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pandapetals · 2 months ago

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New Year's Eve

You and Logan broke up. Now you are alone at a New Year's Eve party with Jean and Scott until Logan shows up.

logan howlett x fem!reader - exes, past relationship but you broke up, no reader description, no y/n used, confessions, angst, kissing, inspired by when harry met sally because i live, breath and sleep that movie, jean and scott are married

a/n: sorry i haven't posted in like a week. wanted to take a little break. here's a cute, short one for new years. been working on stuff for professor logan but also some smutty ones...so happy new year!

divider credit: @enchanthings

Jean and Scott had insisted—practically dragged you out the door—that the New Year’s Eve party would be just what you needed. They’d promised laughter, music, and a fresh start, but now, standing in the corner of the crowded loft, you wondered if you’d ever believe them again. The room buzzed with chatter and bursts of laughter, but all you could hear was the soft clink of champagne glasses and the distant tick of the clock, marking time painfully cruelly.

You tugged at the hem of your dress, suddenly self-conscious. It had taken an hour to pick it out, another to do your makeup, and for what? To feel invisible in a room full of people paired off like they’d been scripted in some perfect rom-com? You sipped your champagne, warm now from sitting untouched in your hand too long, and scanned the crowd. Couples danced, heads close together, their smiles private and unshakable. Others huddled in cozy corners, sharing secrets you couldn’t hear over the music.

And then there was you. Alone.

It was suffocating, the kind of loneliness that didn’t just ache—it hollowed you out. You pushed through the sea of glitter and laughter, muttering apologies as you brushed against sequined shoulders until you reached the doorway. The air outside had to be better than this.

But before you could make your escape, Jean caught sight of you. Her hand wrapped around your arm, her brows pulling together in concern. “Hey, where are you going? It’s almost midnight.”

You hesitated, your shoulders sinking as the weight of it all threatened to crush you. “This is too much,” you admitted, your voice barely audible over the noise behind you. “Everyone’s here with someone, and I’m… alone. On New Year’s. Again.” You tried to laugh it off, but the crack in your voice betrayed you. “It’s pathetic.”

Scott appeared behind Jean, his usual serious scowl replaced with something softer. “Come on, it’s not that bad,” he said. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll kiss you at midnight. Jean won’t mind.”

Jean rolled her eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “What Scott means is, you don’t need to kiss anyone. It’s just a silly tradition.”

“Says the happily married couple,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone light but failing miserably. The words felt sharp, even as they left your lips. You looked away, blinking back the sting in your eyes. You didn’t want them to see you like this—not here, not tonight.

You turned toward the door again, ready to leave the whole glittering mess of a party behind. But then, over the sound of the countdown starting from somewhere deep in the room—Ten! Nine! Eight!—you heard it. Your name.

You froze, heart pounding, sure you must have imagined it. But then it became louder this time, cutting through the crowd like a lifeline.

“Hey! Wait—wait, stop! I need to—”

You turned, and there he was. Logan. Standing in the middle of the room, slightly out of breath, his dark hair sticking up in every possible direction, like he’d run all the way here. He wasn’t dressed for the occasion—far from it. His sweatpants were rumpled, his hoodie looked like it had seen better days, and his sneakers were splattered with mud. A sharp contrast to the sharp suits and sequins around him. But none of it mattered. Not when his eyes locked onto yours like you were the only person in the room.

Your breath hitched, and for a second, you thought your heart might stop.

“Logan, what are you—?” The words stumbled out, but he was already walking toward you, weaving through the crowd like nothing else existed but you.

“I just… I had to see you,” Logan said as he came closer, his voice rough.

The countdown blared louder now—Three! Two!—but Logan’s eyes never left yours. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket as if trying to steady himself, but his voice was unwavering. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt you. But when I thought about starting a new year, all I could think was… I don’t want to start it without you. I don’t want to spend any year without you.”

One! The crowd erupted into cheers and noisemakers, the room exploding with confetti and champagne, but everything else blurred. Logan took a step closer, his voice soft, but urgent.

“You’re it for me. And I’ll spend every day proving it if you’ll let me.”

Your breath hitched, your chest rising and falling in uneven waves as his words settled over you. For a moment, you could only stare at him, a thousand emotions colliding in your chest—anger, hurt, longing, and something softer, warmer, breaking through the cracks. You shook your head slowly, your lips parting as you struggled to find the right words.

“That’s just like you, Logan,” you said finally, your voice unsteady, laced with equal parts frustration and disbelief. “To say things like that… and make it impossible for me to hate you.”

His lips curved upward just slightly, a flicker of hope in the storm of his expression. “You don’t hate me—”

“No,” you cut in, your voice trembling. “I don’t. But I tried to. God, Logan, I tried. Do you have any idea how hard I tried to move on?” Your eyes burned as the tears you’d held back all night finally broke free, streaking hot down your cheeks. “But I couldn’t. Because no matter how hard I tried to tell myself it was over, no matter how many times I told myself I deserved better, all I could think about was you.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He stepped closer, his movements careful, as if afraid you might shatter if he came too close too quickly. His eyes searched yours, wide and unguarded, every ounce of his usual bravado stripped away.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and pleading. “Please. I came here tonight because—” He hesitated, running a hand through his already wild hair, the words catching in his throat. But then he looked at you again, and his expression shifted—steady now, sure, like a man who had decided to bare his heart no matter the cost.

“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone,” he said, each word landing like a weight between you, “you want the rest of your life to start now.”

The room seemed to tilt, the noise of the party fading into nothing but a distant hum. You could still hear the laughter, the music, the faint clinking of glasses, but it all felt so far away. All you could focus on was Logan—his face open and earnest, his hands balled into fists at his sides like he was holding himself together by sheer willpower.

“You broke my heart,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Do you know how hard it is to put yourself back together after something like that?”

Logan nodded, his gaze unwavering. “I know,” he said softly. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me. I swear to God, I’ll never hurt you like that again. I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me again.”

Your chest ached the weight of everything unsaid pressing against your ribs. You wanted to believe him. You did believe him. But the fear was still there, clinging to you like a shadow. “How do I know this isn’t just another promise you can’t keep?”

Logan took another step closer, close enough now that you could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he reached for yours. He didn’t take them, not yet, but he held them just inches from yours, his fingers hovering like he was waiting for permission.

“Because this isn’t a promise,” he said, his voice steady now, resolute. “This is me telling you the truth. You’re it for me. You’ve always been it for me. And I’m not going to let you go again, not without a fight. I’ll fight for you every damn day if I have to.”

The tears spilled faster now, your shoulders shaking as the last of your resolve crumbled. You didn’t want to fight him anymore—not when every part of you ached to close the distance between you, to let yourself believe in the possibility of something new, something real. Slowly, tentatively, you reached for his hands, your fingers brushing his.

“I don’t know if I can just forget everything that happened,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan shook his head, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m not asking you to forget,” he said. “I’m asking you to let me try to make it right. I want to show you that I can be the man you deserve. And if it takes me the rest of my life to prove that to you, then so be it.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your lips trembling as you looked up at him. “You’re such an idiot,” you said, the words soft, fond, and full of emotion.

He grinned then, his first real smile of the night, and it lit up his entire face. “Yeah, well, I’m your idiot.”

You took the last step, closing the space between you as you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.

Logan let out a breath, his arms coming around you like he never wanted to let go. “Does this mean we’re starting the year together?” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your tears mixing with a soft, tremulous smile. “Yeah,” you said, your voice breaking but full of certainty. “It does.”

Gently you pulled him down for a kiss as the sound of the countdown faded into the background, and the cheers of the crowd blurred into nothing. “Happy New Year, sweetheart,” Logan whispered against your lips.

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