Color Me Curious
oozey mess
@theartofmadeline
No title available
RMH
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
ojovivo
Product Placement
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
if i look back, i am lost
untitled
Fai_Ryy
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane
No title available
EXPECTATIONS
d e v o n
Monterey Bay Aquarium
The Stonewall Inn
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
seen from Türkiye
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Morocco
seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Venezuela
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
@matpuchiye
Masterlist
ongoing series:
shubman gill fic- 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5
Dhurandhar fanfic
Between Borders and Lies {uzair x spy oc} - 1 2 ,3 , 4 , 5 . 6, 6.2 , 7 , 7.2, 8 , 8.2 , 9.1 , 9.2, 10
Ishq in the Spotlight {ranveer singh x oc}- ch1 ch2 ch3 ch4 ch5 ch6 ch7 ch8 ch9 ch10 ch11 ch12 ch13
Almost Professional [akshaye khanna x reader]- part 1 part2 part3
Between Borders and Lies
Chapter 10- "the decision" masterlist
The university didn’t feel the same.
Not because anything had changed physically.
But because something had shifted in the way people spoke.
In the way they looked.
Laiba noticed it before anyone said it out loud.
Small clusters of girls.
Phones in hand.
Whispers that stopped when she walked past.
Then continued anyway.
“…I heard it’s confirmed—”
“From Rehman’s side…”
“She’s from our uni, right?”
Laiba didn’t stop walking.
Didn’t react.
But something in her chest tightened—just slightly.
Mahira found her near the stairs.
“You didn’t tell me,” she said immediately.
Laiba blinked. “Tell you what?”
Mahira crossed her arms. “Don’t act innocent. The whole city is talking.”
That wasn’t comforting.
“…Talking about what?” Laiba asked, even though she already knew.
Mahira leaned closer.
“Uzair.”
Just his name.
Nothing else.
But it said enough.
Laiba exhaled slowly. “People talk about everything.”
“This isn’t everything,” Mahira replied. “This is specific.”
A pause.
Then, softer—
“…Is it true?”
Laiba didn’t answer immediately.
Because she didn’t know how to.
Not fully.
Not honestly.
“…It’s being discussed,” she said finally.
Mahira stared at her for a second longer than usual.
Then smiled faintly. “Well… that’s not small.”
No.
It wasn’t.
—
That evening, the house felt quieter than before.
Not empty.
Just… softer.
“Laiba,” Ulfat called the moment she saw her.
The warmth in her voice hadn’t changed.
If anything—it had deepened.
“You came.”
“I said I would,” Laiba replied, slipping off her shoes.
Ulfat smiled, pulling her closer.
“Yes—but now it matters more.”
That line stayed.
Before Laiba could ask what she meant, Ulfat was already guiding her inside.
“Sit,” she said. “You look tired.”
“I’m fine—”
“No,” Ulfat interrupted gently. “You look like you’re thinking too much.”
Laiba didn’t argue.
Because that part was true.
—
They sat together, closer than before.
Comfortable in a way that hadn’t been forced.
Ulfat reached for something beside her.
A folded piece of fabric.
Soft.
Carefully kept.
“This was mine,” she said.
Laiba looked at it.
A dupatta.
Simple—but not ordinary.
There was history in the way it had been folded.
“You’re giving this to me?” she asked quietly.
Ulfat nodded.
“I don’t give things away easily.”
A pause.
“Then why—”
“Because you don’t take things lightly,” Ulfat replied.
That answered more than expected.
Laiba took it slowly.
Carefully.
Like she understood the weight behind it.
“Thank you,” she said, softer now.
Ulfat watched her for a moment.
Then smiled faintly.
“This house…” she said quietly, “feels less empty when you’re here.”
That landed deeper than anything else.
Not pressure.
Not expectation.
Just… belonging.
And somehow—
that made it harder.
—
Outside, the air was cooler.
Laiba stepped out for a moment—
just to breathe.
Just to think.
“You always leave when things get quiet.”
She turned.
Uzair.
Of course.
“You always show up when they do,” she replied.
A faint smile.
He stepped closer.
Not too close.
Just enough.
“You looked like you needed space.”
“I did.”
“And now?”
She hesitated.
“…I’m not sure.”
He didn’t fill the silence immediately.
Didn’t rush it.
That was new.
“I heard the rumors,” he said finally.
She let out a small breath. “Of course you did.”
“They’re not entirely wrong.”
That made her look at him.
Fully.
“And that doesn’t bother you?” she asked.
“Should it?”
“You tell me.”
A pause.
Then—
“No,” he said simply.
Because to him—
this wasn’t sudden.
It had been building.
Slowly.
Quietly.
He stepped a little closer this time.
Not accidental.
Not careless.
Deliberate.
“You keep saying ‘we’ll see,’” he said.
His voice lower now.
Quieter.
“But you haven’t walked away.”
Her breath slowed.
Just slightly.
“That doesn’t mean I’ve decided.”
“It means you’re still here.”
That… was true.
She didn’t step back.
Didn’t move at all.
And he noticed.
Of course he did.
“You don’t realize what you do,” he added quietly.
“To what?”
“To people.”
A beat.
“To me.”
That wasn’t dramatic.
Didn’t need to be.
Because it was said without hesitation.
Without performance.
Just… truth.
Laiba looked away first.
Again.
“…You’re very direct,” she said.
“I don’t like wasting time.”
A small pause.
Then, softer—
“Especially not on things that matter.”
That stayed between them.
Longer than it should have.
—
At the factory, things were moving differently.
Faster.
More precise.
Hamza noticed it immediately.
Rehman didn’t call him in often.
But when he did—
it mattered.
“Sit,” Rehman said.
Hamza did.
No questions.
Uzair stood nearby.
Quiet.
Listening.
Rehman didn’t waste time.
“Money,” he said, “moves louder than guns.”
Hamza didn’t react outwardly.
But he listened.
Carefully.
“There are operations you haven’t seen yet,” Rehman continued. “Ones that don’t stay inside this city.”
A pause.
Then—
“Khanani network.”
The name landed heavier than expected.
Not unfamiliar.
But not small.
“Fake currency,” Rehman said simply. “Across borders.”
Hamza’s mind shifted instantly.
This wasn’t local anymore.
This was structure.
Strategy.
Scale.
“You’ll start learning that side now,” Rehman added.
Not a question.
A decision.
Hamza nodded once.
“I understand.”
Uzair glanced at him.
Not testing.
Not doubting.
Just… acknowledging.
Later, outside—
“You didn’t react,” Uzair said.
Hamza looked at him. “Should I have?”
“Most people would.”
“I’m not most people.”
A faint smirk.
Then—
“I know,” Uzair said.
And for the first time—
there was no distance in it.
—
The days didn’t slow down.
If anything—
they closed in.
Laiba felt it everywhere.
In conversations.
In looks.
In silence.
Mahira asking less—but observing more.
Mehnoor not asking at all—but noticing everything.
Ulfat already including her.
Rehman expecting.
Uzair… not stepping back.
And Hamza—
watching everything.
Calculating.
Waiting.
—
The conversation came sooner than she expected.
Not dramatic.
Not forced.
Just… inevitable.
“We won’t stretch this,” Rehman said calmly.
Laiba’s hands stilled slightly.
Not visibly.
But enough.
“We need clarity,” he continued.
Ulfat didn’t interrupt.
But her gaze stayed soft.
Hopeful.
Uzair didn’t look away from her.
Not once.
Hamza did.
Just for a second.
Then back.
Steady.
“This is your decision,” Ulfat said gently.
“But know this—”
A pause.
“You already have a place here.”
That made it harder.
Not easier.
Because now—
it wasn’t just about saying yes or no.
It was about walking away from something that already felt… real.
Laiba exhaled slowly.
Her eyes moved—
to Hamza.
He held her gaze.
Calm.
Certain.
“This makes sense,” he said quietly.
Logic.
Not emotion.
Then—
to Uzair.
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t push.
But everything about him said enough.
He wanted this.
Not casually.
Not lightly.
Fully.
And that—
that was the problem.
Because she could feel it.
The weight.
The pull.
The expectation.
The possibility.
Everything at once.
Too much.
And still—
she didn’t step back.
“…Okay,” she said.
Soft.
But clear.
Silence followed.
Not shocked.
Not loud.
Just… settling.
Because everyone understood what that meant.
Ulfat’s hand tightened slightly around hers.
Rehman nodded once.
Final.
Uzair exhaled—
like he hadn’t realized he’d been holding it.
And Hamza—
watched quietly.
Because the moment had arrived.
Exactly where he needed it to.
—
Later that night—
Laiba stood alone for a moment.
The house quieter now.
Her thoughts weren’t.
Uzair stepped beside her again.
Not too close.
Not distant.
“I meant what I said,” he told her.
She didn’t look at him immediately.
“I know.”
“And I won’t rush you.”
A small pause.
“…even if everything else is.”
That made her glance at him.
A faint smile touched her lips.
“…Good,” she said softly.
Because she needed that.
Even if everything else—
was already moving too fast.
And somewhere between choice and pressure—
between truth and role—
Laiba had stepped into something that wouldn’t let her stay unchanged.
Not anymore.
Sorry for taking so long,there were a lot of things going on in my life. i'll try to update now. taglist- @lavenderwinkle @theuselessdaydreamingidiot @youngweaponshrine @gulaabjamun08 @athena-roy
I scrolled so fast, I thought your username was "match*tiye" 😭😭😭😔🙏
OMG do i need to change it?😭 Thats is crazyyy
Almost Professional
[akshaye khanna x reader]
Chapter 3: You Look Dangerous Tonight masterlist
Kiara should’ve known the night was going to end badly the second she saw his message.
Manager’s stuck in traffic. You’re coming with me. 7 PM. Don’t be late.
No explanation.
No greeting.
Just instructions.
Very Akshaye Khanna.
By the time she reached the hotel lobby, she was already regretting agreeing.
Mostly because of the dress.
It wasn’t dramatic—just elegant enough to make her feel suddenly aware of herself in a way she usually avoided.
And judging by the way he looked up when she arrived—
he noticed too.
He stopped mid-scroll on his phone.
Actually stopped.
His gaze moved over her once, slow enough to make her pulse jump.
Then back to her face.
“You’re late,” he said.
Kiara folded her arms immediately. “I’m early.”
“Hmm.”
“That’s not even your real issue right now.”
A faint smile appeared.
“There she is.”
She walked toward him, trying not to react to the way his eyes lingered again.
“You clean up nicely too,” she muttered.
“I know.”
“God, you’re annoying.”
“And yet,” he replied smoothly, holding the door open for her, “you came.”
The event became chaos almost instantly.
Music too loud.
People everywhere.
Cameras flashing every five seconds.
Kiara stayed close to him mostly because getting separated seemed impossible.
Not that he seemed to mind.
“You okay?” he asked quietly as they crossed the ballroom.
“Yeah,” she replied. “Just trying not to embarrass myself.”
“You won’t.”
“That confidence in me feels suspicious.”
“It’s accurate.”
That warmth again.
Unexpected every time.
Then came the problem.
“Kiara, right?”
A younger actor approached her with the kind of smile that usually belonged in advertisements.
“You look incredible tonight.”
Kiara laughed awkwardly. “Thank you.”
“You here with someone?”
“Yeah.”
The answer came immediately.
She looked up.
Akshaye had appeared beside her without her noticing, one hand settling lightly against her back.
Possessive enough to notice.
“She’s with me,” he added calmly.
Silence.
The actor recovered with an awkward smile before disappearing back into the crowd.
The second he left—
Kiara looked at him.
“…with you?”
His expression remained perfectly composed. “Would you rather I said no?”
“That’s not the point.”
“It solved the problem.”
“There wasn’t a problem.”
“He was flirting with you.”
The words came out sharper than intended.
Kiara blinked.
“You sound jealous.”
“I sound observant.”
“That’s not a denial.”
A pause.
Then—
“You look dangerous tonight,” he said instead.
Her stomach flipped instantly.
“That was smooth.”
“It worked.”
“Barely.”
But she was smiling.
And he noticed that too.
The night only got worse from there.
Or better.
Depending on how honest she wanted to be.
He kept drifting back toward her no matter who pulled him away.
Producers.
Actors.
Directors.
Every conversation somehow ended with his eyes searching the room for her again.
And every time he found her—
something in his expression softened.
Then came the drinks.
At first, it was manageable.
One glass.
Then another.
Then suddenly—
“You’re staring at me again,” Kiara said quietly as he leaned beside her at the bar.
“I’m appreciating.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m relaxed.”
“You’re absolutely drunk.”
A slow grin appeared.
“And you’re very pretty tonight.”
Her breath caught embarrassingly fast.
“Okay,” she muttered, looking away. “Definitely drunk.”
He laughed softly.
Warm.
Distracting.
“Come dance with me.”
Kiara blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“You hate dancing.”
“I hate people watching me dance.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
But before she could protest further—
he took her hand.
Not dramatic.
Not forceful.
Just natural enough that her heart immediately forgot how to function.
The dance floor was crowded, loud, impossible.
And somehow—
the moment he pulled her closer—
everything else blurred.
“You’re smiling,” he murmured.
“You’re impossible.”
“You like me.”
“That’s very bold for someone currently losing an argument with gravity.”
He laughed again, closer this time.
“You’re taking care of me.”
“I’m preventing headlines.”
“Same thing.”
His hand rested lightly at her waist.
Her fingers curled instinctively against his shoulder.
Too comfortable.
Way too comfortable.
Then—
he leaned closer.
Near enough that she could smell whiskey and cologne and something warm that was entirely him.
“You know what the problem is?” he asked quietly.
Kiara swallowed. “There are several.”
“You look at me differently now.”
Her pulse skipped.
“You’re drunk.”
“That’s not a no.”
She looked up at him then.
Really looked.
At the softened edges of him.
The honesty slipping through because he was too tired—or too intoxicated—to hide it properly.
“You flirt too much when you drink,” she whispered.
“No,” he murmured, gaze dropping briefly to her lips. “I just stop pretending I don’t want to.”
That—
that nearly destroyed her.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly. “You’re definitely going home.”
Getting him out of the event was harder than expected because apparently drunk Akshaye became clingy.
Which was information she absolutely did not need.
“You’re very bossy tonight.”
“You can barely walk straight.”
“I’m walking perfectly.”
“You almost walked into a plant.”
“The plant moved.”
Kiara laughed despite herself, guiding him toward the car.
And every time she touched his arm to steady him—
his attention snapped right back to her like nothing else existed.
By the time they reached his apartment, both of them were exhausted.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked as she unlocked the door for him.
“Yes.”
A beat.
“…no.”
She sighed. “Honest. Good start.”
Inside, he immediately loosened his tie and dropped onto the edge of the bed with a groan.
Kiara crossed her arms. “You’re impossible.”
“You’ve said that several times.”
“Because it remains true.”
He looked up at her then.
Quiet suddenly.
Less teasing.
“Stay until I fall asleep.”
That caught her completely off guard.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Probably.”
A pause.
Then softer—
“But stay anyway.”
And stupidly—
dangerously—
she wanted to.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Five minutes.”
A slow smile.
“Five minutes.”
She sat carefully on the edge of the bed beside him.
Too close immediately.
“You smell nice,” he murmured.
Kiara looked at him incredulously. “You cannot flirt your way through being drunk.”
“Watch me.”
She laughed before she could stop herself.
And his expression softened instantly at the sound.
Like he liked making her laugh a little too much.
“You should sleep,” she said quietly.
“You should stop looking at me like that.”
Her breath caught. “Like what?”
“Like you’re trying very hard not to kiss me.”
Silence.
Complete.
Dangerous.
“You are drunk,” she whispered.
“And you didn’t say no.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“Go to sleep,” she said quickly, trying to stand.
But his hand caught her wrist lightly.
Not stopping her.
Just there.
Warm.
“Kiara.”
The way he said her name—
soft, sleepy, honest—
felt worse somehow.
She looked down at him.
And suddenly he looked less like a famous actor and more like a man completely exhausted from pretending not to feel things.
“You stayed,” he murmured.
“Only because you’re impossible.”
A faint smile.
“Still stayed.”
Before she could answer—
he shifted slightly, still holding her wrist.
And somehow—
she lost balance.
With a surprised gasp, she fell sideways onto the bed beside him.
He laughed quietly.
Actually laughed.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re not leaving.”
She should have.
Absolutely should have.
Instead—
she tried to sit up—
and his arm tightened around her waist instinctively.
Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to stop her.
“Akshaye,” she whispered softly, trying to move again.
A sleepy sound left him, somewhere between a sigh and a quiet complaint, and he pulled her closer without even opening his eyes.
Kiara froze.
Because now she was fully against him—his arm heavy around her, his face turned slightly into her hair like this was the most natural thing in the world.
“You are unbelievably clingy when drunk,” she muttered under her breath.
No response.
Only his breathing evening out slowly.
She tried once more to shift away carefully—
and his grip tightened again.
Automatic.
Unconscious.
Like even half asleep, he knew she was leaving.
Her heart did something painfully soft at that.
“Seriously?” she whispered.
Still asleep, he frowned slightly and murmured something incoherent against her shoulder.
It sounded suspiciously like:
“Stay.”
And that—
that completely ruined whatever determination she had left.
Kiara looked down at him for a long moment.
At the softened expression.
The loosened guard.
The way he held onto her like he trusted her there.
“This is a terrible idea,” she whispered quietly.
But her hand still moved gently into his hair.
His expression relaxed instantly at the touch.
And somehow that made it worse.
She let out a slow breath, finally giving up on trying to leave.
“Fine,” she murmured softly. “Just tonight.”
Still half tangled against him, she carefully relaxed back into the pillows.
His arm stayed firm around her waist the entire time.
Like he had no intention of letting her go anywhere.
And sometime later—
listening to his slow breathing and feeling his heartbeat steadily beneath her cheek—
Kiara fell asleep too.
Still wrapped in his arms.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! taglist: @kisswithknife @chunkychocosblog @stoicepochmaw if anyone wanna be on this list please tell me<3
Ishq in the Spotlight
{Ranveer singh x oc}
Chapter 13 : “Wedding Prep Gone Wrong” 💍😭✨ masterlist
Three days after the engagement—
the entire country collectively decided:
this wedding belonged to them.
News channels had graphics.
GRAPHICS.
“#RanayaWedding: Venue Confirmed?” “Exclusive: What Will Shanaya Wear?” “Is Ranveer Planning A Palace Baraat?”
Meanwhile—
inside their apartment—
actual chaos.
—
“BABY.”
Shanaya didn’t look up from her laptop.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m asking.”
“I know your tone.”
“It’s husband tone.”
“It’s annoying tone.”
Ranveer entered the room dramatically—
holding an iPad full of sherwani references.
“Look at this masterpiece.”
Shanaya glanced once.
Then blinked.
“…why are there feathers?”
“Royal energy.”
“You look like an emotionally unstable peacock.”
He gasped.
“That’s the vision.”
—
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No human should sparkle this much.”
“I’m the groom.”
“You look like you’re attending the Met Gala in 2047.”
“Fashion is timeless.”
“Fashion is crying.”
From the couch—
Karan Johar looked deeply offended.
“I personally approved that outfit.”
Shanaya pointed immediately.
“HIM. HE’S ENCOURAGING YOU.”
Karan adjusted his sunglasses dramatically.
“And proudly.”
—
Big mistake.
Because now—
Karan had fully inserted himself into wedding planning.
Without permission.
“Listen,” Karan announced, pacing around their apartment like a stressed bride’s mother, “the aesthetic needs emotional richness.”
“What does that even mean?” Shanaya asked.
“It means candles.”
“We already have candles,” Ranveer said.
“More candles.”
“We’ll die.”
“But aesthetically.”
Two hours later—
their living room looked like a luxury wedding Pinterest board exploded.
And somehow—
Bollywood had also become involved.
For absolutely no reason.
—
Alia Bhatt had made a wedding planning group chat called:
“RANAYA SHAADI WAR ROOM 💍🔥”
Members included: Half the industry somehow
—
Messages arrived every three seconds.
ALIA: don’t let ranveer choose horses. he’ll arrive on a dragon.
VARUN: let him. content milega.
KARAN: I support the dragon concept.
Shanaya threw her phone away.
“I hate all of you.”
Ranveer looked emotional.
“They believe in me.”
Wedding shopping became worse.
Much worse.
—
“ABSOLUTELY not,” Shanaya said as Ranveer walked out in another sherwani.
“This one is subtle.”
“YOU HAVE A CAPE.”
“It flows when I walk.”
“You are not entering your wedding like a Marvel character.”
Karan whispered from behind: “…but imagine the slow-motion shot.”
“STOP ENCOURAGING HIM.”
Then—
the jewelry trial happened.
And unfortunately—
Ranveer discovered accessories.
—
“Why are there six necklaces?” Shanaya asked weakly.
“Layering.”
“You’re the groom, not a chandelier.”
“Fashion requires sacrifice.”
“You’re sacrificing my peace.”
—
At one point—
he tried on sunglasses with the sherwani.
Inside.
At night.
“You can’t wear sunglasses at the wedding.”
“I’m protecting my eyes from my own shine.”
—
Meanwhile—
their parents had become terrifyingly comfortable.
Her mother and his mother now traveled together.
Shared reels.
Discussed guest lists like CEOs.
“Your son wants fog machines,” Shanaya complained.
His mother sighed tiredly.
“I know.”
“He wants violinists descending from stairs.”
“I KNOW.”
“He suggested fireworks indoors.”
“We’re trying to manage him.”
Ranveer looked betrayed.
“No one respects artistic vision.”
—
Then came dance rehearsals.
Big mistake.
Ranveer treated the sangeet like a stadium concert.
“Energy!” he yelled.
“This is not Coachella,” Shanaya snapped.
“It’s OUR LOVE STORY.”
“You’ve had four coffees.”
“And I regret NOTHING.”
—
During rehearsal—
he slid dramatically across the floor.
Immediately lost balance.
And crashed into Varun.
—
Silence.
Then—
the room exploded laughing.
Varun wheezed on the floor: “Bhai got taken out by his own romance.”
Shanaya laughed so hard she cried.
And honestly?
Ranveer didn’t even care.
Because she looked beautiful when she laughed like that.
—
Later that night—
after everyone finally left—
the apartment was quiet again
For once.
Shopping bags everywhere.
Music still faintly playing.
Their exhausted bodies collapsed onto the couch.
“…our wedding is insane,” Shanaya whispered.
“Our wedding is iconic.”
“You wanted 30 horses”
“I still do.”
“No.”
“What about two horses?”
“Ranveer.”
“Okay okay.”
A pause.
Then softly—
“…you happy?”
She looked at him.
Really looked.
At the excitement in his eyes.
The ridiculous joy.
The overwhelming love he carried so openly.
—
And suddenly—
she felt it too.
All of it
The chaos.
The people.
The madness.
—
Worth it.
Because it led to this.
To him.
—
“I think,” she smiled softly, “you might actually be more excited than me.”
He looked offended.
“Might?”
She laughed.
“You’ve planned six outfit changes.”
“Seven.”
“SEVEN??”
“One for emotional range.”
She fell back against the couch laughing.
“God, I’m marrying a disaster.”
He pulled her closer instantly.
“A disaster you’re obsessed with.”
“…unfortunately.”
“Liar.”
“…a little.”
—
Outside—
the nation waited for a wedding.
But inside—
between dramatic sherwanis,
group chat chaos,
and one overexcited groom—
they were already building something bigger than the event itself.
A life.
Loud.
Chaotic.
And completely in love. 💍✨
ranveersingh & shanayaa: Our little forever in progress 💍
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Sorry for late updates, my health has not been best but i'll start uploading again.
taglist-@mylifesalreadyfucked @bittermiseryy @manjari08 @roses-and-iron @bobcuts-blog
Ishq in the Spotlight
{Ranveer singh x oc} masterlist
ranveersingh & shanayaa: {public post}
“it started with scenes, lines, and a little too much chemistry… and somehow turned into something we couldn’t walk away from. we tried to keep it simple, to keep it private—but some stories don’t stay quiet. so here we are… not just co-stars, not just ‘figuring it out’ anymore—just two people, a little chaotic, a little emotional, and completely in love.” 😭💖
read their proposal on ch12
Ishq in the Spotlight
{Ranveer singh x oc}
Chapter 12 : “ From reel to forever"🎬💍✨ masterlist
The night didn’t begin with chaos.
It began quietly.
Shanaya stood by the window, the city glowing beneath her, the reflection of her own nervous smile staring back.
Behind her—
Ranveer adjusted his jacket, watching her instead of the mirror.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said softly.
“I always do.”
“Not tonight.”
She turned.
“Why not tonight?”
He walked closer.
Slower than usual.
Gentler.
“Because tonight… just feel it.”
—
She studied him.
“…you’re suspicious,” she murmured.
He smiled faintly. “You love it.”
“…unfortunately.”
—
The drive to the awards was quieter than usual.
No teasing.
No chaos.
Just— their hands finding each other in the dark,
fingers intertwining like it had always been that way.
The red carpet was everything they expected.
Flashes.
Voices.
Their names blending into one.
“RANAYA! RANAYA!”
She exhaled.
He leaned in slightly.
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“You’re panicking.”
“I’m glowing.”
“You’re lying.”
“…a little.”
—
“sir maam thoda pass!” the photographers yelled.
They stepped closer.
“Uff kya jodi hai”
She laughed
Ranveer didn’t respond.
He just—
held her hand a little tighter.
—
Inside, the lights dimmed.
The world softened.
“Best Actress…”
Her name echoed.
Her heart stuttered.
His thumb brushed over her knuckles.
“I’m here,” he whispered.
“…and the award goes to—Shanaya.”
—
Everything blurred.
But one thing stayed clear— him
On stage—
she smiled and said her speech
But her voice softened when she said—
“…and to the person who reminded me who I am… when everything got too loud.”
The camera found Ranveer.
And for once—
he didn’t play it off.
He just looked at her.
Like the room didn’t exist.
—
Later—
“Best Actor…”
His name.
He walked up.
Confident
But his eyes—
never left her.
“I had a speech,” he began.
A breath
“But I think… I want to say something else tonight.”
—
He stepped down from the stage.
The audience gasped.
Shanaya frowned slightly.
“Ranveer…?”
He didn’t answer.
He just walked toward her, slowly but Certain.
—
When he reached her—
he didn’t speak immediately.
He just looked at her.
Like he had a thousand times before—
but this time meant something more.
“I’ve spent so much time trying to not mess this up,” he said quietly. “Trying to control it. Protect it.”
Her breath caught.
“But somewhere between the chaos… and the quiet moments…”
A small smile.
“I realized… it was never fragile.”
—
He took her hand.
“It was always you.”
Tears filled her eyes instantly.
“I don’t want to keep calling this ‘figuring it out’ anymore,” he continued. “I don’t want temporary. I don’t want almost.”
His voice softened.
“I want you. Fully. Forever.”
The world disappeared.
—
He reached into his pocket.
Her heart stopped.
And then—
“Main thoda dramatic hoon… thoda annoying bhi, aur haan, towels galat jagah pe chhod deta hoon.”
she laughs through tears
“Par ek cheez bilkul sahi ki hai maine…” “tumse pyaar.”
A step closer.
he went down on one knee
"mujhse shaadi karogi?"
—
She shook her head slightly.
Overwhelmed.
Smiling through tears.
“You couldn’t do this… somewhere normal?” she whispered.
He smiled up at her.
“When has anything with us been normal?”
She laughed.
Cried
“…yes,” she whispered.
Then louder—
“yes.”
—
The room erupted.
But it felt distant.
Muted.
Because all she could hear—
was her own heartbeat.
And his.
He stood up—
pulled her into him—
and this time,
they didn’t hold back.
—
The kiss was soft,
Certain
Like a promise.
Backstage—
their families watched.
Her mother wiped a tear.
“…he chose well.”
His mom smiled. “They both did.”
—
Back on stage—
he slipped the ring onto her finger.
Perfect.
Like it had been waiting.
“You’re stuck with me now,” she murmured.
He leaned closer.
“I’ve been stuck for a while.”
She laughed softly.
Resting her forehead against his.
—
Outside—
the world exploded.
Headlines.
Clips.
History being written in real time.
—
But inside—
in that moment,
between trembling hands,
quiet smiles,
and a love that had finally been said out loud—
they weren’t actors.
They weren’t a story.
—
They were just—
two people
who stopped running, stopped overthinking,
and chose each other.
Completely.
Forever. 💍✨
ranveersingh & shanayaa: “we said we’ll behave… clearly we didn’t 💍🤭”
comments:
kjo : “I invite people for Koffee… and they serve me a wedding. Proud of my children 💍☕”
aliaabhatt:“okay but WHY am I crying like it’s my own wedding 😭💍”
deepikapadukone:“this is what happens when you mix talent + feelings ❤️”
varundvn:“bhai ne award jeeta aur life bhi… respect🫡”
ananyapanday:“excuse me??? this is too cute STOP 😭✨”
fanreply1: KARAN YOU KNEW DIDN’T YOU 😭
ranayaforever: I JUST SCREAMED IN PUBLIC THIS IS NOT NORMAL 😭💀
bollytea: THEY REALLY SAID “soft launch? no FULL PROPOSAL” 💍
detectivefan: remember when people said “PR relationship” 🤡 WHERE NOW
chaoticenergy: bro didn’t propose… he ANNOUNCED
viralclips: the way she CRIED??? the way he LOOKED??? I’m gone
maincharacter: this is straight up climax scene energy 🎬
next ch
This fanfic is about to end in some more chapters. thank you for reading this, stay tuned<3
taglist- @mylifesalreadyfucked @bittermiseryy @manjari08 @roses-and-iron
Ishq in the Spotlight
{Ranveer singh x oc}
Chapter 11 : “Like a married couple ” 💍✨ masterlist
Living together was—
not calm.
Not organized.
Definitely not aesthetic like Shanaya had imagined.
It was—
“RANVEER Why is there a wet towel on the bed?”
Silence.
“…define wet.”
“IT’S SOAKING.”
“Okay first of all, that’s an exaggeration.”
She held it up, It dripped.
“…THIS is your definition of exaggeration??”
“I was going to dry it.”
“On the BED??”
“It’s a big surface.”
She stared at him.
“ You have chairs AND You have a whole balcony.”
“The bed felt emotionally right.”
“The bed is not part of your emotional journey.”
“Okay,” he said, defensive now, “at least I don’t use five towels a day.”
“I do NOT—”
“You do.”
“I use two.”
“I’ve counted six.”
“Those are for different purposes!”
“What purposes require six towels??”
“Hair. Face. Body. Backup. Emergency.”
“Emergency towel???”
“You never know.”
—
She turned dramatically. “I can’t live like this.”
“You literally live here.”
“I will move out.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
“You’ll miss me.”
She threw the towel at him.
He caught it.
“Wife behavior.”
“Don’t start.”
“Too late.”
—
Mornings were chaos.
Evenings were louder.
But nights? Soft.
“Coffee?” he asked one morning.
She blinked. “You made coffee?”
“Yes.”
She took a sip.
Paused.
“…Why does it taste like personality?”
“Because it has mine.”
“It’s too strong.”
“So am I.”
She rolled her eyes.
But drank it anyway.
—
“Pass me that file,” she said one afternoon, half-focused on her script.
He didn’t move.
“Ranveer.”
“Hm?”
“You’re sitting on it.”
“I live here now.”
“You’re unbearable.”
“You’re smiling.”
“…shut up.”
It was stupid.
Domestic.
Messy.
And dangerously comfortable.
“Honestly,” Shanaya said one night, curled up on the couch, “we act like a married couple.”
Ranveer didn’t even look up from his phone.
“We basically are.”
She froze.
“…Excuse me?”
“We fight, we eat together, we annoy each other—what’s left?”
“A LOT,” she said quickly.
He glanced at her.
Smirked.
“Scared?”
“Of you? Always.”
“Good.”
She threw a pillow.
Again.
But later that night—
when he fell asleep beside her arm loosely around her—
that line came back.
We basically are.
And for once—
it didn’t feel like a joke.
—
Then—
reality returned.
“New shoot,” Shanaya said, packing her bag.
“Where?”
“Jaipur. Three days.”
“Who’s the co-star?”
“Ahaan.”
A beat.
“…Ahaan who?”
She gave him a look.
“Ahaan Panday.”
“…OH.”
—
Ranveer smiled.
Too casually.
“Nice.”
“Don’t start.”
“I didn’t start anything.”
“You’re about to.”
“I’m calm.”
“You’re suspiciously calm.”
“I trust you.”
She raised an eyebrow “…but?”
“…but I don’t trust Ahaan.”
She laughed. “You don’t even know him.”
“I’ve seen his one interview”
“That’s not evidence.”
“It’s enough.”
—
Shoot day.
Jaipur.
Wedding sequence.
Full setup—
lehenga, lights, music, flowers—
and Shanaya looking like she walked straight out of a dream.
Ranveer saw the first pictures online.
And paused, Because
Anyone would look twice.
—
Then the clips started.
Behind-the-scenes laughter.
Ahaan fixing her dupatta.
Shanaya smiling.
Comments flooded:
“NEW CHEMISTRY???” “Ranaya who??” “Ahaan + Shanaya look 🔥”
—
Ranveer locked his phone.
Opened it again.
Closed it.
“…I’m fine,” he muttered.
He was not fine.
That night on video call.
“Hi,” Shanaya smiled.
“Hi.”
“You look weird.”
“I always look like this.”
“No, you look… quiet.”
“I’m peaceful.”
“You’re jealous.”
“I’m observant.”
She laughed. “Ranveer.”
“What?”
“Say it.”
He sighed.
“…I didn’t like the clips.”
Her expression softened instantly.
“They’re just scenes,” she said gently.
“I know.”
“It’s work.”
“I know that too.”
A pause.
Then quieter—
“…doesn’t mean I like it.”
—
She leaned closer to the screen.
“Hey.”
He looked at her.
“That?” she pointed vaguely. “That’s acting.”
“This?” she placed a hand on her chest.
“Is real.”
—
Silence.
Soft.
Settling.
“You’re not replaceable,” she added.
“Good,” he said. “Because I’m not leaving.”
“Me neither.”
A small smile returned.
“Also,” she added, smirking, “he’s too polished.”
Ranveer blinked. “What?”
“I like my people slightly chaotic.”
He sat up straighter. “That’s me.”
“That’s unfortunately you.”
—
Back home—
three days later—
the door barely closed before—
“Missed you,” he said.
“Obviously,” she replied.
“You didn’t even try to hide it.”
“I didn’t want to.”
He pulled her closer.
No hesitation.
No jokes.
Just real.
—
Later—
they sat on the floor, surrounded by half-unpacked bags again.
“You know,” Shanaya said, resting her head on his shoulder, “this whole long-distance thing…”
“Don’t like it,” he finished.
“Not even a little.”
“Same.”
Then—
“Then we should do something” she said.
He blinked.
“…We already live together.”
“I mean properly properly.”
“Define that.”
“No more ‘temporary’ feeling.”
“No exit plan?”
She nodded.
He looked at her, Really looked.
And something shifted.
“…okay,” he said.
“Okay?” she repeated.
“Okay.”
—
“Ranveer?” she said softly.
“Hmm?”
“This is starting to feel like…”
She trailed off.
He didn’t push.
Didn’t rush it.
“…like what?”
She smiled faintly.
“…something long-term.”
He exhaled slowly.
Because he felt it too.
Had been feeling it.
Just hadn’t said it out loud yet.
—
“Good,” he said finally.
“Good?” she laughed.
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“Because I don’t want anything short-term with you.”
Her heart skipped.
“Like…” he hesitated.
Rare.
“…I can actually see this. Us. Future and all.”
She looked at him.
Really looked.
“No chaos?”
“Plenty of chaos,” he said. “But… together.”
“Careful,” she teased. “You’re sounding like husband material.”
He smirked.
“Practice makes perfect.”
—
She nudged him.
But didn’t move away.
Outside—
the world kept talking.
Shipping.
Comparing.
Judging.
But inside between messy rooms,
shared coffee,
jealousy that turned into reassurance—
and laughter that never really stopped—
they were building something.
And somewhere between
“we basically are” and
“I can see a future”
they had already crossed a line.
They just hadn’t named it yet. 💍✨
next part
taglist- @mylifesalreadyfucked @bittermiseryy @manjari08 @roses-and-iron
Almost Professional
[akshaye khanna x reader]
Chapter 2: Closer Than Necessary masterlist
By day four, Kiara had stopped pretending this was just a normal job.
Because normal jobs didn’t come with this kind of… awareness.
_
“Coffee. That’s all I’m asking.”
Kiara looked up from her screen, lips curving slightly despite herself. “You’ve asked three times.”
Aarav grinned, unfazed. “And you haven’t said no.”
“That’s not a yes either.”
“It’s progress.”
She shook her head, amused. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
“I work in production,” he said. “Confidence is survival.”
“Kiara.”
Her name.
Low. Even.
Too familiar already.
She didn’t react immediately this time.
Didn’t rush.
Just closed her tablet slowly and turned.
Akshaye Khanna stood near the doorway, one hand in his pocket, watching.
Not interrupting.
Not repeating himself.
Just… waiting.
And somehow, that felt more intentional than calling her again.
“One minute,” she said to Aarav, her voice calm.
“Take your time,” he replied easily.
Kiara stood, walking toward Akshaye without hurrying.
That was new.
“The printed call sheet,” he said as she approached.
“I sent it to your email.”
“I asked for a hard copy.”
A small pause.
“You didn’t,” she said lightly.
A flicker in his eyes.
“You should’ve anticipated it.”
Kiara exhaled softly, almost smiling. “Of course.”
She moved past him toward the printer.
And—
as expected—
he followed.
The hallway was quieter than the main office.
Dimmer.
Closer.
“You said you’d text him.”
She didn’t turn right away.
Let the silence stretch just slightly.
“I said I might.”
“That sounded definite.”
The printer started humming.
Paper sliding out slowly, filling the pause.
“Are you keeping track?” she asked, glancing back at him.
He was closer now.
Not invading.
Just… present.
“I notice things,” he said.
She held his gaze for a second longer than necessary.
Then turned back.
“You’re considering it,” he added.
Kiara picked up the printed pages, aligning them carefully.
Buying herself a second.
“Shouldn’t I?” she said, finally turning back.
That—
shifted something.
He stepped closer.
Just one step.
Enough.
“You don’t seem unsure,” he said.
“I’m not,” she replied.
And this time—
her voice didn’t waver.
The space between them tightened.
Not dramatically.
Just enough that she felt it—
the awareness, the proximity, the way the conversation wasn’t really about coffee anymore.
“It’s just coffee,” she said, quieter now.
His gaze dropped—briefly.
To her hand.
To the papers.
Then back to her eyes.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it is.”
A pause.
Longer now.
“Then go.”
Simple.
Controlled.
Kiara didn’t move.
Didn’t step back.
“You don’t sound like you mean that,” she said softly.
Something flickered in his expression.
Gone too fast to name.
“I mean exactly what I said.”
She watched him carefully.
Then just slightly—
tilted her head.
“Okay,” she said.
And that—
that did it.
Because she wasn’t arguing.
Wasn’t backing down.
Wasn’t reassuring him either.
She just… accepted it.
His jaw tightened.
Subtle.
But there.
“Kiara,” he said, voice lower now.
“Yes?”
“You’re enjoying this.”
Her breath caught—just slightly.
“Enjoying what?” she asked, though she knew.
“This,” he said, a small gesture between them. “Pushing back. Not answering properly.”
A pause.
Then soft, but steady—
“Maybe a little.”
Silence stretched.
Thicker now.
“You get quiet when you’re thinking too much,” he said.
“And you get difficult when you don’t like something,” she replied.
A beat.
His eyes held hers.
Sharpened.
Interested.
“That’s not what this is.”
“No?” she asked.
Another step closer.
too close to ignore.
“Then what is it?” she said, her voice softer now.
For a second—
he didn’t answer.
Just looked at her.
Like he was deciding how much to say.
Then—
quietly—
“I don’t like distractions.”
Her pulse quickened.
“And I am one?” she asked.
A pause.
His gaze didn’t leave hers.
“You could be.”
That changed something.
The air shifted.
Warmer.
Closer.
Kiara didn’t step back.
Didn’t look away.
“Then maybe,” she said softly, “you should stop paying attention.”
A slow exhale.
Almost a laugh.
“Not that simple.”
“No?” she asked.
“No.”
Another pause.
Then suddenly—
voices down the hallway.
Crew passing by.
The moment cracked—
just slightly.
Kiara stepped back first this time.
Just enough.
“Here,” she said, handing him the call sheet.
Their fingers brushed again.
Not accidental.
Not entirely.
He took it—
but didn’t look at it.
“Don’t go if you don’t want to,” he said again.
Kiara met his gaze.
Steady now.
“I won’t do anything I don’t want to,” she said.
A beat.
“And if I go,” she added, “it’ll be because I chose to.”
Silence.
That confidence—
new.
His expression shifted again.
Something quieter this time.
Less sharp.
More… focused.
“I’m sure,” he said slowly, “you’ll make the right choice.”
She smiled.
Small.
Knowing.
“I usually do.”
Another second.
Neither moving.
Then—
“Don’t be late tomorrow,” he said.
She almost laughed.
“I won’t,” she replied.
She turned—
walked back toward her desk.
Steady.
Composed.
Didn’t look back.
But she could feel it.
His gaze.
Still there.
Across the hallway—
Akshaye Khanna stood with the call sheet in his hand, completely unread.
His attention nowhere near it.
“…coffee,” he muttered under his breath.
Yeah.
Still a problem.
But now—
it wasn’t one-sided.
next part
Thank you for reading ♡ if you want me to start taglist comment
Almost Professional
[akshaye khanna x reader]
Chapter 1: That Wasn’t in the Job Description masterlist
Kiara’s first mistake?
Walking in too confidently.
Her second?
Making eye contact.
The office door was half open when she knocked.
“Come in,” a voice said—calm, distracted.
She stepped inside, heels clicking once against the floor before she stopped.
And there he was.
Akshaye Khanna sat behind the desk, reading something with full focus, like the rest of the world didn’t exist unless he allowed it to.
For a second, Kiara just… stood there.
Not because she didn’t know what to say.
Because she forgot how to start.
“Are you going to say something,” he said without looking up, “or just stand there dramatically?”
Her brain restarted instantly. “Right. Sorry. I’m—Kiara. Your new assistant.”
He turned the page.
Still didn’t look at her.
“I know.”
That threw her off. “You do?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “I approved your hiring.”
“Oh.”
Pause.
“…right.”
Okay. Not off to a great start.
She stepped forward, placing her folder on the desk. “I’ve reviewed your schedule—there are overlaps on Thursday and—”
“Sit.”
She blinked. “Sorry?”
“Sit,” he repeated, finally looking up.
And that—
That was worse.
Because now his attention was fully on her.
Not casual. Not passing.
Focused.
Kiara pulled the chair out and sat, suddenly very aware of how close she was.
“You’re nervous,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m really not.”
A beat.
He tilted his head slightly. “You just contradicted yourself twice in five seconds.”
She exhaled. “Okay, I’m a little nervous.”
“Better.”
He leaned back, studying her like she was part of the script he’d just been reading.
“You’ve worked with actors before?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Anyone difficult?”
She hesitated.
His eyebrow lifted.
“Define difficult,” she said carefully.
A corner of his mouth twitched. “Good answer.”
She opened her folder again, trying to regain control of the conversation. “As I was saying—Thursday, you have a brand meeting at 4 and a narration at 4:30. That won’t work unless—”
“It won’t.”
“I know.”
“So fix it.”
“I was going to.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
Kiara paused.
Then slowly closed the folder.
“Because,” she said, meeting his gaze properly now, “it’s my first day, and I thought I should at least pretend to consult you.”
A beat.
Silence.
Then—
He smiled.
Not big.
Not obvious.
But real.
“Alright,” he said. “You can stay.”
She blinked. “That was under consideration?”
“Everything is under consideration.”
Okay.
So this was how it was going to be.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, flipping a page. “Your call times keep shifting. Your manager mentioned you tend to—”
“Adjust.”
“Disrupt,” she corrected.
His gaze sharpened slightly. “Careful.”
“You hired me to manage your schedule,” she said evenly. “Not admire it.”
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then he leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the desk.
“Most people,” he said quietly, “don’t correct me on day one.”
Kiara didn’t move.
Didn’t look away.
“Most people probably don’t last long either.”
That landed.
Something in his expression shifted—not annoyance.
Interest.
“Alright, Kiara,” he said, her name slower this time, like he was getting used to it. “Let’s try something.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s simple,” he said. “You fix my schedule this week without asking me unnecessary questions—”
“And if I do?”
“I won’t replace you.”
She stared at him.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. “That’s a terrible motivational strategy.”
“It’s effective.”
“It’s manipulative.”
“It’s honest.”
Kiara held his gaze, then let out a short breath that almost turned into a laugh.
“You’re a lot,” she said.
“I’ve been told.”
Silence again—but different now.
Less awkward.
More… aware.
“Fine,” she said, standing up and picking up her folder. “I’ll fix Thursday. And the rest of the week. Without ‘unnecessary questions.’”
“Good.”
She turned to leave—
“Kiara.”
She stopped.
Looked back.
He was watching her again.
That same focused, unreadable look.
“Yes?”
A slight pause.
Then—
“Don’t be late tomorrow.”
She frowned. “I wasn’t late today.”
“You were two minutes early,” he said. “Which means you’ll try to be exactly on time tomorrow.”
“…and?”
“I don’t like unpredictability.”
Kiara raised an eyebrow. “From what I’ve heard, that’s ironic.”
Another flicker of that almost-smile.
“Go fix Thursday,” he said.
She stepped out of the office, closing the door behind her.
And only then did she exhale properly.
Okay.
So.
New job.
Difficult boss.
Unreasonable expectations.
And—
She paused mid-step.
Because there was something else.
Something she hadn’t expected.
The way he looked at her.
Like he was already trying to figure her out.
Kiara shook her head, muttering under her breath.
“Yeah,” she said to herself. “This is definitely going to be a problem.”
Inside the office, Akshaye Khanna glanced at the closed door for a second longer than necessary.
Then back at his script.
Then—
a faint, thoughtful smile.
next part
Ishq in the Spotlight
{Ranveer singh x oc}
Chapter 10: “From Set to Same Bed” 👀 masterlist
Release day.
9 AM
Shanaya’s phone exploded like it had a personal vendetta.
“Ranveer…” she whispered.
From under the blanket: “If this is another meme of me crying, I refuse to wake up.”
“It’s not a meme.”
Pause.
“…it’s worse.”
He sat up instantly. “WHAT?”
She turned the screen.
BLOCKBUSTER. CHEMISTRY OF THE YEAR. THEY’RE DEFINITELY IN LOVE.
Ranveer blinked.
“…oh.”
A beat.
“…OH.”
—
By noon, they were trending.
By evening—
they had a ship name.
“RANAYA???” Shanaya stared at her phone.
Ranveer looked proud. “That’s actually solid branding.”
She hit him with a cushion. “We are not a brand.”
“We are a phenomenon.”
“Stop talking.”
—
Premiere night?
Absolute chaos.
Fans screaming their names together.
Cameras flashing.
“Stand closer!” photographers yelled.
They did.
“Closer!” They did.
“CLOSER—”
“Okay relax,” Shanaya laughed—but her hand had already slipped into his.
Naturally.
Like it belonged there.
“Are you dating?” someone shouted.
Shanaya smiled. “Watch the film.”
Ranveer added, “Then rewatch it.”
She glared. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it.”
“…unfortunately.”
—
The film became a HIT.
Songs viral.
Scenes iconic.
Their chemistry?
Unavoidable.
And then—
real life kicked in.
New films.
Different cities.
Different schedules.
—
“Your flight?”
“6 AM.”
“when will you be back?”
“Monday.”
“Oh but i will leave on Sunday”
“Oh..k”
—
Missed calls and late replies,
But they missed each other, A Lot.
One night—
1:17 AM
On a Video call.
Both exhausted.
Both quiet.
“This feels stupid,” Shanaya said.
“What does?”
“Scheduling us.”
Ranveer sighed. “Welcome to our lives.”
She shook her head.
“No. I don’t like it.”
“…Same.”
Then—
“Move in with me.”
Silence.
“…That was aggressive,” he said.
“Efficient.”
“…I’m in.”
—
Two weeks later—
Chaos.
Boxes, Clothes and Zero organization.
“WHY do you have SO MANY JACKETS??”
“WHY do you have SO MANY CANDLES??”
“They’re aesthetic!”
“They’re a fire hazard!”
“You’re dramatic!”
“You love it!”
“I do.”
—
She tried reaching a shelf behind him.
He didn’t move.
“You’re blocking me.”
“I live here now.”
“You’re annoying.”
“You’re smiling.”
“…shut up.”
Their hands brushed.
And suddenly—
the argument paused.
The air shifted.
—
“You’re distracting,” she muttered.
“You weren’t complaining yesterday.”
She froze.
“…Ranveer.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t start.”
“Too late.”
A step closer.
A look held a second too long.
Boxes forgotten.
“Focus,” she whispered.
“You first.”
“Idiot.”
“Come here.”
—
“Guys??”
They both jumped apart.
Door open.
Silence.
“…MOM???”
Her mother stood there.
Taking it all in.
Boxes.
Ad him
—
Ranveer straightened like he was at a job interview. “Hello. Hi. Namaste. Good evening.”
Shanaya whispered, “Why are you glitching?”
“I’m meeting your mother.”
“You’ve moved in,” her mom said calmly.
“Yes,” Shanaya replied.
“Mutual decision,” Ranveer added quickly.
“…I assumed.”
A pause.
Then—
“You’re older.”
Shanaya closed her eyes. “Here we go.”
Ranveer smiled politely. “Slightly.”
“Slightly?” her mom repeated.
“…respectfully slightly.”
Shanaya choked.
—
“Does it bother you?” her mom asked.
Silence.
This mattered.
Ranveer didn’t joke.
“No,” he said. “Not when I’m with her.”
“And when you’re not?”
“…I overthink it.”
Shanaya softened.
“But I don’t let that change how I feel,” he added.
A pause.
Her mom nodded.
“…Good.”
“Wait that’s it??” Shanaya blinked.
“For now.”
“FOR NOW???”
“I like him,” her mom said simply.
Ranveer exhaled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
“…understood.”
—
Next day—
Round two.
His parents.
His mom hugged Shanaya instantly. “Oh she’s beautiful.”
“And patient,” she added, looking at Ranveer.
“HEY.”
Dinner was chaos.
“So how did you meet?” “Work,” Shanaya said.
“Destiny,” Ranveer added.
She kicked him.
“OW.”
“And the age gap?” his dad asked.
Shanaya answered first.
“We’re good.”
His mom smiled. “That’s enough.”
Ranveer blinked. “…That was easy.”
“Don’t overthink it,” she said.
He glanced at Shanaya.
Message received.
—
That night—
Apartment finally quiet.
They collapsed on the couch.
“We survived,” Shanaya said.
“Barely,” Ranveer replied.
“Your parents love me.”
“They have excellent taste.”
“My mom is still evaluating you.”
“I’m under review.”
“You’re on probation.”
“Unfair.”
“Deserved.”
—
Then laughter.
Soft.
Easy.
Theirs.
“You handled everything well,” she said.
“So did you.”
“Team effort.”
“Always.”
He leaned closer.
This time—
no interruption.
No hesitation.
Just… them.
—
“You know,” he murmured, “we still haven’t finished unpacking.”
She smirked.
“We keep getting distracted.”
“Very distracting environment.”
“Very.”
She rested her forehead against his.
“You’re not backing out, right?”
“Not a chance.”
“You?”
“Never.”
—
Outside—
their lives were chaos.
Fame. Distance. Opinions.
But Inside—
this messy apartment—
this slightly ridiculous, very real life—
they had something steady.
Something chosen.
—
A little chaotic.
A little intense.
And completely—
theirs. 😏💖✨
shanayaa & ranveersingh [pvt story]: moving in<3
replies-
kjo: I’d like credit for this relationship, thank you very much.
aliabhatt: not y’all playing house already 👀
kareenakapoor: popcorn ready for next episode 🍿
siddhantt: so when’s the shaadi or are we skipping steps?
next part
taglist- @mylifesalreadyfucked @bittermiseryy @manjari08 @roses-and-iron
Between Borders and Lies
Chapter 9.2 : "Proposal" masterlist
The house felt… different. Not heavy, not tense
Just warmer.
For the first time—
Hamza wasn’t standing at a distance.
He was sitting.
Right there with them.
Uzair beside him, not across.
Not observing.
Talking.
—
“Don’t act like you weren’t late,” Uzair said, smirking.
“I wasn’t late,” Hamza replied calmly. “You were early.”
“That’s called being responsible.”
“That’s called having no life.”
A small laugh escaped from the corner.
Even Rehman didn’t interrupt this time.
He watched.
Quietly.
Because this—
this was what he wanted.
Not just loyalty.
Connection.
From the side, Ulfat placed tea down.
“Good,” she said softly. “At least now this house sounds alive.”
-
Uzair leaned back slightly.
“Don’t get used to it.”
Hamza glanced at him. “You started it.”
“Lies.”
“Facts.”
Rehman exhaled lightly.
“Enough.”
Not strict.
Just enough to shift the moment.
—
He looked at Uzair.
Then at Hamza.
Then—
spoke.
“We’ve been thinking about something.”
The tone changed.
Not heavy.
But… important.
Uzair straightened slightly.
Hamza’s expression stilled.
—
“Laiba.”
Just her name.
Simple.
—
Hamza didn’t react outwardly.
But his fingers tightened slightly
Uzair blinked.
"We want her to be a part of this house..and for uzair"
Then uzair looked down—
a small, unguarded smile slipping through before he could stop it.
—
“…You’re serious?” he asked quietly.
“For things like this, always,” Rehman replied.
Uzair exhaled.
Not tense.
Not uncertain.
Just… overwhelmed in a way he didn’t hide well.
“I’m not against it,” he admitted.
That was an understatement.
—
Hamza noticed the shift instantly.
The way Uzair’s tone softened.
The way his focus changed.
That wasn’t strategy.
That was something else.
—
Rehman turned to Hamza.
“Bring her.”
Hamza nodded once and smiled
Outwardly—
acceptance.
Inwardly—
calculation.
If Laiba was inside this house—
she would see everything.
Hear everything.
Move freely where others couldn’t.
Information didn’t come from force.
It came from access
And access just got easier.
—
The drive was quiet.
“You’re not talking,” Laiba said.
“You are,” Hamza replied.
“That’s because you’re being suspicious.”
He didn’t deny it.
“…This is about them, right?” she asked.
A pause.
“…Yeah.”
She leaned back slightly.
“Okay, that’s not comforting.”
“It’s not supposed to be,” he said. "jo bhi ho tu apna dhyaan rakhna"
She looked at him again.
Longer this time.
“…You’re thinking too much.”
He almost smiled.
If only she knew.
—
The house.
Laiba stepped in—
and immediately felt it.
Attention.
Focused.
Measured.
“Wow,” she muttered softly. “This is definitely a setup.”
Hamza didn’t respond.
Uzair stood near the center.
The moment she entered—
he noticed.
Not casually.
Not briefly.
Fully.
Like everything else in the room faded for a second.
—
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he replied.
And for once—
his voice wasn’t controlled.
It was softer.
Warmer.
They sat
Closer than expected.
—
Ulfat spoke first.
“Laiba, you trust Hamza?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“And where he stands?”
“…I trust that too.”
—
Rehman didn’t stretch the moment.
“We want you here.”
Simple.
Direct.
She blinked. “…Here?”
“In this family,” Ulfat clarified.
—
Silence.
Laiba’s eyes moved—
first to Hamza.
He held her gaze this time.
Steady.
“I wouldn’t have brought you if it wasn’t right,” he said.
Then—
she looked at Uzair and something shifted.
He wasn’t just watching.
He was… looking.
Like he was already trying to understand her.
Remember her.
Hold onto the moment.
—
“I won’t pressure you,” he said
“But I won’t lie either.”
His voice softened slightly.
“…I want this. I really like you”
That landed.
Not forcefully.
But deeply.
—
Laiba’s breath slowed.
Just a little.
“That’s… direct,” she said.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Unplanned.
“How much time?” she asked.
“Not long,” Rehman said.
She nodded slowly.
“…Okay.”
—
That was enough.
Outside—
“You knew,” she said to Hamza.
“…Yeah.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I needed you to see it yourself.”
She frowned slightly.
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” he agreed.
“It’s not.”
“You’re okay with this?” she asked.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then— “…It makes sense.”
Not yes.
Not no.
Just logic.
She noticed.
But didn’t push.
—
A few steps away—
Uzair stood.
Watching her
Not hiding it anymore.
Then he walked closer
“I meant what I said,” he told her.
“No pressure.”
“…But I’m not neutral about this.”
She smiled slightly.
“I can tell.”
—
“And if you say yes—”
He paused.
Then—
“I’ll make sure you feel like you belong here. i will treat you like a queen..my queen”
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No calculation.
Just certainty.
Laiba looked at him—
longer this time.
—
“…We’ll see,” she said softly.
But her tone wasn’t distant.
It was open.
Inside—
Rehman stood still.
“It will work,” he said.
Ulfat nodded "she is prefect for him"
Because both men had already chosen—
Just for different reasons.
—
And outside—
Uzair didn’t step back, If anything—
he stood a little closer than before
a little too close.
And Hamza—
watched everything carefully.
next part
taglist- @lavenderwinkle @theuselessdaydreamingidiot @youngweaponshrine @gulaabjamun08 @athena-roy
Ishq in the Spotlight
{Ranveer singh x oc}
Chapter 9: “Spilling Tea on Koffee” ☕✨ masterlist
The shoot was over which meant—
Promotion era.
Which meant—
outfits, interviews, fake laughs… and one very dangerous stop:
Koffee with Karan
—
Shanaya paced in the vanity room.
“This is a BAD idea.”
Ranveer, lounging like this was a vacation: “It’s a talk show.”
“It’s not a talk show,” she snapped. “It’s a trap.”
He grinned. “Relax.”
“He knows things.”
“So do we.”
“That’s not comforting!”
—
“Five minutes!” someone called.
Shanaya turned to him. “Don’t say anything stupid.”
Ranveer raised a hand. “I promise.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not convincing.”
“It’s convincing to me.”
“That’s the problem.”
—
Lights.
Camera.
Iconic couch.
And then—
Karan Johar entered like a man who had already won.
“Well WELL,” he smirked. “My favorite off-screen love story— I mean, co-stars.”
The audience SCREAMED.
Shanaya immediately covered her face. “We just started??”
Ranveer leaned back, enjoying this way too much. “Strong opening.”
—
“So,” Karan began, crossing his legs dramatically, “let’s talk about this insane chemistry everyone is obsessed with.”
Shanaya smiled politely. “It’s the script.”
“Of course,” Karan nodded. “Blame the script.”
Ranveer chuckled.
“And the snow helped,” Shanaya added quickly.
“Oh yes,” Karan said. “Snow, chiffon sarees… and lingering eye contact.”
The audience: OOOOOOH
Shanaya covered her face. “Oh my god.”
Ranveer laughed. “He’s not wrong.”
She turned to him. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m helping myself.”
“Tell me,” Karan leaned forward, eyes sharp, “was it instant… or did it build?”
Shanaya: “It was professional.”
Ranveer (at the same time): “It built.”
She slowly turned to him.
“…What?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You were supposed to say professional.”
“I said built professionally.”
“You did NOT say that.”
“I implied it.”
“You implied NOTHING.”
Karan clapped. “OH this is delicious.”
—
“Okay rapid fire!” Karan announced.
Shanaya groaned. “No, I reject this.”
“Rejected,” Karan smiled. “Accepted anyway.”
—
“Ranveer—one word for Shanaya.”
He didn’t even blink.
“Addictive.”
The audience: OOOOOOHHHH
Shanaya choked. “EXCUSE ME??”
Karan leaned in like a detective. “Explain.”
Ranveer smirked. “You don’t realize it at first… then suddenly you’re not functioning normally.”
The audience SCREAMED.
Shanaya hit him. “You’re DONE.”
“Worth it.”
—
“Shanaya—your turn,” Karan said, barely containing his grin.
She took a breath.
“…Problematic.”
Ranveer gasped. “Rude.”
“Accurate,” she said.
“Explain.”
“He talks too much, flirts too much, and—” she paused, then muttered, “—doesn’t know when to stop.”
Karan: “But you like it?”
Silence.
Audience: OOOOOOH
Shanaya: “NEXT QUESTION.”
Karan leaned forward like a villain in a climax scene.
“Who fell first?”
“NO—” Shanaya panicked.
Ranveer leaned back, thinking.
“…I did.”
DEAD. SILENCE.
Then—
absolute CHAOS.
Shanaya’s soul left her body. “RANVEER???”
“What?” he said, way too calm.
“You were NOT supposed to—”
“I answered honestly.”
“WE HAD A PLAN.”
“I forgot the plan.”
“YOU INVENTED THE PLAN.”
Karan stood up. “THIS is why I host this show.”
—
“Okay okay,” Karan sat back down, barely controlling himself. “Let’s be clear—are you two dating?”
“NO,” Shanaya said immediately.
Ranveer at the same time: “…Define dating.”
The audience EXPLODED.
Shanaya turned to him slowly wide eyed but with a hint of blush
“You are unbelievable.”
“I’m being precise.”
“You’re being a problem.”
“You called me problematic earlier.”
“Because you ARE.”
—
Karan leaned in like a shark.
“So you’re not dating… but you fell first… and you’re addicted to each other?”
Ranveer nodded thoughtfully. “When you say it like that, it sounds convincing.”
“IT IS CONVINCING,” Karan said.
Shanaya buried her face in her hands. “I want to disappear.”
“Too late,” Ranveer said. “We’re trending.”
“Final question,” Karan said dramatically.
“Finish this sentence: ‘We are…’”
Shanaya: “Co-stars.”
Ranveer: “…Not just co-stars.”
Silence. Then—
absolute madness.
The audience SCREAMED.
Karan clutched his heart. “I’m done. I’ve peaked as a host.”
—
Shanaya looked at him.
Half shocked.
Half something else.
“…You really don’t care, do you?” she whispered.
He leaned slightly closer.
“…I care,” he said softly. “Just not about hiding it.”
Her expression softened.
Just a little.
“CUT!” Karan yelled dramatically. “Someone give me water, this was better than my last three seasons.”
—
Backstage—
“YOU RUINED EVERYTHING,” Shanaya whisper-yelled.
“I improved everything,” Ranveer argued.
“You basically confirmed it!”
“I said not just co-stars. That’s poetic.”
“That’s suspicious!”
“That’s romantic.”
“That’s a problem!”
He stepped closer.
Lowered his voice.
“…You didn’t hate it.”
She froze.
“…That’s not the point.”
“It is a little bit.”
“…Maybe a little bit,” she admitted.
He smiled.
Knew it.
—
“Careful,” she said, trying to regain control. “Next interview, you’re not speaking.”
“Impossible.”
“I’ll mute you.”
“I’ll still communicate.”
“How??”
He leaned in slightly.
“…Like this.”
She blinked. Heart skipping.
“Stop.”
“No.”
“Ranveer—”
“You like it.”
“…Shut up.”
—
From across the hallway—
Karan watched, sipping coffee.
Grinning.
“Season highlight,” he muttered.
And somewhere online—
clips were already going viral,Captions exploding.
Fans losing their minds.
But them?
Still standing too close.
Still smiling like idiots.
Still pretending they didn’t just accidentally confirm everything.
Chaotic
Messy
Completely out of control.
And neither of them—
wanted to fix it. 😏✨
netflix : “Caught in 4K and still denying it? Cute😌"
tagged- @ ranveersingh @ shanayaa @ kjo
Comments💬:
kjo: “My couch has a 100% truth success rate.” ☕
fanpage01: HELLO?? HAND HOLDING ON NATIONAL TV?? 😭🔥
editqueen: zoom in guys… THIS IS LOVE
bbygirl: The way shanaya was blushing and panicking while ranveer outed their relationship
drama_addict: Karan didn’t even need to ask questions 😭 Ranveer was on the truth serum 😭
couplegoals: they forgot the cameras existed and I love that
viralclips: “just co-stars” WHERE?? 🤡
hopelessromantic: this is straight out of a movie scene omg
chaoticenergy: they went for promotion and came back with a relationship 😭
next part
taglist- @mylifesalreadyfucked @bittermiseryy @manjari08 @roses-and-iron
Ishq in the Spotlight
{Ranveer singh x oc}
Chapter 8: 'No Retakes Allowed' masterlist
For next two days—they were so good.
Not pretending.
Not careful
Just… really good
Laughing between takes, Sharing coffee without asking. Standing a little too close and not moving away.The kind of easy that feels dangerous—because it means something.
The crew noticed, Even Karan Johar relaxed for once.
“My film finally has emotional continuity,” he announced
Shanaya rolled her eyes.“We’re not your storyline.”
“You are my best storyline,” he corrected
Then he interfered.“Rehearsal. Alone. Now.”
Shanaya frowned “Why does that sound like a trap?”
“It is a trap,” Ranveer muttered.
Karan smiled “You’re welcome”
—The rehearsal room was too quiet
No crew, No noise.
Just them
And everything they hadn’t said out loud yet.
“Let’s just finish this,” Shanaya said, picking up the script.
“Yeah,” Ranveer nodded but neither of them moved immediately.
—
“Scene 48,” Karan’s voice echoed later on set.
“Breakup. Quiet. Real. Don’t act.”
The words landed heavier than usual.
Because now—
they knew what “real” meant
—
“Action.”
“You knew this wouldn’t work.”Ranveer said the line
But his voice carried something else.
Doubt
Fear.
Shanaya felt it instantly.“I didn’t think you’d give up this easily.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m being realistic."
That word again.
Realistic
Like earlier
Like the headline,Like everything he hadn’t said properly.
“You’re scared,” she said
Not in the script, but she didn’t take it back.
“…Maybe I am.”
Not in the script either
And now—no one was acting
—
“You don’t get to decide this alone,” she said, voice shaking.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is if you stop running.”
“I’m not running—”
“You are,” she snapped.
And this time—it wasn’t the character.
—
“CUT—”
“No,” Karan said immediately, quieter now. “Keep rolling.”
—
“Why does everything have to be complicated for you?” she said, stepping closer
“Because it is complicated!” he shot back
“Only because you keep making it that way!”
Silence cracked between them.
Too real.
—
“Maybe I’m trying to protect you,” he said
Her expression broke “From what?” she whispered.
“From you?”
That hit harder than anything.
—
“From this turning into something messy,” he said
“It already is!” she cried “And I still chose it!”
Her eyes filled
Her voice shook “But you keep acting like it’s something to fix instead of something to feel.”
That—that broke him.
Because she was right
And he hated how right she was
—
“CUT!” This time—Karan didn’t stop it
Because it had already gone too far
—
Shanaya walked away.
Not fast just… done.
Ranveer didn’t follow immediately
For the first time—he didn’t know how to.
—
They ended up in different corners of the set.
Same space but completely separate
Shanaya sat alone near the vanity vans, wiping her face, trying to steady her breathing.
Why does he keep pulling back?
Why am I the only one saying it out loud?
It hurt more—because she knew he felt it too.
Across the set—
Ranveer stood still, staring at nothing.
Her words replaying.
"I still chose it."
"I care about you..Stop running"
He exhaled slowly.
Because the truth was—he wasn’t scared of the world
He was scared of losing this.
And somehow—in trying to protect it—he was breaking it.
—
He moved
Finally
She heard footsteps.
Didn’t look up
“Shanaya…”
Silence
“I messed that up.”
She let out a soft, tired laugh.“Which part?”
“Everything.”
Then she looked at him.
Eyes still red,
“Why do you keep doing this?” she asked quietly
He didn’t deflect this time
Didn’t joke
Didn’t hide.
“Because I don’t know how to have something real without overthinking how it could go wrong,” he admitted
Her expression softened...Just a little.
“And you?” he asked
“Why do you keep staying?”
She didn’t hesitate “Because it feels right.”
Simple
Uncomplicated
Honest
—
Silence
But this time—it wasn’t heavy
It was… clear.
“I don’t want to lose this,” he said.
“Then don’t treat it like something temporary,” she replied
“I’m trying.”
“Then stop trying to control it.”
A beat
“Just… feel it.”
—
He stepped closer
Slowly
Carefully
Not because he was unsure—but because this mattered.
—
“I feel it,” he said
No hesitation this time.
No fear in his voice
Just truth.
Her breath caught.“…Say it properly.”
He smiled faintly "i am an idiot”
“You are”
—Another step closer
Now barely any distance
“I love you,” he said.
“And I’m done pretending that I don’t.”
Her eyes filled again—but softer this time.
Warmer
“I was never pretending,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said “And I’m catching up.”
—That made her laugh.
Small but relieved
Real.
—
“Come here,” he said quietly.
And this time—she didn’t hesitate
She stepped into him.
And the hug—wasn’t about comfort.
It was about Choosing to stay.
To not run
To not overthink.
—
Behind them—
Karan whispered, “If anyone interrupts this, you’re fired.”
The crew stayed frozen
They pulled back slowly
Still close.
Still there.
—
“Are we done fighting?” she asked
“For suree” he said
“Good.”
“Because I’m tired.”She smiled.
“Same.”
—
Later that night—
At the Rooftop,
City lights stretching endlessly below.No crew,No cameras , No expectations—
“I think we needed that,” Shanaya said.
“Yeah,” Ranveer nodded.
“Even if it nearly destroyed me.”
“Drama king.”
“Accurate.”
—A pause
Then—their hands found each other
Not by accident
Not unsure
Intentional
"Ab mai tera boyfriend..thik hai?"
"Thik hai"
Then- they kissed.
No big moment
No dramatic music
But it was perfect
just two people,who almost let fear ruin something real.
choosing— to stay anyway.
And this time— it didn’t feel fragile.
It felt stronger.
Because they had almost lost it
And still came back.
Ranveersingh [pvt story]: “warning: co-star turned problem real quick”
next part
taglist- @mylifesalreadyfucked @bittermiseryy @manjari08 @roses-and-iron
Ishq in the Spotlight
{Ranveer singh x oc}
Chapter 7 - "Confession" Masterlist
The flight back felt… different.
Not in a loud, obvious way.Just quieter.
Shanaya sat by the window again, headphones in but no music playing—watching the clouds like they might explain something she hadn’t fully understood yet.
Ranveer sat beside her.
Phone in hand.
Scrolling.
Then—
His jaw tightened.
Another headline.
Another comment.
Another opinion from people who had never met them but somehow knew everything.
“Fans Divided Over On-Screen Pairing”
“Age Gap Debate Heats Up”
“Chemistry or PR Move?”
He exhaled sharply.
Locked his phone.
But it didn’t help.
Because now the words were louder in his head.
"He’s too old for her and this feels forced.”
“She deserves someone her age, not a 36 year old senior actor. She's just 24.”
"Hey” Shanaya’s voice broke through
He looked at her
“You okay?” she asked.
"Yeah,” he said automatically.
Too quickly
She noticed but didn’t push.
“Landing soon,” she said softly
He nodded but his mind was somewhere else.
_
Back on set—The noise returned.
Familiar
Busy
Ranveer stepped out, slipping into his usual energy—but something was… off
Subtle, barely visible but there.
And Shanaya felt it immediately.
She started walking toward him—
“Shanaya!”She turned
Siddhant jogged over, grinning.
“Finally back. Survived the mountains?”
“Barely,” she laughed.
“Aww, I saw the BTS—legendary fall, by the way.”
“Oh my god, don’t remind me.”
“Too late,” he teased. “It’s iconic now.”
She laughed again.
Easy
Unfiltered.
And for a second—She forgot to look for Ranveer.
_
Ranveer saw it,
From a distance.
The way she laughed, the way she leaned slightly toward Siddhant as he said something else.
The way she looked… comfortable.
Familiar.
His grip on the script tightened slightly
It shouldn’t matter.
It didn’t matter.
So why did it feel like it did?
_
The difference didn’t go unnoticed.
Not by the crew
Not by the assistants whispering near the monitor.
“Something’s off.”
“Yeah he’s quiet...quiet unusual of him.”
Even Karan Johar raised an eyebrow, watching the shift like a director spotting a crack in a perfect scene, interesting.
_
"Ranveer?”Shanaya stood in front of him now
He blinked “Hmm?”
“You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?”
“I did.”
“You didn’t.”
“well, you talk way too much now shanaya..its exhausting.”He snapped
Her smile faded completely.
_
"Action”
They stepped into position.
Close, except—
It didn’t feel like before.
His hand at her waist—hesitant.
Her gaze searching his—confused and hurt.
The timing was there
The emotion wasn’t.
“Cut" Kjo yelled.
A beat.
“Again"
_
Second take was worse.
Third take—
Shanaya missed her mark.
“Sorry”
“Break,” Karan Johar said calmly
But his eyes were sharp.
Observing everything.
—
Shanaya walked off.
Fast.
Ranveer followed,
“Shanaya—”She turned.
“What is going on?”
“Nothing..im sorr-”
“Stop saying that,” she snapped “You’ve been off since we got back.”
“I’m fine”
“No, you’re not,” she said, stepping closer. “You won’t look at me, you won’t talk properly—you said i am exhausting "
Then quieter "Did I..do something?”
That hit hard.
“No,” he said immediately.
“Then what?”
Silence.
He looked away
And that—That broke her
.“…Okay,” she whispered. “So something did change.”
“It’s not you”
“Then say what it is!”Her voice cracked
And now people were definitely watching.
Whispers starting, Crew pretending not to stare.
Ranveer exhaled sharply
“People are talking.”
She frowned “People always talk”
“Not like this.” He looked at her now.
Finally.
“About us. About how it looks.”
Her expression shifted
"…The age thing?”
He didn’t answer , Didn’t need to.
_
You’re serious?” she said quietly
“I wasn’t trying to see it—it’s everywhere”
“And?” she asked, hurt rising fast “Since when do you care?”
“I don’t—”
“You do,” she cut him off “Or you wouldn’t be acting like this.”
He ran a hand through his hair.
Frustrated
Conflicted
“Maybe they’re right,” he said
And the second the words left—He knew.
Wrong move..
Silence
Sharp.
Shanaya stared at him like something inside her had just… cracked “…What?”
“I just mean—”
“You think this is wrong?” her voice shook. “You think we are wrong?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You just did.”
“I said maybe it looks—”
“I DON’T CARE HOW IT LOOKS!” she snapped, tears spilling now. “I care about what it is"
The words hit harder than anything else.
Because they were real,
Raw.
_
" I like you,” she said.
No hesitation this time
No backing out.
“I don’t care about headlines or comments or anything. I just—” her voice broke, “—I care about you."
Everyone there pretending not to listen… and failing.
Ranveer looked at her.
Really looked.
At the tears, at the honesty.
At the girl who didn’t hide
And suddenly—All the noise in his head felt… small.
He stepped closer
Closed the distance.
“You think I don’t feel it?” he said quietly.
Her breath caught
“Then stop acting like you don’t,” she whispered
That was it.
That was the moment.
Where he stopped thinking.
Stopped calculating.
Stopped listening to everything else.And just—Chose.“I like you too meri cutie pie.”
_
She blinked.
Like she needed a second to process it.
Then—Relief hit her all at once.
And she laughed
Half crying, half smiling.“You’re so annoying, so cringe” she said.
“You started it.”
“I literally confessed!”
“And I responded!”
“After emotional damage!”
“Worth it.”She hit his arms.
He said sorry a hundred times for making her cry.
_
Behind them—Karan clapped loudly.
“BRILLIANT! Raw! Emotional! Slightly chaotic!....I LOVE IT!”
The crew burst into laughter.
Someone yelled, “Finally!”
Another: “About time!”
Shanaya immediately hid her face.“Oh my god they heard EVERYTHING.”
Ranveer winced.
“We’re never living this down.”
Karan walked over, smug.“
Well,” he said, “since we’ve crossed professional boundaries so beautifully…”
“Karan—” Ranveer warned.
“I expect DOUBLE the chemistry in the next take.”
Shanaya groaned. “I’m quitting again.”
“Denied,”
Karan smiled. “Now go—channel all this drama into the scene."
He turned to the crew.
“Ready camera! We’re shooting real love now!"
More laughter.
—
Shanaya looked at Ranveer.
Still embarrassed.
Still flushed.
“…This is so bad.”
He smiled “Yeah,”he said.
Then softer—
“But also… kinda perfect.”
She rolled her eyes
But didn’t disagree.
_
"Positions!” They walked back to set.
This time—
Closer.
Easier.
Real.
And just before stepping into frame-
Her hand slipped into his.
Quick
Natural
Like it belonged there.
He glanced down.
Then at her
Smiled, mesmerized.
And didn’t let go.
—
“Action.”
And this time—
No acting was required.
Finallyyy <3
Next part
@mylifesalreadyfucked @bittermiseryy if someone wanna be tagged please tell me.
Between Borders and Lies
Chapter 9.1 - "Trust secured" masterlist
The air inside Rehman’s study was heavier than normal.
Not grief-heavy anymore.
Something else.
Decided.
Hamza stood near the table, calm—but not relaxed.
“You’re sure?” Rehman asked.
Hamza didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
A long pause followed.
Uzair stood slightly behind, watching both of them. Not interrupting.
Not pushing.
Just observing.
Rehman leaned back slowly.
“This won’t stay quiet,” he said.
“It already isn’t,” Hamza replied.
Another pause.
Then Rehman exhaled.
“Then it’s done. we will get our revenge for my son my naeem.”
No celebration followed.
No relief.
Just a shift in silence.
And somewhere in that silence—
three names stopped moving in the city by them.
Not announced.
Not explained.
Just… removed from the board.
And in Lyari, that kind of removal always came with meaning.
Rehman has personally killed his biological father mercilessly. No one interrupted.
No one dared.
Because this wasn’t a conversation anymore.
It was a conclusion.
Rehman straightened.
And when he spoke again, his voice carried across the entire room—steady, cold, absolute.
“This ends here.”
Then, louder—so everyone heard it clearly—
“Let this be understood by everyone present.”
His gaze moved across the room slowly.
Hamza.
Uzair.
Donga.
Everyone.
“Anyone who thinks they can cross my house, my people, or my decisions…”
“…will not get a second chance to explain it.”
The weight of that sentence settled instantly.
No explanation followed.
No further words were needed.
Because everyone understood what had just happened—
not in detail, but in meaning.
_
At the university, The corridors were louder than usual—girls gathered in small clusters, phones in hand, replaying news clips.
Something had shifted in the city.
Something big.
But she didn’t have the full picture yet.
Only fragments.
Names. Rumors. Silence in places where there should’ve been noise.
She texted Hamza.
Laiba: Everything okay? No reply.
That alone made her pause longer than usual.
_
Election Week, The city transformed.
Posters. Convoys. Loudspeakers.
Jameel Jamali stood beside Rehman in every frame.
Politics was no longer background—it was the stage.
And Rehman’s side was winning. loudly.
Rehman called him later that day.
No long speech.
Just one line.
“You didn’t hesitate.”
Hamza replied, “I couldn’t.”
A pause.
Then Rehman said quietly—
“That’s exactly why I trust you.”
That wasn’t praise.
It was confirmation.
And it felt heavier than anything else.
_
The rally was massive. PPP has won or lets just say it rehman has won.
Flags. Crowds. Noise that shook the streets.
Laiba stood slightly apart from the main crowd with Mehnoor.
Mahira with her influencial family was somewhere ahead, already pulled into the center of it.
Then she saw them.
Rehman.
Uzair.
And Hamza. Together.
Not equals yet—but no longer separate either.
Hamza stood a step behind Rehman now.
Not invisible.
But aligned.
Laiba’s eyes lingered on him longer than she expected.
Mehnoor noticed.
“You know them na? hamza is your brother” she asked.
Laiba hesitated. “Mhm”
But her attention drifted again.
Not to the crowd. To the structure forming inside it.
Hamza met everyone ,especially paid attention to Yalina, jameel's daughter.
but he noticed uzairs eyes on laiba and laibas questioning gaze at them. He would tell her but jut not now. he could'nt.
_
Later that week, Hamza was called to Rehman’s residence again.
This time, the tone was different.
Calmer. Final in a different way.
Rehman stood holding something covered.
“You’ve earned more than I expected in a short time,” he said.
Hamza didn’t respond.
Rehman uncovered it.
A bike.
New. Heavy. Clean.
Not just symbolic.
Practical.
Powerful.
“For you,” Rehman said simply.
Then—“You don’t just work for me anymore.”
Hamza looked at it for a moment.
Then nodded once.
“I understand.”
Uzair, standing nearby, watched quietly.
No jealousy. No challenge.
Just acknowledgment.
Something had shifted again.
Later, outside, Uzair walked beside him.
“You move fast,” Uzair said.
Hamza glanced at him. “You don’t?”
A faint smirk.
Then Uzair said— “You’ve made yourself useful to him.”
“That wasn’t the plan.”
“It rarely is.”
Hamza looked at him properly this time.
And for the first time—
Uzair believed him.
That night, Laiba finally got a reply.
Hamza: Busy. Laiba: You always say that. Hamza: Because it always is.
She stared at it for a moment longer than usual.
Something about it didn’t feel like routine anymore.
It felt heavier.
Like everything around them was becoming something none of them could casually step out of. And somewhere in the city—
a new balance had formed.
One built on trust.
Power.
And consequences no one was calling by name yet.
next part
@lavenderwinkle @theuselessdaydreamingidiot @youngweaponshrine if someone wants to be in tag list please tell me
Between Borders and Lies
Chapter 8.2 “Bhabhi Confirmed?” masterlist
The atmosphere at factory was completely different now, louder and messier. Alive in a way that had nothing to do with silence or tension.
Hamza leaned against the table, watching Donga argue with someone over something completely irrelevant.
Uzair walked in—
and this time, Hamza didn’t just nod.
“Late,” he said.
Uzair glanced at him. “Busy.”
“University busy?” Donga cut in immediately.
A few whistles followed.
Hamza smirked slightly. “Careful, bhai. At this rate, you’ll start taking attendance there.”
Uzair ignored the tone—but not the meaning.
“Work is work.”
“Of course,” Hamza said lightly. “We all believe you.”
More laughter.
Donga, leaned forward slightly. “So when are we meeting bhabhi properly?”
That landed.
Uzair looked at him.
Hamza didn’t react immediately—
then shook his head with a faint smile.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
everyone grinned. “Are we?”
Donga added, “Arrey, we’ve seen enough. Bhai doesn’t go anywhere twice without reason.”
Hamza glanced at Uzair. “That’s true.”
Then, casually—
“Should I start calling you brother-in-law now?”
The room broke into laughter.
Uzair exhaled slowly, shaking his head slightly.
“You all talk too much.”
But he didn’t deny it.
That was enough for them.
“Oho,” Faisal ,the cute kiddo said, pointing. “Silence means confirmation.”
Hamza laughed under his breath. “That’s not how it works.”
“Works for us,” Donga replied.
The mood stayed light.
Easy and for the first time—
Hamza didn’t feel like an outsider in that space.
Not entirely.
_
Hamza’s new house wasn’t big, but it was clean.
Organized.
The kind of place that reflected him without trying.
Laiba stood near the small kitchen counter, adjusting the plates she had already arranged twice.
“You’re overdoing it,” Hamza said, leaning against the doorway.
“I’m not. Everyone is coming in a bit, it needs to be pretty.”
“You’ve moved that plate three times.”
She didn’t look at him. “Maybe it needed moving.”
He almost smiled. A knock interrupted them.
Hamza opened the door.
Uzair.
Behind him—Donga and gang with Faisal.
“Arrey, full gathering,” Donga said, stepping in like he already owned the place.
Uzair didn’t say anything immediately but his gaze had already found her.
Laiba.
Standing just a few steps away. Not in a formal setting, Not surrounded by noise.
Just… there.
Closer.
More real.
“Assalamualaikum,” she said softly.
“Waalaikumassalam,” he replied.
His voice quieter than usual
_
The space filled quickly, laughter came easier here.
Hamza leaned against the table, watching Donga argue with someone over something completely irrelevant.
Faisal adding fuel.
Hamza shutting them down—unsuccessfully.
“Laiba, tell us,” Donga said. “Does he act serious at home also?”
Hamza groaned. “Don’t answer that.”
She smiled faintly. “Depends.”
“On what?” Faisal asked.
“How annoying he is.”
Laughter.
Hamza shook his head. “This is why I didn’t want you all here.”
“Too late,” Uzair said quietly.
Hamza glanced at him—
then smirked slightly.
“Careful,” he said. “At this rate, you’ll be here more than me.”
Donga jumped in immediately. “Arrey, why not? Future ghar ka aadmi.”
More laughter.
_
Hamza had stepped out of the kitchen.
Which, in hindsight—was a mistake.
Laiba stood in the kitchen, trying to flip a roti without burning it.
It wasn’t going well.
“This is not happening,” she muttered.
“It’s happening,” a voice said from behind.
She turned.
Uzair.
Leaning casually against the doorframe like he belonged there.
She blinked. “You just walk into anywhere now?”
“Only when the door’s open.”
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“You were busy fighting that roti.”
She looked offended. “I’m not fighting it.”
The roti burned slightly.
He raised an eyebrow.
“…okay, maybe a little.”
Uzair stepped closer.
Not too close.
Just enough to reach past her and turn the flame lower.
“You’re going to burn the kitchen,” he said.
“I know how to cook.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Remember i cooked delicious meal for all of you. I just dont work well with roti. Rice is superior anywayss”
“It is'nt.”
She turned to glare at him—
and realized he was closer than she expected.
Again. Why was this happening so often?
“Move,” she said.
“You move.”
“I’m cooking.”
“You’re destroying.”
She tried not to smile.
Failed a little.
He picked up the spatula.
“Give me that.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He just… took it.
Effortlessly.
She stared at him. “That’s rude.”
“That’s necessary.”
Within seconds, he flipped the roti properly.
Of course he did.
She crossed her arms. “Wow.”
“I have skills.”
“I’m discovering that.”
A small silence.
Not awkward.
Just… there.
She leaned slightly against the counter.
“You cook too?”
“I manage.”
“That’s disappointing.”
He glanced at her. “Why?”
“I thought you were only good at… intimidating people.”
A faint pause. Then—
“I can do both.”
She huffed a quiet laugh.
He handed her the plate.
Their fingers brushed.
Just lightly.
But enough.
She pulled back a second too late.
He noticed. Of course he did.
“You’re doing that again,” he said.
“Doing what?”
“Not stepping away.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re very observant.”
“I have to be.”
A beat. Then—
“Especially around you.”
That… landed.
She looked away first. Again.
The front door opened.
Hamza walked in—
and just stared at them.
Uzair standing in the kitchen.
Holding a spatula.
Laiba standing way too close.
“…I leave for ten minutes,” Hamza said flatly.
Laiba immediately stepped back. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Uzair didn’t move.
“It looks like I saved your dinner,” he said calmly.
Hamza looked at the perfectly cooked roti.
Then at Laiba.
Then back at him.
“…I don’t like this,” he muttered.
From the couch, Faisal popped up out of nowhere—
“CHACHU IS COOKING FOR CHACHI???”
Laiba groaned. “Oh my God, not again.”
Faisal grinned like he’d just won something.
“I knew it.”
Hamza closed his eyes briefly.
“This was a mistake.”
After their huge dinner, Faisal dropped onto the couch beside Laiba.
“Chachi, khana bhout mast tha.” he said casually.
Laiba blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Practice,” he said again, completely serious.
She stared at him—
then let out a small laugh. “You’re all insane.”
“Only slightly,” Donga said.
Laiba shook her head, trying not to blush.
But she felt it—the shift.
The way the jokes weren’t entirely jokes anymore.
Across the room—Uzair watched.
Not interrupting.
Not correcting.
Just… letting it happen
Taking in everything—
the way she spoke, blushed. The way she moved comfortably despite the attention.
The way she didn’t shrink.
That stayed.
_
The Baloch house had finally quieted down.
Faisal had exhausted himself after talking non-stop and disappeared into his room, still muttering something about “chachi” under his breath.
Ulfat sat in the sitting area, a cup of tea in her hands, though it had already gone lukewarm.
Rehman joined her a moment later, slower, more thoughtful.
For a while, neither spoke. Then—
“He’s thirty now,” Ulfat said.
It didn’t sound random.
Rehman glanced at her. “You’ve been thinking about that again.”
“Shouldn’t I?” she replied. “It’s not a small thing.”
A pause.
“He’s never shown interest before,” she continued. “Not properly.”
Rehman leaned back slightly. “He’s had options.”
“He’s ignored them,” Ulfat corrected.
That was true.
Families had suggested. Names had come up.
Uzair had always remained… distant. Polite but unmoved.
Ulfat stirred her tea absentmindedly. “But today…”
She didn’t finish.
She didn’t need to.
Rehman understood.
“The way he looks at her, its too intense.” Ulfat said quietly.
Rehman’s gaze shifted briefly, thinking back.
“I noticed.”
A small silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… aware.
“He doesn’t stay in places like that,” Ulfat added. “Not for long. Not without reason.”
Rehman nodded once. “And today he stayed.”
“And listened,” she said softly. “To her.”
That mattered more.
Uzair wasn’t someone who gave attention easily.
Not without purpose.
“And she…” Ulfat continued, a faint smile forming, “she didn’t try.”
Rehman glanced at her. “That’s what stood out to you?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “She didn’t act impressed. Didn’t push. Didn’t hold back either.”
A pause.
“She was just… herself.”
Rehman considered that because he had seen it too.
The ease. The lack of calculation—at least on the surface.
“And he noticed,” Ulfat added.
Rehman exhaled quietly. “He notices everything.”
“Not like this.”
That made him look at her again.
Ulfat’s smile softened slightly.
“You saw it,” she said. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
Rehman didn’t deny it this time.
Because he had.
The way Uzair watched her. constantly and consistently.
And more importantly—
personally.
“He didn’t correct Faisal,” Ulfat said next.
That detail stayed.
Rehman’s expression shifted slightly. “I noticed that too.”
A small silence followed.
Because that meant something.
Uzair didn’t let things slide without reason.
“And she didn’t pull away,” Ulfat added, almost thoughtfully.
Rehman looked at her. “You’re analyzing this too closely.”
“Of course I am,” she said lightly. “I’m like his mother.”
That ended that argument quickly. A faint smile passed between them.
Then Ulfat’s tone softened again.
“I like her,” she said. “She brings something lighter into the house,” she continued. “Even today… it felt different.”
Rehman leaned back, thinking.
“He was calmer,” he admitted. That was rare enough to matter.
Ulfat nodded. “Exactly.”
Then, quieter— “He needs that.”
Rehman didn’t disagree.
Because he knew— Uzair carried more than he showed.
Always had.
Another moment passed.
Then Ulfat said, almost casually—
“If things go in that direction… I wouldn’t be against it.”
Rehman didn’t react immediately.
He let the thought settle.
“She’s new,” he said finally.
“I know.”
“We don’t know everything about her and hamza.”
“I know that too.”
“But?” he prompted.
Ulfat met his gaze.
“Sometimes you don’t need to know everything,” she said. “You just need to see enough.”
A pause.
“And I’ve seen enough to know she’s not wrong for him.”
That was as close to approval as it got.
Rehman studied her for a moment longer.
Then nodded—just slightly.
“We’ll watch,” he said.
Not rejection. Not acceptance.
But consideration.
Ulfat smiled faintly, satisfied with that.
Because for now—
that was enough.
And somewhere between observation, instinct, and quiet hope—
the idea had already taken root.
Not spoken loudly. Not decided.
But present.
And growing.
Thank you for reading. next part