#2 in Top 10 in India on (9/4/26) #1 in Top 10 in India on (12/4/26) Myra sharma had heard his name before she ever saw his face. Armaan Brar. The President of Chandigarh National University. Final-year Political Science student. RSVP's rising youth face. The boy professors avoid. The one students don't look in the eye. The one whose footsteps are enough to silence a corridor. They say he once pulled a gun on campus. They say he wins elections the way he wins fights... ruthlessly. They say crossing him is a mistake you don't repeat twice. And she believes every freaking word. She's just a first-year B.Com student. From a Middle class family, She left Lucknow with dreams in her suitcase. Chandigarh National University was her dream. Her fresh start. Her escape. Living alone in a new city wasn't easy but she was determined. Far away from politics, power, and people like him. Her only goal? Stay invisible, don't get noticed by bullies in college.. But Armaan Brar notices her. And that's where the problem begins. And Armaan Brar has never been gentle about what he wants. Tropes:- - Desi punjabi munda x Innocent hindu girl - college president x simple student - first love - rich guy x middle class girl - 5 years age gap (don't judge my book with this description there is a lot more about Armaan and Myra, give it a chance please...it's my first story.)

A stern father compels Zarrar, 29-year-old surgeon into an arranged marriage with Hana, a 22-year-old student living in London. Zarrar's quiet and precise -surgeon hands, feelings kept in small, tidy drawers. He shows up: checks BP without being asked, doesn't do big speeches; he does refills and follow-through. Hana-bright, stubborn, and armed with wedding rituals -a full on desi glow,talks before she thinks, moves through rooms like she owns the air in them Electricity, sarcasm, and two very different ideas of "marriage" share the life. dive into the story of something very different from soap operas. TROOP ~ choas x cold yapper x listener age gap. doctor's divine

"Treat my wound" he said, laying down on the cold floor of the maid's room in his mansion. "B...but it's too deep. I can't... you need to go to the hospital, sir" the maid replied, her lips trembling, tears pooling in her eyes. "Do it" he said calmly, no trace of pain on his face as he turned his back toward her, his skin carved with wounds. With shaking hands, she stepped closer, the first-aid kit clutched tightly. Tears slid down her cheeks as she began treating him. He lay there on the floor, careless of dignity, of blood, of the world, his eyes fixed on her. And in them lived something forbidden... something powerful enough to destroy everything. He asked her to treat his wounds. But what he truly wanted... was for her to heal him. And she...she was forbidden to even think of him. Forget healing him. What will happen when a sinister mafia becomes obsessed with his maid? Will a soft, pure-hearted girl fall in love with the man the world fears to even look at? Read the story to find out what destiny has planned for them.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 ᴋᴀᴍʀᴀɴ ᡣ𐭩 ɴᴀᴀᴢɴᴇᴇɴ He stiffened instantly, his lips slowly parted against hers as he pulled back. Wrapping her in his arms, he patted her hair gently, his voice low and soothing. "Shh... main kuch nahi karunga, okay?"

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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 ꜱᴀʜᴇʟ ᡣ𐭩 ʜᴀꜰꜱᴀ Note: Shikanj 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. They are my babies. I gave birth to them. I do not care about views or attention, but I do care deeply about my babies. So please think twice before commenting just to spread negativity. Otherwise, I will not hesitate to become your biggest ill wisher. Consider this your warning. Tracing her bangles up, he let the silence speak for itself for a while and then muttered, "Aapko choodiyan pasand hai?" He asked, pulling her body closer by her wrist, and now she stood almost between his legs. She was blushing, looking nervous and uneasy but he paid it no mind. "Ji, pasand hai." He hummed, nodding. "Agar mujhse ye toot gayi toh aapko acha nahi lagega na?" He murmured, lifting his other hand, puffing out another air of smoke.

𓇢𓆸 ꜱʜᴀʜᴍᴇᴇʀ ᡣ𐭩 ʟᴀɪʙᴀ "Wo humare wo neighbour hai na, jinke paas wo safed kutta hai, americano skomo dog.." "American Eskimo," he corrected lazily, a small smile tugging at his lips.