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Kuch is tarah teri palkain meri palkoon say mila de
Aanso teray saaray meri palkoon pay saja de
Kuch is tarah
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"The last time I went on a medical camp I met this lady, she had a cleft palate and her family pressed her to believe that some spirits cursed her, I can't believe there is so much absurdity in particular areas," Amal hurried from the walk-in closet to the luggage placed on their bed, simultaneously telling Wajdan about her weird medical experiences.
"Aur there was this girl-" she curtailed hearing a sharp noise erupt from where wajdan was seated against the headboard. She looked up and saw he had harshly plopped the glass on the nightstand. He had a grim expression on his face as he sat folding his thick arms over his chest. She scrunched her brows at his antics. He had been cranky since returning from the office a few hours back.
Not that she was unaware of the reason.
She glanced at her phone and quickened her pace, she had a flight to take in a few hours. The hospital management had arranged a medical conference and a camp in Gilgit. She informed Wajdan but he was not delighted at the news. He wanted her not to go but she had persuaded him after a few pleas and puppy eyes.
However, his mood was tarnished from that moment and he was being a cranky baby.
She was zipping her luggage when she heard the harsh disturbance once again. This time, he had thrashed his poor phone on the nightstand. She narrowed her eyes at the large man. She had not neglected the last time he smashed his phone.
"Do you need anything?" She questioned and he looked up at her, his eyes were dark and his jaw clenched, "Wajdan coffee ku nahi pe aapne?" She added glancing at the untouched cup of coffee beside him.
(Why are you not drinking your coffee?)
"I don't want to," he rumbled staring at her with his piercing gaze.
"Then why did you have me make it?" she folded her arms similar to him and rose her brows. He kept silent for a few seconds before responding gruffly,
"Who will make me coffee after you're gone?" Amal scoffed at his reply. He was acting as if she was going for a month. She was just leaving for 4 days.
"Who made you coffee when I was not here?" she shrugged and Wajdan grumbled looking away.
"I just came back and now you're leaving," Wajdan muttered frustratedly. It had been hardly a week since he came back from Turkey and she was leaving him now. The time he had spent without her in Turkey flickered in his mind and he became angry. He did not know why but the thought of staying without her made him feel queasy.
The moment she had notified him about her fucking medical camp his first reaction was no fucking way. But after seeing her excited expressions and her fucking cute face he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
He was regretting it now.
"I'll be back before you know, chaar din hi to hain bas, "Amal told reaching him, "here drink this now," she brought the mug before him. Wajdan stared at her twinkling eyes. Her long hair was currently in a messy bun, a few strands curtaining her flawless face. He averted his gaze with a sigh. Fucking 4 days. (It's just four days.)
He took the mug from her hands with an angry scowl and Amal smiled. She had come to know one thing by now, he was just like a grumpy puppy. He craved a little sweetness in everything.
She continued her last moment stuffing and Wajdan kept gaping at her little form enthusiastically doing the work. He couldn't help but feel warm in his heart despite being a little mad. She wore a white T-shirt which had a picture of Pizza on its front with grey pants.
He peeked at her petite form with attention. She looked fucking adorable. He could eat her whole. He leaned against the headboard and drank his coffee, his gaze never perishing from her.
"Come here now," he demanded when he saw her finish the unnecessary stuff she had indulged herself in. Amal looked up at him and grinned. Wajdan's lips coddled at her beautiful smile.
He peered as she sauntered over to him and sat on his lap, sideways. He raised his brows at her bold move and she smiled flattening the frown on his forehead with her soft fingers. His muscles relaxed and he put his arms around her thin waist, pulling her close.
"Stop frowning already Mr. Wajdan, you'll end up ruining this handsome face," she spoke ruffling his jet-black hair.
"I'm handsome?" he polled as his lips stretched further.
"Uhun, I wouldn't marry you If you were not handsome," she bit her lip and chuckled when he smiled at her.
"And you look even better when you smile," she whispered placing a soft kiss on his calm lips. Wajdan clamped her waist as he felt her touch intoxicating him. Before she could move back he grabbed her head and seized her mouth in a hungry kiss that had her toes wriggling.
Amal closed her eyes as a familiar exciting sensation started to build in her. His warm lips brushed against hers in a glottal manner, his broad palms caressing her waist. She wheezed when she felt his hand touching her bare skin under her T-shirt, his fingers brushing softly, leaving hot sparks all over her.
He bit on her plump lower lip and she opened up for his hungry mouth.
(A/N: A littol mature content- chotey bacho, bhaag jao🌚💀)
Wajdan plunged his tongue into her mouth and tangled their fluffy fleshes. Amal could taste the remains of coffee he had just drunk on his tongue. Her small body twitched as his growing stubble rubbed against her soft skin. His hot touch made her stomach churn in fervor.
His callus hand stroked the skin of her stomach and her legs squeezed around his thighs.
"Lanet cazip," Wajdan breathed on her soft swollen lips. His hand lazily roamed under her shirt.
(Fucking delicious.)
Amal could only whimper in ecstasy as she took whiffs of his strong woody cologne, feeling his hot lips continue to kiss her jaw, nibbling softly on her velvety skin.
She shifted abruptly when his hand kneading her stomach reached her sensitive breasts draped with the thin material of lace.
"Wa..jdan," she managed to whisper against the sweet torture on her skin.
Her whisper was like a fire that made him groan against her skin, his teeth biting fiercely on her now uncovered shoulder. The shirt had slipped down, revealing her pale skin to his predatory gaze.
"You're so delicate," Wajdan husked clasping her right breast in his big palm, "I'm worried I will taint your soft skin."
Although she had her bra on, it felt incredibly sensuous and a trail of wetness glistened her panties. She hid her face in his shoulder with embarrassment.
"Fucking delicious," she moaned as his slippery tongue swept over her skin.
She was in a haze when he scampered away and got rid of her T-shirt, revealing her assets to his burning eyes. Amal flushed when he kept staring at her chest, covered in lace.
"Siktir," wajdan groaned brushing his fingers above her chest. He felt his pants tighten as he stared at the feast before his eyes in hunger.
(Fuck.)
"Can I?" he mumbled joining his lips with hers, a hand clasping the hooks on her back. His hand fastened when he felt her legs tighten around him, her lower region brushed against his own.
Involuntary he moved and Amal gasped feeling his hardness poke her wetness.
"Answer me, Amal," Wajdan rasped seizing her earlobe between his teeth, his hand teasing her.
"Wajdan," she moaned as he unhooked her bra, leaving her flushed skin bare to his ministrations.
"Beautiful," he mumbled glancing at her two mounds. His thick fingers traced the skin around her erect nipple.
"No," he grunted making her shiver, "kahrolası mükemmel, you're so perfect."
(Fucking perfect.)
Amal's heart fluttered against her chest at his words and the way his dark eyes stared into hers. She felt herself tumbling into a blurry sensation.
"Can I touch you? Hmm?" She quivered when he dropped his head between her chest, his ablaze lips brushing lightly. She was unable to form any words at the surge of events.
"Ah," she shrieked lightly when he pinched her nipple, scraping his stubble against her skin.
"Is It okay If I touch you?" he mumbled darting out his tongue, taking her swollen nub in his mouth. Amal arched her back, her hands clasping his hair.
She whimpered when he moved back suddenly, his hand gripped her chin and brought her face closer to his.
"I asked you something," he mumbled on her moist lips, his minty breath teased her skin, "Shall I touch you?"
His hand reached the waistband of her pants, caressed her inner thigh then came up and clamped her breast in his massive hand.
"Here?" He questioned licking her bottom lip and squeezing her bouncy flesh.
Amal jerked on his thick hair and mumbled softly, "touch me."
It was after that she blushed and closed her eyes when his lips left her mouth and took her itching nipple in his mouth.
She groaned as he hungrily sucked on her bud while playing the other in between his warm fingers.
The feeling was so arousing and sensational that she didn't know when she began to rub her throbbing wetness against his clothed hardened member gradually.
"Siktir, Amal," Wajdan groaned grabbing her hips and positioning his head on her shoulder.
"You're making this fucking difficult," he rubbed his nose on her shoulder and groaned," Stop moving If you don't want me to ravage you this instant."
He smooched her neck softly, and his rough hand wavered on her waist. Before he could proceed the ringing of a phone had Amal jumping in surprise.
She scooted away from him and gasped trying to unwind the drunken state of her brain.
"Wajdan!" She squealed as slowly her hazy mind became clear and heaved back, "my flight!" She glanced at the time and exclaimed.
Wajdan groaned placing his forehead against hers and cursed. Fucking flight.
He secretly wished she would miss the flight.
"Wajdan, leave me, I'll be late," she attempted to unwind his arms around her body but he fastened them in response.
"Don't go."
"Huh?"
"I said don't go," she heard his deep exclaim as he kissed the corner of her mouth.
"S..stop Wajdan, I need to go," she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back.
"I...I'm going to change," she stood up flushing as she covered her chest with her hands. Wajdan let go of her reluctantly and she run into the bathroom leaving him all hot, bothered, and frustrated.
Siktir. He cursed glancing at the bulge in his pants and plopped back on the mattress.
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"Do you have your passport with you?" Wajdan questioned grabbing her tiny hands in his.
"Yes."
"Identity card?"
"Yes." She bobbed her head.
"Your credit card?"
"Yes Wajdan, I have them all. Ye tesri baar aap merese poch rahein hain ab. I'm just going to Gilgit, Russa nahi ja rahi mai," Amal chuckled rolling her eyes at the huge man standing in front of her.
(It's the third time you're asking me all this, I'm just going to Gilgit, not Russia.)
They were currently at the Airport. Fortunately, they reached on time otherwise she would've missed her flight.
"Daha yavaş sürmeliydim," Wajdan grumbled under his breath and Amal peeked at him.
(I should've driven slower.)
"Huh? Kia bolre aap?"
(Huh? What are you saying?)
"Nothing," he muttered with a sigh and placed a kiss on her forehead.
"Ab jaon mai?" She smiled pointing towards the boarding post. She felt as If she was dealing with a five years old who wasn't ready to let their parent go to work.
(Can I go now?)
"Don't forget to call me once you land," he reminded and Amal chuckled at his scowl.
"Stop making this face now nahi toh I'll think you've become obsessed with me," she stood on her tiptoes and stretched his pressed lips into a smile.
Wajdan didn't reply. He tamed her baby hairs and lightly pushed her towards the boarding station.
He kept staring as she reached the post. It was after her figure disappeared that he realized how fucking Whipped he had become.
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"Dr. Amal! Your tea," Amal was busy examining the patients in the camp when she heeded as the staff calls her name. She gleamed grabbing the hot cut of tea and placing it beside her.
It was quite cold in Gilgit. And the fact that
the medical camp was stationed outdoor, It felt more chilly. It was the second day at the camp and she had been incredibly busy the entire time. The only time she had talked to Wajdan was the day before when the flight landed. They had exchanged a few messages but not more. Most of the time It was Wajdan checking up on her.
"Amal, look there," her colleague nudged her slightly and asked Amal to look to her left.
She found a group of men staring in their direction. They didn't seem like patients or locals. They were dressed like some rebellious teenagers. A few of them had cigarettes in their hands. Amal frowned wondering why were they even on these premises?
"Do you know them?" Amal inquired glancing at those men laughing among themselves, they would occasionally peek in their direction.
"No but they're creepy, they keep on staring here," her colleague answered making her scowl.
"Leave them, It's better not to give any notice to these stupid creeps," she shrugged sipping on her tea. It was after a few minutes that the group left and Amal got herself busy surveying the patients.
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"Ah! This is so refreshing. I don't want to leave," Amal heard her friends exclaim as they walked under the clear sky. The weather was pretty pleasant In Gilgit and Amal couldn't help but agree with them. She could stay here longer but there was a certain person who would surely come and abuct her If she decided to do that.
Amal giggled thinking of Wajdan. She was reminded of Wajdan's words in the morning and smiled,
"I can't decide what to wear," Amal heard a grumble from the other end and snickered.
"Wear anything Wajdan, aap ache hi lagey gey."
"No, I want you to decide."
"Acha wear your blue suit then," Amal responded.
"I have many blue suits."
"Koi bhi pehen lein," Amal replied.
(Wear any one.)
"No, I'm video calling," Amal gazed at the phone in surprise as he transferred the call to video. She hastily glanced in the mirror to tame her hair and grinned when his handsome face came into view.
"Show me the closet," she mumbled when he kept looking at her face.
"It's okay I've decided what to wear," she raised her brows at that.
"Abhi to aapse decide nahi ho raha tha?"
"Ab ho gaya hai."
(You were not able to decide just now?)
(Now I have.)
"You just wanted to make a video call nahi?" She inquired as her lips coddled.
"Mhm. I wanted to see your face."
"Amal?!" her reverie broke when her friends called her. She ran up to them with a smile. They had reached their hotel. She was about to enter when she realized she did not have her phone with her.
"Shit," she exclaimed checking the pockets of her coat.
"What happened?" Laiba, her friend asked looking at her distressed face.
"I forgot my phone at the restaurant," she exclaimed with a whiff.
"C'mon let's get it back," her colleagues said but she refused flapping her hands,
"Nahi I'll go myself tum log jao room me, y'all must be tired."
"Are you sure? It's late," Laiba spoke looking down the street with only a few people roaming.
"It's fine 2 minute ka rasta hai I'll be back," Amal spoke turning around and rushing to the place they had dinner at.
She entered the restaurant and fortunately her phone was safe with the staff. She thanked them politely and strolled towards the hotel. She was around the corner when she decided to have a cup of coffee before going. She arrived at a nearby small cafe and ordered her favorite Latte.
She was waiting for her order as she glanced at the lovely traditional place.
"Hey."
A gruff voice made her look at the source. She was surprised to find a man smirking at her. Looking carefully she realized he was one of the hooligans who had been staring at them at the camp. She decided to ignore him as she took her coffee and left the cafe.
"Hello? I was talking to you," she fastened her steps when the man continued to walk beside her.
"Ouff, itni akar," she felt her blood boil as the man stepped in front of her and grinned.
(So much arrogance?)
She saw he was swaying a little and grinning abnormally. Her thoughts went to whether he was drunk but decided against it as she walked past him. The street was empty and she didn't want to take any risks.
However, she was abruptly stopped when the man held her hand. She squealed as the coffee spilled from her hands burning her feet slightly.
"Aaram se bat kar leti to ye nahi hota, khoobsorat ho iska ye matlab nahi guroor karo," the man stepped towards her but she moved away avoiding his touch. She felt his gaze filthy and cursed the moment she decided to step out alone. She didn't even have her pepper spray.
(This wouldn't have happened If you listened to me quietly, you're beautiful doesn't mean you need to be arrogant.)
"Don't touch me," she seethed walking
ahead but the man grabbed her hand once again. She was going to slap him with the other but he held both of her hands in his vile grip. She heard her phone ring which was now lying a few steps away from them.
"Choro mujhe," she struggled trying to shove him away but heard his dirty laugh. She could now smell something weird from him and was convinced he had been drinking. Her heart began to thump as she looked around for help but the narrow street was empty. She was not on the main street and It was after midnight.
(Leave me alone.)
"Stop struggling pretty," the man ushered making her cringe away. She kicked him in the legs but he was steadfast making her nervous. Her face started to sweat as she screamed as loud as she could, calling for help.
"Shut up bitch," she whimpered as he placed his bulky hand over her mouth. Her eyes began to shed tears at the force.
She bit on his hand and continued fighting when unexpectedly she felt a gush beside her and a moment later her body was free from the vicious grip.
She looked up through her wet lashes and her eyes widened at the scene in front of her.
She blinked her eyes to substantiate whether she was in her senses. It was Wajdan clutching the man by his neck as he charged jabs on his face.
"Fucking filthy bastard!" Wajdan roared pushing the man to the ground as he curled his fist and aimed for his jaw viciously, "HOW DARE YOU FUCKING LAY YOUR FILTHY FUCKING HANDS ON MY WIFE?!"
He kept ambushing his fist into his face as Amal stood shocked. She was not able to respond. Her eyes expanded as the man attempted to kick Wajdan back but his movements were skill full and he dodged punching him again.
However, the man did possess a little strength as he managed to hit Wajdan and a streak of blood trailed on the side of his jaw. Regardless, it was nothing compared to the spooky man coated in blood.
"YOU FUCKER!" Wajdan seethed grabbing his head and slamming it onto the ground, his eyes blazing, "I'm GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"
This was when Amal scurried to his side and tried to hold him back, her eyes pooling with tears.
"Wajdan! Wajdan stop," she mumbled but he was deaf ears as he continued his violence.
He saw red the moment he had seen his filthy hands jerking Amal with force. How did that fucker try to touch his wife? His nerves exploded watching Amal struggle as tears strolled down her cheeks.
All he wanted to do at that moment was rip apart the man limb by limb who had dared to make her cry by forcing her.
And he was going to do that.
"Wajdan!"
"Wajdan bas karein."
Amal was frightened when she noticed the man had stopped moving but Wajdan was still hitting him. She made an inconceivable effort to halt him, "Wahdan It's enough!"
"WAJDAN LOOK AT ME PLEASE!" his hands halted in the air when he heard her loud frantic cry, her trembling hand was grabbing his fist.
He swiveled to gaze at her and his heart fell the instant he took in her crying face. Her face was wet with tears and she sniffed and rubbed her face with the back of her hand.
Fuck.
Wajdan stood up instantly and tugged her trembling figure into his strong arms.
"Siktir. Siktir," he put his lips on her head and Amal clutched his shirt in her hands immediately, snuggling into his warmth. The familiar scent engulfed her and she cried harder. She didn't want to cry but the scramble of events had her sobbing onto his chest.
"Shh. Stop crying, Aşkım," Wahdan spoke against her breathlessly.
(My love.)
His heart clenched seeing her sob. This was the second time he saw her crying like this and he wanted to fucking take away all her miseries.
He couldn't help but acknowledge that he had started to fucking love this little girl who was the only person capable of swaying his heart. The one to make him act like a fucking child. The person who could make him smile any day.
She was the only one who could make his heartache.
"Wa...Wajdan I...I-" Amal attempted to speak and he hugged her body, sensing his heart beat louder than hers. He rubbed her back anxiously, attempting to calm her down.
"Please stop crying, Amal," he slightly pulled her face from his chest and wiped her tears with his thumb, "Amal meri Jaan chup karjao."
(Amal my life, stop crying.)
Wajdan held her face in his and cautiously brushed her eyes to stop the falling tears.
"Take deep breaths hmm? Everything's okay. You're okay Aşkım," he mumbled watching her take whiffs of air. Her pretty eyes were all red and he clenched his jaw in anger. He wanted to fucking end the life of the limped man behind him but he couldn't leave Amal. Not when she was crying clinging onto him dear life.
(Aşkım-My love.)
"Come here, you're okay," he hauled her back into his chest and dropped his head on her shoulder. His tensed muscles relaxed sniffing her soft lily fragrance. He was trying to convince himself more than her.
Thank Fuck she was okay. Thank fuck she was in his arms.
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Hello and Asalam-u-Alaikum beautiful people!
I hope you enjoyed the update🥹
I love Wajdan😭🥺 He my baby<33
Look at this, doraemontheraccoon made an edit for my cuties. Tysm it's so pretty🥺💜
Also, there are a very few Wajdan in real life. Don't forget to keep a teaser or pepper spray with you when you're alone. Stay safe🫶🏼
4003 words.