I asked the Moon... if he had ever seen someone like you. A Chhichhore fanfiction - Acid x Reader *We miss you Sushant Singh Rajput... may your soul rest in peace, wherever you are* Disclaimer: None of the members of the film Chhichhore are affiliated with this story. If someone who was actually involved in the making of this film has stumbled upon this (or god forbid one of the actors or Nitesh Tiwari), please leave lmaooo. I'm not responsible for any mental damage you incur after reading this 😭😭😭. Also: There will be some mature content in this story (I'm still not sure how intense it will be). Viewer discretion is advised, and I ask that anyone under 18 please use caution and correct judgement before reading.

Meenakshi strings flowers, yes, that's all she is, a flower girl. She is just a pair of hands in a palace that has never once looked down to see whose hands make the beauty it wears so carelessly. She has watched the one everyone fears in the whole Mahishmati, Bhallaladeva, the Yuvaraj, from behind a pillar for years. She has counted his heartbeats from across a court hall, and she has chosen night-blooming jasmine for his wedding garland because it blooms only in the dark, and she has never met anything lonelier. All she was supposed to do was hand the garland to the priest and disappear. Yes, that's all, but instead the crowd pushed the one wearing simple cotton clothes holding the garland as life, along with the priest who was blind and the stars which would not wait. And now she is locked in a ceremonial chamber until sunrise with a man the entire kingdom calls a monster, bound by sacred thread and the most beautiful garland she has ever made, the one she made for him, the one she poured her heart into without ever admitting why. Now he is furious, and she is terrified, and the night is long, very long. And somewhere between the silence and the wine and the jasmine blooming deeper in the dark, the monster starts to crack. Mature | Short Story | Valentine's Special

"You... you are... here." His voice came out as he whispered, surprising me. I tilted my head slightly and looked at him, responding to him. I licked my lips as I spoke back to him, "Sorry. I don't get what you are saying." I tried to keep it simple. But just as his soft fingers caressed my cheeks like a feather gracing over them, his cold fingers felt so good at the top of my heated cheeks that my body melted at his touch. "Ahh," I gasped at his sudden closeness and touch. I found myself leaning into it. He slowly leaned in, and his hot breath grazed the tops of my lips as I yearned for them to touch mine. Something then I didn't realise would cause the destruction I witnessed through the screen. ___________________________________________________________________ What happens when the villain's heart is filled with one face, the face that has guided him all his life, loved him, and been with him? Bhalla was many things, but he was a lover to his Nandhini, the sole thing holding up his humanity, his anchor from the world, which never supported him. But the only thing is that she is not from his reality or even real. She only visits him in his dreams, and in that dream, he lived, loved, and cherished; for him, that is his reality. Suddenly, he disappeared, leaving him in darkness as he had to fend off his nights with dreamless sleep. Only for her to appear in his reality without knowing him and their connection. Will the villain go to any extreme to get her back to him? To make her love him and see things from his perspective. She is his Niyati. Bhalladeva x OC

two spies. two lies. that were never supposed to entwine. an attraction that was never supposed to exist. the quiet lanes of lyari, home to both anayat and hamza - hides secrets they chase a common mission, unknowingly, in their own worlds, until they collided. pretending their hearts aren't involved. but somewhere between late nights, fake stories, guilty glances and unspoken care... the line between duty and love begins to blur. and in a world where trust can get you killed falling in love might be the most dangerous mission of all. hamza ali mazari x fem oc

𝘈 𝘋𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘩𝘢𝘳 𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 She woke up on cold concrete. No memories. No voice. No name. One moment, she was a nineteen-year-old girl in 2025 Tamil Nadu. Next, she was bleeding in a dark alley in 2005 Karachi, with no idea how she got there or who she even was. She must learn to survive in a world of violence, politics, and dangerous men. But something is wrong. Not just with her missing memories. Something deeper. Something darker. A feeling she can't shake. A dread that wakes her at night. Flashes of things that haven't happened yet. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵. And time is running out. The problem? She's voiceless, nameless, and trapped in a house full of secrets. And then there's Hamza. The man with dark eyes and darker secrets. The one who watches her like she matters. The one who whispers: "You rise from darkness. You bloom anyway." He speaks as if he loves her. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦. What she doesn't know: ↳ Hamza isn't who he claims to be ↳ His marriage is part of a dangerous game ↳ The lies he tells might be the only thing keeping her alive What he doesn't know: ↳ She's not from this time ↳ Her nightmares are warnings ↳ Some fires can't be controlled once lit In a world of spies and gangsters, where loyalties shift like sand, and love is just another weapon. She can't save everyone. But she can make them pay.

A desk-working R&AW agent is given her first field mission. Her job? Just to make sure Jaskirat Singh Rangi as Hamza Ali Mazari is able to lead Mission Dhurandhar successfully. But her plan of being in the shadows takes a turn when she meets Rehman Dakait's right hand cum cousin, Uzair Baloch.

Akshaye Khanna x Maya Malhotra (OC) A story about two actors brought back together by a film soaked in violence and loss-and by emotions they never fully buried. As cameras roll and characters grieve on screen, old wounds reopen behind the scenes. What begins with silence, unfinished anger, and aching familiarity slowly turns into something fragile, raw, and real. This is a tale of love finding its way back through grief, memory, and the spaces between "cut" and "action."