husband!iqbal x runawaywife!reader
𝒷ℴℴ𝓃𝒹 𝒷ℴℴ𝓃𝒹 𝓂ℯ𝓎 𝓰𝒽𝓊𝓂 𝓈𝒶 𝒽𝒶𝓲
synopsis- giving divorce papers to your husband? bad idea. now you have to face the consequences.
warnings- p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, major iqbal being the tag, power imbalance, shy!reader (during sex), fully clothed v naked , dub-ish con if you squint, humiliation, manipulation.
for my iqbal paglu @goodnightkatherine 💌
the divorce papers lay down on the desk of his cabin, the one which resides in his house. he looks at them, under his gaze even the hard material of paper rustles.
two hours ago, after a heated argument about his work. the papers were thrown at him by none other than his wife—you, his most prized possession.
the deal had broken out, after years of marriage. you had finally found out about his dirty work that he hides behind his profession.
you were confronted at the scene of torture and since then, behind his back you had organised a research of his activities over the past years.
when the archived history that had been dismantled by iqbal with precision was revealed to you, a sickening wave of disgust washed over your body.
you couldn't believe the man that you loved, your husband of the last thirteen years and most importantly the father of your daughter was behind absolute messy and dirty missions and the worst part was, he was the one leading these…..activities.
the same man who gave you the comfort of the world was out there taking lives of innocent people, the man who promised you happiness was the one who made deals to destroy livelihood without any single regret.
your husband was indeed the most dangerous man to the country as well— and you couldn't stand the thought of being with a man who is deep down in the hole of lethal work and you took no pride in being a wife of a man of that kind.
it was about time you threw those divorce papers on his face—and you did blissfully unaware of the fact iqbal has crossed vivacious paths, got the blood on his own hands just to have you by his side and a mere reveal of his true identity was not going to separate you from him, he'd get his own name dirty to have you in his arms every night.
hell, even in the afterlife. his demons would haunt you to keep you with themselves.
but for now, he sat on the leather chair of his office watching the rain drops strain on the glass window overlooking the city of islamabad.
the world behind his tinted glasses was a shade of neon green, a cigarette remained between his lips. his hardened gaze remained on the diamond ring that you left behind, picking it up to brush his fingers on the solid material of the stone which brought back memories, happy ones.
it was raining tonight like, the first rain of the season which consisted of one of your core memories, first was you being overly excited about the season, gushing to him about the fun the three of you were going to have and planning trips to the monsoon destination.
the second was more private, more intimate—the moment raindrops hit the ground, iqbal would bring you to the balcony blindfolded and make love to you, while the rain is pouring down heavily at the two of you creating a romantic weather.
he thought, smiling at the memory of your vulnerable state at his dominating weight. taking a drag of his cigarette as he remained patiently sitted, calculating the possibilities of your next step.
because even iqbal knew, no matter what happened you would never leave him— he had given you the purest form of love, loving the dark parts of yourself that you had kept buried in the shadows, he was the anchor of your soul and sanctuary of your peace.
suddenly, the office door began scraping against the floor slowly and his suspicions were right—it was you.
a victory smirk danced on his lips. he didn't turn entirely, instead he waited for you to come towards him.
“abbu, kya aap mujhe story sunake sula denge?”
he snapped his head at the direction, it wasn't you but your six year old daughter, zoya with a doll in one hand, rubbing her eyes with the back of her other hand, looking utterly sleepy, unaware about the storm that had just broke in.
he was quick to get up from his chair, walking towards zoya and leaning down on his knees to hug her.
“kya hua meri gudiya? aap soyi nahi mujhe laga ammi ne aapko story sunake sula diya hoga” iqbal patted her back softly, speaking in the softest tone possible which was only reserved for two women in his life.
the second those words left zoya’s mouth, iqbal released her from his hold now, staring at her intently. ‘kya?’
she clicked her tongue, repeating the same words again. “ammi ghar pe nahi hai woh toh khana dekar chali gayi”
he took off his glasses, the pupils of his eyes began dilating as the words still refused to register in his mind, frozen for a second, a chill ran down his spine.
zoya had to physically shake him, “abbu—abbu?”
his daughter’s voice brought him back to reality and the truth started sinking in, an undeniable ache started forming in his chest— you had actually left him.
“m-mey aapko kahani suna deta hu, chalo aao” he rested his hand on the back of her shoulder, urging her out of his office.
“abbu ammi wapas aayengi na” the innocent six year old asked him, worry laced her tone.
“ha meri jaan, abbu haina woh ammi ko wapas le aaynege”
you were serious, those words that left your mouth were real, you weren't throwing any tantrums.
for the span of forty two years, iqbal— first time, was completely shaken. tension was bursting out of his mind, the impeccable man who had led the most twisted and heinous missions was lost, on the verge of losing himself, because the darkness had consumed him without your light to fill in the parts.
after tucking up zoya to bed, iqbal had pulled the strings, his right hand man, sajid had found your location within the span of an hour leading to iqbal driving in the bizarre weather to escort you.
his gaze remained on the location that was sent to him—a place tucked in the corner, deserted in a sanctuary, he sighed to himself.
the rain was pouring relentlessly, city had slowly begun to flood. iqbal could barely navigate the streets filled with intense raindrops streaming on the roads.
after the blue pinpoint on his phone pointed to the specific turn on the road, he pulled the car into a corner.
his eyes began wandering across the road, inspecting every edge of the road like a madman. iqbal’s hands found its way to his luscious salt and pepper locks gripping them with an intense pressure to release his frustration.
he was regretting every little action, because iqbal didn't give a damn about his ‘missions’ if you weren't going to be with him.
just when he looked up after an agonizing second of self-indulgence, his gaze fell upon a dainty figure sitting on a bench at the end of the footpath, completely soaked in the heavy rain.
your body was shivering in the cold weather both of your hands covered your body as a shield of safety from the pouring rain.
your eyes were swollen, lashes clumped together as tears spilled down your cheeks like an endless river, you let out a shaky breath between broken sobs, everytime you tried to gain control another wave of grief crashed over you about how you iqbal betrayed you throughout the entire marraige.
you had not given your intrusive mind a second thought when you left his mansion, after kissing the top of your daughter's head, you left, in utter betrayal without knowing any destination, walking wherever life leads you.
and that's how you ended up here, at an isolated space from the chaos islamabad brought in and the sadness gushed, now you were helpless, sobbing on a street while reminiscing about your marriage.
suddenly, you felt a protection on your head, a sharp contrast to the heavy rain from the disdain of your misery, you looked up, your eyes which were glassy from the tears, to see iqbal— your husband, holding an umbrella over your head.
your jaw clenched, it took everything in you to not get up and land a slap across his face for his actions.
iqbal’s face was laced with worry, his glasses were discarded so now you could see his eyes which were filled with intense guilt and utter shame.
wasting no time, he sat down on his knees, keeping a steady hold on the umbrella as he stared at you with the same affective gaze from years ago.
“maaf kardo mujhe aur ghar chalo mere saath” he offered his hand, his voice was soft.
you looked at him with horror, “chale jao yaha se mey ghar nahi aane wali, you pushed his hands away, getting away from the shelter he provided.
he closed his eyes to gain control over his dominating instincts, no matter any arguments he had always treated you like a porcelain doll.
“mey samajh sakta hu, tum jasbati ho rahi ho, hum ghar jaake baat karte hai” he moved towards you, reaching out. his fingers wrapping around your wrist.
“haath choro mera, isi haatho se pata nahi tumne kitni jaane li hai aur unhi gande hatho se mujhe choo rahe ho, sharam nahi aati tumhe?” you stood up, the anger that had been spiking your senses was finally out.
in response, iqbal just smirked, he absolutely loved this side of you. the power you held over a man like him was an absolute turn on for him.
he moved toward you, taking you again under the shelter of his umbrella. the distance between the both of you was closed, he could feel the heat radiating through your body, up close so angry, you looked so beautiful.
“gusse mey aur haseen dikhti ho’’ he tilted his head to admire your beauty.
you rolled your eyes at the blatant audacity, moving away from the closeness as an attempt to leave.
his hands shot up instantly, wrapping around your wrist firmly. iqbal pulled you into his embrace, you could feel the faint scent of expensive ciggerates and sandalwood.
“mere pass raho, warna bheeg jaogi”
your eyelashes fluttered, the tears were soaked dryly on your skin. a shiver ran down your spine due to the cold weather.
iqbal's hands were wrapped around your wrist in an iron grip, a smirk was laced on his face, complimented by the romantic weather.
his actions snapped the last string of patience, the urges that you had been controlling until now came up front, you raised your hands to slap him across his face.
the noise was loud, his head had been tilted on the other side due to the impact of the slap, he turned to look at you.
despite the slap that stinged his cheek deeply, his eyes lined up with a flirtatious gaze.
“divorce paper rakhe hai sign kardena, mey kidhar bhi nahi aa rahi” your tone carried absolute vengeance.
slowly, the smile on his face disappeared. a hint of vein prompted on his forehead.
“jabse hum pandhra saal ke the tabse tum mujse mohabbat kar rahi ho, apne khandan se ladhi sirf mujhse shaadi karne aur hamare aankhon ka sitara, hamari zoya, sab piche chod dogi tum?”
his voice was deep, a gravel that carried manipulation. but you were not going to get trapped in his web of lies, you were smarter than that.
“tumhe nahi yaad aayi? mere mohabbat ki, mere kurbaani aur hamari zoya ki jab tumne qatal-e-aam logo ko maar diya tha”
you shot back, screaming on the top of your chest, tears breaking down with every word you spoke, while iqbal remained speechless.
“gheen aati hai mujhe tumhari—i question myself if you are the same boy i loved when i was fifteen to the point where i regret—
iqbal yanked you to himself, pressing the weight of his fingers inside your skin, you hissed the pressure was painful for your soft skin.
“dard ho raha hai mujhe” you say, “shayad ye hi tumhari asli pehchan hai, dusro ko dard dena”
you managed to speak through the broken sobs, completely managing to destroy the loverboy iqbal now bringing out the absolute devil that had been hidden from you, for years.
the umbrella was long gone, slipping through his hands, without any shelter both of you remained under the influence of heavy rain.
you could feel his strong breath on your lips, he looked at you with pure obsession, his fingers came up, tangling roughly into the base of your ponytail, he pulled back just enough to force your head up
“meyne apne haatho par khoon bahaya hai sirf tumhe pane ke liye, tum meri sirf mohabbat nahi, mera fitoor ho” his grip tightened with pressure, “aur tum mujhe chodkar kabhi nahi ja sakti”
the fire that burned through your body was extinguished, his true identity was scarier than any form of rebellion which left you being manhandled by him.
his fingers slid from your hair to your hand, gripping the soft skin with his rough palm he dragged you across the lane, in the direction of his car.
“aao tumhe meri asli pehchan ki jhalak dikhata hu”
next thing you knew was, he dumped you in the passenger seat of his car driving through the rainy weather of islamabad to his house.
the car ride back home was silent, the air inside was charged with tension, your skin stung where his fingers had pressed hard, earlier a reminder of the sudden change that's been brought in your relationship.
he didn't waste any time; he had dragged you to the balcony where he had ever so sweetly taken you, flourished you. now as a true sadist, he had undressed you leaving only the red pair of undergarments which were damped from the rain which was still pouring down heavily on two of you the thin fabric cling to your curves like a second skin, betraying your senes, the hardened nipples were on a display begging for attention.
iqbal stood before you, while you were half-naked. he remained fully clothed, in the trousers and a black tshirt that clinged to him revealing a tone line of his muscles. his eyes held no charm or softness that you were used to instead it was the unyielding steelness of a man who had just confessed his sins.
your hands were bound to the pillars of the balcony with the thick material of the ropes, legs tied together with a steel rod, that grows further apart if you tried to resist.
you had absolutely no idea of this version of iqbal, every time you had made love with him was off pure gentleness and care, this rough primal and sadistic version was a different tale altogether.
he stepped closer, his hair was pushed back due to the friction of the water, the salt and pepper of his beard was soaked with dampness of water, invading your personal space.
his gaze wavered on the droplets that poured down your glistening skin, he tracked the slow path of a single drop that disappeared further inside your cleavage
iqbal's hand tugged onto your hair, pulling harshly until a sharp pain stinged across your scalp, he wrapped your wet strands around his fist.
"tum meri ho, aur sirf meri rahogi "
gone was the soft iqbal, now the obsessive and possessed one flared onto your senses.
iqbal parted your thighs further, the steel rod tied to ankles expands , forcing your legs wider than you thought were possible,
he steps between your thighs. Without breaking eye contact, he slides the red lace of your panties aside. his rough, calloused fingers slipped through your swollen folds, your core was enticed with slickness, you were wet . at the hint of his touch, your hips involuntarily buckled against the cold metal.
iqbal’s lips lifted in a cruel smirk, “its been fifteen years, yet a single moment of my touch makes you lose your mind”
when he pulled them back, a hot trail of stickiness followed behind he inserted his fingers in his mouth, giving him the slick pleasure of your sweet taste, upon seeing him taste your arousal like that, shame bestowed on your body.
"inkaar kyu kar rahi thi jab tum mere liye itni tayyar ho?" he shoved his trousers down to his knees, revealing the hardness of his thick cock, veined amd pulsing ghat made you feel small, fragile and utterly helpless.
"lekin i-iqbal we have never done this" your voice cracked, the words coming out as broken whisper, you wanted the old iqbal back, who asked for permission, cherished your boundaries, but that man was buried under the weight of his own obsession.
stepping closer, he pressed the crown of his cock against your entrance, the pre-cum coating the head was hot, a droplet slid down inside you, you jolted through the salty contact through your chilled skin.
"har cheez ka pehla waqt jota hai, meri jaan" he whispered against your lips, "and you will love to be my whore”
without any warning, he entered inside you. his cock drove further, forcing his way past your tightness. you let out a strangled scream when you felt your walls being wrapped around his thickness, sending waves of pleasure across your body.
he didn't pause to let you adjust, he didn't care about the tears streaming down your face, instead he grabbed yoir thighs hard enough to bruise, the rhythm of his thrusts were punishing, with each one you could feel your cunt tearing apart driving you to a punishing edge.
the rain lashed on the both of you as an anchor to dive him deeper, but you couldn't feel the cold anymore because you were consumed by the heatness of his body.
your hips buckling involuntarily at the intensity of his thrusts, the friction of the coarse material burning your wrists. you were bring fucked like an object, a toy to be isef untill he was satisfied, and the most terrifying part was how your body responded to his violence.
he picked up the pace, moving inside you with a relentless speed forcing your walls to stretch at his size, your toe curled against the wet stone. the scream that tore from your throat echoed through the storm.
his thursts were a punishing, each thrust deeper than the last sending a shockwave throught your body. the violence of his movements were so intense that the soaked lace of your bra couldn't hold any longer, with a wet snap, your breasts spilled free from yhe fabric, bouncing widely while soaking in the rain.
the sight of your bare exposed breast made his eyes predatory, he let out a dark, guttural sound at the sight. "so beautifully ruined" he whispered.
he leaned forward, his hands which were on your thighs now moved to claim your exposed breast, reaching to squeeze your hard nipple between his rough thumb and forefinger. with each thrust, he pinched them hard, making you gasp his name in agony.
by this time your moans mixed with ecstacy of his name filled the balcony.
the storm continued to pour down, but all you could see is the primal, possesive look in iqbal's eyes that screamed you were his.
your mind could no longer distinguish between the pain of being stretched and the electric desire that flared through you with each thurst, his thumb grinded mercilessly against your peaked nipples, the stell rod between your legs carcked under the strain of his thrusts.
"sirf meri" iqbal was lost in the pleasure of being inside his heaven, being inside you. he buried his head in the crook of your neck, as ne continued to pulse inside you. he was close and you could feel it too, closing your eyes you let yourself sink deeper in his embrace , seeing a white vision as his thick cock claimed every inch of you..
a low primal roar tore from his throat as he came, you felt ghe first hog searing seed of his cum exploding your cunt, followed by another and another that filled your womb, the warm liquid slowly began to leal from your overfilled cunt, dripping down to your inner thighs, mixing with rainwater.
the breeze of the weather was still heavy with rain but you could only feel the hands of a man who had just destroyed evrything you knew about his love.
DISCLAIMER - this piece of fiction is completely written for arjun rampal's portrayal in dhurandar and has no affiliation with the real life people.
note- HIYAA, its been a while since i wrote for him, it feels good being back since it was raining like crazy (and i like to romanticize it so yea) i hope yall liked ts AND KATHY BB I HOPE YOU LOVED IT TOO MUWAH.
@avasif @khlomoneyyyy4 @cloudyparadoxqueen @leftmarkerpaperpie @rehmanhatesdosa @cakiebleh @wtafananya @stociepochmaw @ashnotashkechum @precioussophia @scentedwolfdragon @kisswithknife @hereforfanfictionsfr @s4nzt @maxpaglu @yearnerray @hereforfanfictionsfr @goodnightkatherine
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