"Not because I'm bigger in size mean I'm no less of a female" "It might as well be uh feel him aguh choose you ova me" "Anyday"

Azaria barely has time to breathe before Mr. Ivanov presses her against the desk, his hands locking around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His body is a furnace, searing into hers, and she can feel the undeniable heat of him as his lips hover dangerously close to hers. "Still pretending like yuh don't wah dis?" he murmurs, his voice low and full of sin. His fingers trace the edge of her skirt, moving slow, teasing, daring her to stop him. Her pulse quickens, her thoughts scrambling, but the air between them is electric. "Say di word, Azaria..." he breathes, his lips brushing against her neck, "or mi going tek what yuh too scared to ask for." WARNING‼️ -TEACHER X STUDENT -WRITTEN IN BOTH JAMAICAN CREOLE LANGUAGE (PATOI) AND STANDARD ENGLISH This was written for purely for fun and my enjoyment, enjoy anyways❤️❤️❤️

A JAMAICAN DYSTOPIAN ROMANCE: It's the year 2301 in Jamaica. Yeah you read that right. But what happens when all the roles have switched? When women are the leaders? When the standard of beauty is onyx dark skin and kinky hair? When that same standard determines your societal class? When tiny technological assistants can speak and feel what you feel? Or when the daughter of the High Command Ruler finds herself more than in love with the leader of 'the resistance'? Wish me coulda tell yuh lol, but yahfi just read it.

What is wrong with him? I hate that he stares. I hate the feeling it gives me. It's unsettling... Blood rushes to my face... my head... It's... nauseating. And inconvenient. If he would just stop staring, I could get on with my life and my time here. So what if we've met before? He can continue to ignore me as he has been. I can do the same with no problem. None at all. I just... I want him to look away. I need him to. So I can breathe.

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐘𝐀𝐇 𝐊𝐀𝐈'𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐄 𝐱 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒 ............ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 #𝟐 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐮𝐚́𝐧𝐟𝐞̀𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. [𝑨𝒏 𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆]

Jy'aorie a shy and introverted 22-year-old has built walls around herself after a painful past. But when Earlan Bartley,better known as Alkaline, the charismatic 31-year-old dancehall sensation, sets his sights on her, jy'aorie's carefully constructed defenses begin to crumble. As Alkaline's persistence awakens feelings she thought she'd never experience again, Jy'aorie must confront the demons of her past and learn to trust herself and others. But can she overcome her fears and doubts to let love in, or will her past continue to define her?. Let's find out..🎭 Rankings: 🏅Vendetta 🏅Alkaline 🥉Outlaw 🥉Jamaican 🥈Fanfic

Tianna never cared much for politics, she was just born into it. She thought that was just her life. When her father got elected as Prime Minister Of Jamaica she thought life got harder for her, however she found ways to make the most of it even when she was not allowed to. Three Families, two rival political parties, one hell of a love story, all made in Jamaica.

Rising dancehall star Skippa, renowned for his soul-stirring lyrics, ascends to fame, revealing the authentic stories behind his songs to an ever-growing fan base. But amidst the chaos, he meets Ny'Ava, an 18-year-old who knows little about his world of fame and music. Her genuine nature and lack of interest in his celebrity status captivate him, a stark contrast to the attention he's accustomed to. Intrigued, Skippa sets his sights on Ny'Ava, but their love is fraught with challenges. Betrayal, heartache, loss, and trauma threaten to tear them apart. As they navigate the turbulent landscape of their relationship, they must confront their deepest fears and vulnerabilities. Will Skippa and Ny'Ava overcome the darkness that surrounds them, or will their love succumb to the pressures of fame, expectation, and past demons?

"Move from in front a mi," I say. But it comes out softer. Weaker. More honest than I intended. I'd be on the first plane out of here tomorrow. Nothing that we've said in the past twenty minutes would matter once I am on that plane. We are tied to each other, and our pasts don't have to intertwine any more than they already have. He doesn't move. I step sideways. He mirrors me, like he's tethered to the same gravity. "Kymani-" "Selah" My name in his mouth feels like a dare. A part of me wants it to feel like a promise. I shake the thought. After what feels like a standoff written in the marrow between us, he finally exhales and steps back. Barely. But enough. I don't waste it. I slip from his hold, my heartbeat pounding in my throat, in my ears, in the soles of my feet as I bolt toward the door. I leave him there. Leave the house. Leave the heat still burning between us. And I run. Fast, desperate, the same way I did the first time I left this place. The same way I survived. I don't look back. Not at him. Not at the house. Not at the version of myself that's still trembling inside those walls. Not anymore.