𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
Part 1/?
a/n: nsfw, degradation, slight cnc if you squint, profanity, mdni😭 bole labh nei but issok
☆youngProbir! who loves his job more than his life. "Eisob khyapachoda r mathagulo na orale amar shanti hobe" is what he says as he comes home late, taking off his silver dial, and folding you over, his shirt a crumpled mess, which magically finds your throat, the buttons grazing the vein near your neck.
☆youngProbir! being the most jealous man on earth. Whenever you go outside, his hand entangles in your saree's aanchol, and then later in the blouse er dori, trying to untie it. "Ei dhur, amra baire" you say, but he brings his face close to the crook of your neck, his breath coming off in fiery circles, "aar parchi na shamlate shona" is what he whispers into your ear, as he bites your earlobe, smirking.
☆youngProbir! making you call him Sir as he ties his belt, fastening your wrists to the poles of the bed. He rams into you, timing his thrusts with his every word. "Amar under e jara kaaj kore tara sobai amaye sir bole. Aar ami jokhon toke lagacchi, tui o ki bolbi?" "Sir..."
"ei toh shona meye amar..."
☆youngProbir! who loves bending you over, in front of the mirror, cooing absolute filth as he comes inside you, saying"Dekh ki mishti lagche toke, ekdom pori r moto". He grabs your tresses, so that you face him, him saying, "Amaye uttor ta dibi na?" and then guides your neck, (the veins of his hand popping, a greenish blue hue under his skin)so that you face the mirror. "Dekh aayna ta,dekhe bol. Dekh ma amar" he says again, his voice several octaves lower, jaw clenched, forcing you to look closely into the mirror, as you mutter a faint "Hai Sir, please". "Please ki shona?" He says, as the grip on your hair tightens and continues this saga until you're exhausted, until a silent "porir moto" rolls off your tongue.
☆youngProbir! who's premik era never ends, buying you fancy Dior eau de parfum, Chanel bags and Ysl heels
☆youngProbir! whos premik era never ends, as he takes you out on little bhaarar cha dates, followed by a stroll in Esplanade, viewing the Victoria memorial, buying you cotton candy, or in his words "golapi mishti bal" and then finally treating you out to Arsalan biriyani.
☆youngProbir! who always says, "Ei pora bhaggote je amar Biriyani e amar dal bhaat hoye darabe, ta ami ei baler jonme kokhono bhabtei parini boss"
a/n: okayyy, a drabble bc i said so
𝑶 𝑴𝒐𝒓 𝑴𝒐𝒚𝒏𝒂 𝑮𝒐~
a/n: degradation, improper use of cigarettes(?), abusive!probirda(?),cnc if u squint hard, dom!probirda, fireplay(sorta) mentions of a "sir" kink, mentions of choking, nsfw mdni <3
Probir pulled you into a kiss, so fierce, so demanding, screwing things up with you and the fucked up relationship you had with him in the past few months after joining the homicide dept. "Tor jonno prem-piriti jeno shesh hoche na re", he whispers, his voice raspy, searing through ur eardrums. "Ki bolte chaichen probir babu?" you ask, for the regular bengali etiquette required you to put to an honorific to his name, which should've otherwise been just "probirda", bare, stripped of any faux formality (that existed), as you had imagined several times before . "Babu na, sir bolo!" he replies, his voice final, rather dictatorial, his gaze indecipherable. He locked both of your hands behind you in an embrace, his other hand on your jaw, tight, leaving fingernail marks on your chin. As you pulled away for a breath, you tasted an ferric tang of flavour. As you turn to the mirror , you see ur lips, drawing blood, sporting a cherry red color, and before you could take care of that, he's had you pulled away from the reflective surface, his large hand resting on your face, his thumb dragging across your lips, leaving a trail of rough, scorching heat behind. He brings his thumb to his mouth, tasting you. You exclaim, "ki jaahtah, probirbabu- gasp! as he yanks you by the little back hook on your blouse, making you sit at the very corner of his archaic lazarus khaat. "Sala eituku blouse poreichish e keno", and snaps it open with elite precision. His eyes, glaring into you, his lips curled into a satisfied smirk.
You lean onto the frame of the bed, your eyes shut, waiting for him, when he pauses abruptly. "Er pore kichu korle kintu amader somporko ta just colleagues thakbe na. Seta poshabe toh? "he says and then walks away, coming back w a bottle of whiskey, unopened. He gently grazed the neck of the bottle to your lips, then to the nape of your neck, then ur clavicle, till it rested on your lips again, demanding entry to ur mouth. He continued teasing the mouth of the bottle to ur plump lips, and then u found yourself snatching it from his hands, removing the cork w just ur teeth as u took a swig from it. "Jodi case ta niye ei marate hoto, tahole ami tomar khaat e boshe thaktam na, Sir..." you answered, as you roll your eyes at him. You downed the whiskey, the said bottle resting at the edge of the bed. You glance at him, he looked surprised, and as you continued drinking, his eyes, clouded with desire, found yours, and he snatched the damn bottle from your hand, and after taking a huge drink of it, simultaneously smashed it on the wall, leaving you beyond shocked. "Probir da? Ekiii..." you said pouting, ur bambi eyes shrouded w zero reasonable thoughts, looking up at him and then at the wall. "Tui doya kore ei badraami ta bondho korbi, he says, as he spins you around, ur face landing directly on his pillow, which left a faint hue of cologne mixed with cigarette smoke, the smell of which never left his prized khaki uniform or even his civil uniform.
He peppered kisses next to your exposed back, and then trailed his fingers along your spine, and as you shuddered under his touch, he flipped you over, leaving reddish bruises near your neck, "Kal sokale dekhbi egulo beguni rong renge utheche," he said, smirking. He stopped, reaching for a lighter in his pocket as he magically whipped out a cigarette. He made you hold the cigarette w ur lips and brought the lighter close to you, the fire akin to his personality, fiery, untouchable, and a source of power yet destruction. You gasped slightly, which made him grab ur chin tightly, his fingers enveloping your face, holding u steady. "Patience, dear Watson", he says and lights the cig in your mouth, holding the lighter agonizingly close to crook of your neck."Sir!" you gasp, ur breath coming off in unsteady spurts, ur chest heaving up and down as he brought the damn lighter closer and closer to u, the flame caressing your skin. "Kothaye ache na, sobur e meowa fole, ektu opekha koro meri jaan" he says and hovers down over you, his biceps flexing in the minimal fluorescent lights of the room as he pins you down, taking his time as he reached ur face, tilting his neck to acquire the marlboro that had been burning for too long, leaving ashes on your clavicle. "Focus, shona" he answers to ur unsaid question(what the fuck cholche ekhane probir da?) and gently rests his calloused yet strong hand on your eyes, his other hand tracing lazy circles on your waist, and groping your tits, leaving bruises in its wake.
As his hand left your eyes, your vision went to his noyon(eye), painted in dark circles, signifying the multiple times he'd had to go to serve duty, coming home, after an encounter,his white civil shirt stained with blood stains. He wore one of those today, unbothered, which lay lying in a heap with the rest of the saree that you had worn. His thumb lay at your neck's pulse point, while the rest of his fingers wrapped around your neck, applying pressure, making you choke. "Tor oi ajob necklace gulor theke amar haath tai beshi manache" he says, almost laughing to himself, his lips pursed, eyes amused to see you like this, stripped off all the damn formality he, had to ensure everyday you walked into his office, everytime you ordered a meal for him, or supplying him with a lighter for his cigarette. Your eyes fluttered shut as the pressure at your neck only increased in magnitude, slight salty tears painting your face. "Mmhmm, na moyna amar, amar chokher dike takao, he tuts, "Tomaye ki sundor lagche jeno" he says, voice sardonic,dripping with lust. He bites your neck, and places openmouthed kisses in the bruises that HE made.You pulled him with his gold chain that he always wore, closing the distance between him, his lips crashing against yours, as if him on top of you wasn't enough. He bites you, gently, and said as he smiled against your lips...
"Laglo na, na? Ebar lagai?" He said as he tore off the pearl necklace you had worn, the pearls cascading off your curves like water on the beach.
a/n: idk ki likhechi, it's super jumbled, but the man too fine for me not to write a ff on him🙏
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