A bunch of one shots and imagines for the MCU I've created. They have varying lengths, characters, fluff, and pronouns used (usually she/her) so I'll list them at the beginning of each story!
Characters used (some more often than others):
Steve Roge...
POV: A firework show starts at a party hosted by Stark. You try to hold it together, but it gets to be too much for you. Yelena's the only one who notices.
I know this is late for New Years, but I've had some family stuff to deal with as of late. Please forgive me.Also excuse the lazy writing. I've been stressed out about a lot lately.
Last note! I took a short break from writing in general (I needed to clear my head) so this is obviously very late. I'm sorry. I do have parts lined up to publish but I haven't decided if I'm going to schedule them individually over a couple weeks, or just do a giant content dump for you, let me know what you guys would prefer. Some of them are for the series's (is that right?) I have going on at the moment though, so I'll post those individually.
***WARNINGS: PTSD, I'm not focusing on it because trauma, but it's there*** Word Count: 1,830 Type: Idk, up to you Reader Pronouns: She/her
Your outfit:
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You sat on one of the couches, drinking champagne. It's New Year's Eve, it's the one time of the year you could drink champagne without making it seem like you're some arrogant rich person with nothing else to do. Maybe that's why Tony always had some lying around the place.
You took a sip and observed. You'd always hated the parties, but went for your friends and teammates. At this point they were more like family to you. Ever since you went through terrigenesis, they'd taken you in and trained you to be like them. Your powers, hydrokenisis, made it easy for you to fit in, but at the same time they made it easy to stand out. It also wasn't great that you'd been out of control for the first few months of having the abilities, and you may or may not have caused some serious tsunamis and floods. Worldwide.
Nat sidled into the seat beside you, drink in her hand. You glanced at her and smiled before looking back down at your lap. Out of the corner of your eye you could see her frown slightly. "What's up with you, sexy?" "Oh shush." "I'm serious! You look like Rihanna but like, 12 times hotter." "Is that even possible?" "Apparently."
You chuckled and sipped on your drink, finishing it off before setting the flute down on the table next to you. You looked over at her and smiled. God, she was drunk. She was a sloppy drunk, always spilling secrets- or her drink- everywhere. If you were near her, you were getting the scoop on everything and everyone you knew. "Soooo, any resolutions?" "Don't cause mass flooding." "Come onnn, that was an accident." "I still feel guilty." "Ah well, what about New Years kisses?" "Natasha Romanoff!" "What? You need some action. And I know of some pretty hot people. I mean like, scale of 1-10, definitely 11's, actually, 12's."
You shook your head smiling. She was always trying to get you with someone. Either a teammate or some random person she'd met while getting coffee, snapping their picture and sending them to you for your thoughts. Natasha was a great wingman sober, but when she was drunk she became a nightmarish one.
