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A/N: Hello lovelies! Yes yes, this is not the final part of Ulfat as I had promised. I had said I would make the final part a songfic, but satranga is such a beautifully haunting song that it felt out of place in the happier AU. So this is the canon compliant fic I wrote instead. I am not even sure this is a songfic ( I am not even sure what a song fic is). A lot of its lyrics, I have put as imagery in here. And yep, its a Yalina PoV. I hope you guys like it!
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Yalina stared listlessly at the pool, her gaze fixed upon the still water without truly seeing it. The turquoise surface shimmered beneath the afternoon light, deceptively tranquil, as though the world had not just turned on its ear. Her heart felt impossibly heavy, so laden with grief that even drawing breath seemed an act requiring deliberate effort. The entire day ran in a relentless loop behind her eyes, each memory bleeding seamlessly into the next until she could no longer tell where one horror ended and another began. The corpse of that Indian man crashed against the white porcelain walls of her bathtub, staining the pristine ceramic with death. Aalam chacha's frantic eyes darting desperately across the room, searching for somethingāsomeoneābefore settling upon Hamza with such naked relief that it had almost broken her heart to witness. Then those same eyes, moments later, emptied of every trace of life after her husband had raised his gun and shot him without hesitation. Her husband's face, twisted with a rage so violent it seemed to intoxicate him more thoroughly than any liquor ever could. And now those same eyes, swollen, bloodshot, wet with tears, lifted towards her in silent supplication. Did he see it? Did he see her eyes too, just like all she had seen today in the eyes of the people around her? Had he seen the eyes of guests trained on her after his murderous actions? Did he see the devastation in her soul reflected back at him? Did her eyes mirror her own grief, or only the shame she could no longer outrun?
Shame. It sat beneath her ribs like rusted iron, corroding everything it touched. Shame at her own foolishness. Shame at how completely she had surrendered herself. Yet even as she condemned herself, another part of her knew the accusation was unfair. She had not simply been a fool. She had been made into one. Hamza... whatever his name truly was, whoever he had been, whatever truth hid beneath those names, he had been a master of lies. Not crude lies stitched together in haste, but exquisite ones, polished until they gleamed like the waves of a sea beneath sunlight. The sort of lies that were wrapped in poetry, dressed in tenderness, spoken so softly against her ear that even stone would have mistaken them for truth. She had been little more than a lonely, impressionable girl starving for affection, and he had known precisely how to feed the hunger that had lived inside her. She had never stood a chance.
"Half of the sky is yours, and the other half mine," he had whispered once, his forehead resting against hers, his voice carrying that impossible certainty which had always made her believe the future could be bent simply because he willed it, that a man who traded in blood and death could give her the life she wanted. "Together, we shall adorn the sky with the moon, bright as our love." She remembered smiling so hard that her cheeks had hurt, believing every impossible promise because she had believed him. Trusted him. It was only now, sitting amidst the wreckage of everything she had called her life, that she understood the cruel irony hidden inside those beautiful words. The moon possessed no light of its own. It merely reflected whatever the sun chose to lend it in alms. She had mistaken borrowed light for something eternal. She had mistaken the silver of his tongue for a promise of shared silver of their hair in old age. A folly on her part. Fool that she was.
"We shall have the moon, jaan," he had crooned another night, brushing kisses across her knuckles as though they were sacred relics. "But the only stars I need are yours and mine. The rest of the sky fades into nothingness when I look at you." How cherished she had felt then. How deeply loved. How utterly convinced that she had become the centre of someone's universe. Now, every syllable returned to mock her. The poetry remained beautiful, but the beauty had become a performative mockery even in her memories. All that remained in its place was shameāshame for believing him, shame for never questioning the fractures that had always existed beneath the polished surface, shame for mistaking careful manipulation for devotion. The words echoed in phantom through the cavernous silence of the glass house they had built together, bouncing endlessly from transparent walls until it seemed to seep into the marble beneath her feet. It no longer resembled a home. It resembled the broken remains of one, shattered so completely that every memory had become another jagged shard. She kept reaching instinctively for something intact amidst the ruins, only to feel those sharp edges slicing into her palms until she bled. Bled and bled and bled until the colour of her soul matched the stark red of her clothes. Red was her dress and red was her fate. Red is the blood on her husband's hands.
Husband.
She had spent years threading dreams around that single word. She had embroidered entire futures into itāshared mornings, whispered laughter beneath blankets, growing old beside the man she had chosen over everyone else. The word had wrapped around her like a favourite knitted sweater, soft from years of wear, carrying the scent of familiarity and comfort. She had felt like a queen. An emperor. Only now did she realise she had never been wrapped in warmth at all. While she had been dreaming of shelter, every thread had quietly frayed apart until the fabric disintegrated in her hands, leaving her standing naked against a merciless winter she had never seen coming. And oh how the emperor must have felt embarrassed when his illusion of clothes shattered and he realised he had stood stark naked amongst the people that were supposed to love and respect him. A king whose grandeur was as hollow as his life. Like her husband's sweet lies.
She could not bring herself to look fully at him. His eyes were swollen from crying, crimson veins spreading through bloodshot whites, tears carving damp paths along cheeks she had kissed countless times. She ought to have felt vindicated. She ought to have hated him. Instead, disgust curdled inside herābut not entirely because of him. It sickened her that some stubborn, traitorous corner of her heart still yearned to cross the room, gather his defeated body into her arms, smooth trembling hands through his hair, and hum gentle consolations until his breathing steadied. The instinct rose so naturally that it revolted her. What consolation could she possibly offer? I am sorry that the rainbow that you painted in my eyes have bled all of their colours in my tears? Or perhaps she should thank him insteadāfor teaching her how to smile while every part of her quietly learned the shape of grief. He had made a spy out of her. She had spied on her father for him. And today, she had learnt to lie masterfully to her father too. Today, her father had had no knowing glint in his eyes when she had told him that she was fine, that the blood and gunshots had not affected her. She had plastered a smile on her face and sent her father off while her head drowned in suspicions of her husband's duplicity and the maids cleaned blood from the once pristine floors of her home, and he had not suspected a thing. Would Hamza be proud of her? They say couples start resembling each other as time passes. It was true, she supposed. She was a liar, a cheat and an accomplice to her husband's act now, wasn't she? She had thought there had been no lie in her relationship. Oh! how wrong she was. There had been nothing but lies. Only lies. All lies.
Everything had become ash. Ash upon her tongue, turning every breath bitter. Ash filling her hands no matter how tightly she closed her fingers. She had burned every bridge that had once connected her to the life she knew simply to walk towards him, believing love would build another path beneath her feet. She had walked away from her father, her mother, her reputation, her privilege, the certainty of her future, and every dream that did not contain him because she had believed he was worth more than all of it combined. She had mistaken him for salvation when, all along, he had been a mirage shimmering above a desert that had always intended to consume her. Now she stood stranded within that endless wasteland, watching the ashes of her own life drift through the river of tears she wept over her shattered heart. Could anyone die of a broken heart? She wished she could. Her husband had not granted her the death she had begged from him. 'Finally, I have found something you refused to give me, Husband', she thought as she stared at his folded hands and lowered gaze.
"Betray me, and I will burn you."
She remembered saying those words with all the righteous certainty of youth, convinced that her love gave her that power over him. Had he laughed to himself afterwards? Had he looked upon the naĆÆve girl who believed she held power over him and seen nothing more than a trusting fawn eagerly tightening the noose around her own neck? Had every declaration, every vow, every trembling confession she had offered simply become another useful weapon stored away until the day he might need it?
The questions circled endlessly, each more poisonous than the last, yet one refused to leave her no matter how fiercely she wished it would.
Had he ever loved her at all?
She could not stop herself from sifting through the ruins of her memories, turning each one over with trembling hands as though somewhere beneath the soot she might still discover a fragment untouched by deceit. Every recollection demanded to be re-examined, every smile dissected, every lingering glance placed beneath the cruel light of suspicion. Unbidden, his words returned to her with infuriating clarity, spoken in that quiet voice she had once believed incapable of falsehood.
"People go to the Masjid to find peace, meri jaan. I need only lay my head in your lap to find mine."
The sentence wrapped itself around her thoughts until it became unbearable. Was that a lie too? She had smiled so foolishly when he had said it. She remembered stroking his hair while he lay there, believing herself blessed that a man who carried the weight of the world could rest so completely against her. She had never demanded poetry or grand declarations or impossible vows. She had only wanted honesty, and yet he had offered her an entire universe built from beautiful fabrications. Did you find peace in my lap because you dared not lie before Allah?, she wondered bitterly. Or was my lap simply easier? Was I more peaceful because I was easier to deceive? Because you knew that no matter how thoroughly you shattered my heart, I would still forgive you?
The questions clawed at her throat, yet none of them ever reached her lips. They remained trapped behind clenched teeth, burning hotter than any accusation she could have thrown at him.
Another memory rose before she could stop it, another promise spoken with that effortless certainty that had once dissolved every fear she possessed. "I would take all your pain upon myself. Every wound. Every sorrow. I would protect you from the world."
The words scraped against her chest until she wanted to scream. Aur mujhe tumse kaun bachayega, Hamza? Who was meant to protect her from the man who had sworn to shield her? She had never needed him to throw himself before bullets. She had never expected impossible sacrifices or heroic martyrdom. She had only wanted a husband who loved her enough to respect her, who would look at her without calculation hidden behind affection. For so many years she had believed she possessed exactly that, and more than that besides. She had believed herself blessed beyond measure. That certainty had wrapped around her life so completely that she had stopped imagining it could ever disappear.
Then the moon had lost its borrowed light, the illusion had dissolved, and when it disappeared it had not even left behind the comfort of truth. It had simply abandoned her in darkness. Duniya ko kabhi itni choot di hi nahi maine, ki woh mujhe zakhmi kar sake, Hamza, she thought with exhausted bitterness, woh taqat toh sirf tum mein thi.
"You are my world. If I wasn't meant to be yours, then I wouldn't be at all." She had spoken those words once with complete conviction, her forehead resting against his chest while he laughed softly into her hair and kissed the crown of her head. They had not been a performance. They had not been manipulation. They had been the purest truth she had ever offered another human being. The unbearable tragedy was that the sentence still remained true. She had never lied to her Hamza. Not once. He was still her world. He still held her heart in his bloodstained hands. Only now those hands no longer felt like sanctuary. They felt like prison bars wrapped around something already cracked beyond repair.
She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Sambhal kar, meri jaan. Kahin mere toote dil ke tukde tumhare haathon par ghaav na chhod dein.
How completely she had fallen. How eagerly she had surrendered every certainty she had ever possessed. Perhaps she truly had been the perfect victim for a man like him, because even after everythingāafter the blood, after the lies, after every cherished memory had been stripped naked and revealed as another carefully crafted deceptionāshe still loved him. God, she still loved him. Some pitiful, stubborn corner of her soul still waited for him to look at her and say that at least one thing had been real, that amidst all the masks and false names and betrayals, his love had somehow escaped untouched. She hated herself for wanting those words almost as much as she hated him for placing that hope inside her in the first place.
He was still her world, but she no longer wanted this world.
Her gaze wandered slowly across the house surrounding them. The polished marble floors. The floor-to-ceiling glass. The expensive furniture he had chosen because she had once paused a second too long before a similar design in a catalogue. The paintings he had commissioned because she had admired the artist's work. The kitchen where he had insisted on learning to make her favourite dishes despite being the leader of the most fearsome gang of Karachi. The nursery upstairs painted in soft blues because they had spent an entire evening arguing over colours while laughing so hard neither of them remembered who had won. Every corner carried his fingerprints. Every luxury had once whispered security.
Now the house looked unfamiliar, almost hostile.
HAMZA ALI MAZARI KA GHAR HAI YEH, the phantom scream of the shade of an enraged man, echoed in her head. And she wondered if she too was just another piece of furniture in his home, another thing to display his opulence and prowess. The white walls and the big windows taunted her, the open air from the verandah mocked her. What had once seemed like a window to allow all the sun in the world to warm their nest, now looked like a glass screen that projected her life like an entertaining anecdote to all and sundry.
Because every brick had been laid by a stranger. Every memory had been built by a man wearing a lie for a face. Was that even his face?
She loved him still, and yet she no longer wished to look upon him.
Would he truly let her leave, as he had promised she could? And if he did... where would she go? Which city existed where the echo of his promises would not follow her? Which street could she walk where his voice would not find her in the silence? She had made strangers of everyone who had once loved her. She had forced her father to bend to her demands, had spit in the face of her mother's acerbic advice and cut contact with every friend and relative who had scoffed at Hamza's humble origins, who had doubted his commitment to her. She had willingly erased every path that did not lead towards him until only one road remained beneath her feet. Now that road had collapsed, and she found herself standing in a world where every face reminded her of her folly, unable to remember how to find her way home.
Because Yalina no longer had a home.
She had believed love to be the sky and had fashioned herself into a bird, convinced that all she needed was enough courage to fly. Foolish, foolish Yalina. You were never the bird. You were always the sea. Meant only to bear the storms, brackish with the salt of your own tears, forever condemned to cradle only the reflection of the heavens without ever possessing them. The birds belonged to the sky. The clouds belonged to the sky. The rainbows belonged to the sky. Even the moon, with all its borrowed beauty, belonged to the sky. The sea received only thunderstorms and rain, wave after wave breaking itself against an indifferent shore until no one remembered where one ended and another began.
All she had ever asked for was love.
And yet she found herself poor in a way no beggar could ever understand. She had inherited wealth enough to never want for anything material, but never another person's heart. She had inherited fortunes instead of affection, status instead of belonging, appearances instead of honesty. She had been her father's heiress, her mother's shame, and, she now realised with a bitterness that made her throat ache, her husband's carefully maintained faƧade. Of them all, it was her husband who had been the cruelest, because he had first taught her what warmth felt like before extinguishing it beneath the cold tide of his lies.
What had she done to deserve this?
Was she truly so impossible to love that every person who claimed to do so had loved only the version of her that served them?
She had once promised to burn him should he ever betray her. The words had felt powerful then. Now she understood how empty they had been. She wished she possessed the strength to make good on that promise, but her heart had already revealed its weakness the moment she had failed to pull the trigger. One night. One blood-soaked floor. That was all it had taken for every happiness she had spent years collecting to collapse into dust.
Her gaze lowered to his trembling hands, fingers curled so tightly together they had turned ghostly white, and she found herself wondering what precisely he mourned. Did he regret the lies themselves, or merely that they had finally unraveled? Did her grief weigh upon him at all, or was his care only for the SP's suspicions? Had she ever truly occupied a place inside his heart, or had she always been another necessary pawn offered to a cause she would never understand? If someone demanded it tomorrow, would he leave behind this house, this life, this family without ever turning back? Had even Zayaan been another carefully checked box in a mission file? Did he love their son? Would it matter to him if anything happened to either of them?
He had offered explanations for espionage. For duty. For patriotism. He had spoken of nations and wars and obligations greater than himself.
He had offered nothing for what he had stolen from her.
Nothing for what he had broken.
Her fingers curled unconsciously against her own palm as one thought cut through every other. Zayaan. Her son was all she had left that no revelation could take away from her. Every smile he gave her had been real. Every sleepy embrace. Every tiny hand reaching instinctively for hers. Whatever else had been built upon lies, her child's laughter had never been counterfeit. He was the only thing left in this world that belonged wholly to truth.
If she lost him too, there would be nothing left inside her worth saving.
At last she spoke, her voice so quiet that it scarcely disturbed the silence stretching between them.
"Dhyan rahe, Hamza... in sab mein mere bacche ko kuch nahi hona chahiye."
His shoulders convulsed violently, both hands flying upward to cover his face as another sob tore free of him, and before she could stop herself she felt something ugly unfurl inside her chest. It was not satisfaction. It was not happiness. It was something darker, meanerāa vicious sliver of vindication that whispered he deserved to feel the pain of rejection, which was barely a fraction of what now lived inside her. She had not spoken those words intending to wound him. She did not dare presume either herself or her son secure enough within his heart to presume that he would protect them. Afterall, he had claimed to love Aalam Chacha and had shot him easily enough. He was from his country, Yalina and Zayan did not even have that grace, afterall. Yet seeing him fold beneath the crushing weight of her distrust soothed the clawed creature that had been tearing through her ever since the truth had surfaced. Until this evening there had been no one she had trusted more completely than Hamza.
Now there existed no one she distrusted more.
She wanted to continue. She wanted to keep speaking until every carefully chosen word cut him open, until he bled beneath the weight of everything he had done to her, until he understood that some wounds did not heal simply because the guilty finally wept over them.
But Yalina was tired.
Tired of hoping. Tired of losing. Tired of gathering the shattered pieces of herself only to watch them splinter again. Tired of remaining upright when all she truly wished to do was collapse and mourn the woman she had been before this evening had stolen her forever.
She heard his laboured breathing behind trembling fingers, each ragged inhale filling the silence between them, but she forced herself to keep looking towards the firepit where only dull grey embers remained. They had surrendered their warmth long ago, yet she stared at them anyway, feeling an absurd urge to move closer.
Perhaps even the memory of warmth was enough.
After all, Yalina had always known how to survive on warmth that had never truly belonged to her. She had simply forgotten what that felt like because Hamza had spent years convincing her she no longer needed to.
Now she would have to remember.
Hamza had made certain of that.
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Masterlist
A/N: I hope this qualifies as a songfic, its not a long one. I know, usually, you add the song into the fic or actively use the lyrics in the fic. But that was interfering with the flow of the story and I wasn't fully sure I liked the way it looked. Its a little angsty, kyunki I have been listening to the song for two days now. Vanga is an arse, but has top music choices. If this doesn't look like a song fic, I am so sorry. I have the next part of Ulfat ready too, and so too do I have the next chapter of The Second Chance, but I am not happy with it. So imma take a break. You might already know about it by the time this goes live, tbh. Anyway, I hope anon likes it.
Taglist : @bway43 @iolahardy-blog @ai-manre @harrystyleskiwi9 @misteriadare @dumbassdictionarysds @tanipartner @mujhegharjaanahai @faebutterflygayaf @mainyahaankyunhoon @eagleflieshighinthesky @browniemilkies @araasa @bitchy-bi-trash @adirasenraizada @legendmoonstone @dil-ibaadat @luvmaii @weepingbastiontwilight @speedyturtleprincess @sunxister21 @willowsgoldenhour @blossomedfloweroflove @misteriadare @pallavi-sharma @roohafterdark @khoonaurkhanjar @theshadowsdiva @luvmaii @saysayy19 @unknownuserhehe @zoyslair @pavbhajisupremacist @sayantika200-3 @laal-pari @batata04 @yasu30 anyone in the taglist doesn't wish to be tagged, just hmu on the messages and I will edit it out. If you asked to be tagged and I forgot to do so, please just remind me again, I am a goldfish. If you want to be tagged, also, just say so and I will do it for the next update.
some of you guys have messaged me asking if the next chapter of ek tha sher is coming up soon and i must admit that i am very thankful that you are this excited for the fic thank you so much !! however, i would like to apologise as well as i have started my degree now and i enrolled 5 weeks late so i am busier than ever. i would like to ask you guys to pls be patient for a month or so and i promise i will start updating after my finals !!
however, i will be leaving you guys with something which is a little sneak peak at what the fic is going to be about. Hamza is a top commander at BLA aka baloch liberation army and my y/n is a very spoiled daughter of someone very influential (im edging u guys on this one). something happens or rather a series of events happen and then hamza kidnaps y/n and yk . blablabla they fall in love (but only of them is willing to aknowledge it) and then something happens. and then something else happens. boom! almost! lovers to enemies. forbidden romance. star-crosses lovers. all that jazz.
Yalina is probably one of the most underrated characters in the film. I rarely see people do character sketches for her and itās probably because the lack of screen time given to her especially in the second film. I was kinda disappointed with her character in D2 because she is so much more than what was made of her in the second film and also because Sara has made me her fan with her portrayal of Yalina. I judge an actor not according to their screen time but how well they are able to portray their characterās emotions and make it memorable for the audience especially when they have a small screen time. Also Saraās eye acting is pretty strong, girl had no dialogues in her last meet scene with Hamza and she made me feel every single emotion she was feeling, the sadness of knowing Hamza is off to his last mission slowly turning to relief knowing he intends to come back and move to Vancouver with her. Itās not easy making a place for yourself among all those acting giants and she did it with such ease. In fact both Saumya and Sara left a huge impact on the audience with the least amount of screen time and dialogues they had.
Now coming to my girl Yalina, I feel horrible for her. She really has no one in her corner. Her dad is an Indian spy and she has no idea of it, if ever there comes a point that Jamali has to choose between Yalina and India, he will choose India. She has lived an entire life not even knowing her fatherās true name. And itās not like she lived an easy life, of course she was born into money and will never have to care about money ever in her life with how much she is gonna inherit from both her dad and husband, but she never felt love growing up, her dad was too busy in politics and making sure Dawood will never live a healthy life and her mom doesnāt come across as particularly loving. Then she finally meets a guy who loves her for who she is and gives her the freedom she so wanted. He also is the reason she is not married to an annoying burger baccha. She loves him, marries him, has a baby with him and then comes to know that he used her all along. She doesnāt even know his real name but still protects for years by not revealing his secret and when everything is probably getting normal after a long time, he is taken from her. She probably blames herself for his arrest. Only if she hadnāt told Omar, her husband, the father of her child, the man she loved would be here. Now all she is left with is Zayan who is just a baby.
I kinda wished dhar gave her a better story line. I just donāt think of Yalina as a character to be so meek as she was in the second film. She came across as a strong girl in the first one.
Also, I know many people think Yalina will be fine she is young and rich and can get married later on but I just donāt see that happening. I mean she met Hamza when she was 17, married him when she was 19, and lived her entire life loving him, he was the centre of her universe. Also there relationship at the end of the film is so deep to move on easily, like she is the only person in pakistan who knows Hamzaās real name apart from Rizwan (I donāt know if RAW used code names while training their spies or not) and Hamza is the only one who knows that she is the daughter of an Indian spy. She kept his secret for 7-8 years, that is a very long time. I sort if wished she was extracted with Hamza because she and Zayan are only safe till Jamali is alive and even that is not a guarantee, what happens after he passes away. ISI already knows Hamza is a spy so they might think there are other spies too and their suspicion would go to the closest ones near him like Yalina, Jamali, Rizwan, just like they suspected Hamza after Alam.
Thank you for writing Mother and now that you are planning spy yalina, I am so happy this character will get more chance to be fleshed out because frankly Yalina has so much potential.
Hello Anon ji!
So true bro. And I do think that her character in fanfics is unexplored because the series itself leaves her underexplored. And tbh, with how much build up the trailers gave, her character kindaā¦meeked out, which imo was not necessary. I see the need for a straight-forward and uncomplicated screenplay when you are making a masala-action flick, par I wish we saw more of her, her spunk was almost gone, and it only came out to rail against Hamza for a lil bit before it was gone. Girlie pop just let Omar walk away. I fully expected her Papa ki pari rich brat arse to call Jameel and be like āyour pet SP just hijacked my house and threatened my son, get rid of him, I want him to sufferā, cus she grew up as the only daughter of a man who willingly married her to a gunda despite the dink in his reputation for doing so..just because she wanted it. No way Jameel was not a āaapki marzi, betaā dad. Sara truly made me feel attached to her as Yalina, one of the main reasons I donāt face claim any other actress for her even when I age her up in my fics. I cannot imagine a different Yalina. And Saumya was fucking phenomenal, I had seen her in BGPH and had overlooked her in front of Shilpaās loud acting. I was freaking wrong, she is ah-mazing! Both of them are such good expression actresses. I hope their future is even brighter and I see them more on the big screen.
And coming to Yalina, she is the only true Masoom character in the movies, outside of the kids and Ulfat, and definitely the only one when it comes to the main players.. Like yes, she will not face monetary hardships, but any person who has had even a whiff of life knows that problems and grief are not always relegated to money-related stuff. I will always ache for her tragic fate, because as I said, I donāt see her moving on, I donāt see her ever getting out of Hamzaās shadow, simply because I think Yalina loves too hard for anything else. And I agree with the extraction thing so much, cus half of ISI knows Yalina knew he was a spy, gosh dang it, mentally unstable Omar with something to prove knows that Yalina knew. They are easy targets, aur extract toh unhe karna hi hai, why not give the poor folks a happy ending. Like I love and respect Dhar sahabās ending, but I wish we got something that wasnāt just grief upon grief upon grief, yk? As it stands, the movie is one of the bleakest endings I have seen. You and me, both wish we had more, but Dhar sahab made a call, and Zayan and Yalina were the cost paid to keep a country safe in the universe he built. Which might even reflect reality, no matter how I wish it wasn't so. Khair ( doing a lot of khair-ing recently lmao). I hope you have a good day, dear. I will go and cry tho. I hope spylina is as good as you guys are expecting.
a/n- based on this request, a very small gift for @luvmaii/ @itsnotmai for no reason below the second line breaker( sorry if this is creepy hehe)
Trigger Warning- 18+, disabled!reader, dub con if you squint reall hardd,rough sex, drunk sex, angst, lots of plot with porn NOT PROOF READ!
Note- This is a fanfic in no means meant to glorify people like the real Uzair baloch its just that Danish is too freaking hot!
word count - 6.69k
The sun was relentless upon everyone who decided to step foot outside in Lyari today, and that everyone included Uzair ,Uzair - whose whole day had been getting out of Lyari and then getting back in, get scolded by Rehman on the phone and have Hamza laugh on him and his last straw was not finding the thick wad of cash he left on the table, that one table that was the first thing to you clashed with when you entered Rashid's crowded house. He had put it there not even half an hour ago went back to retrieve his gun and it was gone.Ā
He had enough breaking out in a loud snap, slamming his ring adored hand on the scraped, old surfaceĀ ā BHENCHOD DIMAAG KHARAB HAI KYA TERA! PAISE KHA GAYEāĀ he heard a squeak maybe a mice maybe a cat, then saw the shadow move quick hiding behind a wall. Rashid was fourty how he couldn't imagine that old man sounding like this but he was frustrated and came another exparated string of curses from his side. ā CHUTIYAN HAI KYA?? Mai kya yaha aankh micholi khelna aaya hoon?āĀ
You were once a shivering six year old sit on the dirty sit, with a desolated look stuck to your eyes, that seemed to stare at nothing among the swarm of people crossed by some looked at you with pity some with disgust at your matted hair and half torn clothes, a child who belonged nowhere in this world before Rashid picked you off that dirty street for once and for all settling you forever into his small house and heart.Ā
You were twenty now, a girl who wouldn't go to sleep if your cushion wasn't fluffed properly, if your abbu didn't kiss you good night and held you in his arms once the whole day, Rashid has spoiled you to an impeccable amount that your eyes would well up the second somebody even looked at you wrong.Ā
You peeked your head out from behind the wall, eyes teary from the way he shouted at you. Uzair stopped frozen in place, he was not expecting a girl not at all never in his 26 years of life he had been so star struck. You stared up at him with those big almond eyes, tears sitting heavy on your eyelashes , the silhouette of your body visible from the light that illuminated from behind, showing the slope of your waist underneath that plain white cotton kurti. The delicate line of your shoulder bones on display along the plunging neckline that showed the area untouched by the sun.
Ā ā C-C-Chilla.. K-kyu rah-rahe hoon?āĀ
You sniffled in the most adorably heartbreaking voice, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. He noticed the stammer believed it to be from fear of him, oh but you were offended more than you were scared of this khamba that invaded your house, that he dared speak to you in a decibel so high and used words so filthy.Ā
ā Sā¦ sorry tum roo matā he muttered out harshly, hand going to rub the back of his neck in a nervous manner.
āG-G-Galti aapki thi-p-paise aa-aapke hai ya abbu ke mujhe k-k-kaise pata hogaā Abbu? Since when did Rashid got married and had a kid, well and Rashid was not exactly the āhandsomeā kindĀ but the girl in front of him..breathtaking and arguing with him with her mouth fumbling over after almost every word. āRashid ki beti hoo tum?ā You nodded stepping out from behind the wall in his full view, he eyed you up and down you did not look any younger than 20, and which you were.Ā
ā Hum mei se toh kisi ko bhi nahi pata tha, shaadi kab hui uskiāĀ
ā Shaadi nahi hui baba ki, a-ad-adopted huāĀ
āAccha tabhiĀ varna Rashid ki shakal-ā
ā Mere baba ke baare mei kuch mat bolo! Ek to-toh m-m-mere pe ch-chilla r-rahe ho, id-id-idiot kahikeā You sniffled again, the complaint on your face growing showing in the pout of your lips the way your cheeks puff up. Its not the first time he had been called idiot before, with Rehman on the phone he had heard more colorful words than this so he let it pass, but what was he supposed to do? He did not mean to shout at a girl, and what was he to do really when you were looking at him like you need to be pampered or would die any second from the hurt of him rising his voice.
Ā ā Ab toh rona band kar doāĀ
āK-Kyu meri m-ma-marziāĀ
ā Tum aise hi baat karti hoon ya mujhe dekh ke bol rahi ho?āĀ
Uzair noticed the pause of your breath, those shoulders shrinking a little, the childish tantrum replaced with what looked like genuine sting, he had something wrong again, for the third time to you now. He watched the way your gaze would drift from one corner to another deliberately ignoring his large frame in the middle avoiding him quietly.
ā Sorryā he muttered for something he did not understand yet, ā A-aa-aap-aap keā You shook your head biting your tongue in resentment, the words jumbling in your mouth and no matter how hard you tried you would stumble upon them and it made you feel miserable sometimes like you weren't as witful as the ānormal' peopleĀ
ā Aa-aa-aā Tears of frustration glistened in your eyes, embarrassment at the fact that you couldn't even get the simple words out and what he would think. Uzair walked closed stopping a inches away from, patient not interrupting till you had gathered enough breath to try again, āA-A-aap ke p-paise-ā Your voice cut off itself dying in your throat, Uzair didn't move not a word, just watching down at you impassively, calmly waiting for you to finish the statement without any judgement or question for your condition. His gaze steadied you, finally the sentence leaving your mouthĀ
āAape ke p-paise main rakhe h-h-hai, ab-abhi laayiāĀ
he did not nod, his hand going to wipe the new teardrop forming at the end of your eyes with a gentle-ness that felt illegal considering the man he was, only when he was up so close you realised how stunning he was, how much he looked like a man in comparison to the boys you have met, how his palm swallowed whole of your face. How his rough hand cupped your cheek
ā Paise baad mei le lunga, tumhe kya pasand hai kulfi ya golgappe?āĀ You blinked hearing the seriousness of his tone, ā Dono pas-pasand haiā whispering you met his eyes, those coffee brown eyes the colour as benign as the warmth he radiated.Ā
āAwaaz bahut pyaari hai tumhaari, dono pasand hai toh fir dono hi lene padegeā You smiled noddingĀ
From the first interaction it was clear, that you two had grown more closer than the time allowed you to be,Ā
Making out whenever his meetings was close to you or in your Abbuās house but soon enough Uzair realised he wanted more from the rare visits he gave to your town, more than the talks on the call so he rented out a small flat or what they called a kabootar khaana kilometres away from your home, so he could have you all to himself, naked and bare for him to devour and when done he would hold you close tucked into his chest, one hand caressing your sore back other nursing a cigarette.Ā
His distance would have not bothered you if it wasn't for the fact that he still had not declared his love for you, and it was true you both started out without the normal confessions that couples had and that truth was settling into your heart in a heavy ache. You two were fooling and that was all there was to it, for you to have given in so easily was not exactly men expect to happen in a sincere relationship.Ā
You shuddered clinging clumsily at his sweat slick back, āBas Basā You whined, digging your nails into the muscles.He chuckled pressing his forehead against yours, finally pulling out of your overstimulated womanhood. You quickly found yourself in your usual spot nuzzling into his broad chest till your breath became even and the high of your orgasm wore off,Ā
āKabhi doctor ko dikhaya hai tune?ā
Ā ā Kya bol rahe ho? Koi bi-bim-bimaari thodi hai joh d-da-dawai se thee-theek ho jayengiā You stammered tracing circles on his scarred skin.Ā
Ā ā Are vaise nahi ā¦ in sab cheezo ke bhi doctor hote haiā He paused, taking one last blow from his cigarette before crushing out the cherry on the bedsheets. ā Sach mei?ā ā Haan, maine bhabhi se pucha thaāĀ āKaunse doctor ke paas jaana hogaā ā Voh mai dekh lunga , phle mere saath practice karā ā P-P-Practise?ā He nodded, pulling away just enough so he could reach into the drawer to obtain a small colorful book that looked like the one they handed out to children.Ā
āYeh k-k-kya hai?ā
Ā He huffed, pulling you close again, placing the book in your close palm till you finally held it.
Ā ā Is se hum practice karengeā
Ā You did not understand what he meant and youĀ were even more confused after openingĀ it , it was a simple kids book with short stories and tongue twisters
. ā I-Is-Iska kya useāĀ
ā Kal se tumhare doctor ke saath session hoge, yahi paas mei clinic hai
ā ā W-wait kya?ā
Ā ā Kyu tumhe doctor ko nahi dikhana?āĀ
ā N-N-nahi par mai samjhi nahiā
Ā You chuckled awkwardly watching the bright colors of the book. He didn't laugh, just pressed you closer gently guiding you to start reading and as much as you were embarrassed you were also curious to what he was trying to do, ā Araam se read karna hai theek haiā He mumbled over your hair, and you started stuttering over every few words, and whenever you would he ask you to slow down your pace even more take a three second break to recollect your thoughts and start over again, praising you without words when you completed without stumbling over the words you were rewarded with a kiss to your cheek or head,Ā
Being coddled was not new for you, your father has been doing that ever since he found you on that street, countless days spent in curled up in his lap and for a time that was your world you and your dad, you could not well and school or form a connection with anyone too scared with the scrutiny that came with your condition ending up with almost no one to call friend at this age, and when Uzair stepped in completely unbothered by everything that you thought made you feel less than others you wretchedly swayed, finding yourself craving to be in the arms of a man who still had not voiced out his feeling and that was if he had any.Ā
The small forum continued for the times he would visit you, thrice in a month other than that he would be on the phone at late night, the only free time he would find and scold you into practising what the doctor taughtĀ for another 15 minutes no matter how hard you whined.
Uzair had gone out of the way, planning meticulously so your father landed in Lyari occupied and busy while he made his way to you. You had never had a night out reasonably so you had no friends and your Abbu was too tired from work when he came back to entertain your idea of going out late. He insisted to take you to meet his friends to which you and as patent as the clear sky you refused the idea to go out and do the big word āsocialiseāĀ
But his charms and āPlease na meri jaanā had you melting and in a loud club with flashing lights, which you complained was giving you a headache so now you and his two friends were outside, sitting on the stairs with heavy liquor bottles in their hands. You shuffled awkwardly in pulling at the hem of your kurti, Uzair one hand draped over your shoulders.Ā
There sat a tanker of a man in front of you, his tanned skin dewy and shimmering under the light that escaped from the closed door of the club behind you, long locks tied half into a perfect bun that put your hair to shame, Hamza your boyfriendās(?) bestfriend, and a girl that was lounging in his lap, her short dress riding up her thighs giggling, taking directs sip from the bottle and Hamza was entranced with a quiet calm intensity watching her throw her head back in a loud laugh, āBas ab Maiā he tried to take the bottle from her hand but she just shook her head side to side, pouting.Ā
You felt massively underdressed, watching her sequined mid thigh dress appropriate for the occasion and then back at your kurti and salwar. You continued watching nervously till she started persuading him with small pecks to the face, you lowered your gaze and as if the situation wasn't dizzying enough Uzair found the crook of your neck to kiss and suck at. ā U-Uzair!ā you exclaimed, he smirked trying to pull you into his lap despite theĀ squirming. Your cheeks flush red unable to meet anyone eyes in this position ā Mujhe bhi aisi dress chaiyeā You whispered against his shirt, ā Kal mall se dilwa dungaā The thunder rumbled outside making you hide further into him.Ā
ā Mau-Mausam theek nahi l-l-lag raha hai, ghar chalte haiā You murmured he was about to reply before Hamza called him out, ā Tu kyu nahi pee raha bhai?ā āDrive karke in mohtarma ko ghar chorna haiā he chuckled, pulling at your cheeks.Ā
Mai passed you an unused flask with a slobbery smile, ā Tum bhi try karoā Your eyes shot up switching between her and Uzair ā Pee le kuch nahi hogaā Uzair took the flask in your stead, you eyed the unfamiliar liquid from the small opening the smell strong and pungent, he gave you an encouraging nod and you sipped it just a little immediately pulling back with your face scrunched up at the strong strong unpleasant smell. ā Eee yeh toh bahut ganda haiā ā Try kar na, dhang seā you instantly tried to get off his lap seeing that convincing look on his face. ā Ek aur sip leke toh dekhā he held the cold flask to your lips, for a second you hesitated before gulping down more than a spoonful this time, the aftereffects showed swiftly, eyes going hazy the warmth flooding your stomach. ā Mujhe ghar le chaloā Your voice got lower and you tried and found an anchor in Uzair at the alien feeling that was making your head spin. ā Aree itne mei se chadh gayi?ā he patted your cheek, smiling at you fondly.Ā
Uzair continued small talk for a few more minutes with Hamza about their next shipments, while you grew more restless in his arms. ā Koi nahi ghar chale jao, isko bhi neend aa rahiā Hamza pointed at Mai who was half asleep half drooling at his shoulder. Uzair pocketed the almost full liquor bottle, helping you walk back into the car with now the few rain droplets grazing your skin.Ā
Your legs felt heavy and airy at the same time, the giggles youĀ expected did not come only a nervy queasiness in your gut, ā Gh-Gharā āTabyet toh theek hai naā he asked softly brushing back the damp strand of air from your face and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. He got into a car, working the steering with one hand smoothly making you press your legs together tight to soothe some of the uninvited arousal. He looked so handsome today, beard trimmed, the fresh hair cut at the perfect length you liked and the first few buttons of his shirt open and inviting to his broad hairy chest. You reached out from the passenger seat running your hand over the span of his peck, he halted abruptly the car skidded on the muddy road crashing with the tree in front.Ā
The impact was minimal because Uzair had stopped in time but the car was not starting anymore, he sighed shifting in his seat, ā Yeh kya kiya?ā āPata n-nahiā You withdrew your hand at the small hiss in his tone. ā Kya yaar!ā he exclaimed loudly slamming his hand on the dashboard. Your eyes welled up instantly, yes it was your fault yes it could have been fatal but he just shouted at you āJaan bujh ki thodi karaā You sniffled, and his shoulders relaxed slumping back into his seat.Ā
ā Ek toh shakal aur awaaz itni pyaari hai gussa bhi nahi kiya jaata tujhe pe, agli baar se mat kariyo theek haiāĀ he sighed again going for the flask that he tucked away earlier, ā Yeh kya ka-kar raho h-ho? Drive kaun k-karega?ā āAb drive karne ke liye gaadi bhi toh chalni chaiyeā ā Mechanic bola doā ā Itni baarish aur raatĀ mei kaun aayega meri jaan, kya bol rahi hoonā his throat bobbed draining out all the liquid from the flask in one go
You watched him hungrily before crawling into the backseat, he didn't notice for a moment, eyes shut feeling the alcohol kick into his system just heard you rustle around finally snapping his eyes open when he didn't feel your warmth beside him on the passenger.
Uzair looked back to find you looking small against the sturdy backseat, staggering to pull of your kurta. He moved so fast, slamming open and closing the front door loudly crowding the backseat with you, āKya kar rahi haiā he rasped, helping you pull it off,Ā and instantly going to grope your chest, squishing the flesh under his rough palm. You gasped latching onto his neck trailing kisses along the line of his beard covered jaw before crashing your lips with his. He instantly pressed your back into the seat, moaning into your mouth tongue and teeth clashing together in intoxication, the smell of cinnamon and alcohol flooding your senses, ā Uzairā you moaned just as feverish as him, legs spreading wide to accommodate his hips.
He humped a few times, releasing your mouth to take staggered breath before diving right back again devouring you with his tongue, you shuddered with each roll of his hips his clothed crotch rubbing against yours in fast impatient movements, the fabric of your salwar damp thats why you wanted short dress like that too, so he could just lift it up and slide right in but now you had this flimsy cloth in between you and him.Ā
The rain drummed and clashed loudly against the the car body, the water and the your shared bated breath fogging up the already tinted window, he quickly unfastened the knot and pulled down your salwar watching into your eyes for approval, you on the other hand had started palming his dick over the fabric, whining for him to to just thrust inside, as much as Uzair wanted to do it, he knew he had to prepare you beforehand. He pressed his finger into your pliant mouth, groaning at the sensation of your tongue sucking at it, pursing your lips closed around the thick long digits when he felt it was sticky enough he flicked your clit once before jamming two fingers into your insides.Ā
You scratched at the leather, your wetness squelching loudly around his fingers as he started scissoring and fucking your cunt with his hand, pushing deep till his knuckles brushed at your lips. You bucked your hips , your fluids spurting and trickling down his forearms. His eyebrows burrowed in restraint before his resolve finally broke, undoing the buttons of his trouser with a shaky hand. His hard length springed out slapped at your stomach, you braced yourself for his invasion but it still always knocked the air out of lungs. He was gifted in both length and girth and that made sense for as why you always need a few seconds to adjust before he really started pounding into you, but he wasn't in mood for patience today and started moving his hips in quick snaps refusing to pull out more than an inch, mushing up your insides.Ā
His nipped at your earlobe in a desperate attempt to stop himself from breaking you but his body and mind worked differently, while he at least tried to control himself his hands had already wrapped around the whole span of your waist and stomach to thrust in and out without the interruption of you flailing even a little. Your nails dug half crescent moon into his back alcohol numbing the faint paint in your abdomen and all you wanted was for him to be closer and closer till all you could feel was his breath , the throb of his cock inside you till the harsh rain was nothing but a blur in your ears.Ā
You tried to meet his jabs in a clumsy but eager movement, tugging at his hair till he understood you needed to be kissed again.Your folded one leg one wrapping around his waist to make space for both of you on the seat, for him to have all the access he needed to ruin you. He thrusted in deep grinding his hair covered crotch at your clit.Ā He was sloppy so were you,uncaring of the mixed spit that dripped down your chin to the hollow of your neck , if anything Uzair left the warmth of your mouth to trace the evidence with his tongue his movements stilling as his focus diverged from the enrapturing scent of your body.Ā Ā
You tsked in frustration, āUzair uthoā You slapped his cheek lightly, breaking into a moan when he buried himself to the hilt, resting all his weight into you. ā Uzair yaar p-pleaseā He grunted sucking hickies into your neck, he didn't move and eventually his head also lolled down into the shoulder,inhaling your scents in deep breaths and the worst part he didn't let you move either using you as a cock sleeve. Keeping you still with his suffocatingly huge length pulsing inside your cunt, raw and overwhelming.
You couldn't handle this cockwarming not at all, but he wouldn't budge his grip iron solid at your waist, hard enough to leave behind a lingering bruise so you shoved at his chest till his back hit the window. You straddled his sturdy thighs, positioning your slickness over his tip and sinking down at a pace you couldn't handle yourself, eyes rolling back at the fullness and sensation of him plummeting into your stomach, hands finding leverage at his shoulder . ā Uzairā your voice was so honey dew he almost came right there, before he could thrust up you started bouncing up and down naively on his cock moving like a mindless bunny, your plump ass cheeks slapping against his thigh when you slid down his thickness.Ā
Uzair whimpered himself, hands tangling in your hair to stop your hasty movements ā Meri jaan araam seā you glared at him offended, clutching harder into his shoulder till it hurt and doubled your efforts till you hit your g spot yourself and mewled unable to handle the game you started yourself, he saw the opportunity grasping , locking you in between his arm ramming into you from below with sheer force. Your gummy walls clamped down on him hard, hard enough he knew he needed to finish inside you. ā Yes yes please fuck yesā With eachĀ thrust grazing at your sweet spot it didn't take you long to shed all over him, whimpering nonsense into his ear to keep going. He obliged to your crying requests, still rutting into you with harsh quick movements breaking you and him completely till you and him are too absorbed to notice or stop him from releasing inside your unprotected womb.Ā
When you woke up, you were slumped against his shoulder and smiled at how innocent he looked when asleep. Rubbing your hand over the thick seat ofĀ his eyebrows, watching that beautiful scrunch up a little before easing under your touch. Your heart felt lighter than it has in years even if your head hurt and thighs cramped, it took for the sleepiness to wear off for you to realise he is still inside, half hard and that he never pulled out.Ā
You quickly scrambled back calculating the date to remember the time of your periods, holding back tears while wiping the evidence of his load still inside you and dripping down your thighs. He stirred awake watching your shivering back as you worked to clean yourself down there,
ā Jaanu kya hua? Mai kar deta hoon na saafā
He watched with that still patient voice that made your heart ache,
ā K-koi jarurat nahi U-Uzair, ho-hogya sa-saafā he hummed sleepily, burying his face in your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin. āKaam thoda zyada, shayad baat na ho paaye matlab mai thode waqt busy rahungaā ā Call toh karoge na?ā āBaloch mei signal aagya toh haan, nahi karunga toh naraaz mat ho jaanaā He kissed the ridge of your spine that prodded at your back, ā Kab tak aaoge milneā ā 10 din? 20? Shayad mahina lag jayega ekā āohā you breathed, hiding the disappointment and fear in your face. ā Doctor ke paas jaana mat bhulna, mai vaapis aake test lunga tumharaā he joked to which you only smiled bitterly.Ā
One month had passed in silence from his side except from the one call you received on the tenth day, the duration being not any more than two minutes and you still couldn't bring yourself to say it, the things you had been hiding him from him throughout the course of your relationship, the mishap you knew and the other part of you that hid from and did not understand yourself. You dropped your visits from the hospital drowning in the fear that forestalled to swallow you whole.Ā
Not only did your stutter get worse, you lost all the progress you made over time and old problem- the one you didn't even dare to mention to Uzair showed through once again at dinner in front of your father when he asked you how you had been feeling these days, your body shut down mouth refusing to work. Your abbu understood in a heart beat, rubbing his wrinkled hand down your break till you finally allowed yourself to take a breath.Ā Ā
It was fairly easy to hide it from Uzair because he wasn't with you physically most of the time and for the time he was, you had been at ease but this old adversary was taking root in your body once again after years.
A stammer might have been still passable in the eyes of society and Uzair but how would he react to this? A condition you couldn't decipher yourself refused to share with your speech therapist that sometimes your voice would cut off itself, that you could not speak at all times. He came from a privileged family, he had no need for a disabled lover and he could just leave you at any time; it's not like anyone would question him.
You stood trembling in your bathroom, your period had been two weeks late, the white strip rested on your quivery hands not finding enough courage to look down to see what was to come next. The two red line stared back at you and your world went blank, you moved mechanically grabbing your purse putting on your sandals. ā Itni duphar mei kaha jaa rahi hai aap?ā Your father called out gently at the sound of the shoe rack opening. Turning off the stove to find you on the floor forcing your foot into the leather. ā Kya hogya y/n?ā You didn't reply, checking your purse again for enough change and your cell phone, ā Beta kya hua hai?ā ā MU-MUJHE AAPSE BA-BAAT NAHI K-K-KARNI ABBU! Please mu-mujhe akel-akela chor doā You snapped and instantly regretted seeing the tears forming in his eyes. āAb-abbuā you bit back your words, leaving the house with a heavy heart.
Sitting on the auto you ringed his number a thousand times, tapping your feet anxiously. You knew how much your father admired the men he worked for, how much he admired the Baloch brothers and would have been more than happy to give his daughter to you if he asked for marriage and there was no point in hiding this relationship unless he never wanted to continue it. You couldn't breath, the green screen of the cell phone turning blurry in your vision. āUzair Uzair UzairāĀ
The hospital air was sterile and the test didn't take long, before the reality crashed down on you were really pregnant with his child, your brain has stopped working, you looked at the doctor and back to your cell phone to see he still had not called back.You have changed a place far enough that the word doesn't reach your neighbourhood
Ā ā Yeh abo-ab-abortion ke liye f-f-form bha-bharna tha, abhi mere sh-sh-sh-shauhar nahi hai saath meiā¦.nahi aye ..ne-ne-next t-ti-tim-timeā
You clutched the paper in your hand till it crumbled into a ball, you couldn't face your father like this, not the man who raised you with so much love afraid at how you have defamed his name like this, ashamed of what you had done. You stopped the auto at the kabootar khaana- your and Uzairās safe haven,Ā you threw the paper, watched it loud on the shelf and started taking heavy breaths.
The shower door opened with a click, you were already struggling to breathe and at the sound of it your breath catched, Uzair was here already ā Are jaanu tujhe kaise pata chala mai aagyaā You gave him a sheepish smile , body going stiff. āPh-Phone kyu nahi -u-uthaya Uzair?ā ā Naha raha tha sunai nahi diya hogaā He raised his eyebrows in amusement walking out completely naked and without an ounce of shame ā Kya hua dar toh aise hi rahi hai jaise kisi aur se milne aayi thiā he inhaled deeply licking the side of your neck without a word.
ā Yaad aa rahi thi teriā He squeezed your face and you still haven't moved, not even reacted other than a nervous nod, it wasn't hard to tell that something was off and the way your eyes kept flickering to the wall , where the self was.Ā
He was also starving to touch you, feel you after he had not not for more than a whole month now so he did what he was yearning to do, shoving you against the wall capturing your tender lips with his, the water from the shower still trickling down his skin catching on your lips in between. āKya hua?ā he whined impatiently when you didn't kiss back, you came to your sense parting your lips for his tongue to sweep in, you knees bucked at the familiar and the sensation that you craved desperately even in the despairs of your heart you needed to be held in his arm
ā Tu mere liye khud hi aagyi isse accha kya ho sakta haiā
he groaned in your mouth already hardening, hands snaking down to grope your supple thighs and drape them over the crook of his elbow so he could grind himself on you. The rhythm of his lips against your turning frenzied, more passionate from the ache of the curves he had to stay away from.Ā He pulled back abruptly but not before he bit your lower lip, pressing it in between his teeth.Ā
ā Dress bhi le aaya tere liye ab toh kush ho jaā He patted your cheek seeing the still somewhat blank expression there. You forced a smile taking the packet from his hands.Ā
ā Jaa mujhe phen ke dekhaā he urged you that you should change in the bathroom so he could get the proper first look, you were already uncomfortable and the cloth sticked to you like a second skin adding to the dreadful pit in your gut and the uneasiness of what you were keeping in your bleeding heart.
The second you stepped out, Uzair whistled, throwing away his cigarette telling you to twirl with the tip of his head, and you did no matter how crushed yourself from inside you did not know how to show it to him right now. ā B-Bas ab u-u-u-u-uta-aaar loon Uz-Uzair? accha nahi lag raha haiā ā Tumhe hi toh phena thaā He remarked, stalking over to you, looming over you with an eerily calm expression. ā Aur vaise bhi utaarunga toh mai hiā he slid his finger between the thin strap that rested atop of your shoulders, ā Uza-Uzairā ā Classes nahi le rahi tum? Mujhe doctor ne call kiya tha raaste mein, Kyu y/n?ā āGh-Gh-Ghar pe k-k-kaam thaā ā Aisa kaunsa kaam tha y/n joh ek mahine se nahi ho pa raha hai, jooth bhol rahi hai tu?āĀ ā Nahi mai j-oo-jooth nahi bol r-rahiā He threw his head back laughing, finally taking out the crumbled up paper out of his pocket, straightening the paper right in front of your eyes.
Ā ā J-j-joo-jooth nahi bol rahi?ā he mocked, he mocked it, he mocked the one thing he never commented on the one thing he handled with the most patience, your throat constricted in a painful knot. ā Itna badha decision tumne mujhe bataana jaaruri nahi samajha?ā you did not even want to defend yourself, the only thing that replayed in your head was what he just did. ā BOL TOH KUCH!ā He slapped his hand beside your head at the wall, your body jolted backing more against the cold concrete.
āKyu y/n kyu?ā he ran his own shaky hands through his dripping hair, ā Hua kab yeh?ā You did not reply, ā Pyaar nahi karti toh bol deti mere peeth peeche jaake aisi..aisi harkat karnaā You did not love him? You? You wanted to shout, you finally wanted to scream in his face that he was wrong, how much this had hurted you but nothing came out.Ā
Your lips refused to part, heart thrumming loudly against your ribs to break free, hands clenching into a fist at side while he kept throwing accusations after accusations,
ā Har cheez mei yeh masoom se shakal banane se kaam nahi chalega, say something damn it!ā
He shouted bitterly, his expression crumbling completely. Your eyes locked to the floor in a lifeless gaze, the action to your brain blocked making you look more and more guilty, dishonest in his eyes. Your lips didn't twitch, not a pinch, and to the outside world and Uzair of course it looked all the same, like defiance, like you willingly chose not to speak. You couldn't speak YOU COULDN'T SPEAK.
Uzair himself was getting teary eyed watching back to back at the paper at the decision you made yourself, to kill something you both created together, his anger simmering into a viscous venom of words. ā Problem yeh hai tumarhi ki tumhe har cheez mei victim banana hai, theek hai bol diya sorry bahut faltu cheez kari maine majak uda ke, par mai joh bol raha hoon abhi uska teri problem se kya lena dena hai y/n, BOL! KUCH TOH BOL!ā Your jaw was shut tight hands clenched ā Nahi rahna mere saath abhi bol deā You forced yourself, tried to open your mouth with all the strength that you had only to find yourself failing and standing paralysed in front of him.Ā
ā Bhenchod dimaag kharab ho jayega meraā He snarled under his breath going to open the door and leave, your finger moving just an inch before falling back in place, ā Jaanu?ā the worry creeped back into his voice, striding back to you in quick three steps finally seeing over his hurt and betrayal, how your limbs was locked in place and how hard your teeth were grinding .
He caressed your face with the same care of he did the day he met you, you shivered under his hand your mouth refusing to work, he understood something was wrong, very wrong. ā Jaan kya hua?ā he patted your cheeks hoping you would come back to your senses, for you to even look up from the ground. He saw the vacant look in your eyes and pulled you close, crushing your chest against his so tight you couldn't breathe but it was the most comforting feeling ever, and you broke down hard breaking into a string of broken sobs and breaths that you gasped to take. He whispered comforting things over your clammy skin till you finally found your voice back, your knees bucking and he let you slide down to the floor with his body acting as a cushion for you. āMu-Mu-Mujhe lag-laga tum-tum muj-mujhse p-pya-pyaar na-nahi k-karte mai bahut dar gayi t-t-thiā You wailed into his chest, and he just felt like the worst man alive on earth for him to doubt someone as precious as you. ā Mai-Mai bahut d-dar gayi thiā You snivelled one last time to face him, watching the tear that had found its way down his cheeks.Ā
"Mujhe terese mohabbat hai yaar. Haan main befkoof hoon, lekin pyaar karta hoon terese. Aur sun, main kabhi nahi chhorne wala tujhe, kabhi mat sochna aisa, jaanu. Shaadi kar le mujhse, theek hai? Mere ghar aa ja. Tumhein darne ki zaroorat nahi hai, na ab aur na kabhi. Aur agar yeh zindagi tumhare bina guzray, toh mujhe yeh zindagi nahi chahiye" he paused before going off again this time lower more sincere ā "Shaadi, Yeh sab kuch fizool hai tere bina, agar tu sath nahi na toh kuch bhi nahi meri liye sirf shab ke siwa"
You were almost three months pregnant in a bed decked with strings of jasmine and roses all put together perfectly to cover the dome of the bed, and petals sprawled across the bed. You were married to Uzair, and feeling more nervous than you expected for the marital night, it was not for the act itself but the idea that you finally belonged in his room, your stomach swelling slightly with his child and that you were to spend the rest of your life with him. You weren't unfamiliar with the idea of living with a gangster that you had all your life neither did you doubt a man whose whole life was spent in violence to nurture you,to take care of you because again you had been loved enough by your Abbu the only thing you worried if your condition got any worse and what if you lost the ability to speak to him all together.
Uzair closed the door behind him with a soft click, adorned in an affluent sherwaani, lowering your gaze into the stain of the henna making sure it wasn't as visible to him as it was to you- his name hidden in between the patterns. He laughed softly at the act, the mattress sinking beneath his weight holding both your palm in his hand, he spotted it the second your soft hand rested on his but did not wanted to see that sweet face fall with disappointed, so he furrowed his eyebrows acting out confused for whole three minutes before leaning to press a kiss to the spot where it was concealed from him.
He hadn't said anything neither have you, just sharing long glances and one beating heart. He shifted closer, gently touching your stomach, his touch featherlight against the fabric of your kurta.Uzair lifts his free right hand to chest height, facing their palm outward toward you. He folds his middle and ring fingers flat against his marred palm, keeping them held down by the thumb while his index finger and pinky point straight up, in a silent āI love youā followed by the next action. He points his index finger toward his own chestĀ then shifts his hand to point toward you he rolls both of his hands forward in smooth, circular motions Next, he brings both hands together in front of him, interlocking his fingers tightly ,keeping his hands joined, he moves them forward in a steady, continuous line, ā Will you spend the rest of your life with me?āĀ
You teared up, nodding in between your cries before breaking out into a smile that he would remember for the rest of his lifeĀ
a/n - not happy with how this turned out but I tried , hope you can enjoy it! also have a small series brewing up in mind for toxic,dark Uzair :.) at this point I am torturing myself haha
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Headcanon that Yalina died young due to her heartbreak and grief over losing her husband. If there is one thing that was made clear in the film about her is that she LOVES Hamza, i keep seeing posts about how Yalina was Hamza's solitude and peace but so many people fail to point out that Hamza was Yalina's lifelong dream too. She always wanted to be loved since she had so much love to give since her people were never there to receive it. I am pretty sure she looks at her parent's marriage and thinks ot herself that her husband would never be emotioanlly distant or unavailbale to her or their kids, he would be so gentle and respectful. She wouldnt have to tame herself for him, instead he would gladly give in to her wild and rebellious side. She wanted a happy family, a healthy marriage and a wonderful man - things she never saw in her parents life. Ā Also i think its pretty obvious she never got enough attention or love from her own parents due to them focusing on politics and appearances. I am guessing jameel and his wife never had a happy marriage or a healthy one since they do not appear together unless they absolutely have to. It is also understandable since they had a huge age gap and i just know it was a marriage of convenience for both sides, Jameel to grow his roots deeper into Pakistan's politics and his wife (i hate referring to her as someone's something but idk know her name) probably comes from a politically rich family as well. That being said, Yalina probably grew up to be rebellious and acted out in order to get her parents attention. Also, id dare to argue that she probably is closer to her dad than her mom especially after she got married to hamza since jameel and hamza probably meet often to scheme agsaisnt people hehehe and also cause her mom probably sees her as a disease lmao. judging by the way she was treating Yalina during the political rally that too in front of people, imagine what was happening in closed doors. She was definitely emotionally abusive to Yalina and maybe even got physical with her at points (refer to her squishing yalina' s cheeks during the rally) Also, id reckon that her mom also was probably jealous of her mariage to hamza as their rmarriage was what she initially thought her one with Jameel will look like when she was a newlywed. Obviously it didnt turned out that way.Ā
So imagine how miserable she must have been before meeting Hamza. When she first got into a relationship with Hamza, i am almost sure that she wouldnt have ever thought to fall in that deeply in love with him. Everyone talks about how Hamza probably never thought to fall in love with Yalina and that it was supposed to be a honey trap but get this, Yalina also was gradually falling in love with him during the Gehra Hua sequence . They both were getting attched to one another as time goes by. For Yalina, she probably would have never thought that their relationship would get as serious as it got since she probably was talking to hamza first as it gets her thrill. Imagine, a big beefy dark tall handsome gangster who works for the terrifying kingpin of my country is fliritng with me! and anyone of her age and position would have fallen for the trap. I also think that the turning point in their relationship came when they started to live together. Headcanon that a whole burger bacchi like Yalina who spends money like its water and has no understanding of its values for someoen like Hamza, finally realise just how priviledged she was. Imagine this, Hamza was probably not earning half or even quarter of what her dad was making in a week. When they started living together, Hamza def gives her most of his salary to take care of the house and stuff right? Yalina looks at the amount and she goes me? no i dont think i can take this type of stuff hamza and he is trying to convince her that she has to accept it and wtv. Yalina makes stupid excuses at first and then finally Yalina goes i just want you Hamza. I have left my dad's mansion for you not because i wanted wealth, its cause i wanted you. You give me things that no one has ever given me, love and all the ways you make sure i feel it. my babies. Also, if you noticed right, some of yalina's clothes lowk look very different from her usual ones that she wore before she started living with Hamza and im pretty sure that Hamza actually bought her those clothes. She probably didnt had enough clothes to last more than a week or so, Hamza went shopping for her at the local market and imagine someone who grew up in a lavish mansion filled with treasures and designer clothes and shawls that could pay someoen's tuition fees finds herself being handed clothes that was so plain and ā¦.. baggy? yet, she felt a surge of love for hamza because she could tell from his sheepish expression that Ā he was nervous of her reaction. at that moment, she decided that all her previous expensive clothes, nightgowns and anarkali suits couldnt ever compare to the ones in her hands now.Ā
On 26/11, Yalina woke up earlier than usual and felt a rush of excitement passed through her veins. It is her jaan's birthday. She needed to make sure to make him the happiest man alive on this day. He told her multiple times before that he wasnt big on cleebrating brithdays but as if Yalina was going to let that happen. He needed to know just how special he was so she had spent the entire past few weeks on how to prepare his favourite dishes, Halwa Puri with Dal Makhani and Chana Dal. She had managed to save enough of money to spoil him with gifts too, like a personalized bracelet with both of their names on it and a ring that had a lion crest on top of it which she was sure he would love. Hamza told her that he would probably return before midnight as he needs to be accompanying Rehman Bhai to a certain place tonight and before that he needed to stop by the factory as there were some issues with the arms shipments. So she waited. She waited. Waited. and ā¦ waited. At one point Ā she couldnt even feel the sleepiness anymore as her anxiety and overthinking were keeping her awake. Her mind whispered evil mean thoughts to her, taunting her by saying things like oh look he is probably wirh someone who is so much prettier than you. he definitely got bored of you. look at you now, look at yourself in the mirror look how pathetic you have become. he is celebrating his big day with women who could turn heads even wihout trying. Yalina tried to gight off those thoughts at first, calming herself down and muttering affirmations i know my hamza he wouldnt do this he wouldnt betray me, but as the small hand of the clock moves more and more, she find herself giving in to her thoughts. He didnt even called her, he didnt pickedup any of the times she called him frantically, He has never done that before. He has always picked up, no matter what. Is he actually getting bored of me? and then at 7 am, Hamza finally comes home and she confronts him. she was seething at the thought of him with aother grils and the fact that she could smell the alcohol on him just proved that her suspicians were right. She couldnt belive it. She shaked him as if she was trying to wake him up, to say soemthing but he didnt. She slapped him. She realised what she has done and slowly she saw hamza's eyes turned dangerous. She slwoly backed off because she has never seen him like this, ever. He said that he wants to become the king of lyari and gives her an ultimatum. she scoffs at his audacity and turns to leave. but as she was walking towards the exit, she realised that ā¦ she didnt want to be wihout him. no. she cant. he has become a part of her,her missinf rib. so she wiped her tears and finally slammed the door shut. she said to hamza with a dangerously composed and stern voice to never tell her to leave ever again. he then pulled her closer after she gave him a forehead kiss, their little symbol of love. this was the moment Yalina realises that no matter what she would always be by his side.Ā
A few weeks later, she was making Hamza his cup of karak chai and as she was walking out of the small kitchen, she noticed hamza closing a book but her attention got taken off it as the tv showed her father jameel jamali getting thrown off Ā his position. Hamza then asked her to call her dad for tea tomorrow. That night, as she finally musters up her courage to call her father after almost a year of not speaking to him, both out of guilt and also grudge, she dialed his number. Hello? she heard her dad's voice beaming out from her phone and she took a deep breath and said Abbu? Abbu Hamza called you tomorrow for tea. Will you come? (something like that ok im tired to type now) and for some weird reason that she couldnt fathom, he agrees. Next morning, she served karak chai and dhoodh patti to both of the men in her lives. They were engaged in a heated show down through their gazes. her dad was obviously not happy with the condiitons she was living in and who she was living with. Yalina stood at the back of the āliving roomā while fidgeting with her hands. After a few moments pass, she saw that her abbu was kissing hamza's hand. He agreed to wed her off to Hamza!! she was so overjoyed she skipped over to her father and hugged him for the first time in many many eyars. she finally shared a moment of complete happiness with her father and that too because of hamza. she couldnt be more overjoyed at this moment, her lover and her are getting married.Ā
Her abbu had managed to ocnvince everyone around him that getting his precious daughter married to a gangster was a good idea. Her mother was obviously displeased and made sure to tell Yalina about it in every chance she got. Yalina moved back to her dad's mansion before the nikkah preparations officially begun as they needed to somehow convince th eguests that her honour has not been dimisnhed by hamza. (she already lost her virginity to him during the aftermath of their fight on his brithday but no one needed to know that) so she just smiled and nodded with it. Hamza made sure to call her everyday and they discussed many details of the wedding but it mostly just ended with him going āyou choose jaanā. he also made sure to visit her everynight in her bedroom as he said that he couldnt fall asleep alone in their bed anymore (yalina was delighted and cooed at him when he said this and also cause he referred to the bed as theirs). When the day of the nikkah finally came, she was a nervouswreck. How is she going to be somoene's wife in a few minutes, she was full on going tohave a panic attack until she finally came across a bouquest of red roses and a card which said i cant wait to wake up next to you everyday for the rest of our lives jaan. she then felt her eyes wells up with tears and all her anxiety and nervousness finally came down. this was her person. this was her hamza. she is going to be the happiest bride alive.Ā
3 weeks after their wedding, Yalina found herself watching the news on the television about rehman dakait's death. it was said that his death was caused by SP Aslam and rehman was shot in an encounter during a series of shootout between the LTF and his gang. yalina was going crazy, how was her husband? he is ok right, he must be fine. there is no way he wouldnt have survived. they were just building their new life together, he couldnt be right ā¦. and then as her thoughts were racing and was gradually getting even more stressed by all thw aht ifs and question marks in her mind, she heard a knock on the door. she strode with big paces and opened the door with an urgency that she herslef was suprised with. she saw her husband bloodied and very much frail, asking for food. she sat him down on the couch and brought dinner to him as fast as she could. what broke her heart was the sight of him struggling to even eat as his wounds were so deep and hurtful. she couldnt take it and started crying even before she knew it. she then took the rice from his hands and fed her him. no husband of hers was going to go to bed hungry and weak. and that night yalina realised two things, one that her husband works in a very intense environment and she had just witnessed the extend of it. two, her husband is safe and somwhow, thats all that matters to her.
shoutout to @itsnotmai because i wrote this while ranting to her lmao. youre my jaan i love you. wrote this cause some of yall piss me off with your potrayal of her smh
The night was as serene as it could be at three in the morning. The med was warm, the wind was cool and the moon filtered through the curtains just a little bit but did not disturb Hamza. He woke up with a startle. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down his neck, he breathed in gasps. He looked around and reached for the plastic waterbottle. The water was room temperature- Hamza liked cold water, only cold water quenched his thirst. He drank the water anyway and placed the bottle back on the side table.
He laid back on the bed and stared out of the window through the gaps in the curtain. He turned towards Yalina. He turned towards Yalina sleeping beside him. He turned towards Yalina's side of the bed. He turned towards the women he had irrevocablely fallen in love with. He turned towards the mother of his child. She was not there.
He forgot he was not there. He was not there. He was not home with his wife and son. He was no longer a husband or a father. He no longer had a wife.
Jaskirat turned towards Yalina's side of bed forgetting he had left Hamzaās side of the bed empty.
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Please writ more for hamza and jassi. Feed my delusions
hi babes! i will be finishing 1/2 wip at some point. iām in my flop era n for a while having been losing motivation n i donāt like complaining or wanna seem like a huge pick me or anything but esp since the anon hate (ik it was a while ago but it was extreme n unsolicited) n just less interaction tho i love the people that comment on my fics. ive just lwk lost most of my interest in writing.
the only thing that has made me write is the lack of fics for hamza and my love @zoyslair for giving my fics so much love. her telling me her fav parts abt my works gave me sm motivation when i needed it. without her i wouldnāt have wrote half the fics i have.
sorry i canāt give an exact approx on when but hopefully in a couple of weeks. maybe sooner cuz im infatuated w hamza itās acc getting embarrassing š
if a mean monster asked me to choose between death or not being able to be friends with you or read ur fics, i would gladly choose death btw. you are the epitome of the full moon to my forest. your fics are like a pond of water in the middle of a dry desert with nothing in sight.
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