#prințesă

[eeunwoo]

yeji singing red lipstick by lee hi on lee mujin service 🩵

[specificmadness]

You may not be my own flesh and blood, but I will protect you forever as if you were. You are my daughter, my heart, my love, my sun and my moon. And no matter what ever gets in your way, no matter who tries to break your smile, it will have to deal with me.

Ti amo tanto quanto tua madre, il mio tutto

@mcfiosa

[bmhasdeu]

„Ultima prințesă a Daciei” de Zuzana Kuglerova

„Ultima prințesă a Daciei „ este o carte care ne transpune într-un univers plin deistorie, mister și legendă.Zuzana Kuglerova aduce la viață o fascinantă poveste despre o eroină uitată dinistoria Daciei, captivând cititorul cu detalii istorice și aventuri palpitante.Romanul îmbină armonios faptele istorice cu ficțiunea, construind un tabloucomplex al unei lumi pierdute.Acțiunea romanului se…

[tinylilacbun]

Dinner time at Avengers Tower

Baby: “Daddy, tan you pwease pass da salt?”

*Steve & Bucky both grab the salt at the same time*

Steve: “Here you go, honey.”

Bucky: “Sure thing, doll face.”

Steve: “…”

Bucky: “…”

Steve: “She was talking to me.”

Bucky: “That’s where you’re wrong. She was talking to ME.”

*Steve & Bucky arguing over who is daddy, and who is dada*

Baby: *sighs*

Baby: “Uncle Petey, tan YOU pwease pass me da salt?”

Peter (Parker): “Sure!”

Pietro: “Of course, Prințesă.”

Peter: “…”

Pietro: “…”

Peter and Pietro at the same time: “She was asking me!”

*Peter and Pietro arguing over who Uncle Petey is*

Auntie Nat: “Oh, you guys are ridiculous!”

Auntie Nat: *passes the salt to baby*

Auntie Nat: “Here you are, sweetheart.”

Baby: “Fank you!”

I was already dying because of Steve and Bucky but I totally lost it when Peter and Pietro started arguing too 😭😭😭😭

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: unprotected p in v sex, pet names, a little Romanian (printsesa - princess) is spoken, body fluids, sweet dirty talk, hand job/finger fucking - f recieving. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt - lovemaking ( bonus blurb )

character | fandom - pietro maximoff / quicksilver | marvel cinematic universe

reader | original character - female reader, Stark!female reader & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 1.3k

tagging - < taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . Pietro uses his body to comfort you during a bad storm..✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

He’s almost asleep when the storm reaches it’s worst. As he rolls over and prepares to shove his head beneath one of the pillows, he hears the door to his room being opened quietly. You make your way over to his bed, same as you’ve done for at least two other nights this week and when he feels the bed dip down, he reaches out for your body in the darkness.

❝ The storm again, prinţesă?❞ he yawns out as he finds you and pulls you down into bed right next to him. You slip your legs between his legs and roll on your side so that you’re face to face with him as you nod and yawn sleepily. 

If your father had any idea you’re sneaking off your wing in the tower to come and find Pietro Maximoff lately, he’d probably murder Pietro. He’s always told you that the guys he works with are off limits, completely. And you get it, but try explaining that to your heart lately.

Pietro’s the only man you’ve ever willingly sought out. He’s the one you can’t seem to stay away from. 

As you drag your thumb over his bottom lip, it quivers. Pietro pulls you closer, strong arms wrapping around you to hold onto you tight. As he holds you, he hums an old Sokovian lullaby against the crown of your head because normally, this will knock you out faster than anything. 

After a few seconds of laying there quietly, you squirm against his body a little. The leg that started out between his legs winds up thrown over his hip. Pietro swallows down the massive lump as it forms in his throat and after a second or two of trying not to cave in and do it, he places one of his massive hands on your thigh, fingers splayed. Squeezing the soft dough of your bare thigh. Your breath hangs in your throat and you end up gasping  quietly as a result.

He can feel the way your heartbeat is starting to sync with his, the thought draws a lazy smirk to his lips. You look like there’s something you’re dying to say but you can’t find the words and this prompts him to speak up first. ❝ Te vreau prințesă pentru mine.❞

You melt against him just a little. Every single time he calls you printesa lately, it makes you feel things. Strongly. Deeply.

You’re in love with a man you can’t have and it’s only getting so much worse lately. 

❝ Hmm?❞ you purr, soft voice muffled by the way you’ve shifted yourself so that your face is buried in his chest. It’s probably the biggest reason he said what he just did, you weren’t looking at him and that made it so much easier to finally say. His hand skims up and down your thigh and you whine, rubbing against him just barely able to stop yourself when you realize you’ve just done it.

He reaches down and cups your chin to make you look him in the eyes. And after a long pause, he mumbles it again. Softly. With rough lips brushing right against yours as he says it in your language and not his native tongue. ❝ I want you to myself, princess..❞ he trails off, a split second to panic as you process what he’s just saying.

What he’s been calling you since the day your father brought the team back to live at Stark Towers. He’s been calling you princess this entire time and you never had a clue. And he’s always lingering, watching you. Quick to volunteer himself up for the  task when Tony asks if one of them will kind of keep an eye on you if he’s been threatened or he feels you’re up to something you maybe shouldn’t be. That’s how you wound up befriending him in the first place and now.. Now you’re hopelessly in love with him, kept silent by your father’s no dating an Avenger rule as well as your own fear that Pietro doesn’t even see you that way to begin with.

❝ You’re the only person I come to, Pietro.❞ you mumble quietly, your gaze lowered and your soft voice muffled yet again by his chest. As you speak and your lips graze against his skin, he digs his fingers in against the meat of your thigh, squeezing because he knows he’s a second away from losing control of himself completely.

When you rub against him while trying to get as close as possible, he bites back a groan because he can feel his cock getting even harder. He’d been just about to resign himself to masturbation to the mental image of you for the millionth night in a row before you sought him out. When he realizes what you’ve just said, he cups your chin. Makes you look up at him again. ❝ I can...❞ he pauses, taking a deep breath as he loses the battle with his own self-control and bucks himself against you,drawing a whimper out of you in the process, ❝ I can take your mind off of the storm,  prințesă.. Do you want me to do that?❞

You swallow hard and nod, staring up at his handsome face, dragging your hand over it in awe. ❝ How.. How would you do that, Piet?❞ you ask quietly. Heart skipping a beat when the dark chuckle leaves his lips, hanging in the air between the two of you for a second. As his mouth moves in for the kill, the hand on your thigh slips down between your bodies and it settles against your cunt. Soft and careful, the heel of it pressing right against your clit as he massages you through your panties. ❝ Making love to you.❞ he answers just as his thick tongue parts the barrier your plush lips form and begins to glide over the surface of your own, slow.

Slower paced than you thought the Sokovian speedster was capable of.

You whine out his name and melt into the way he’s holding you. As his hand speeds up just enough to give you a little more friction, you rock yourself against his hand. Thick digits push past the soaked silk barrier of your panties and pushes them aside, thumb circling your clit in slow and agonizing strokes. Careful. Gentle.

And then those thick fingers bury inside of you three at once. You’re stretched and this makes you gasp as you suck his neck and wrap your arms around him to cling even closer. He’s bucking himself against your thighs a little for his own friction and as he does it, he gasps against the shell of your ear. Each dirty thing he says to you in a mixture of Sokovian and English is enough to make you whine for him. ❝ Now? Please..❞ you whimper, begging for it, ❝ I need you now, Piet..❞

He licks his lips and stares down at you, watching the way you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, the heat in your soft little body pinned below his and he can’t wait another second.

He buries his cock inside you and goes still, letting you get used to the way he fills you as the two of you share a kiss that doesn’t end until neither of you can breathe. As the kiss breaks, he fucks into you long and slow, massive hands pinning your wrists above your head and flat against his pillow. You whine and rock upward to meet his thrusts, eager and impatient but each time, you’re met with Pietro using the strength in his muscular frame to keep your hips pinned against his mattress. He noses some hair away from your ear and mutters quietly, ❝ Is this helping, my love?❞

You moan out a breathy yes and your nails dig into his shoulders once he's let go of your hands again,dragging over his back as he pushes himself inside you completely. Raw. There wasn’t even a second’s thought given to protection, only the lust both of you have been struggling with and Pietro’s need to calm your fears and do whatever he could to protect you from them.

If it means fucking you all night, it’s something he’s more than willing -and more than happy, to do. 

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Red Handed - Nick Fowler x OC

warnings: cat burglar x cia agent, strangers to lovers, one night stand (maybe?), smut, 18+

word count: 6.8k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1458283445-red-handed-kara

vibe: “Clock’s ticking, handsome.” 

He sighed, rolled his eyes as if the whole thing was an inconvenience and casually tipped the gun away from himself with a finger. 

“Nick,” he said, casual as anything. “Nick Fowler. And you are?” 

She searched his eyes, looking for the lie. When she didn’t find one, she lowered the gun. 

“Kara.”

Masterlist

3…2…1…showtime.

Kara counted down the seconds on her watch and then boosted herself up and over the wall that bordered the property. Keeping low, she skirted around to the back porch and crept delicately up the paved steps, deftly avoiding the motion detectors for the lights surrounding the outdoor pool. She reached the box that connected to the house alarm and pried open the cover. 

“Piece of cake,” she murmured with a satisfied smile as she snipped through the wires that powered the security system.

The back door proved no match to her lock-picking skills either and it was less than a minute before she was standing in the darkened kitchen, the door closed tight behind her. From her memory of the plans and the drone flyover she’d done the day before, she knew exactly where to go. The bedroom was easy to find and a decent search provided her with four high-end watches and a dozen pairs of solid gold cufflinks. She left the room as neat as she’d found it - she was a thief, not an animal.

The office was next. Kara didn’t find anything of value in the desk so she began to search the shelves that lined the back of the room. A statue caught her attention, a small sculptural piece, and she reached out to check the base for a maker’s mark. It didn’t lift completely but instead tilted forwards. At the same time, a large section of shelving swung open to reveal a hidden safe. 

“Bingo,” she whispered in satisfaction but faltered as a loud mechanical whirring echoed around the empty house and the windows were covered over by thick metal shutters.

“Well, shit!” 

She darted into another room. The same metal shutters covered the windows. 

“Shit!” She fought to keep her breathing under control as she paced around the room. “Okay, if you panic, you’re screwed. There has to be a way out of here, all you have to do is find it.”

Kara had been doing this her whole life. Her dad taught her how to pick locks when she was a kid and her career took off from there. She’d always been quiet, always blended into the background… perfect for her profession. 

Not so great when it came to other aspects of her life, though.

But right now, blending in was going to have to be her greatest asset. 

She scoured the rest of the house, rushing through the kitchen and down a long hallway with marble floors until she found a door at the end of it. Just as her fingers wrapped around the handle, she felt something cold pressed against the back of her neck. 

Kara froze, eyes wide as all of her breath was sucked from her lungs.

“Don’t. Move.”

The voice was soft with a touch of gravel to it. It made her head buzz and her stomach flip. That’s when she noticed that that incessant whirring noise from the alarm had stopped. All she heard was the rustling of his clothes and rush of his breath.

“Please—“

“I'm not interested in begging, prințesă.” His laugh was as cold as the barrel of the gun that he pushed deeper into her skin. “I should execute you right here, right now.” 

Her breath stopped completely at the coldness of his words. Her mind blank as she stood still as a statue, not even daring to breathe in fear of what he'd do to her. 

This had never happened before. It shouldn't have happened now when she was prepared and had planned for weeks how to get in and out quickly. Undetected.

So much for that, she thought.

"Show me both hands, up and palms open." The command was soft. Calm as a snake. 

She hesitated for a second and it made him press the barrel harder into her skin and her hands jolted up instantly at the threat.

“Good girl,” he rumbled with a click of his tongue. He kept the gun in place, pressure lifted just a little but still the threat was there. As was the airy flutter in her stomach. “Now, I’m only going to ask you this once. What are you doing in my house?” 

Kara swallowed, fought back the roll of her eyes and the sharp retort on the tip of her tongue. 

In the beat of silence, she heard him take a step forward, the light tap of an expensive shoe on the polished floor. The barrel of the gun dug in again, warm now, and when he spoke this time, it was close enough for his breath to send a loose hair tickling her jaw. 

“Answer me, sweetheart. Or you’re not gonna like how this goes.”

“I think I’ll plead the fifth,” Kara replied, trying to turn her head but freezing as the pressure against her neck increased slightly in warning.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he purred. “Who do you work for?” In any other situation his tone would have elicited a completely different reaction but Kara swallowed thickly against the knot of fear in her throat.

“What sort of C.I.A statement is that?” She snarked, straightening her shoulders with a bravado she didn’t truly feel.

“Oh, that was definitely the wrong thing to say, sweetheart.” A large hand curled itself around her bicep. “Now I need to know who sent you.”

“Since you decided to play nice,” Kara teased in a sardonic sing-song voice, feigning nonchalance.

It was hard when he sounded like that. 

Even harder when he was a heartbeat away from watching her brains splatter against the eggshell paint on the door. 

His shiny shoes squeaked on the floor and as he moved closer, her senses were flooded with the smell of spice and sage. His lips pressed against the shell of her ear.

“Tell me, prințesă. I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Natasha.” She grabbed the name out of thin air, but when he stiffened against her body, she knew she was on to something. 

Suddenly, she was spun around and slammed against the door. The gun was tucked beneath her jaw and Kara found herself face to face with a set of stunning cerulean eyes with flecks of olive and navy near his pupils. They glittered like a dark ocean, piercing hers. The rest of him was just as easy on the eyes. Sharp cheekbones, a strong square jaw, and full lips that curled into a vicious smile. Everything was topped off with short dark hair and a bruise on his cheek.

“You lie,” he spat. “I killed her in Kyiv.”

First mistake about this line of work? Never give out more information than you should.

“You’ve got a lot of enemies, blue eyes.”

She was just making an assumption based on how wealthy he was. Good guys don’t have secret doors leading to big ass vaults.

“So that’s why you’re here?” His voice was a snarl and the sneer on his face grew wider. “If you wanted to kill me, you’re doing a shit job of it.”

“Am I?” She purred. “Because you seem pretty shaken up right now.”

“Am I?” He mimicked with a shine in his eyes. “Tell me, sweetheart, how much do you actually know about me?” 

Kara frowned as he urged her on with a firm press of the gun into her jaw, leering at her in the dark. 

Her eyes flit over his features, lit partially by the moon through the window. Up close he was handsome, dark stubble and a soft dimple in his chin. In fact, his whole face was softer than his manner, a harsh contradiction, and suddenly, it all clicked into place. 

“I know you were a double agent, probably still are…” she replied, confidence lacing her words. “The type to fuck over a friend or two.” 

And that must have hit a nerve because Mr Blue Eyes faltered for just a second before he regained composure and shoved her into the door once more.

His handsome face curled into a snarl as he ripped off her backpack, the muzzle of the gun still jammed dangerously into the soft flesh under her jaw. Throwing her bag far off to the side, he let one hand slide expertly over her side, her ass, and around each leg, searching her for any hidden weapons. He didn’t find any, of course, but he obviously wasn’t satisfied as he forced her to face the wall once more. It was then, with a gun pressing into the back of her neck for the second time that night, that Kara heard the jingle of metal and a pair of cuffs were snapped around her wrists.

“What the fuck?” She spluttered as she was manhandled onto the leather couch on the other side of the room and forcibly made to sit.

“Listen,” he sighed, pulling the desk chair before her and perching on it, his posture indicating his exhaustion. “If Natasha sent you, your intel is obviously way out of date. I really don’t have the energy to clean blood off my $3000 rug tonight so if there’s anything you feel the need to share then now’s the fucking time.”

Kara met his icy stare. There was always the possibility of dying in her occupation, but she never really thought she’d encounter it before. Now, there was a glock pointed right at the spot between her eyebrows being held by an incredibly hot, but incredibly dangerous man. She could tell by the way he searched her that he was law enforcement. 

And that CIA comment really seemed to piss him off. 

Her eyes darted around the room and she heard him cock the hammer.

“Eyes on me,” he snarled. “You don’t look at anything, you don’t touch anything, do you understand me?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and he took a step toward her. 

“I asked you if you understood—“

“I do,” she snapped. “The gun is a little distracting.”

“Well, you made your bed. Now it’s time to lie in it.”

She quirked a brow.

Now there’s an idea

“You always keep cuffs on you?” Kara asked, lips curled into a smirk. “Is that like, a thing? ‘Cause I gotta say you do seem like the type—”

Blue Eyes cut her off with a glare, jaw tight and throat bobbing heavily as he swallowed. 

“You’ve got too much of a mouth on you to be one of Natasha’s,” he commented, eyes narrowing. 

Heart thudding in her chest, Kara peered up at him and decided it was time to up the ante if she was ever going to get out of there.

“Is that so? Why don’t you let me out of these cuffs and I can show you just what this mouth can do? Then you can decide if it’s a hindrance.”

“How ‘bout we see what you were after first and then I’ll decide,” he said with the barest hint of a smile.

Hooking his foot into the strap of her backpack, he pulled it towards himself and rifled through it, tutting and shaking his head in dismay before pulling out one of the watches she’d pilfered.

“The Director gave me this for excellent service,” he admonished, holding it up. “You don’t work for Natasha, you’re nothing but a petty thief. You don’t even have any weapons on you.”

Kara shuffled uncomfortably. “I’m not a petty thief,” she said indignantly. “I’ll have you know I’m very skilled at what I do. If you weren’t such a psycho with your security you wouldn’t have even known I’d been here until you wanted to change your watch.”

 “To your credit, you’re the first chancer to even make it in the house,” he mused, appraising her with fresh eyes, 

Kara could feel his gaze as it scanned over her, the intensity of it raising goosebumps on her skin. With what seemed like a resigned sig he leaned forwards, he face as close as the barrel of the gun that was still pointed in her direction.

“If I take off the cuffs are you gonna be a good girl?” He purred.

“That all depends on what you’re going to do for me.”

He lifted a brow as he let her backpack fall to the floor with a dull thunk, stepping over it and drawing a small shape on her cheek with his pistol. 

“You came into my house and stole my shit. You’re in no position to bargain.” He cocked his head to the side, using the barrel of the gun to turn her head. “Beg, maybe…” 

His suit was tailored. Custom fabric, too. Italian silk. No brand name, either. One of the first things she learned was being able to clock just how expensive something was on sight. Custom Italian leather shoes, silk socks, and expensive cologne. Tom Ford… she was pretty sure, at least.

The Rolex on his wrist was fake, though. The real one was in her backpack. 

He tucked the gun into his pants and pulled her to her feet. 

He worked quickly, freeing her hands with a click and pressed the gun against her neck.

“You don’t work for anyone, do you? You’re just a lost little—“ 

Kara snatched his wrist, twisting his arm until the gun tumbled from his grip. He let out a pained yelp as she spun around, kneeing him in the gut. He hit his knees and instantly reached for the gun, but she was faster, scooping it up and pointing it at him. Instantly, he put both hands in the air. It was hard not to let her eyes wander too far from his face. In the fight, the buttons on his dress shirt had popped open and she saw a small gold chain resting against a chiseled chest.

“Lost your edge, blue eyes?” She taunted.

Those eyes glittered as that malicious smile returned.

“How much do you know about art?”

“Enough to steal the good shit,” she replied, cocking the hammer. "Tell me your name."

He chuckled, licking his lips as his eyes lingered on her body.

“You first, prințesă."

Kara huffed, he really was a cocky son of a bitch. 

Taking a step forward, she bent at the waist and reached out. Blue Eyes hissed as she skimmed the tip of the gun along his stubbled cheek, curving across his sharp jaw on its way down to his chest. She hooked the chain around the barrel — a dainty St. Christopher pendant dangling between them now as she pointed the gun under his chin much like he had done earlier. 

“Clock’s ticking, handsome.” 

He sighed, rolled his eyes as if the whole thing was an inconvenience and casually tipped the gun away from himself with a finger. 

“Nick,” he said, casual as anything. “Nick Fowler. And you are?” 

She searched his eyes, looking for the lie. When she didn’t find one, she lowered the gun. 

“Kara.” 

“I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Kara, but well…” 

“Rude,” Kara sniffed,  gesturing to the sofa she had recently vacated with the barrel of the gun. “Take a seat, Nick Fowler,  I guess we need to talk.”

Nick rose from the floor slowly, warily, and perched on the edge of one of the leather cushions. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forwards slightly, feigning nonchalance, although his clenched jaw gave him away. Kara took his place on the desk chair, crossing one leg over the other as she learned back and rested the gun against her thigh.

“So, you mentioned art?” She asked, her brow cocked with barely-disguised interest.

He stood up and poured a drink, despite the fact that the gun was still aimed at him.

“You like whiskey, Kara?”

“I’m more of a cosmo girl, myself.”

“Well, I’m fresh out of vodka.” He set two intricately designed crystal glasses on the bar cart, pouring a generous amount of amber liquid into them. 

She liked the way his hands flexed around the neck of the bottle. Her throat tightened along with her stomach in quiet anticipation. She could still feel the cool metal from the gun when he brushed it across her cheek, making her whole body light up. Suddenly, she needed that whiskey more than she needed to get out of this fucking house.

“I have a very wealthy client who’s interested in fine art. The kind of shit people crowd around the Louvre to see. He wants a very specific painting in his house, and he wants me to help him get it— now, I'm good at my job, but I'm not a thief-- here.” 

His expression was soft as he approached, eyes more vibrant and pleading. Her fingers wrapped around the glass as Nick settled into the seat beside her, both of them taking long pulls from their drinks. 

“Since when does the CIA help criminals?” Kara asked.

“Probably since we shot JFK,” Nick snorted into his glass.

Kara huffed out a small laugh of her own and took another sip of her drink, relishing the burn as she swallowed. 

“So you what? Want me to steal it for you? Because let me tell you, my services are not cheap.” 

“You’re a petty thief—“ Nick started, a sigh behind his words. 

“I resent that,” she replied pointedly. Making herself comfortable, she curled her legs up beneath her. Nick followed her movement, scowling. “We’ve already established I’m highly skilled, and you clearly need me to pull this off so… what are you offering?”

Nick looked her over, mulling his options and doing a piss poor job of hiding his interest in more than just her skills as his eyes lingered on her lips. 

“What does a thief need that they can’t just take?” He asked her, his head tipping to the side in question as a conniving smile spread across his face. 

“The same thing CIA agents need.” A tight, clipped laugh tumbled from her. 

Nick’s blue eyes watched her, flickering quickly to hers before he feigned disinterest. “What would that be?” He asked. 

“I see the way you look at me,” she said, “and I wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t thought about it,” Kara cooed. Nick studied her expression and let her continue.“Oh come on…Affection without strings, human intimacy.” 

Nick’s hand flexed around his glass, a small but noticeable shift in his steeled demeanour.

“Are you lonely, Mr Big-shot? That’s it, isn’t it?” Kara pressed, a sly smile creeping across her face. 

“You heard of Wrightwood 659?” Nick asked with a cough, not-to-subtly changing the subject.

“Chicago, right? From what I know it’s a pretty exclusive gallery,” Kara replied, leaning back in her chair with a smug smile - she knew she’d touched a nerve.

“Exclusive gallery, expensive artwork,” Nick confirmed.

Kara rose from the desk chair and curled up on the sofa next to Nick, a little too close for a business meeting, and tucked her legs under her. 

“I’m listening,” she said.

“There’s a certain painting there that my client would like to…acquire,” he continued, swallowing as she ran a finger down the silky fabric of his lapel.  “I can handle the security, I can even get rid of the local police. What I can’t do is actually get the damn picture.”

“And I’ll bet that frustrates you no end, right big guy?” Kara giggled softly, taking a sip of her drink.

“You watch that mouth,” Nick growled, but Kara was ready to sink her teeth into him.

He seemed to like it. His jaw ticked, his cheeks turned pink, and he gripped that glass even tighter when she riled him up. Men were fucking easy, it was embarrassing. 

“How much does it bother you?” She purred, reaching out to gingerly brush her finger along his sharp jaw. 

Nick’s breath hitched, lips pursing at her touch. He looked angry, furious, even, that she was challenging him like this. Taunting him like this. But the growing tent in his pants told her he liked it.

“How much does what bother me?”

“Not being the biggest, baddest, smartest man in this room?” She grinned, chewing on her lip as she let a little bit of the whiskey run the most impulsive parts of her brain. 

“Do you want the job, or do you want that gun in your mouth?” He countered.

“Oooh," she let out a teasing whimper that made his cock jerk. "Don’t tease me, Agent Fowler…”

Kara watched as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, his narrowed blue eyes stayed on her as his tongue flicked out over his bottom lip. So much for being a big powerful agent, he wouldn't last a day if it was this easy to get to him. 

"Do you want the job?," he took in a sharp breath, clenching his jaw as he did, "or not?" 

"I still have yet to understand what's in it for me," she smirked, running her hand into her long black hair, "other than you not killing me" 

Nick took a large gulp from his whiskey glass, and tilted his head to the side, "Fifty grand if everything goes off without complications, and you get to keep your life and name out of my books" 

"Seventy five and you forget who I am completely," she countered. 

With a snort, he turned his attention back towards her, "You think you're in a position to bargain with me?" 

Kara shrugged, "You're the one who seems to be in need of my services to keep your client happy, so yes actually,"

Nick heaved a sigh and ran his hand over his face. 

"I'm gonna regret this," he muttered before shifting in his seat and offering his hand. "Deal. But do not fuck this up for me." 

Kara slid her palm against his; soft, warm skin enveloping hers as they shook on it. 

"No promises," she whispered, a cheeky little grin on her face. 

Hand still in his, she dragged her gaze from their fingers curled around each other to his face, neither of them moving and the tension thick enough to suffocate. Nick's teeth sunk into his bottom lip, tongue trailing slick and wet over the small indents they left in the skin and Kara's breath hitched as he tugged lightly on her hand.

“I mean it Kara,” his voice dropped in a husky tone as he stared her down. “There are a lot of places for a thief to go missing and if you screw me over I will hunt you down.” 

“All this flirting a girl’s going to think this is a date.” Kara’s eyes flickered to his lips. 

“You have a mouth on you, one of these days it’s going to get you in trouble.” Nick warned. His hand still gripping hers tightly. “You better be careful.” 

“Being careful is boring, Agent Fowler.” She mocked with a smile on her face. She knew he was trying to intimidate her but a familiar warmth blossomed in her stomach with every veiled threat.

“Is that why you got caught?” He fired back, eyes blazing. 

Anger bloomed in Kara’s chest, hot and unrestrained. It seemed like Nick enjoyed riling her up, too. What really pissed her off is that she thought everything was perfect when she'd broken in here. That she’d disabled the alarms and gone through every single step to ensure she'd be in and out within twenty minutes. She wasn’t as prepared as she should have been.

Maybe it was fate, but did fate have to make her look like such an amateur?

“I got caught because you have a shitty home security system.”

“If it caught you, I'd say it's worth every penny." Nick sipped at his whiskey. "Wouldn't you?"

“You know what I mean.”

“That I made you look like a fool?”

His vicious little sneer made her want to smack him or kiss him to shut him up. 

She didn’t like failure. It was part of her profession, sure, but not like this. She was used to having lock picks breaking off mid-heist, not being caught by the world’s most embarrassing alarm. 

“What the hell are you doing installing metal shutters on the windows and automatic locks? Is the hope diamond in this fucking house?”

Nick reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and she bristled at his touch, spine straightening instantly as her cheeks warmed.

“You’re pretty when you’re angry."

Despite the heat under her skin, made evident by a betraying pink blush no doubt, Kara quirked an eyebrow.

“Seriously, that’s the line you’re going with?” 

Nick’s fingers trailed across her skin, soft along her jaw until he cupped her cheek and pressed his thumb to her bottom lip. 

“Is it working?” He murmured, blue eyes flickering from her mouth to meet her gaze then back again. “Because I know you caught on to how I’ve been looking at you, but don’t think you’re so subtle either, sweetheart.” 

Kara tried to shuffle back but was met by the arm of the couch. 

“This isn’t a wise move if we’re going to work together, Agent Fowler,” she warned, ignoring the quickening of her heart and swoop of her stomach as Nick dragged his thumb across her lip and left a shiver-inducing tingle in its wake.

“A wise move would have to skip this house and hit the next one.” He said leaning closer. “A wise move would have been to do your research before breaking in.” 

Nick stared at her and it made her skin tingle as she fought to catch her balance with the furniture pressing into her back. 

“Looks like you’re all out of wise moves.” He watched her, gauging her nervous reaction.

“You said careful was boring, right?”

A ravenous void filled her belly as the weight of his words pinned her to the couch. Everything about him was dangerous, and probably a lie. 

But it was just a job, right? 

His knuckles brushed her cheekbone, the smell of his cologne overwhelming her senses as he leaned in closer. Warm breath fanned against her skin and her heart pounded. Nick’s mouth curved into a defiant smirk as he licked his lips.

“Are you afraid of me, Kara?”

Her voice caught in her throat and his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. The whiskey on his breath was intoxicating, making her feel light headed. She sucked in a shaky breath and Nick’s eyes danced around her face. He seemed to be taking note of every muscle twitch, every shiver, and he could definitely feel the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

“Strange how all of that fire you had just… vanished.”

There was that flare of anger again, and this time when he licked those plump lips, she couldn’t help herself.

“Fuck you.”

Her mouth crashed against his in a hungry and vicious kiss. Nick groaned as she clawed at his biceps through his suit jacket. Quickly, it was clear who was really in control as his tongue pushed against hers, licking and stroking every inch of her mouth. It was like he was searching for something.

Nick tore his mouth from hers, mouth bitten-red and his pupils almost eclipsing the beautiful blue of his eyes.

“There she is.”

"Shut up," Kara whispered sharply, as she stood straight, pressing her body against his before gripping the collar of his suit jacket and spinning them around, caging his body against the couch with her own.

His hands found purchase on her waist, tangling his fingers into the leather of her jacket. Just the look in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine, and for a brief moment a flash of softness came across Nick's features before he pulled her closer and attached their lips once more. 

This was a bad idea. Kara knew it. But the charismatic bastard was a damn good kisser and seemed to present a challenge that no one had given her in a long time. He knew what she needed before she even knew herself.

Nick nipped at her bottom lip, soothing the sting with his tongue, hot and wet. Kara bit back, teeth and tongue. His hands trailed up over her sides until he cradled her breasts in her palms. The heat of his hands wandering her body made her tense up, instinct telling her to stop but it was too good, too much of what she hadn’t had in so long.

Nick tore his mouth away, panting and with a flushed cheeks. He stared up at her with a little smile and a curious glint in his eyes. 

“Look at you. All fire and fight, are you always like this, prințesă? Or are you gonna a let me see your soft side?” Nick murmured, swaying forward again until his lips were a mere whisper from hers. “Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

“You’ll have to work hard to find her but she’s there,” Kara hummed as Nick’s hands roamed over her thighs up to her hips before curling his fingers into the band and tugging her hips toward him. 

“I don’t mind the dirty work,” he smirked and dug his fingers into her ass, rolling the material down to feel her skin as she arched her back toward him. She watched him with intent as he kissed a warm, wet path of kisses across her exposed skin. Every shimmy of the fabric revealing more of her as the two of them sunk to the floor. His eyes darted over her thighs, taking in each scar and blemish with brief pause, each one would tell a story of past jobs. But Kara didn’t care for the tiny flicker of pity that crossed his face. 

“Do you need a formal invitation or?” She sat up on her elbows and stared down at him, his blue eyes flickering up from between her now bare thighs.

Nick flashed her a toothy grin that made her heart flutter before trailing his lips up and down her her inner thighs. His stubble set her skin ablaze and she tipped her head toward the ceiling, a soft sigh slipping out as he used his teeth. Gently. Too gently. She reached out, gripping his hair tightly.

“Do you think I’m too delicate?” She whispered.

Nick sunk his teeth into her supple skin, biting down hard enough to make her cry out. This time, when he lifted his head, his smile was triumphant.

“I think you put up so many walls you don’t even know who you are anymore.”

She scoffed as he soothed the bite with a flick of his tongue, slowly trailing it along her warm skin. 

“I came here to steal your shit, not get psychoanalyzed,” she bit back.

Nick grabbed her lace panties with his teeth, snapping them against her hip. Kara let out a yelp and he chuckled, making it up to her by teasing her clit through the soft fabric. Agonizing circles that made her shake despite the defiance that was bubbling up inside of her. She was smart, ferocious, and resourceful. This man didn’t know a damn thing about her— and knowing exactly where to touch her didn’t count.

“Come on, Be sweet for me."

She huffed a laugh and he nuzzled into her thigh, his hot breath fanning against her cunt.

"You give me what I want, I give you what you want.” He quirked a brow. “Symbiotic relationship.”

With that, he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking it through the fabric. Kara gasped, her back bowing as she wrapped both legs around him and squeezed tight.

“Symbiotic relationship,” she moaned.

He was too damn good at this.

His deep chuckle against her cunt sent a shiver through her body, the tip of his nose brushing lightly against her clit before he placed a gentle, teasing kiss on it, "Good girl," he rasped. 

Kara's head pressed back into the cold marble floor as her body screamed for him. The coolness of the floor contrasting the fire that burned underneath her skin every time his blue eyes looked up at her from between her thighs. 

Nick's fingers hooked into the band of her lace panties as he pressed a wet needy kiss onto her hip bone, "Can I take these off, Kara?" 

"God please," she breathed out, wiggling and lifting her hips to help him out. 

Slowly, Nick pulled the fabric from her body, trailing his fingers down her legs as he did so, adding more fuel to the already scorching fire that she was feeling. Tucking the lacey fabric into his suit jacket pocket with a smirk, his fingers grasped her ankle, "If you keep being good for me, you can get those back" 

He trailed his lips from her ankle down to her inner thigh, leaving bite marks and soft licks in wake, pulling every sweet sound from Kara's throat that she could muster. This man was more dangerous than she could have imagined.

“Keep them,” Kara whined as he began to climb back up her legs, each kiss warmer than the last and the heat that filled her body was insatiable. “As a token of my gratitu—“ she moaned as the ticklish scruff of his sculpted jaw brushed against her inner thigh.

“Speak up Kara,” His breath fanned over her clit, completely lost under his spell she almost started to beg him for more but swallowed the urge. 

“Get to work,” she said instead, hiding beneath the harsh exterior in a feeble attempt to control the situation as his tongue lapped through her at a torturous pace.

His low chuckle sent her into overdrive, both hands in his hair as her hips bucked and she tried to get more pressure, but he was a fucking menace. Whenever she thought he’d hit the right spot that would send her tumbling over the edge, he switched up the pressure and pace. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as a painful sense of desire took root in the pit of her stomach, stretching through every nerve ending like tree roots. 

He was fucking teasing her, his fingers dancing up and down her thighs. The softest touch as he gave her swollen clit gentle flicks with the very tip of his tongue. 

“More,” she begged. “I need more.”

He stopped, lifting his head and meeting her gaze. His eyes were swirling with storm clouds, nearly all black as he drank in her half naked form.

“All you have to do is beg.”

“P—“ She stumbled over the words and he chuckled, teasing her pussy with one finger. 

“How hard is it? Having to ask for what you need?”

“You’re a fucking asshole, Fowler,” she snarled.

He pushed one finger inside of her, curling it until she whimpered. Nick’s power enveloped her like a tidal wave and she knew her only choice was to give in or deal with this knot in her stomach on her own time. There was no fucking way her shower head was going to compete with that tongue and those lips.

“Be a good girl and say please.”

"Please," Kara whined, bucking her hips against his hand, her moan echoing through is office. 

He was going to pay for this, she thought to herself in the midst of her pleasure. 

His finger curled inside her as his tongue flicked over her clit, and she could feel him smiling into her and relishing in every whine that dripped from her lips. 

"Much better," he whispered into her cunt, pulling her clit between his teeth before sucking on it.

Nick’s free hand gripped her thigh and lifted her leg to rest on his shoulder. Spreading her open on the floor and allowing him to sink his tongue deeper. She shuttered around him, barely able to form a word as he slipped a second finger into her centre.

“Talk to me,” he instructed between tiny nibbles, pulling away just long enough to make her miss the feeling of his teeth against her clit. “Let me hear all those pretty sounds.” 

“Oh,” she whined, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as Nick curled roughly against her cunt and drove his tongue upward through her. 

“Louder,” he demanded and Kara’s skin tingled from the sound.

She let out another whimper and he lifted his head again, giving her a break she didn’t want.

“I said talk to me, sweetness. Tell me what makes you feel good.”

She panted and squirmed, her pussy aching for more. His mouth was perfect and he licked her with just the right amount of sweetness. Her toes curled, missing that tongue deep inside her.

“D— fuck.” She groaned. “Do that thing with your tongue again.”

“As you wish, prinţesă.”

With that, he nestled between her thighs, fingers sinking so deep into her flesh he was bound to leave more marks. His marks. Not scars. Something beautiful. And she wanted all of it. 

His tongue dove back inside her, curling upwards as the bridge of his perfectly straight nose bumped up against her clit. Kara gasped for air, fire in her blood as she twisted the soft strands of chestnut hair between her fingers.

“Just like that,” she cooed. “Oh, fuck, Nick!”

The cord in her belly wound tightly the more his tongue worked. Kara could feel every sense of herself falling apart for him as her thoughts swam through her pleasure. 

"God -" she cried out, her nails digging into the marble beneath them, trying to ground herself. 

Another deep chuckle rattled through her center, "There's no god here, just me" Nick rasped out, before diving back in. 

She could tell the cocky shit was enjoying every moment of having her completely in his control, and for once, she wasn't about to stop it. This was one time she didn't mind being under a man's spell. This man specifically. 

A sharp gasp left her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut, her pleasure building deep in her belly, "Nick, I can't-" she whined, her hips moving in rhythm with his tongue. 

Nick shook her head, pulling her clit between his lips and sucking, keeping up his pace as he worked her perfectly. 

"Sing for me, Kara," he whispered into her. 

And just like that, the cord in her belly snapped. Her vision went fuzzy as she cried out, her pleasure echoing through the marble office. One of her hands curled into his chestnut brown hair, holding him in place as she let her orgasm wash through her entire body.

Kara let her head fall against the floor, hand still laced in his hair she rode the euphoria down until her vision cleared and she could breathe again. Nick’s hand tangled with hers, linking it into his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles as he sat back. His thighs flexed against the fabric of his pants, tightening as he sat back to admire her. 

“What a pretty mess you are,” he licked what remained of her off his bottom lip and sighed as his eye dragged over her disheveled figure slowly. She felt like he was all over her skin even now.

“I need to start making more deals with hot CIA agents,” Kara panted, pushing up onto her shaky elbows.

Nick got to his feet, refilling their drinks and helping her back onto the couch. Kara reached for his cock, and he snatched her wrist, clicking his tongue gently. His hands were soft and he linked his fingers in hers, a surprisingly tender gesture for someone like him. Her brows knit together in confusion and she tilted her head. What did she do? Why wasn't he fucking her?

"You don't want me?" She asked, trying to keep the humiliation out of her voice.

Nick latched on to her vulnerability like a shark smells blood in the water. 

"I never said that." His eyes raked over her messy hair and glistening skin. "What I do want is leverage. You do this job, you get the money and I'll make you scream as much as you want. For a whole weekend. You won't leave my bed."

Kara scoffed into her drink.

"Withholding your cock like it's some kind of prize is quite the negotiation tactic. Did you learn that in spy school?"

Nick slowly licked her arousal off his fingers, smirk growing wider by the second.

"It's working, isn't it?"

She sighed into her glass, relaxing against the sofa as his hand slid up her thigh.

"What do I need for the job?"

"Everything you brought. I'll take care of your wardrobe, hair, and makeup. We can even pretend to be newly engaged." He grinned. "I'll make you rich, Kara. I promise you that."

Maybe getting caught wasn't so bad after all.

[officialromaniantranslatiuni]

"Am eșuat ca prințesă Disney. Acum sunt... dragon."

😒😒😒😒😒

Slay, balauro... ce să zic...

[goodeevilgirlintentions]

Mă masturbez cu gândul la tine

Îmi mângâi mica zeiță pentru tine

Te vrea

Iau telefonul și îți arăt

Nu te așteptai

Te exciți, îmi arăți și continui cu mesajele

" te vreau atât de tare iubito"

Sunt supărată pe tine

Nu m-ai iubit de mult timp

Pielea cere să fie sărutată de buzele tale fine

Sânii rotunzi și apetisanți

Așteaptă mângâierile tale

Buzele îmi sunt uscate iubire

Atât cele de sus, cât și cele de jos

Nu ți-au mai simțit limba de ceva vreme

Mă expun

Îți arăt cum tânjesc după tine

Cum mică prințesă se udă

Te aștepta

De ce nu vii?

E pregătită

Eu o pregătesc pentru tine

Voiam să mă dorești din ce in ce mai mult

Te sun

Fără cuvinte

Gem când îmi răsfăț feminitatea cu un deget

Îți aud respirația accelerată

Gem și mai tare când introduc al doilea deget

Îmi masez sânul

Sânul pe care îl adori

Să-l muști, să-l sugi, sa dormi pe el

" Vreau să terminăm împreună"

Măresc ritmul mișcărilor

Mă urmezi

Te simt de parca ai fi lângă mine

Gemetele vorbesc pentru noi

Tare și clar

Ne dăm drumul

" Ești minunată"

Și tu ești

Dar nu-ți zic

Nu până când n-ai să mă iubești

Pasional, tare și dur

Te vreau

Deasupra

Sub

Și în mine

[shopbutic]

Cele mai elegante rochii de seară

Cele mai elegante rochii de seară-Ești în căutarea unei rochii de seară elegante și sofisticate? Află cum poți obține un look de invidiat cu aceste sugestii de stil și culori în tendințe. În fiecare seară specială, o femeie dorește să strălucească și să fie în centrul atenției.

Una dintre cele mai eficiente modalități de a atrage toate privirile este alegerea celei mai elegante rochii de seară. Aceste rochii sunt piese de artă care îmbină designul sofisticat, materialele prețioase pentru a crea o apariție memorabilă.

În primul rând, o rochie de seară elegantă trebuie să aibă o croială impecabilă. Rochia trebuie să pună în evidență formele feminine și să ofere un aspect liniar și fluid.

Fusta poate fi amplă și vaporoasă, în stilul unei rochii de prințesă, sau poate adopta o linie dreaptă și minimalistă, pentru un look modern și sobru. Detaliile precum decolteul sau spatele gol pot adăuga un plus de senzualitate și eleganță.

[differentdreamer]

Pe femeia care va alege să stea lângă mine, o voi trata ca pe o prințesă pentru că am fost crescut de o regină! ❤️

[eeunwoo]

itzy’s yeji and lee mujin singing im gonna love you by d.o 🩵

[felka360]

Acum sunt în capitolul 5 în Idiotul de Fiodor Dostoievski și îți spun că e o carte foarte minunat și bun de citit,

Este despre un om prinț mișkin care e foarte bun la suflet și este foarte inteligent și el vine înapoi la Rusia și el este îndrăgostit cu două femeile prințesă Nastasia Filipovna și Aglaia care îs amendoi implicat cu bani, și să vede că mișkin nu este de acord cu cele personale el să întâlnește.

Eu te recomandați această carte pentru că e foarte minunat, amuzant și poți să te relaxezi în pat când vrei și să o citești!

Mi-o dat aceștia cărți partea 1 și partea 2 de la cineva în familia mea dar poți să cumpăr Idiotul de pe "bibliotecă adevărul" online.

[tuturica]

Copiii din vise

Dragă Lily,

Trebuie să știi că îmi lipsești. Mă gândesc cum ți-ai dansat valsul, cum ți-ai luat viața în propriile mâini. O să încerc să nu te uit. Deoarece oamenii normali uită și rar își amintesc. Nu știu unde ești, deci las scrisoarea în vânt, într-un vânt care poate să ajungă la tine și să îți citească vorbele mele. Ai fost mereu lângă mine și mi se frânge inima când știu că ești singură. Creația și însăși creatorul... Mi-ai dat speranță. Mai ținut în viață ... și acum mă lași să mă sting, precum lumânarea de pe noptieră. Continui să dorm, nu mai am pentru ce mă trezii...Vreau să știu un lucru: De ce ai plecat ?  

P.S: De ce m-ai lăsat visând?

                                                                                           Un umil scriitor  cu mintea goală

                              ***

   Lumea uită. Lumea uită și rar își mai amintește. Dar Lily nu știe asta. Are un suflet prea pur să afle, să descopere întunericul. În cele mai negre momente, oricine poate găsi fericirea, dar trebuie să ne amintim să lăsăm loc  luminii. Lily e prea naivă. Lily e prea...diferită. E un fluture care încă nu și-a deschis aripile. Cu ochii ei albaștri limpezi, cu pielea ei fină ca roua, ca o prințesă din povești, te vrăjește. Acest copil stă în fața unui birou la care scria un autor, cel mai creativ dintre toți pe care îi cunoștea fata. E un om trecut prin viață. Cel puțin așa își arată ridurile ca niște raze de soare în jurul ochilor osteniți, aproape închiși.  El visa. Refuză să doarmă într-un pat. Cea mai bună pernă e o carte, deoarece îți șoptește noaptea povești. Această persoană misterioasă de pe scaunul de lângă masă e prietenul lui Lily, Charles. Îi citește poezii cu glasul lui mieros și îi dezvăluie lumi nemaivăzute. Asta o ține în viață. Omul de la birou e familia lui Lily. O iubește și o îngrijește pe copilă, o face fericită. Cel ce scrie la birou e totul pentru Lily.

-Charles? grăi fata cu glasul ei gingaș. Îmi spui o poveste?

-Noi trăim o poveste deja draga mea, mormăii bărbatul. Mintea unui om e complicată. Când ai intrat prea adânc, nu mai poți ieșii... Tu ești gândul meu Lily. Pentru tine ies din vise. Pentru tine intru în realitate.

Copila se întoarse spre Charles .

-Dar atunci cum îți mai amintești dacă trăiești sau visezi?

-Nu o fac.

                                                                              ***

Ochii roșii și grei se deschid în fața unei lumini orbitoare. Peisajul în care se află e greu de distins, încețoșat. O voce îi strigă numele repetat:

-Charles! Charles!

Persoana din pat nu avea un nume. O cunoștea dar nu o mai văzuse, cel puțin nu aici, nu acum. Un déjà-vu. Era ciudat. Cuvintele erau blocate undeva adânc în gândirea lui. Nu putea rosti nimic. Era întemnițat în propriul corp.

Era o cameră rece și tristă. Timpul trecea și stătea. Trecea ca vântul când ,,Charles” încerca să înțeleagă unde se află. De ce nu se află acasă la biroul său? Trecea cu atâta greutate, uneori chiar se oprea, când își auzea inima bătând greoi. Glasul lui a fost eliberat pentru a zice un cuvânt de care nevoie. Sufletul lui ținea de simplul cuvânt:

-L..Lily...?

                                                                                   ***

-Tata...! strigă un glas bine cunoscut.

Charles avea puterea să își dezlipească pleoapele. Era întins pe podea. Dar nu era aceeași. Lily...

-Tata!

-Da fata mea? răspunse el într-un final, trezit din acel somn profund și ciudat.

-Visai? Zise fata cu un glas tremurând, aproape de lacrimi.

Charles se gândea la tot ce s-a întâmplat, la expresia persoanei de pe pat. Nu... Nu a visat. Era diferit. Prea diferit ca să fie un vis. Poți ajunge la un moment la care să te întrebi ce e un vis? Sau să te îndoiești de realitate...

-Lily, visezi?

-Nu. răspunde fata cu o urmă de îndurerare.

-Trăiești?

-Nu. plânge fata, goala asemeni unei fantome.

-Atunci? întreabă Charles nedumerit.

-Tu mi-ai dat viață. Tu mi-ai spus că mintea omului e complicată. Tu ești acel om. Visezi ,chiar de ai vrea să trăiești. Ești doar Tu...

Fata începea ușor să dispară. Se evaporă în aer. În fumul lumânării de pe noptieră. În parfumul florilor din vază.

Pe fața lui Charles se vedea un râu de lacrimi. Și a plâns... Și a plâns... A plâns până propria lui durere a început să îl amuze. Până când toate gândurile sale au prins aripi. Doar o foaie a mai rămas. Chiar dacă trebuia să rămână o carte. A început să facă ce știa mai bine. S-a dus la birou și a început să scrie:

Dragă Lily,

O să încerc să nu te uit. Deoarece oamenii normali uită și rar își amintesc.

De ce m-ai lăsat să mor?

P:S: De ce m-ai lăsat visând?

În noapte strălucea o lumină. O lumină orbitoare. Îți lua vederea și îți dădea una mai bună. În care poți să zărești fericirea în orice. Scăldat de aceea lumină, cerul se oglindește în mare. Un cer pustiu. Nu se arăta nici o stea. Doar Luna dansa pe cer. În noapte căutai pe cerul gol o urmă de viață. Lumină cerească dădea viață, o împrăștia pe tot văzduhul. Luna știa că se plimbă printre vise...

                                ***

În noapte, Jack se întinde în pat. Nu putea să închidă ochii. Ceva misterios îl ținea treaz. O rază în subconștientul lui. Palatul lunii strălucea și se arăta în fața ferestrei lui. Cu ultimele lui puteri, se duse la geam să o vadă pe regina nopții. Vântul deschise draperiile. Jack era  tras de Lună, de luciul ei, de magia ei. Luna se deschise în fața lui și el o ascultă. Nu știa însă că intra într-un labirint fără sfârșit.

Băiatul merse pe un coridor cu mii de uși. Toate erau încuiate. Nu își putea imagina că Luna are atâtea secrete. În capăt se afla o ușă crăpată. Era aproape deschisă. Înăuntru era un simplu birou cu o scrisoare pe el, un pat și o noptieră. Jack se apropie de masă și când o atinge, literele se șterg. A rămas cu o simplă foaie de hârtie. Pe fereastra minusculă, se vedea un șir de lini aurii pe cer. Mereu le vedea, noaptea. Căpătau diferite forme, cât mai ciudate, parcă le putea schimba. Când se gândea la un ceas, stelele erau legate de aceea fâșie de lumină și se forma un ceasornic. Jack deschise fereastra și atinse pulberea strălucitoare. Odată ce o prinse, Băiatul începea ușor să dispară. Se evaporă în aer. În fumul lumânării de pe noptieră. În parfumul florilor din vază.

Se trezi într-o încăpere neagră precum cerneala fără uși, fără ieșiri. A stat acolo poate o oră poate un an.... până când a auzit o voce fredonând într-un colț. Era o copilă cu ochi albaștri limpezi, cu pielea ei fină ca roua, ca o prințesă din povești.

  -Cine ești ? întrebă Jack.

  -Eu sunt Lily.

Visa in simplitatea izbitoare a ei, în gândurile cerului, în alinările sufletului... Lily visa, dar cine o imagina pe ea? Jack simțea că îl apasă anii, că ar fi trăit mai mult decât o viață, că vedea amintiri adânc ascunse în mintea lui, la fel de adânci precum întunericul în care se afla. Nu era singurul. Lily știa deja, știa mai multe decât el. Poate persoana din fața lui are trupul unei copile, dar are un suflet mult mai bătrân.

-Câte vise ai apucat să trăiești? întreabă acel cineva din fața lui.

Vocea ei era vântul, negura, lumina. Prea adâncă pentru un copil, dar totuși avea un licăr în glas.

-Cum adică? Răspunse băiatul.

-Nu vorbi de parcă nu ai ști! Iar eu credeam că sunt singura...

-Ce e locul ăsta?

- Deci chiar e adevărat? zise ea cu lacrimi sărate.

Tot ce se simțea în acel loc e plânsul lui Lily.

-Și mai am amintiri, care ard, ard de prea mult timp...Tu ai fost ales... Sau mai bine zis tu ai acceptat, exact ca mine.

-Ce să accept? Ce caut eu aici?

-Îți pui întrebarea greșită băiete... Ce e locul astă? Așa arată cerul... Cel puțin eu nu am mai văzut o stea de mult...

-Unde e Luna? Unde sunt acele fâșii de lumină?

-Luna a făcut asta. Eu nu am fost suficient... Sunt un copil de vise. La fel și tu. Noi suntem obligați să trăim visele oamenilor. Tu ești tânăr. Nu ști ce e un vis. Ai noroc.

-De cât timp stai aici ?

Lily râse cu atâta ușurință, parcă nu ar avea nici o pe lume.

-Aici nu există timp! Dacă vorbim despre cum se mișcă orarul pe ceas, a trecut un secol, poate două...

-Dar trebuie să mă întorc! Spuse Jack.

-Nu mai poți... E imposibil... Ai dispărut, lumea a uitat de tine...

-I-Imposibil? Dar nu se poate! Nu ai spus  că suntem din vise? Nu putem să plecăm din gândurile oamenilor?

-Crezi că nu am încercat?! Plânse Lily.

O bufnitură sparge liniștea undeva în acel întuneric infinit...

-Închide ochii! Repede! strigă fata.

-De ce?

Și în întunericul nopții apăru lumina purificatoare a realității care îți arată calea spre viața mai frumoasă în lumea veșnică a viselor.         

                             

Negură. Astă este primul lucru pe care mi-l amintesc. Era întuneric, frig și frica mă cuprindea. Dar apoi... apoi am văzut Luna. Era atât de mare, atât de luminoasă. Părea să alunge durerea departe. Și când a făcut-o... Nu m-am mai speriat. De ce am fost acolo și ce am fost menit să fac, nu am știut niciodată, iar o parte din mine se întreabă dacă voi face vreodată.

Lily era lângă el când s-a trezit din somn. Era întins pe o podea rece, o răcoare pe care o cunoștea. Mai fusese în acest loc, dar acum e schimbat.

-Trezește-te! strigă fata.

Jack se ridică în picioare și văzând chipul lui Lily realiză ce se întâmplă:

-Tu ai mai fost aici...

-Nu cu mult timp în urmă... Cel mai lung vis l-am trăit aici. Aproape am ajuns să cred-...

O tăcere apăsătoare se așeză peste gândurile lor.

-Aproape am ajuns să cred că Luna m-a eliberat! zise fata cu ochii roșii de plâns.

-Aici am deschis eu ochii. Aici Luna mi-a vorbit... răspunse Jack.

Lily se întoarse spre băiat și acesta o lăsă să se odihnească pe umărul lui...

Pe obrajii lor curgeau lacrimi purificatoare, lacrimi de curaj...

-Ști ce doare cel mai tare? Să vezi oameni alături de care ai creat amintiri transformându-se ușor în amintiri... spuse Lily.

Aceștia se duseră ușor lângă patul din încăpere și își închiseră ochii...

Ochii roșii și grei se deschid în fața unei lumini orbitoare. Peisajul în care se află e greu de distins, încețoșat. Jack dispăruse de lângă ea și în partea cealaltă a patului îl putea zării pe Charles cu ochii închiși:

-Charles! Charles! strigă ea.

-L-Lily...? spuse el în timp ce se evaporă în aer. În fumul lumânării de pe noptieră. În parfumul florilor din vază.

În noapte, Jack se întinde în pat. În timp ce admiră Luna, se întreabă dacă vrea să viseze... Iar în acel moment închise ochii...

                     Cel mai bine e să lăsăm istoria să se repete.... Dacă nu uităm să ne trezim...

[pitipoankavoastrapref]

salut!!! așa,mai mult în glumă,aș vrea să vă prezint noua mea ideologie numită 'safirism'. practic,această ideologie se bazează pe :

-feminitate/starea de a fi fată

-machiaj,strugurel

-haine frumoase

-parfumuri și creme

-spa-uri

-etc.

safirismul practic se bazează pe conceptul de a te trata ca o prințesă,să nu te lași influențată de alții,să te bucuri de toate interesele tale și să fi hiperfeminină. e cam exclusiv safirismul,deorece doar fetele feminine pot participa,dar las',fetele💅💅

artistele care se potrivesc safirismului sunt :

- ayesha erotica

- MARINA

-avril lavigne

-erika isac

-chase icon

-etc.

pa!!! vă pup,și nu-mi pasă dacă-i cringe!

[ionutdragu]

Ce filme noi vedem la Cineplexx Băneasa și Titan  din 8 noiembrie

PREMIERELE SĂPTĂMÂNII PRINȚESA REBELĂ MISIUNEA RED ONE LA LIMITA SUPRAVIEȚUIRII  ANORA MEGALOPOLIS CPXX BĂNEASA & TITAN PRINȚESA REBELĂ (AG) GEN: Animaţie DISTRIBUȚIE: Vanessa Johansson, Bella Hudson, Marc Thompson SINOPSIS:  Mina, o tânără prințesă, îndrăznește să rupă tradiția familiei și-l alege pe Ronan să-i fie soț, un băiat studios, care nu respectă nici pe departe criteriile care…