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â„ clint barton masterlist â„ main masterlist
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đđđđąđ§đ đĄđąđŠ đ„đąđ€đ đđĄđąđŹ, đ đđĄđ«đđđ đđš đđĄđ đ°đšđ«đ„đ đ°đđŹ đ đđđźđ§đđąđ§đ đđźđ«đ§ đšđ đđŻđđ§đđŹ. đđ đĄđđ đđđđšđŠđ đĄđąđŹ đ đ«đđđđđŹđ đđ§đđŠđČ, đ đŻđąđ„đ„đđąđ§, đđ§đ đŹđš đĄđ đ°đąđ©đđ đđĄđ đđ„đšđšđ đđ«đšđŠ đĄđąđŹ đđ„đđđ đđŹ đđĄđ đ«đđąđ§ đŹđ©đđđđđ«đđ đđšđ°đ§ đźđ©đšđ§ đĄđąđŹ đ§đđ° đđąđ, đĄđđđ«đąđ§đ đđĄđ đ©đąđđđđ« đ©đđđđđ« đšđ đŠđšđ«đ đđĄđđ§ đŁđźđŹđ đđĄđ đđ«đšđ©đ„đđđŹ đđĄđđ đđđđ đđ đđąđ§đŹđ đđĄđ đŹđđ«đđđ. đđšđ§đąđ§ đđŹ đĄđ đ°đđŹ đđ„đ„đđ đđđ„đČ đ«đđđđ«đ«đđ đđš đšđ§ đđĄđ đđđ§đ đđ«đšđźđŹ đŹđđ«đđđđŹ, đĄđąđŹ đ©đ„đđ đ°đđŹ đ§đšđźđ đĄđ đŠđđ«đđČ, đ§đš đđ«đąđŠđąđ§đđ„ đ°đĄđšđŠ đŹđźđ«đŻđąđŻđđ đđĄđ đđđđđ«đŠđđđĄ đšđ đđĄđ đźđ§đąđŻđđ«đŹđ'đŹ đđ±đđ«đđŻđđ đđ§đ đđźđ„đ„đąđ§đ đ°đđŹ đđ„đ„đšđ°đđ đđĄđ đŹđđđąđŹđđđđđąđšđ§ đšđ đŹđźđ«đŻđąđŻđąđ§đ đąđ§ đđĄđąđŹ đ§đđ° đ°đšđ«đ„đ. đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđŹ đ§đš đŹđđ§đŹđ đąđ§ đąđ, đđ„đ„ đđĄđšđŹđ đđĄđđ đ°đđ«đ đąđ§đ§đšđđđ§đ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đŻđđ§đąđŹđĄđđ đ°đĄđąđ„đŹđ đđĄđ đŹđđźđŠ đ«đđŠđđąđ§đđ đđđ«đ§đąđŹđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđ đđđ«đđĄ đđ§đ đąđđŹ đąđ§đĄđđđąđđđ§đđŹ đđšđ« đŠđšđ§đđČ đđ§đ đ©đšđ°đđ« đšđŻđđ« đđĄđšđŹđ đ„đđŹđŹđđ«, đđ„đđąđŠđąđ§đ đđźđ«đđĄđđ« đđđ«đ«đąđđšđ«đČ đđšđ« đđĄđđ đ°đĄđąđđĄ đ°đđŹ đđđ«đ«đđ§ đšđ đ«đđŹđąđđđ§đđŹ đđ§đ đŠđźđ„đ„đąđ§đ đšđŻđđ« đđĄđđąđ« đŹđđŠđ đšđ„đ đ°đđČđŹ. đđšđđĄđąđ§đ đĄđđ đđĄđđ§đ đđ đđšđ« đđĄđđŠ, đđĄđąđ§đ đŹ đĄđđ đšđ§đ„đČ đ đšđđđđ§ đđđŹđąđđ«, đđ§đ đđĄđ đŠđđ§ đđđ§đđđđĄ đđĄđ đĄđšđšđ đđđŹđ©đąđŹđđ đđĄđđŠ đđšđ« đąđ, đđ§đ đŹđš đĄđ đŹđ°đąđđđ„đČ đ©đźđ§đąđŹđĄđđ đđĄđđŠ đđ§đ đđ«đđđđđ đđĄđđŠ đąđ§đđš đĄđąđŹ đŻđąđđđąđŠđŹ đźđ§đđąđ„ đđĄđđČ đ°đđ«đ đđ„đ„ đ đšđ§đ đđ«đšđŠ đ„đąđđ.
đđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đđĄđźđŠđ©đąđ§đ đšđ đ đĄđđđ«đ đđĄđđ đđźđ§đđ đąđ§đđš đĄđąđŹ đĄđđđ«đąđ§đ đđąđđŹ đđĄđđ đĄđšđšđ€đđ đđđ§đđđđąđŻđđ„đČ đšđ§đđš đĄđąđŹ đđđ«đŹ, đ đ©đđđđđ«đ§ đđĄđđ đđŹđđđđ„đąđŹđĄđđ đ đŠđąđ±đđźđ«đ đšđ đ©đđąđ§ đđ§đ đđđđ«, đđđđ« đšđ đ°đĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đđŻđšđ„đŻđđ đąđ§đđš, đđ§đ đ§đšđ đđš đŠđđ§đđąđšđ§ đđĄđ đŹđĄđšđđ€ đšđ đđąđ§đđ„đ„đČ đŹđđđąđ§đ đĄđąđŠ đđ đđąđ§. đđ đđđ„đ đ„đąđ€đ đđ„đ„ đĄđđ đđđŠđ đđ«đđŹđĄđąđ§đ đđšđ°đ§ đđ đđąđ§ đđ«đšđŠ đđąđ§đđ„đ„đČ đŹđđđąđ§đ đđ„đąđ§đ đđđ«đđšđ§ đđ đđąđ§, đĄđ đĄđđ đđ„đ°đđČđŹ đđđđ§ đČđšđźđ« đ©đ«đąđŠđ đ°đđđ€đ§đđŹđŹ, đđ§đ đ°đąđđĄđšđźđ đĄđąđŹ đđđŠđąđ„đČ đĄđ đĄđđ đ đšđ§đ đšđđđąđđąđđ„đ„đČ đšđđ đđĄđ đ«đđąđ„đŹ, đđ§đ đĄđ đĄđđ đ©đźđŹđĄđđ đČđšđź đđš đđĄđ đŹđąđđ đđŹ đđĄđšđźđ đĄ đČđšđźđ« đŹđđđ«đđ đŠđđđđąđ§đ đŹ đŠđđđ§đ đ§đšđđĄđąđ§đ đđ§đ đĄđąđŹ đ°đąđđ đđ§đ đđĄđąđ„đđ«đđ§ đŠđđđ§đ đđŻđđ«đČđđĄđąđ§đ . đđ đđšđźđ«đŹđ đĄđ đđđ«đđ đđšđ« đđĄđđŠ, đđ§đ đ°đąđđĄ đđĄđđąđ« đ„đšđŹđŹ đđđŠđ đ đđ„đđđ€đ§đđŹđŹ đđĄđđ đđ§đđąđ«đđ„đČ đđ§đđđŹđđ đĄđąđŹ đšđ°đ§ đđđ§đđ«đ, đ„đđđŻđąđ§đ đ§đš đ«đšđšđŠ đđšđ« đĄđąđŠ đđš đđđđ„ đđ§ đąđ§đ€đ„đąđ§đ đšđ đđđšđ«đđđąđšđ§ đđšđ°đđ«đđŹ đČđšđź. đđĄđđ đ°đđŹ đ đźđąđ„đ đđ§đ đ đ©đđ«đđšđ§ đđĄđđ đĄđâđ đĄđđŻđ đđš đđđđ đŹđšđšđ§ đĄđ đ«đđđ„đąđŹđđ đđŹ đĄđ đ«đđđšđ đ§đąđŹđđ đđĄđ đđ«đźđ§đđĄ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đ€đ§đźđđ€đ„đđŹ đđŹ đČđšđź đđđ°đ„đđ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđ§đđŹ đąđ§đđš đ§đđ«đŻđšđźđŹ đđ§đ đđ§đ đ«đČ đđąđŹđđŹ. đđšđź đ«đđđ„đ„đČ đđąđđ§âđ đ°đđ§đ đđš đŹđđ đĄđąđŠ, đđźđ đđĄđ đđđđŠ đ§đđđđđ đĄđąđŠ, đđ§đ đđĄđđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đ©đ«đąđšđ«đąđđČ.
đđ đĄđđ đ°đđđđĄđđ đĄđąđŹ đđ§đđąđ«đ đ°đšđ«đ„đ đđđ„đ„ đđ©đđ«đ đđźđ đĄđ đĄđđđ§âđ đđŻđđ§ đđđ€đ§đšđ°đ„đđđ đđ đ°đĄđđ đ«đđŠđđąđ§đđ, đđ§đ đŹđš đĄđ đđźđ«đ§đđ đ°đąđđĄ đđ«đđ§đŹđŠđąđŹđŹđąđšđ§đŹ đšđ đđđđđđ đ«đđđ€đšđ§đđ đąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đŠđźđ«đđđ«đšđźđŹ đđČđđŹ đđĄđđ đ°đđ«đ đđ„đšđšđđąđđ đ°đąđđĄ đ đđšđ§đđ„đąđđ đšđ đđŠđšđđąđšđ§đŹ, đ©đźđ„đ„đąđ§đ đđĄđ đĄđšđšđ đŹđš đđĄđđ đđĄđ đšđ§đČđ± đŠđđđđ«đąđđ„ đ«đđŹđđđ đźđ©đšđ§ đĄđąđŹ đŹđĄđšđźđ„đđđ«đŹ đ«đđđĄđđ« đđĄđđ§ đđšđ§đđđđ„đąđ§đ đĄđąđŹ đŹđšđŠđđ«đ đđ±đ©đ«đđŹđŹđąđšđ§. đ đđ«đđđđĄ đ„đđđ đĄđąđŹ đ„đąđ©đŹ, đąđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđđ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đ§đđŠđ, đ đđđ«đđąđđąđđđđąđšđ§ đšđ đ°đĄđš đđđ«đ đąđ§đđđ«đ«đźđ©đ đĄđąđŹ đŻđđ§đ đđđźđ„ đŠđąđŹđŹđąđšđ§. âđ/đ§.â đ đŹđĄđąđŻđđ« đšđ đŁđźđŠđđ„đđ đđđŹđąđ«đđŹ đđšđąđ„đđ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđČ, đđźđ đąđ đ°đđŹ đČđšđźđ« đđźđđČ đđš đ«đđŠđđąđ§ đ©đ«đšđđđŹđŹđąđšđ§đđ„; đąđâđ đĄđđŻđ đđđđ§ đŠđźđđĄ đđđŹđąđđ« đąđ đđđđđŹđĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đĄđđŻđ đđšđŠđ đąđ§đŹđđđđ, đšđ« đđ đ„đđđŹđ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđź đĄđšđ°đđŻđđ« đŹđĄđ đ°đđŹ đąđ§ đđąđ đšđ đ©đ«đđ©đđ«đąđ§đ đđĄđ đ«đšđźđđ đąđ§ đ°đĄđąđđĄ đČđšđźâđ đŹđ„đąđ© đđĄđ«đšđźđ đĄ đđąđŠđ đ°đąđđĄ đđĄđ đ«đđŹđ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đ«đđđ«đźđąđđđ đĄđđ§đđŹ. âđđĄđČ đđ«đ đČđšđź đĄđđ«đ?â
đïżœïżœïżœïżœđŹ đŻđšđąđđ đđ«đšđđ€đđ, đđ§đ đČđšđź đđšđźđ„đ đšđ§đ„đČ đ«đđđšđ đ§đąđŹđ đđĄđ đŹđšđźđ§đ đđš đđ đšđ§đ đšđ đ đđ«đšđ€đđ§ đŠđđ§. đđšđźâđ đšđ§đ„đČ đ°đąđŹđĄ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đŹđźđđĄ đđ§ đđđđđđ đšđ§ đĄđąđŠ, đđźđ đČđšđź đ§đđŻđđ« đĄđđ đČđšđźâđ đšđ§đ„đČ đđŻđđ« đđđđ§ đđ§đšđđĄđđ« đđ đđ§đ đđĄđđ đŹđđšđšđ đđ đĄđąđŹ đŹđąđđ đđ§đ đŹđ§đźđđ€ đąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđđ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đ°đđŹ đđđđ„đąđ§đ đ„đšđ§đđ„đČ, đ©đđ«đĄđđ©đŹ đąđ đŹđĄđšđźđ„đ đĄđđŻđ đđđđ§ đČđšđź đđš đĄđđŻđ đđđđđ đąđ§đđš đ©đđ«đđąđđ„đđŹ đšđ đŠđČđŹđđąđđąđđ đđźđŹđ đ«đđđĄđđ« đđĄđđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđđŠđąđ„đČ. đđ đĄđđ đŹđšđŠđđđĄđąđ§đ , đđ§đ đđđđđźđŹđ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đšđđ„đąđ đđđąđšđ§đŹ đđš đĄđąđŠ đČđšđź đđ„đ„đšđ°đđ đČđšđźđ«đŹđđ„đ đ§đšđđĄđąđ§đ , đ§đšđ đđŻđđ§ đđšđ§đđąđđđ§đđ đđŹ đČđšđź đđđđđ đĄđąđŠ, đČđšđźđ« đđČđđŹ đŹđđźđ§đ đ°đąđđĄ đđđąđđąđ đđđđ«đŹ đđŹ đĄđąđŹ đđ±đ©đ«đđŹđŹđąđšđ§ đ°đđŹ đŹđđ«đđđđĄđđ đąđ§đđš đČđšđźđ« đ©đđ«đąđ©đĄđđ«đđ„. đđąđđ đ°đđŹđ§âđ đ€đąđ§đ đąđ§ đđĄđ đŹđ„đąđ đĄđđđŹđ, đąđ đĄđđ đđšđŹđŹđđ đČđšđź đđ„đ„ đđđšđźđ đđĄđ đ©đ„đđđ đšđ§đ„đČ đđšđ« đČđšđź đđš đđ§đ đźđ© đđ„đšđ§đ đđ„đ„ đšđŻđđ« đđ đđąđ§. âđđ đđđ§ đđ«đąđ§đ đđĄđđŠ đđđđ€ đđ„đąđ§đ - đ°đ đđđ§ đđ«đąđ§đ đđĄđđŠ đđ„đ„ đđđđ€.â đđ đĄđźđ«đ đđš đđ«đąđ§đ đĄđąđŠ đĄđšđ©đ đšđ đđđąđ§đ đźđ§đąđđđ đ°đąđđĄ đĄđąđŹ đđđŠđąđ„đČ, đđźđ đąđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đ«đąđ đĄđ đđĄđąđ§đ đđš đđš đđ§đ đđĄđ đšđ«đđđ«đŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đ đąđŻđđ§.
đđšđ©đ, đąđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đšđ§đ„đČ đđĄđąđ§đ đ€đđđ©đąđ§đ đđŻđđ«đČđšđ§đ đ đšđąđ§đ , đđ§đ đČđšđźđ«đŹ đ°đđŹ đ«đźđ§đ§đąđ§đ đšđźđ. đđ đ§đđđđđ đŠđšđ«đ đđźđđ„, đđźđ đđĄđ đđ„đšđŹđđ« đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ đšđ đđš đđđąđ§đ đ đĄđđ«đš đđ đđąđ§, đđĄđ đŠđšđ«đ đđ«đđąđ§đđ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đđđ„đ đđ«đšđŠ đđ„đ„ đđĄđ đđĄđąđ§đ đŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đŹđźđđđźđŠđđđ đđš. âđđšđ§âđ đ đąđŻđ đŠđ đĄđšđ©đ.â đđ đ°đđŹ đ đ°đđđ€ đ©đ„đđđ, đĄđ đ°đđŹ đđšđ§đ đ°đąđđĄ đđąđ đĄđđąđ§đ đđšđ« đđĄđšđŹđ đđĄđđ đĄđ đ„đšđŻđđ đđđđđźđŹđ đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđ«đ đ§đšđ§đ đšđ đđĄđđŠ đ„đđđ, đđ§đ đąđ đšđ§đ„đČ đ„đđđ đ đŹđšđźđ« đ«đđŠđąđ§đđđ« đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đ§đđŻđđ« đĄđđ đŹđźđđĄ đđ§ đđđđđđđąđšđ§ đđšđ« đČđšđź, đąđ đđđ„đ đ„đąđ€đ đđ§ đšđ©đđ§ đ°đšđźđ§đ đ°đĄđđ«đ đđ„đ„ đđĄđ đ©đđŹđ đđŠđšđđąđšđ§đŹ đđ„đđ đšđźđ đđ«đšđŠ đĄđąđŹ đŹđąđ„đđ§đ đđđŠđąđŹđŹđąđšđ§. đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđŹ đ§đš đ§đđđđŹđŹđąđđČ đđšđ« đĄđąđŠ đđš đŹđđČ đđ§đČđđĄđąđ§đ đźđ§đđđ« đđĄđđ đ«đđ đđ«đ, đĄđ đ€đ§đđ° đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ€đ§đđ° đđ§đ đĄđđ đđ„đ„ đđ„đšđ§đ , đđ§đ đĄđ đ«đđŠđđąđ§đđ đŹđđ«đąđ€đąđ§đ đČđšđź đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đđĄđ đđ«đąđđ§đđłđšđ§đ đđČ đđšđ§đđąđ§đźđąđ§đ đ§đšđ đđš đđ«đąđ§đ đąđ đźđ©, đđĄđ đ„đđŹđ đđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ§đđđđđ đ°đđŹ đđšđ« đĄđąđŠ đđš đ«đđŁđđđ đČđšđź, đđŹ đđĄđđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đđđźđ§đđąđ§đ đ«đđđ„đąđđČ đđĄđđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đ©đ«đšđđđđ đąđ đĄđ đĄđđ. đđšđŠđ đđĄđąđ§đ đŹ đ°đđ«đ đŁđźđŹđ đđđđđđ« đ„đđđ đźđ§đŹđđąđ, đđźđ đČđšđź đđšđźđ„đđ§'đ đŹđđđ§đ đđš đđ§đŹđ°đđ« đĄđąđŠ đ°đąđđĄ đŹđąđ„đđ§đđ đąđ§ đđĄđ đ©đ«đđŹđđ§đđ, đąđ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đČđšđź đđĄđđ đ§đđđđđ đđ§đ đđ«đđŻđđ đĄđąđŹ đŹđ€đąđ„đ„đŹ, đąđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đđđđŠ đđ§đ đĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đ§đđŻđđ« đ„đđ đđĄđđŠ đđšđ°đ§, đ§đšđ đđšđ« đđ„đ„ đđĄđđ đđĄđđČ đĄđđ đđšđ§đ đđšđ« đĄđąđŠ.
đđšđź đ°đđ«đđ§âđ đŹđźđ«đ đąđ đđ„đąđ§đ đ°đđŹ đ đđ§đđ«đđ„đ„đČ đŹđ©đđđ€đąđ§đ đšđ« đ©đđŹđŹđąđ§đ đđĄđ đđ„đđŠđ đđđđđźđŹđ đąđ đ°đđŹ đČđšđź, đĄđšđ°đđŻđđ« đđąđđĄđđ« đ°đđČ đđĄđ đđđđŠ đ§đđđđđ đĄđąđŠ, đđ§đ đ°đĄđąđ„đŹđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đđ§âđ đŹđš đđđđŠđđ§đ đđš đđđŠđąđ đąđ, đŹđš đđąđ đČđšđź. âđđĄđąđŹ đąđŹ đąđ.â đđšđź đŹđđđđđ. âđđ§đ đĄđšđ©đ đŠđąđ đĄđ đđ đđ„đ„ đđĄđđ đ°đ đĄđđŻđ đđđ«đđšđ§ đŹđš đČđšđź đđđđđđ« đŹđźđđ€ đąđ đźđ© đđđđđźđŹđ đ đđŠ đŹđźđ«đ đđŹ đĄđđ„đ„ đ§đšđ đ đšđąđ§đ đđđđ€ đđš đđ„đ„ đđĄđđ đŹđźđ©đđ«đĄđđ«đš đŹđĄđąđ đđ„đšđ§đ, đČđšđź đĄđđđ« đŠđ?" đđ«đđŠđšđ«đŹ đšđ đ đźđąđ„đ đđšđ§đđšđ«đđđ đđĄđ đđąđ§đđ„đČ đđ đđ đŠđźđŹđđ„đđŹ đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđđđ đđŹ đĄđ đđąđ§đđ„đ„đČ đđšđźđ§đ đđĄđ đŹđđ«đđ§đ đđĄ đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đĄđąđŠđŹđđ„đ đđš đđźđ„đ„đČ đđđđ đČđšđź đđ§đ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đđąđ đąđ đ°đđŹ đ đŹđđđ đđš đđĄđ đ đźđ, đĄđ đ«đđŠđđŠđđđ«đđ đđš đ°đĄđđ§ đđĄđ đđ°đš đšđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đđ«đąđđ§đđŹ, đđđđšđ«đ đđĄđąđ§đ đŹ đĄđđ đ đšđđđđ§ đđšđŠđ©đ„đąđđđđđ đđđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđ đ§đźđ«đđźđ«đąđ§đ đđđđ€ đšđ đđđźđ«đ; đČđšđź đĄđđ đđ§đŁđšđČđđ đšđ§đ đđ§đšđđĄđđ«'đŹ đđšđŠđ©đđ§đČ, đ§đđąđđĄđđ« đšđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đŹđźđ©đđ«, đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đŁđźđŹđ đ©đđšđ©đ„đ đ°đąđđĄ đ§đš đ©đšđ°đđ«đŹ đđ«đČđąđ§đ đđš đđš đđĄđđąđ« đđđŹđ đđš đ©đ«đšđđđđ đđĄđ đŻđźđ„đ§đđ«đđđ„đ đ©đ„đđ§đđ đđ«đšđŠ đ„đđđĄđđ„ đđđđđđ€đŹ đđ«đšđŠ đšđđ đ°đšđ«đ„đ. đđšđź'đ đ„đđźđ đĄ đđ đđĄđ đŁđšđ€đđŹ đČđšđź'đ đđ«đđđ€ đđ đđđđŻđ'đŹ đšđđ„đąđŻđąđšđźđŹ đđ±đ©đđ§đŹđ đđ§đ đ§đđŻđđ« đĄđđ đČđšđź đąđŠđđ đąđ§đđ đđĄđđ đđĄđ đ.đ.đ.đ.đ.đ đđ đđ§đ đźđ§đđđ« đđĄđ đđšđđđ§đđŠđ đđđ°đ€đđČđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđ«đđđ€ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ«đ, đđźđ đđĄđđ đ°đđŹ đđ„đ„ đ©đ«đąđšđ« đđš đšđ§đ đ§đąđ đĄđ đȘđźđąđđ đ„đąđ€đ đđĄđąđŹ đšđ§đ, đđĄđ đđ„đšđšđđČ đđđąđ„ đšđ đ đŠđąđŹđŹđąđšđ§ đ°đĄđđ§ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đŹđšđđ€đđ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đ«đđąđ§, đđ§đ đđđđšđ«đ đČđšđź đ«đđđ„đąđŹđđ đČđšđź đđšđźđ„đđ§'đ đ©đ«đČ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđ§đđŹ đšđđ đđ«đšđŠ đšđ§đ đđ§đšđđĄđđ«.
"đ/đ§âŠ" đđšđź đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đŹđĄđČ đđ°đđČ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đ©đđąđ§ đđĄđđ đ„đąđ§đ đđ«đđ đąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đŻđšđąđđ, đđĄđ đ«đđ đ«đđ đđĄđđ đ°đđŹ đąđ§đđđ«đ„đđđđ đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđšđ§đ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đđ«đđźđŠđ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đ„đđąđ đźđ©đšđ§ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ«đ, đĄđ đ đđ§đđ„đČ đđšđźđŹđ„đđ đđĄđ đŠđđđđ«đąđđ„ đ°đĄđąđđĄ đŹđĄđąđđ„đđđ đĄđąđŹ đĄđđđ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đ©đ«đđŹđđąđ đąđšđźđŹ đ«đđąđ§ đđ«đšđŠ đĄđąđŹ đĄđđđ, đąđ đ„đđąđ đđšđ„đ„đđđđąđ§đ đ°đđđđ« đđŹ đđąđ đĄđąđŹ đ đ„đđŹđŹđČ đđČđđŹ. đđ đ°đđŹ đđ°đđ«đ đđĄđđ đđ„đšđ§đ đđĄđ đđšđźđ«đŹđ đšđ đđĄđ đđŻđđ§đđđźđ„ đČđđđ«đŹ đđĄđđ đĄđđ đ©đđŹđŹđđ, đđŻđđ§ đąđ§đđ„đźđđąđ§đ đđĄđ đ„đđŹđ đđąđŻđ, đĄđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đšđ§đ đđš đĄđđŻđ đđ«đšđ€đđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđđ§đđđ« đĄđđđ«đ. đđ§đđ đĄđâđ đ©đ«đšđŠđąđŹđđ đđĄđđ đĄđâđ đĄđźđ«đ đđ§đČđšđ§đ đđĄđđ đđąđ, đđ§đ đŁđźđŹđ đ„đšđšđ€đąđ§đ đđ đČđšđź đ©đ«đđđđąđđđ„đ„đČ đđđ„đ đđŹ đđĄđšđźđ đĄ đ đŹđđđ€đ đ°đđŹ đđđąđ§đ đąđŠđđđđđđ đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđĄđđŹđ, đĄđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đŠđšđ§đŹđđđ« đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đšđ§đđ đđđđ§ đ«đđđđČ đđš đĄđđ«đŠ, đĄđ đ°đđŹ đ đ„đąđđđ«đđ„ đ€đąđ„đ„đđ« đđ§đ đđ§ đźđ§đđđ€đ§đšđ°đ§đŹđ đŠđđ«đđČđ« đđ„đ„ đđ đšđ§đ đđąđŠđ. âđ đ°đąđŹđĄ đ đđšđźđ„đ đ đš đđđđ€ đąđ§ đđąđŠđ đđ§đ đđ«đđŹđ đđ„đ„ đđĄđ đŠđąđŹđđđ€đđŹ đđĄđđ đ°đ- đđĄđđ đ đŠđđđ. đ đ§đđŻđđ« đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đđ đđĄđ đŹđšđźđ«đđ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đŹđźđđđđ«đąđ§đ , đąđ đ đđšđźđ„đ đâđ đđĄđđ§đ đ đąđ đđ„đ„.â đđ đ°đđŹ đŹđąđ„đ„đČ đ°đąđđĄ đĄđąđŠ đŹđđČđąđ§đ đđ„đ„ đđĄđđ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đđąđđ§âđ đ€đ§đšđ° đđĄđ đ°đđ„đ„ đ«đšđźđ§đđđ đ©đ„đđ§ đđĄđđ đđđšđđ đĄđđ đđąđ«đŹđ đ©đ«đšđŠđ©đđđ, đđ§đ đđĄđ đšđ§đ đđĄđđ đđšđ§đČ đđ„đđŻđđđđ đđš đđ§đšđđĄđđ« đŠđšđ«đ đ«đđđ„đąđŹđđąđ đ„đđŻđđ„.
âđđđ„đ„ đđĄđđâđŹ đ°đĄđđ đ°đâđ«đ đđšđąđ§đ đđđ«đđšđ§, đ«đđđ«đąđđŻđąđ§đ đđĄđ đŹđđšđ§đđŹ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đ©đđŹđ đŹđš đđĄđđ đ°đ đđđ§ đđ«đąđ§đ đđđđĄ đŹđšđźđ„ đđĄđđ đđ«đąđđđđ đšđźđ đđ«đšđŠ đŹđ©đđđ đđ§đ đđąđŠđ đđđđ€ đđš đđ±đąđŹđđđ§đđ, đđ§đ đđĄđđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đąđ§đđ„đźđđ đČđšđźđ« đđđŠđąđ„đČ. đđąđŠđ đđ«đđŻđđ„; đĄđšđ°đđŻđđ« đđąđ±đąđ§đ đđĄđ đđĄđąđ§đ đŹ đđĄđđ đĄđđ©đ©đđ§đđ đđđđ°đđđ§ đźđŹ đąđŹđ§âđ đđ«đźđđąđđ„ đđš đđĄđ đ©đ„đđ§ đŹđš đđĄđđ«đâđŹ đ§đš đ©đšđąđ§đ đ°đđŹđđąđ§đ đđ§đČ đđČđŠ đđđ«đđąđđ„đđŹ, đđšđ§âđ đđŹđ€ đđđšđźđ đđĄđšđŹđ, đđ°đđ„đ„đąđ§đ đšđ§ đ°đĄđđ đ°đ đđšđźđ„đ đĄđđŻđ đđšđ§đ đđąđđđđ«đđ§đđ„đČ đđđđ€ đđĄđđ§. đđĄđ đ©đ„đđ§ đąđŹ đđš đđ«đąđ§đ đđŻđđ«đČđšđ§đ đđđđ€ đđš đđĄđ đŠđšđŠđđ§đ đđš đ°đĄđđ§ đđĄđđČ đ°đđ«đ đđźđŹđđđ đ°đąđđĄđšđźđ đđĄđđ§đ đąđ§đ đđ§đČđđĄđąđ§đ đąđ§ đđĄđ đ©đ«đđŹđđ§đ - đđĄđđâđŹ đ°đĄđČ ïżœïżœïżœâđŠ đĄđđ«đ, đ§đšđ đđš đđ đČđšđźđ« đđđđŠđŠđđđ đšđ« đđ§đČđđĄđąđ§đ đđ„đŹđ đđ đđąđ§ đđźđ đđš đ«đđđ«đźđąđ đČđšđź đđšđ« đđĄđąđŹ đšđ§đ đ„đđŹđ đŠđąđŹđŹđąđšđ§ đđĄđđ đâđŠ đŹđđđđąđ§đ đšđźđ đšđ§. đđâđŹ đČđšđźđ« đđĄđšđąđđ đ°đĄđđđĄđđ« đđš đđšđ§đđąđ§đźđ đŠđđŹđŹđđđ«đąđ§đ đđ„đ„ đđĄđ đŹđđ«đđđ đ đđ§đ đŹ đđĄđđ đ°đąđ„đ„ đđšđŠđ đđđđ€ đđš đĄđđźđ§đ đČđšđź đŹđšđŠđđ°đĄđđ«đ đđšđ°đ§ đđĄđ đ„đąđ§đ, đšđ« đ đđ đ°đĄđđ đČđšđź đ„đšđŹđ đđ«đšđŠ đđšđąđ§đ đđĄđ đ«đąđ đĄđ đđĄđąđ§đ .â đđ đ°đđŹ đđŹ đđĄđšđźđ đĄ đđđđĄ đŹđČđ„đ„đđđ„đ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đŹđ©đšđ€đ đ°đąđđĄ đĄđąđŠ đ°đđŹ đđŠđąđđŹđ đČđšđź đĄđđŻđąđ§đ đđš đđąđđ đČđšđźđ« đđšđ§đ đźđ đđ«đšđŠ đŹđ§đđ©đ©đąđ§đ đđ đĄđąđŠ.
đđšđź đđšđźđ„đ đŹđđ đđĄđ đđđŹđđ«đźđđđąđšđ§ đšđ đ°đĄđąđđĄ đĄđ đĄđđ đđđźđŹđđ, đđĄđšđđđČ đđ§đ đđđđđŹđĄđ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đŠđšđ§đąđđšđ«đąđ§đ đąđ; đĄđâđ đ đšđ§đ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đđĄđ đ°đšđ«đ„đ đŹđ„đąđđđąđ§đ đŻđđ«đąđšđźđŹ đŠđđđąđ đđšđŹđŹâ đŹđ„đąđđ€ đđĄđ«đšđđđŹ, đšđ§đ„đČ đđš đŠđšđŻđ đšđ§đđš đđ§đšđđĄđđ« đđąđđČ đđš đ«đđ©đđđ đĄđąđŹ đŹđ„đđźđ đĄđđđ«đąđ§đ . đđĄđ đŻđđ«đąđšđźđŹ đŹđźđ©đ©đ„đđŠđđ§đđŹ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đ°đšđ«đđŹ đĄđđ đđźđ«đ§đđ đŹđšđŠđ đ€đąđ§đ đšđ đ đđđ« đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đđĄđ đŹđđ«đđđđ đąđ đđ«đđĄđđ«, đ«đšđ„đ„đąđ§đ đĄđąđŹ đ€đ§đšđ°đ„đđđ đđđđ„đ đđ«đđąđ§ đđš đđĄđąđ§đ€ đŠđđđĄđšđđąđđđ„đ„đČ đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đđĄđ đŹđąđđźđđđąđšđ§ đšđ đČđšđź đđ«đ«đąđŻđąđ§đ đđš đđąđ§đ đĄđąđŠ đđšđ« đđĄđ đ§đđ°đđšđźđ§đ đŠđąđŹđŹđąđšđ§. đđ„đ„ đšđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đŠđšđđąđŻđđđđ đđš đđšđ§đđąđ§đźđ đšđ§ đđĄđ đđšđźđ«đŹđ đšđ đđ«đđŻđđ„đ„đąđ§đ đđĄđ«đšđźđ đĄ đđąđŠđ đđš đđ«đąđ§đ đđ„đ„ đđđđ€, đ đ©đšđ«đđąđšđ§ đ°đđŹ đ đŹđđ„đđąđŹđĄ đ§đđđ đđš đđąđ§đ đđĄđ đ„đšđŻđđ đšđ§đđŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đ„đšđŹđ, đđźđ đđĄđ đ©đđ«đŹđšđ§ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ„đšđŻđđ đđšđ« đ§đš đ đšđšđ đ«đđđŹđšđ§ đ°đđŹ đŹđđšđšđ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđź đąđ§ đđĄđ đ«đđąđ§ đđĄđđ đŹđšđđ€đđ đđĄđ đ đ«đšđźđ§đ đđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđ„đšđđĄđđŹ đđšđ« đđ«đđŠđđđąđ đđđđđđ, đđ§đ đŹđšđ«đđ„đČ đĄđ đđąđ đ§đšđ đ«đđđźđ«đ§ đđĄđđ đŹđąđ đ§đąđđąđđđ§đ đđŠđšđđąđšđ§. đđ đĄđđ đ đ°đąđđ đđ§đ đđĄđ«đđ đđĄđąđ„đđ«đđ§ đšđ đ°đĄđšđŠ đ°đđ«đ đĄđąđŹ đŹđšđ„đ đ©đ«đąđšđ«đąđđČ, đđ±đđđ©đ đđ đ đđąđŠđ đĄđ đĄđđđ§'đ đđĄđšđźđ đĄđ đđđšđźđ đđ§đČ đšđ đđĄđđŠ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đĄđđ đ«đđŹđđ„đđŹđŹđ„đČ đđđ«đđŹđŹđđ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđČ đ°đąđđĄ đšđ©đđąđŠđđ„ đąđ§đđđ đ«đąđđČ, đ đđąđ«đ đĄđđ đŹđ©đ«đđđ đđđđ°đđđ§ đđĄđ đđšđđĄ đšđ đČđšđź đąđ đ§đąđđąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đąđ§đŹđąđđđŹ đđš đđšđ„đ„đąđđ đ°đąđđĄ đ©đđŹđŹđąđŻđ đŹđ©đđ«đ€đŹ đ°đĄđąđđĄ đšđ§đ„đČ đČđšđź đĄđđ đđđ„đ.
đ đšđ§đ đŹđąđđđ đđđđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đđŠđšđđąđšđ§đđ„ đŹđąđđ đšđ đđĄđ đ„đźđŹđđđźđ„ đąđ§đđđ«đđđđąđšđ§, đđ„đđĄđšđźđ đĄ đđ„đąđ§đ đĄđđ đ§đš đ©đ«đšđđ„đđŠ đ°đąđđĄ đđąđ§đąđŹđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđ đđ„đąđŠđđđđąđ đđ«đđđąđđđđąđšđ§ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đ©đ„đđđšđ§đąđ đđ«đąđđ§đđŹđĄđąđ©, đĄđ đđđ§đđđąđđđ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đđ±đđĄđđ§đ đ đ°đĄđąđ„đŹđ đČđšđź đđšđ§đđąđ§đźđđ đđš đ©đšđ§đđđ« đđ§đ đĄđđŻđ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ«đ đđđđđąđ§đ đ§đđ«đŻđšđźđŹđ„đČ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đĄđąđŠ. đđđđđ«đ°đđ«đđŹ đČđšđź đĄđđ đđđ„đ đ„đąđ€đ đ đ„đšđŻđđŹđąđđ€ đđđđ§đđ đđ« đŠđšđ©đąđ§đ đđđšđźđ đđšđ« đŹđšđŠđ đđšđČ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đđšđźđ„đ đ§đđŻđđ« đĄđđŻđ đđ§đ đ°đĄđąđ„đŹđ đđĄđđ đ°đđŹ đđĄđ đđ«đźđđĄ, đČđšđź đĄđđ đ«đđđ„đąđŹđđ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đ§đđŻđđ« đŹđźđ©đ©đšđŹđđ đđš đĄđđŻđ đĄđąđŠ. đđ„đąđ§đ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đČđšđźđ«đŹ đđ§đ đđŻđđ§ đąđ đĄđ đ°đđ«đ đđš đđ đČđšđź đđšđźđ„đ đ§đđŻđđ« đđ«đźđŹđ đĄđąđŠ đđš đ§đđŻđđ« đ«đđ©đđđ đĄđąđŹ đ©đ«đđŻđąđšđźđŹ đđđđąđšđ§đŹ đšđ đ°đĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đđšđŠđŠđąđđđđ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđź, đČđšđź đŹđĄđšđźđ„đ đĄđđŻđ đ§đđŻđđ« đđđŻđđ đđš đđ đđĄđ đŹđđđ«đđ đĄđšđŠđđ°đ«đđđ€đđ« đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đđđđšđŠđ, đđ§đ đŹđš đČđšđź đŹđĄđšđźđ„đ đ§đšđ đĄđđŻđ đ°đđ§đđđ đĄđąđŠ. đđ đ đźđ„đ©đđ đđđđđ« đČđšđźđ« đŻđđ«đđąđđ, đđ„đ„đšđ°đąđ§đ đĄđąđŠđŹđđ„đ đđš đđđ„đđ§đđ đĄđąđŹ đŻđąđ đąđ„ đ°đđąđ đĄđ đđđđ°đđđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđ°đš đđđđ đđŹ đĄđ đđšđ§đđđŠđ§đđ đĄđąđŹ đŠđąđ§đ đđš đđĄđšđšđŹđ đĄđąđŹ đđąđ«đđđđąđšđ§ đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đđĄđ đšđ©đđąđšđ§đŹ đđĄđđ đĄđ đ°đđŹ đđđ§đđŻđšđ„đđ§đđ„đČ đ đąđŻđđ§; đĄđ đđšđźđ„đ đđ„đđ đ„đąđ€đ đ đĄđšđŠđąđđąđđđ„ đđšđ°đđ«đ, đ«đźđ§đ§đąđ§đ đšđđ đđš đđšđ§đđąđ§đźđ đđđŹđđšđ°đąđ§đ đ đ«đđđ đđđđđĄ đźđ©đšđ§ đđĄđšđŹđ đ°đĄđšđŠ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đ«đđ§đđšđŠđ„đČ đŠđšđ«đ đđšđ«đđźđ§đđđ đđĄđđ§ đšđđĄđđ«đŹ, đšđ« đĄđ đđšđźđ„đ đ«đđđźđ«đ§ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđź đ„đąđ€đ đ đŹđĄđđđšđ° đšđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđšđđŹ, đđđąđ§đ đ«đ-đ«đđđ«đźđąđđđ đđšđ« đđĄđ đđŻđđ§đ đąđ§đ đšđ đđĄđ đđđ§đđźđ«đČ đšđ đ°đĄđąđđĄ đ đđŻđ đĄđąđŠ đŠđźđđĄ đđš đ đđąđ§.
đđ đ„đđđ đ„đąđđđ„đ đđš đȘđźđđŹđđąđšđ§, đšđ§đ„đČ đĄđąđŹ đ©đ«đąđđ đđ§đ đ«đđđČđđ„đąđ§đ đđ„đ„ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đŹđđ«đąđŻđđ đđšđ« đąđ§ đđĄđ đ„đđŹđ đĄđđ„đ đ đđđđđđ đšđźđ đšđ đŹđ©đąđđ đđ§đ đđ§đ đđ« đđŹ đĄđ đĄđđ đĄđđ đ§đš đąđđđ đĄđšđ° đđš đđđđ„ đđŹ đĄđ đđźđ«đ§đđ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đđ§đ đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđ«đ đšđ§đ„đČ đ©đąđ„đđŹ đšđ đŠđđ«đ đđźđŹđ đ«đđŠđđąđ§đąđ§đ đ°đĄđđ«đ đđĄđ đŠđđŠđđđ«đŹ đšđ đđĄđ đđđŠđąđ„đČ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đđ«đđđđđ đĄđđ đđđđ§. đđĄđ đđđČ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đšđ§đ đšđ đŁđšđČ đđ§đ đźđ§đąđšđ§ đšđ§ đđĄđ đđđ«đŠ đĄđšđ°đđŻđđ« đđČ đđĄđ đđ§đ đšđ đąđ đđŻđđ«đČđđĄđąđ§đ đ°đđŹ đ„đšđŹđ đđ±đđđ©đ đĄđąđŠ, đšđ« đ©đĄđČđŹđąđđđ„đ„đČ đŹđš đđ đ„đđđŹđ; đđđ«đđšđ§ đ°đđŹ đđ«đđđđźđ«đđ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đąđ§đŹđąđđ đšđźđ, đđŻđđ§ đĄđąđŹ đđĄđąđ„đđ«đđ§ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đđąđ±đđđđ đąđ§đđš đ§đšđđĄđąđ§đ đŠđšđ«đ đđĄđđ§ đŹđŠđąđđĄđđ«đđđ§đŹ! đđ§đ đ°đšđ«đŹđ đšđ đđ„đ„ đđĄđđČ đĄđđ đ„đąđŻđđ đ°đąđđĄ đđĄđ đ„đąđ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đ đ„đšđČđđ„ đĄđźđŹđđđ§đ đđš đđĄđđąđ« đŠđšđđĄđđ« đđđźđ«đ đ°đĄđđ§ đĄđ đ°đđ§đ đđ°đđČ đđšđ« đđšđ©đąđšđźđŹ đđŠđšđźđ§đđŹ đšđ đđąđŠđ đđšđ« đŠđąđŹđŹđąđšđ§đŹ đđđđšđ«đ đĄđ đĄđđ đŹđđ«đąđđđ„đČ đđĄđšđŹđđ§ đđš đ«đđđąđ«đ. đđĄđ đĄđđ đđ§ đąđ§đ€đ„đąđ§đ đšđ đ đđđđ„đąđ§đ đđ„đ„ đđ„đšđ§đ đđ„đąđ§đ đĄđđ đ«đđđ„đąđŹđđ, đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đŠđźđđĄ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đđšđźđ„đ đĄđąđđ đđ«đšđŠ đ đ.đ.đ.đ.đ.đ đđ đđ§đ. đđ§đ đąđ đ°đđŹ đŹđźđŹđ©đąđđąđšđźđŹ đđš đđ§đČđđšđđČ đ°đĄđČ đđđ°đ€đđČđ đđ§đ đČđšđź đ°đđđŻđđ đąđ§ đŹđšđđąđđ„ đ©đ«đšđ±đąđŠđąđđČ, đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đ đđđđ€đ đ«đšđźđ§đ đđ±đđźđŹđąđ§đ đ°đĄđČ đđĄđđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đ§đđŻđđ« đĄđđ©đ©đđ§ đ„đąđ€đ đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđŹ đ°đąđđĄ đĄđąđŠ đđ§đ đđđđđŹđĄđ, đĄđ đĄđđ đŹđđŻđđ đĄđđ« đđ«đšđŠ đđđąđ§đ đđĄđ đ€đąđ„đ„đđ« đđĄđđ đĄđđ« đźđ©đđ«đąđ§đ đąđ§đ đŹđźđ©đ©đšđŹđđ đĄđđ« đđš đđ, đąđ đ°đđŹ đŁđźđŹđ đŁđšđąđ§đąđ§đ đđĄđ đđŻđđ§đ đđ«đŹ đđĄđđ đđđ«đđđ đđĄđ đđđ đąđ§đ§đąđ§đ đđ§đ đđ§đ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đđ«đąđđ§đđŹđĄđąđ©.
đđ§đ đ§đšđ° đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđ«đ đ§đš đŠđšđ«đ đđŻđđ§đ đđ«đŹ, đšđ« đđ đ„đđđŹđ đąđ§ đČđšđźđ« đ„đąđđ đźđ§đđąđ„ đČđšđź đ đšđ đ«đšđ©đđ đđđđ€ đąđ§đđš đđđđšđŠđąđ§đ đ đđđ«đđąđđąđđ đđąđŠđ đđ«đđŻđđ„đ„đđ«, đđ§đ đ°đĄđđ đĄđđ đđ«đđ°đ§ đČđšđź đđš đŹđźđđĄ đ đŹđđđ§đđđ«đ đ°đđŹ đ«đđŠđđŠđđđ«đąđ§đ đđ„đ„ đđĄđšđŹđ đđĄđđ đ°đđ«đ đđąđŹđ©đđ«đŹđđ đšđźđ đšđ đđ±đąđŹđđđ§đđ đđ§đ đđĄđ đđąđ đĄđ đđĄđđČ đĄđđ đđ§đđźđ«đđ đđđđšđ«đ đđĄđ đŹđđšđ§đđŹ đđ§đ đđĄđđ§đšđŹ đđ«đđŹđđ đđĄđđŠ. đđĄđđČ đ°đđ«đ đČđšđźđ« đđ«đąđđ§đđŹ đđ§đ đđšđ„đ„đđđ đźđđŹ đđŹ đđ„đąđ§đ đđđ«đđšđ§ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đđđđšđ«đ đđĄđ đ©đđąđ« đšđ đČđšđź đ«đ-đđŻđđ„đźđđđđ đđĄđđ đ°đąđđĄ đđĄđ đđ„đąđ§đđŹđąđ đĄđ đđĄđđ đ°đđŹ đąđ§đđđ«đđšđźđ«đŹđ, đđ§đ đŹđšđŠđ đšđ đđĄđ đšđđĄđđ« đŠđđŠđđđ«đŹ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đđšđšđ©đđ đźđ© đąđ§ đđĄđ đđšđŠđ©đšđźđ§đ đ°đąđđĄ đ§đš đđšđźđđ đĄđđ đđĄđđąđ« đđšđ§đđ„đźđŹđąđŻđ đŹđźđŹđ©đąđđąđšđ§đŹ đđĄđđ đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđŹ đđ§ đąđ§đđđ«đđđđąđŻđ đđ±đ©đđ«đąđđ§đđ đšđ đąđ§đđąđŠđđđČ đšđ§đ đšđąđ§đ đđđđ°đđđ§ đđĄđ đ©đđąđ« đšđ đČđšđź, đđ§đ đ°đĄđąđ„đŹđ đđĄđ đđ°đš đšđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đ§đđŻđđ« đđđ„đ„đđ đšđźđ đšđ§ đđĄđ đźđ§đđđ«đđšđŻđđ« đŹđđđ§đđđ„ đđĄđđąđ« đŁđźđđ đđŠđđ§đ đđšđźđ„đ đđ đđđ„đ đ©đąđđ«đđąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đŹđ€đąđ§ đ°đąđđĄ đđŻđđ«ïżœïżœ đŹđđđ«đ đđ§đ đ°đĄđąđŹđ©đđ«. đđ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đđ„đąđ§đ'đŹ đ©đ«đąđšđ«đąđđČ đđš đ đš đđđđ€ đđš đđĄđšđŹđ đđđČđŹ đšđ đđ„đŹđš đŹđđ§đŹđąđ§đ đđĄđšđŹđ đđđźđđąđšđ§ đŹđąđ đ§đŹ đšđ đ đźđąđ„đ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đđĄđ đ©đđšđ©đ„đ đĄđ đŹđđŻđđ đđĄđ đ°đšđ«đ„đ đ°đąđđĄ, đđźđ đąđ đđđ„đ đđŹ đđĄđšđźđ đĄ đąđ đ°đđŹ đĄđąđŹ đšđ§đ„đČ đđĄđđ§đđ đšđ đ«đđŹđđźđąđ§đ đĄđąđŹ đ„đšđŻđđ đšđ§đđŹ, đđ§đ đđš đđš đŹđš đĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđ„đŹđš đĄđđŻđ đđš đŁđšđźđ«đ§đđČ đđš đđĄđ đźđ§đ€đ§đšđ°đ§ đ°đąđđĄ đŹđšđŠđđđšđđČ đđĄđđ đĄđ đđąđđ§'đ đ„đšđŻđ -đČđšđź. đđ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đ đđđąđ« đđ«đđđ, đđĄđđ«đ đ°đđŹ đ§đš đ„đšđŻđđ« đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đšđźđ„đ đđąđ§đ đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đđĄđ đŻđđ§đąđŹđĄđđ, đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đŹđđ đšđ§ đ§đđŻđđ« đđ„đ„đšđ°đąđ§đ đđ§đšđđĄđđ« đ©đđ«đŹđšđ§ đđ«đąđđ€ đđ§đ đđ«đđđ đČđšđź đđĄđ đ°đđČ đđĄđđ đČđšđźđ« đšđ„đ đđ«đąđđ§đ đĄđđ, đĄđ đĄđšđ©đđ đđšđ« đČđšđźđ« đŹđđ€đ đđĄđđ đ§đđ±đ đđąđŠđ đČđšđź đ°đđ§đ đđ«đšđźđ§đ đđĄđ đ°đšđ«đ„đ đąđ đđĄđąđŹ đ°đšđ«đ€đđ, đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đšđźđ„đ đđąđ§đ đŹđšđŠđđšđ§đ đđĄđđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđ«đđđ đČđšđźđ« đ«đąđ đĄđ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đšđźđ„đ đĄđđŻđ đĄđđ„đ©đđ đ«đąđŹđ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đđđ„đ„đđ§.
"đđ€đđČ, đđšđźđ§đ đŠđ đąđ§ đČ/đ„/đ§." đđąđŹ đ«đđŹđ©đšđ§đŹđ đĄđđ đđđ€đđ§ đđđđ«đ§đđ„ đŠđąđ§đźđđđŹ đđš đ«đđđđĄ đČđšđźđ« đđđ«đŹ, đ đ«đđđąđđČđąđ§đ đČđšđź đ°đąđđĄ đŹđšđŠđ đ«đđ„đąđđ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đŠđđ§ đđĄđđ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đđ«đšđŠ đ đŹđđ±đźđđ„ đ«đđ„đđđąđšđ§. đđĄđđ«đđđšđ«đ đ§đš đšđ§đ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđ đđąđŹđđ©đ©đšđąđ§đđđ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđź đđšđ« đĄđđŻđąđ§đ đ§đđ đđđąđŻđ đ„đźđđ€ đšđ§ đđ«đąđ§đ đąđ§đ đđšđ§đąđ§ đąđ§ đđ«đšđŠ đđĄđ đŹđđ«đđđđŹ, đđ§đ đąđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đąđ§ đČđšđźđ« đđđđđ§đđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đđđđđŠđ©đđđ đđš đđšđ§đŻđąđ§đđ đđĄđđŠ đđš đ„đđ đŹđšđŠđđšđ§đ đđ„đŹđ đđĄđđŹđ đđđđđ« đđĄđ đ«đđđąđ đđšđ , đđźđ đŹđšđŠđđĄđšđ° đČđšđź đĄđđ đđđŠđđ đĄđąđŠ đ«đąđ đĄđ đđđđđ« đĄđ đĄđđ đ„đđąđ đšđźđ đ đ©đšđšđ„ đšđ đđ„đšđšđ đ°đąđđĄđąđ§ đđĄđ đŹđđđźđ«đđđđ đ«đšđđ. đđ đ°đđŹ đđŹ đđĄđšđźđ đĄ đđĄđ đđđ«đ€ đĄđđ«đš đ°đđŹ đ«đđ„đźđđđđ§đ đđš đ đąđŻđ đąđ§ đđš đČđšđźđ« đ©đ«đšđ©đšđŹđąđ§đ đ°đĄđąđŠ, đąđ đđđ đ đđ«đđ đĄđąđŹ đđąđ đ§đąđđČ đđ§đ đ°đ«đđđđĄđđ đĄđąđŹ đđšđđ đšđ đ©đ«đđđđ§đđąđ§đ đđ„đ„ đĄđđ đđŻđđ« đ«đđŠđđąđ§đđ đ©đ„đđđšđ§đąđ đ°đąđđĄ đČđšđź, đŹđđđąđ§đ đČđšđźđ« đđđđ đĄđđ đŹđđ«đźđđ€ đĄđąđŠ đąđ§ đđąđŹđđźđ«đđąđ§đ đ°đđČđŹ đšđ đ«đđŠđđŠđđđ«đąđ§đ đ°đĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đĄđđ đđ§đ đ°đĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đ«đąđŹđ€đđ đąđ đđ„đ„ đđšđ«, đđ§đ đĄđ đ°đđŹ đđ°đđ«đ đ§đšđ° đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đ§đđŻđđ« đđđŹđđ«đŻđđ đČđšđźđ« đđđđđđđąđšđ§, đđĄđąđŹ đĄđđ đđđđ§ đ đŹđ„đšđ° đ«đđđ„đąđŹđđđąđšđ§ đđźđ đ§đšđ° đĄđ đ€đ§đđ°. đđđ«đĄđđ©đŹ đąđ đđĄđąđŹ đđ„đ„ đ°đšđ«đ€đđ đšđźđ đđĄđ đ°đđČ đđĄđđ đđšđ§đČ đĄđđ đŹđđźđ„đ©đđđ đđĄđđ§ đĄđ đŹđĄđšđźđ„đ đđšđŠđ đđ„đđđ§ đ°đąđđĄ đđĄđšđŹđ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đđąđđđđ đđš đ°đąđđĄ đđđ«đđ„đąđđ đđ±đđźđŹđđŹ đđ§đ đđđ«đ đđąđ§ đđ„đ„ đđĄđđ đĄđ đĄđđ đŹđš đđĄđđ đđĄđđČ đđšđźđ„đ đđ„đ„ đđĄđšđšđŹđ đąđ đđĄđđČ đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đđđđđđ« đšđ« đŹđđąđ„đ„ đđđŹđąđ«đđ đđš đĄđđŻđ đĄđąđŠ đąđ§ đđĄđđąđ« đ„đąđŻđđŹ. đđ đ°đđŹ đ đđĄđđđ, đ đ€đąđ„đ„đđ«, đ đĄđđđ«đđđ«đđđ€đđ«, đ đ„đąđđ«, đđŻđđ«đČđđĄđąđ§đ đđĄđ đŠđđđąđ đ«đđđ«đšđŹđ©đđđđąđŻđđ„đČ đđ±đ©đđđđđ đĄđąđŠ đ§đšđ đđš đđ, đđ§đ đđĄđąđŹ đ°đđŹ đ§đšđ đ§đđ°đŹ đđšđ« đČđšđź đđ§đ đđĄđźđŹ đČđšđź đŹđđąđ„đ„ đ°đąđŹđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđđ§'đ đĄđđ đđš đđđđ đđĄđąđŹ đđđđđąđŻđąđ§đ đđŻđąđ„ đđ§đ đđĄđđČ đĄđđ đŹđđ§đ đđđđđŹđĄđ đąđ§đŹđđđđ.
đđ đđ«đąđđ đđš đ«đđđđĄ đđšđ« đČđšđźđ« đĄđđ§đ đđŹ đąđ đđš đŹđąđ„đđ§đđ„đČ đŹđđđđ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đšđźđ„đ đđš đđĄđąđŹ đđšđ đđđĄđđ«, đąđ đ°đđŹ đđ§ đđđ đšđ đŹđČđŠđđšđ„đąđŹđŠ đđš đđŹđ€ đąđ đČđšđź đ°đšđźđ„đ đđŻđđ« đđšđ«đ đąđŻđ đĄđąđŹ đŹđąđ§đŹ, đąđ đđĄđđČ đđšđźđ„đ đđ đ°đđŹđĄđđ đđ°đđČ đąđ§ đđĄđąđŹ đ©đđŹđđđ«đąđ§đ đ«đđąđ§. đđĄđ đđ„đšđšđ đđĄđđ đŹđ„đąđđ€đđ đĄđąđŹ đ đ„đšđŻđ đđđđ«đđđđđ đČđšđźđ« đ°đđ«đČ đđČđđŹ đđ§đ đ°đąđđĄ đ đŹđđźđ«đđČ đ đźđ„đ© đšđ đ„đšđ đąđđđ„ đ«đđđŹđšđ§ đđšđ«đ«đđŹđ©đšđ§đđąđ§đ đđš đČđšđźđ« đ đźđ, đČđšđź đ«đđđźđŹđđ đđšđ§đđđđ đ°đąđđĄ đđĄđ đđąđŹđ«đđ đđ«đđąđ§đ đđđđ„ đđ§đ đđ„đ„đšđ°đđ đĄđąđŠ đđš đ°đđąđ đđšđ« đČđšđźđ« đ«đđŹđ©đšđ§đŹđ đźđ§đđąđ„ đĄđ đ«đđđ„đąđŹđđ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đ§đšđ đ đšđąđ§đ đđš đ đąđŻđ đšđ§đ. đđ đ°đđŹđ§'đ đ°đĄđđ đĄđ đđđŹđđ«đŻđđ, đđŹđ©đđđąđđ„đ„đČ đ§đšđ đđ«đšđŠ đČđšđź, đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đŹđđąđ„đ„ đđ«đČđąđ§đ đđš đđšđ«đ đąđŻđ đČđšđźđ«đŹđđ„đ đđ«đšđŠ đđđąđ§đ đđĄđ 'đšđđĄđđ« đ°đšđŠđđ§', đđ§đ đŹđš đźđ§đđąđ„ đČđšđź đ©đ«đšđđđđđđ đđš đđš đŁđźđŹđ đđĄđđ đĄđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đ«đđđđąđŻđ đ§đšđđĄđąđ§đ đŹđĄđšđ«đ đšđ đ đĄđđ„đ đđŹđŹđđ đ đ„đđ«đ đđ§đ đ đŹđ©đąđ§ đšđ đČđšđźđ« đĄđđđ„ đđĄđđ đ©đ«đąđđ đđ đĄđąđŠ đđš đđšđ„đ„đšđ° đđđđ€ đđš đđĄđ đȘđźđąđ§đŁđđ đđĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đ©đąđ„đšđđđ đĄđđ«đ đŹđšđ„đš. đđđđđźđŹđ đđĄđđ'đŹ đ°đĄđđ đČđšđź đ°đđ«đ đ§đšđ°, đ đ„đšđ§đ đŹđšđ„đđąđđ« đ«đđđĄđđ« đđĄđđ§ đ đđđđđ«đŠđąđ§đđ đ°đšđŠđđ§ đ°đĄđš đ°đđ§đđđ đđš đ đđ đ°đĄđđ đŹđĄđ đ°đđ§đđđ đđ§đ đ°đšđ«đ đĄđđ« đŹđđđ«đ„đđ đĄđđđ«đ đšđ§ đĄđđ« đŹđ„đđđŻđ; đ§đš đŹđšđźđ„ đ°đšđźđ„đ đđđ€đ đČđšđź đđđđ€ đąđ§ đđąđŠđ đđš đ°đĄđđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đđšđ§đ, đđ§đ đđ«đđŹđąđ§đ đąđ đ°đšđźđ„đ đĄđđŻđ đŹđđšđ©đ©đđ đČđšđźđ« đŹđđ„đ đ đ«đšđ°đđĄ - đđ đ„đđđŹđ đČđšđź đĄđđ đ„đđđ«đ§đ đŹđšđŠđđđĄđąđ§đ đđ«đšđŠ đČđšđźđ« đđąđŹđĄđšđ§đšđźđ«đđđ„đ đŠđąđŹđđđ€đđŹ đźđ§đ„đąđ€đ đŹđšđŠđ đĄđźđŠđđ§đŹ đ°đĄđš đĄđđ đČđđ đđš.
#clint barton x reader#clint barton imagine#clint barton x you#hawkeye x reader#hawkeye fanfic#avengers x reader#endgame x reader#hawkeye imagine#hawkeye fic#hawkeye x y/n#hawkeye x you#clint x reader#clint x y/n#clint barton fic#clint barton x y/n
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And yet she's still the one that got screwed over by Marvel đźâđš
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#marvel#avengers#mcu#avengers: infinity war#avengers : endgame#black widow#natasha romanov#natasha romonova#natasha x reader#avengers x reader#scarlett johansson x reader#Scarlett johansson
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*Y/N and Strange watching Scarlet Witch from a distance*
Y/N: Thatâs her. Thatâs the girl I have a crush on.
Y/N: Thoughts?
Strange: âŠ
Strange: And prayers, girl.
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wandavision#scarlet witch#scarlet witch x reader#wanda maximoff meme#incorrect quotes#incorrect marvel quotes#marvel endgame#agatha harkness#coven of chaos#dr strange
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Ah yes i am having a normal one working on the rlgl au for around 6 hours straight (very very slow because still sick)
That feeling when even more of the people from work show up at your apartment complex and get a good look at your face making it even more likely that you will be found out for breaking company rules
Y/N is like: yea i clean up after these people all day at work and know all their little tricks, they dont have any effects on me!
Chica: exists
Y/N: g...girls .... pretty...
#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#sundrop#moondrop#fnaf dca#daycare attendant x reader#fnaf chica#rlgl au#my art#i am very tired now its 1:30 am#i am just still up because i hate not getting fully finished with something in one go#i actually should rest#but yea#rlgl au treat for you#for the sillies#idk guys i made y/n just not care bout gender... like me#but also women pretty#jea i made this because i am a chica simp#no i will not elaborate#dont worry sun and moon are still endgame.... unless you wanna have all three of them#that can be arranged#maybe i should do a poll on that some day#also yea 40% of the time was used on trying to get her beak to not look like shit
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I found this cute behind the scenes pictures of Lizzie from Avengers Endgame and had to share it with you all. đ
#elizabeth olsen#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen x you#lizzie olsen#elizabeth olsen pictures#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#soft wanda maximoff#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel pictures#marvel behind the scenes#marvel cast#the avengers#the scarlet witch#mcu fandom#mcu#wanda mcu#avengers: endgame
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Rest in Peace
Natalia Alianovna Romanova
Born: December 3rd, 1984
Died: October 16th, 2023
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha x reader#natasha x you#black widow#black widow x reader#black widow x you#natalia romanova#natasha romanov#marvel#marvel x reader#mcu#the avengers#avengers x reader#avengers#avengers: endgame#scarlett johansson#natasha marvel#marvel pictures
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âąâąâąI do not actively take requests. Please feel free to send them but it is not a guarantee that I will write them. I will message you and discuss or let you know if I can't do it. Unless you're sending Anon, then it's kinda out of my hands. I love all of your ideas. I just sometimes can't do them justice.âąâąâą
[x Reader One-Shots & Drabbles]
[x Caryl One-Shots & Drabbles]
[Werewolf AU]
[Headcanons]
[Incorrect Quotes]
[Series]
[Events]
[x Reader One-Shots & Drabbles]
[x Reader One-Shots & Drabbles]
[x Reader One-Shots & Drabbles]
[Currently writing]
Semi-Hiatus (Writing/Updating different things when time is available)
[LoadingâŠ]
Blood Ties Chapter 29
Random Caryl One-Shots
Marchweres
The Dixon Chronicles 21
Our Fate Engraved Chapter 1
Various One-Shots/Drabbles - All Characters
You can call me Murda
Iâm older than 20, younger than 50
I am a DV and SA survivor
I use writing as an outlet and genuinely love it but sometimes it makes me want to rip my hair out
I have PTSD, severe anxiety disorder, severe depressive disorder, bipolar 2 disorder, phobia disorder
I am socially awkward
I am vertically challenged
I absolutely adore Norman Reedus
Daryl Dixon is my comfort character
Caryl is my OTP
My best friend is a three-legged Boxer
My soulmate is a 35lb pit bull mix
I am a notorious people pleaser
I want to make millions of friends and be terrified to interact with them
I am ridiculously forgetful
I am an unintentional pen thief
Spiders can go back to hell where they belong
I thought pickles grew on trees until my 20âs
I get overwhelmed quite easily
#murda writes#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead: daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead: daryl dixon spoilers#caryl#caryl fanfiction#caryl fandom#caryl therapy#caryl positivity#caryl is endgame#caryl is coming#daryl dixon x carol peletier#carol peletier x daryl dixon
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the one that didn't get away - Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Words: 780
Fluff, angst
A/N: This is a belated birthday gift for my dear @iosonoarina đđ
taglist: @iosonoarina @stefroutledge @blackwidow-3
taglist || ko-fi
War was over.
The Avengers had won. Well, Thanos was defeated and now it was time to mourn the losses and go back to the world that they had known before the snap. A world that part of Natasha didnât believe would ever come back.
Now there was hope again. Hope that she would find you home, safe and sound and things would pick up from where youâd left them before Thanos had almost destroyed everything. Hope that she would find you home and that youâd still love her.Â
Hope that everything will be okay.
**
âBanner, Iâm fine, let me go.â Natasha insisted, wanting to be cleared so she could make it home to her apartment - a place where sheâd barely slept as it felt like a haunted museum without you in it. A museum holding the memories you two had made, a museum reminding her of how empty her life was without you.
âYou will come back for more testing tomorrow, you hit your head.âÂ
âMy head is fine but yours wonât be if you keep me here.âÂ
âFine, fine. Go.â Bruce lifted his arms in defeat.
Natasha stole the keys to one of Tonyâs cars and drove off, speeding towards her old apartment. She had no phone on her and the closer she got to that apartment, the more her pulse raced.
Her heart stopped completely when she pulled up in front of the apartment building and saw you emerge from the door.
âNat..â Nat saw you whisper and ran out of the car, wrapping her bruised body around yours. She started shaking as relief flooded every cell of her body.
âĐŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐ°ŃâŠâ Natasha repeated over and over again as the two of you held each other in the middle of the sidewalk. She didnât care that her body ached from the long battle, she didnât care that there was so much that she still needed to do. No. There was you, solid and breathing in her arms. The scent of you enveloping her, your presence finally anchoring her home after so many years of drifting.
You cupped her face gently, scanning and making sure that she was whole, that she wasnât a dream.
âWhat happened?â You asked but your question was silenced with a desperate kiss which you reciprocated just as passionately.
âIt was a bad time.â Nat caressed your face gently, your heart breaking when you felt her hands shaking against your skin, touching you almost with a reverence.
âIâm here. Weâll handle it.â You reassured her before leading her back into the apartment.
**
Time went on. The two of you were almost inseparable and it came as a huge relief to you when Natasha announced that she will step back from the Avengers. There would be less shadows haunting you two.Â
âYouâre staring.â Yelena scolded her older sister as you were making tea in the kitchen of your apartment.
âMind your own business.â Nat bit back playfully.
âYouâre so in love, I could puke.â Yelena made a gagging face.
âYouâll find your person too.â Nat winked at her and then moved her gaze back to you.
âI canât believe that you two made it.â Yelena commented.
âWhy?â You asked, looking at your future sister-in-law. The two of you had grown closer in the months after endgame, and in your new home with Natasha, Yelena had her own room, which she joked was as if she was your pet.
âBecause the world tried to tear you apart yet you resisted.âÂ
âNo, Thanos tried to tear us apart, we finished his stupid grape face.â Nat argued.Â
Her comment made the three of you laugh. There was still lingering darkness from the time of the snap and the final battle, but Nat frequented therapy and you knew that it would all work out.
âSo, did you set a date for the big day?â Yelena looked at you and Nat all snuggled up on the couch.
âNo, we are not rushing.âÂ
âAre you tempting fate?â Yelena teased petting your orange cat who plopped herself on the floor next to her.
âShe is the one that didnât get away. Thereâs no doubt about that.â Natasha smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Sheâd had other relationships before meeting you but her soul knew that sheâd found home with you the moment sheâd laid eyes on you and getting you back was something that she would have given up everything for.
âYouâre not getting rid of me that easily.â You teased, even though Natasha could see the tears shining in your eyes.
âGood.â Nat kissed you gently.
âLord, save me.â Yelena muttered, bursting your little bubble and lightening the mood.Â
#natasha romanoff#marvel#natasha romanov#the black widow#natasha romanoff x reader#marvel fic#black widow x reader#mcu fic#post endgame
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This is the image that made me fall in love with Wanda. The rocks look like angel winds, making her even more angelic.
#lesbian#avengers endgame#elizabeth olsen#doctor strange#little!reader#wanda and pietro#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff x vision#wandavision#wanda multiverse of madness#mommy wanda#wanda mcu#wanda maximilf#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximommy#wanda maximoff x plus size reader#wanda maximoff x agatha harkness#wanda maximoff x platonic!reader#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff edit#wanda maximoff gif#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda x natasha
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delicatebarness | masterlist
Spotify
I Think He Knows Series | Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader | Masterlist and Extras
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Five - Post-Credit Scene | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Seven - Post-Credit Scene | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten
I Can't Read Your Mind | FATWS!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Reader
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Epilogue
Bring Him Home Series | Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three - Remastered | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Epilogue
Winterâs Child Series | Mom!Natasha Romanoff x Dad!Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader
Pilot |
#bucky barnes#white wolf#falcon and the winter soldier#james bucky barnes#the winter soldier#catws#winter soldier#bucky x female reader#dad!tony stark x daughter!reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#x reader#the avengers#tony stark#tony stark x reader#stark daughter#fatws!bucky x agent!reader#fatws bucky#fatws#bucky barnes x daughter!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x rogers!reader#bucky barnes x you#i think he knows#i think he knows series#high school au#fatws au#endgame au
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love me, hate me - s.r
summary: steve rogers pisses you off, and you piss him off. but is it really ever that simple?
warnings: SMUT 18+ (MINORS DNI), p in v, switch steve & reader, face sitting, unprotected sex, talks of bodily fluids, enemies to lovers a little bit, slight hate fucking but also not?? feelings at the end sort of.
word count: 2.8.k
a little note: Happy New Year to you all! finished this at 4 am so not betaâd any mistakes are my own (seriously i just spelled mistakes as âmestayksâ so like sorry lol) half based on this request but also something i already had in the works that seemed to mesh xx
"Let's not forget who's doing who a favour." You chide, already irritated by presence.
"Please sweetheart, I'm doing you more of a favour than you realise."
"And how's that Mr Rogers?" You fix his crooked tie. Always picking up after him.
"You walk in there with me? There's no way you're going home alone tonight." He smooths out the collar on his shirt, checking himself over in the mirror. "Your little problem gets solved."
"My little problem?"
"Don't get me wrong, Yels, it's great doing it yourself but it would be nice for someone give me an orgasm every now and then."
"You fuckin pig! You were listening to my conversation?" You're embarrassed. Beyond embarrassed. If there's one person that doesn't need to know about your dwindling sex life it's Steve Rogers.
"It's kinda hard not to overhear yours and Yelena's screeching on girls night." Once again those fingers fly up into quotation marks and you have to blink yourself free from the daze you're slipping into.
Maybe Steve does have a point, you're significantly louder after a bottle or two of rose, but it doesn't give him the right to use your own words against you.
"You're a dick, Rogers. It's none of your fucking business how many orgasms I have." He's smirking down at you now, something in his eyes you've never seen before. "Let's just get this over with. I don't want to have to see your face any longer than necessary."
The two of you enter the ballroom together as planned, and heads turn almost instantly. The quiet gasps and turning heads boost his scolded ego more than nicely. But that's all it is. A soothing bandage over a painful wound.
Stark's infamous shindigs that rivalled even the most grand of galas, yet you are the only thing that matters to him in a room filled with expensive champagne and extravagant sculptures. He watches you from across the room, Bucky's latest debrief on Sam's irritating behaviour blending into the mindless background chatter.
You're done up to the nines, pretty hair twisted in some intricate up-do, and that dress. That fucking dress. He wonders if things would be easier if you knew how he really felt about you, that the trading of insults between the two of you is the only way he can resist pinning you against every available surface and fucking the attitude out of you.
You work your charm with everyone that comes up to you, offering you drinks and boring conversation. You know you're in charge, so do they, and so does he.
He spots you talking to a pretty redhead he soon recognises as Wanda, she's changed since he last saw her. But he much more notices the lingering stares and flirtatious touches, the way you lean into each other and laugh a little too loud. Jealousy is no longer a green eyed monster, but a blonde haired, blue eyed super soldier.
You happen to glance over at him in that moment, taking in his tensed jaw and white-knuckle grip on his champagne flute, expecting it to shatter under any more force. He watches as you smirk in his direction, and the go back to the conversation like he wasn't even there. Sam and Bucky pull him away to a conversation that is meant to be important and he loses sight of you for the rest of the evening.
The party starts to get a little too lively towards 11pm, the rowdy crowd excited about the looming new year. You find yourself at the bar, sick of your uncomfortable shoes, ready to get more than drunk, kiss a bottle at midnight and fall into bed with your vibrator once again. Someone slides into the empty seat next to you, speaking to the bar tender. You catch the 'and whatever she's having' and roll your eyes just wanting to be left alone at this point.
Your double vodka and cranberry is slid in front of you and you take a single sip before turning to the man next to you. He's attractive, with his full beard and long brown hair. There's something in his eyes but you don't care enough to find out that much about him. He shakes your hand firmly, introducing himself as Quentin Beck. You smile and thank him when he compliments you, you hum and nod when he tells you about his latest technological venture that sounds weirdly similar to Tony's, you smile coyly when he rests a hand on your thigh and offers to take you somewhere a little less private.
You're silently disappointed that this is the best you could do on a night like tonight but you're not one to look a fort horse in the mouth. He guides you through the crowd with a hand around your waist until the function room doors come into view and your excitement dims even further. Steve stands in the doorway, arms crossed and biceps bulging as he stares at Quentin and then his hand on your waste.
"Hey honey." He wraps his fingers around your wrist lightly, stopping you in your tracks. He stares down at you for a second too long, then diverts his gaze to Beck.
"Fuck off." Two words. Two are all it takes for Quentin to crumble.
His hand moves from your waist faster than you can blink and he's already being swallowed up by the crowd when you turn away from glaring at Steve. His fingers linger around your wrist but you shrug him off, and leave the grand ballroom stomping down to the elevator.
He follows you of course, right up to your door, pushing inside when you try and slam it in his face.
"Honey that guy was a creep."
"Don't 'honey' me you just ruined my one good chance of getting laid tonight." You kick off your shoes.
"Well I wouldn't call it a good chance..."
"What was that?!" You're about to fiddle with the zip of your dress but instead steve has your attention and an insane amount of audacity.
"M'just saying he wouldn't have been worth it." He pauses, sitting on your bed uninvited. "Doesn't look like he can find his car keys let alone please a woman."
"I guess I'll never know now." You scoff.
"Use me instead."
What in the sweet baby jesus?!
"How much have you had to drink?" You chuckle, and go back to working your zip.
"You know I can't get drunk. How much have you had to drink?" He retorts, reaching up to undo the zipper for you.
"Not enough for this to be a hallucination. What's in it for you?"
"An orgasm." Fair enough.
"Why are you doing this? Are you trying to humiliate me?"
"What? No! I'm just trying to apologise for ruining your New Years hook up." He looks sincere, but then Steve never lies. You on the other hand, would be lying if you said you didn't want to jump his bones at least twenty three and a half of the twenty four hours in the day. And he's offering himself to you on a golden platter. Why turn. it down?
"Strip."
It's a simple word, but it holds so much power. Starting something that may just fucking ruin you. But you want it. He wants it. The easy route be damned. Steve is quick to discard his clothing, looking up at you expectantly waiting for your next request. You simply just let your dress drop, carefully stepping over the expensive fabric and slotting yourself between Steve's legs. His eyes widen when he realises you'd neglected to put on any underwear that evening. She reaches out to touch you, rest a hand on your hip but you slap it away.
"Lay back." You kneel over his hips, excitement fizzling on your skin as he rests on his elbows, taking up an insane amount of space with his broad shoulders and wide thighs. He doesn't move any further, a sly smirk on his lips and wonder in his eyes.
"I said I don't want to see your face, lie the fuck back." You have him under your thumb, and your pussy, when he lays back against the cotton sheets you crawl across his body and rest above his face. His hands grip onto the backs of your thighs, usually light eyes dark with lust.Â
"No touching." You thread his arms above him, resting forward and pinning them against the pillows. His response is muffled when you lower yourself onto his face. His tongue works wonders when he's not using it to talk and you definitely prefer it when he's not talking.
You grind yourself down against his pliant tongue, clit bumping his stupidly perfect nose with each thrust. You're taking what you deserve from him, what he owes you and you fucking love it. You love the fact that he could easily slip you underneath him, pin you beneath him and pull you apart but instead he's letting you use him, letting you grind yourself to an orgasm on his face.
"You're not so useless after all Rogers, fucking hell." His lips purse around your exposed clit and your thighs shake a little. You press yourself further against him, chasing your well deserved orgasm until you're panting above him half spent.
Lifting yourself off of him, you take in his flushed cheeks and blown out eyes. God he's pretty. Your hand strokes through his hair and he leans into your touch. Putty in your hands.
You reach back, your hands almost dwarfed by the impressive size of his pretty cock. You struggle to wrap your hands around him fully, but when you start stroking him slow but firm it doesn't matter. His face twists into one of pure bliss and his hips fuck up into your fist desperately. Deciding enough is enough you manoeuvre down his body, hovering over his painfully hard weeping cock. You drag him through your folds, almost slipping him in before bumping his engorged head against your clit until you're right on the edge of desperation and finally sink down on him.
You take him slowly at first, unable to stay quiet as he stretches you open. There's a slight sting but my god does it sting so good. Once he's fully sheathed you take a moment to accommodate, grinding down on him, twin moans coming from the two of you. You raise yourself up again, right to the tip and back down, slowly building the rhythm until you're bouncing on his cock, hitting spots you didn't even know existed panting for breath.Â
"You feel so fucking good." You whimper chasing your own pleasure, fuelled by Steve's. He fists the bedsheets, so obedient trying not to touch you, but you look so pretty and broken and you're touching yourself whilst you ride him, clenching down on his dick so fucking perfectly. He's more vocal than. you expected, grunting and moaning and whining.
"Fuck I'm gonna come. Steve." Your fingers roll your taught nipples between your fingers, pinching and pulling. Steve's hips stutter for a moment, but then he's right there with you, fucking up into your perfect cunt until you're shaking on his dick, grinding your clit against his pubic bone and falling over the edge.
He doesn't give you a second to breath, wrapping his strong arms around you and placing you flat on your back. You're breathless, your vision is still fuzzy but then he's pounding into you. Lifting your leg above his shoulder opening you up up to him even more. You're well and truly fucked. Not a single word or thought or even sound registering. You're just wide eyed and open mouthed and taking what he gives you.
"Not so cocky now are we, hmm sweetheart." His thumb flicks your clit once and you're coming all over again, a loud scream echoing off of the walls.
"There she is. So fucking perfect, taking what you need. Did I do well, did I satisfy your greedy pussy or do you still want more?"
"St-Steve. More." You sound so broken, so unalike yourself but you never want to go back to her when you can be this.
"Course you fuckin do. Play with your tits for me, that's a good girl." He thrusts slow but deep, your weak legs held in position by his huge hands. He relishes in your flushed face and smudged makeup. Your hair has foregone the confines of bobby pins and it's splayed out on the cushion behind you. You're fucking perfect.
"Who's cunt is this?" Your eyes lull into the back of your head when he delivers a quick sharp tap to your clit. "Tell me who's cunt it is and I'll let you cum."
"Y-Yours. Yours Steve."
"Good. And who's fuckin dick is this tearing you apart?" It's all too much, you're on the verge of crying from the overstimulation. "Who's is it?"
"Mine."
"Good fucking girl." He punctuates his words with his thrusts, picking up speed once more and rubbing small quick circles against your clit. Your tears do spill then, dark mascara running down your cheeks when you explode all over him.
He fucks you through the orgasm, pulling out of you when you begin to claw at his chest, leaving pretty marks all over him. He kneels over you, furiously stroking himself to completion until he cums in long white ropes all over your breasts, chest heaving and panting. He collapses next to you, silent as you try to catch your breaths and wrap your head around what just happened.
It shouldn't surprise you when Steve gets up to the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth, but it does. It leaves you stunned. You try not to show it though, nor do you give him a glimpse at how disappointed you are about leaving.
"Damn Rogers, you really know how to hate fuck." Steve's gaze is frantic, but mostly confused.
"Hate? I don't hate you." His eyebrows are pulled together so tightly you're scared they might just fuse into one another.
"Could've fooled me." You pull up your underwear and pull on his shirt foregoing the tight dress.
"Look. I don't. Hate. You. Do you get on my nerves? Sometimes. But I could never hate you."
"So what? You wanna call the way you've treated me since I got here a proclamation of your undying love." He's silent. "You can't be fucking serious Rogers."
"Don't be like that, you gave just as good as you got." You scoff, but it's the truth. "Every time I look at you I want to fuck you, every time I see someone even look at you I wanna fuckin... I don't know!"
"Steve..."
"You terrify me. I have all these feelings for you, but you're so... you. You're so gorgeous, you're potty mouth and you're strong and you don't take shit from no one, not even me. I'm an idiot, I know that and I don't expect a sorry to fix anything, but I need you to know that that wasn't a one time thing, I want you."
"Well fuck. You have feelings for me?" He nods, simple, effective and oh so Steve Rogers. "I thought. I don't know what I though. I walked in here and you just stared at me and left, and I guess I though you took one look at me and decided I wasn't enough. So I decided I was gonna prove you wrong."
"I think you're everything. You've certainly proved me right." He looks angry, at himself at and the situation, but mostly at the fact that you'd ever thought those things about yourself.
"Right pair of idiots we are." You mutter, trying to lighten the you're-not-sure-what mood. He pulls you into his lap, rough hand resting around your waist.
"Aren't we just." He whispers against your lips.
"How many people did you tell to fuck off tonight? Just out of interest."
"Bout 15." He mumbles and then laughs, "don't regret a single one of them though."
You surge forward and press against him. His lips are softer than expected and his movements are so slow, so tentative. You arch into him, greed driving your need to make up for the last few wasted months.
A loud bang erupts from outside of the glass windows, popping into a concoction of golds and reds and pinks, until the New York skyline is littered with individual fireworks displays.
"Happy New Year Rogers." You whisper against his lips, though it turns into a breathless whimper when he pulls your panties to the side. "You get on my nerves too by the way. Like a whole lot."
"Yeah yeah. Happy New Year."
#chris evans#marvel#marvel smut#smut#avengers endgame#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader smut#steve rogers#nomad steve#chris evans smut#steve rogers fic rec#mcu smut#captain america smut#steve rogers x f!reader#captain america#marvel fic
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My Favorite Pose
ComPOUND Round 3 [Bucky x Fem Reader]
Minors DNI đ
Summary: First morning of your week alone in the compound with Bucky. He adds himself to your morning routine. ;) Established relationship. If youâve been following the plot PLEASE STOP but your powers and vaguely why you stayed behind are revealed.
Warnings â ïž: smut af, bondage, a lil rough but not too much, oral (m and f), praise kink, p in v, unprotected
WC: 1.7k??
Itâs 5:30 AM and there are little to no off days even for low key weeks like this. I get up and walk to get the specially designed breakfast that F.R.I.D.A.Y. planned for me. If there is one thing I miss about my past life it was a big flavorful breakfast⊠well and my family not being the reason the rest of the Avengers are trying to save a population of innocent people.
Surprise! Iâve got daddy issues. Thatâs my whole conflict of interest that kept me from the mission. I canât do it. I told them not to tell me who did it if they are gone by the end of it. No matter how much Iâve been burned by them Iâll still hesitate.
I take my last bite and walk to the training center. I try to quiet my mind with some yoga before I get into the intense workouts. As I move into downward dog, I feel Buckyâs two hands pull my ass to his crotch. He gives it a light squeeze that still hurts because of the marks he left on it last night.
âDownward Dog - my favorite pose. What are you doing up so early Angel?â
âYou know that pet name can only stretch so far,â I stand up. He throws his hands up with a cocky grin.
âSorry, itâs just so fitting. I havenât seen them in a while. Itâs kind of hot when you pop them out. You should give me a quick show,â he says with that grin somehow getting smugger. The lack of sleep I got last night really motivated me to remind him what got me here in the first place.
âCareful what you wish for.â
In less than a second I sprout my wings then clap them hard in front of me which sends him flying across the room. I retract them back in an instant. He gets up laughing and clapping.
âWoo! That is what Iâm talking about angel! I would ask to see the other stuff but we donât want to set the building on fire do we?â
I canât control myself when my other powers ignite - literally ignite. While he playfully annoys me, I donât think I could ever release that hell fire. My powers are not âbiblicalâ but they sure are other worldly.
âI need to get back to it. Thereâs food in the fridge. Just donât touch my meal prep,â I hate that sentence just left my mouth.
âI donât want your meal prep,â he walks behind me with our bodies facing the mirrors and his hands snaking up and down my body. âI want you. If you wanna get some training in I can show you somethings,â he says into my ear while tucking my hair back. So unfair.
âI donât have-â
âYou see this?â, he picks up my yoga strap. Out of nowhere he runs in front of me to kick the back of my legs. We both fall to the floor. He has me pinned down and starts tying the strap around my wrists.
âThis is called a constrictor knot. In the event you have a disobedient girl giving you attitude, this knot comes in real handy,â he pushes his hand up my shirt to grab my breast. He moves it back down into my leggings and starts rubbing.
âFuck. I could do whatever I want to do to you right now. Youâre so wet. I cannot wait to get my cock inside you.â
I feel his fingers slip in and out. I let out a whimper. The sounds of my wet cunt make him growl. With a loud grunt he rips my leggings off. His fingers are back inside me and moving with fury. His eyes are hungry and he plants his head between my thighs with force.
As his tongue moves around my clit, I let out some âAh! Ah! AH!âs. I start thrashing my body from the pleasure. He takes his vibranium arm to hold my hips down making me immobile.
âWhatever I want to do to you. Donât make me repeat myself again. Now what do we say?â
âYes sir.â
âGood girl.â
He sits up to free himself from his shorts. I am towered over with his cock in my face.
âGet to work doll. Letâs practice some breathing exercises for your training today.â
He puts his cock in my mouth and I start to move my head up and down. His length hits the back of my throat and I cough choking on it.
âSuch a good girl for me trying so hard. Now youâre getting that pussy filled.â
He pulls on the strap to lift me up for a sloppy kiss with my taste still on his tongue. He drops me to the floor again to pin me under him. In no time his cock is thrusting into me with a speed so fast it shakes my body back and forth.
âIâm really making you mine this week. Iâm gonna fuck you in every room I can. Get ready to drop whatever youâre doing for me whenever I want.â
I need this honestly. Losing my body to him feels more comfortable than I ever thought it would. My helplessness to his pounding excites me with both safety knowing heâs the one doing it and anticipation for what he might pull next.
He pulls the strap up so that I mesh into a seated position with him. He pumps into me with an unmatched passionate kiss. His free hand runs through my hair and gives it a pull in the back. He releases a heavy breath and moan. Iâm squealing as he hits my g spot and my clit rubs against his body.
âFuck Bucky! Youâre killing me!â
âGood thing we know youâll go to heaven then.â
He turns me onto my stomach so that Iâm facing the mirrors. I arch up my ass anticipating his next move. I grip onto the strap preparing to take him. He kneels behind me and picks my head up.
âLook at you catching on. Now watch yourself get fucked.â
He slams his cock back inside me and thrusts with power. My high pitched screams are music to his ears. He grabs my ass and slaps it back and forth a few times.
âI thought I was being your good girl?â, I tease.
âDonât act like you donât get pleasure from my punishments. You might be my good girl right now but doesnât mean I wonât give you a reminder of whatâs in store for bad girls.â
âNot fair,â I laugh. Wrong choice.
He flips me over swiftly. He pulls tight on the strap to put the end in front of my face. His grip tenses around it.
âYou remember this? I decide whatâs fair and whatâs not. Youâre all tied up Angel. You take what you get and believe me youâre gonna get it.â
He throws my arms down then smacks the side of my ass with his vibranium hand. There is pleasure in his punishments. His movements are the hardest and fastest Iâve felt from him since our first time.
âIâm getting close to giving you my next load. Iâve loved filling you up with all my cum and watching it drip out you. Shows youâre all mine. No one else gets this pussy but me.â
My body tingles at his words. I give him an affirming mhm. He grabs my face.
âI wanna hear you say it âBucky this pussy is yoursâ if you want this load. Sing me that beautiful song Angel and itâs all yours.â
âBuckyâŠ,â he hits the spot again which throws me off track.
âBucky thisâŠ,â he cues for the rest of what he wants to hear. He lifts my hips up and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I scrunch my face then open my eyes wide as I feel my own cum.
âItâs yours! Itâs yours! I promise itâs all yours!â
Mmmmh! I feel his huge burst of cum in me. He pulls out and it was definitely the biggest load of all the rounds so far. My hands are set free with some mild brush burns. He grabs my hands and gives them each light kisses.
âIâll be more careful next time bunny. You just get me too hot,â he groans. I get a kiss loaded with tongue.
What a wonderful first morning with him back!
#avengers smut#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader#dom bucky barnes#marvel smut#winter solider smut#winter solider x reader#endgame#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barns x you#bucky smut#bucky barns x reader#bucky fic
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"Who's afraid of little old me?" Well you should be
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#ttpd#ts ttpd#the tortured poets department: the anthology#the tortured poets department#who's afraid of little old me?#marvel#avengers#mcu#natasha x reader#iron man 2#avengers: endgame#avengers : endgame#black widow#black widow x reader
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Emo Wanda: Stop telling me what to do!
Y/N: Eat me out.
Emo Wanda: Okay tell me what to do.
#wanda maximoff#wandavision#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff x you#wanda multiverse of madness#marvel endgame#incorrect marvel quotes#wanda maximoff incorrect quotes#incorrect quotes#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch#coven of chaos
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good morning voltron fandom đđa little reminder that the writers bullshitted us and never gave us klance endgame đ(i'm in denial and i'm just gonna say they got together at the end of season 8)
#i can't believe that i came into voltron at season one and waited years believing klance would be endgame#im in so much denial please help me literally#voltron#voltron x reader#vld#voltron legendary defender#voltron keith#keith kogane#klance#lance voltron#lance mclain#lance x reader#lance mclain x reader#keith kogane x reader#keith x reader#keith x reader smut#keith kogane x reader smut#lance x reader smut#lance mclain x reader smut
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I'm Free Tonight
master list
dark master list
MCU Compliant (Female Reader X Carol Danvers)
Summary:Â A lovely stranger saves you from a boring Christmas Gala.
Word Count: 2.8K
Content: Just Fluff
"You alone?"
You looked up from your seat at the round table and saw the blue eyes of a blonde you'd never seen before.
She wore a beautiful maroon and blue dress with a gold chest piece. Your dress looked silly in comparison, no matter how much your girlfr- ex girlfriend(?) paid for it.
And she wasn't cheap.
An heiress, some would call her.
Others used the word bitch.
You tore your eyes away from the blonde and gestured to a woman at the bar. Clearly drunk and openly flirting with one of the groomsmen. "Supposed to be with her."
The blonde looked where you pointed, and the curiosity on her face turned into one of disappointment.
Followed by a smirk.
"Well, I'm Carol. Carol Danvers." The blon- Carol switched her champagne flute from her right to her left hand. She extended the right to you when you looked up to her.
"Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N." You shook her hand and were surprised to feel a tight grip. You quickly realized how strong Carol was as you checked out the definition and muscles on her arms. "May I?" Carol pointed to the seat to the left of you. "Go ahead." You said with a smile that Carol reciprocated.
Carol also chose this seat so you'd be facing away from the bitch that left you alone.
You turned away from the bar and towards Carol. "How do you know the couple hosting?" Carol asked. "I don't. My date does."
That made sense. Since Carol noticed you hours earlier, she couldn't figure out how you wound up at a place like this. Surrounded by people whose hands were never clean. Politicians and models. Wall Street bros and CEO's. You stuck outâa ray of innocence and good radiated from you. Kind hearted.
Carol knew it to be true when she saw how awful your date treated you.
"Ah," Carol said as she lifted the glass and took a sip of the golden bubbles. "I hope you don't mind me asking... Who is she? Your date?" Carol set her glass down and looked at you in the eyes. "Oh, her name is-"
"Oh no, I'm sorry." Carol stopped you as she reached a hand out to your arm. "I meant, who is she to you."
It felt like a trick question, like Carol knew the truth.
Carol kept her fingers resting on your arm while waiting for your eyes to meet hers. "She's..."
You sighed.
Carol patted your arm. "Think about it." She removed her touch from you, and you missed her warm fingers.
You watched as they wrapped around the glass of champagne. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not supposed to be here," Carol spoke up with a shrug.
"You're not?" Carol watched your forehead crease when you didn't believe her. "No. I'm here doing a favor for a friend." You looked around the room, and like Carol did with you earlier, you couldn't believe someone like her could be here. "What friend?" You asked, making Carol smile.
"The King of Asgard, Valkyrie." She said casually without hesitation.
"Oh!" You said, surprised and bewildered. "I still have yet to visit New Asgard.." You really have been meaning to, but it's not like money grows on trees for you. "I hear it's lovely."
"It is," Carol replies. "So.." Carol leans closer. "Are you done thinking about my question from earlier? What is she..." Carol gestures to the woman you came here with. "..to you. Because she sure as hell isn't your girlfriend."
You followed Carol's eyes and saw the woman kissing the neck of a man you wouldn't give the time of day.
You turned back and looked at Carol.
You sighed and put both arms on the table in a defeated position. "I was her date for tonight, but no, I've never met her until two days prior when I was introduced by her team. I was hired to help clean up her image, but..." You looked back. "Looks like that's not happening."
Carol hummed. "So you're an escort?"
"Blunt, but yes... that's one word for it." You replied. Carol leaned back into her chair and appreciated the honesty coming from you.
"How much did she pay you?"
You certainly weren't expecting that question, and you couldn't tell by the smirk Carol was hiding behind her glass if she was serious or not.
So you decided to forget about the girl you came with and play the game Carol was hopefully playing.
"Why? Think you can afford me?"
That made the blonde laugh. "I know I can." Her voice was lower as she spoke to you. "But I'm not looking to pay. I want you if you want to come along."
That made something in your stomach twirl.
"And where would we go?"
"Wherever you want. But hopefully far away from here."
You peeled your eyes away from the blonde and looked around the room. It was dreadful and boring. This was presented as a Christmas gala, but it was nothing more than a night to fuck and make business deals to everyone else but you.
You were here for a job, but you were clearly left to your own devices.
Until Carol showed up.
"Okay." You said as you turned back to the blonde and nodded. "Let's get out of here."
Carol's eyes lit up. She watched you stand up and down your glass of champagne before extending your hand to her. Carol did the same with her glass before taking your hand. "Thank you." She smiled as she rose to her feet. "No, thank you!"
Carol led you out of the grand mansion you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of and to the valet kiosk. Carol handed the greying man a ticket stub and wrapped her arm around you as you two waited for his return.
"Is this okay?" She asked, forcing you to look up to her eyes. "Me... touching you? Holding you?" You nodded. "It's great." Carol smiled. "Good to know."
Carol felt your skin become scattered with goosebumps. She thought it might've been from the cold wind in the air, but if asked, you would've been honest and told her it was because of herâthe blonde with her hand moving up and down your arm.
She smiled.
You two stood in silence, accepting the comfort the other one brought when the valet pulled up in a black sports car that would never be in your tax bracket.
"What a beautiful car, Miss. Please enjoy your evening." The man said to Caol as he handed her the keys before scurrying away.
She simply smirked and moved her arm from around you to your arm closest to her. "Shall we?" You nodded and let Carol lead you to the passenger door. She opened it for you and let go of you as you entered.
She watched the slit of your dress rise as you sat down in the brown leather seat. Her eyes then traveled down to your legs and the heels that went perfectly with your dress. "Good?" She then asked. "Good." You replied before Carol smiled and closed the door.
You watched her move around the front of the car and slide into the driver's seat. The seat adjusted to her, and you watched the steering wheel move to compliment her. "Wow." Carol turned to your voice.
"Kind of a lot, right?" You shrugged and looked into her blue eyes. "It's kinda cool." You tried to be nonchalant, but you were in awe of everything, and Carol knew it.
Carol hit some buttons on the display in the middle and found a radio station playing a pop hit.
Olivia Rodrigo specifically.
The music was kept at a lower volume as Carol waited for you to buckle up. "Safety first, sweetheart." She said, making your stomach flip at the pet name. "Sorry." You mumbled as your cheeks grew red, and Carol buckled herself up before turning up the heat and placing the car in drive.
"You hungry?" Carol hadn't eaten any of the fancy shit the gala was offering. It was all themed around the holiday, and she knew for a fact that you hadn't had a single bite.
You wanted to lie, but with Carol asking in a honey-dripping tone, and one look at her made you nod. "Starving." You said.
However, food wasn't the first thing you were thinking about eating.
Carol smirked as if she could read your mind.
She removed her right hand from the steering wheel and placed it on your thigh as she kept her eyes on the road. The speed of the car picking up.
Her palms on your skin burned with waves of pleasure. "I'll find somewhere for us," Carol said, making you nod. Carol briefly looked over at you and smiled.
She was loving the game that was being played.
In addition, she loved the touch of you. The feeling of your goosebumps spreading across your body every time her fingers lifted up and down your soft, ample skin.
She was also enjoying youâyour company.
Carol never got to do stuff like this.
But she was making the most of tonight.
"Is this still okay?" Carol asked as her hand moved slightly up your thigh. Pushing your dress up. "Yes." You said as you buried a moan in your throat.
"Do I feel good? My touch against your body?" Carol asked as she turned her head to you. She watched your side profile nod and swallow before you parted your pink lips. "You feel so good, Carol."
Her blue eyes found the road again.
"Good, sweetheart." Carol patted your thigh and kept you wanting more. "You're doing so well for me."
You whimpered upon hearing the praises of a woman you just met. "Ah, here we go," Carol said, making you do your best to focus on what was worth pulling off the side of the road.
Surprised, you looked at Carol as she put the car in park.
Carol turned to you.
"What's wrong?" She unbuckled her seatbelt and brought a hand up to your face. Moving a hair behind your ear. "You said you were starving." You leaned into her touch ever so slightly and nodded. "I am."
"Then let's eat." Carol smiled and removed her touch from you again as she climbed out of the car.
You kept your eyes on Carol as she closed the door. You watched her pass in front of the neon 24/7 Diner sign before she made it to your passenger door. She opened it and quickly helped you out. "It's somehow gotten colder. Come on." Her hand and fingers became intertwined with yours as she pulled you to the front of the restaurant.
You two seated yourselves in a booth once you entered like a bunch of giggly teenagers.
There was only the waitstaff and three other patrons inside. You and Carol were obviously dressed the best.
"This definitely beats the Gala," Carol said, making you look up from your menu with a smile. "It does."
Carol placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hand. "Tell me something," Carol said with a teasing smirk. "Are you enjoying how the night has gone?"
You dropped your menu onto the table. "I'm loving it. Thank you."
Carol shook her head. "No, thank you." Her leg rubbed up against yours in a gentle manner. "Now, what are you thinking about having?" Carol's eyes found the menu again, but you stared straight ahead.
Carol knew it.
"They don't have me on the menu." You brushed your leg higher against Carol. "Shame. Because I'd love a taste."
You were bold, and you didn't know where it was coming from, but tonight, with Carol, you felt free. You weren't being paid to be someone else. You felt like a new person. Or maybe it was just you being yourself? Regardless, you loved it.
After a waitress came by, you and Carol Danvers ordered cheeseburgers with a basket of fries and a shake, to split, obviously.
The food was wonderful, and the flirting mixed in with conversation was even better.
The highlight might have been when you showed Carol that you could, in fact, tie a cherry stem into a knot in your mouth. You held it between your teeth with pride as Carol smirked at you and, without warning, connected your lips together. Her tongue swiping the stem out of your mouth and into hers.
When she smiled a few seconds later, the knot was undone, and Carol couldn't help but wink at you.
You felt your stomach flip again.
"Whenever you're ready to leave, we can," Carol said to you, only to earn a nod.
Carol laughed at that and stood up as she placed a stack of uncounted bills from her clutch.
"Okay, so maybe you could afford me for the night." You said, taking Carols' hand as you slid out of the booth. "I told you." She smugly replied as she led you out of the diner.
The cold air catching you off guard, but your grip on Carols' hand remained strong. "Come on." She squeezed your hand and bit back a smile before you two ended up on the driver's side of the car.
Carol held the key in her other hand.
"What?" You asked as Carol looked at your eyes. "You're just beautiful." The blonde said, moving her body to be pressed up against yours.
You stumbled a step back as you found your back up against Carols car.
"Is this still okay?" Carols breath was shaky as she held her lips dangerously close to yours.
In the neon glow of the diner sign, you nodded. "Just kiss me again." Carol held in a moan as she did what you asked. The softness of her lips landed on yours.
You pulled her body closer.
Her hands found your hips and squeezed them, making you squeal in delight. "Fuck Carol!" You laughed into Carols mouth.
"Oh, you're such a pretty girl," Carol replied in a hushed tone as she pushed her front up against you more. Feeling the tremble in your legs and warmth from your pussy.
But the sweetest bit was the taste of chocolate on your lips.
"I want you." You moaned into Carols ear.
Carol couldn't be happier. "I want you too." She kissed your neck, jaw, and lips again.
You bit your lips and looked up at her. "Let's go then." You turned around and pressed your ass against Carol and made a gesture for the car keys, but Carol smiled before laughing. "Oh, no, baby. I don't think so."
You tilted your head as you were still catching your breath. "And why is that?" You opened the car door and waited for Carol's answer.
That's when you watched Carol's hand curl and close around the key. Suddenly, her hand began to glow bright and orange. You couldn't believe what you were seeing, and when she opened her hand again, the key was nothing but a pile.
You waited for an answer.
"Remember that story I told you? About the pilot?"
Carol tilted her hand, and you both watched the remnants of the key fall to the asphalt.
You looked up to Carol and thought back to the story she told you across the booth earlier. "So it was you? You have powers?" Carol nodded and made her hands glow again. "What about your car?" You asked honestly.
"The car and cash were never mine." The glow from her hands faded as she stepped into space between your legs. "It was your awful heiress of a date."
Carol touched the top of your head and ran her hand down the side of your face. "I think you and I had a better time than you would with her." She purrs as she kisses your cheek. "Don't you think?"
You nod and move your lips to brush hers. "I do." You find Carol's hands and hold them. "I can work with this."
"Are you sure?"
Carol asks, even though both want this.
"Yes."
Carol kisses you and pulls you close. "Hold on to me." You wrap your arms tightly around Carol's body, and slowly, you feel your feet leave the ground. "Keep your eyes on me," Carol said, and when you looked at her, you saw that her dress had changed into a suit.
One a superhero would wear.
"You brought us back..." You whispered into the space between the two of you. She heard you.
You watched as Carol glowed brighter, and the speed at which you two were flying increased.
_
You and Carol slept together that night, and you remember the feeling of warmth when you woke up next to her and a cat named Goose in the bed on her spaceship.
That was five months ago, and as you watch Carol fly down to a planet below, you can't help but smile.
You weren't alone.
dividers by @/benkeibear
#carol danvers x you#captain marvel x reader#carol danvers imagine#carol danvers top#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers#post endgame#carol danvers fanfiction#carol danvers is soft#goose gets a new mom#goose the cat#carol danvers fluff#carol danvers x female reader#fluff#diner dates#Carol Danvers flies with you#cutie pie carol#carol danvers fic#female reader x captain marvel#female reader x carol danvers#female reader#fem reader#x reader#merry christmas
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