This is the story of a lone wolf billionaire who longed for love and a lower middle class teacher who spent her life taking care of everyone except herself. --Aadarsh-- He wasn't the kind of billionaire people feared. No arrogance. No cruelty. No cold, heartless eyes. Just silence... and a heart that broke too young. At fifteen, he lost the only person who ever felt like home - his mother. And with her... he lost a part of himself he never found again. The world saw a calm, composed billionaire. But behind that quiet exterior lived a boy stuck in his past... carrying wounds no one could see. And then there was her. --Meera-- A girl from a struggling family, holding life together with trembling strength. A teacher in a small, unnoticed school. A daughter blessed with love, yet burdened with responsibilities. An elder sister praying every day for her younger sister to get healed soon. Soft. Shy. Gentle... yet stronger than she knew. Two lives shaped by pain. Two hearts that chose silence over words. What happens when a man who buried his emotions... meets a girl who hides hers behind quiet smiles? Some love stories are loud and chaotic. But theirs? It begins in silence... and slowly becomes everything they never knew they needed.

This is a story of a woman who struggles to make her living and an upper middle class man who is looking for a perfect life partner to whom he want to share his life with... . . . . An arranged marriage story of an understanding couple. No drama, no misunderstanding, no villains This is my first story so kindly support me to write further.

Set in the 1980s, in a village where traditions hold more power than dreams. Tara-a young woman trapped by societal expectations, burdened by rejection, and scarred by loss. With nowhere left to turn, she finds herself at the edge of despair, questioning if there's anything left to fight for. Then there's Dhruv-a man who refuses to accept the world's injustices as fate. Practical yet defiant, he challenges the very beliefs that have kept Tara caged. When their paths collide on a fateful night, neither of them realizes that this meeting will change their lives forever. This is their story-a tale of love, defiance, and the struggle to break free from a society that refuses to change. But in a world where rules are set in stone, can love truly rewrite destiny? ☆ Warning - This story explores themes that may be sensitive or uncomfortable for some readers. It is entirely fictional and based on my imagination. Given its setting in the 1980s, in a rural village, certain events may reflect harsh societal realities. Reader discretion is advised.

Eighteen-year-old Bhakti- a fragile, innocent girl burdened with responsibilities far beyond her age. A sick mother. A drunkard father. Endless suffering, carried silently as she struggles to survive each day. One stormy night turns her life upside down. By morning, she steps out of an old, broken hut- wrapped in the coat of the village Sarpanch, Rudra Pratap Singh. She believes no one saw her. But within hours, she finds herself standing before the very man whose coat now clings to her trembling body. Rudra Pratap Singh. Twenty-seven. The powerful Sarpanch who never imagined he would spend a night in a forgotten hut outside the village. A broken car forced him to stay. But his helplessness dragged an innocent girl into chaos. A man whose heart had never beaten for any woman makes a sudden, calculated decision- to marry Bhakti. One is innocent. The other, shrewd (for World). For one, marriage is the beginning of life. For the other, it is merely a responsibility. But the real question remains- will Bhakti ever become Rudra Pratap Singh's devotion? Or will this bond be crushed between power, silence, and sacrifice? #1 in poorgirl 03-02-2026

This is the story of a girl from 1940s household... Parthivi stood by the doorway, fingers clutching her saree. The scent of turmeric and camphor lingered, remnants of rituals binding her to this house. Yet tonight, she felt more like an outsider than ever. These were the days when a woman was set apart, told she was impure, untouchable... reduced to dust brushed aside. She had lived through this in her father's house: a corner on the cold floor, a separate plate, silence heavier than any punishment. She had never questioned it. She had only learned to obey. But here... this was not her father's house. Her lips trembled. "Where... should I sleep? I... I am not allowed on the bed..." Aditya's gaze rested on her slight frame, noting the way she shrank before the world. Not fear of him, but fear of existence. "When you already reside in my heart," he said, calm, steady, "...how can a mere bed decide where you should lie, Ivi?" No defiance. No anger. Just quiet acceptance. Her breath caught. Slowly, she lifted her eyes, searching for mockery or dismissal. None came. Only a quiet certainty. In For the first time, she felt invited to simply be. The weight she carried, the silence she had endured, softened in that moment. Perhaps this was what it felt like-to be cared for, without expectation, without fear. And in the stillness, a fragile hope took root, small but undeniable: a crack in the silence, a first step toward trust, toward something deeper.

She was the bride and then she become a wife . The perfect life, the perfect family, the perfect wedding, the perfect partner. But things changed and she became the widow the very next moment in the same place she became a wife, a bride. She is cursed, she is widow. Nobody will take her or????? All copyright reserve to me. so dont think of copying my work. story contain mature themes. # 1 in REPLACED ON -12/09/25 #4 IN SOUTH INDIAN ON -12/09/25 # 17 IN SECOND MARRIAGE ON -12/09/25

"Time is not a straight line. For some, it is a prison that loops endlessly, dragging them back to the very fate they would sacrifice anything to escape." Loosely based on my favourite novel. For more info refer to the author's note Strictly 18+ Language: Tanglish - Tamil soul, English letters. © 2026 Thulir. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author.

Strolling through the dense woods and scavenging for specific herbs and plants was a daily chore I didn't mind. The silence from the hustle and bustle of the village, the soothing chirps of birds and insects, and the freshness of the air flowing through the trees. It was all that made up my world being a healer in a small village. It made my life soundless, harmless, and unnoticeable, just as it was commanded to be. Anything beyond was a privilege I couldn't even dare to wish for. But when he came strolling into my quiet life, I couldn't help but hope for more. Wish for more. His glittery brown eyes which held warmth like glistening honey under the sun rays. His husky tone and deep voice which drew chills up the length of my spine. And his luscious pink lips which soundlessly promised me sins and desires I couldn't stop dreaming about. I didn't know when they began to control the beating of my heart and direction of my life. The spark in him lit up my world and I willingly burned in it with nothing but love. Oh, how I wish it could all be mine. That feeling of being the queen sitting in his heart and ruling his life. Or that feeling of the blazing fire licking up my soul as our breathes caressed each other's faces. Or that one where his lies and baseless promises felt nothing but true in the depth of my gut. It was too late now. I was bound by blood and duty, and I had no choice but to vanish from his hold to save my kingdom from the impeding war and chaos. Read on to live the story of Rudraksh and Bhairavi!

"Untie your lehenga," he said. "Huh?" I blinked, pretending I hadn't heard. Or maybe hoping I hadn't. "I said..." His gaze slid over me, heavier than touch, "untie the string of your lehenga." "And?" I asked, trying to match his tone. I hated how breathless I sounded. "And..." He whispered, "Insert your fingers down there. Then lick it slowly. Show me if your little jungle medicine works. Maybe I'll join you later." My hands froze. What? My eyes snapped to his. He was watching me-like a hawk that had already stripped away every feather I'd used to hide. He knows. He knows. 𝗛𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝘀. ❖ She was never meant to be his bride. 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗮 𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗲 was the jewel of Rajgarh - a woman born of fire, trained in every royal art, even the forgotten ones whispered in hushed tones by dancing courtesans. He was meant to destroy her. 𝗥𝘂𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗵 𝗦𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗵 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗵, the ruthless crown prince of Devgarh, didn't want love. He wanted vengeance. She was the sister of the man who broke his own sister's heart. And so he took her. As a bride. As a weapon. As a wound. But what he didn't see coming... was the ache she awakened in him. The way her silence burned deeper than screams. The way her defiance tasted of poison and honey. Now the war is no longer on the battlefield. What happens when the enemy begins to crave her? This isn't a love story. It's a slow-burning fire. And a marriage soaked in secrets, storms, and stolen breaths. "She will break... the day I stop touching her with hate." And when he finally touches her with something else- Will she still be his enemy?

Aaruthiran stood by the rusted SUV in the campus parking lot, glancing at the stalled engine. "Call your mechanical team," he said. A voice from behind, calm and clipped: "They're at lunch. But you've got me." He turned. She walked over, sleeves rolled, sleek in black formals. "You?" Click. Click. She tapped the distributor cap. "Shayeli. Professor." She glanced at him once. The engine came to life. And for the first time, the man who fixed everything-forgot how to breathe. "WE GOT #1 in Lecturer & Sivangi 😭🏆 This is insane-thank you all!"