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Pairing: SugarDaddy!Rehman Baloch × Reader

Summary: Rehman Baloch as a Sugar Daddy.

Warning: contains smut, dom!Rehman, mean!Rehman, intense degradation kink, implied age gap. MDNI.

Author's note: This is very self-indulgent. So you will find specific descriptions at times.

Qafs

UZAIR X READER

a/n-yes ik I write too much kidnapping plots, I know :.) , also there is no smut in this part please forgive my ahh dont slime me I tried to write but its too long to fit in one part, sorry, thanks to my fav my babu @mujhekoimarsbhejdo For helping me through the whole plot and three crash out warnings - 18+ UZAIR ( biggest warning here tbh) abusive language, forced marriage, scared!reader, toxic!reader and Uzair, threatening , implied masturbation, making out, humping(?) misogyny,conservative

#dhuranandar2 #dhurandhar fanfic #dhurandar the revenge #uzair baloch #dhurandhar #uzair x reader #uzair dakait #hamza ali mazari #dhurandhar fanfiction #dhurandhar fandom #dhurandar fandom #dhurandar

Chup ke, Chup ke, Raat Din

Pairing: Rehman Dakait/Baloch x Reader

Summary: Rehman is a very respectful husband, but you don't want respectful anymore.

Warnings: sex, p in v, no protection, virgin reader, fingering, age gap (10 years), guns, smoking, etc.

A/N: Happy birthday Daddy, my big man, my childhood husband, I am pregnant with your child pls ring me up, also happy birthday to @goodasaysboo. I don't speak Urdu so it's mostly just a mix of that and Hindi. Translations are provided, but conversations are in Hindi/Urdu.

Disclaimer: This is only in respect to the 2025 movie Dhurandhar and its characters, not any real life people.

Masterlist

#rehman dakait x you #rehman baloch #rehman dakait fanfic #dhurandar #rehman x reader #akshaye khanna x reader #akshaye khanna #dhurandhar #rehman dakait x reader #rehman dakait

Loha Badan ࣪ ˖ ۶ৎ°⋆

Synopsis: After the People’s Aman Committee’s victory, Hamza finds himself carrying more responsibility than ever before. Exhausted, overworked, and increasingly irritated by someone getting a little too comfortable around her, he gets an unexpected late-night distraction when she finds him still awake and buried under work.

Based of this request!! This work is intended for audience that are 18+, mature content ahead. MDNI!!!

─── ⋆.𐙚 ̊ ───

It was the night the election results were being announced, Lyari had erupted into something that barely resembled sleep.

The streets stayed alive until dawn, overflowing with motorcycles, shouting men, celebratory gunfire somewhere in the distance, and fireworks bright enough to stain the sky red and gold for hours.

Entire neighborhoods poured out onto the roads chanting the People’s Aman Committee’s name like victory itself belonged personally to them. Cars blocked intersections, music blasted from cracked speakers, men hugged each other in the middle of the streets like a war had just ended. And in many ways, it had.

Power in Lyari had shifted overnight, and everyone knew it. At the center of that shift stood Rehman Baloch.

From the moment the results were finalized, the Baloch residence stopped feeling like a home and started feeling like headquarters. Men arrived at all hours now. Armed guards rotated constantly outside the gates, meetings stretched deep into the night. Politicians, businessmen, local leaders, people who once wouldn’t have looked Rehman in the eye long enough to acknowledge him, now sat in his study for hours waiting for his approval on things.

The house itself changed with the victory. The atmosphere became heavier, more important, more dangerous.

And with that came responsibility, a terrifying amount of it. And most of it had landed on Hamza.

Not publicly, of course. Rehman remained the face everyone answered to. But inside the house, behind closed doors, everyone could see Uzair and Hamza carrying half the city on his shoulders beside him.

Hamza became impossible to separate from the work, especially since he was technically considered as Uzair’s right hand man, as he would constantly be asked to get things done and handled with.

Areas of Lyari assigned directly under his supervision, disputes to settle, security to manage, problems to eliminate before they turned into headlines.

It happened so gradually at first that nobody really noticed when his entire life disappeared into duty.

Except her, she had noticed everything.

The way he stopped sitting through full meals because something always came up to pull him away midway through dinner. The way he started coming home later every night, sometimes long after sunrise prayers.

The permanent tension settled into his shoulders, the exhaustion hidden beneath that cold self-control he wore so naturally.

Hamza had always been composed. But lately, it looked less like composure and more like restraint.

Like he was one inconvenience away from snapping something in half.

Then, one evening during dinner, Rehman casually announced that Hamza would officially be moving into the residence.

“Woh toh yahin aata-jata rehta hai,” he’d said, barely looking up from his plate. “Yahin reh le, waise bhi ghar ka banda hai.”

Everyone else at the table agreed as well. Ulfat had always been welcoming to those loyal to Rehman, while Uzair and Hamza had grown to have a really tight bond.

Hamza simply nodded once from across the table, accepting it the same way he accepted every responsibility handed to him, quietly, without hesitation.“Bilkul,” he said calmly, gaze steady. “Agar aap logon ko theek lagta hai toh mujhe bhi koi problem nahi hai”

Within two days, the guest room in the upstairs hallway became his permanently. And after that, his presence settled into the house completely.

She started noticing him everywhere.

Early mornings when she’d walk downstairs half-awake and find him already leaving with the gang trailing behind him. Late nights when she’d hear his voice faintly through the study walls while he handled another problem for Rehman. Afternoons where he sat in silence at the dining table surrounded by files instead of food, jaw tight, eyes tired, barely aware of the untouched tea growing cold beside him.

Even when he wasn’t speaking, stress clung to him visibly now. And nobody said anything about it because nobody expected Hamza to struggle.

He was the dependable one, the one who handled things, the one who never complained.

But sometimes she would catch him alone for a split second before his expression reset again. A brief moment where the exhaustion underneath became impossible to hide.

There had been another thing she'd started noticing lately. Not about Hamza, but about herself.

Or more specifically, about the way Hamza reacted whenever she spent time with certain people.

The Baloch residence had become crowded ever since the election. Between Rehman's meetings, Uzair's responsibilities, and the constant stream of people involved with the Aman Committee, there was almost always someone coming or going.

Among them was one of the younger members of the group. He was closer to her in age than Hamza was. Someone she'd known for years through the people surrounding her father and brothers. He'd grown up around the same circles as her, and unlike most of the older men constantly discussing politics, he actually knew how to hold a normal conversation.

So naturally, she talked to him. It was nothing unusual, a few conversations in the courtyard while everyone waited for dinner, the occasional cup of tea when several people were gathered outside. Random jokes exchanged whenever he stopped by the house.

Normal, completely innocent. At least that's what she thought.

Until Hamza started acting strange. The first time she noticed his behaviour was during dinner. The younger man had spent most of the evening downstairs helping Uzair with something before all the men including Uzair and Rehman had left for work while Hamza had stayed back to keep tabs on the factory. This left only Hamza and her home alone. The conversation at the table had already shifted toward work when Hamza suddenly spoke.

"Rehman bhai usse zinda gaad denge agar kabhi pata chal gaya ke us par tumhara crush hai."

The comment came so unexpectedly that she almost choked on her water. For a moment, she simply stared at him. "Kya?"

Across the table, Hamza continued eating as though he'd said something completely reasonable. "Wahi jo suna."

The response would've worked a lot better if his jaw wasn't visibly clenched, or if he'd stayed for the rest of dinner. Instead, he stood up moments later, collected the files beside him, and left without another word.

She watched him disappear toward the study, fighting back a grin, because for someone who wasn't jealous, he certainly seemed to have strong opinions about who she spent her time with.

And after that, once she noticed it, she couldn't stop noticing it.

The way conversations suddenly ended whenever Hamza walked into a room and found them talking. The way his expression darkened for half a second before becoming unreadable again. The way he'd find some excuse to pull the younger man away for work the moment they appeared too comfortable standing together.

He never brought it up again, which somehow made it even more obvious.

Weeks had now passed like that.

The house stayed busy, loud during the day, exhausted by night.

That particular evening had been no different. Another dinner interrupted by work phone calls, another glimpse of Hamza standing in the corner of the study with frustration written all over his face while someone rushed through updates beside him.

By the time the house finally quieted, it was well past midnight. She fell asleep eventually, though lightly. The kind of sleep that never fully settles.

At some point in the middle of the night, she woke up thirsty.

For a few seconds she stayed still beneath the blankets, eyes barely open, disoriented by the darkness around her.

The residence had gone silent now in that strange, heavy way large houses do after everyone finally falls asleep. Even the sounds outside the windows felt distant.

She rubbed tiredly at her eyes before slipping out of bed.

The floor felt cold beneath her bare feet as she stepped into the hallway, still half-asleep. Most of the lights downstairs had been turned off except for the faint glow left on near the kitchen. She moved quietly through the house, filling herself a glass of water from the filter before leaning tiredly against the counter for a second.

That should’ve been it. She should’ve gone straight back upstairs. Instead, as she walked toward the staircase again, something caught her attention.A thin strip of light beneath a door.

Hamza’s room.

She paused instinctively. The hallway upstairs stayed completely silent around her, but the light remained there, steady beneath the door despite the late hour.

It had to be past two in the morning.

For a moment she just stood there staring at it. Then, before she could properly think herself out of it, she found herself walking toward the room.

The door wasn’t fully closed. She knocked softly against it once before pushing it open slightly.

Hamza barely looked up.

He sat at the desk near the window, sleeves rolled messily to his forearms, papers scattered everywhere around him in uneven piles.

The lamp beside him cast enough light across the room to sharpen every trace of exhaustion on his face.

One hand pressed against his temple while the other flipped through documents with growing irritation.

“Tum ab tak jaag rahe ho?” she asked quietly.

“Tumhein bhi nahi jagna chahiye.” His voice sounded rough, tired. Yet neither of them pointed out the hypocrisy.

She stepped inside slowly, the glass of water still cold in her hand. Up close, he looked worse than she expected. The first few buttons of his black kurta had been loosened at some point, sleeves pushed carelessly upward like he’d stopped paying attention to himself hours ago. His eyes looked heavy, jaw tight enough that she wondered if he’d been clenching it all night.

“Itni raat ko kya kar rahe ho?”

“Kaam.”

“Woh toh dikh raha hai.”

He didn’t answer. His attention shifted back toward the papers immediately, but she noticed the way his fingers pressed harder against the file in front of him now, patience thinning.

She glanced at the desk. Maps, reports, names scribbled across margins, too much work for one person.

“Har raat yahi karte rehte ho.”

“Karna padta hai.”

“Tumhein pata hai aur log bhi hain kaam karne ke liye? Sab kuch khud karne ki zarurat nahi hai.”

That finally pulled a quiet exhale from him, almost a laugh but far too exhausted to fully become one. “Aakhir mein sab mere paas ya Uzair ke paas hi le aate hain.”

There was no arrogance in his words, just the truth.

She stayed quiet for a second, eyes lingering on him longer than they probably should have. Up close, the exhaustion on him looked deeper now that he’d stopped pretending it wasn’t there. His posture had started slipping slightly from pure fatigue, shoulders tense beneath the thin black nightshirt he wore, sleeves shoved carelessly to his forearms.

He looked worn down, but not weak. Hamza would never allow himself to look weak. But he looked tired enough that the constant restraint he carried around everyone else had started to slip.

“Tum theek ho?” she asked softly after a moment.

“Haan.” The answer came too quickly.

Her gaze drifted over the papers spread across the desk before returning to him again. “Lag nahi raha.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back slightly in the chair, rubbing a hand slowly across his jaw like even speaking required effort now.

The movement pulled her attention in ways it shouldn’t have.

His hair looked messier than usual tonight, loose strands falling near his forehead while the rest remained tied back carelessly in a manbun, like he’d fixed it hours ago and stopped bothering afterward. The first few buttons of his nightshirt were loose exposing just enough of his neck to make her immediately look away before he noticed where her attention had gone.

Except judging by the way his eyes flickered toward her afterward, maybe he had noticed.

“Tumhein kuch chahiye?” she asked quickly, trying to steady herself. “Paani? Khana?”

“Nahi.”

“Hamza—”

“Nahi,” he repeated quieter this time, exhaustion softening the edge of it. “Bas kaam khatam karna hai.”

But even as he said it, his fingers flexed hard against the edge of the desk unconsciously. Tense, restless, like he physically couldn’t relax anymore.

The room felt warmer suddenly. Or maybe it was just the way he looked sitting there beneath the dim lamp light, tired and frustrated and completely unaware of how interesting he’d become to look at lately.

Because this wasn’t the Hamza everyone else saw downstairs, this version was quieter, less guarded, exhausted enough that pieces of him kept slipping through unintentionally.

And the worst part was that she couldn’t stop noticing.

Her eyes dropped briefly again to the way his forearms tensed when he moved another paper aside, to the sharp line of his jaw tightening every few seconds, to the slow inhale he took like he was forcing himself to stay patient.

Something shifted uncomfortably in her chest.

Then, before she could think better of it, she spoke. “Toh…” she started carefully, “shayad tumhein kisi aur cheez ki zarurat hai.”

The room went completely still. Hamza’s hand stopped moving entirely. Slowly, he looked up at her.

The exhaustion in his face didn’t disappear, but something else slid underneath it now. Something intriguing, and immediate enough to make her pulse stutter before she could control it.

For a second neither of them said anything. The silence stretched, sitting heavy.

“Kya matlab?” he asked finally, voice lower than before.

She should have backed down then, she should have just laughed it off.

Instead, she held his gaze. “I think tumhein break chahiye.”

His jaw tightened instantly, like he understood exactly what she meant and was trying very hard not to react to it.

“Tumhein nahi pata tum kya keh rahi ho,” he said quietly.

But there was strain beneath the words now. The kind that hadn’t been there before.

She took a small step closer to the desk anyway. “Pata hai.”

That seemed to snap the last thread of distance left between them.

His eyes flickered downwards at the change of distance between them for the briefest second before returning to her face again, slower this time. More deliberate.

The look alone made heat crawl up her spine.

“Yeh achha idea nahi hai,” he said. Yet he still hadn’t told her to leave.

Neither did he move, but the air in the room shifted, turning thick and electric. The exhaustion that had looked like defeat moments ago suddenly morphed into something intriguing, for both her and Hamza. Hamza leaned back further in his chair, his legs spreading wide, the fabric of his black trousers straining against the powerful curve of his thighs.

"Achha idea nahi hai," he repeated, but this time his voice was a low, dangerous rumble that seemed to vibrate on the very floor beneath her feet. "Because if I start, I’m not going to be gentle. I’ve had a very long week, and I have no patience left for softness."

She didn't flinch. Instead, she took a half-step closer, the hem of her nightgown brushing against his knee. "I know," she whispered, her own voice trembling slightly. "That's why I'm here."

The restraint he had been clinging to for weeks snapped. His hand shot out, his fingers curling around her waist with a strength that forced a small, sharp gasp from her lips.

He pulled her sharply between his legs, bringing her so close she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. He didn't kiss her, he just stared up at her, his eyes dark and devoid of the composure he usually wore like armor.

"Since you're so concerned about my stress," he murmured, his grip tightening until it was almost bruising, "prove it. Get on your knees."

The command was blunt. She obeyed instantly, her knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. From this angle, he looked gargantuan, a wall of muscle and tension looming over her.

As she looked up, her gaze landed on the heavy, pulsing bulge beneath his trousers. Even through the fabric, the size of him was imposing, a silent promise of how overwhelmed she was about to be.

"Take it out," he ordered, his voice rough. "Now."

With trembling fingers, she reached for the fastening of his trousers. Her hands shook as she slid the zipper down. As he sprang free, she actually stopped breathing for a second.

He was dauntingly large, a heavy length of vein-mapped heat that seemed to dominate the space between them. He was thicker than she had imagined, the head of him already weeping a small amount of pre-cum.

"Don't just stare at it like you're afraid," he groaned, his hand sliding into her hair, fingers curling tightly around the base of her ponytail to tilt her head back. "Clean me up, every inch."

She leaned forward, her lips parting as she took the head of him into her mouth. He let out a sharp, guttural hiss, his hips jerking upward instinctively. He didn't guide her, he let her struggle with the sheer girth of him. He wanted her to feel the stretch, to feel exactly how much of him there was to accommodate.

As she tried to take more, sliding deeper, she began to gag. The back of her throat tightening, her eyes watering as he filled her completely. Instead of slowing down, Hamza’s grip on her hair tightened. He began to thrust his hips up in slow, deliberate pulses, forcing himself deeper into her mouth, using her throat as a vent for the frustration and pressure of the last few weeks.

"That's it, take it all" he rasped, his voice dripping with a cold, commanding tone. "You wanted to help me relax? Then feel how much I need this."

He was relentless. He used her mouth as a tool, his movements shifting from slow and torturous to rhythmic and punishing. Every time she tried to pull back for air, he held her firmly in place, forcing her to swallow him whole until she was breathless and shivering. The sound of her wet gasps and the slapping of his skin against her chin filled the room.

Finally, he pulled her up by her hair, forcing her to stand before him. He didn't give her a moment to recover. He spun her around with one sudden movement, shoving her face-down onto the desk. Papers scattered, maps of Lyari and reports of political disputes, fluttering to the floor like discarded trash.

"You're so small under me," he whispered against her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "Just a little thing for me to use."

He gripped her hips from behind, his large hands digging into her flesh, leaving deep marks. He didn't waste time with a slow entry, he wanted to feel the friction, the resistance, the absolute conquest of her body. He positioned himself at her entrance and drove into her in one singular, brutal motion.

His grip stayed firm as he held her in place, the space between them already gone. His voice dropped lower, calm but edged with something sharp underneath it.

“I bet you’re not enjoying his company anymore,” he said quietly, like it was an observation he’d already decided on. His eyes stayed fixed on her, unblinking. “Or do you help release his stress too?”

The words weren’t loud, but the moan that followed his words was.

He brought his hands to her mouth, “Careful, we don’t want them to wake up in the middle of the night and see us now do we? She screamed into the palm of his hands as her reply, her body arching violently. He was too big, he felt like he was splitting her open, filling every single corner of her until there was no room left for air. The sensation was overwhelming, an absolute invasion that left her gasping and clinging to the edge of the desk for dear life.

"God, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice dropping into a dark, filthy register. He didn't slow down, he began to pound into her with a savage intensity, each thrust hitting her cervix with a force that made her vision blur.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," he hissed, his breath ragged. "Watching you walk around this house in those clothes... I knew pounding into you would feel this good since the first time I saw you. I could tell you were just waiting for me to stop being polite and finally use you like this."

The words were as sharp as his movements. He was degrading her, stripping away her dignity and replacing it with raw, animalistic need. Every time he slammed into her, he whispered something more explicit, how small she felt beneath him, how she was nothing more than a place for him to dump his stress, how she belonged exactly where she was, pinned to his desk and taking every inch of him.

"Do you like being my little stress relief toy?" he mocked, his voice a raspy groan. "Do you like how I'm stretching you out? Tell me."

She couldn't even form words, only incoherent whimpers and sobs of pleasure and pain. He reached forward, wrapping one large hand around her throat to choke her, though he only added enough pressure to hold her steady, pinning her firmly to the desk while he ravaged her.

With his other hand, he reached down, finding her clit and rubbing it with a punishing intensity. The combination was an assault on her senses. The sheer size of him stretching her to the limit and the friction of his fingers creating a storm of overstimulation. She began to shake, her muscles clamping tight around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure.

"Look at you," he groaned, his pace becoming frantic, his breaths coming in short, jagged gasps. "So completely undone. Just a pathetic little thing for me to break."

He drove into her one last time, deeper than before, his entire body locking up as he let out a low, groan. He filled her completely, the heat of his release pulsing inside her in waves that felt like they would never end, flooding her with the intensity of his need.

He finally pulled out of her, his chest heaving against her back, his grip on her throat softening into something almost possessive. The silence returned to the room, but it was different now, the tension was gone, replaced by a heavy, sated exhaustion. He had used her to empty himself of every ounce of stress, leaving them both broken and breathless amidst the wreckage of his work.

“Rehman bhai ko aaj raat ke baare mein kabhi pata nahi chalna chahiye,” Hamza said, running a hand through his hair.

She raised an eyebrow. “Achha sirf aaj raat ki baat hai? Iska matlab yeh aakhri baar nahi tha?”

A faint smirk appeared on his face. “Woh mere stress level par depend karta hai.”

She hummed thoughtfully, clearly pretending to consider something. “Stress level par? Theek hai phir.” She nodded seriously. “Kal se main uske saath aur zyada waqt guzaar leti hoon.”

Hamza’s expression immediately hardened. “Bilkul nahi.” The response came far too quickly.

Her smile widened. “Arre, kyun? Mujhe laga tumhein koi farq nahi padta.”

She laughed softly before stepping away. “Chinta mat karo. Main Abbu ko bata deti hoon ke tum aaj kal kitne free ho. Shayad thoda aur kaam de dein tumhein.”

Hamza groaned. “Tum meri zindagi barbaad kar dogi.”

“Tumhari?” she shot back with a grin. “Mujhe toh lagta hai kisi aur ki zindagi zyada mushkil ho jayegi agar main uske saath phir se chai peene baith gayi.”

The look he gave her only made her laugh harder. “Goodnight, Hamza.” She said before quietly slipping back into her room as if nothing had ever happened.

─── ⋆.𐙚 ̊ ───

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Salt and Sin (Sanjaya x Anya x Dev)

Summary - In the haze of a Goa summer vacation, 25-year old Anya arrives at a luxurious beach resort with her old college friends, seeking sun-soaked freedom and carefree nights. Unbeknownst to her, her father's old confidant, the brooding political strategist Sanjaya Baru (mid-40s) and the enigmatic Dev Verma (late 30s) are also there. The paths of these worlds collide by chance at the resort's infinity pool overlooking the Arabian Sea, where the humid air thickens with unspoken tensions and the huge age chasm between the seasoned men and the vibrant young woman sparks an irresistible, taboo pull.

Warning - threesome, sex, 18+, public, taboo, double penetration, age-gap relationships, mature themes, and morally ambiguous situations.

Unedited hn please spare! Jldi edit krugi

Goa, near Arabian Sea...

The late afternoon sun dips low, casting golden ripples across the resort's private pool area, where Anya lounges on a chaise in her skimpy red bikini, her lithe, sun-kissed body glistening with lotion. She's alone for the moment, her friends off exploring the beach, sipping a chilled mango lassi as she scrolls through her phone, oblivious to a figure emerging from the shaded cabanas nearby. Sanjaya, in loose swim trunks that hug his toned, mature frame, strides in first, towel slung over his broad shoulders, his salt-and-pepper hair damp from a recent dip. He spots Anya immediately—recognizing her from old family outings—and a flicker of surprise crosses his sharp features. 'Anya? Little Anya, all grown up,' he says with a low, velvety rumble, settling onto the lounge chair beside hers, his presence commanding yet restrained. "Sanjaya sir........aap yaha"? she exclaimed.

Sanjaya leaned back on the poolside lounge chair, his smirk widening as he watched Anya's subtle squirm under his gaze. "So, Anya," Sanjaya started, his voice low and teasing, eyes lingering on the way her bikini top hugged her curves. "Alone time, huh? From your friends? Or just escaping the chaos?"

Anya shifted, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. She took another sip of her lassi, the straw pulling at her lips, aware of Dev's eyes tracing the motion. "Yeah, something like that," she replied softly, her voice a mix of shyness and curiosity. "They're all over the beach, taking selfies and stuff. I just... needed a break."

Out of the corner of the pool, Dev strides towards them. Anya immediately recognizes him as her father's childhood friend - she used to fight with him for more chocolates when she was young. Dev settled on her other side, the water from his swim still glistening on his toned torso. Dev chuckled, his deep voice rumbling as he draped the towel over his shoulders, droplets sliding down his chest toward the waistband of his swim trunks. "Sounds familiar. Goa can be overwhelming with crowds. But hey, looks like you found some company anyway." His gaze flicked to Sanjaya, then back to her, intense and appraising.

Sanjaya turned to Anya, his tone playful. "He's always like this—emerging from the water like some Greek god. Makes the rest of us look bad."

Anya laughed lightly, her eyes darting between them, the tension in the air thickening with their proximity. The pool area felt more intimate now, the distant beach sounds fading. "Greek god? That's a bit much. But... you do look like you spend a lot of time at the gym."

Dev's lips curved into a slow smile, leaning in just a fraction closer, his arm brushing the edge of her chair. "Guilty. What about you? College life keeping you busy, or do you sneak in some workouts too? You seem... fit." His eyes dipped briefly to her toned thighs, then up to meet hers.

"I try," Anya said, her voice catching slightly as she felt sandwiched between them. She set her lassi down, the glass sweating in the heat. "Yoga mostly. Helps with the stress. But nothing like whatever you two are into. Sanjaya, you said Dev came with you—what about the others?"

Sanjaya waved a hand dismissively, his fingers grazing her knee accidentally—or was it? "Oh, them? Just some old buddies from work. Boring types who think sightseeing churches is a vacation highlight. We're the fun ones here." He paused, his observant eyes catching the flush on her neck. "Speaking of fun... you offering that lassi to share, or is it all yours?"

Anya hesitated, picking up the glass again and holding it out toward him, her arm trembling just a bit. "Here, it's mango. Pretty good."

Before Sanjaya could take it, Dev reached over, his wet hand brushing hers as he intercepted. "Mind if I try first? Thirsty after that swim." He took a long pull from the straw, his eyes locked on hers the whole time, mimicking the motion she'd done earlier. The intimacy of it made her pulse quicken.

"Hey, no fair," Sanjaya protested, laughing as he snatched the glass next. "Always stealing my drinks. Anya, don't let this guy charm his way into everything."

She bit her lip, smiling despite the growing warmth pooling in her stomach. "It's fine, there's enough for all. But... what are you two even doing here at the pool? Not church people, I guess."

Dev handed the lassi back, his fingers lingering on hers. "Escaping the beach crowds too. Sanjaya spotted you from afar—said you looked like you could use some decent conversation."

"I did not say that," Sanjaya interjected, though his smirk said otherwise. He sipped, then leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "You stood out, little one. In deep thought and alone. Couldn't resist saying hi."

Anya's heart raced, trapped between their solid presences on either side. The sun beat down, mirroring the heat building inside her. "Well... thanks, I guess. It's not every day two guys like you just... appear in Goa"

"Guys like us?" Dev echoed, his voice dropping lower, hand resting casually on the chair arm near her thigh. "What do you mean by that?"

She swallowed, meeting his gaze, then Sanjaya's teasing one. "You know...old....-er." she laughed.

"Careful, there" Sanjaya warned. "We might be older but still have stamina".

Anya choked on lassi, eyes widened and in surprise as Dev took the glass from her and patted her back to soothe her. "Easy, there" he confronted.

"I meant...Built. Confidence. Not like my college friends who are all awkward and giggly." she reprimanded.

Sanjaya's eyes darkened with interest. "Awkward, huh? We can fix that. Tell us more about you, Anya. What kind of alone time were you really craving?"

The question hung in the air, loaded, as Dev's foot nudged hers under the chair, a subtle spark igniting.

The three exchange polite small talk—Sanjaya reminiscing about her childhood antics, Dev sharing vague tales of his police travels—while the air hums with undercurrents. anya feels the weight of their gazes: Sanjaya's experienced eyes lingering on the swell of her breasts, Dev's more playful stare tracing her toned legs. She laughs off their compliments on how she's 'blossomed,' but her cheeks flush under the sun, a subtle heat building in her core as they invite her to join them for a swim.

Reluctantly, she slips into the warm water, the three forming a loose triangle in the deeper end. Sanjaya swims close, his arm brushing hers 'accidentally' as he demonstrates a relaxed stroke, his rough hand grazing her waist underwater, sending a shiver through her despite the tropical warmth. Dev circles behind, his leg pressing against her thigh in the gentle waves, his breath warm on her neck as he made small talks. No words cross the line yet—just lingering touches, shared glances that hold a fraction too long, and Anya's growing awareness of their mature, potent masculinity contrasting her fresh vitality. As the sun sets, painting the sky in fiery hues, they part with promises of drinks later, the subtle friction leaving Anya's pulse racing and her body tingling with unspoken curiosity.

The resort's private pool shimmered under the night sky now, stars twinkling like distant witnesses to the unfolding night. What had started as a coincidental overlap of weekend trips—Anya and her friends on one side, her father's old buddies Sanjaya and Dev with their own group on the other—had quieted into this intimate pocket of time. Her friends had long since retreated to their rooms, leaving the pool area hushed, enclosed by swaying palm trees that blocked any prying eyes from the main resort grounds. The water lapped gently against the edges, warm from the day's heat, as Anya stood near the shallow end, her skimpy red bikini clinging to her damp skin after an hour of playful swimming and races with the two men.

Sanjaya and Dev floated on their backs nearby, their bodies relaxed in the buoyant water, gazing up at the constellations. Sanjaya's salt-and-pepper hair fanned out slightly, his mature, toned frame cutting a silhouette against the rippling surface. Dev, with his athletic build, let out a low chuckle, his voice carrying over the soft splashes. 'Come on, join us. Lie back and look at the stars—it's the best part of nights like this.'

She hesitated, fingers trailing the pool's edge, her lithe form silhouetted by the faint glow of underwater lights. 'I... I have a hard time with backstrokes,' she admitted, a shy laugh escaping her lips, though her pulse quickened under their attentive stares.

Sanjaya rolled onto his side, swimming closer with deliberate strokes, his arm brushing hers in what felt like an accidental graze—but the contact lingered, his rough palm skimming her wrist underwater. A shiver raced through her, cutting through the tropical warmth. 'No worries, we'll teach you,' he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against her skin. Dev nodded, closing the distance from the other side. 'Yeah, relax. Lie back on the water like you're on a bed. We've got you.'

Anya's breath hitched as she eased backward, the water cradling her shoulders. Sanjaya positioned himself at her head, his strong hands supporting her upper back, guiding them out to the sides for balance. His touch was firm, callused fingers pressing just enough to send sparks up her arms. Dev moved to her lower body, his palms sliding under her waist and hips, lifting her legs gently until they floated parallel to the surface. 'That's it, let go,' Dev encouraged, his voice smooth and probing.

As she arched slightly to stay afloat, their hands adjusted—Sanjaya's one arm lying flat on her stomach to balance her, fingers splaying across the soft skin there, steadying her with a touch that bordered on possessive. Dev's grip on her hips tightened, thumbs circling her waist before inching downward, soothing the muscles in slow, deliberate strokes. Her chest heaved with each breath, the thin red fabric of her bikini top straining against the rise and fall, nipples hardening under the cool night air that kissed the water's edge.

Their gazes locked on her - the air thickened, charged with unspoken heat. Sanjaya's hands ventured higher, palms gliding up her sides, brushing the undersides of her breasts through the bikini, a feather-light pressure that made her gasp softly. 'Breathe steady,' he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

Dev mirrored the intensity from below, his fingers kneading her thighs now, parting them just enough to stand firmly between them right at her knees. The pressure was insistent, rubbing slow circles against her inner thigh, inches from the heat building in her core. Anya's body tensed, then melted under their combined hold, her pulse throbbing in rhythm with the water's gentle waves.

Without a word, Sanjaya's hand dipped upwards, fingers tracing the delicate ties of her bikini top at the back. He tugged them loose with agonizing slowness, each pull deliberate, the knot unraveling thread by thread as if he were unwrapping a forbidden gift. The fabric slackened against her skin, but he didn't let it fall—not yet. Dev's movements synced perfectly, his fingers hooking the thin ribbons at her hips, drawing them free one agonizing inch at a time. The bottoms loosened, the material shifting loosely over her mound, exposing glimpses of her smooth skin beneath the rippling water. Sanjaya kept her head cradled above the surface with one steady hand under her neck, his thumb stroking her jawline in slow, possessive circles, while his other palm pressed flat against her upper chest, holding the bikini top in place just enough to tease the impending reveal.

Anya's breath came in shallow gasps, her body still arched in the water, floating vulnerably between them. She felt the cool night air kiss the edges where fabric met flesh, her nipples straining against the now-slack cups, hardening into tight peaks that begged for attention. Her pussy throbbed under the loosened bottoms, the ties undone leaving the material to drift like a whisper, barely covering her folds as water currents teased her exposed clit.

They didn't step back. Instead, they closed in tighter, their bodies hovering over hers in the buoyant hold, prolonging the torment. Sanjaya's free hand slid down her side, fingers hooking under the loosened edge of her bikini top. He peeled it back incrementally, exposing one breast at a time to the starry sky and their ravenous stares. The cool air hit her bare nipple first, making it pucker further, and he wasted no time—his rough palm cupping the underside, thumb flicking over the sensitive bud in lazy, torturous strokes. 'Look at you, so eager already,' he murmured, voice a gravelly whisper that vibrated through the water, his fingers pinching and rolling the nipple until she arched higher, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

Dev mirrored the assault from her lower half, his hands still gripping her thighs but now venturing bolder. He tugged the loosened bikini bottoms aside with one finger, the fabric bunching to the side and fully baring her pussy to the warm pool water and his probing touch. Her lips parted slightly from the exposure, slickness mixing with the liquid around her, and he traced her outer folds with feather-light pressure—circling the entrance without entering, then dragging up to graze her swollen clit. The touch was feather-soft at first, building to firmer rubs that made her hips buck involuntarily against his hand. 'Stay still, let us play,' Dev commanded softly, his other hand kneading her inner thigh, spreading her thighs wider while his knee pressed between her legs, the rough texture of his swim trunks grinding slowly against her bare ass cheek.

Anya's chest heaved, the remaining bikini top slipping further under Sanjaya's manipulations until both breasts were fully exposed, bouncing gently with each ragged breath. Water lapped at her naked torso, heightening the sensation as Sanjaya's mouth descended, lips brushing the curve of one breast before capturing the nipple between his teeth—nipping lightly, then sucking with a wet pull that sent jolts straight to her core. His tongue swirled around the peak, laving it thoroughly while his hand massaged the other breast, squeezing the soft flesh until it spilled between his fingers. From behind her head, he controlled her every reaction by holding her head above the water, tilting her head up to force her gaze to the stars, but her eyes fluttered shut against the onslaught.

Dev's fingers grew more insistent, two dipping just inside her pussy's entrance—stretching her slightly just testing her enough to make her whimper, curling to stroke the sensitive front wall in unhurried pumps that matched the slow roll of his hips against her thigh. He avoided her clit now, letting it throb untouched, aching for more as he focused on her inner heat, drawing out her arousal until she clenched around him desperately. His free hand roamed higher, tracing the seam where her ass met the water, a finger pressing firmly against her tight rear hole—circling the puckered entrance, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp and tense, but not breaching, only teasing the forbidden promise.

Their bodies pressed closer as they helped her stand from the backstroke position and in between them; Sanjaya's chest brushing her shoulders as he leaned in to kiss along her collarbone, teeth grazing the skin while his cock, hard and insistent in his trunks, nudged her arm underwater. Dev's erection strained forward, bumping her spread thigh with each subtle grind, the heat of it palpable through the thin barrier. The pool's privacy enveloped them, the swaying trees rustling like conspirators, as they toyed with her loosened form—bikini top dangling uselessly from one shoulder, bottoms askew and forgotten. Anya writhed in the water, caught in their web of slow, burning touches, every nerve alight with the intensity of their teasing, her body a canvas for their deliberate exploration, pleasure coiling tighter without mercy or release.

Sanjaya moved first, closing in from behind, his broad chest pressing against her back as his arms encircled her waist hoisting up. Dev approached from the front, their bodies forming a tight sandwich in the shallow water, trapping her between them. Sanjaya's cock, already hardening in his trunks, ground against her ass in slow, deliberate thrusts—each roll of his hips pressing the thick length along her crack, the fabric barrier doing little to dull the heat. From the front, Dev's erection strained against his swim shorts, nudging her mound with rhythmic grinds, the friction building a slow fire in her clit.

Anya's head fell back onto Sanjaya's shoulder, a soft moan escaping as his hands cupped her breasts fully now, palms rough against her sensitive skin. He squeezed them methodically, thumbs circling her nipples before pinching them lightly, tugging until she arched into his touch. His lips found her neck, kissing the pulse point there with open-mouthed presses, teeth grazing just enough to mark without breaking skin. 'So responsive,' he growled low, his breath hot against her ear, hips continuing their unhurried grind, clothed cock sliding up and down her ass cheeks.

Dev's hands gripped her thighs, lifting her legs to hook around his waist, spreading her open underwater. Her pussy lips parted slightly, exposed to the current and his probing fingers. He worked her slowly, one hand steadying her hip while the other traced her folds—fingers dipping in to circle her entrance, coating themselves in her growing wetness before sliding up to rub her clit in languid strokes. 'Feel that?' he murmured, voice husky, his cock pressing harder against her inner thigh as he ground forward, the head of it bumping her clit with each pass.

"Dev, Sanjaya"

Her one hand extended back instinctively, wrapping around Sanjaya's neck to balance, pulling him closer so his grinding became more insistent, the bulge of his cock nestling deeper between her ass cheeks. Her another hand pressed on Dev's hair as he slowly lowered himself down , hovering near her clit, pressing sloppy kisses on her inner thighs. Water sloshed around them, the sounds mingling with her ragged breaths and their low grunts. Dev's fingers delved deeper now, two slipping inside her pussy with a slow push, curling to stroke her inner walls while his thumb maintained pressure on her clit. The pace was torturously measured, each thrust of his fingers matching the roll of his hips, building the ache without rushing to release. Occasionally, he would drop down and devour her pussy in his mouth.

Sanjaya's mouth trailed kisses along her shoulder, one hand abandoning her breast to tangle in her wet hair, tilting her head for better access as he sucked a mark into her neck. His free hand joined the fray from behind, fingers tracing down her spine to her ass, kneading the flesh before one digit pressed against her tight rear entrance—circling, teasing entry without penetrating, heightening the dual assault. Their bodies moved in sync, grinding from opposite sides, cocks rubbing her relentlessly while hands explored every inch.

Anya's moans grew breathier, her body trembling between them, the slow burn igniting every nerve. The stars above blurred as pleasure coiled tighter, their touches deliberate, drawing out the tension until she was a quivering mess in their grasp, utterly surrendered to the night's forbidden rhythm.

Their hands moved with urgent need, Sanjaya and Dev both freeing their throbbing cocks from the confines of their swim trunks. Dev's length sprang out first, thick and veined, already leaking pre-cum as he positioned himself in front of her in the shallow end of the pool. The water lapped at her waists, cool against the fire building in the core. He gripped her hips, guiding the swollen head of his cock to her slick entrance, pushing in slowly, inch by inch, stretching her pussy around his girth.

Anya threw herself forward against his chest, a sharp cry escaping as the initial burn of fullness hit her. 'Easy there... hum tumhare saath hain,' Dev whispered, his voice a soothing rumble against her ear. He cupped her face, forcing her gaze to meet his dark, intense eyes. 'Relax karo, jaan. Saans lo, hum dheere se karenge.' His thumb stroked her cheek, holding until her body began to adjust; her walls clenching and fluttering around him.

From behind, Sanjaya's cock ached, pressing insistently against her ass. As she clung to Dev, arms wrapped around his neck, Sanjaya aligned himself, the tip nudging her tight rear entrance. 'Taiyaar ho? Main andar aa raha hoon,' he growled low, one hand spreading her cheeks while the other steadied her hip. He thrust forward gradually, the pressure building until he breached her, sliding deep into her ass with a slow, relentless push. The double penetration sent a wave of borderline pain ripping through her; her moans turning into whimpers as they filled her completely, sandwiched between their hard bodies.

Her breasts pressed flat against Dev's chest, nipples scraping his skin with every ragged breath.

"Ahh..oh god.." Anya's exclaimed, feeling tight from the both sides.

They began thrusting in unison, cocks plunging in and out—Dev claiming her pussy with deep, measured strokes, Sanjaya pounding her ass with equal rhythm. Water splashed, her breasts jiggling wildly as she gripped Dev's shoulders for dear life. 'Aah!' she cried out, the overwhelming sensation making her vision blur.

They slowed immediately, Dev's hands pausing on her waist while Sanjaya stilled behind her. 'Ruk jaayein? Dard ho raha hai kya?' Dev asked, concern lacing his husky tone as he searched her face. Sanjaya leaned in, lips brushing her shoulder. 'Batao, rukna hai toh ruk jaayenge.'

'No,' Anya gasped, shaking her head despite the ache. 'Mat rukiye... continue karo.'

Dev's expression softened into a predatory smile, his hand caressing her cheek tenderly. 'Theek hai, meri jaan.' Sanjaya pressed a hot kiss to her neck, sucking the skin there as his teeth grazed lightly. 'Good girl,' he murmured against her pulse.

They resumed, thrusts picking up pace, cocks driving deeper, harder. Anya moans filled the air, echoing off the pool tiles—raw, desperate sounds as pleasure overrode the pain. Dev's hands wrapped around her waist, holding steady as he fucked up into her pussy; his grip bruising in the best way. Sanjaya's fingers dug into her thighs, spreading wider, opening her up for his relentless assault on her ass. 'Fuck.... kitni tight ho tum,' Sanjaya groaned, his voice strained with lust.

Anya's head fell back onto Sanjaya's shoulder, eyes squeezing shut as ecstasy built like a storm. Legs shaking in the water, breaths coming in harsh pants, she shattered - orgasm crashing over her - pussy and ass clenching around their cocks in violent spasms. 'Ahhh...i am close!' she screamed, body convulsing between them.

But they didn't stop, working through her climax with unyielding strokes, drawing out every tremor. 'Ahhh... it's too much!' she cried, overwhelmed, tears pricking from her eyes from the intensity.

'Baby, bas thoda aur... kuch minute aur,' Dev coaxed, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss to muffle her whimpers. His tongue plunged deep, tasting her cries as he swallowed them. Sanjaya's hands roamed up, capturing her breasts, fingers pinching and twisting her nipples sharply. 'fuck... so soft, jaan,' he rasped, rolling them between his thumbs.

The overload from every side—cocks stretching her, mouths devouring, hands tormenting—pushed her over the edge again. Her orgasmed harder, walls milking them desperately. Sanjaya and Dev followed seconds later, groaning as they came, hot spurts of cum flooding her pussy and ass, filling her to the brim while still buried deep.

Dev caressed her closed eyes, wiping away the tears with gentle thumbs. 'Oh baby, tum itni amazing thi... itna perfect,' he whispered, voice thick with awe. Sanjaya soothed her trembling hands with his own, interlacing fingers. 'Bilkul lajawab.'

Slowly, they withdrew their softening cocks, but stayed pressed close, bodies enveloping her in the water. Anya tried to stand, legs wobbling, but dizziness hit, and she swayed. Sanjaya's arms caught her instantly. 'Robe laao,' he commanded Dev over her shoulder.

Dev nodded, securing his swim trunks before vanishing across the pool, returning swiftly with a soft white robe. Sanjaya rushed her to the pool's edge, helping lift her exhausted body to Dev, who scooped her up effortlessly, wrapping the robe around her shivering form. Anya's eyes dropped, mind reeling as she tried to process the whirlwind of what just happened—the raw, consuming pleasure that left her utterly spent.

'Chalo, kuch kha laate hain... room service better rahega,' Dev said, cradling her against his chest as he headed toward his nearby cabana, Sanjaya close behind.

Inside the cool, shaded space, room service arrived quickly—fresh fruits, chilled drinks, and light sandwiches. Anya ate in silence at first, the three of them perched on the edge of the king-sized bed, the air still humming with residual heat. Sanjaya watched her with a soft, like an older man cherishing something precious. 'Hey... mujhe dekho,' he said gently, tilting her chin up.

Hesitating, Anya lifted her eyes to his, sitting there on the bed's edge, body aching in the most delicious way. He cupped her cheeks, drawing her in for a slow, tender kiss, lips lingering before his fingers threaded through her hair, caressing soothingly. 'Aao, nap lete hain. Thak gayi ho tum.'

Dev slipped into the bathroom for a moment, and Sanjaya pulled her into his arms, her head resting on his chest as drowsiness tugged at her. Exhaustion finally won, her eyelids fluttering shut. Dev returned, sliding onto the bed from the other side, his strong hands beginning a gentle massage on her thighs, kneading the sore muscles with firm, caring strokes.

As sleep dawned over the her; nestled between them—Sanjaya's warmth at the back, Dev's solid presence in front—cradled securely as she dozed off. Sanjaya and Dev remained hazily awake, their eyes on her peaceful face.

"kitni young aur fresh hai,' Dev commented softly, his fingers still working her skin.

'Kitni sundar ban gayi hai...' Sanjaya added, voice laced with wonder.

'Main soch bhi nahi sakta ki yeh wahi ladki hai jo mujhse zyada chocolate ke liye jhagadti thi,' Dev chuckled quietly, his hand trailing up to massage her calf.

'Haan, ab dekho usko... itni raw, itni tight,' Sanjaya gasped, his breath hitching as he recalled the feel in the pool.

Together, lying down, Anya slept soundly while Sanjaya and Dev continued their tender attentions—kneading her thighs, legs, and even brushing lightly over her breasts to soothe every inch of her body, their touches now pure comfort, lulling her deeper into rest.

The end

Bahot bakwass likha hai...please spare me.... I swear mere story lines and writing kafi achi hai... once i am finally free from stuffs I will move from writing smutty one-shot to long series with great plotline and depth.

First I will continue with the Qayamat se qayamat tk, then blood, orders and desire.

I am having one idea about Uzair X already married female lead.

Hope you all can see them soon!!! Tab tk mere cringe-ass one shot padho...

@balochhaveli @moonysscar @ch3rrycok3s @wannabefucko @cloudmast @perfectcherryblossomrebel @lessbutliving @maraudersbitchesassemble @miraclejin1204 @gehra-hua @twinblueflamee @orchidpr1ncess @luvvkk @angellwhispers @diaryofawhoretbh @imthebadguyyy @ramayantika @akshayepaglu @sanpiece @mandaakiniii @depressedgiftedburnout @softkissesandicecreams @between-smoke-and-roses @draculauras-stuff @darkstrawberrypirate @life-of-procrastination @desigal-26 @mariaaysbusjs @allthingsmythology @saltedburns @mfnwrites @tere-naal-nachna @angelllk1ssed @marlena-marlena @golgappalicious @peonies7002 @roses-and-iron @misteriadare @fleurenoir @ppinkitten @pleasetagmejaaneman @sanjaya-baru @akshayepaglu @rehmandakaitswife

#major iqbal #arjun rampal #major iqbal x reader #desiblr #pinda x reader #gurbaaz singh #rehman x reader #rehman dakait x reader #akshaye khanna x reader #dhurandhar #dev verma #sanjaya baru #rehman dakait fanfic #rehman x oc #dhurandar

Hamza trying to get in and Uzair starts droning about his backstory... Galat Fehmi Uzair part 2 😜

#dhurandhar #dhurandhar 2 #dhurandar the revenge #dhurandhar the revenge #hamza ali mazari #uzair baloch #hamza x uzair #uzair x hamza #hamza ali mazari x uzair baloch #danish pandor #ranveer singh #hamzair #dhuranandar2 #dhurandar #dhurandar fandom #dhurandhar textposts #dhurandhar text posts

Meri Sohni Vohti (MilitaryHusband!Jaskirat x reader)

Note: This is a scheduled post. If I don't reply, it's because I didn't see it. TW: Sexual Content MDNI Based on a request, but it was an anonymous one

The moment you heard the front door open, your heart fluttered.

Your husband was home.

I am probably the first person whose home comes to them. You giggled, imagining a cement house walking with its cement legs.

Jaskirat stepped in, looking every bit the handsome and brave man he was in his olive-green army uniform. A duffel bag of a similar color slung over his shoulder. The strip of his bag had little hearts embroidered on it. You made them when he came back on his first leave—something to remind him of your love when he was away, and every time he is back, a little something is added onto it.

He looked at you, his warm green eyes lit up the second your eyes met, with a signature smile spread around his face.

“Hi, jaan,” he said, voice smooth and teasing. “Did my beautiful wife miss her husband, or should I go back outside and knock again so you can greet me properly?”

You blushed instantly, fiddling with your dupatta. “Welcome home,” you whispered.

He chuckled lightly, dropped his bag, and pulled you into his strong arms. “There’s that pretty blush I’ve been dreaming about.” He kissed your forehead, then your temple, then the tip of your nose. “I missed you so much, my shy little sweetheart.”

Soft footsteps interrupted the moment.

“Daddy!” Harjas came running with a joyful squeal. Jaskirat’s face melted into pure joy as he scooped his son up, spinning him gently.

“Mera sohna puttar!” He showered Harjas with kisses before pulling you into the group hug. “Both of my favorite people in one place. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

The dinner today was served along with stories from the cantonment, some from Harjas’ school and rest was covered by your soft smile. When it was time for bed, Harjas became tightly attached to his father, insisting on a bedtime story before he would even think of falling asleep. Jaskirat sat by his pillow as Harjas fell into the world of ten gurus that graced the planet with their souls. Once the little one was finally asleep, Jaskirat closed the bedroom door and turned to you with a flirty glint in his eyes.

He walked over slowly, like a man savoring every second. “Now… where were we?” He cupped your face tenderly, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I’ve been away too long. My wife is even more beautiful than I remembered.”

He kissed you deeply, slow and full of longing. The kiss was romantic and teasing at the same time — his lips moving against yours with practiced affection, occasionally pulling back just enough to whisper, “Still so shy when I kiss you like this? Adorable.”

He pressed his lip onto yours, kissing you slowly, full of longing. The kiss was a reminder of how much he missed waking up next to you, sharing his meals with you, arguing over who Harjas loves more (while secretly hoping it was the other one). He missed all of this and more. And he put every emotion into that one kiss. His lips moving against yours with a practiced affection, occasionally pulling back just enough to whisper.

“Still so shy when I kiss you like this?”

“How are you so pretty?”

“Meri sohni vohti”

(My beautiful wife)

“Teinu chhadd ke jaana, kade changa ni lagda meinu”

(I never like going away from you)

He guided you to the bed, laying you down gently as if you were something precious. One by one, he helped you out of your clothes, placing soft kisses on every inch of skin he uncovered.

“Look at you,” he murmured, eyes full of adoration and playful desire. “So stunning. How did I get so lucky?” He kissed along your collarbone, then lower, taking his time. “These curves… this soft skin… every part of you drives me crazy, jaan.”

You felt shy under his gaze and tried to cover yourself, but he caught your hands gently and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Don’t hide from me, meri jaan,” he said softly, though his tone was lightly teasing. “I’ve missed seeing my wife like this. Let me admire you properly.”

He undressed and joined you, pulling you close so your bodies pressed together. For a long moment, he simply held you, skin to skin, heart to heart.

“I’ve dreamed of this every night,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “Holding you. Touching you. Reminding you how madly in love I am.”

He moved over you, settling between your thighs. His eyes stayed locked on yours as he slowly joined your bodies, filling you with a shared, breathless sigh. Once fully connected, he paused and rested his forehead against yours.

“There we are,” he breathed, voice husky yet tender. “Right where I belong.”

He began moving with slow, deep, romantic strokes. His hips rolled gently, purposefully, drawing soft moans from your lips. One hand held yours above your head, fingers laced tightly, while the other caressed your body with love.

“You feel incredible,” he whispered, kissing you between words. “So warm… so perfect. I missed being this close to you, jaan. Missed the way you tremble in my arms.”

He kept his eyes on you the entire time, watching every expression on your face with deep love and affection.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he said playfully, a small smile on his lips. “Don’t get all shy now. I want to see how beautiful you look when your husband loves you like this.”

Your emotions swelled as pleasure built slowly. Tears gathered in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling of being cherished. Jaskirat kissed them away tenderly, never losing his rhythm.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. “I love how patient you are. How you wait for me. How you still blush like it’s our first time. You’re my whole world.”

The pleasure crested beautifully, washing over both of you in emotional waves. You clung to him, whispering his name as you trembled beneath him. Jaskirat followed soon after, holding you tightly as he found his release, burying his face in your neck and murmuring sweet words of love.

Afterward, he stayed inside you for a long time, simply holding you close. He rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of his chest, and wrapped his arms around you protectively. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back while he pressed soft kisses to your hair.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” he said quietly. “Not just the closeness… but you. Your love. Your shy smiles. Coming home to you and Harjas makes everything I go through worth it.”

You snuggled deeper into his chest, feeling safe. “I love you, Jas. Thank you for always making me feel wanted… even when I get shy.”

He tilted your chin up, giving you that charming, flirty smile you loved so much.

“Always, Mrs. Rangi. You’re my favorite person to flirt with, my favorite person to come home to, and the love of my life.” He kissed you softly, then grinned. “And I still have a few more days of leave… I plan on making you blush every single night.”

You laughed shyly and hid your face in his neck as he chuckled, holding you even tighter.

A/N: I hope you had fun reading this. The next is Hamzair fic. I don't have a taglist for that one, so I will just tag the ones who are common in both Hamza and Uzair taglist.

Taglist: @shadylovedhurandhar @cloudmast @araasa @dumbassdictionarysds @harrystyleskiwi9 @scentedwolfdragon @legendmoonstone @tehmam @faebutterflygayaf @goldenharrysworld @manjari08 @iamadelusionalwriter @bobcuts-blog @ai-manre @carmenred28 @velvetdakait @pleasetagmejaaneman @rehmandakaitswife @buchanana00 @yembarzal @niyadarealart @marlena-marlena @laal-pari @shadyalpaca13 @riddhi-on-break @sea-breeze-in-my-hair @yetunekyakiyaa @pixiiiiiiiiidust @gulaabjamun08 @thirteensome @idonthavechatpateusernamed @prettyprettypleaseplease @granddynamonovajbvgjjj @lakshana-ke-lakshan @rini4everdreaming @savagedrama

@debsreads21 @love-me-not27 @lcvjun @writrsblu @ib-gremlin @eypresho @mrgrungusthefrog

#dhurandhar #hamza ali mazari #dhurandhar 2 #dhurandhar fandom #desiblr #military husband jaskirat #jaskirat singh rangi fanfic #jaskirat singh rangi x reader #jaskirat x reader #jaskirat singh rangi #dhurandhar fanfiction #dhurandhar x reader #dhurandhar fanfic #dhurandar the revenge #dhurandar #dhuranandar2 #dhurandhar the revenge

the boy is mine ★ r. baloch

politician!rehman x stalker!reader

💌 : in which, after years of obsession and yearning, you finally deciding to act on your feelings on the mayor of the city, rehman baloch deciding to use your love formula to charm the mysterious man amid the constant fingers being pointed at him about the problem of rat infestation in lyari.

warnings : MDNI, themes of obsession, satire , delusional!reader, fictional use of love potion.

a/n : i remember joining tumblr 2 years ago and there was an adaptation of ariana's mv the boy is mine well the oneshot is gone now and so is the writer ;( so i wrote this one to give a tribute to that and whats better than rehman as the hot, unbothered politician, i hope u enjoy this one and (please don't flop)

a love potion

That's been resting on your marble countertop table for the past 45 minutes, trapped in a glass jar box, with a label descripting ‘rehman baloch love potion’

A pink fluid liquid filled with soft glitter particles and a special spell casted in the potion to make rehman fall in love with you.

you hover around the table, the soft eyes glinting as you register the glitter in the glass jar, placing a lid on the top with a careful precision so none of the pink fluid is spilled on the ground.

It took you six months, a half year to make this, the love potion. you had done a thorough research on the materials needed, travelled across the world for the ingredients, met the right kind of people from the corners of the country as they guided you through the process.

And the result was here, you had created your very own potion for your celebrity crush, well—he’s a politician, a very private, mysterious one, any information about him was rarely available unless he made a public appearance or did something notable for the city.

you smiled at the sight of the glistening liquid, holding it in your hand. You were proud of yourself for coming this far with your obsession now, only a night remained as a barrier between you and rehman, and then the boy was yours!.

The faint voice of the rain mixed with the sound of television was ignored by you, your entire attention remained on the bottle until the news reporter took a name that's been settled in your heart for years.

“newly elected mayor, rehman baloch—

The moment the name was spilled, you gasped turning to face the television, a crimson red shade spreading across your cheeks, your stomach flipping upside down at the mere name as if you were a school girl with a forbidden crush on the popular boy.

“To address the media any moment now, for a press conference”

A smile erupted on your face, does this mean rehman satoru is about to make a public appearance, your heart fluttered with happiness

Over the past few days, there were no statements made from his side, seeing him appear was a rare thing. The city has been going through a mundane of problems recently with the war being over with truce now the new problem has arised— rat infestation.

Fingers were pointed at him for being silent, criticised for his past ideologies but you knew he would come up with a plan that would sew the mouths of every critic, the opposition party and the people who threw daggers at him.

“Yes, is there any idea what this might be about? The news reporter asked to the another.

“Well with the laundry list of problems the city faces on daily, it's anyone's game”

The reporter nodded, “You know, I would agree, he did run a fantastic campaign during the war between the balochs and pathans bringing immediate truce in the city”

She turned to look at her fellow colleague, raising an eyebrow.

“Well here's his chance to put his money where his mouth is”

The tape cuts to the presence of rehman saturo, the charming mayor of the city, one of the people who has been critically acclaimed.

you grabbed the remote from the countertop and turned up the volume, scanning his presence from head to toe. He has graced up with a black balochi suit paired with the same coloured salwar, his clothes were neatly tucked in giving him a sharp look while the waves of his hair were slicked back.

The sight was alluring to say the least, you let yourself drown in the charm he possessed, tilting your head as he began his speech.

“Thank you, Good evening” He starts off, there is a hint of usual nonchalance his tone possesses.

“I have arranged this press conference after thorough deliberation with our city council and various other agencies”

There was a certain confidence in the way he spoke.

“To address a great and insidious threat to the sanctity to our beloved city, that is our rat infestation"

“Fuck those rats” You rolled your eyes at the threat, because of this newly raised problem people were pointing finger at rehman, your rehman.

— “ as you know the rats have plagued the city for too long spreading diseases, terrorizing homes, bringing many of our essential works to their brink”

He turned his head to the camera, the cold look in his eyes made your knees weak, he had always asserted his utmost dominance.

“So I have created a specialized committee, we have gathered the city’s overflow of stray cats”— he continues.

“And we will release them, hungry into the streets to combat this problematic situation”

He thanked the people, a vigorous amount of cameras flashing at him as he announced his departure. The tape went off now the usual news on the display.

you nodded your head as a positive outcome, a smile graced up on your lips.

“That's fucking brilliant” you say, as you remincise his newly debuted look, another verdict came to your mind, “and so hot!”

Black suits the hauntingly sad look in his eyes, It provides him the shadow of a ruler, the colour has the power to make wonders, oh— you were sure to include this on the wall of your obsession.

But for now, you need to prepare for the night, a final confrontation before both of your lives change.

“Watch me take my time” you whispered to the air, as your voice was laced with a possessive tale and months of yearning.

Before you could take a step further, a ginger cat had entered inside your house. climbing through the window in the dainty weather, accidentally stepping forward on the love potion that was ever so sweetly created by you.

When the sound of the glass breaking apart on the marble floor reached your ears, you turned back now seeing the pink liquid fluid sprawled across the tiles making a mess much to your disappointment, you looked up to see the cat fawning her innocence at you.

You gasped at the sight, the smile which reached your eyes moments ago was now replaced by a frown as you stared intensely over at the liquid, how could this happen?.

You sighed to yourself watching as the cat disappeared in the drought of rain leaving you alone with the menace she had created.

Wait, there is an idea.

you directed your steps towards the cabinet, opening it to find a pair of syringes and a glass jar you grabbed a handful of them.

walking off quickly to the scene of crime, before the liquid loses its original form you kneeled down, you clutched the syringe in your hand tightly, leaning down to inject the fluid inside the space of the syringe. You made sure that every droplet of the mess was sucked inside leaving no trace behind.

once the formula was entirely inside the space, you took the glass jar in your other hand and meticulously so, the tiniest bit if your attention remained on injecting the potion back in the jar.

staring at the masterpiece yet at its form again, you smirked, glancing at the small clock placed on a table, only a few minutes remained until you chased your dreams, until you made it happen.

your attention wavered on the wall above the clock, filled with rehman’s pictures from his interviews, speeches, paparazzi’s, every single one of his appearances was plastered on the wall. Beside his pictures were the heart-shaped drawings with ‘be mine’ and ‘love you forever’ written on it.

this was your love for him, when you first saw him. It was years ago, he had newly entered the field of politics, a young soul with fire in his eyes and courage to conquer the world, you knew he was meant to be yours for eternity and so, and he has been your secret obsession ever since.

pulling you out of your thoughts , the clock hit the alarm, indicating it was the time before midnight strikes meaning you had to make your moves as fast as possible.

—

the black leather dress, with a mix of sheer panelling the chest area creating a rich latex pattern on the front side, a cinched waist corset that flows into a mini-skirt with a flare that accents at hips.

there were still some changes to be made in the fabric especially at the detailing of the sleeves, you sat yourself down locking in for the final hour. you grabbed the tools from the box as you sewed the sheer cut-outs of the detached sleeve made of the same material, stitching the pattern along the entire arm.

the clock ticked at the final hour.

you moved to wear the gorgeous latex dress, encrypting a black tape around your neck to give you the cinematic look.

then at your vanity, picking up various brushes to give the lifted look that made your higher cheekbones evident contouring your sharp features, then at you eyes drawing a perfect winged eyeliner accentuated with a subtle hint eye-makeup shades of dark brown mixed with the black and towards your final step, you put on the gloss giving you the final touch.

there was still one last step remaining, your headpiece. A structured textured black cap that features cat-ear at points that masks half of your face which gives you the disguise of a catwomen.

you were ready to conquer the knight of your heart, the one who was currently busy conquering the city.

Indeed, you had to claim that boy as yours.

—

The rain was still present, faint droplets falling on the latex of your dress. midnight had dawned upon the sky, a manifestation of the desire you have been craving for months.

you stand on the high-rise building of the city, scanning the streets, the rat infestation plan seems to be working, the cats have been navigating through the narrowest valleys like a predator searching for their prey from your view.

now it's your time to look for your prey, you move from one building to another, jumping through space, the huge welt in your hand making its presence evident before yours with a loud bang.

as you reached closer to the destination, your heart started beating hastily, yes, you were finally acting up on this crush of yours but there was a certain doubt lingering in the back of your mind, will the potion work? will you have your happily-ever-after with him. but then, another voice came forward and reminded, you know you are simply meant to be.

—

rehman’s penthouse resides in one of the most influential buildings in lyari , a fortress of glasses and steel that locks down the high profile names in a safe place.

he moves in the drawing room, his footsteps coming to a halt at a section tucked away in corners, where he keeps his drinks, he sits on one of the stools placed before the bar and nurses himself a glass of whiskey.

to say he was tired would be an understatement— he was utterly done with his job, there was obvious stress stretched across his face, the dark holes under his eyes being one of the proof.

a man like him, who preferred to stay out of chaos was getting dragged in the unwanted attention, he was under the pressure to prove himself again and so he will. The world will watch him walk through the paths of his success, all the people who doubt him will soon be the one bowing their heads at him.

as he picked up the ice and dropped it in his drink, he could feel a presence, a black shadow staring at him through the glass of his house. he looked up in the direction but there was not one single soul to be seen.

he must be imagining things, yet again, he sighed to himself, first it was his insomnia that made his life miserable and now infueld delusions.

rehman sighed at himself getting up from his seat, the balochi kurta from earlier now smudged in his sweat, clutching to his body like a second skin.

he made his way towards the bathroom, the one connected to his bedroom placing his hands on both ends of the sink, he looked at the reflection of the man who had been through rough patches, he stared into the deep brown colour of his orbs drowning himself in his misery.

unable to hold any longer, he took his drink and poured the ice in the basin. opening the tap so that the sink was filled with cold water.

he leaned down, sinking further in the water letting his misery flow down in the form of water.

That's when he heard the sound, a streak sound of a door being scratched on the wooden floor.

he tilted his head towards the sound, from the corner of his eyes, he caught the sheer presence of the black shadow. long black nails were wrapped around the door. But before he could get a grip of that person, the shadow disappeared in the darkness of his bedroom.

the water was overflowing, he could feel the droplets on his feet. he quickly closed the tap and walked out of the bathroom.

to find a sight, that made the hair on the back of his neck stand with a shock, his fingers clutched tightly around the glass he was holding, the colour on his face was drained. he gulped down the fear that has been agonizing in his mind.

you sat on his bed, sprawled across the mattress like a queen as if you owned the penthouse. a smirk displayed on your face as you stared at his disheveled state, the target was under your threat.

you waved your hands, greeting him with a soft grace.

once rehman processed your presence, he realised your ulterior motive, his instincts kicking faster. he dropped the glass on the floor spilling some amount of liquid, he ran in the opposite direction.

before he could take two steps further in the direction of exit, your welt did its job. trapping his left leg inside the material.

now despite his unwilling self, he was being pushed forward in your direction. rehman was trying hard, scraping his knees on the ground, using his hips as a momentum to stop being pulled any further.

but then as he looked at you, the outfit that clinged to the curves of your body. his eyes went up to your face which was hidden by the cat headpiece, a curiosity arose mixed with admiration, he found himself dragging in the love spell already.

he liked the thought of a person being obsessed with this amount of degree, the mere thought made him want to keep you with him for the rest of your lives.

once he was near your feet, you crouched down on his level. rehman’s eyes followed your every moment with blatant need of seeing your next move.

“Mr.Baloch get ready to be trapped with me for the eternity”

you toss the lid of the jar, his eyes wavered on the label on the glass ‘rehman baloch love potion'

rehman looks back at you, his gaze filled with the intensity of desire, the hands side of the floor shaking to remove that mask of yours.

as you grabbed his jaw in your palm, tilting his head up, your hold tightened as the moments passed. you smiled in victory as your hands moved to drown the fluid in his jaw.

his hands shoot up, grabbing your hand before you make any further move.

the feeling of his palms resting on yours electrified a jolt from your body.

a fear curdled in your mind, what if he wanted this to stop even before you have him the love potion, does that mean the liquid will not work.

your fear was changed with confusion when his fingers lifted your headpiece.

the look in your eyes made him want to surrender, your beauty was impeccable. more important were the efforts you took for him, rehman was drawn to you naturally. his hands resting on your cheek, stroking the skin with soft, romantic intention.

the level of your confusion had reached its peak, there was a wave of hesitation across your eyes.

“w-what are you—

your words remain in your throat, when he grabs the potion from your other hand and crashes it on the wall making you flinch at the voice.

you stared back at him, his hands which rested on your cheek now gripped your chin in a soft hold.

“I don't need any love potion to fall in love with you”

he leaned further, stopping inches away from your lips. the expensive cinnamon scent hitting your senses, your eyes widened as he closed the distance.

“Because I feel already gravitated towards your charm, darling…I want to willingly spend the rest of my life under your authority” .

His hands moved to the side of your neck, his thumb resting over the racing pulse of the jaw, tilting your head up, rehman smashes his lips onto yours, It wasn't gentle. the intensity of the kiss magnified a jolt through your body.

his lips moved onto yours with a hungry, desperate need. the hand on the back of your neck tightening as he leaned deeper, the hotness of his mouth burning the desire into yours.

As he brought the raw passionate intensity with him, you wondered if you have been kissed before like this, the way your toes curl at the friction of his tongue movimg inside you, tasting the sweetness of your mouth.

rehman pulled apart, in a need for a breath. his chest rising up and down in the aftermath.

he looks at you again, this time with a possessive gaze in his eyes.

his hands move to your jaw to grip it in a tight hold, "I am never letting you go, let me be yours for the rest of our lives"

stars were aligned.

And just like that, the boy was yours. you didn't need any pink liquid to make him fall in love with you, the mayor of the city—the ruthless politician was helplessly devoted to you.

NOTE- this is based on akshaye khanna's portrayal in the movie dhurandar, I do not encourage or condemn the terrorism involving his character in the movie.

also sorry if this was badly written, comment to be added in rehmans taglist

Qafs

UZAIR X READER

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