Twenty-one-year-old Noor ul ain has always been her family's light; bubbly, cheerful, and eager to please. But when a traumatic incident abruptly steals her spark, Noor's façade shatters. The only person who was there in the aftermath the night everything changed is her lifelong neighbor Zunair Yusuf. Broody and battling demons of his own, Zunair has always seen through Noor's relentless display of sunshine. When her laughter suddenly fades into silence, Zunair becomes oddly determined to find out what happened to her. As Noor spirals, she stumbles across a mysterious, forgotten journal tucked away in her attic, written by a woman whose harrowing story Noor feels eerily connected to. And as Zunair tries to uncover the truth, he finds himself growing close to both the faith he had detached from years prior, and the girl he thought he didn't care for. As buried truths are revealed, Noor and Zunair discover that some stories are meant to be heard, and that trauma ends where courage begins. #1 in islam: 4/7/25

Zobiya Hashmi never thought a rishta would change her life. She was the quiet one. The niqabi girl with the low bun and the burnt toast and the heart she kept behind seven walls. Muhammad Ali Shaikh was everything she wasn't - confident, easy, the kind of man rooms rearranged themselves around. He sat across from her at a family meeting and thought - This isn't a match. He was wrong. A story about two strangers who became each other's home. About the love that doesn't arrive like lightning - but like Fajr. Quietly. Certainly. Right on time. - What Allah Wrote For Us - By ~ Zobiya black🥀

⟢𝑬𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑨𝒇𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 3⟢ "In a world where I wasn't allowed to be seen, he was the only one who looked at me softly." I never understood why Professor Izmair Raiyesi noticed me at all. I wasn't special. I wasn't bold. I wasn't even free. I was simply trying to survive a marriage where silence was safer than speaking, where leaving home for my scholarship felt like the only breath I was allowed each day. But he saw me anyway-quietly, carefully, as if the act itself was dangerous. He never crossed a line, never let a single word slip beyond what was appropriate. Yet in every controlled glance, every measured moment, there was something I couldn't name... something he tried harder than anyone to hide. Because he doesn't belong to me. And I belong to someone else. But desire doesn't ask for permission. It simply fractures, softly, silently, in all the places we try to keep whole

"𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎, 𝓈𝒽𝑒'𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓉. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑒𝓇." They told me her name would bring influence. That her bloodline would open doors no campaign ever could. That marrying her would tie me to the minister whose word sways cabinets and commands kings. I was twenty-two, hungry and unshaken- A 𝒢𝒽𝒶𝒹𝓏𝒾 by name, born of legacy and cold-blooded business. So I agreed. To the alliance. To the girl. 𝒜𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓇𝒶 𝒮𝒾𝒹𝒹𝒾𝓆𝓊𝑒 𝒬𝓊𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾. She was fifteen when they marked her as mine. Eighteen when we signed the nikkah. I never saw her-only the tremble of pale fingers, and the quiet grace in her signature beside mine. And then I left. Now, at the brink of becoming the youngest Chief Minister this state has ever seen, they say it's time to complete the picture. Time for her rukhsati. Time to claim the girl I never forgot to remember. She's the granddaughter of a man who could make me king. And somehow, she's also the one thing in this game that feels... undeserved. And now she's waiting. And I don't know if I'm ready. Because what do men like me know of worthiness, when all we've ever known is conquest?

"I thought I told you to stop telling me what to do." I whispered meekly. "I thought I told you that I wanted you here, with me. I want your happiness. Not your anger." His lips touched my ear when he spoke; I was shaking. "You never said you wanted that." "But that is what I meant." "I don't live in your head, Adam. I can't just figure out what you want." "But you do." The hand that had been on the edge of the skin trailed up the side of my waist and then back down. "I can't fucking focus on anything else. Even now there's only thoughts of you in here. I'm wondering if you'd taste as sweet as you smell." /// When Shireen Naseer stumbles upon a sight not meant for her eyes, the young fashion designer is roped into a mess bigger than she's ever created. Suddenly, she's married to a brooding soldier and living in his home as she awaits the dangers of the outside world to pass. But Adam Zaman is not just an average soldier. He laughs at her stupid jokes, tries to keep her happy, listens when she rants, and is so very patient with her. She's falling hard and fast, but he will not step over the line. Protecting her and her honor is his responsibility, so how can he tarnish it? /// Bro, this belongs to me. Don't post it anywhere else.

Love had hurt Zarah once, and she swore she'd never let it happen again. But some hearts have a way of finding you, even when you're running. How do you choose peace when love knocks on your door?

This is a slowburn romance! There will be no hugging and cuddling by chapter twenty, so read at your own risk.. Madinah had gone her entire life lurking in other peoples shadows. What happens when the one person who had the power to bring her into the light wants nothing to do with her? Atleast not in the way she wanted everything to do with him. She was the light at the end of his dark dark tunnel, literally, figuratively. But when you're in darkness for long enough, you start to relish it, so much so that you find a home in it. He wanted nothing to do with her light, but just as the sun encompasses the night daily, Madinah may just encompass Adeels darkness.

Some people find true love easy, some people battle endlessly to find it, some give up, and some never do at all. Being Black and Nigerian in an Arab country wasn't so bad for Amal. But when one of the richest bachelor there sets his eyes on her.. she became a target From jealous women that wanted to take her place... to a protective father that wants someone else for his son... Would they fight for it... she is the black Rose in a desert

𝐙𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫 × 𝐃𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐯𝐢 | 𝟑𝟏 × 𝟐3 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬: #𝟏 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 She saw him more than once. And every time, her heart betrayed her; racing, stumbling, fluttering like a caged butterfly chasing a memory. Her breath shortened, her chest tightened, and still, she said nothing. Because it wasn't her place. Because she was never meant to be seen. Until she was. Until the day she stood before him, not as a stranger in the crowd, but as his bride. The wrong bride. He had seen her before. Once in passing, her eyes barely a flicker in his peripheral vision, dismissed for a prettier pair. The second time, he saw her through a vow sealed in blood and duty. And rage erupted. Exacting. Demanding. She wasn't supposed to wear that dress. She wasn't supposed to carry his name. But now that she does... There's no turning back.