"Pyaar se nahi, shraap se likhi gayi thi meri shaadi ki kismet..." She's the Sarpanch's loud, poetry-spouting daughter from a small Rajasthani village. He's the cold, brooding prince - a 34-year-old ruler known as Saheb, feared more than loved. And the palace they're forced to live in? Cursed. Legend says: "Jis mahal mein dulhan ki marzi ke bina shaadi hui... wahan suhaag nahi, sirf shraap bacha hai." No woman who married into Rajgarh Palace ever lived to tell the tale. Until Saanjh arrived. With her pink chappals, sass, and storm-level chaos. Now she's stuck with a royal husband who glares more than he speaks, a soul connection that dates back 200 years, and a curse that only she can break - but only if the wedding happens again... By love. Not force. By rebellion. Not silence. Get ready for: ✔️ Royal drama ✔️ Flashbacks to a tragic past ✔️ Slow-burn, fiery romance ✔️ Chaotic wife vs grumpy husband energy ✔️ Secrets. Sindoor. And a soul that refuses to burn quietly.

The portrait should have been nothing more than paint on fading canvas- Yet the moment the students stepped into the museum hall, the air shifted. It felt as if the walls remembered things -Prisha felt it first. Prisha Mehta-quiet, observant, orphaned-stood apart from her class, fingers grazing the railing as her eyes fixed on the newly unearthed painting. Princess Shivanya Maheshwari. The artist had painted her like a prayer. Long kohl-lined eyes. Dusky skin glowing beneath jewels. A soft mouth curved with grace. But beneath all the beauty, something felt terribly wrong. Prisha's heartbeat stilled. Because the princess didn't just resemble her. She looked exactly like her.The same eyes. The same bone structure. The same face. Her professor spoke somewhere behind her, recounting how Shivanya's kingdom fell to war centuries ago. How she died young, slain by the ruthless Prince Prithviraj Kshatriya-heir of the rival throne. That night, sleep refused to come. Something inside her whispered- Go back. She shouldn't have. She shouldn't have snuck past the locked museum doors, shouldn't have wandered alone through marble corridors lit only by thunder. But curiosity-dangerous, consuming-pulled her in. Thunder cracked above, rattling the walls.Prisha's breath hitched. And then-even before she could scream-the ground split open beneath her. The museum vanished. With a violent gasp, she clawed her way to the surface. Gone was the museum. Gone was the girl she had been. She staggered to her feet-drenched, trembling- maroon silk clinging to her body, gold heavy around her throat and wrists. She wasn't wearing her own clothes anymore.She was wearing the princess's. Prisha-no, Shivanya-stood in a storm-drenched forest. The only way back to her time was through the portrait. But to reach it...she would have to survive the kingdom that killed her once- -and the prince who was never meant to fall in love with her.

Younger ML × Older FL Arranged Marriage Soft love She never planned on marrying-especially not a boy younger than her. He never imagined his quiet life would be tied to a woman who carried storms in her eyes and softness in her heart. Bound by an arranged marriage neither expected, they step into a relationship without promises, without pressure... just gentle steps toward something new. He is patient, respectful, and quietly protective; she is mature, calm, and learning to trust love again. In a world full of loud romances, theirs grows slowly-through shared mornings, soft conversations, accidental touches, and the warm comfort of simply choosing each other every day. This is a story of age-gap tenderness, marriage turning into love, and two souls discovering that sometimes the softest love is the strongest of all. ---

"I suggest you sit down, Rajkumari..." the old spy whispered, barely above a breath as he collapsed before her. His cloak was soaked in blood-not his own-and his face was pale with terror she had only seen on the battlefield. Jhanvi's hand froze mid-motion as she reached for her goblet. It had only been four days. Four days since she was forced to return to Deshmukh and left her Ranjha alone. "What happened?" Her voice was quieter than she expected. The man looked up, shame clouding his eyes. "Forgive me, Rajkumari... I could not stop him. No one can." Jhanvi's brows furrowed. "Prithvi?" He nodded. "The King has executed seventeen prisoners in three days. No trials. No questions. Among them... a boy, fifteen, who tried to steal from the temple steps. An eighty-year-old woman accused of speaking ill of the crown. He didn't flinch." Jhanvi's breath caught. "That's not... him." The spy clenched his fists. "He doesn't sleep. He skips meals. The royal doctor says his body is tearing from the inside-he's injured himself thrice during combat drills. Blood everywhere. He won't stop." Jhanvi stood, heart pounding. "Why are the ministers allowing this?!" "Who dares to stand in his way?" the man cried. "When an ambassador from an allied kingdom said, 'Your Majesty is fortunate to have been loved by such a divine woman,' he exiled the entire delegation. Burned the alliance papers and cut ties with the most powerful kingdom." Jhanvi staggered back, hand to her chest. "He... ended a diplomatic tie over... me?" "He screamed," the man rasped, eyes wide with memory. "He threw his sword and shouted, 'If I'm so fortunate, where the hell is my raani?!'" Silence filled the chamber. The spy whispered, "He's not a king anymore, Rajkumari. He's a man burning alive from the absence of his queen." Jhanvi clutched the table, heart aching. "He'll destroy himself," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "But... what about my self-respect?"

Gayatri is the only virgin of the Tridhara Palace's Royal Vaishyalay. She is a dedicated devotee of the enigmatic god Nivarth, the god who has taken birth as the prince of Tridhara Palace. Gayatri's life takes a dramatic turn when she catches the god's attention. What happens when the very deity she worships begins to defile her? Destined for a purpose greater than she can comprehend, Gayatri may hold the key to salvaging Nivarth, the god of winter, from himself. Will the god's dangerous allure consume her, or will her love change the mischievous god's ways?

Taehyung, an ancient-era man, finds himself in a strange new world after a car accident, inhabiting the body of a modern husband with a cold, stoic military spouse, Jungkook, and a neglected young son, Taegguk. The original Taehyung was vain, distant, and resentful, leaving his family on the brink of collapse. Now, armed with a fresh perspective and a desire to make things right, Taehyung dives into his role as a devoted husband and father. Through cooking, care, and unwavering love, he melts Jungkook's icy exterior and wins over his adorable son, turning a broken household into a warm, loving home. But can his efforts heal old wounds and spark a romance that was never given a chance? A heartwarming tale of rebirth, family, and second chances at love.

⚠️Dark Theme ⚠️ Mafia au!! Just a story of revenge where the lines blur and Taehyung ends up falling for the ruthless Mafia of Italy. 🔞For 18+ only. Won #1st place in Watermelon waves contest. Topkook☝️ BottomTae👇 Reached #1 in taegguk #1 in vkook #1 in Jimin #1 in topkook #1in btsfanfic #1 in femboy #1 in angst #1 in Mafiajk #1 in bottomtae #1 in angstwithhappyendig #8 in fanfiction

Meet Aarav Singhania, the most famous bachelor of Royal Mumbai University. Charismatic and effortlessly stylish, he's the kind of guy who turns heads the moment he walks into a room. As much as he loves to lead his Cricket team, he also loves to be in spotlights all the time. He loves everyone but........her. Meet Aarohi Sharma, the rising singer. She is kind, hustler and heiress to a large empire. With a voice that blends soul, power, and raw emotion, Aarohi lives and breathes music, performing at campus events, exclusive lounges, and even charity galas. She loves everyone but........him.

For once Satan could have mercy but Zihan Agrawal could never .🔞 This is a dark romance book of mafia and his obsession with His Hibiscus. Welcome to my first work -- His Blue Hibiscus. Zihan Agrawal an Italian Mafia Boss who became religious after seeing her for only one time and for past two years , he is already in love with His Blue Hibiscus . Vaani Sehgal who is scared of love is forced by her father to marry a 55 year old man for money but somehow ends up in an arranged marriage with Zihan (arranged by him) . . ●●●●TRIGGER WARNING ●●●● This story contains sexual content and murder scenes violence and masacare traumatic lives of characters and obviously all sorts of abuse (physical mental and emotional) . It has curse words . If you are sensitive then please don't read it . If you still want to read it then make sure you are 18 or above if not then please wait just like you are waiting for your crush to like you back 😉 (But the wait to read my book will one day get over ) I don't own any rights over the pictures I've used. All of them are from pinterest . But the story is mine , so please don't copy it . I'm a complete beginner as this is my first time writing a book Please give me a chance and I promise you won't regret your choice just like you regret your choices in people..... ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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