Disclaimer :- The fic is about the fictional version of Major Iqbal (played by Arjun Rampal) not the real life person. I am not romanticizing the real individuals or supporting the real event, this is purely fictional storytelling.
Summary :- A day full of interruptions turns into a night they finally get to keep for themselves.
Warning โ heavy tension, suggestive scenes, implied smut.
A/N :- First time writing suggestive content so feedback is welcome (be gentle plz)
1. Morning โ Almost Too Far
The rain paints the world in slow strokes, a morning meant for tangled limbs and stolen hours. You wake to the drum of droplets against glass and the heat of Iqbalโs chest pressed to your back, his arm already slung possessively over your waist.
โUth gayi?โ His voice is rough, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your kurta to trace the dip of your hip.
You donโt answer. Just arch into his touch, a silent go on.
Iqbal doesnโt need permission twice. He rolls you onto your back in one fluid motion, his knee coming in between your legs as his mouth crashes into yours. Thereโs no gentleness here, just hunger. His tongue swipes past your lips, swallowing your gasp as his hand palms your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple through the fabric.
โIqbalโโ You claw at his shoulders, as heโs already dragging your kurta up, his mouth following the exposed collarbone, the trembling valley between your breastsโ
โIss ghar mein koi uthta bhi hai ya nahi?!โ
The shout from Brigadier Jahangir from the living room freezes him mid-motion. His chest heaves against yours, lips still hovering over your perked nipple.
โโฆignore karo,โ he grits out, but his fingers dig into your thigh, frustrated.
โSubah ke 8 baj baye haiโโ. Yet another scream from the living room.
"Nahi uthi toh pura Ghar sar par utha lenge". You say in a frustrated tone, as you try to wriggle your way out.
He doesnโt let go. Not fully. Just sinks his teeth into your neck claiming, before wrenching away with a groan, as he watches you leave.
2. Late Morning โ Worse
The kitchen reeks of interrupted desire. Youโre chopping vegetables with unsteady hands when Iqbal steps behind you.
โAkeli ho?โ His breath ghosts over your ear as his hands slide around your waist then lower. One palm presses flat to your stomach, pushing you flush against the counterโs edge while the other slips boldly beneath your salwar.
โIqbalโSofia aa jayegiโโ
โNahi aayegi,โ he murmurs, fingers skimming lower to his desired destination.
You reach back to swat him, but he just laughs softly, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, lips grazing the delicate skin there as his other hand inches lower, teasing the edge of your underwear. You shiver partly from his proximity, partly from the prospect of getting caught. He must sense it. He chuckles again, low and smug.
"Agar tumhari awaaz sunegi, toh woh zaroor aa jayegi." he murmurs against your ear.
His fingertips press dangerously close to where you ache, but he doesnโt give you what you want. Not yet. Just traces slow, torturous circles high enough to make your breath hitch, low enough to leave you squirming.
You bite your lip, nails digging into the countertop. "Bas woโ"
"Nahi," he interrupts, voice low. "Abhi nahi."
He tears himself away just as Sofia rounds the corner, her eyes flicking between you both. She bows slightly acknowledging Iqbal before turning to you.
ย "Bibi, khane mai aur kuch banana baki hai kya?"
Your face burns with embarrassment as you answer.
"Roti bana de zara," you say as you turn to continue your work.
Iqbal steps back, expression schooled into indifference but the look he shoots you promises this isnโt over.
3. Before He Leaves โ Almost Breaking Point
The doorway becomes a battleground. Iqbal stands at the doorway as he pins you against the wall, one hand cradling your jaw while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise.
โAane mein late hoga kya?โ you whisper, already breathless.
His answer is a kiss that steals reason, all tongue and teeth and suppressed frustration from hours of interruptions. When he pulls back, his pupils are blown black. โPata nahi".
You whimper, arching into himโ
Mehrโs voice snaps the tension like glass. Both of you pull away immediately. Iqbal exhales sharply through his nose before adjusting himself subtly and then smiles at Mehr.
"Allahafiz" he say quietly to both you and Mehr before walking to his car.
4. Night โ No More Interruptions
The house finally sleeps. Rain blurs the world beyond your bedroom as Iqbal crowds you against the door the moment it clicks shut.
โAbhiโฆ koi disturb nahi karega,โ you breathe.
His answering smirk is feral. โPakka?โ
In three strides, he has you on the bed, his body covering yours completely. His mouth is everywhere, your neck, your collarbone, the frantic pulse at your wrist each kiss a brand. When his fingers hook into the waistband of your salwar,ย
โโฆfinally,โ you whisper.
He lets out a quiet breath, something more of relief.
The last coherent word either of you speaks for hours. Dawn finds the sheets tangled at the foot of the bed, your body curled into his, and his arm slung possessively over your waist. The rain has stopped. The world finally feels at peace.
P.s :- The text dividers have been taken from pinterest.
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