Picture Of Ariana Grande นิยาย & เรื่องราว

His profile picture was a goofy family shot: Meet the Whitlows, him with Nia and two kids. Bingo. I clicked into his gallery and started scrolling. There, Aria, holding a baby girl. Another, Aria piggybacked on Nia, the caption reading: Look at this skinny bitch. She’d been slimmer then, but still stunning. I kept going. Rome. Egypt. Paris. South Africa. New Guinea. The Caribbean. And then...Aria in a bikini. My heart didn’t just skip it dropped into my stomach. I took a screenshot without thinking, saving it instantly.

Then the first figure raised a hand. The abyss shifted again—this time revealing an image Ariana had never seen before. A little girl. White hair. Silver eyes. A crescent birthmark glowing faintly on her wrist. Ariana sucked in a breath. “That’s… me.” The image zoomed out. Her mother was holding her, tears streaking her cheeks. But she wasn’t alone. Another woman—cloaked, face hidden—stood before her mother, chanting ancient runes over Ariana’s tiny body.

Erin hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her sweats, tugging them down to reveal a lacey black pair of panties. Guess Az didn’t steal them this time. Our eyes locked as she tugged the tank top over her head, revealing a matching lacey bralette. Leaning back against the couch, my tongue slid across the seam of my lips as I drank in the sight of her. (Dangerous Woman-Ariana Grande) Her hands flex around the pole, and immediately, my attention is laser focused. Erin’s chest rises and falls for a few beats before her eyes close, and I’m fucking brimming with the need to see her move.

Ariana forced a smile, her palm holding two small red velvet boxes as she walked onto the stage. At that moment, the large HD screen behind the stage automatically opened, and intimate photos appeared. The entire banquet hall instantly erupted in exclamations of surprise. The photos showed Nelson and Ariana. There were photos from their travels, romantic candlelit dinners, birthday celebrations, and concert scenes. The poses included kissing, hugging, and even intimate shots in bed. Most of these photos were taken from a selfie angle, with occasional shots by others. The expressions in the photos were natural, and they seemed immersed in happiness.

And then— My eyes shot open to the dull glow of moonlight bleeding through my bedroom curtains. My face throbbed. What the—? I groaned and turned my head toward the nightstand, rubbing my stinging cheek. And there she was. Arianna. In real life. Standing there like a storm in silence. In a plain dress cinched at the waist, her hair falling in those wild curls she always tried—and failed—to tame. Her arms were crossed, one brow raised so high it could cut the ceiling in half.

The look on her face when she saw the interior of my jet was worth buying a thousand more jets only for her. Once in a while glancing at her, I was doing my work. She was sleeping peacefully like a baby on the couch, suddenly I hear her saying something so I looked up to see her singing some song, her eyebrows furrowed. She was singing in low voice and gradually she started to raise her voice and I recognized the song. It was "God is a woman" by "Ariana Grande" It was beautiful to look at her while she was singing. She started to move her hands, making those fucking gestures. Fuck!!! It's very difficult for me to watch her while she does that.

Aria said. “Everleigh. You might want to see this.” Desi called out to me from the desk. “There is more pictures we missed. I walk over and look at the ones she has spread out over the top of the desk. I see one with some people I don’t recognize. I see one of Grey and Zayden in the same shape as Stark and Jaxon. I see one of people standing around watching another person on a stage with a mask and cape on. What catches my attention on that one is a female who has her hair pulled up. She has what looks like a birthmark on the back of her neck.

" He waves me off. I shake my head and go into the house. In my room, I kick off my heels, pull off my skirt and blouse and throw on some old coveralls and a t shirt. I throw up a blank 12 inch by 24-inch canvas. Filling my oil paint tray, I press play on my Bluetooth speaker. The hard guitar starts 'Just A Girl' by No Doubt. "Take this pink ribbon off my eyes I'm exposed And it's no big surprise Don't you think I know Exactly where I stand This world is forcing me To hold your hand 'Cause I'm just a girl, little ol' me Well don't let me out of your sight Oh, I'm just a girl, all pretty and petite So don't let me have any rights

It was a picture of Ariana. The giant X drawn on her innocent face sparked something within me, and when I turned the picture to see the message written behind it, I knew that a monster was about to be set free. Let’s see who gets to her first.

“He’s still there, but you try finding a nice word that starts with a A.” Ariana shakes her head and clicks the video call icon despite being clad in nothing but a thing graphic tee and a pair of shorts. Her mussed bangs are all over the place prior to rolling around in bed earlier, yet she sports a bright smile as she listens to the faint ringtone that’s probably coming from Williams’s iPad. “You gonna get that?” She asks nonchalantly. “Don’t wanna.” “It’s probably important.” And Williams groans in response.