Copyright © 2025 {Completed} Maysa has always lived between worlds - the daughter of an Arab father and a Nigerian mother, raised in a home that looked perfect from the outside but was already breaking behind closed doors. From an early age, she learns what it means to be too much of one thing and never enough of another. After her father's death, the space between those worlds only widens. Rejected where she expects comfort and misunderstood where she seeks belonging, Maysa grows up carrying quiet losses, complicated family ties, and questions she's never been allowed to ask out loud. As she steps into adulthood, she is forced to confront what she's been taught about love, loyalty, faith, and womanhood - and what she actually believes. In a world where tradition speaks loudly and girls are expected to endure silently, she must decide who she is beyond survival. Then she meets Faruk - steady, patient, and unexpectedly gentle with the parts of her she keeps hidden. With him, Maysa begins to question whether love has to be painful, and whether softness can exist without loss. Maysa is a coming-of-age story rooted in culture, family, and faith. It explores identity, belonging, and the slow, fragile process of choosing yourself without losing where you come from. Soft, emotional, and deeply human, this is a story about a girl learning that strength doesn't always look like resistance - sometimes it looks like becoming. This work "Maysa" published under this account is an original story written by me, larh_writes. No part of my book may be copied, reposted, translated, or adapted without my explicit written permission. Support originality. Respect the writer. Copyright © 2025 All rights reserved Story Rankings #1 in Nigeria out of 1000+ stories #1 in identity out of 1000+ stories #1 in mixed out of 1000+ stories #1 in Egypt out of 1000+ stories #2 in Arab out of 1000+ stories #1 in naija out of 877 stories #4 in north out of 1000+ stories

Heyy. ✌🏼Islamic story. Two broken souls are meant to be together but only Allah knows, will they heal mend their heart or completely destroy themselves ______. "If yes? Then who can Mold My heart". An Orphan, Widow and a single Mother who is left with only one person, her backbone. Her daughter, She keeps her going. 'In this world, I Just have hope in My Allah that things will get better eventually inshaAllah'. 'Me and My Daughter will heal each other and don't need anyone anymore'. But Little does she know, her daughter craves a father and they need 'him' to be complete 'Him' the richest man in the city. 'Him' who does not know patience and gets his way in everything. 'Him' a ruthless,rich,ignorant man who is broken to say the least and does not know how to earn love but to snatch it. 'Him' who cannot let anyone touch what's his,without knowing what his is and who is. ____. Guys Please do Vote. Share and comment to show your Love in B.S. ●° Haram Police, please not in here. Thankyou

Asma'u believes in marriage the way she believes in oxygen - necessary, non-negotiable, and somehow always just out of reach. She comes by it honestly. Growing up watching her parents love each other with the kind of ease that looks effortless and never is, she decided early that she wanted exactly that. The same warmth, the same certainty, the same soft place to land. What she got instead was a series of men that can only be described as practice for patience. After enough disasters to fill a journal - and she has, unfortunately, filled one - Asma'u is starting to wonder if the problem is her. Then Yahya comes back. She remembers him as the neighbor's son who was nineteen when she was twelve - patient, steady, the kind of person who made the world feel safe just by being in it. When he appears at her parents' door years later and asks for her hand the same evening, it feels like an answer to every Dua she's ever made. She says yes before she finishes thinking. This is a story of love, desperation, and the quiet cost of marrying a memory.

Guns, violence, and murder. This wasn't the life I chose. But fate had other plans. Once, I was a simple girl living a simple life. But that all changed one fateful day... The cartels, the bloodshed, the endless fear. It began when I met him - Jamal Abdullah. My world was turned upside down, and I was thrust into a realm of chaos and obsession. Love, loyalty, and survival. The lines blurred, and my life became a deadly game. Join me on this twisted journey, where loyalty will be tested, and love will be questioned."

He was her calm. She was his storm. But storm doesn't only destroy, they also force rain. And rain? It makes things grow.

⚠️This story is a work of fiction and explores themes based on cultural traditions, emotional struggles, and personal transformation. She stormed out to the garden. "Say something!" she snapped, eyes burning. "Or are you still playing that 'I'm-too-pure-to-talk' game? Still pretending to be holy?" And that's when Raif moved. Fast. Zariah didn't even have time to blink before her back hit the nearby pillar - not hard, but firm enough to freeze her breath. His hand gripped her waist tightly, the other at her wrist, locking her in place. His chest pressed to hers. His face was inches from hers. His voice was deep. Controlled. But deadly serious. "It's no longer like always, Zariah." Her lips parted. "I used to ignore you because I knew my limits. I'm not like those men who flirt and sin and call it love. I feared Allah more than I ever desired you." His eyes narrowed, dark fire glowing behind them. "I didn't punish you back then because I respect women - even when they spit venom. I kept my mouth shut, not because I was weak... but because you weren't my mahram. I had no right to look at you, touch you, even speak without reason." He leaned closer, and she could feel his breath brush her cheek. "But now..." His grip on her tightened, and her body trembled - not from fear, but from the intensity in his words. "Now you are my wife. Now, you belong to me. Halal. Lawful. Mine." Zariah tried to turn her face away, but he caught her chin, tilting it back to him. "Now I can do anything I want. I can touch you. I can silence your insults without guilt. And I can show you what it means to be owned in a way that'll make you crave it again." His lips brushed her neck, just for a second - before he bit her. Not soft. Not brutal. But just enough to sting, enough to leave a mark. Zariah gasped, frozen. He pulled back just a little. "This-" he said, brushing his thumb over the fresh mark on her neck, "-is the first of many."

"What are you doing here" She questions eyeing him while walking towards her closet to pull off the clothes from the party. The prince is sitted on the bed, fingers fisting the sheets as he stares at her his Adam's apple bobbing from each ragged breath. "I'm here for you" He states his voice raspy. stunned she turns around so fast she stumbles "Here for me" the laugh that escapes her is unintentional. "Excuse me your highness but please get out" Now with a slightly colder voice she tells him trying to be polite. He freezes, eyes darkening at her words before wetting his lips "I'm not going anywhere, now come here. I want you" He says eyes fixed on her and she lets out a breath her glare begining to form. "No" The word escapes her as she turns to walk into the closet. "I'm here as your husband" The prince mutters and she freezes, her own fingers tightening over the silk dress she has on before she whips her head to stare at him. when her family would visit the palace she'd always leave with one name and that is 'His wife' with whispers within and outside the palace crawling over her as they refered to her as the 'Prince's wife' 'Judge's wife' but she'd brushed it all aside deciding it was best to address such issues when they are about to happen and unknown to her it came sooner than later. Their wedding was set to take place in a few days and she felt only calm towards it only for her to wait...wait and be told he's getting married to another and that she's out of the equation. Broken, confused and cold is what she feels but she lets it all go thinking maybe they were never meant to be. what happens a few years later when she's summoned home by her father, she introduces her man only to get rejected and this time she's told she'll marry the prince as his 'Second' wife his Second choice and this is where she catches on fire after all 'What remains of them'. Will she marry the prince. Not when he's one hell of a mad man. Them

NOT A HALAL LOVE STORY!!! By twenty-two, Zainab Bello had perfected the art of disliking men without apology. Not quietly. Not politely. Loudly, deliberately, and with enough reasons to justify it. Men talked too much when they knew too little. They took space like it was owed to them. They listened only when it suited them. And if there was one thing Zainab was certain of, it was this: any room that required her to shrink for a man was not a room she intended to stay in. So when the white Benz scratched her car and sped off without an apology that morning, she didn't see an accident. She saw proof. NOT A HALAL LOVE STORY!!! Updates every Sunday.

Minal never planned to be caught between two men especially not Khalil, the one who once broke her heart, and Abdulrahim, the man who's been her steady support. Now Khalil is back, determined to fight for her despite being pushed toward a marriage he doesn't want. Abdulrahim, calm but confident, believes actions speak louder than words and he's been there for Minal when it mattered most. As family pressure mounts, emotions collide, and loyalties are tested, Minal must face the truth: love isn't just about who you care for... it's about who's truly willing to fight for you. Two hearts. One choice. And a future that could change everything.

Same religion, different ethnicity! This story practically revolves around the relationship between two culturally different persons, and the challenges they faced in getting the approval of their parents in their inter-tribal marriage. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Manal Usman is 21 years old and has just finished her NYSC program. She's the daughter of Usman Maidoki, the district head of Unguwan Doki. Her father is widely known for his tribalism and prejudice, thus no one in their family is allowed to marry someone outside their ethnicity, Hausa. Idris Abdulmalik is a 28-year-old Pharmacist working with one of the public hospitals in Kano. His mother is Igala from Kogi State and his father is Nupe from Niger State. They have been living in Kano for nearly two decades now... •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• This is outrightly not a true life story but a product of my own imagination. Hence, any resemblance to an actual event is a mere coincidence. However, you should know that the locales are a combination of reality and whims. Read more by adding this book to your library. Thank you. Dedicated to Haulat S. Adamu (Rest In Peace)