THE ACT🎬 pt. 4(FINAL)
Part 1, part 2, part 3
Pairing: Akshaye Khanna x Actor!Reader (Y/N Raina)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, none of the incidents and events described in the fiction is real. Also this contains teensy bit of Dhurandhar spoilers, so read at your own risk.
The final week of shooting for Akshaye's scenes arrived far quicker than anyone expected, maybe because the grueling hours over the past couple of months felt like its never gonna end, or maybe because for the first time in seventeen years, Y/N had found herself looking forward to showing up somewhere every morning, excited for the days work.
Whatever the reason, Dhurandhar was almost finished, the shoot for the post Rehman events were supposed to start next week.
Only a handful of scenes remained,
and one of them happened to be Rehman Dakait's death.
The set was chaos that morning, crew members moved equipment around, assistant directors shouted instructions, makeup artists ran around with powder puffs and fake blood.
Y/N wasn't shooting today, infact she has shot all her scenes already.
but as usual she was there anyway.
"moral support," she'd told everyone.
Nobody had believed her seven months ago, nobody believed her now.
Sara didn't even bother hiding her smile when Y/N arrived with her usual chai and settled beside the monitor.
Across the set, Akshaye was getting into costume or what was left of it.
His kurta was soaked with fake blood, dust streaked his face, there was a prosthetic wound attached near his ribs and neck.
The makeup team had done an annoyingly good job, he looked terrible.
Y/N hated it.
"Wow."
Ranveer appeared beside her, complete with his long haired Hamza wig and fake blood on his body.
"He looks very dead."
Y/N immediately smacked his arm.
"Ow!"
"Don't say that."
Ranveer stared.
Y/N stared back.
"You're proving our point."
"What point?"
Danish snorted into his coffee as Ranveer got called in for the scene.
Y/N rolled her eyes at Danish and returned her attention to the set.
Unfortunately, that only made things worse, because now she was looking at him again.
Akshaye.
Fifty years old.
Still somehow carrying the same face she'd fallen in love with at twenty, just more leaner, there were lines near his eyes,he complained more, rumbled more, had become increasingly dramatic about his back pain and home grown tomatoes.
But he was still him.
The same man who stole food from her plate.
The same man who forgot anniversaries but remembered tea orders by heart.
The same man who once drove three hours because she'd mentioned liking a particular pav bhaji from a roadside dhaba.
The same man she'd spent seventeen years trying not to miss.
A crew member called him into position, Akshaye moved toward the camera setup.
Y/N watched him go, like always.
The scene began.
Hamza carrying an almost dead Rehman from the auto rickshaw, to the hospital, yelling out,"DOCTORRRRRR!!!!"
The entire set was quiet.
Well not exactly quiet, the cameras were moving, the chaos of the scene was being filmed, the crew was still doing their job, while Aditya watched the monitors.
But Y/N couldn't hear any of it, because on that stretcher Akshaye wasn't moving.
And suddenly her chest hurt, her stomach dropped, her throat tightened.
She knew it was fake, yet her brain refused to listen.
All it saw was him lying there. Unbearably still. Covered in blood. Not moving. Not breathing. Gone.
A ridiculous thought entered her mind.
What if one day this was real?
What if one day she got a phone call?
What if one day she never got another stupid argument?
Another forehead kiss.
Another irritated eye roll.
Another chance.
What if—
No.
The thought alone made something crack.
Without warning, tears filled her eyes, her chest tightened up, a lump forming in her throat.
Y/N stood up immediately, nobody noticed her as she walked away hurriedly, past the cameras, past the crew, past the chaos and straight toward her vanity.
And the second the door shut behind her, she broke down into painful sobs.
A woman who had spent seventeen years pretending she'd moved on.
And had just discovered she hadn't.
Not even close.
----
That day, she left before anyone could notice her leave. Akshaye saw the empty chai cup at her usual corner but no her, he wanted to make a call, and he did, but the number was unreachable. He thought she might have just gone home, after all today's shoot was long and tiring ,But he'd surely ask her about it tomorrow when she visits the set.
The next morning tho, Y/N did not show up.
Nobody thought much of it, after all, she didn't have any scenes left.
Her work on the film was technically finished.
She'd stayed around far longer than she actually needed to anyway.
So when the first assistant director called for makeup and Y/N wasn't sitting in her usual chair with her usual cup of chai, nobody found it strange.
Well, almost nobody.
Akshaye noticed immediately.
Not because he was looking for her.
(Absolutely not, not like he was still in love with her or something.)
He simply happened to glance toward the monitor area and notice an empty chair.
That was all. A coincidence. A completely normal observation.
By lunchtime he had accidentally noticed the empty chair six more times.
(Not that he was counting.)
"Where's Y/N ma'am?" Sara asked Ranveer while drinking her strawberry foam matcha.
Ranveer shrugged.
"Probably sleeping in."
"Good for her."
"Very good for her."
That should have been the end of the conversation.
Instead, Akshaye looked up from his script.
"She isn't coming today?"
Ranveer slowly lowered his spoon.
Sara blinked.
Danish froze halfway through opening a packet of chips.
Because that was the first time all month Akshaye had directly asked about Y/N.
And apparently he hadn't realized it.
Akshaye frowned.
"What?"
"Nothing," Danish said immediately.
"Nothing," Sara agreed.
"Nothing at all," Ranveer added.
The three of them exchanged looks.
Akshaye narrowed his eyes.
Then decided he didn't want to know. Kids these days.
Which was smart, because he definitely didn't want to know.
---
Day two.
Still no Y/N.
This time he noticed before the breakfast was even served.
Not because he was looking.
The chair was just...empty.
That was all.
At eleven in the morning he casually asked one of the assistant directors if she'd come by earlier.
The assistant director said no.
Akshaye nodded.
Then spent the next twenty minutes rereading the same page of his script.
---
Day three.
Still nothing.
No chai.
No sunglasses.
No random interruptions.
No Y/N.
Ranveer found him staring toward the entrance between takes.
"You waiting for somebody?"
"No."
"Sure."
Akshaye gave him a look.
Ranveer wisely walked away before Akshaye could unleash his inner rehman dakait on him.
---
Day four.
The crew started discussing the wrap party for finishing the first film.
Everyone was excited, everyone except Akshaye.
Because halfway through the conversation he realized something.
If Y/N wasn't coming to set anymore...
she probably wasn't coming to the wrap party either.
The thought made him far more sadder than it should have.
----
Day five.
"Did anyone hear from Y/N ma'am?" Sara asked.
Danish shook his head.
"Nope."
"Maybe she's travelling?"
"Maybe."
Akshaye pretended to focus on his phone.
The screen had been blank for five minutes.
---
By day seven, he stopped pretending he wasn't worried.
Not to other people, to himself.
Because something felt wrong.
Y/N disappearing for a day?
Normal.
Two days?
Maybe.
An entire week?
No.
Not after months of showing up every single day.
Not after she'd practically adopted the set.
Not after him blasting atleast 30+ texts to her almost everyday.
Something was wrong.
He knew it.
The problem was he had absolutely no idea what.
And for the first time in years, that frightened him.
A little.
More than a little.
Far more than he wanted to admit.
---
The official wrap day for the first film arrived.
The final scene was shot and the crew cheered, people hugged each other.
Photos were being taken(maily sara taking sefies with everyone).
Somebody brought cake(Danish, he is the baker amonst them folks), Ranveer cried dramatically for attention, and through all of it, one person was missing.
Y/N.
Akshaye checked the entrance more times than he cared to admit.
She never appeared.
The wrap party started without her.
The speeches happened without her.
The final group photo happened without her.
And somehow that felt wrong.
Like someone had removed a piece from a puzzle.
Later that night, after everyone had gone home, Akshaye sat alone in his car for almost fifteen minutes, thinking.
Then finally muttered a curse under his breath.
Started the engine and decided he was going to her house.
Because if she wasn't coming to him he was going to her.
----
At 11pm, Y/N heard the knock and almost ignored it.
It was late enough that she was already halfway convinced it had to be someone from the complex with a neice who was fan and needs an autograph right now, or the neighbor downstairs the pent house, or one of the delivery boys who never read the instructions properly and dropped of 4B's parcel to her door.
She was barefoot, hair tied up badly, wearing soft hello kitty pjs.
She opened the door, and there he was.
Akshaye Khanna.
Standing outside her house likeit was normal to show up at your ex's house at almost midnight.
Y/N blinked once and then again.
Because for one impossible second her brain refused to process what it was seeing.
He looked tired, his hair was a little messier than usual, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his expression unreadable in the exact way it always had been when he did not want to admit he was annoyed.
“Are you going to let me in?” he asked.
That was not what she expected him to say.
So naturally she answered with the first thing that came to her mouth.
“Why are you here?”
Akshaye glanced at her once, then past her into the house.
“Can I come in or not?”
Y/N should have said no, she knew that.
It would have been smarter.
It would have been safer.
It would also have been a lie, because she had already stepped back and was holding the door open before she realized she was doing it.
Akshaye walked in, the space was too familiar and too strange all at once.
Y/N closed the door and turned around too quickly.
Akshaye was standing in the middle of her living room like he did not know what to do with his hands, which was ridiculous because she had seen him on enough sets to know he usually looked comfortable everywhere.
Not here, apparently.
Not now.
“Tea?” she asked, because she did not know what else to do.
“I’m fine.”
“That was not a yes.”
“It was a no.”
“Then say no like a normal person.”
Akshaye looked at her.
She looked back.
Neither of them moved.
Then he said, very quietly, “You disappeared.”
Y/N folded her arms immediately. “I went home.”
“You left without saying anything.”
“I didn't know i had to inform you before leaving, youre not my boss.”
“That is not the point.”
She gave him a flat look. “Then what is?”
Akshaye’s jaw shifted once.
She could see he had rehearsed this conversation in his head and was already annoyed that it was not going the way he wanted.
“You stopped coming.”
Y/N laughed, though there was no humor in it. “I have no scenes left.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
That was the problem with them. It always had been. They were too good at knowing what the other meant and too stubborn to say it plainly.
Y/N walked past him into the kitchen, partly because she needed space and partly because if she stayed in the same room much longer she might actually start shaking.
Akshaye followed.
He stood in the doorway while she put water on to boil.
“You were fine on set, then something happened. What?” he asked.
“Nothing happened.”
Akshaye looked offended. “You think I don’t know when something is wrong with you?”
Y/N stared at him for a beat, “Do you?”
He looked away growling.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Doing what?”
“Acting like you care.”
That was not fair.
She knew it the moment she said it.
But she was too angry to take it back.
Akshaye turned around fully now.
His voice was quieter when he answered, which somehow made it worse.
“I am not acting.”
That should have helped, but it did not.
Because now there was no easy way out of this.
Y/N turned away from him and reached for the mug on the counter, though her hands were shaking a little.
“If you’re here because of the film, I’m fine.”
“I’m not here because of the film.”
“Then why are you here?”
He took a breath.
Then another.
And finally said, “Because you’ve been avoiding everyone.”
Y/N closed her eyes for a moment.
There it was. The concern.
Which meant he had noticed, which meant he had been paying attention, which meant he had cared long before he should have admitted it.
And that was exactly the kind of thing she could not deal with tonight.
She turned back around, already irritated again because irritation was easier than other feelings.
“I am not avoiding anyone.”
“You literqlly vanished.”
“I was tired.”
“For a week?”
“I had a lot to think about.”
The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
“You did?”
Y/N wanted to kick herself.
“No.”
“Yes, you did. You just said so yourself!”
“No, I didn’t.”
He stepped closer. “Y/N.”
She hated when he said her name like that. Too steady. Too certain. Like he could pull the truth out of her if he said it softly enough.
“I said no.”
“Stop lying to my face."
She stared at him, he stared right back.
Neither of them blinked.
And then, because neither of them knew how to do this without turning it into a mess, Y/N snapped first.
“What do you want from me, Akshaye?”
He answered immediately.
The anger in his voice was sharper than she expected.
“I want to know the real reason of why you left the set that day.”
The room went silent.
That was not what she had expected him to say.
Y/N’s throat tightened.
Akshaye continued before she could recover.
“You looked terrified. I saw you leave, and then you disappeared.”
Y/N looked away so fast it almost hurt.
She should have been able to handle that question. she had handled harder things. She had handled interviews, rumors, silences, years of pretending not to care.
But not this.
Not him standing in her kitchen asking why she had looked like she had lost something she never got over.
“Because it was a bad scene,” she said too quickly.
Akshaye gave her a look.
Y/N rolled her eyes. “What?”
“That is the worst lie you’ve told me in the 27 years of me knowing you.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
He barked a short laugh at that, but there was no amusement in it.
“Oh, I’m being dramatic?”
“Yes, you are.”
He stepped closer again. She could practically feel the tension changing shape between them, getting tighter, more dangerous.
“Then tell me the truth.”
Y/N could not.
Not yet.
Not when every old thing she had buried was suddenly awake again.
Not when he was standing this close.
Not when his face looked exactly the way it used to look when he was trying to figure her out and failing.
So she did the only thing she had left.
She got angry.
“Why do you care so much?”
Akshaye went still.
Y/N knew the second it left her mouth that she had gone too far.
But he was already answering.
“Because I do.”
That was all. Simple. Flat. Honest.
Y/N stared at him, Akshaye stared back.
but neither of them moved.
And in that silence, she realized something awful.
He was not here to fight with her.
---
Y/N should have stopped there.
That was the sensible thing to do. Let him worry. Let him leave. Let this strange, dangerous conversation die in the kitchen.
But Akshaye was looking at her like he had decided to stay until she told him the truth, and that made her furious for reasons that had almost nothing to do with him and everything to do with the fact that he was right there, in her house, asking questions she had spent seventeen years avoiding.
“You can go now,” she said, too sharply.
Akshaye did not move.
“Not until you answer me.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
That did it. His expression changed, not angry exactly, but harder.
“No?” he said. “You disappeared for a week. You turned your phone off. You shut everybody out. Me out. And now you’re standing here telling me I don’t get to ask why?”
She turned away from him, because if she kept looking at him she was going to lose the tiny bit of control she still had.
“You’re always like this,” she muttered.
“Like what?”
“Like you can get answers just by demanding it. Like it matters."
Then Akshaye said, very quietly, “And what matters then if not this?”
Y/N looked at him then. Really looked.
And for one second she saw it, how tired he was, how careful he was trying not to be, how badly he was doing at pretending this was just an argument and not something much older.
That made her chest hurt.
So she did the stupidest possible thing.
She picked a fight to avoid the feelings rising in her chest.
“You want to know what the one thing that matters is?” she snapped. “Fine. The one thing that matters is that you keep showing up at my house like you have a right to know what I’m thinking.”
Akshaye’s jaw tightened.
“I do not think I have a right....”
“You are acting like it.”
“I came because I was worried about you.”
“Why?”
He stared at her.
That pause was enough.
Y/N gave a bitter little smile.
“Exactly.”
“It is not exactly.”
“What else is it then?”
Akshaye looked down for a moment, then back at her. He looked almost irritated now, but she could see the strain under it. The effort it was taking him not to say something too honest too fast.
“It is because you matter to me.”
That should have softened her.
Instead it made her angrier.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you do not get to say things like that and then react so normal like it doesn't change anything”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “React how?”
“Like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like you don’t know exactly what you are doing.”
Akshaye took one step closer.
Just one.
Enough to change the room.
Enough to make her forget what she was going to say next.
“Then tell me,” he said. “What am I doing?”
Y/N’s breath caught, oh how she hated him in that moment. She hated him for being calm, for being frustrating, for standing there like he was not shaking the same way she was.
“You know what you’re doing,” she said.
“No. I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
He shook his head once. “I am trying to understand why you left....”
The words hit too hard. Was he asking why she left the set? or him on that fateful night of December back in 2007? Y/N’s face changed before she could hide it.
Akshaye saw it.
And because he saw it, he knew he had found the center of it.
He softened a little then, which was somehow worse.
“You were terrified,” he said. “Why?”
Y/N swallowed.
Nothing.
She could say nothing.
She should say nothing.
Instead she heard herself say, “Because I thought you were dead.”
The room went still,like even the air had stopped moving.
Akshaye did not speak for a second.
Then, very quietly, “What?”
Y/N looked away immediately, because she had said too much and now there was no going back.
“I mean-”
“No,” he said. “No, do not do that.”
She frowned. “Do what?”
“Take it back.”
“I wasn’t-”
“You were.”
She crossed her arms, but her hands were trembling now.
“I thought it was real for a second,” she said, voice breaking around the edges. “That’s all.”
Akshaye stared at her.
Y/N’s throat tightened, and now that the first sentence was out, the rest came with it whether she wanted them to or not.
“I looked at you lying there and I just-” She stopped, pressed her lips together, then started again. “I thought if that had been real, if something had happened to you, I would have-”
She stopped again.
Her eyes burned.
Akshaye’s voice changed completely when he asked, “Would have what?”
Y/N laughed once, but it sounded broken.
“I would have lost it.”
He was looking at her with a kind of carefulness that made her want to turn away and also made it impossible to move.
And because she had already opened the door, she might as well walk through it now.
“I still love you,” she said quietly.
Akshaye did not answer.
Which scared her more than if he had.
Y/N blinked fast, suddenly panicking again. “I did not mean to say that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I mean, I did, but not like-”
“Y/N.”
She stopped.
He was staring at her like he was trying to keep his own body in place.
And then he said, “I still love you too, never stopped, couldn't stop”
Everything inside her seemed to go blank and full at the same time.
Y/N stared at him.
He looked almost angry now, but not at her. At time. At silence. At the years. At whatever ridiculous chain of events had made this the first time they were saying the truth out loud.
“I have spent seventeen years knowing exactly what I lost.”
That made her eyes fill.
He saw it and looked away for a second, then back.
“I just hid it better than you.”
She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, furious at herself for crying this much and furious at him for making it so easy now, when it was already too late.
He stepped closer.
This time she did not move away.
“Why did we do this?” she whispered.
Akshaye’s face changed in a way she had not seen in years,
“Because I was stupid,” he said.
Y/N laughed weakly. “That’s it?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Because I thought I had time. Because every time you asked me to be serious, I thought I was protecting us by waiting. And then waiting became the habit.”
Her face softened, just a little.
“What did you think I was asking for?”
He looked at her.
That was the wrong question.
Not because she was wrong but because he hated the answer.
“I thought you wanted me to choose marriage before I was ready,” he said quietly. “I thought if I said yes too soon, I would ruin us.”
Y/N went still.
Akshaye kept going because he clearly had no intention of letting the truth stop now.
“And you thought I was refusing to choose you.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
Because yes.
That was exactly what she had thought.
“You never said that,” she whispered.
“You never told me that was what you heard.”
Y/N let out a shaky breath.
That was the whole stupid thing, wasn’t it?
They had both been standing there all those years, loving each other, waiting for the other person to understand what they meant, and neither of them had.
Neither of them tried.
Seventeen years.
Lost to a sentence that had never been finished properly.
To a silence that had grown too long.
To pride.
To fear.
To love that had nowhere to go.
Y/N covered her face with one hand, then dropped it again almost immediately.
“We are ridiculous.”
Akshaye gave a tired laugh.
“Yes.”
“We wasted seventeen years.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him, tears still on her face.
“Over nothing.”
Akshaye’s expression softened, and this time there was no fight left in it.
“Not nothing,” he said. “Just badly handled.”
Y/N shook her head like she could not believe how stupid they had both been.
Then she broke into a proper cry again, and this time he pulled her into his arms without hesitation.
This time she let him.
Because there was no point pretending anymore.
Not now.
Not when they had already said it.
Not when they had already lost seventeen years to it.
---
For a long moment, neither of them said anything.
They just sat there in the middle of Y/N's kitchen floor, sobbing into each others arms.
Seventeen years. Seventeen years of missing each other. Seventeen years of wondering what went wrong. Seventeen years of loving each other.
Y/N's face was buried against his shoulder.
Akshaye's arms were wrapped around her.
Neither seemed particularly interested in moving.
Eventually, Y/N let out a watery laugh.
"We're idiots."
Akshaye hummed.
"Biggest idiots."
"Agreed."
She pulled back just enough to glare at him.
"You couldn't have just told me?"
"YOU couldn't have just told me?"
"I asked you!"
"You implied things."
"I was very clear."
"You absolutely were not."
Y/N smacked his arm.
Akshaye looked offended.
"See? Violence."
"You deserve it."
"Probably."
That only made her laugh harder.
The kind of laugh that comes after crying too much.
The kind that hurts a little.
For the first time all evening, the heaviness in the room eased.
Just slightly. Just enough.
Y/N looked up and immediately regretted it.
Because Akshaye was looking at her.
Not the way he'd looked at her on set.
Not the way he'd looked at her during arguments.
Not the way he'd looked at her across crowded rooms.
This was worse, much worse.
Because now there was nothing left to hide behind.
No scripts. No cameras. No directors yelling cut.
Just him.
Looking at her like she was still the same woman he'd fallen in love with all those years ago.(she literally was)
Her stomach flipped, which was ridiculous.
She was 47 years old, she had won awards, run businesses, produced films, faced journalists, faced trolls.
And somehow one look from Akshaye Khanna still turned her brain into mush.
It was deeply embarrassing.
His eyes flicked briefly to her lips, then back up.
Y/N's heart nearly stopped.
A slow smile appeared on his face.
"You're blushing."
"I am not."
"You are."
"I'm literally crying."
"You can do both."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
Unfortunately, he sounded very sure about that.
And unfortunately, he was right.
The realization must have shown on her face.
Because Akshaye's expression softened.
The smile disappeared. The teasing disappeared.
Everything disappeared, leaving only him.
Just him.
Slowly, carefully, he reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her tear striken face.
The gesture was so familiar it almost hurt.
Y/N's breath caught.
Then Akshaye leaned forward, giving her every chance to stop him, every chance to walk away.
but she didn't, instead she leaned forward, joining their lips.
The kiss was soft and gentle.
Almost hesitant.
Like neither of them quite trusted that this was real yet, like they were both afraid someone would yell cut.
Y/N felt her eyes sting again.
Because after seventeen years, after all the anger and hurt and silence, somehow this still felt like coming home.
When they finally pulled apart, neither got very far.
Foreheads touching, breathing uneven.
Still smiling like idiots.
Akshaye laughed first. Y/N laughed too.
"What's funny?"
"Us."
"Fair."
"We really lost seventeen years."
The smile faded slightly.
"Yeah."
Y/N looked down.
"We could've had seventeen more years."
Akshaye was quiet for a second, then he tilted her chin up gently.
"We can't change that."
She swallowed.
"I know."
"But."
The look on his face made her suspicious immediately.
"Why do I feel like you're about to say something insane?"
"Because I am....i don't want to waste any more time."
Y/N stared.
There was a very specific look in his eyes now.
One she recognized immediately.
One that had historically been followed by decisions nobody saw coming.
"Akshaye."
"I mean it."
"Akshaye."
"We already wasted seventeen years."
"Akshaye."
"I'd rather not waste seventeen more."
Y/N narrowed her eyes.
"That sounds suspiciously like a proposal."
"It is a proposal."
She froze.
He froze.
Then both of them looked mildly horrified.
Because apparently neither had expected him to get there quite so fast.
"Did you just propose to me in my kitchen?"
"Maybe."
"You don't even have a ring."
"I can get one."
"You don't even have a speech."
"I can make one."
"You are unbelievable."
"I'm serious."
Y/N stared at him.
Akshaye stared right back.
Completely serious yet riddiculous, and somehow she had never loved him more.
A laugh escaped her then suddenly she was crying again.
Which was becoming a pattern tonight.
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"You proposed."
"Yes."
"Like this."
"Yes."
Y/N covered her face.
Akshaye looked unfairly pleased with himself.
Finally she lowered her hands and looked at him.
The man she'd loved at twenty.
At thirty. At forty. And apparently still loved at forty seven.
Then she smiled.
"Yeah."
Akshaye blinked.
"...yeah?"
"Hell yeah, Mr. Khanna, I am marrying you."
For a second he simply stared.
Like he wasn't quite sure he'd heard correctly.
Then he kissed her again.
And this time neither of them hesitated.
---
A month later, on 18th December, 2025:
Taglist: @laal-pari @warnermeadowsgirl @scentedwolfdragon @miwagonemad @cloudmast @pleasetagmejaaneman @pn28 @desibaddies @harrystyleskiwi9 @withlovemii @avasif @anxiousbeeing @goodnightkatherine @istilldonotslay @gehra-hua @forbiddenfanaa @cloudmast @bobcuts-blog @niyadarealart @mylifesalreadyfucked @gulaabjamun08 @manjari08 @forbiddenfanaa @dollie1111xo5 @iamadelusionalwriter @goldenharrysworld @debsreads21 @theuselessdaydreamingidiot @writrsblu @chai-aur-chaand @indigo-pdf @mainyahaankyunhoon @precioussophia @rosiasthings @dhurandhar-archives @hamzair-is-my-otp @royaldreamermonsoon @between-smoke-and-roses @lavenderwinkle @sarcastic-ravenpuff @qalamband @rhymeskiii @granddynamonovajbvgjjj @sugarvibez @akshayes @rosesandpeoniesthings @bxtchyrose @alpineforeverr @iatedonuts @prettylady2006
