#fleurewrites

warning: angst, hurt.

Part II

Playlist to listen to while reading!

You're growing tired of me You love me so hard and I still can't sleep You're growing tired of me And all the things I don't talk about

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧: Is it you or Is it her? Only time will tell.

Chand-e-Ulfat; that’s what she was. Beloved moon. Skin pale as the first snow of winter, hair long and dark rich brown, a smile that would pierce right through hearts. She carried herself with a certain grace, her walk swan-like. God took his time creating her, and it showed. Ulfat first met Rehman when he visited her father’s house for a dinner to discuss territory matters. She was graceful, elegant, perfect, and he was hooked. He didn’t want to admit it, he had no business feeling this way, he was too adamant to allow himself to feel. But obviously, there was a difference, a difference only his best friend, would come to notice with time.

The first time you noticed something was one evening, You and Rehman sat in your bedroom, you sat comfortably on your bed, one leg folded up, while he sat on the floor, back pressed to the bed, almost as if he was beneath your feet. "Toh main keh rahi thi, abbu se kehke main 4 din ke liye khala ke ghar jaungi rehne-" (So I was saying, I’ll talk to abbu and go stay at khala’s place for four days-) you turned your head to him, he wasn’t listening.

“Reh? Rehman” no response. Smack “Rehman!” “hA HA- haa bolo kya?” (hA HA- what did you say? say it again?) You quirked an eyebrow, something was up. “Tum sun bhi rahe the ke nahi?” (Were you even listening or not?) He sighed “bilkul sun raha tha, tumhari khala yaha 4 din rehne aarahi hai” (I was listening perfectly, your khala is coming here to stay for four days.) You gave him a deadpan expression.

“Kuch toh baat hai” (There’s something going on.) you narrowed your eyes at him, he dismissed you— “Bewakoof baatein karna band kardo Y/N, umar se toh hogayi ho par ab akal se bhi badi hojao.” (Stop saying foolish things, Y/N. You’ve grown up in age—now grow up in sense too.) abruptly getting up and leaving your room. “Arey!?” (Hey!?) Leaving you dumbfounded.

The second time, you sat in your living room with a book, a very boring one at that, so you decided what better way to get rid of your boredom than to mess with your bestfriend. You giddily made your way to your father’s warehouse, where you knew rehman would be. You skipped and hopped till you reached the entrance, and just as you were about to yell out to him, you saw it.

Way across the room, a woman, talking to him, her back towards you, luscious long locks, she was dressed in a lilac kurta, and he? he was smiling, smiling in a way you had never really seen before, which made your smile drop. A deep pit began forming in your stomach, something didn’t feel right, but you maintained your distance, continuing to watch them interact from afar, who was she? why was he acting all fidgety while he’s talking to her?

He said something, she laughed, he watched her laugh, she sneezed, thrice in a row, and pointed at the rose in his front chest pocket, he looked at the rose, and without thinking twice, discarded it from his pocket and threw it to the ground.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, why, why would he do that? She turned around to walk away, he was right on her tail, when they both spotted you. She approached you, her usual genuine smile on her perfect face. “Ulfat ji, inse miliye, ye Y/N, aamir sahab ki beti” (Ulfat ji, meet her, this is Y/N, Aamir Sahab’s daughter.) he stood behind her, introducing you to her. “Y/N ye Rizvi sahab ki beti, Ulfat ji” (Y/N, this is Rizvi Sahab’s daughter, Ulfat ji.)

“Assalam wailakum” She spoke, smiling at you with her voice softer than anything you’ve ever heard. “Walaikum assalam” you greeted back, your demeanour guarded. Before you could speak to her any further, Rehman interrupted you. “Y/N agar aamir sahab puchein ke main kaha hu, toh kehdena unse ke main Ulfat Ji ko ghar chhod kar jald hi wapis aaunga” (Y/N, if Aamir Sahab asks where I am, then tell him that I’ve gone to drop Ulfat ji home and will be back soon.)

Again, you opened your mouth to speak but this time you were interrupted by her. “Uski koi zarurat nahi ha Rehman Ji, main khud chali jaungi ghar aap kyu takleef-" (There’s no need for that, Rehman ji, I’ll go home myself—why should you trouble-) “isme kaisi takleef?” (What trouble is there in this?) He smirked, she blushed, and the pair walked right past you, her shoulder bumping into yours in the process. You were left blank.

The only thing you kept staring at was the rose he threw on the floor, torn, crumpled to death when she walked right all over it. You walked towards it, bending down and gently picking it up; this was not sitting right with you at all. Your mouth fell into a frown, lips quivering as a single tear drop escaped your eye. You put the crumpled rose into your pocket and stood up, wiping your cheeks.

“Y/N??” Suddenly, a familiar voice called out to you, you turned around, only to see Uzair standing across the room, smiling. “Uzair?! Tum kab aaye?” (Uzair?! When did you come?) You jogged to him, he stood there with open arms waiting for you, and you hugged him. Chuckling, he replied, “Bass aaj subah hi aaya tha, socha ab, Rehman Bhai ke kaam mein maine bhi haath badhana shuru kar dena chahiye.” (I just came this morning, thought that now, I should also start helping Rehman Bhai with his work.)

He slowly let go from the hug, his hands still holding your forearms. “Accha hua tum aagaye, ab tumhari zyada yaad bhi nahi aayegi” (Good that you came, now I won’t miss you as much.) You joked, a playful expression on your face as you did. “Accha? Tumhein meri yaad bhi aati thi? Mujhe toh laga tum din bhar Rehman bhai ke sath rehti ho; mujhe yaad karne ke liye waqt hi kaha milta hoga” (Really? You used to miss me too? I thought you spent all day with Rehman Bhai; when would you even get time to remember me?)

He smirked, being able to banter right back with you, but his face slipped slightly when he saw you didn’t retaliate with your usual witty words.

“Kya hua? Koi dikkat hui hai?” (What happened? Is there some problem?) He asked, you quickly composed yourself and fixed your face with a smile, nodding no. “Kuch nahi kuch nahi, woh sab rehne do ab tum chalo, ghar chalo main ammi se kehkar tumhare liye mutton biryani banwati hu.” (Nothing, nothing, let all that be. Now you go, let’s go home—I’ll ask ammi to make mutton biryani for you.)

You avoided his concern by linking your arm in his and pulling him away with you. “Unhe kyu pareshan karna? Tum hi banado” (Why trouble her? You make it yourself.) a smug smile played on his face as he followed along with your shenanigans.

At home, you beelined to the kitchen, began making your dish, it was obviously going to take a few hours, which went fleeting by with Uzair’s delightful company. He was always like this, sweet, caring, gentle. Sure you were best friends with his older brother, but there was a stark difference with how you felt when you were with each of them individually. With Rehman, things were, exciting, there was a certain understanding between the two of you, an electric air that connected the two of you;

But with Uzair, you were more relaxed, you felt younger than you were because of him, you let your playful manner outpour more often. He made sure he helped you in the kitchen while you prepared the biryani, you insisted that he was a guest and he should just relax on the sofa instead, but he argued, saying how being in the kitchen with you would be better use of his time than moseying around.

Giggles and laughter echoed in the house as you finished up with making the biryani, it was almost 7pm when your father and Rehman came back to the house. “Arey wahh ye mehek toh humare Y/N ke haath ke khaane ki hai, aaj humein shaayad biryani khane ka mauka mila hai” (Wow, this aroma is from our Y/N’s cooking, maybe today I finally get the chance to eat biryani.) Your father roared from the living room, you smiled knowingly, and rushed out of the kitchen to greet him.

“Abbuuu” engulfing him in a hug. He chuckled and hugged you back, it was almost a routine for you, this is how you greeted him. Breaking away you noticed Rehman standing behind him, expressionless. “Aap dono haath mu dholo, main khana parosne aa hi rai hu.” (You both go wash your hands, I’m coming to serve the food.) You spoke, eyes flickering between your father and him. Your father walked away, leaving Rehman following you into the kitchen. You were still slightly upset with him about today afternoon so you decided to be a bit cold towards him.

“Maine kaha haath mu dholo. Mere peeche aane ki kya zarurat?” (I said wash your hands. Why follow me?) You snarked at him, your back towards him as you continued to walk away. “Kyu? Ab main meri Y/N ke peeche nahi aasakta?” (Why? Now I can’t follow my Y/N?) your heart skipped a beat. your coldness faltering a bit. You whipped your body around, stopping dead in your tracks. “Nahi. Mujhe toh laga tum bass unn Ulfat Ji ke peeche jaate ho?” (No. I thought you only go after that Ulfat Ji?)

Another snarky remark, though this one you didn’t mean to slip out. He quirked a brow at that, his lips slightly upturning at the corner as he began walking towards you, pushing forward without even touching you, till your back hit the wall. “Oh? Toh yeh dikkat hai…meri Y/N gussa hai?” (Oh? So this is the problem… is my Y/N angry?) A few inches space between the two of you. Your face furious, annoyed with him, how his stupid face looked stupidly cute when he was stupidly smiling with that stupid fucking ulfat- Wait what? Stupidly cute? What were you even thinking.

“Arey Rehman bhai, aap bhi aagaye!?” (Hey Rehman Bhai, you came too!?) You were interrupted by a very enthusiastic Uzair who stepped out of the kitchen. You shoved Rehman “Hatto” (Get lost) out of the way with a grunt, pushing him harshly and stomping back into the kitchen. Both brothers flabbergasted as they watched you marching away. At the dinner table, you decided you were going to sit beside Uzair, your mother and father at opposite ends at the head of the table, meanwhile Rehman sat across.

You began serving up plates, making sure you approached Rehman last, continuing with your cold act. But when you finally did approach him, he denied. “Nahi main-“ (No, I’m—) “Kya? Tumhein toh mere haath ka khana pasand hai na?” (What? You like the food I make, don’t you?) You furrowed your brows, confused as to why in the world would Rehman of all people deny your food. “Main woh, Ulfat ji ke sath bahar khaana khaa kar aaya hu..” (I… I went out and ate with Ulfat ji..) he said, voice plain and final. “Oh..” your heart dropped again, he ate out with her? they were together for that long? what did they even eat? does she know he can’t eat anything too spicy?

“Rehman bas chakh ke toh dekho? Maine mehnat se banayi hai..” (Rehman, just taste it, won’t you? I made it with effort..) you tried, god did you try. “Y/N maine kaha na, mujhe nahi chahiye.” (Y/N, I told you, I don’t want it.) His voice a bit more stern this time around, making you a step back, hurt quickly flashing across your face which he did notice, thought maybe he misspoke, but was too stubborn to say anything else.

“Theek.” (Fine) You sat in your chair. Everyone dived right into the food, complimenting your biryani, Uzair joking how it tasted better this time around because he lent a helping hand. But honestly none of those compliments seemed like they mattered in the moment, when the one who you really wanted to hear from, just sat across from you, casually sipping water. You just kept your head down, shifting rice grains here and there in the plate with your spoon.

You didn’t eat properly that night, his behaviour towards you made everything indigestible.

After dinner was wrapped up, you decided to not speak to him at all, you needed space, desperately. So you dragged Uzair with you, again, to the open rooftop of your house, deciding you wanted to clear your head while you looked at the twinkling stars in the night sky. You and Uzair laid on the spread out mattress on the floor while you gazed up.

“Tum mujhse kuch chhupa rahi ho, itna toh mujhe pata hai Y/N; par main tum par zabardasti nahi karunga, bass…” (You’re hiding something from me, I know that much, Y/N; but I won’t force you, just…) a beat “bass ye jaano Y/N, main tumhare liye yaha hu, tumhari har baat sunne ke liye taiyyar, tumhein ghanto tak baat karni hogi…tab bhi.” (just know this, Y/N, I’m here for you, ready to listen to everything you have to say—even if you want to talk for hours… still.) he slowly turned his head to the side, facing you, you were already looking at him in awe. You both smiled, and turned your head back to gaze up at the stars.

“Tum, uss Ulfat ko jaante ho?” (Do you know that Ulfat?) You asked him. “Ulfat? Ulfat Rizvi?” You hummed in agreement. “Haa, matlab, aise acchi mulaaqat nahi hui humari kabhi, par woh kaun hai ye jaanta toh hu.” (Yes, I mean, we never really had a proper meeting, but I do know who she is.) He replied. “Kyu? Tum kyu Ulfat ke baare mein puch rahi ho?” (Why? Why are you asking about Ulfat?)

“Aaj woh aayi thi, abbu ke godown mein…shayad kuch kaam se? Abbu uske waalid ko jaante hai, toh kaam ki hi baat hogi” (She came today, to abbu’s godown… maybe for some work? Abbu knows her father, so it must be about work.) you shrugged. “Haa par, tumhari dikkat uss baat se toh nahi, ye kuch aur maamla hai.” (Yes, but your problem isn’t with that, this is some other matter.)

He knew what you were onto, poking a bit more at the topic. You let out a sigh and replied, “Kuch nahi bass, badi khoobsurat dikhti hai woh, haina?” (Nothing, just… she looks really beautiful, doesn’t she?) “Woh toh hai- mashallah kya banaya hai khuda ne, jaise chaand hi zameen par utar aaya ho. Itni gori hai woh, mohalle ke ladke usse gori mem ke naam se jaante hai.” (She is—Mashallah, what has God made, as if the moon itself has descended on Earth. She’s so fair that the boys in the neighborhood know her by the name gori mem.)

You let out another sigh, annoyed now, and rolled your eyes; he noticed. “Kya?” (What?) “Nahi bass, Rehman aaj din bhar usi ke saath tha” (No, it’s just… Rehman was with her all day today.) the realisation struck him like a truck. “Achhaaa, toh bhai woh Ulfat ki baat kar rahe the jab unhone kaha ke woh baahar se khaakar aaye hai” (Ohh, so bhai was talking about that Ulfat when he said that he came after eating outside.)

you wordlessly nodded. “Achhi baat hai, Rehman bhai kaam ke alawa bhi aur cheezein karte hai, ghumne jaate hai woh bhi kisi ladki ke sath” (That’s good, Rehman Bhai does other things besides work, he even goes out with a girl.) he laughed towards the end, meanwhile you grew annoyed “Rehman mere sath bhi ghumta hai!? Main bhi toh ladki hi hu na??” (Rehman goes out with me too!? I’m a girl too, aren’t I??)

To that, Uzair let out the most incredulous laugh, like he thought you were kidding. You sat upright and smacked his biceps, while he continued to laugh and clutching at his stomach. “Tum? Ladki??!” (You? A girl??!) He burst into laughter again, making you even more annoyed. “Chup karo Uzair main bata rahi hu khuda kasam zinda nahi chhodungi main tumhe.” (Shut up, Uzair, I’m telling you—by God, I won’t let you live.)

He slowly curbed his laughter, and sat upright. “Maaf karna Y/N lekin, tum kabhi uss qism ki ladki thi hi nahi, sajne sawarne waali, Yeh kehna asaan nahi, magar tum kabhi woh ladki nahi rahi jiske saamne hum ghabra jaate. Tum hamesha humare beech rahi ho, humari tarah.” (Forgive me, Y/N, but you were never that kind of girl—the kind who dresses up and adorns herself. This isn’t easy to say, but you were never the girl we felt nervous around. You were always just among us, like one of us.)

You took his words in, and slowly nodded in understanding. You laid back down, and let yourself wonder; if this is how everyone thought about you, did nobody ever take you seriously? Your mind wandering back to the memories of afternoon, she did look beautiful, feminine; and he fit perfectly besides her, rough, masculine. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also just nice, nice to you, you really shouldnt've felt this way towards her, but you did.

They did look good together, that was a fact, doesn’t mean it didn’t burn any less. Meanwhile, in the backyard, Rehman took a drag of his cigarette while he walked amongst the flowers that you planted. Fingertips slowly grazing the roses, in the moment he should have thought about you, the roses should have reminded him of you; but they didn’t. Instead he thought of her, and how she sneezed when she accidentally got too close to the flower in his pocket, later telling him how she was allergic to roses, which made him throw the rose to the ground.

He made a mental note to himself; maybe he should stop wearing a rose all the time if he was going to see her more often from now.

A/N: Helloooo lovely readers!!! I hope you guys are doing well and hopefully you liked reading this chapter. I know this one was a bit more Uzair focused one, but trust me there's a reason for it ;) sorry if there's any typos pls just ignore them. Let me know if you have any criticism for me and let me know what you thought of the chapter in the comments!!! New chapters will be out every Tuesday. Love u miss u guys kisses for u alllll!!!!!!!

warning: mature themes, death, angst.

Part I

Playlist to listen to while reading!

Our love is six feet under I can't help but wonder If our grave was watered by the rain Would roses bloom?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧: Is it you or Is it her? Only time will tell.

They say that childhood friendships often end, the ups and downs of life puts relationships to the test, and not all of them last; well, ofcourse there are the exceptions. That was what it was, an exception, the relationship between you and Rehman. A friendship unlike any others in your life, in more ways than one.

You were the anchor to his ship in a stormy sea, two opposite sides of the coin, yet a coin still the same. You were merely 13 years of age when you first met him, standing behind your mom, tiny fingers clutching her duppata as you glanced shyly over his side, there he stood; a boy.

He looked around the same age you, wore a plain kurta, and had a silver kada in his hand, he stood with his hands clasped together at his back, standing behind his mother like he was her bodyguard, a sure set gaze, determined, confident. “Rehman, yaha aao bete.” (Rehman, come here, son.) His mother nudged him forward, pointing at you she spoke- “Aao, inse milo, ye Y/N hai, Aamir Sahab ki beti, jao khelo inke sath, humein thoda aur waqt lagega.” (Come, meet her, this is Y/N, Aamir Sahab’s daughter. Go play with her, we’ll take a little more time.) Your parents mingled with each other, and left you to interact with him.

A set of bare feet across the floor, padding out to the backyard where you took him to show your garden. He kept to himself for the most part, spoke very minimally if at all. You were shy at first, but when you began showing him all the flowers in your garden that you grew with your own hard work, excitement laced your words as you spoke to him, he listened. He actually even enjoyed it. The way you fawned over the Roses- your favourite, how your father had a pond made just for you, so you could grow your flowers-

The White Lotus, in your own backyard. In a way you represented that flower, you weren’t aware of it yet due to the fact that you were a child, but crime ran through your families, ties and bounds, relationships and authorities, laced with the soft smell of gunpowder and blood. You grew from the mud, but you were so beautiful, so serene and unbreakable. Somewhere along the way, Rehman saw that. You were different, you were bubbly, spoke before you thought, you weren’t afraid to goof around, infact, it was a charm of yours.

That day was the kind that you’d remember for a long time, as he was leaving, you called after him, running towards him “Rehmannn!!!” He turned back, eyebrows furrowed. Heaving, trying to catch your breath, you extended your hand forward, a Rose, plucked straight from your garden; “Ye- tumhare liye- aaj se humari” (This- for you- from today our-) he took the rose from you “-dosti pakki” (-friendship's sealed) Your eyes crinkling up in crescent moons as you smiled widely at him. He blushed slightly, and smiled right back as he tucked the rose in the chest pocket of his kurta.

Ever since that day, he always had a little red rose tucked in his pocket, he’d never admit it, but it was for you. Whenever you’d meet him and notice the rose, he liked the way your face lit up and how you pointed at it. Your kinship grew day by day, being around him meant that you could say anything you wanted, and you’d always have an audience. He slowly began trusting you, giving his input, speaking more and more day by day. He used to play football, loved the game so much that he himself took initiative to teach you how to play it, so you could play together.

You often hung out together, sharing ice lollies in the harsh summers of Lyari, you even became accustomed with his extended family, where you met his cousin baby brother Uzair. Both of you became so familiar with each other like two peas in a pod, you trusted him with your life, told every little secret that your heart had been keeping in, and he reciprocated that trust right back, never breaking it.

He felt protective of you, like he needed to be there for you, and be your best friend. Just like that, a year went by, seasons shifted, he had become your best friend, and you were his. Life seemed perfect, peaceful; almost too peaceful like how the air feels before a hurricane, and unfortunately that’s what happened.

One thunderous night, you were in the living room sofa, after your parents had clocked out for the night, returning to their room, while you laid there reading a book, rain heavily pattering on your closed windows, when all of a sudden you heard loud knocks on your door. You jolted upright, setting the book aside and turning to the door. Who could be out there at this hour? It was way past midnight. You walked towards the door “Kaun?” (Who?) pressing your ear right to it. “Y/N?”

Rehman’s voice? At this hour? You whipped the door open, and there he stood; soaked in rain, shivering like a leaf in the wind; but something else caught your eye as well, he wasn’t just drenched wet with rain, but there was also, blood. You didn’t waste another second, and pulled him in by his shoulder, closing the door behind you. “Ye kya haal banaya hai tumne apna Rehman?? Ye- tum theek toh ho na? Ye khoon-?!” (What have you done to yourself, Rehman?? You- you’re alright, aren’t you? This blood-?!)

You began frantically checking him, looking for any open wounds or injuries that could cause him to be this soaked in blood, but your feet went cold when you noticed, he had no injuries; this wasn’t his blood. “Y/N- ye khoon mera nahi hai.” (Y/N- this blood isn’t mine.)

“Rehman…” you were stunned, what was he saying? You quickly pulled him by the hand to the living room, making him sit on the carpeted floor. You walked away from him, fetching a couple of things for him; a spare towel, a warm glass of milk, and a borrowed your father’s clothes, a fresh set for him to change into. You returned back to him, handing him the clothes first. He understood, and took the clothes from you, heading to your bathroom to change.

You meanwhile sat there- head in your hands, what in the world was going on? He returned, the kurta a bit oversized on him, hair still damp. He sat down on the floor besides you, you handed him the glass of milk, watched as he took a sip and set it down. You took the towel in your hands and began drying his hair— the action being kinder to him than anyone ever was. “Ab kuch bataoge bhi?” (Now, will you tell me anything?) You asked him, voice dripping in concern.

“Ye khoon- humari ammi ka hai…” (This blood- is my mother’s…) Your hands stopped dead in their tracks, towel dropping from your hand to the side. “Rehman..?” You hesitantly spoke, voice low and breathy. “m- mujhe pata chala ke main apne marhoom walid ki najayaz au-aulad hu…” (I- I found out that I am the illegitimate child of my late father…) Lighting crashed outside as he uttered those words. You looked in his eyes, deeply- they were bloodshot red;

“Rehman- tum…kya kar baithe ho..?” (Rehman- you… what have you done..?) Your voice trembled as you asked him a question. “Qatl…” (Murder…) Your body went stiff, the floor beneath your feet had been swept away. Your ears began ringing and your vision went white, you only stared blankly at him.

“Tumhein lagta hai main ne ye aasani se kiya? Saari umr us aurat ne mujhe jhoot par paala” (Do you think I did this easily? That woman raised me on a lie all my life) his voice cracked, he was emotional, angry. “Humein koi afsos nahi horaha hai Y/N. Humne humari ammi ko nahi maara, uss jhoot ko khatam kiya jismein humari poori zindagi dafan thi.” (I feel no regret, Y/N. I didn’t kill my mother, I ended the lie in which my entire life was buried.)

His head hung low, still trembling as he finished speaking. “Rehman…” your body acted before your mind decided what to do, as you leaned forward and pulled him in a hug. Tears fell from his tightly closed eyes as he hugged you, arms clutching your back, you didn’t know if this was right- all you knew is he needed you in this moment, he needed someone. Your best friend had just admitted to killing his own mother, your head was spinning, but you felt grounded when you tried to comfort him.

You let him spend the night on your couch, decided that when morning comes, the first thing you’ll do is ask your parents for help. And that’s how it went- your parents came downstairs a few hours after dawn, to see Rehman curled up on the couch, hugging himself tightly for any sense of comfort. When he woke up, your parents sat down for a discussion with him, while you watched from the side. Rehman was truthful, honest about what went down last night and spoke clearly to your parents, your mother stood horrified at the news, while your father tried to process all of it.

He took one look at Rehman, and saw a 14 year old boy in severe need of help. “Aajse tum yahi rahoge Rehman. Tumhein yaha rehne ke liye ghar, aur teen waqt ki roti milegi” (From today, you will stay here, Rehman. You’ll be given a home to live in, and food three times a day.) Rehman’s eyes slightly lit up. “Magar badle mein tum, humein humare kaamo mein madat karoge” (But in return, you will help me with my work.) Your father saw an opportunity, he saw Rehman’s ruthlessness, and thought if he only treated him right, he could mentor him, hone his abilities and use him for his dirty work, his crimes.

And that’s how you and Rehman became even closer than before, life had brought you to this point, years passed by as you spent almost every day around him, both becoming inseparable. As he grew up around your father, helping him as he had promised, he became integrated into the criminal world, entwined in the underground workings of Lyari, slowly but surely, rising to power. Although that didn’t mean he disregarded you; sure life had gotten busier for both of you, but ultimately at the end of the day, you returned to seek each other’s solace. He still, always kept a rose in his pocket, always just for you.

The night that you turned 21 was a magical one, Rehman had been missing all day, while your entire family and the loved ones around you were celebrating your birthday. You were happy, sure, but how happy could you be without having him around, especially today? He never missed any of your birthdays, then why was he nowhere to be found today? After having dinner you sat upstairs in your room, sulking on your bed, the clock ticking, showing 11:45 PM, only 15 minutes until your birthday was over. You dropped your head into your sheets and groaned, tears almost threatening to fall. Until you heard taps on your window.

You quickly sat up, turning your head around to see him, smiling stupidly as he waved and asked for you to open the window. You wiped a stray tear away, nodding no. His heart sunk when he saw you wipe your tears, he pleaded, and showed you the box in his hand, wrapped in a shiny red wrapping paper. Curiosity got the best of you and you opened your window for him, watching as he climbed in and plopped down on your bed. “Maafi, laakh laakh maafi meri jaan, tumhare pair chhoo ta hun mujhe maaf kardo” (Sorry, a million times sorry, my love, I'll touch your feet, please forgive me.) He spoke, panicky, as he tried to console you, his palm snaking behind your head as he pulled you in and kissed your forehead.

You shoved him away, smacking his chest. “Kaha mar rahe the pura din?! Aajki hi shaam mili thi tumhein gumshuda hone ke liye??” (Where were you dying all day?! Was it only this evening that you decided to go missing??) He clutched his chest and feigned hurt, chuckling at your annoyance with him. “Main keh toh raha hu na, bohot badi galati hogayi mujhse, ho sake toh maaf kardo” (I’m saying it, I made a huge mistake, please, if you can, forgive me.) he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and he brought the box ahead, placing it infront of you.

“Tumhein kya laga main aise hi din bhar gayab tha, bina koi wajah ke? Tumhare liye taufa le raha tha- kuch hi din pehele lene waala tha lekin, khuda qasam tumhare abbu ne mujhe kaam mein dafna kar rakh diya tha.” (Did you think I was gone all day for no reason? I was getting a gift for you- I was going to buy it a few days earlier but, I swear to God, your abbu buried me in work.)

You pouted, sneering at him till you picked up the box, and began unraveling it. His eyes watched your face carefully, bated breath as he waited for your reaction. You lifted the cardboard lid, and saw your gift. A pair of juttis, and not just any regular ones, these were laced with gold strings and had rose embroidery in them. Your eyes lit up and your mouth went ajar, you had set your eyes on these exact pair a few weeks back in a magazine, marking them down with a pencil. You went about your day after that but what you didn’t know was that he watched you do that, watched you mark the jutti, and he made his personal mission then to make sure he found this exact pair for your birthday.

“Reh.. tumne ye kaha- kaise? Tumhein kaise pata chala?” (Reh… where did you- how? How did you find out?) You smiled at him, still reeling in from the surprise. He only smirked, his gift had worked, he was proud of himself. “Mujhe nahi pata hoga toh kise hoga jaan?” (If I don’t know, then who would, love?) You lunged forward, throwing your arms around his neck and engulfing him in a hug. “Shukriya Rehman..” (Thank you, Rehman..) he closed his eyes and smiled, hugging you back he replied, “Saalgirah mubaarak, Y/N” (Happy birthday, Y/N)

This was perfect, what you had with him, was perfect- life couldn’t get any better. Most people would look at you two and think that there was something brewing underneath, but you and Rehman would disagree, saying this was only a friendship that ran deeper than any other relationships, the two of you wouldn’t dare to break it’s sanctity and taint it with the tag of a relationship that was anything more than this. Atleast, that’s what you convinced yourself of. Rehman never let any other friendships become as deeper as yours was, he had his guy companions obviously, but no other woman would’ve dared to enter his life, you thought you were the only one who knew him in that way, thought you were the only girl, until ofcourse, Ulfat happened.

A/N: AHHHHHH this is insane I'm writing a whole new rehman fic and it's an angsty one??? I'm so excited to see how this turns out, I have a bunch of ideas running in my head currently. Also did you notice how the reader reminds rehman of a lotus here? just like in TBKL?? and how roses are a thing between the two?? guess my reader and rehman always find eachother in multiple universes huh. Anywaysss!!! let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist for the next part, new parts will be uploaded every tuesday so be on the lookout for that ;) as always let me know if you liked this first part, any and all criticism is welcome, thankyou for your time <3

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PART II

A/N: THIS IS NOT ME GLORYFYING THE ACTUAL CRIMINAL REHMAN BALOCH THAT WAS HEAVILY BEHIND THE 26/11 ATTACKS. THIS IS AN APPRECIATION FOR AKSHAYE KHANNA PLAYING THIS CHARACTER IN THE MOVIE. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU FIND THIS MORALLY WRONG.

Playlist to listen while reading this!

I need a gangsta To love me better Than all the others do To always forgive me Ride or die with me That's just what gangsters do

𝐇𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 : 𝘛𝘩𝘦 "𝘉𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 & 𝘊𝘭𝘺𝘥𝘦" 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦? 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Fire. That's what you felt. A fiery burn that spread through your entire being as your lips crashed onto his. You pressed your mouth to his—slow, reverent, He met you there. And it was everything. He barely wasted a second before his left hand snaked around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, breathing you in. He tasted like tobacco, smelt like danger and forthcoming regret, filthy in the way it devoured your breath but never pushed., but god help you, you simple could not care any less. Your hands struggled to keep up with him, nails digging into his shoulder blades as whiney little noises left your mouth.

His insatiable hunger for you only continued to grow by the minute. All Rehman could think of was how fucking soft you were, everything from your plush lips right down to your hips. His right hand that gripped your waist in place, pulling you flush against him felt sinful, his big rough calloused 'blood stained' hands did not deserve to manhandle a delicate flower like you, but that didn't stop him, for the desire he felt for you surpassed any doubts he had in the moment.

Your lips fell into a rhythm against his, soft wet sounds filling the dim corridor as he continued to devour you, nipping, biting at your bottom lip. He darted his tongue out, swiping it over your lower lip, as if he was asking for permission to let his tongue in. You allowed him ofcourse, what else could you even do? With a whimper you parted your lips, his tongue immediately entangling with yours, letting himself in your mouth with such ease and familiarity like he was coming home. Your tongues fought for dominance, strands of your saliva held you both together, as he mercilessly dominated you, ultimately making you roll your eyes back and giving up, letting him do whatever he desired.

His hand dared to slip past your top, slithering it's way underneath it, rough fingers gingerly feeling the soft skin of your stomach, inching their way towards the underside of your bra. Moving it slowly upward, he squeezed your boob, trying to push the bra down, fingers desperately searching for your nipple, leaving a trail of fiery touches in his wake.

He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging just enough to make you whimper before he soothed the sting with his tongue. You moaned against his mouth and he pulled you in tighter, he growled at your submissive nature, feeling himself harden even more at how easily you just, let him take over you. You felt yourself getting soaked, the inner lining of your panties now drenched, stuck to your folds, everything felt slick. sticky. heavy with sweat and something darker, deeper, that hadn't quite been realised yet, that's when your mind snapped.

"Mmm- Rehman-" You slightly pulled away, he furrowed his brows, trying to lean back further in, he was nowhere near done with you. His mouth instead found his way back to your jaw, making his way down to your neck with wet soft kisses, sucking and leaving bites in his trail. Your eyes fluttered shut, your legs trembled as hands tapped at his shoulders, clutching at his pathani. "Rehman- suniye~" (Rehman- listen) He grunted in response, pulling his hands out and back down, his fingers now bruising into your hips. "Rehman- hum yaha- ye galat hai...koi hume dekhlega Rehman" (Rehman- us here- this is wrong...someone is going to see us) Your voice dripping with panic and pleasure.

“Dekhne do…Rehman cheezein chhupkar nahi karta.” (Let them see...Rehman never sneaks around.) His voice rumbles as he declares how he honestly could not give less of a fuck if anyone sees you. That, knocked the floor right from underneath you. He slightly bent down, hands snaked down to your thighs, gripping at them, as he lifted you up with ease. You gasped as he picked you up, his move unexpected, hands palming over your ass, fingers squeezing, feeling you up, 'soft, so fucking soft' was blaring in his mind. His hips jerked once, grinding up into you so hard and slow your whole body jolted in his embrace. He pressed his hardness right into your core, moans escaping your mouth as he moved you against him.

"Ahem- Rehman bhai, bahar...woh jameel sahab ki gaadi aayi hai. Aane wale election ke nateeje ki baat karne ke liye woh meeting thi teen baje ki toh woh..." (“Ahem—Rehman bhai, outside… Mr. Jameel’s car has arrived. He's here for the three o’clock meeting to discuss the results of the upcoming election, so…) Hesitation laced Hamza's voice as he interrupted us. His voice jolting us both out of our trance. Rehman slowly turned his head, nodding at hamza and turning back to you, releasing you out of his grip and gently placing you back down on your feet. You felt mortified, you told him someone would catch you and someone did, your body ran hot with embarrassment and he noticed the way your body language immediately shifted.

He grabbed a hold of your forearm with one hand, tilting your chin up to face him with the other, your furrowed brows, glossy eyes and worried expression softened his heart. "Mmm mm, fikr karne ki koi zarurat nahi hai, aur darr ki toh bilkul bhi nahi. Hamza humare sabse bharosemand aadmiyo se ek hai, uske saamne sharmaane ki koi baat nahi hmm?" (Mmm mm, there’s no need to worry at all, and absolutely no reason to be afraid. Hamza is one of our most trusted men, there’s nothing to be shy about in front of him, hmm?) his voice was strong, affirmative and reassured you just a little bit as you nodded.

He placed a hand on the back of your skull, pulling you ever so gently towards him, and planting a kiss on your forehead; "Ye humari aakhri mulaaqaat toh hargiz nahi, hum phir milenge, yeh Rehman Dakait ka vaada samajhlijiye" (This is by no means our last meeting, we shall meet again, consider it Rehman Dakait’s promise.), and with that, he walked off with hamza trailing right behind him. This man was fucking with your head in the most literal sense of the word. One minute he couldn't stop pawing at you with rough grabs at your ass, and the next he was kissing your forehead like you were the most delicate thing in the world.

Later that night back at the headquarters, Rehman sat in on his gaddi in his den, thick rimmed glass of whiskey swirling in his hand, his mind was foggy with the day's events, his meeting with Jamali, politics clouding his thoughts, he rubbed the temple of his forehead, pinching the bridge of his brows trying to sustain the headache all of it was giving him. Until he remembered you. He sighed, taking a sip of his whiskey, leaning his head back and closing his eyes momentarily as his mind replayed the memory of you.

Women had been a sensitive subject for him ever since his ex-wife, Ulfat, divorced him years ago. She had seen the danger his life carried and, after the birth of their son, chose to leave rather than risk their lives. Even so, being tied to Rehman meant danger never truly left her, eventually claiming their son’s life at the hands of an enemy. He saw Ulfat only once after that. He respected her choice and decided there was no place for a woman in his life.

That is ofcourse, until he met you. You were different, a breath of fresh air in a city that stank of tobacco, smoke, blood and death. He almost felt guilty for even laying his eyes on you in the first place, but then remembered how actually good it felt laying his hands on you today. Your helpless face, like a lamb about to be slaughtered for eid, the way you quivered under his touch, yet initiated and reciprocated it all like you wanted more, sent his mind for a spin. He noticed how you could be both dominant and responsible, with the way you ordered his men around with no hesitation the day you saved his brother's life, but also submitted to his desires in a second. He thought you were just right for him, he knew he had to have you, claim you.

Weeks passed, you lived your life in uncertainty, went on with your profession like you hadn’t just danced with the devil and lucked out. You cursed yourself, regretting even thinking about him in that light, but deep down you couldn’t deny the pleasure he had shown you, and the way he had left you wanting for more. You tried convincing yourself that you were still pure, still clean, even throwing in extra hours at the hospital trying to work your sins away, but he lingered, his mark on you lingered, and you waited for him till he made his next move.

Lo and behold, Jameel Jamali had won the elections. The Pakistan Peoples Party came into power, and with it, the gang–politics nexus rose unmistakably to the forefront in Lyari. Rehman had won. Celebrations were inevitable. To further cement the political–gang alliance, a wedding was arranged. Hamza and Yalina, Jameel Jamali’s daughter, had been involved for some time, and their relationship worked entirely in Rehman’s favor. So he formalized it, setting the wedding in motion.

Your father, one of Lyari’s most respected doctors, was a long-time family friend of the Jamalis. An invitation to the wedding was only natural. You slipped into your crimson red sharara, styled your hair as best you could, and dolled yourself up carefully, determined to look flawless. As you left for the wedding with your family, you knew you were going to see him. You hated how your heart wouldn’t stop pounding against your chest, how guilt tried, and failed, to mask the excitement simmering beneath it, the anticipation of what was about to unfold.

Hugs and smiles, gifts and gossips were exchanged, that's how weddings usually went right? The venue was undeniably beautiful, Dancers gracing the room like stars in the night sky. You watched as your parents interacted with Yalina's, congratulating them, catching up with each other like old friends do. You were speaking with Yalina, the music booming in the room, beats matching the thumping of your heart, when you saw him enter, and boy oh boy did he knock the wind right out of you.

Tum bhi ho tanha aur hum akele Jo saath hue lajawaab ho gaye Tum bhi haseen aur hum aashiqi hai Jo raat hui benakaab ho gaye

A stark black achkan overcoat, sharply tailored, worn over a matching kurta–pajama set, finished with a single gold brooch embroidery with matching gold buttons, austere and intimidating. His stride shifting the vibe of the room, suddenly everyone was hyper aware of him walking in, with his cigarette between his index and middle finger. He made his way to Hamza, holding him by his biceps and pulling him in for a big hug, You had never seen him smile like this, be happy like this, it did things to your heart.

Yalina noticed his arrival, and grabbed ahold of your hand, dragging you along with her. "Yalina no- nOO!" Alas your pleading fell on deaf ears, and there you stood, right behind her, watching as he congratulated her. His eyes momentarily fell on you, your heart, but to your surprise he only smirked and looked away, walking off making his way through the crowd; leaving you dumbfounded with your mouth ajar.

You tried to take your mind off of the moment, drinking and mingling with people at the wedding, until you heard someone call out to you from behind. "Mujhe aapka sahi se shukriya ada karne ka mauqa hi nahi mila." (I never got a chance to properly thank you) You whipped your head around, and saw Uzair, smiling at you with a glass in his hand. You smiled right back at him and responded- "Umeed hai aap ki tabiyat ab khairiyat mein hai." (I hope your health is better now.) "Ji doctorni saheba sab aapki badaulat" (Yes Ms. Doctor all thanks to you) He chimed, smiling ear to ear, making you giggle. Unbeknownst to the both of you, were a pair of eyes watching the whole ordeal like a hawk.

You kept chatting with Uzair, intermittently sipping on your own drink, he seemed nice and easy enough to speak with, until you heard him. "Lagta hai aakhir tumhari inse se mulaqat ho hi gayi huh, Uzair." (So you finally met her huh, Uzair) A chill ran down your spine, you felt his hand on the small of your back. "Ji bhai, aapne jaise bataya bilkul waisi hi hai bhabhi" (Yes bhai, bhabhi is exactly the way you described her)

COUGH- sputter- what. You choked on your drink when you heard him. "Bhabhi?!" You barked out, Rehman only chuckled, shaking his head, his laugh in harmony with uzair's as he smacked the back of his head. "Ulti seedhi baatein karta hai woh, aap dhyaan na dein." (He talks nonsense, please don’t pay attention.) He reassured you, but you knew he was only lying and enjoying this far more than he should.

He leaned in, lips almost grazing your earlobe, the smell of expensive whiskey and cigs engulfing your senses as he spoke in a volume only you could hear at "Waise- bilkul aapke naam ke jaise, ye khitaab bhi jachta hai aap par" (By the way, this title suits you just as perfectly as your name does.) His hand sneaked from the small of your back to the side of your waist, giving you a squeeze before walking away, as a reminder of what he said to you last time, this wasn't over.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, annoyance, and trailed after him. “Rehman rukiye-“ (Rehman wait-) you caught his hand. He twisted back, gaze dropping down to your grasp, and back up to you with a raised eyebrow. Fuck. What were you doing? You quickly let go of his hand, he only scoffed and smirked at that. “Badi himmat dikhane lagi hai aap, bhare mauhaul mein Rehman Dakait ka haath-waath pakadna, Uzair baloch se khilkhilaakar baat karna” (You’ve started showing quite a bit of courage, holding Rehman Dakait’s hand so openly, laughing and chatting away with Uzair Baloch in a crowded setting.) His words brought you back to reality, what had gotten into you, you looked around the room, and spotted your parents. Your father pinching the bridge of his nose and your mother with a look of anger, you were so done for.

“Chaliye koi baat nahi, issi bahane aapse baat karne ka mauka toh mila” (In any case, at least it gave me an excuse to talk to you.) He stepped closer to you, taking a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from you like a true gentleman, he spoke. “Waise kehena padega, laal rang bada jachta hai aap par” (I have to say, red looks beautiful on you.) His hand found his way back to your waist, your heart pounding as you felt his touch. “Dil toh karta hai aapko yaha se, in saalo ki nazro se kahi dur lejau, bass, hum dono…” (I feel like taking you away from here, far from these bastards eyes, just, us two…) He leaned in, towering over you as his voice gruff as he spoke only for you to hear.

You fluttered your eyes shut for a moment, breathing in slow, trying to steady yourself. When you opened your eyes, tilting your chin up, you looked at him, eyes pleading, filled to the brim with a need that only he could fulfill, you nodded. He raised an eyebrow at that, understanding that you, were far gone, and needed to be taken care of.

In an instant his hand snaked around your waist and pulled you away from the crowd, your eyes flashed around the room one last time, meeting your parents, feeling a guilt like you had never before, but burying your face in his side seemed to help. He ordered one of his men to bring his car around, watching as the man opened the door for you and him to get in.

“Ghar, aur aankhein saamne.” (Home, and keep your eyes upfront) He ordered, voice asserting and dangerously, insanely hot. The engine roared to life, zooming out of the driveway of the venue. The two of you barely wasted a second before your hands were on each other. He gripped at your thighs, pulling you closer and you understood, leaning up and placing yourself down on his lap, legs on either side of his, your knees squeezed tighter around his hips. Your hands found his chest, you could swear you feel his heartbeat through his black kurta.

Your mouth hovered just above his, your nose brushing his, your breath mingling with his in the warm, electric space between. the lights of the streets flashing by, lighting up the side of his face, he looked like a bad decision, yet he felt like salvation. His hand sneaked behind the nape of your neck and pulled you in, kissing you reverently. He kissed you like he was etching out a new memory, like he wanted you to remember this moment when you were alone later.

You ground down harder, and he met you, hips grinding up into yours like he couldn't help himself anymore. The kiss deepened. Wet. Heavy. The other hand guiding you by your ass, helping you rock in his lap, his thickness grinding perfectly through your clothes. He let out the most beautiful sounds, you felt heavenly to him in the moment, whereas you knew you were going to hell for this.

"Rehman~ ahh- REHMAN" You cried out as he guided your hips harder, the friction dizzying, filthy sounds echoing through the backseat of his car. “Qasam khuda ki…tumhari yeh aawazein, meri saans rok dengi” (I swear to God… your sounds are going to take my breath away.) He managed to grunt out, breathless as he spoke, you whined at his words, he groaned as his hands grabbed tight at your ass, dragging you down against him in rhythm.

He kissed you hard, parting away for a second to breathe, panting, foreahead pressed to yours, lips slick and pink. His hand slowly dragged up further, making his way to your breasts. Eyes bore into yours as he tested the waters, giving you a squeeze. Your eyes shut tight as you moaned, he grinds up into you. His hand rough and big, relentlessly pawing at your boob.

The car comes to a screeching halt outside his house, the stop recoil sending you crashing against his body, he caught you with ease, wrapping his arms around you as your face hit his chest. You slowly looked up, meeting his gaze, in that moment he thought you looked the most beautiful since he had seen you first; his hand came up to your cheek, thumb gently grazing. "Ab aur intezaar nahi, aur der nahi...chalein?" (No more waiting, no more delay… shall we?)

A/N: Hiii my loveliesss, part 2 is finally here, and it is much much smuttier than the first one hehehe, but it also has a bit of story so i hope the balance between the two worked out well. I hope you enjoyed reading, do let me know your thoughts, I'll probably be writing a third part to finish this up, or if i don't this feels like a good little ending to tie it all up as well :) let me know what direction i should go forward in!! Thankyou for your time!

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PART III

A/N: THIS IS NOT ME GLORYFYING THE ACTUAL CRIMINAL REHMAN BALOCH THAT WAS HEAVILY BEHIND THE 26/11 ATTACKS. THIS IS AN APPRECIATION FOR AKSHAYE KHANNA PLAYING THIS CHARACTER IN THE MOVIE. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU FIND THIS MORALLY WRONG.

Playlist to listen while reading this!

I know you told me I should stay away I know you said he's just a dog astray He is a bad boy with a tainted heart And even I know this ain't smart But mama I'm in love with a criminal And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical Mama please don't cry, I will be alright All reason aside I just can't deny, I love the guy

𝐇𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 : 𝘛𝘩𝘦 "𝘉𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 & 𝘊𝘭𝘺𝘥𝘦" 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦? 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

In an instant, he moved you around, one hand snaking underneath your knees and one at your back, cradling you. The driver opened the backdoor, as Rehman swiftly ducked his head and carried you out of the car. Your breath hitched, your hand clasped at his chest as he lifted you up bridal style, all the way to the door of his abode, without breaking eye contact.

“Bohot intezar kiya ha iss pal ka…” (Been waiting for this moment for a long time now) his voice raw, deep, sending shivers down your spine. “Maine bhi..” (Me too) you replied, as your hand clutched the fabric of his kurta tighter. The door to his bedroom was already slightly swung open when he manoeuvred his way in, making sure that you don’t accidentally hit your head or your feet, such a fucking gentleman. Your body hit the bed with a slight bounce as he laid you down. His eyes were hooded with need and urgency, but he knew he had to take his own sweet time with you.

He began by peeling off his black achkan jacket, the dim moonlight lighting him up in the most ethereal ways, he pulled his black kurta up and above his head, leaving him fully shirtless just for you. A breathy sigh left your lips as you took the sight infront you in, the broad shoulders, the chest hair, veiny arms and the faint shadows of the scars on his body left by the harsh ruthless life that he led, that little strand of his hair falling above his forehead just right. You couldn’t wait any longer, you were yearning for him.

You extended your arms towards him, he followed, climbing on the bed making his way towards you. His hands found the side of your waist, feeling your body underneath your sharara. “Khuda qasam itni khubsoorat lagti ho laal rang mein, afsos hai ke ye tum waapis nahi pehen paogi” (I swear to god you look so beautiful in red, such a shame you won't be able to wear this again.) “Huh?” Before you could respond or even realise, his hand travelled up to your collarbone and caught a hold of the fabric, ripping it open to reveal your cleavage for him. You yelped, not only was your sharara now shredded, but so was your dignity.

His hands worked roughly to tear it some more, leaving your entire upper body now served up on a platter for him. The red lacy bra you picked out to wear underneath was no coincidence in the slightest, infact it was a calculated decision. He saw the bra and groaned, leaning his forehead on your chest.

His face rolled forward, brushing his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips on your exposed skin. The touch lit you on fire, your hands went around him, grounding him, holding him in position. He peppered kisses down your collarbone, inching towards the swell of your breasts. Your right hand comes up to tangle itself in his hair. “Rehman..” you whisper, he only hummed against your skin, tongue darting out occasionally to taste you. His fingers move in an instant, one hand moving to your back, unclasping your bra without missing a beat, almost too skillfully, sliding the straps your arms, and pulling the lacy prison away.

You were so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. It was all that was ringing in his head, laying on his bed, in his room, the cool breeze coming through the window perking up your nipples, he was in awe. His fingers ever so gently touched you, your nub caught between his index and middle finger, just like how his cigarette would; he began pulling, playing, toying with your nipple, mouth slightly parted, breath uneven. You whined, moaned as he continued toying with you, you brought your own hand over his, pressing it down, making sure he fully grasped your boob, making you both moan in unison.

He was getting impatient by the second, moving fast to fully discard your torn sharara and throwing it across the room, pulling your pants down and throwing them as well, he promptly followed, peeling off his pants, you couldn’t help yourself, you shamelessly stared at him in his boxers, the shape of his hardness practically begging to be freed from it’s cotton jail, he looked heavy, big. Skin on skin, hands on hands, you couldn’t stop kissing him. Kissing him felt so fucking good, the way he held your head when he dominated your mouth with his tongue, the way he nibbled on your lower lip, making you feel dizzy.

He broke the kiss for a breath, looking deep into your eyes as he tried to catch his breath; that’s when he did something unexpected. Inserting a hand between your legs, he spread them apart, slowly inching down, a small smirk forming on his face as your eyes widened. “Rehman aap ye kya kar rahe hai” (Rehman what are you doing?) you tried to stop him, but he got to your first. “Jo mujhe chahiye woh.” (Whatever what I want) and with that?

He dove head first between your legs, his nose nudging your clit, like he was desperate to get a whiff of the effect he had on you, he wanted to know how he had you dripping through your matching panties, which were proper soaked at this point, you whimpered, the touch already feeling overwhelming. “Dil toh karta hai, ghanto tak yahi theher jau” (I just wish I could stay down here for hours)

His ran his index finger over your slit, you hissed at the feeling, “Rehman…” you whined in need, you couldn’t deal with any more teasing, so you let your own hands fall to your hips, pulling your panties off and tossing them to the side. He was slightly taken aback by your actions, but only smiled in return, you were desperate, needy, and soaking wet for him, so he gave in.

You stared at him. Breathless. Legs open. Shaking. His hands firm on your thighs now, spreading you wider as he settled between them, and lowered his mouth to you; you were laid out beneath him, trembling, sprawled out on his bed, and then he had his mouth on you, dragging hot and open over your folds, like a starving man.

You gasped- head leaning back, hips jerking up

“REHMAN—“ He growled into your cunt as if the moans of his name made him harder, the low rumble vibrating through your core. His hands gripped your bare thighs, spreading them wider, thumbs digging into soft flesh. He licked a slow deliberate stripe through your folds, pointed at first but then laying it flat on you, lapping up your sweet nectar. Your eyes rolled back into your head, and your hand gripped at his hair.

He felt himself twitch and throb every time he licked you, tasted you, heard you chant his name like a fucking prayer. “Rehman rukiye-“ (Rehman wait-) you felt it rising, faster than it should’ve, your hands gripping his hair. He didn’t, he did not wait, he only doubled down, sucking your clit between his lips like it belonged to him now, going faster and faster with a devastating intent. “Bass, thoda aur jaan…” (Just a little more love) voice muffled by your pussy, he continued to wreck you.

Your whole body tensed, back arching off of his bed as his other hand came up to anchor you down. You broke; orgasm ripping through you in seconds, a wave of pleasure crashing over the edges, making your entire body seize up as ecstasy pulsed from your core outwards. He lapped at your release like it was the finest nectar, tongue delving between your folds to collect every drop, swirling around your entrance.

He slowly rose up, meeting your lips for a kiss, you could taste yourself on him, and it only tempted you worse. His cock throbbed visibly against the fabric of his boxers, a dark wet spot forming from his own leaking precum, but he ignored it, eyes locked on yours with that feral, obsessive gleam. You noticed, slowly rising up from the bed, flipping him around and straddling him.

Your bare slick heat directly seated on his wet boxers, your fingers toyed with the waistband, as you whined to him while pulling on it. He only let out a breathy chuckle, as he understood what you wanted, needed. And so the boxers were gone, as he shifted you a bit back to sit on his thighs and there. he. was.

Big, was an understatement. He was huge. Thick and long in all the right ways, veins decorated the length of him. Your mouth went dry at the sight. He sat there smirking proudly, thick big cock standing upright, the tip almost angry and red, a bead of precum topping it off all just for you, his hands squeezed your ass at the back to reel you back into reality, was this even going to fit in you? “Rehman…mai ye kaise?” (Rehman...how will i?) Your voice shaky, trembling with uncertainty. He quickly straightened up and began kissing the nape of your neck “Le logi, meri jaan- sab mumkin hai, mai hoon na?” (You'll take it, my love- everything's possible, I'm here right?)

You moaned at his words, wanting to show your need for him, you began descending lower, bending down till your lips came in contact with his cock. But to your surprise; he stopped you. “Rehman- mai bass ye aapke liye.” (Rehman- I was just doing this for you) You spoke “Mmm mm, meri baat chhodiye, pehele aap.” (Mmm mm, this isn't about me, you first.) And with that, he flipped you around, your back hitting the bed as he hung over you. He began kissing you again, not so much with rush, but with a certain tenderness now. He made his way down, kissing your neck, your breasts, his mouth going to your right side, sucking on your nipple, hand coming up to squeeze and play with the left, making sure you got all the attention you needed.

“Rehman~ aur nahi roka jaata…” (Rehman~ can't wait any longer) you pleaded, whimpering as your hands roamed his back. He only nodded, coming back up to your face, He dragged the thick head of his cock through your folds slowly You whimpered, legs twitching. He slapped his cock against your clit, once, twice—and you gasped, eyes fluttering. You looked up at him, wild-eyed, wrecked, trembling. He groaned, deep, guttural, and then without another word, he slammed into you.

With a single, assured thrust of his hips, he drove into you, his cock stretching your pussy wide as he buried himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. The sudden fullness ripped a moan from both of you - yours a sharp gasp that echoed off the confined walls, his a deep, guttural groan that vibrated through his chest into yours. Your walls clenched around him instinctively, slick and hot, welcoming the invasion even as your mind reeled from the intensity.

He stilled for a heartbeat, savoring the tight grip of you around him, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he fought to compose himself. his hips snapped forward again, pulling out halfway before slamming back in. Each thrust was deliberate, powerful, just like he was. You couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Just gasps and broken moans and the stretch of him inside you, thick and hot and bare.

He rocked into you again. Then again. You clenched around him and he groaned, hips stuttering, pace quickening. “Kehedo ke tum meri ho-" (Say that you're mine) he gritted out through his teeth, pace unfazed. “REHMAN- main- main aapki-” (REHMAN- I'm- I'm yours-)

And he kept going. Fucking you deep. Bare. Like you were never leaving his bed again. Rehman kept pounding into you, hard, sweat and slick keeping your bodies glued, the sounds of skin on skin echoing in the room, his cock dragging deep in you, hitting just the right spot with every thrust he made. You were crying out loud, messy, filthy, he was groaning, moaning and shuddering at how you kept clenching around him.

He leaned forward to kiss you, open, hot, and flipped you. One moment you were on your back, and the next you were on your side. His chest to your back, his biceps under your neck as your pillow, and his other hand over you, pawing at your boobs, his face buried in the crook of your neck, panting, moaning your name. You whined, embarrassed, feral, soaked just for him. “Meri jaan, oh- meri jaan…” (My love, oh- my love) he kept whispering. He bit your shoulder. Then kissed it. Then fucked you harder, groaning into your ear, words tangled in breath and sweat and raw hunger.

You were gone. Mindless. Babbling, wet sounds pouring from your mouth as your thighs shook and your body writhed against the press of his chest to your back. you sobbed, body tensing up as you came, gushing around his length— and he came. Hard. Hot. Groaning as his hips stuttered into you. He fucked you right through it, hips rolling deep and slow as he emptied every last drop of him inside you.

The room now felt hot, with sex and sweat and words better left unsaid, your mind was spinning faster than ever before. Your chest rose in ragged little gasps as you blinked up at the ceiling, vision hazy, body still beneath the weight of Rehman’s body still draped over yours. He slowly pulled out of you, gently, slowly, the drag of him making you whimper, you felt the slow trickle of warmth slipping down beneath your legs.

He gently turned you around, kissing your forehead, cradling your cheeks and wiping away stray tears. You both knew that saying anything right now was futile, so you just nudged yourself closer in his embrace, as he happily took you in. You fell deep into slumber for the night, bodies warm, tired and tangled with each other.

The morning sun cast over you through his window, bringing the new light’s rays and realisation of last night to you. Your eyes slowly blinked open, and fell on him. God was he a sight to behold as always. Sculpted like a fucking greek god, even in pure sunlight his aura dark, powerful, and dangerous. You slowly stretched yourself, feeling a faint ache all over, especially between your legs.

Honestly? You felt..happy. You hated it, you knew what you did had dire consequences, but you felt, satisfied, like you were glowing from within. He stirred besides you, slowly waking up as well, and when he did, the first thing he did was pull you closer, and kiss your temple. You blushed, trying to control yourself from smiling ear to ear as your hand rested on his chest.

“Rehman…mujhe ghar jaana hoga…” (Rehman...I have to get home...) you whispered, reality was slowly settling in, you had left the wedding with Rehman without telling anyone, you knew your parents saw you, and were going to be furious at you about it, but you hoped you could just sneak back into your house and come up with some lie, any lie to get away with this. Rehman understood you, he knew you weren’t regretting this, you just had to go on with your day, this was far from over, infact it had just begun.

“Main sirohi se kehkar gaadi neeche khadi karta hu, kisi aur cheez ki zarurat ho toh kehdo.” (I’ll tell Sirohi to park the car downstairs. If you need anything else, just let me know.) He spoke, voice deep and rough in the morning. “Rehman..woh mere kapde..” (Rehman...my clothes) Right. The ones he had torn away last night. He blushed, chuckling along with you for the first time. This moment felt soft, genuine, as he kissed your cheek he replied. “Maaf karna meri jaan, tum mere kapde pehenlena..” (Sorry, my love, just wear my clothes.)

And with that, you sat in his jeep, hair messy, dressed in his black kurta that was way too big for you, and his black pants that you had to tighten around your waist so they won’t fall off. Sirohi drove you to your house, your heart pounded on the way, memories of last night flashing your mind, but the fear that your parents might catch you rang louder in your head. You finally reached your destination, stepping out of the jeep. Head hung low as you did- but when you looked up, the colour from your face drained in a second. There stood your parents, on the steps of your house.

Your father’s face furious and red with anger, your mother’s hung low in shame. “Ammi- abbu main” (Mom- dad i-) you tried to speak, voice trembling with fear. “Bass. aur mat sharminda karo humein. Humne tumhe bada kiya, padhaya, likhaya, doctor banaya, aur tumne kya kiya?” (Enough. Don’t shame us any further. We raised you, educated you, made you a doctor, and what did you do in return?) Your father’s harsh words cut you deep. “Uss, gunde, khooni Rehman Dakait ke saath- tumhein zara si bhi sharam nahi aayi?” (With that thug, that murderer Rehman Dakait—did you not feel even an ounce of shame?)

His voice seething, making you jolt in fear. Your mother tossed a blue suitcase at your feet, tears forming in your eyes as you looked at it. “Aainda apni shakal bhi iss ilaake mein mat dikhana, aur waapis aane ki toh himmat bhi mat karna.” (From now on, don’t even show your face in this area, and don’t you dare think of coming back.) Your mother’s broken voice rang out, your ears felt hot, like smoke was coming out of them as your body froze up.

You bit your lip as tears began streaming down your face; they took one last look at your small trembling frame and went back inside, slamming the doors of your home forever shut for you.

Sirohi stepped out of the jeep, unsure of what he should do, he looked at you, feeling bad for you, you slowly turned your head to him, eyes filled to the brim with tears that kept falling down. “Rehman ke ghar- le chalo-“ (Rehman's house- take me there-) you spoke, between sobs. He nodded immediately, grabbing your suitcase, and putting it in, opening the backdoor for you as you got in.

The jeep zoomed through the streets of Lyari, the same city that you loathed for all that it was, how you convinced yourself that you were different from it, but now that your own family had disowned you, thrown you out, these same streets were now adopting you. You had already become a part of the life you so claimed to hate.

Rehman was in his backyard, smiling to himself smoking a cigarette as he reminisced about you, when he heard the sound of the jeep pulling up, he headed in, and walked towards the entrance of his home. The jeep came to a halt, as Sirohi stepped out to open your door for you, and taking the suitcase out in his hand. You finally stepped out, face stained with old tears and still wet with new ones falling, you were sobbing.

He was taken aback, almost shocked at your state, flicking his cigarette away, as he rushed towards you. He searched your face, took one look at the suitcase and knew what had gone down. He didn’t waste even a second and pulled you in his arms. “Reh-man…” you sobbed, broke down, shoulder slumping and eyes tight shut. He caressed the back of your head, as he held you close. “Shhh, koi baat nahi." (Shhh, it's alright)

He kissed your forehead, caressing your hair as he tried to calm your cries "Aaj se tum yaha hi rahogi, tum Rehman Dakait ki ho, tumhe koi taqleef nahi hogi, main tumhara dhyaan rakhunga meri jaan, ye waada hai mera.” (From today on, you’ll stay right here. You belong to Rehman Dakait now. You won’t face any trouble, I’ll take care of you, my love. That’s my promise) He hushed you, consoled you, held you like you meant everything to him, and you did.

This was beyond just a small thing, a mistake that you thought you were constantly making while you kept choosing to be around him. No, this was destiny written, this was your life now, you were changed, he was changed.

The remnants of your past life now long gone as you buried yourself in his arms, for now you truly, finally, now belonged to...

The Bastard King of Lyari

A/N: FINAFUCKINGLYYYY!!!! Yayyyy!! It’s done, It is kinda big but, it is the last and final part of The Bastard King of Lyari. It was a beast to write and edit and make it so that all of you would love to read it, and it’s such a bittersweet feeling to complete this mini series. I just want to say thankyou, to all of you that spent your precious time reading this, and to all who supported, and showed love. I had a blast doing this for all of you, and maybe in the future I’ll be writing headcannons or one shots, or maybe even another series who knows. Thankyou to all of you once again, love y’all ❤️

warning: angst, hurt.

Part IV

Playlist to listen to while reading!

We didn't even date Then why do I still got so damn much to say Well maybe it's my fault Get attached and then still call it love Think of you all the time Doesn't matter 'cause I'm not even on your mind Wish I could just take it all back

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧: Is it you or Is it her? Only time will tell.

"Y/N! Y/N?!" your poor frantic mother tried to chase after you, as you pushed past everything, feet quick as you ran up to your room and slammed the door shut.

You slid down with your back to the door, face buried in your hands as broken sobs errupted from the deepest pits within you.

This was it, this was how it was going to be. He had changed. He wasn’t your Rehman anymore. You couldn’t blame ulfat no matter how hard you wanted to, she was an angel, but then again you kinda wished she were dead. So you sat there, mud stained and ruined, palm resting at your forehead like you couldn’t believe how fucked up this had all become.

How stupid of you to even assume he must have been thinking of you, getting a gift for you? When all that he was doing was thinking of her, spending time with her, buying things for her. The bitter taste of heartbreak and the feeling of swallowing broken glass just wouldn’t leave you.

You weren’t even exactly sure as to why you were feeling this betrayed, this neglected; not like you ever meant anything more to him than just a best friend, not like you were…his.

Would he treat you as good as he was treating ulfat if you were his? Would his eyes never leave your face like they never leave hers? Would he break promises he made to other people just to accommodate you? How would it feel to be the object of his affection? His desires? Tears kept escaping your already red eyes as you thought about it all.

It was of no use anyways, being his lover was a far fetched idea now that he wouldn’t even treat you equally, as if you show up for him when nobody did, as if you didn’t grow up right by his side and never left.

Memories of the two of you flashed in your mind as you succumbed to the pain, his smile, the way his eyes crinkle up when he’s overjoyed, how he always let you score more goals than him while playing football, how you became his comfort whenever you held him, hugged him to your chest after a traumatic moment; doing your father’s dirty work had never been easy for him.

How everytime you held him, your beating heart regulated his trembling body and staggering breath, and now the same beating heart was breaking, all because of him.

All the crying and thinking gave you a headache, your eyes almost swollen. You weren’t even aware as you fell asleep at the door, sliding down to the cold floor, your body shivered in the cold night.

An hour or so went by, when Uzair returned to the house after dropping Ulfat off. Your mother ran up to him, “Uzair, beta zara dekho na Y/N, Y/N-“ (Uzair, dear, go check on Y/N, Y/N) she was panicking, upset. Uzair was astonished, “Y/N? Kya hua usse??” (Y/N? What happened to her??) Your mother explained how you locked yourself in your room, and without wasting another second Uzair rushed upstairs.

“Y/N?? Y/N!! Darwaza kholo Y/N!!” (Y/N?? Y/N!! Open the door, Y/N!!) You were jolted out of your sleep, the sudden knocks and the banging of the door accompanied by Uzair’s frantic voice. “uzair…?”

Your throat scratched as you replied. “Y/N, jo kuch bhi hua hai mujhe batado, ye darwaaza band karne se kya hone wala hai? Andar aane do mujhe, Y/N” (Y/N, whatever has happened, tell me. What will closing this door achieve? Let me come inside, Y/N.) his voice pleaded, he sounded sad? Upset with himself that he couldn’t be there for you.

You slowly stood up, stumbling in your place as you tried to find the strength to stand upright. The door slowly opened, and uzair barged in. “Y/N!?” His manner slowed down as he took in your state.

You could practically see it in his face, how his heart shattered when he saw you, eyes swollen, cheeks stained with fresh tears, your brand new embroidered light pink kurti now meshed with the dirty brown of mud, your slumped shoulders, your frazzled hair. “Y/N…” his face and voice softened at once, and the damn broke.

You sobbed as he pulled you in his chest.

Left hand cradled the back of your head, right held your back, holding you firm against him, letting you cry your heart out. “Shhh…koi nahi koi nahi- Y/N…” (Shhh… it’s okay, it’s okay, Y/N…) his palm stroked your hair, trying to calm you down. Your sobs broke harder, hands clutching at him. Seeing you this distraught had him worried to death, confused and angry.

After calming you down, he had you sit down on your bed, his hands held your shaky ones, fingers grazing gently against your rough muddy skin. “Ab bataogi? Kis baat ne tumhein itna pareshan kardiya Y/N” (Will you tell me now? What is it that disturbed you so much, Y/N?)

Between whimpers and broken breaths, you began, all the way from the start, till the events of tonight. You explained yourself, told him all about Rehman’s sudden behavioural shift, all while trying to not break down again. Once you were done, you looked up at his face, his expression was, unfamiliar.

He looked like he knew something, and was heartbroken to tell you about it. “Y/N…Bhai ne tumhein bataya nahi?” (Y/N… bhai didn’t tell you?)

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Kya bataya nahi?” (didn’t tell me what?) Uzair momentarily closed his eyes and sighed, clutching your hand tighter, he replied “Rehman bhai aur Ulfat…bhai ko unse ishq hai…” (Rehman and Ulfat, bhai is in love with her…)

As if anything else couldn’t go wrong. Your heart drops to your stomach. Your face goes blank, and you could only manage to stutter out “Ishq…?” (Love...?) Uzair looked disappointed to make you hear this.

He nodded. “Haa, ishq, Bhai aur Ulfat, kuch hafto se ek saath hai…shayad isliye tumhein cheezein alag lagne lagi hain. Lekin bhai ne tumhein nahi bataya…ye baat toh mujhe bhi galat lagi” (Yes, love, Bhai and Ulfat have been together for a few weeks now, maybe that’s why things have started to feel different to you. But bhai didn’t tell you, that didn’t sit right with me either.)

You sat there, staring into the abyss with sad tired eyes. This was what went wrong, you had been replaced, your position, your importance had shifted, and you were facing a difficulty to change.

Uzair felt helpless as he watched you, he knew what was in your heart, how you felt. Growing up he had felt the feeling as well, how everytime he had your attention, Rehman would show up, and swoop you away; leaving him dumbfounded.

“Main…main khud jaanti tak nahi ke mujhe itna farq kyu padne laga hai Uzair…Rehman usse jo chaahe woh kare, par jab baat mere izzat ki aati hai, usne aaj mujhse bohot badtameezi ki, mera dil dukhaya..” (I… I don’t even know myself why it’s started to matter this much to me, Uzair. Rehman can do whatever he wants with her, but when it comes to my dignity, today he behaved very rudely with me, he hurt my heart.)

“Y/N, main jaanta hu tumhein itna farq kyu pad raha hai…” (Y/N, I know why this is affecting you so much…) he looked deep in your eyes, as if he was urging you to face your own truth, so he wouldn’t have to say it. You noticed his gaze, his underlying meaning, and slowly nodded no, as if you were scared of what he was accusing you of. “Nahi…nahi Uzair, ye main- ye- Mujhe Rehman se Ishq-“ (No… no, Uzair, this, I, in love with Rehman-)

He looked down at your hands, “Y/N…”

A beat passed

And everything came at you like a crashing realisation. God were you in love with him. How could you not have been? You grew up with him, watched him bloom into the man he has become. You loved his entire being, loved being the woman he relied on, the one he ran to when life went sideways for him, you loved being his, and now that you weren’t, your world was destroyed.

“Uzair…” your eyes teared up, there was revelation in them, a painful reality faced, he pulled you closer, let you lay your head on his shoulder, he felt sorry for you, his own heart cracking at the sight of you being so miserable.

He couldn’t sit there and watch the girl he loved be heartbroken like this.

Weeks passed by, winter in lyari was cruel as ever.

Old dry leaves detaching themselves from trees that once housed them on their own branches; something similar was happening in your own life.

Rehman had earned enough money from doing work for your father that he had finally bought a house for himself, the move from your house in Agra taj colony, to his new house in Mithadar was strategic, it was a new territory for him to conquer, and also far enough from where he grew up, there was no chance he would just run into you. Conveniently he bought a house in Mithadar so Ulfat could be closer to her maiden home, in Kalri. Things were moving fast between them.

For Rehman, Ulfat was perfect; she brought beauty, grace, her wits and her family business along with her, she listened, she was bold enough to speak her truth, and she adored him. What more could he ask for?

Right?

Well there was the occasional moment where, he would miss the chance to banter, she never really got into all that. The food she made tasted, different, good sure, but…different. Her presence around him felt, silent, a bit eerily silent at times, he missed having someone loud and constantly talking, eating his ear off with their non stop conversation, kind of how you did.

Late nights with a glass of imported scotch in his hand, swirling the drink, he often reminisced, sipped, missing you. How after almost every dinner, he’d sit with you in your bageecha, admiring the roses, venting about his day to you, the difficult things he had to do in this crime ridden life, and how you listened, you always listened, not only that but you gave advice, you helped.

Ulfat wasn’t really the one to do that, she always preferred for him to keep his life of crime separate from her.

A moment between the two of you flashed his mind, he chortled. The first time he ever taught you how to handle a gun.

“Rehman, mujhse nahi hopayega, galti se maine goli chala di toh!?” (Rehman, I can’t do this, what if I accidentally fire the gun?!?) You panicked, as he handed you a 9mm pistol, the heavy metal feeling uncomfortable in your hands. “Toh chala dena” (Then go ahead and fire it.) he laughed, clutching his stomach at your awkward scared self. This was amusing to him.

“TUMHEIN YE SAB MAZAK LAGRAHA HAI REHMAN!?!” (DO YOU REALLY THINK ALL THIS IS A JOKE, REHMAN?!?!) You yelled at him, he only laughed harder in retaliation. “Achha accha, maafi meri jaan, aao, idhar aao main tumhein theek se sikhata hu isse-“ (Alright, alright, my apologies, my love. Come here, I’ll teach you-) he came up behind you, holding your waist from the back. “Kaise istemaal karte hai.” (how to properly how to use it)

You would be lying if you didn’t feel your heart flutter at his proximity, his touch.

Meanwhile, You had decided enough was enough, wallowing over your own misery now that he was long gone wasn’t doing any good for you, so you decided to try to move on.

You were in the baazar, shopping for vegetables for the week, when it went down.

The space around you felt too quiet, too many eyes. Ever since Rehman left Agra Taj Colony, the air has shifted, subtle, predatory. People talked. Men linger longer. Respect had thinned. Even though this area was under your father’s command, Rehman’s presence had shifted the power dynamics when he entered the game, and now that he wasn’t here, things were different.

As you began walking home, you felt the presence of someone following you. Not just one person, three men. You began walking faster, but they caught up to you. They corner you near the lane that cuts behind the closed godown. The shutters are rusted shut, paint flaking like old scabs. The place smells of damp cement and stale oil, nothing alive, nobody watching.

Three of them.

Men who look like they’ve had to learn patience the hard way, lean bodies, relaxed shoulders, confidence worn loose. One chewing paan slowly, staining the corner of his mouth red. Another toying with the ring on his finger, turning it like time is something he owned.

They smiled

Not friendly, more predatory. Like they had caught up with their prey.

“Humari nazar toh tumpe humesha se hi thi, aur ab toh Rehman bhi nahi raha yahan, ilaka jo badal liya usne. Ab tumhein kaun bachane aayega mohotarma” (We’ve always had our eyes on you, and now Rehman isn’t even here anymore, he’s changed territories. Who’s going to come save you now, madam?) They laughed, mocked, cruelty in their eyes.

Your spine goes rigid, your jaw sets.

You lift your chin and meet their eyes one by one. You knew these men were from some rival gang, here to collect their share of power. “Tum shayad bhul gaye hoge ke ye ilaaka Rehman se pehele mere Abbu ka tha. Tum mein se kisi ek ko bhi zinda nahi chhodenge woh.” (You may have forgotten that before Rehman, this area belonged to my Abbu. He won’t leave even one of you alive.)

For half a second, just half, there’s silence.

Then they laugh. One of them bends slightly at the waist, like the joke physically pleased him. “Woh buddha?” (That old man?) Another snorts. “Uska daur gaya Y/N jaan.” (His era is over, Y/N jaan.) The man closest to you takes a step forward, not aggressive, not fast. Slow enough being deliberate. Close enough that you can smell tobacco and sweat, feel the heat of his body intruding into your space.

“Zamana badal gaya hai” (Times have changed) he says quietly. Another voice joins in, circling behind her now. You hear footsteps, feeling the alley narrow. “Waise bhi” (Anyway) someone adds, gaze sliding over you with no shame.

“Aamir Sahab ki beti…” (Aamir Sahab’s daughter…) A pause. Measured. Cruel.

“…yeh toh trophy hui na.” (she turns out to be a trophy, doesn’t she?)

Your breath stuttered

You shove past one of them, nails scratching skin, heart hammering so hard it nearly drowns out the sound of your own fear. Someone grabs your duppata, pulling it away, tearing it in the process. Someone else clamping a hand around your wrist.

“ARGHH chhodo- JAANE DO MUJHE” (ARRGHH let go- LET ME GO)

For one awful second, the world narrows to hands and laughter. Then, chaos.

A shove. A stumble. You twist, wrenching yourself free just enough to run. The bag of vegetables in your hand fallen, long forgotten as you escaped. Down the alley, lungs burning, juttis slapping hard against concrete, breath tearing out of your chest. You don’t look back.

You don’t see Donga standing across the street, frozen mid-step.

Donga had seen everything, the torn duppata, your face white with shock, anger blazing underneath, The men melting back into shadows the moment they realize they’ve been seen. He doesn’t spend another second there, he turns, walks fast, hauls a rickshaw all the way to Rehman’s house.

By the time he reaches Rehman, his breath is steady, but his hands aren’t. One of them keeps flexing, like it’s remembering something it wants to break. Rehman looks up at him, and knows something is wrong. Not because Donga wouldn’t say anything, because he just couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Bhai” he starts, voice low, controlled.

Then stops. Rehman doesn’t interrupt. He just waits. Donga swallows. “Aaj Agra taj colony mein… Y/N.” (Today, in Agra Taj Colony…Y/N.) That’s it.

Rehman’s expression doesn’t change, but something behind it does. A subtle stillness over him, the kind that usually comes before he’s about kill someone. “Kya hua” (What happened?) Rehman says quietly. Not a question. A command. Donga finally looks up. “Mirza ke bande, sadiq market mein Y/N…usse chhed rahe the.” (Mirza’s men were harassing Y/N in Sadiq Market.)

The words land heavy.

Donga keeps going, careful, exact. He doesn’t exaggerate. He doesn’t soften it either. “Unhon ne kaha ab yeh ilake mein Rehman nahi raha, toh usse koi bachaane ke liye bhi nahi raha. Y/N ko roka. Uska duppata kheecha. Haath pakda bhai-” (They said now that Rehman is no longer in this area, there’s no one left to protect her. They stopped Y/N. Pulled her dupatta. Grabbed her hand, bhai-)

Rehman’s jaw tightens. Just once. “Aage.” (Go on)

“Woh nikal gayi” (She got out.) Donga says quickly. “Zinda hai. Akeli bhaagi. Kisi ne peecha nahi kiya jab log dikh gaye.” (She’s alive. Ran alone. No one chased her once people showed up.) A pause. Then, softer. Almost ashamed.

“Main ne… door se dekha, woh bhaag chuki thi.” (I watched from a distance… she had already run away.) Stillness. The room feels smaller. Thicker now with air uncomfortable. Rehman stands slowly, menacingly, like any sudden movement might shatter something inside him. He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t swear; That’s worse.

“Naam” (Names) he says.

Donga didn’t hesitate. He gives them. One by one. When he’s done, Rehman moves.

He was Angry. Focused.

“Gaadi nikaal” (Get the car out.) he barks. Donga moves immediately. As they head out, Donga hears Rehman mutter, so quiet it almost feels like it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Mere gair-maujoodgi ka faida uthaya un saalo ne.” (They took advantage of my absence, those scoundrels.)

This was no threat, this? was a death sentence.

A/N: HELLOOOO MY BEAUTIFUL AWESOME BABIES!!!! missed y'all so fucking much i wanted to update much earlier but damn life has a way to mess shit up for you, been on the struggle bus for a while now but crankin out a chapter helped. Sorry this chapter is abit long and pls look over any mistakes, hopefully it’ll make up for the delay in the update. As always, criticism and compliments are always appreciated, ALSO THIS WONT BE THE SECOND LAST CHAPTER, IM PROBABLY GONNA WRITE ANOTHER ONE BEFORE I WRITE THE FINAL ONE SO DONT WORRY THIS AINT ENDING JUST YET!!!!

A quick little blurb treat by me for all y’all waiting for TBKL part 3, idea shown to me by @mariaaysbusjs

WARNING: 18+ omg i cannot stress this enough if you’re not comfortable with smut do not read this blurb.

A/N: this isn’t related to TBKL, it’s just a headcannon completely unrelated to the ongoing fic and it’s story. Have this to read for fun while I work on part 3 ❤️

Fullfilled, that’s what you felt. Big, so fucking big, is all that rang in your dizzy head as spit dripped down the side of your stuffed mouth, same dripping feeling you felt between your legs, pussy weeping after being stuffed as well.

Big strong hands gripped the sides of your waist, another pair tugging at your hair, caressing your hollowed out cheeks. Groans rang though the room as Rehman grazed your cheek, smirking, wiping away a stray tear, he was unbelievably big, thick and veiny like you had never experienced before, and that arrogant motherfucker knew it, your throat was used and abused, couldn’t stop whimpering and gasping for air.

Meanwhile behind you, Uzair was losing his mind, you felt unreal around him, his length filled you up perfectly, your walls clamping down on him, squeezing him, so fucking tight for no goddamn reason. His hands flexed, grabbing at your hip, slowly moving from the sides to come up to your ass, squeezing, fingers definitely leaving marks in their wake.

Rehman slowly ran his hand over your head, feeling himself twitch inside your mouth everytime you moaned, he hissed, momentarily closing his eyes, and opening them back up, to meet his brother’s gaze, he nodded; and they began moving.

Uzair’s thighs slapped against yours as he kept his pace up, you gushed around his length, feeling the tip of his dick inside you, hitting just the right spot everytime he thrust into you, making you moan right around Rehman’s length, which in and of itself was a big task to handle, as he kept throat fucking the living daylights out of you.

Wet sounds filling the room, both brothers moved in a rhythm that you simply couldn’t keep up with, their soft touches over you and rough movements inside you, having you so close to cumming being your sole motivation to please them both, and honestly? You couldn’t wait to be more stuffed, more fullfilled.

A/N: AHAHAHAHA i hope you liked this i know it’s small it’s supposed to be like that it’s a freaking blurb bro. I’m working on part 3 thought i’d write this as a little token of appreciation for my horny little freak demon readers 😘 Also let me know (if you haven’t already) if you’d like to be tagged in the 3rd and final part of TBKL!!!

Anyways this was my inspo :

FUCKING TWO BAD BITCHES AT THE SAME DAMN TIME

SERIES: 

𝐑𝐞𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐧 (𝐃𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐡𝐚𝐫)

The Bastard King of Lyari (completed): 

Part I Part II Part III

Almost His (ongoing): 

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

ONESHOTS:

𝐑𝐞𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐧 (𝐃𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐡𝐚𝐫)

Fulfilled (Rehman and Uzair x Reader)

𝐀𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐞 𝐊𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚

Secrets (Akshaye Khanna x Actress!reader) Lights, camera, Love? (Akshaye Khanna x Actress!reader)