Hey guys! I'm writing one shot FanFictions for my users! They can almost literally be ab anything! Spanking or non spanking, sex, love, fluff, age play, pretty much what you want! Just drop it!
"Hey Papa." Nayiri the daughter of Arman Morales and Nadia Morales spoke as she walked in through the doors of the casino coming from school.
"Ny, sweetheart what are you doing here?" Arman spoke to his daughter, Who usually knew not to come to the casino unless her parents instructed her to. After school, her surrogate grandfather Hayak was supposed to pick her up if Arman or his wife Nadia were busy at the hotel casino, which they currently were.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Grandpa said that he would be late picking me up so, I should just catch and Uber here, and he would pick me up." Ny said as she took a seat at the bar. "Where is mom?" She asked her father as she looked at him in the casual business suit he always wore to the hotel.
"She is in her office, after you get your food please go in there please, I don't need people talking about seeing my teenager at the bar." Arman said.
"It's not like they would notice me over everything else that goes on in this place anyway." Ny mumbled under her breathe.
"What was that?" Arman asked with his eyebrows raised.
"Nothing." Ny quickly fixed. One thing about Armenian parents is that they do not play, disrespect of any kind is never tolerated.
Nayiri Morales is 15 years old. She is an Armenian/Mexican American teenager living in California with her mother and father. Her mother Nadia Morales was Mexican/American and her father Arman Morales was Mexican/Armenian. Her family is famously apart of the Armenian Mafia. Her "grandfather" is the leader who is Hayak. Her father, who is the second in command of the operation had know Hayak since he was a child, and had always treated him as a son, after his father died young; hence how this wonderful drug, mafia, lifestyles came into play. Nayiri had been born as raised in the life, and didn't mind it. She wasn't a normal 15 year old girl. Growing up in a Mafia family meant their was a constant looking over your shoulder and re evaluating your life. She didn't worry about normal teenage girl problems, well she did, but that wasn't the only thing that was on her mind. Most teenagers would probably be upset their parents offered them a life of crime, but Ny wasn't, she never was. This life had taught her something. Unlike most teenagers Ny could kill a man with her bare hands. She had been born and raised to fight for her life at all times. Most girl teenagers were apart of the cheer team or dance team, she was, but cheer and dance wasn't all she could do. Ny trains everyday after school, with her older brothers and cousins. They could shoot weapons since they were 5.
"Where are Davit and Erik?" Arman asked his daughter.
"Umm, I have no idea." Ny said as she grabbed her necklace.
"Mhmmm, Nayiri?" Arman tried again. She sighed.
"Hayrik.." Ny whined revert back to her native tongue.
"Nayiri Morales, where are they?" Arman tried one more time to get the truth from his daughter.
"Last time I checked they had basketball practice." Ny sighed as she waited her food about to head into her mother's office. That was definitely going to come back and haunt her later. He shook his head as he pulled out his phone.
