softly bucking her hips against his. Two wild desires craving each other, meet at last at the body's limits.
"প্রেম লিখিতেছে গান কোমল আখরে, অধরতে থরে থরে চুম্বনের লেখা।" he says in a raspy, desperate voice, his thrusts getting faster. Love's writing a song in dainty letters, layers of kiss-calligraphy on lips.
"দুখানি অধর হ’তে কুসুম চয়ন, মালিকা গাঁথিবে বুঝি ফিরে গিয়ে ঘরে?" she breathes out shakily, trembling as she nears her release, and he is close too; he can feel the knot in his lower belly getting tighter, and he starts pistoning his hips faster. Harder. Plucking flowers from two sets of lips, perhaps to thread them into a chain later.
"Ah!" she gasps, feeling the head of his cock hit the right spot inside her as it tips her over the edge. He kisses her at the very moment, finding his own release as their moans drown in each other's lips, slow thrusts in and out to ride out their highs.
"দুটি অধরের এই মধুর মিলন, দুইটি হাসির রাঙা বাসর শয়ন॥" she says in a trembling voice between shaky breaths, entirely spent, a satisfied smile on her face. This sweet union of lips is the red marriage-bed of a pair of smiles.
Rehman laughs, entirely amused and enamoured. His gorgeous, educated, smart wife. His priyotoma. "সব হারাতে রাজি আছি, শুধু তোমায় নিয়ে জেদ করবো," he smiles, getting up to put his clothes on and she does the same. I am willing to lose everything but you.
"আমাকে হারানোর ভয় কেন? আমার সব পথ গিয়ে মেশে তোমার ধরে এ এসে," she smiles, lying back down with him, her head on his chest. Why are you scared of losing me? Any path I take will inevitably lead back to you.
He smiles, pulling her closer. He loves her beyond explanation, and he is aware that she loves him right back with a matched sort of intensity. The mother of his children and his now-grown brother. He does not know how he would have raised Uzair without Ulfat. No, scratch that, he does not know how he would have lived without her. She makes life worth living and he does not care how whipped it makes him sound at all.
DW I wont tag the ones not in my usual tag list in all my works lmao just this one
ami ekdin @nevereversaygoodbye er haath ke chumu kheye nebo. because WOW. this was so ?? soft ?? UGH I LOVE BANGALI REHMAN AND ULFAT SM 😭💗💗 the fluff the smut the uzair ke khisti maara ALL OF IT IS SO PEAK ‼️‼️‼️
