#𝟓 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 They said grief changes people. But I remember when I looked at him, he didn't look broken. He looked awakened. Like a man who had finally found a reason to breathe again. Unfortunately, that reason was me. There's nothing loud about him. Forget raising his voice he barely speaks unless he has to. He just watches quietly, like a wolf waiting for its prey to stop running. When a man like him decides you're his, he doesn't need to say a word. He didn't have to touch me to make me feel trapped. He just had to look. And maybe that's what chains really are...not metal or rope, but the slow suffocation of being seen, claimed, and never asked if you wanted to be free. If the girl I was four years ago had seen who I am today, she would have laughed at herself, completely unaware that one day she would herself say that: Arhaan Mirza is my fate, my curse, my damnation and the chains of desire my soul refuses to break free from. ~ Arhaan X Eyana

⚠️ warning ⚠️ ⋅˚18+˚ ⋅ Pur-sukoon is a dark romcom. If you are not comfortable with this theme, please do not read it, for your own sake as well as the writer's. And if you do choose to read it, kindly refrain from leaving disrespectful or hateful comments about the characters.

An aarange marriage story of abhimanyu and aaradhya.🧡 Yaduvanshi Haveli does not forgive mistakes. And tonight- Aaradhya forgot her veil. She steps out of their room in a soft cotton saree, hair loose down her back, sindoor bright in her maang, unaware that the air itself has shifted. Then- A voice behind her. Calm. Measured. Not loud. "Aaradhya." She freezes. Not because he shouted. Because he didn't. She turns slowly. Abhimanyusingh Yaduvanshi stands at the end of the corridor, hands clasped behind his back, eyes steady. The kind of steady that doesn't blink. His gaze does not move to her face first. It moves to her uncovered head. A pause. Then he walks toward her. Unhurried. Each step deliberate against marble floors. She instinctively lifts her pallu halfway, flustered. "Woh... main bas paani lene-" He stops in front of her. Close enough that she can smell sandalwood and authority. He gently takes the loose end of her saree from her trembling fingers. Not harsh. Not angry. Precise. He lifts it himself and places it over her head, adjusting it carefully until it shadows her forehead. His fingers linger for one second too long. Then he speaks softly. "Tumhe pata hai, is haveli mein ghunghat sirf kapda nahi hota." She swallows. "Ji..." He tilts his head slightly. "Yeh maryada hoti hai." His thumb lightly presses the edge of the veil near her temple. "Yeh izzat hoti hai." She lowers her eyes automatically. He leans closer. His voice drops, almost intimate. "Yahan ki auratein bina ijazat dhoop tak nahi dekhti... aur tum bina ghunghat dehleez paar kar gayi." It isn't a threat. It's information. She whispers, "Galti ho gayi..." "galti ki saza bhi milegi, Aaradhya" "is saza ke baad aap kabhi bhul ke bhi galti nahi kar payengi " Trope✨ arrange marriage arranged by him obsession addiction mature content

𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘕𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘪 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘩 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘡𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘩𝘢𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦? 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘕𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩? 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦?

محبت کے دھندلے رنگ A love bound by force, veiled in silence, where time and distance blur the lines of what was lost and what was never truly known.

𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒊𝒕? 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆...𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂. __________________________________________ |● 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐍𝐈×𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐌 In a world where power whispers louder than screams & silence kills, where the walls have the stories that are meant to be hidden, where some vows are made in blood. Some in shadows, he sat on the throne. The throne born of ruin. And she-unseen, unheard, unwanted-was the only one who ever looked him in the eye... and didn't look away. She didn't belong to him. But she wasn't hers anymore either. He wanted to drag her into his world, ruin her with his silence, mark her where no one else could see. And yet, he stood there-cold, controlled, burning. Because the ache wasn't the worst part. The fact that he liked it was. Two unseen souls. One forced bond. And a storm no one saw coming. #2nd book in "His Bride" Series. ●Started on 3rd October. ROY♡

🪷 Kya jaane tu, mere iraade Le jaunga, saasein chura ke.🪷 Their families have been enemies for generations, their names spoken with resentment on opposite sides of the village. Them falling in love shouldn't even be a possibility, but fate has funny ways of playing out. What's meant to be, will be.

"There was a story I once heard... that every soul has a butterfly tied to it. Mine was Sabreena. Her wings kept me alive. And the day her wings stop... so will I." ⍣✰⍣✰⍣✰⍣✰⍣✰⍣ Azlaan raised walls around Sabreena, shielding her from every shadow. For him, she was life itself - untouchable, sacred, forever his 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚂𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 He was her 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. Sabreena worshipped him, breathed him, loved him in ways he could never allow himself to. To her, he was not cousin, not guardian but the only man she ever wanted. Between his restraint and her hunger lies a war. How far will she go to make him hers? How long can he fight the darkness when she is both his weakness and his ruin? Behkaawa - a story of love so forbidden, it can only end in fire. ⍣✰⍣✰⍣✰⍣✰⍣✰⍣

This is a short village story from 1980's era.. # Top1 in India ( 06/01/2026) # Top2 in India (05/01/2026 ) 𝐓𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐝..𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨❤️ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒕 𝑿 𝑩𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒖 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒅 ✨✨ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 (𝟏𝟖+) When twenty-year-old Gauri, a naive and soft-spoken village girl, suddenly found herself tied in marriage to Madhav, a twenty-five-year-old shy and gentle man who spent most his days from morning to evening working in the fields, neither of them knew where or how to begin. They were two inexperienced souls, bound by a relationship they didn't fully understand. Gauri had never imagined what kind of husband she wanted, nor had she ever dreamed of love the way stories described it. And Madhav? He was far too absorbed in his farm and his duty toward his widowed mother to think about marriage or women. His life began and ended with the soil beneath his feet and the responsibilities on his shoulders. Two strangers, unaware of love's language, now share the same roof. But destiny had other plans because somewhere in Madhav's past still lived a woman. The woman who once dreamed of a future with him. And when fate decides to bring that past back into his present,will time heal what love could not or will the past come knocking on the door of their fragile new beginning?