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"She's just a rival, nothing else-and never will be," he shouted. Vihaan Chopra (16) is the class topper and the heartthrob of the school. Girls admire him, teachers praise him, but he keeps his head down-his eyes only on his dream of becoming a national-level basketball player. The only problem? His mother has other plans-she wants him to be a civil officer. Vihaan is focused, disciplined... and believes he despises her. "He thinks he's smart, but to me, he's just stupid," she rolled her eyes. Navya Malhotra (16) is one of the class topper-a cheerful, witty girl who's always smiling. But behind her sunshine is a life full of shadows. With a distant father and the pressure to be the "perfect" daughter, Navya hides her true dream: to become a singer. Caught between expectations and her passion, she's fighting her own silent battle. They were supposed to be enemies. Just rivals. Nothing more. But fate doesn't always follow the rules. Join this story of banter, heartbreak, ambition, and unexpected love-where two opposites find a connection they never saw coming. ♡♡♡ Tropes: •Extrovert X Introvert •Sunshine X sunshine •Chaotic X Calm •Academic rivals •Forced proximity •Slow burn •Healed each other

The story is set in early 1990s in a rural area. A bond is formed due to the promise of honour and respect. A marriage out of necessity and maybe a little bit of obsession. A girl filled with the hope of love and a guy completely enamored by her. How will their life unfold? ☆Warning :This story contains mature themes. It is completely fictional and based upon my imagination. It is inspired by the serial named "Begusarai". But only inspired, the story is completely mine. As I said before this is based in a rural area so am just giving you guys a heads up if anybody feels offended. Readers discretion is advised.

This story is set in late 1980s- early 1990s in rural area. The marriage is formed due to unseen circumstances when the bride's groom didn't arrive and for justice, a man was commanded to marry her. The woman has heard the truth of other marriages but still dreams of a good husband and the man is calm person who is obedient son but nothing really mattered to him. How will their marriage go? This is a prequel to Mera Rangsaaz (Veer's story) and can be read as standalone. ☆Warning :This story contains mature themes. It is completely fictional and based upon my imagination. I do not promote anything written inside it, it's just for the sake of entertainment. Readers discretion is advised.

....A son of powerful, wealthy Sarpanch. I belong to a wealthy rich family who live in this village that is the largest one in this whole empire of Ujjain. A family that should be my love, warmth, and comfort ; but nothing like that here exist. I'm Chandra Singh Rathore, the elder brother whose marriage happened after all three younger brothers. You know why? Cause my legs have paralysis and I can't walk in my whole lifetime. Guilt. Anger. Depression. Everything has been subsided in me since childhood. I am a weak man. Very weak man who doesn't even have a true dignity in society. Sitting over the charpai of our house outside the courtyard, I think - today is my wedding night with my wife- Mohini. But the question is, how will I would make her satisfied? How will I make the satisfaction of her sex desires? A man who can't even walk, how will he protect her wife? The last question is : the marriage in which neither I give consent nor she will work? How can a forced marriage work? Mature || 18+

Zehra Hassan She was robbed of her ordinary life, brought into the dirt turned into a profanity introduced to the vulgarity of the red light area. She was tormented by day and tortured at night, fighting to survive in a completely different world. Daiwik Agnihotri The true hand behind every dark action of Agnivanshi. The real merciless man who can close his eyes and drive a car over a person if asked. Handsome but black heart, silent yet vicious. A man who is defination of anger. ~ When the one battling to survive has been served on a platter for a man who knows no mercy, will her bones break or soul will be united? And when you find out that this is not everything they have to offer, how willing are you to sink into the ship of grief and happiness?

Was it her fate? To marry someone 13 years older than her? Sarisha Rawal was the girl who stomped in her town of Vardhgarh on her bare feet, exploring the beauty of living with her open eyes. Until those feet were halted by a tragedy. When eternal sunshine is not so bright eternally and the darkness looms over her life in a form of a husband. There she stands, under a big question to find someone, who is responsible for her miserable state. And that someone she believes is none other than her life partner. Vidyut Daiwar was the right-hand man of the current ruler of Rajasthan's patriarchal modern world of politicians and unrecalled for rulers. When his fate is tied in the game of lands and politics only to conquer something trivial. He is condoned to take the fatal step of marriage. But his unnerving felicity had other plans for him. One he was not ready to accept, at least not in the form of a 19-year-old girl.

⚠️Highly Mature Content⚠️ (18+/21+ Audience only) #19 on Wattpad [21/01/26] SLOW UPDATES DUE TO BOARDS'26 "Chup chaap humari bitiya se byaah lo, daroga... varna jiss taesh se aaye the naa ussi taesh mein apne jigri dost ki laash saath lekar jaaoge." ("Quietly marry our daughter, officer... or else, the same rage you came here with, you'll return with your best friend's corpse alongside you.") An IPS officer. That's what I am. Stoic, trained to face gunfire without blinking, to stare criminals in the eye. And yet, here I stood in a mud-stained courtyard, stripped of power, cornered by men who didn't fear the law. Is this real? An officer dragged into a pakdua byaah like some helpless boy? With a village girl-barely literate, cloaked in shyness and fragility? Me-a divorced man, father to a one-year-old daughter who waits for me to come home? Nothing about it fit. And yet everything about it was true. Because my best friend-my brother in every sense-sat tied to a chair across from me. His hands bound, his eyes defiant, and three guns pointed to his head. Aarish. Soon to be a father himself. Husband to Suhani, who was as much my sister as blood could make her. What was I supposed to do? Marry or rebel? The choice was never mine. I whispered, almost ashamed: "Main talaaqshuda hoon... aur ek beti ka baap bhi." ("I am divorced... and also the father of a daughter.") She looked at me with steady innocence: "Nahi... ab aap ek shaadi-shuda insaan hai. Aur hum uss bachi ki maa hai." ("No... now you are a married man. And I am that child's mother.") TROPES City Boy × Village Girl IPS × Illiterate Forced Marriage / Pakdua Byaah Second Chance at Love Stepmother Role Found Family Traumatic Past Grumpy × Sunshine Duty vs Desire Single Father Romance Slow Burn Romance Innocence Meets Experience

#1- 1990s [15/02/26] #2 - 1990s [07/01/26] #72 - Wattpad [20/03/2026] #126 - Wattpad [15/02/26] #147 - Wattpad [30/01/26] #164 - Wattpad [23/01/26] #172 - Wattpad [11/01/26] Her mother watched her for a moment, then spoke again-this time more deliberate, like she was counting beads on a mala. "Aur sirf roti banana hi kaafi nahi hota, Janvi," she said, turning the tawa. Janvi looked up. "Toh aur kya-kya hota hai maa?" Her mother sighed, not tired-just seasoned. "Sab kaam seekhne padte hain. Kapde dhona, bartaan manjhna, subah sabse pehle uthna..." She continued, as if listing everyday items from memory. "Saree pehnna dhang se, pallu sambhalna, ghunghat mein chalna..." Janvi wrinkled her nose. "Ghunghat mein? Maa, dikhega bhi kuch ya bas andhere mein hi chalna padega? Nah baba nah, hum gir gaye toh...Hum nahi daalenge ghunghat vunghat." Her mother smiled briefly but didn't stop. "Aur baat-baat par zubaan sambhalni hoti hai. Bade-buzurgon se izzat se baat, aur..." she paused for half a second, then added, "Pati jo kahe, usse bhi tameez aur adab se sunna hota." Janvi's hands stilled again. "Har baat?" "Har baat," her mother replied quietly. The silence stretched, broken only by the hiss of a roti puffing up. Janvi looked down at the dough stuck to her fingers, then muttered, half-joking, half-serious, "Maa, yeh sasural hai ya gulaami?" Her mother let out a soft, knowing laugh. "Dono samajh le," she said. She handed Janvi a finished roti. "Isliye kehti hoon-yahan seekh le. Baad mein wahan koi sikhata nahi, bas umeed karta hai..aur umeedo pe nahi khade utarne pe sirf taane."