idiots in love [uzair x oc] [01]
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i can’t believe i’m actually doing this but to be cringe is to be free and whatnot, also. idk what this is ?? atp but yeah it is what it is.
word count: 2.5k (not proofread, not edited)
it goes without saying that the characters (except for my ocs) in this story are solely based on the fictionalised version depicted in aditya dhar’s dhurandhar and are not meant to glorify any of their real life counterparts.
Mira knew her marriage was always going to be a political affair, she had made peace with it. She knew her father and his ways, she had learned early on that it would be better for everyone if she just kept quiet and endured it. That it would never matter what she said or what she felt as long as he willed it.
Amal Rasheed had never been anything more than a businessman. He saw his own marriage too, as nothing but a means to an end, a golden opportunity to expand his business empire, pushing him one step closer to his mission, establishing himself as one of the most influential figures in real estate, owning most of the properties in Karachi and nearby cities.
She expected to marry someone she had never known, but she never expected that someone to be one of the most terrifying men she had met. She knew her father was cruel, but to barter her to a family of gangsters? That was a new low. She had expected to be paired with the son of some low life politician or even a struggling businessman, but never to Uzair Baloch, Rehman Dakait’s terrifying shadow that destroyed everything in its path.
She knew they frequented her house and she knew of their work, and how her father hired them to do his bidding. One could never succeed in Karachi without getting his hands dirty.
The girl simply failed to understand her father’s intention behind his decision, Rehman's gang already provided him with the best of their services (for which they were fairly compensated). Nor did she understand why the Baloch brothers agreed for the union, there was nothing that they couldn’t have, and if their goal was to coerce her father for more money or land, they could very well manage it on their own, they had enough power.
The entire ordeal left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She didn’t know why he had agreed in the first place? She had no choice, no say in the matter, but he did. She was just a pawn in their games, but he was a king, he could do anything he wanted and no one would bat an eye.
She sunk into the couch, shrinking herself as much as she could. She had stopped listening a while ago, drowning out the sound of her father’s voice as her thoughts ran a mile a minute and her fingers tugged on her dupatta in a desperate attempt to ground herself.
It was suffocating and could feel his eyes on her, she refused to look up, practising what little power that she held.
“Baccho ko akele baat karne de?” Her eyes snapped to Ulfat Baloch, the woman’s gentle smile held equal amounts of sympathy and understanding. It was the first time that someone had even thought to consider her opinion, Ulfat didn’t look at Rehman or her father when she voiced her thought, her fierce eyes settled on Mira.
It was as though she was the only one in the room who acknowledged Mira’s quiet presence, who even remotely seemed to value her opinion. Her eyes stung, but she bit her cheek and nodded slowly as she met her father’s hardened eyes. Of course he didn’t want to leave them alone, his knew his daughter and her sharp tongue, he didn’t want anyone ruining his plans.
It was the first time she had met the woman who held the key to Rehman’s heart, and something didn't add up, she radiated warmth and grace as opposed to her husband, whose every move was cold, lethal and calculated.
Soon, the elders cleared out of the room leaving her and Uzair in deafening silence. He was toying with a glass of whiskey. He cleared his throat and she braced herself, her fingers once again fidgeting with the edge of her dupatta.
“Aap ko manzoor hai ye rishta?”
She almost laughed in his face, the sheer audacity of the man, as if he wasn’t sitting in this very room when her father had announced it.
“Mere abbu ko manzoor hai. That’s what matters.” She reminded him, and if he heard her voice crack, he didn’t say anything. It was his turn to look away, he was well versed with how her father operated.
“Aap mujhse kuch puchna nahi chahti?” He couldn’t take the silence that had settled between them.
“Kyun? Aapko mujhse aur kuch puchna hai kya?” She snapped at him.
It was new for him to not know what to say. He was always ready with witty comebacks or a snide comment. He had never been the one to walk on eggshells, but this was new and he didn’t know how to navigate through it.
“For what it matters, you can do whatever you want after we get married,” he spoke softly after a moment had passed, the concern lacing his tone was evident, it was something he never thought he was capable of. “I heard you were studying and I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”
How generous, she scoffed to herself, but even so, relief coursed through her veins at that. It was the least he could do for her, and even though she did her best to hide it, his eyes spotted how her shoulders slumped and her fingers stopped fidgeting.
“And what about you?” The words slipped out of her lips before she could think. “What about your work?”
“That’s the last thing you have to worry about.” He answered in an instant, and she took a note of how he tensed at that.
She knew that was impossible, and a helpless shiver ran down her spine, she was once again painfully reminded of his world that revolved around blood, carnage and violence. He was a warlord and his hands would always be covered in blood no matter how many times he’d wash them and she didn’t know how to live with that, the violence that clung to him like a shadow, that followed him everywhere like a devoted lover.
The pain behind her eyes seemed to worsen, travelling to her temples.
“I’m going to my room.” She informed him, suddenly getting on her feet. “Abbu puche toh unhe bata dena, I have a headache.”
—
The date was set, her father had decided it, of course.
A few days later Ulfat showed up again, seeking out the younger girl and taking her shopping. It was all an excuse to get to know her of course, Ulfat knew the girl didn’t have a mother, and wanted to make the transition for her as smooth as possible, given the circumstances. Besides, every girl had the right to enjoy her wedding, and if Ulfat had to drag her out of her father’s house just to see her smile for a while, then so be it.
“How have you been?” She laid a soft hand on her shoulder, her tone laced with understanding, and Mira realized that Ulfat was the only one who could even try to comprehend the torrential storm of emotions brewing inside her.
She appreciated the older woman for it. It had been a long time since someone had thought for her, and of her well-being, whereas her father had other, better priorities that needed attending. He had left the very next day whatever new business he had occupied himself with.
“I’m okay,” Mira admitted with a reluctant sigh. “It's just, I don’t know, baji, sab kuch itna jaldi ho gaya.”
Ulfat offered quiet comfort, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Ab ye sab baatein chodo, we’ll enjoy ourselves today. It’s been a while since I went shopping, and you need to get out of your room.”
The two of them spent the whole day switching between shops and malls, trying to find the perfect match of fabrics and dyes.
She learned a lot about Ulfat that day and how her world consisted of her two boys (she would’ve never guessed that Rehman was the family type), how the two of them had taken in a young Uzair when his parents had passed away, how she liked her tea a certain way and promised to make some for her, how Naeem and Faisal, her two boys found a way to conjure up chaos in the house. She smiled at that, she had always felt the quiet loneliness of being an only child, at least their house wasn’t plagued by silence that could wound a soul.
Ulfat also shared some stories from when she and Rehman got married but Mira could not fathom the man being domestic in any way whatsoever, she made it seem as if he was completely and wholly at her mercy.
Despite the darkness in her husband’s life, Ulfat shined brighter than ever, she seemed the perfect epitome of glowing kindness and warmth that seemed to envelop Mira in a comforting embrace. She had gone above and beyond to make her feel comfortable and welcome, reassuring her and chasing her worries away with a maternal warmth that Mira had never experienced before.
Before they knew it, the day came to an end. They had rummaged through thousands of fabrics and myriad shops that Mira never even knew existed. To say that she was exhausted was an understatement, her feet ached, and her hands were tired from lugging around the bags.
“I can’t thank you–” Mira began, reaching for her hand. The two of them had certainly gone over the top, one must’ve thought they bought all of Karachi.
“Shh, we’re almost family now,” Ulfat smiled, gently tucking a strand of Mira's hair behind her ear. She ignored how her stomach churned painfully at that. Family.
“Let’s go, Uzair must be waiting outside.”
Mira froze for a second before gaining her footing. “What?”
“He’s driving us home,” Ulfat explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, grabbing Mira's cold hand. “Chalo.”
She spotted his tall frame standing outside the mall, he was smoking a cigarette leaning on the side of the black jeep. A fresh wave of anxiety washed over her, everything was getting too real, the shiny fabrics and time spent away from home could only distract her for so long. Every time she remembered who he was, the pit in her stomach worsened and the fear left her paralyzed. She couldn’t sleep.
It wasn’t just his broad physique, but his presence was loud and insanely overwhelming, suffocating, something Mira wasn’t sure how to digest.
When he saw them, he took long strides to reach them, effectively taking the shopping bags off their hands. And fingers brushed against hers, she ignored it.
The car ride home was silent. They didn’t talk a lot, much to Ulfat’s dismay, Mira even dozed off on her shoulder for sometime, tired from walking around all day.
When they finally reached the Baloch residence, Mira decided to thank her once again before taking her leave, but Ulfat insisted Mira stay for dinner, and she paled at that, the thought of spending more time in the house where the two of the most feared men of Karachi lived made her chest throb. She felt like she was willingly walking into the lion’s den.
“Baji, aap kyun takleef le rahi hai,” Mira started in an attempt to convince her otherwise, but Ulfat remained adamant.
“Arey,” it was Rehman that spoke this time, making his way to the verandah, his voice impossibly considerate, something Mira couldn’t imagine. “Isme takleef kaisi, beta, aur waise bhi Rasheed sahab toh bahar gaye hai na?”
“Aa jao, chalo.” That was the final nail to the coffin, his words were final, and Mira had no say in the matter as Ulfat once again dragged her inside.
Their haveli was gigantic, tucked into a silent corner away from the chaotic streets of Lyari, spanning across multiple acres, with wide balconies and ceilings that stretched to the skies. It was well-lived in, and had a calm, tender, homey feeling to it, even with all the skeletons buried in their closets. In a way it was extremely grounding.
The dinner was anything but quiet, with Naeem and Faisal loudly complaining about their day at school, and being excited that someone new had joined them today. They began telling her stories about Uzair, most of them made her second guess if he was the same man that the streets of Karachi feared. Mira in response, shared some of her funny stories from when she was young.
Uzair helped her clean the table afterwards when Ulfat had gone to put the kids to bed, the two of them working with practised ease as if they had been doing it since ages. Mira once again chose to ignore the warmth in her chest.
“Uzair,” Rehman nodded at him, lighting a cigarette. “Bacchi ko ghar chod ke aa, it’s late.”
Ulfat bid Mira goodbye with a gentle, affectionate hug that felt dangerously warm, she didn’t want to let go.
The two of them were alone and once again, the silence was a pinching reminder of her cruel, impending fate.
“Did you enjoy yourself today?” Uzair asked, he hoped she wouldn’t notice the way his fingers tapped on the steering nervously, glancing her way from the driver’s seat.
She nodded and hummed in agreement. He was putting some effort, making small talk, the least she could do was reciprocate, and respond to his amateur attempts to get a conversation going.
“Yeah, it was nice getting out of the house.”
“How was your day?” She shut her eyes as soon as the words left her lips, mentally cursing herself. Who even talks like that?
He bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating his next words, though he wasn’t sure if she’d like anything he had to say about his work. He noticed the way she tensed up whenever they were alone, how her fingers nervously played with the edge of her dupatta. It was clear as day that she was apprehensive of him, and he didn’t blame her for it, any sane person would be.
She looked over at him only to find his knuckles gripping the steering in a death grip, and she chided herself.
“It was okay,” he finally replied, his fingers drumming along the steering. “Bhabhi ne bataya unko aaj maza aaya.”
She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or concerned about his lack of response even though she had seen the deflection coming from a mile away.
“Yeah,” she smiled, remembering the day she had, and spared a dismissive glance at the numerous bags that sat in the back. “Unhe toh aur bhi shopping karni thi, unka bas chale toh pura Karachi khareed leti.”
That fetched a small laugh from him. “Of course.”
The air between them had started to feel familiar, it felt easier to talk.
“So, tell me, did you really hit the ball in your team’s goalpost?”
He groaned in annoyance. “It was one time!”
“That’s not what I heard.” She teased, surprising herself.
“Don’t listen to everything Naeem says, he exaggerates a lot.”
She laughed at that. It was nice, for a moment she was able to forget that was a lethal killing machine, for a moment was able to pretend that he was simply a guy who played football with his nephew, that was much easier for her to accept than the reality.
When the car finally pulled into her driveway, he hurried to her side, opening the door before she could reach for the handle, he carried her bags and everything before following her inside.
He scribbled his number on a random piece of paper before handing it to her, it was for emergencies, he had told her. The reality struck her like a physical blow when realised what he meant by emergencies.
She wasn’t just inheriting the Baloch name with the marriage but also their enemies, his enemies, and he was worried for her, despite her house being in one of the most expensive areas of Karachi, he still didn’t want to take any chances.
She couldn’t sleep that night either.
me as i’m 5k words into a fic i never thought i’d write
mira realising she’s getting married to uzair
also her approaching every situation w the anxiety of an animal being hunted for sport
a/n: i don’t usually do taglists, but lmk if you guys wanna do that ?? i’m used to posting to the void 😭 i also cannot go w/o making memes which you gusy alr saw
this fic is supposed to be slowburn if i pace it right and most of it will be pre dhurandhar, though i’m not yet sure if i will write cannon events into this but i do want to include some scenes from the movie, so we’ll see. i suck at planning. also the title is just a random ao3 tag lmfaoo i couldn’t think of anything else but i think it fits. for the time being my inbox is always open, but please bear w/me as i’m a full time student and i might not always be quick to respond.
also spent the whole weekend catching up pre reads so this was supposed to be posted on friday but here we are,,, happy monday i guess. i also dk if this is an uzair fic or ulfat fic bc LMFAOOOO ulfat bbg <33 i guess this is also a diff perspective than most bc i know all of them are hot as fuck but if i ever saw them irl i would RUN AWAY !! but mira my baby does not have that option so she’s doing her best ok. give her some credit.
you’d think the way i’m obsessed w akshaye i would write abt him but this idea was plaguing my mind ok
also if any of you are into jujutsu kaisen, cod, one piece, dr who (or superwholock) and ofc formula one, etc etc hello hi !! you can find some of my works in my masterlist and i’m also working on a one piece fic which is going to be so fucking long ohmygof but yeah !!
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