Scooty Partner
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MaduroEm andamento1h 34min
Última atualização dom, set 13, 2026
POV: You join an internship for college credits and accidentally get a scooty-riding menace as your favourite person.
Navya Sahani and Orian Awasthi have exactly three things in common:
They work together. They annoy each other. And neither of them knows when their constant bickering stopped being just that.
She's a professional overthinker. He's emotionally clueless.
She's a hyena. He's somehow always there to give her a ride.
What could possibly go wrong? Probably everything.
Because somewhere between internship chaos, endless arguments, and unexpected rides home, they slowly become the person the other can't stop looking for.
Read Scooty Partner to find out where their journey takes them, and how much chaos they manage to create along the way.
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Aap aur main
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𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 and 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 || 𝟏𝟖+
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𝐌𝐞𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐛 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐦𝐫𝐚𝐚𝐳
ᴋᴀꜱʜɪꜱʜ ᴘᴀʀᴍᴀʀ. ᴛʜᴇ ǫᴜɪᴇᴛ ɢɪʀʟ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ʀᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ. ᴇʟᴇɢᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ... ɢᴜᴀʀᴅᴇᴅ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ... ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍꜱ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ. ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴍᴀʀ ᴇᴍᴘɪʀᴇ. ᴀ ᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ɢʀᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ʟᴜxᴜʀʏ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴀʀᴊᴜɴ ꜱᴜʀʏᴀᴠᴀɴꜱʜɪ ꜱᴇᴇꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ. ᴀ ꜰɪʀᴇ. ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ. ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ... ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʙᴏᴡꜱ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜɪᴍ. ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʟʟɪᴅᴇᴅ. ʏᴇᴛ ᴅᴇꜱᴛɪɴʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘᴀᴛʜꜱ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ, ᴋᴀꜱʜɪꜱʜ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴄʀʏ ᴏʀ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ. ꜱʜᴇ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟʏ ʟᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ... ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀʟᴋꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀᴇ. ᴀʀᴊᴜɴ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ. ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴇʀ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ. ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜʏ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴꜱɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ. ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟɪɢʜᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʙᴜɪʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴀɪꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴄʜᴀᴏꜱ
Arranged to feel
She stood before the altar, but she didn't look like a devotee. She looked like a soldier at the end of a long, losing war. She screwed her eyes shut, pressing the lids together so hard that her face strained. It was as if she was trying to squeeze out every memory of the last seven years. Her breath came in sharp, ragged hitches, and her fists were clenched so tight her nails bit into her palms. Then, the silence of the temple broke. She didn't whisper. She muttered the words loudly-a raw, jagged sound that vibrated with seven years of suppressed rage: "Ramudu kadhu... Krishnudu kadhu... Naku vairagyudu lanti Mogudu ni evvu!" The words weren't a prayer; they were a declaration of war. She wasn't asking for a blessing anymore-she was demanding a weapon. When she finally opened her eyes, the tears were gone, replaced by a cold, frightening clarity.
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