#new years eve fic

[lees-chaotic-brain]

i want to tell megumi hes the loml

Yes! Omg this is literally so cute I'm in love. @kasumitenbaz i'm willing to bet you'll like this :)

CW: None! fluff, mentions of past trauma I guess, comedic mentions of nudity, crack

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After everything that happened since you joined Jujutsu Tech, you finally had time to relax and enjoy spending time with Megumi. After all, it was New Year’s eve and there was nowhere you would rather be than cuddled up with your boyfriend in his dorm. 

Watching the snow fall outside his window, you contemplated the events of the past year, all the trauma and fear you had endured and overcome together.

Suddenly becoming emotional, you turned in his arms and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“Mmph?”

Your sleepy boyfriend inquisitively lifted his head from the pillow and readjusted so the position was more comfortable for you.

“What’s up?”

You snuggle closer to him and smile against his neck.

“I was just thinking about how grateful I am that we can just cuddle like this together. That we made it through, and now we’re stronger than ever.”

Megumi was silent for a moment before responding.

“What made you think about that all of a sudden?”

You can feel the deep rumble of his voice against your cheek.

“I’m not sure. I guess I was just reminiscing about everything that happened this year. And I don’t know, I’m just really happy right now.”

You squirm in his grasp until you manage to pull away far enough to give him a cheesy grin.

His eyes soften as he tucks you firmly against him.

“‘M grateful too.”

He mumbles, before burying his face in your hair and tightening his hold on you. 

“Now stop being all cheesy and philosophical and let me nap. You know that Itadori, Nobara, and Gojo are going to make us stay up all night celebrating with them.”

You chuckle, and comply, letting him use you as his own personal teddy bear for a few minutes before you speak again.

“Hey Megs?”

“Hmm?”

He makes a vague grumpy sound.

“You know that you’re the love of my life, right?”

Silence. 

“Megs?”

Still no response.

“Did you hear me? I said that you were-”

“I heard you the first time!”

He bursts out, effectively cutting you off.

“Hey, what's wrong?”

You forcibly pry him off you to take a look at his face, and to your delight and his mortification, his face is cherry red.

“Babe! Are you blushing?!”

“NO.”

He denies it and covers his face with a pillow.

“Of course I’m not. But you can’t just say stuff like that out of the blue! Give me a little warning at least.”

Giggling you yank the pillow out of his grasp and cup his flaming cheeks in your hands.

“Don’t hide your face from me.”

You exaggeratedly plant loud kisses on each side of his crimson face and coo at him.

“Aw, look at how cute my boyfriend is. He’s getting all red just because I told him he’s the love of my life-”

“STOP.”

He grabs you and shoves your face against his chest, cutting your voice off. Tangling his legs with yours, he pulls you up a bit so he can press his face into the crook of his neck. Inhaling deeply, he takes deep calming breaths and enjoys your unique mix of scents that makes him feel at home.

You sit quietly, sensing that he needed a moment to process what you had just said. Sure enough, after about thirty seconds he speaks.

“You know, you’re the love of my life too.”

You can’t stop the massive grin that spreads across your face.

“Megs I-”

“WAKEY WAKEY!!”

Gojo, Nobara, and Itadori burst into the room screaming. Nobara flips on the lights, Gojo tears the blankets off the two of you, and Itadori bangs pots together.

“IT’S TIME TO WATCH FIREWORKS AND CELEBRATE!!!”

Spluttering, your boyfriend gives everyone in the room (other than you) death stares as he tries to protect you from the cold that seeped in in the absence of your blanket.

“Get out! What is wrong with you guys? What-What if we were naked?!”

He blurted, unable to come up with anything else. The room fell into silence.

Then everyone (including you this time) burst into laughter.

“Seriously Megs???”

You wheeze out between peals of laughter.

“What if we were naked?!”

He just sullenly retrieved the blankets and burrowed under them, yanking you under with him.

As he valiantly fought off the three lunatics from ripping the two of you out of your blanket cocoon, you couldn’t help but laugh.

Yes, he truly was the love of your life.

[braverytattoos]

Serendipitous Symphony by braverytattoos ---------------------

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Harry/Louis Length: 8 Chapters (12k words)

---------------------

Louis was a university student in London, England. His goals of being a literary legend encompassed his mind day and night, that was until on a random night out on New Years Eve. Louis' life journey would take a drastic turn when he meets pop-sensation Harry Styles.

(beautiful title art by @freelouisankles)

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay this is the last of the Houston fics I'm making a moodboard for, so sorry, @logicheartsoul, you're being tagged one last time because I appreciated the suggestion 🤣 Here's a moodboard for Kiss Me, Flapper Boy, a fic about Sam and Bucky meeting at a New Years' Eve Party Old Man Steve hosts before going on an adventure out on the town together! Enjoy! 🥰

[letthemusicmoveyou28]

I Bet We Fall In Love (Like Every Other New Year)

Rating: Explicit (5.9k)

“See the thing is, I’m in a bit of a dilemma and I was hoping you might be able to use some of your bartender wisdom to help me out.”

Louis nods in understanding. “Ahhh, yes what is your dilemma young lad?”

Harry runs his fingertip along the edge of the bar. “Well the thing is, I don’t have anyone to kiss at midnight.”

(Or the one where bartender Louis gets a celebrity New Year's Eve kiss, a very surprising tip, and maybe just maybe a new love).

Title from New Year by Petrie

Read on AO3!

This is a repost from a few years ago, but tis the season :)

[hoffmannwrites]

On My List

1  - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 + 1 Masterlist

Author’s Note: Hello, little gay people in my phone!! This is probably my favorite part so far just because it's like so very on brand for them and also we get a little bit of Steve being eye candy and Eddie being a sexy mechanic and I just love them!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Description: 5 Times Steve and Eddie kiss as friends, and one time they don't.

Warnings/Tags: Everyone lives, Nobody dies, 5+1, Kissing, Fluff, Idiots to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, some pretty brief mentions for drinking, smoking, uhhh they're gay your honor, no beta we die like Barb, very vague sexy talk (like pg-13 mention of pulling the padge), call him Daddy but in a friendly way ya know, let me know if I missed anything?

Drive

Wayne had a saying while Eddie was growing up. Well, actually, Wayne had a lot of sayings. But one of Eddie’s favorites was “first time is an accident, second time is a coincidence, and third time is a hobby”. For weeks, Eddie ponders what a fourth time is. Because him and Steve have had their mouths on each other four times now and he had no goddamn idea what that meant. Obviously, Steve wasn’t, like, homophobic. He was Robin’s biggest support and he’s never freaked out after any of the times he and Eddie…But the metal head can’t help but wonder what that means. He’s never actually come out or said anything even remotely close to liking a boy. Straight until proven guilty, Eddie liked to believe. Had his heart toyed with by experimenting and down-low boys too many times to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. So Eddie doesn’t say anything- convinces himself that this is just Harrington being comfortable in his masculinity and sexuality. Self-assured enough to know that kissing his guy friend every once in a while isn’t gay, it’s just dudes being bros.

And they were bros! So much so that when Steve’s BMW breaks down around the corner from his own home, that Eddie is the person he calls to help. Steve jogs the block and a half back home and calls two people in quick succession. First is Robin, to let her know that he can’t make it in because something is wrong with his car (“Did you get a flat? Why don’t you know how to fix a flat?” “No, Robs. It’s not that. Yes, I’m sure. No really, I can’t just drive it anyway because it’s fucking smoking.”) Robin agrees to cover for him, but makes the vague threat of him owing her big time. They both know it’s unnecessary because he would do anything for her in a heartbeat regardless.

Second, he calls Eddie. Because Eddie knows about cars. If he can hot-wire a trailer, he can take a look at a smoking BMW. So Eddie drives over and meets Steve around the corner, where he’s sitting on the curb enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. He’s practically sunbathing in his stupid tight acid wash jeans and white tee with the sleeves cuffed and sun glasses on, smoking a cigarette. He looks like an 80’s James Dean but with somehow better hair, Eddie thinks. He rolls down the window of the van and shouts out “Hey! I’m looking for a damsel in distress? About yea high, prettiest hazel eyes you’ve ever seen, and no clue how cars work?”

“Ha-Ha, you’re hilarious, Munson,” Steve replies dryly, as Eddie parks the van right in front of the BMW on the side of the road. He gets out and walks over to the beemer to pop the hood. "So you really think I have pretty eyes?" Steve asks while Eddie sets up the hood strut. But Eddie just clears his throat and hopes the blush on his cheeks isn't noticeable. “So you said it was smoking?” He inquires.

“Yeah it just started to smoke, so I panicked and pulled over immediately,” Harrington explains. “Ah,” Eddie nods in acknowledgement. “Good thing too. I’ve got good news and bad news. Bad news is, this” he says dramatically while pulling out a thin black belt from under the hood into the air, complete with frayed ends, “is not supposed to look like that.” Steve’s eyes go wide, automatically freaking out a little because that looks really bad. But before he can completely shit himself, Eddie continues. “Good news is, I can fix it and it’ll only take me about an hour once we get the part.”

“Oh thank Jesus,” Steve let’s out the breath he was holding.

“Not Jesus. Just little ol' me,” smiles Eddie. “However I have been told the resemblance is striking. I think it’s the hair.” He gestures to the van. “Hop in, let’s go get Daddy a new belt, huh?” He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s face heats up at the nickname, but chalks it up to regular embarrassment. Once they’re both in the car and Steve is sure he locked the beemer for the 4th time, they’re on their way to the nearest Northern Automotive. Eddie doesn’t even blast the radio too loud or anything. “Hey, do you need to me to drop you off? Like you were obviously going somewhere so, I can take you if you need and then just fix it on my own,” Eddie offers, realizing this is probably not how Steve wants to spend his day.

“Oh. No. I already called out of work and it’s a Wednesday, so it’s gonna be dead anyway. Honestly, I could use the break and it’s goddamn gorgeous out today, so I don’t mind. Thanks for asking, though. Are you sure you’re okay spending the day fixing my car?” Steve asks, suddenly aware that he never really asked Eddie to fix it, just take a look and the metal head just lept into action.

“Oh yeah, it’s fine. I was actually super busy smoking weed by myself, jerking off, and watching M.A.S.H. reruns, but it’s alright I guess I can reschedule those super important plans,” Eddie dramatically sighs. Steve smiles wide. “Good to know that you jerk off before watching M.A.S.H. I’d be totally concerned if that was what got you going.”

“Actually, Stevie, I’ll have you know that Alan Alda gets me all kinds of hot and bothered, thank you very much.” 

By the time they have arrived back at the car, the sun is hot in the middle of the sky. They got the new belt needed and some Burger King and a case of beer on their way back too, at Steve’s insistence. He tried to offer Eddie money for fixing the car, but the makeshift mechanic refused. “You literally saved my life. I can fix your car,” he had said, blankly, but Steve decided he could at least feed him. Eddie had scarfed down his Whopper on the way back, and got started on the car immediately.

Steve tried to be helpful, handing over a wrench or a beer every now and then. He even gave Eddie a hair tie to put up all those beautiful curls. Mostly though, Steve just watched. Watched Eddie’s arms flex around metal. Watched his tongue stuck between his teeth while he looked at his work in concentration. Watched as his hairline dripped a fine line of sweat down the side of his neck, and disappeared under the collar of his Pantera t-shirt. Watched his ass and that stupid black hanky in his left pocket. Steve just watched Eddie work and thought about how he could get used to seeing the older man sweaty and dirty, as long as he wasn’t bleeding out like that time Steve saw him so filthy. Sure, they talked too, but Steve could barely pay attention to the conversation because he was so focused on just how fucking pretty Eddie looked.

Eventually, the belt was fixed and Eddie slammed down the hood, startling Steve out of his very unholy reverie about all the other ways to make Eddie sweat. “Alright, Big Boy. Let’s give her a test, make sure she starts up for ya nice, and drive her around the block a few times.” Steve jumped up from his spot on the curb and hopped in the drivers seat, put the key in the ignition and turned.

“Beautiful!” Eddie practically shouted, jumping in the passengers side as the car sprang to life perfectly. “Now let’s drive her around a little, make sure she’s all set.” Steve did as he was told and took the car around the neighborhood in complete silence, as Eddie made sure everything sounded, looked, and even smelled correct (“If it sounded wrong, I’d know it. If it smelled wrong, I’d know it. And if it started smoking again, I’d definitely know it,” he insisted).

They pulled back over to where Eddie’s van was. “Man, you have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Steve said when they were parked. “Seriously, I could kiss you right now.”

“Alright, if you insist,” Eddie replied with a theatrical eye roll. He pursed his lips and shut his eyes comically, expecting Steve to laugh him off and shove him away. Instead he felt two soft hands grab the side of his face and an even softer pair of lips on his own. And for just a second, in the silence of Steve Harrington’s BMW, Eddie felt like he was melting way more than he had standing out in the sun. Steve pulled away, hands still on his friends face. “You wouldn’t let me pay you, so that’ll have to do.”

You’d think that after weeks of overthinking the last four times this had happened that Eddie would have had anything worth while to say, that he would have seized the moment and asked Harrington just what the fuck was going on in his head. But he was Eddie Munson. So of course, he made a joke out of it. “I’m not sure what the exchange rate is on that right now, but I think we’re even,” he said feigning confidence, shifting his eyes as far away from Steve’s as possible, and scrambling out of the car as quickly as he could all while trying to not look suspicious. He held the door open and bid Steve good bye, “I won’t tell Robin that you can totally go to work now, by the way. See ya around, sweets.” And with that, Eddie was in his van and speeding away, blasting the radio by the time he got to the end of the block.

Steve had intended on asking Eddie to come back to his house for a while and maybe, finally, get somewhere with the metal head, after dancing around each other for so long, thought he had sealed it with today’s kiss. But Eddie had left so abruptly, that Steve didn’t even get the chance. Obviously, Eddie was totally freaked out by Harrington’s forwardness. He sighed loudly and cursed to himself, driving to Family Video anyway because he needed to talk to Robin. 

A/N:

Steve's car is a 1983 BMW 733i in Burgendrot-Metallic.

Apparently, the thing that holds up a cars hood is called a few things, mainly a hood prop or hood strut. From what I could find, BMW uses the phrase hood strut.

Also apparently, only a BMW motorcycle is called a Beemer, while the cars are "bimmers". But as both a person who has never heard that before, and a German speaker, I have decided that is fucking stupid and I won't be calling it that.

Once again, I don’t know shit about fuck about cars. I only know this because one time my serpentine belt broke. It’s a pretty quick fix if you know what you’re doing (allegedly) and you can drive short distances with a broken belt, but it’s not recommended. I have no idea if Steve’s car would be as easy to fix as mine was. Hell, his model might not even have a serpentine belt. Don’t know, don’t really care. I’m a fanfiction writer, not a mechanic. 

Northern Automotive was the most popular auto parts store in 1988 according to a news article I found on Reddit. I have never heard of this store, have no idea if they were in Indiana at the time (I mean, they should have been. Indiana is pretty fuckin Northern if you ask me) , and it looks like they either went out of business or rebranded to North Auto Parts at some point. Who’s to say? 

M.A.S.H. went off air in 1983, after 11 seasons in as many years. It’s a Korean War drama/comedy and it is one of the most amazing and heartfelt shows ever made. Eddie grew up watching it with Wayne and now he watches the reruns whenever they're on. I strongly recommend you watch it. 

I asked my mom what food she ate in the 80s. She said BK (like enthusiastically, too). Here we are. 

[softsnzstuff]

sorry you're not feeling great :( sending you my best!

cute new years prompt could be drunk sneezy eddie at a NYE party. too wasted to cover properly and steve trying to control him lol but unfirtunately he gets sneezed on during their kiss at midnight

I love this! Have a short little ficlet set in modern day Streamer AU. -KB

*****

Regardless of whatever anyone else said, Eddie was having a great time. He and Steve were hosting a small New Years Eve party at their apartment with Robin, Nancy, Chrissy, Jonathan, and the Corroded Coffin guys.

Eddie couldn’t deny liking a good buzz, but New Years Eve was one of few occasions where he had an excuse to drink a little more than usual. Presently, he had on gold glitter 2023 glasses and one of those shiny disposable top hats.

Dick Clarke’s New Years Rockin Eve was on the tv in the background and Eddie was dancing to Harry Styles’ As it Was with his fourth glass of champagne in hand.

“Wow, who knew it only took some champagne for the party animal to be unleashed!” Chrissy teased as she danced with him in the boys’ living room.

“What’re you talkin’bout Chris? I’m iiKSHiew! I’m always a party ehhh animal- ETSHuhew! SNFF”

Eddie had spent the better part of the night sneezing - drinking was one of those things where the buzz also went to his nose. Unfortunately for his guests, his ability to cover decreased as the night progressed.

“Eddie! C’mere!” Robin, also tipsy, was standing on the couch pulling the dancing man closer to her as she pressed a tissue to his nose. “Take this. Just hold onto it yeah?”

Eddie took another sip of his champagne and held the tissue in the other hand. He felt his nose start to tickle, so he held the tissue and champagne over his head and sneezed openly at the ground.

“H’iixxTCH! N’gxtCHU! H’etSCHiew!”

“What are you doing, you dummy??” Robin exclaimed, as he sneezed on everything BUT the tissue.

He looked up at her with glazed eyes. “Didn’ wanna s’deeze on it.”

He seemed genuinely confused. Gareth put an arm around him and laughed.

“You dumbass. That’s literally what that’s for.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and playfully shoved Gareth off him as he danced away over to Steve.

It was a little over one minute to midnight and everyone was getting ready for the big moment.

Steve was in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Eddie came over, doing a drunken party dance as he did. The older man put a hand on the doorframe next to Steve’s head.

“Hey there handsome. What’s on your mind?”

Steve chuckled, holding his own glass of champagne. “I’m thinking that you had too much to drink, sneezy.”

Eddie feigned a gasp, bringing a hand to his chest dramatically.

“I didn’t know we resorted to name calling, Steven,” he joked, “and to think I was going to ask you to be my new years kiss.”

“I’m your boyfriend Eddie, you don’t have to ask me.” Steve laughed.

“Well, we’ve got-” Eddie glanced at the tv where the ball was dropping slowly, “20 seconds left. I wanted to be polite.”

Steve chuckled, “Okay Eddie, I’ll be your New years kiss.”

They turned their attention back to the party where everyone was counting down.

10…9…8…7….6…5…4…3…2…1…

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

With the traditional new years song playing in the background, Steve leaned in and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. Despite being wasted, he had to admit, Eddie was still a good kisser.

He was lost in thought when Eddie simultaneously jerked forward and pulled away. Steve barely had time to register what happened.

“N’Gtch! Tsch’iew! H’EKSHiew! Fuck! Sorry Steve!”

Eddie had sneezed as he pulled away from the kiss, continuing to sneeze at the floor as he turned away from his partner.

Everyone was giggling at the spectacle, Robin coming to tease Steve and wipe him off with a napkin.

Chrissy walked over to her longtime friend, rubbing a hand on his back.

“Okay you,” she said, slipping the champagne glass out of his hand, “You’re cut off for the night.”

[matsinko]

title: bet on love pairing(s): iwaoi, minor matsuhana rating: t summary:

It starts with four friends, an article, and a bet and ends with far more than Oikawa ever anticipated.

written for the December Greatest Decoy Challenge as a gift for @maroonedpunk

>> read on ao3 <<

[aut189]

Happy 2024 everybody!!

[angst-fairygodmother]

Hi! I'm so sorry this is late but if you're still taking requests, please could I request "new years kiss" with Derek and Ryne? I hope you are doing well 💖

A/N: Never too late darling. I take winter prompts as long as there's a chance of snow. 😊 Barely there, but I made it out for New Year’s Eve somewhere! Word Count: 1599 Rating: G - jealousy, references to Bad Samaritan, references to injury

She wasn't his girl. He had to remind himself of that for what felt like the thousandth time tonight, as he felt the heat of jealousy creeping up his neck. Just because they flirted all the time, and they'd gone to the club and been real close didn't mean she couldn't be dancing with someone else now, in her tight little dress that hugged her in all the right places and drove him crazy. 

But he couldn't help it, any more than he could look away. It was like there was no one else at the party but Ryne. Ok, Ryne and the girl she was with, the one that wasn't him making her laugh - even far enough away that he couldn't actually hear it over the crowd he loved that laugh - and sliding an arm oh so casually around her shoulders. He knew that move, he'd used it on plenty of chicks before.

“Dude, quit staring,” Sean hissed in his ear, making him jump. Derek had been so distracted he hadn't even noticed the Irishman arrive. “It's getting weird, and since it's my cousin you're creeping on, I'm gonna have to kick your arse if it goes any longer.”

Derek scoffed. “You could try man.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Either make a move, or move on.” 

“I…can't man. I want to but it's just not the right time.” Derek shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging and hoping his best friend wouldn't ask him to explain, because he wasn't sure he could. 

Sean muttered something about him being a coward but let it go, grabbing two more beers from the bucket of ice on the table Derek was hovering by and returning to Riley somewhere in the crowd.

The countdown started. Ten.

Nine. Derek scooped a red solo cup of mystery punch and grimaced at the syrupy sweet smell wafting from it. 

Eight. He spotted Ryne and the other girl in the crowd again, and his stomach roiled with what he wished was just indigestion. 

Seven. For a brief second he thought she caught his eye in the crowd, looking past her dance partner, straight into his soul.

Six. He blinked and took a breath, steeling himself to go over and interrupt. 

Five. The moment passed and her attention turned back away from him.

Four. He sighed, shoulders sagging as he realized it was just an accident, if it had really happened at all.

Three. Ryne leaned in.

Two. Her pretty blonde companion leaned in.

One. Their lips met as people cheered and blew noisemakers or threw confetti. Derek grimaced and downed the punch in one swig, coughing as the alcohol burned.

Sean was right. He was a coward. And the punishment for cowardice was the girl he wished was his making out with someone else, and him ringing in the new year alone.

“What a goddamn idiot,” he muttered, pulling on his coat to go outside for a smoke. “Happy fucking New Year.” 

~

“Hey babe,” Derek grinned at her, patting the arm of the large plush chair he was sitting in, inviting her to come and sit beside him. He had been in the rehab facility long enough that the nurses had long given up on “discouraging” after-hour visits, especially on special occasions and he was glad of it. Now if only he could get Ryne to relax a bit more, it might almost feel like home.

“Big news,” he continued, not waiting for her. “Doc said I should get out of here on good behavior next year.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Ryne felt her heart drop, even as she forced a smile to match his own. Another year was a long time to be in a rehab facility, and even with the financial aid she’d been able to help them get, she didn’t think Derek and Bela could afford it. The donations from their mother’s church had dried up not long after the funerals, and there was no sign yet of when they could hope for a payout from the Valkenburg Trust (if there was even anything left of it after all the money laundering and fraud investigations, plus payouts to the families of the victims not so lucky as Derek or Katie). She had been quietly funneling as much money as she had toward it as well, but she wasn’t exactly making a lot, and soon her own loans and debts would come due. She wasn’t sure what would happen when their luck and money ran out, but there was no way it ended well for him, or his recovery.

“What’s the matter babe?” he asked, eyebrows dipping into a frown. She tried to find the positive in that alone: his facial paralysis was one of the things the doctors had told them at first would be among the hardest parts to recover from. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he had to transfer to an outpatient service (if they could find one for pennies) or work on exercises on his own.

“Nothing,” she lied. 

“Nuh-uh. I know that face, it’s worried face.” 

“It’s just…” she sighed, he was right, and he definitely knew her annoyingly well. “Next year? That’s…that’s a long time.”

Derek laughed, and she was instantly torn between the draw toward that warm, wonderful sound that she so recently worried she’d never hear again and the heat of embarrassment on her cheeks at the idea that he was laughing at her. 

“Did you forget what day today was?”

“I…haven’t really been paying attention.” 

“It’s six days after Christmas.”

“Yeah…and?”

“December 31. Next year is only a few hours away.”

Now she was sure that her cheeks were on fire, and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry, relief and shame at missing the obvious and frustration all piling up and threatening to escape her. And then Derek's arms were around her waist, and his lips were pressed to her hairline. 

“I’m sorry, Ryne,” he murmured. “I’m such an idiot. I thought you knew, and it was just supposed to be a joke. I didn��t mean to stress you out. I know how hard all this has been…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Derek,” she mumbled against his shoulder as she hugged him back. “I’m just…god this year has been a fucking disaster.”

Slowly he stepped backwards, half dragging them both and half dancing, never straying far from the furniture in case he needed the extra support but trying for a second to be normal again.

“Yeah, but we made it through.”

Ryne tilted her chin up at that, meeting his earnest gaze and smiling. “Yeah, we did.” She kissed him properly then, and even though it was a little early, it was probably already the new year somewhere, and it felt like just the luck they needed. 

~

“Sorsha’s finally down again,” Ryne sighed, dropping onto the couch beside her husband, “and Alma managed to sleep through the whole thing.”

“She takes after her Mama,” Derek laughed, kissing her temple. “It takes an earthquake to wake you both.”

“Well maybe if her Daddy didn’t snore so badly, I wouldn’t have had to develop a coping mechanism.”

“Bullshit! You slept like the dead–” he sighed and shook his head, “slept that deeply waaay before we got together.”

“And just how do you know what I slept like before?”

“Cus you did the first night I slept over. And I know I rocked your world but even I ain’t that good.” 

She rolled her eyes, and gave him a teasing shove. “Whatever. Did you pick a movie?”

“Star Wars, duh. If we start it in,” he paused to check his phone, “exactly two minutes and forty seven seconds, the Death Star blows up at precisely midnight.”

“God you are such a neeerrrd. I love you.” 

“Well we did Return of the King and threw the ring in the lava last year, and you picked that.”

“And?”

“How is that less nerdy?”

“I didn’t say it was. But I never had a cool guy persona.” 

“But you thought mine was sexy,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed.

“No accounting for taste, I guess,” she snuggled against closer. “I just got lucky it was only an act.” 

“Exactly…wait…”

“Don’t think too hard about it darling, you might sprain something. Just put your arm around me and play the movie.”

“As you wish,” he dropped his voice sultrily and whispered the words into her ear, making her shiver. 

Two hours later, the muted space station exploded and he turned to his wife, careful not to disturb the infant on his chest. Both girls had woken up during the movie, and rather than have to pause it and ruin their timing, the parents had decided to turn it into a silent film while they soothed the little ones back to sleep. But they had stirred each time they had tried to return them to their cribs, and eventually the whole family was cuddled on the couch, and all was calm.

So calm, he saw now, that he was the only one awake, even the aging cat dozing on the nearby dining room chair. 

“Ryne, baby? You gonna wake up for the New Year?” he whispered, nudging her gently. She groaned and buried her face into him, looking so adorable and cozy that he thought his heart might explode.

“Guess not,” he chuckled, bending awkwardly to kiss each of his three girls on the head with a “Happy new year” before turning off the TV and settling himself to sleep there too.

[oohbrother]

Here’s my serirei fic I wrote for new years!

The new year. A chance to reflect, and think of things to look forward to in the upcoming year. And the most important part of it is to have friends by your side to celebrate what’s to come and to reminisce about good times.

Reigen Arataka, however, did not see his New Year’s plans going this way. He figured he’d be spending it alone again.

That is until Serizawa asks him if he has any plans.

[porcelainmortal]

Started a new fic last night! Let's have a moment of June and Alex. (Including more than the one sentence for context!)

“Okay, gross. Don’t tell me anything more.” June snorts and Alex feels himself laugh a little, relieved that she’s forgiven him and still slightly shocked at the night’s turn of events. “Come on. I’m missing my party and you need to go talk to Henry.” June stands and holds out a hand for Alex, who grabs it and lets himself be pulled to his feet. He pulls her in for a hug, grateful that he’s taller; it’s the one place in which he feels he has a leg up on June. 

This week’s word is…

✨ HUG ✨

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[fuckingnumpty]

Choosing My Confessions ch. 16 - The obligatory new years eve chapter

Start here!

Nancy and Robin wanted to have a New Year’s Eve party at Nancy’s place.  Of all of them, Nancy had by far the nicest living situation.  Her aunt had moved to Boca the year before and let Nancy stay in her condo for a very affordable rent plus the cost of upkeep.  She said it was better than hiring a housekeeper or selling it to some tech yuppie. 

The condo was on the top floor of an older building on the west side.  Two bedrooms, one bath, and impeccably decorated in a style that was so uniquely Nancy.  That is to say it looked like it was owned by a 60-year-old business man who never met a dark stained wood he didn’t like; but it also had fairy lights, fresh flowers, and a One Direction throw blanket she got at 14 gracefully draped over the vintage couch like it was made of cashmere. Tonight she had put up silver streamers and laid out an assortment of charcuterie, alcohol, and noisemakers for the ball drop.  When Steve arrived, there were already several people in the apartment.  Nancy had of course invited Mike, Will, and El; but Chrissy, Gareth, Max, Lucas, and Dustin were also in attendance, as well as a man Steve was pretty sure he had never met before.

Mike was talking animatedly with Dustin and Lucas on the couch, while Max was chatting with El and Will (who were acting somehow more awkward than usual).  In the kitchen, Gareth and Chrissy were making heart eyes at each other and collecting cheeses onto their plates while listening to the mystery man tell a story.  Nancy was buzzing around trying to be a good host and talk with everyone while also indulging in her Type A urge to clean as she went.

In the corner was Robin talking to the man Steve had really been looking for.  Before he could approach them he was stopped by Nancy pulling him into a big hug, which was weird because she was not a hugger.  “Steve!  You’re here!” 

“Of course I’m here Nance.  It’s New Years.”

“Absolutely.  So…” Her voice got low and he understood the pretext for her hugging him.  “Someone is here that I need you to try not to be weird about.”

“What do you mean?”  Steve chuckled, thinking she was talking about the stranger hanging with Chrissy and Gareth.  That was until he heard the bathroom door click and a man with sandy blond hair emerged from inside.  Jonathan.  He held his breath.

“He was in town and Will asked if he could tag along.  I didn’t know he was coming until an hour ago.”

Steve was shaken but flashed her a smile.  “Calm down Nance.  It’s fine.”

She eyed him skeptically.  “Are you sure?  Because you were really cagey about him before he moved.”

He waved his hand.  “Ancient history.”  Then he took it one step further.  “Hey Jonathan!” He caught the man’s attention.

Jonathan politely smiled and walked across the living room towards him.  “Hey! Steve.”

Steve stuck his hand out and Jonathan shook it.  “Long time no see man.” He clapped him on the shoulder.  “What have you been up to?”  Steve saw Eddie look over at him and smirked.

“Oh, well, I guess normal stuff.  Went to school in California, tried out being an ace reporter, failed at being an ace reporter, became a paper pusher, and then got married.” He held up his left hand to flash a gold band.

“Oh shit. Congratulations!”

“Thanks man.  It’s been like 2 years but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Steve noticed Jonathan had empty hands and decided to be polite.  “I think I’m going to get a beer, can I get you one?” That would show Nancy how very cool he was.

“Oh no thanks.  I’m off alcohol right now.  My wife and I are trying for a baby and apparently drinking is bad for fertility.”  Jonathan replied.  “Anyways, what about you man?  How have you been?”

“Oh you know, Nance convinced me to move here with her and then dumped me for my best friend.” Nancy looked over at him and sneered. “And now I work in a salon.  I’m a hairstylist.”

“Super cool.  Except for the getting dumped thing.  But the rest… is cool.”

The silence was awkward as neither of them could come up with anything to say.

Even after all these years, they still didn’t click.

Steve finally decided to gracefully excuse himself. “Well, I’m gonna walk around.  It’s good to see you Jonathan.”

“Yeah! You too.”  Steve turned to go.  He definitely crushed that interaction.

Steve grabbed a drink and made his way over to Robin and Eddie who were whispering frantically but stopped promptly as he walked up.  “Whatcha talking about?” Steve asked playfully.

“Nothing!” Robin replied and then threw a wink at Eddie.  “I’m gonna go find my girlfriend.  Toodles!” She vanished into the bedroom where Nancy had been throwing everyone’s coats.  

“Toodles.” Steve half-heartedly called after her and Eddie broke out into giggles.  

He leaned in close to Steve.  God he looked so fucking good.  He was dressed in black button pearl snap open to just about his navel with skin tight black jeans and his regular Doc Marten boots.  His hair was swept back into a messy bun revealing the bat tattoo he had behind his left ear and a single silver hoop earring.  “So who was the guy?” He muttered into Steve’s ear.

“Jonathan?  That’s Will’s brother, we all went to school together back in Hawkins.”

Eddie shrugged.  “You seemed kinda weird around him.”

go see them be gay and angsty on Ao3

[masterofiodine]

capvers doodles yay

[starry-eyes-love]

Love Never Fails:  A New Year’s Eve Kiss

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Pairing:  Joel Miller x F!Reader AU (no outbreak)

Summary | You have had a crush on Joel Miller, you know your father’s best friend, for a long time.  You’re now 20 (and Joel’s 35) and you’re home for the holidays. Tonight is New Year’s Eve and you decided to go to Bill and Frank’s New Year’s Eve party wearing a sexy black dress. You have one goal in mind, you want to kiss the man that you’ve had a crush on since you were 16. And you finally get your New Year’s kiss at midnight. Happy New Year!

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI. Language, fluff, sexual tension, references to sexual encounters, slight grinding up against a wall, kissing, alcohol consumption…that’s it.

Word Count: 2.0K

A/N:  Welcome to my new series titled Love Never Fails, this one is the origin story of how the couple seen in my other series titled Marriage Dynamics became a couple. Enjoy and Happy New Year!

His hands were shaking and he felt his heart race. This is a bad fucking idea man, ya need to stop this before it goes too far, Joel thought. But the truth was, he wanted it to go too far. He wanted an excuse to taste you, to feel your soft lips against his. You were every forbidden fantasy from his goddamn dreams, sent from Heaven and Hell together to test him. You were like a siren, someone who called to him, to his soul. And he knew that with just one kiss you’d be his forever. So that's why he needed to stop this before it went any further.

It was New Year's Eve, and you were at a New Year's Eve party that was hosted by Frank and Bill, two of your father’s closest friends. Frank and Bill always had a tradition of giving you a small gift each time they threw parties. Your father always fussed and stated that you didn’t deserve any type of gift from them, but Frank didn’t care, he gave you a gift anyways.  Tonight was no exception. This time though the gift came early during Christmas. Frank had wrapped up and gave you a form fitting black dress that accented and hugged your curves just right. When you opened it in front of your father you almost gave your father a heart attack at seeing what the dress looked like. Frank encouraged you to try the dress on and when you came out to show everyone, Joel almost choked on his drink at the sight of seeing you wear it. When you asked Joel in private if he liked the dress, all he said was “fuck woman” and then excused himself to the bathroom. Frank bought the dress knowing what type of effect it would have on Joel, considering that Frank knew you had the biggest crush on Joel Miller. The only problem was that Joel was your father’s best friend, and you had babysat Joel’s daughter, Sarah, from the time you were 12 until you graduated high school two years ago.

Now tonight you were back in the dress over at Frank and Bill’s party, with your hair done up nicely, and a small amount of natural looking makeup on your face.  As you slowly approached Joel upstairs alone, he considered leaving and not sticking around to talk with you. Joel was trying to stay clear of you all night, unsure of how he would be able to keep his hands off of you.  Joel, being your father’s best friend, was seriously struggling in not fucking his best friend’s 20 year old daughter up against the wall tonight. God, this was torture for him, especially seeing you slowly saunter down the hall towards him, holding out a glass of alcohol for him to take. Seeing you like this tonight, in that tight dress with your hair done up nicely, made him feel like he had died and had gone to heaven. Or more like probably going to Hell considering all of the dirty thoughts that he was having tonight of what he wanted to do with you while you were wearing that dress.

“Evenin’ darlin,’” Joel said in a low Southern drawl as you approached him. 

“Hi, Mr. Miller” you said, smiling ever so slightly, handing him a glass of champagne.

Joel accepted the glass graciously from you while also gently brushing up against your fingers as he took it from you. He saw the slight blush that instantly hit your cheeks at the feeling of touching him. After a moment of holding his glass, and slowly looking you up and down, he said, “How many times do I have to tell ya to call me Joel?”

“I was always taught to be respectful to men, Mr. Miller. Don’t want you getting the wrong idea that I’m not a good girl or anything” you answered him in a sultry tone.

Yeah right. Ya ain’t a good girl wearing something like that, swaying that nice tight ass back and forth. God, how I’d love to grab that ass of yours and---Jesus Joel, get it together man, Joel scolded himself internally for thinking those dirty thoughts about his best friend’s daughter.  But when he glanced at your face he noticed that you also must have been having some dirty thoughts of your own because now you were pressing your thighs closely together, shifting your weight slightly back and forth in an attempt to relieve an ache deep inside of your core. Joel also watched you slowly look him up and down, and then stare at the prominent bulge that was forming in his pants at the thought of pushing you up against the wall. “If ya knew what calling me Mr. Miller did to me darlin’, ya wouldn't think it was respectful” he said to you.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his admission. Joel looked wrecked right now, and you assumed you looked no better. All night the electricity or sexual tension between the two of you was intense. You didn’t know what you wanted fully from this man before you tonight, you just knew that you craved him, and wanted to kiss him.  That was why you wore the dress that you did, you were hoping to ignite something primal in him that maybe with the mixture of a little alcohol would get him to relax and open up to you more, or at least open up to the possibility of kissing you at midnight. You were so lost in your own head that you didn’t realize that your back was now up against the wall behind you, and that one of Joel’s arms was now resting on the wall beside your head.  Joel was so impossibly close that you could smell the whiskey on his breath and the spicy hint of cinnamon flavor gum that he was chewing. 

“Ya know, that’s a pretty dress. But why’d you wear it tonight?” Joel asked while slowly nudging his leg in between your legs, looking you up and down with hungry eyes.

“It’s New Years” you said, swallowing hard at your reasoning.

“New Years” he repeated to you and tsked at the same time, not believing the reasoning you were giving him. “Darlin’, that dress ain’t something that should be worn to a party of your dad’s friends. What are ya doin’, trying to give Bill another heart attack?”

“No,” you said, breathless. 

Joel shifted his weight a little closer as he slowly ran his nose up the side of your cheek while he whispered in your ear “then tell me darlin’, who’s attention are you tryin’ to get in that dress?”

“F-fuck, y-you,” you said. “I’m tryin’ to get your attention.”  You found yourself giving out a soft moan when Joel slowly nipped your pulse point on your neck, a sensitive spot you had that usually turned you on even more.  

“Well, ya got my attention darlin’. I can’t fucking think straight with you in that dress. So distracting” he said, switching to the other side of your neck and giving that side the same attention as the previous one. 

“Joel, how much alcohol have you had tonight?” you said, not wanting him to stop. But you needed to make sure that he wasn’t totally intoxicated where he wouldn’t remember what he was doing, or who he was doing it with.

Joel paused and pulled back to look at you intently.  He tsked once again and said, “aw, look at you darlin’. All grown up and asking a grown man how much he’s had to drink-”

“I just want to make sure you’re not too drunk where you won’t remember this or who I am in the morning” you said, looking him stern in the eyes.   

Joel downed the glass of champagne that you had handed him and placed it on the table next to you.  He then placed both of his hands on the wall, one on each side of your head, while slotting his hips tight against your core. “Well, for your information, I’ve only had a total of 2 drinks all night, that includes counting the one I just downed. For the record little girl, I can clearly see who the fuck is in front of me” he growled while slowly grinding his hips into you.

“Ah-well Mr. Miller, I- shit- I’m- I’m just t-trying to be a good, ahh, a good girl and make sure you- fuck” you said as you felt Joel grab your hips and rotate them slightly, snapping his hips forward where you could feel that prominent bulge in his jeans grind deliciously against your core. God it felt good to feel him there, you thought.

Joel wasn’t a good man, that was for sure. A good man wouldn’t have his best friend’s daughter pinned up against the wall and grinding himself hard into her.  He kept trying to slow his heart rate down, and stop his actions that he was doing. Joel tried closing his eyes to will his body to calm down, but as soon as he heard you let out the softest moan, it caused him to grip your hips harder. He wasn’t drunk, hell he didn’t even feel tipsy. Yet here he was, grinding into you like he was a horny teenager who was two seconds away from unzipping himself and fucking you hard against the wall. You were trouble, with a capital T.  And the worst thing about it, you both knew it.

As you both stood there in silence, just enjoying the feel of one another, you heard people begin the last minute countdown to midnight downstairs. You pushed your head back against the wall with a little thud and said “shit” out loud. Joel slowly opened his eyes at hearing this and stared at you after stopping his movement. He was trying to figure out what you wanted, what you needed from him. After a moment you looked him in the eyes and whispered “please Joel.”  You wanted Joel to kiss you so bad, and for him to continue what he was doing, but you didn’t know how to ask him for it.  

Joel kept staring at you after you gave him that quiet plea. When 30 seconds was left of the countdown, he gently cupped your cheek and then said “please what honey? Come on, use your words f’me.” 

With a shaky breath you closed your eyes as you heard the countdown downstairs go from “5,4,3,2,1.” When you heard people say “Happy New Year” you softly whispered “kiss me Joel, please. I wanna feel you.” 

With that admittance you felt Joel crash his lips onto yours to finally give you what you both needed. You two have been teasing each other over the phone for the last few weeks leading up to Christmas, and then continuing that teasing for the week you’ve been here. Joel had no intention of deepening the kiss with you tonight, but when he felt you gently skim his lower lip with your tongue, caution went completely out the window and he granted you access into his mouth.  The next thing he knew his hand was in your hair and your legs were wrapped around his waist as he was slowly grinding and rocking his hips back and forth into you while you both made out with each other, with your back tightly placed against the wall. 

The two of you heard cheering below as you both softly moaned into each other’s mouths from the friction of your hips, and the intensity of your kiss. A lot has happened in the past year of your life, most of it being the dramatic change with the relationship you had with your family, along with your feelings for Joel. You didn’t know what the future would bring with you two, and honestly right now you didn’t care.  All you knew was for the first time in a long time you felt safe in the arms of a man who was 15 years older than you. A man who was also your father’s best friend, and someone you were finally able to kiss after all these years of secretly wanting him. Truly, this was going to be the best New Year possible, and one that you’d never forget.

Happy New Years!

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42 

[theharddeck]

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this fic!!! you KNOW i was so excited for it and boy howdy it did not disappoint 😍😍 many ramblings, so sticking them under the cut for the sake of courtesy to others' TLs, but i loved this, ames!

You are silhouetted in the doorway like a priceless Renaissance sculpture, glowing, curves highlighted and illuminated in the most beautiful dress Bob has ever seen. Black satin, catching in the dim light and glimmering, like a blanket of stars on a cloudless December night. He used to lay under stars like those in Montana and memorize the constellations. He feels the same sense of wonder, of awe looking at you.

i am losing my freaking mind at this simile, robert!!!

"I, uh... run warm, I guess," Bob says. He lifts his baseball cap and runs his fingers through the mess of strands underneath, in desperate need of a trim.

of course he does. of course he is an animated space heater, and has just-long-enough to curl hair. i die.

You grin at him, eyes bright, looking so beautiful that Bob can’t hold the words in. “Can I kiss you?” 

i metlteddddddddddddddd melted melted melted. he is just so sweet! his anticipation and nerves in this scene just threatened to destroy me.

and then the kiss!!! it was so sweeeeeeeeeeeeet i love this. thank you for writing this perfect fluffy NYE treat, ames!!

i want your midnights

synopsis: on the coldest new year's eve in a decade, bob floyd shows up at your door. prequel to delicate.

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, bob is really soft and cozy and in love, swearing (barely), so much yearning and pining, kissing kissing kissing (wc: 2.2K)

note: surprise! i wasn't planning to write something for new year's, but i missed lovestruck bob. happy new year, loves! 🍾

summoning a few people who might be interested: @sometimesanalice @roosterbruiser @theharddeck @callsignspark @lewmagoo @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @rhettabbotts

He shouldn't be here right now. For several reasons. 

Technically, Bob should be on a plane right now – or on one of several planes because San Diego International doesn't offer any direct flights to the part of Montana Bob is from

He usually flies from San Diego to Los Angeles and Los Angeles to Bozeman and drives from there.

Except when half of California freezes over in the coldest storm in a decade on the very day Bob is supposed to head home for New Year's and grounds all of LAX.

This normally wouldn't be a big deal. He doesn't even care all that much about New Year's – New Year's is celebrated very casually in his family. He's usually in bed well before midnight. – but Bob already missed Christmas. 

He and Phoenix were selected for a special detachment at the end of December, which – while an honor and a privilege, etcetera – meant Bob spent Christmas on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific. He didn't get back until December 28.

Phoenix immediately drove up to San Francisco to be with her nieces and nephews. He'd been waiting for New Year's. 

Now, after countless delays and an eventual cancellation – which should've happened hours ago when Bob maybe could've found another way home, rented a car and driven the seventeen hours – Bob is stuck in San Diego.

Disappointed isn't a good enough word to express what Bob is feeling right now. 

He could've driven back to his apartment – his sad apartment, already devoid of colorful lights and silver and gold decorations because Bob didn't expect to come back until January. He could've called Fanboy or gone to the New Year's Eve party at the Hard Deck, but Bob isn't in the mood to be around people right now. 

He only wants to see one person. 

And now Bob is here – standing outside of your apartment with a backpack and a carry-on, like Bob is about to clear out a drawer and move right in. 

He probably looks like a weirdo. He definitely feels like a weirdo. 

Damn. This was a mistake. 

It's a brisk 40 degrees and dropping outside, and Coronado smells like ocean air and fireplace smoke. Pine needles, shed from the withering evergreens hauled onto the streets and abandoned the day after Christmas. Seawater and camphor and burning wood.

He shivers in the cold, broad shoulders rounding under the worn wool of his sweater. He should've worn something warmer – something nicer – but all of Bob's warmer coats are either deep in his suitcase or at his parents' house. He never expected to need them in San Diego.

A shaky puff of breath blows from his quivering lips. 

He breathes in a deep and steadying breath. A bracing breath. And knocks on the door. 

Minutes pass. Or maybe, just seconds.

Finally, Bob hears a voice from inside. Blessedly.

"Just a minute!" 

Your calm voice is like a soothing balm, even muffled, even barely audible, and Bob feels like a loosed bowstring – held taut for hours on end and at the sound of your voice, finally let free. He can drop his shoulders and loosen his clenched jaw for the first time in the past day – in the past week.

Tension melts off of him like the last snow of late spring from the Montana pines. He can finally relax. He can breathe again.

A crack of light spills out of the creaking door, and Bob pulls his gaze from his scuffed brown Blundstones. 

You are silhouetted in the doorway like a priceless Renaissance sculpture, glowing, curves highlighted and illuminated in the most beautiful dress Bob has ever seen.

Black satin, catching in the dim light and glimmering, like a blanket of stars on a cloudless December night.

He used to lay under stars like those in Montana and memorize the constellations. He feels the same sense of wonder, of awe looking at you.

He's always found you beautiful – even dressed in your coveralls with grease smudged on your cheeks, sometimes especially then – but now, fuck.

He's never seen your hair like that before, loose around your shoulders, curled like the ends of a ribbon on a beautifully wrapped present on Christmas morning. He shoves his hands in his pockets, slightly chapped and reddened from the dry cold, and pinches the denim between his palms, squashing the urge to reach out and wrap one of the delicate strands of hair around his finger.

A deep shade of red paints your lips, parting in a surprised smile. "Bob Floyd, is that you?" You shiver and hug your arms, and Bob, respectfully, keeps his eyes on your face. "Jesus Christ, when did it get so cold out here? Aren't you cold?" 

"I, uh... run warm, I guess," Bob says. He lifts his baseball cap and runs his fingers through the mess of strands underneath, in desperate need of a trim. Sets it back on his head and squares his shoulders. "Are you headed out?" 

You look down and absentmindedly shuffle your feet to look down at your heels – which reveals a slit in the fabric, exposing a line of bare skin all the way up to your thigh. God help him. 

"Kind of. I'm supposed to meet up with some of the other mechanics at the Hard Deck. There’s some New Year’s thing there, I guess.” You fold your arms across your chest and look at him, still smiling curiously. “But what about you? What brings you here on New Year's Eve?" 

He showed up out of the blue. Anyone else might be annoyed, but all Bob hears in your voice is gentle curiosity. Like Bob is the most pleasant of surprises. 

"I spent 12 hours in the airport, only for my flight to get canceled, and I couldn't go back to my apartment after that and spend New Year's alone, but I couldn't go to the Hard Deck either. I'm sorry," Bob adds. "I shouldn't have shown up here like this. I should've called you. You have plans."

You regard him, expression calm. "Don't be sorry. I'm happy to see you."

You're happy to see him. You're happy to see him.

Is it cold enough for the pink in his cheeks to be mistaken for a different kind of flush? He hopes so.

"Do you wanna come in?"

His eyes grow wide. "Oh... well, what about your party?"

You drop your shoulder in a shrug. "New Year's is kind of lame anyway. I was really going as an excuse to get dressed up because I never go anywhere fancy enough to wear this dress. It's been in the back of my closet for months."

His eyes drop to the dress again, and absently, Bob wonders what the material would feel like between his fingers, what it'd feel like to run his hand over the elegant slope of your hip. He swallows.

"It's quite a dress," Bob croaks. His mouth is so damn dry. "You, uh... You look really beautiful. It's really... yeah."

You watch him, expression softening like warmed butter. "Thank you, Bob."

You look at him – look past the backpack and the scuffed carry-on and the slightly baggy sweater that once belonged to his older brother – and Bob feels seen, really seen. He feels safe.

You bump the door open wider with your hip and reach for his luggage, wiggling your fingers playfully until Bob passes the suitcase over. He's rewarded with a beaming smile, radiant and warm.

"Come on. You like Chinese?"

You change after Bob comes in, hanging up your dress and putting on an oversized gray sweater, pushed up at the sleeves, and a pair of fleece pajama pants that aren't quite the right length for your legs, covered in white dots and blue and white snowflakes.

You order the food and put on your favorite New Year's Eve movie while Bob calls his parents and gets comfortable, changing into sweatpants. His mom is pleased that Bob isn't spending New Year's alone, but Bob chooses his words carefully.

He is spending New Year's with a friend, not with a girl.

She'd ask questions Bob couldn't really answer in your hall bathroom.

When Bob comes back in, When Harry Met Sally is on.

You explain: "It's my favorite New Year's Eve movie. I watch it almost every year. If I start watching it 28 seconds after 10:30 PM – exactly, like down to the second – I can count down to midnight while Harry is confessing his love to Sally in the New Year’s scene."

You curl up on the couch, nursing a glass of champagne, while Bob sips from a chilled can of Ginger Ale while Harry and Sally banter and dance around each other and fall in love.

Admittedly, Bob is only half watching.

He likes this movie, but Bob is much more interested in you.

He is rarely alone with you.

He usually comes to see you on the Naval base – sometimes even making up questions as an excuse to come and talk to you, bringing coffee as a thank you for your answers – or seeks you out at the Hard Deck. He drove you home once when Bob was working late and spotted you in one of the hangars, but otherwise, Bob has never been here before.

About 30 minutes into the movie, Bob gets overheated and sheds his sweater, leaving him in a white short-sleeve and sweatpants underneath the oversized blanket from your bedroom. It's made of some kind of sherpa and smells like you.

Everything in here smells like you.

His legs are sprawled out in front of him, resting on the coffee table between a half-eaten plate of spring rolls and what’s left of his chicken chow mein. He ate his body weight in noodles and miso soup, and Bob feels warm and relaxed – if bordering on uncomfortably full.

He can barely focus with the smell of your perfume in his nostrils; excruciatingly aware of you underneath the blanket next to him, curled up with your legs folded underneath yourself, head lolling to the side, dangerously close to resting on his shoulder; smelling like cherries and champagne and vanilla and you.

A countdown begins in the background of the scene.

“Five…”

You sit up underneath the blanket, which brings you closer to him, inadvertently.

“Four…” 

Your arm brushes against Bob’s.

“Three…”

You watch the screen, excited, and count along.

“Two…” 

Your lips part in a wide and excited smile.

“One…” 

Cheers erupt on the screen, but Bob isn’t even pretending to watch the movie anymore. He’s watching you. 

You grin at him, eyes bright, looking so beautiful that Bob can’t hold the words in.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Surprise flashes across your face, soon replaced with a small smile. Bob can see a lipstick stain at the corner of your mouth from where earlier, you'd messily wiped the red from your lips with a cocktail napkin. He wants to reach out and smooth it away with the pad of his thumb. He wants to kiss the spot where the smudge used to be.

Instead, Bob holds his breath. Waits.

He shouldn't have said anything. You've been such a good friend to him. You changed your plans, invited him in.

What if Bob's ruined everything now?

You've never been so close. You ask, "Like a New Year's kiss? Or like a real kiss?"

What if Bob hasn't ruined anything at all?

“Both,” Bob says softly, like a confession.

What if?

You're glowing in the sparkle of multi-colored lights, still strung along the walls, still decorating the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, blues and reds and greens, eyes glimmering, liquid warm. "Yeah. That'd be okay."

"Okay," Bob echoes, leaning in.

He presses his lips against yours in a gentle but firm kiss, cradling your jaw with a careful hand, stroking your cheek.

Bob doesn't linger. Doesn't press his luck.

He gives you a good and solid kiss and pulls back, eyes slowly opening.

"How was that?"

You lick your lips, and Bob follows the movement with his gaze, entranced.

"Kiss me again."

It's after midnight now, and uncertain, Bob asks, "Like a New Year's kiss?"

You shake your head, slow and clear, and lean in, and Bob meets you in the middle.

He kisses you in earnest now, kissing the smudge of red on the corner of your mouth, licking a drop of champagne from your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth, running his hands over your skin.

You do the same, running your hands over his shoulders, over his neck, and knocking his baseball hat from his head, run your fingers through his hair. You pull on the ends of the strands, pull him closer, and god, it's all Bob can do not to moan into your mouth.

You're all warm skin and soft curves and sweet perfume, and Bob is drowning drowning drowning.

You knock the wind out of him, and eventually, Bob is forced to pull back and catch his breath. His chest is heaving. His cheeks are pink and warm.

You blink up at him, eyes wide and glassy, as if pulled from a dream, and give him a dazed smile. You murmur, low and breathless, "Happy New Year, Bob."

I think I'm in love with you.

"Happy New Year," Bob whispers instead.

end note: likes are always appreciated, but comments and reblogs make my whole day. i love hearing from y'all!

[hoffmannwrites]

On My List

1  - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 + 1 Masterlist

Author’s Note:

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Description: 5 Times Steve and Eddie kiss as friends, and one time they don't.

Warnings/Tags: Everyone lives, Nobody dies, 5+1, Kissing, Fluff, Idiots to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, some pretty brief mentions for drinking, smoking, musical theater (yes, that gets it's own warning), uhhh they're gay your honor, no beta we die like Barb, let me know if I missed anything?

Suddenly, Seymour

By the time their 4th kiss rolls around, Steve is starting to think that maybe he hallucinated the whole fucking thing. Eddie hasn’t made a single move or mentioned any of the kisses at all to Steve since NYE. Even Robin had gone from “Oh my god, he’s totally into you” to “well, you know how Eddie is. He loves to cause chaos.”  Eddie and Steve still see each other regularly, usually at least once a week on their own volition and a couple times in between while driving around the children. And in the almost month that had past, not once has Eddie even hinted at anything happening between them.

So, Steve did what he did best and pushed it all down and focused on anything else other than the metal head. This focus included helping Dustin audition for the school musical, Little Shop of Horrors.  Steve didn’t know much about acting and his singing knowledge was limited to what he learned as a kid in church choir, but he was very good at critiquing Dustin. Steve even watched the movie with Rick Moranis and everything so he knew what was going on in the musical and how it should feel (and totally not because he thought Steve Martin looked kinda hot in the leather jacket with the motorcycle even if he was a piece of shit).

Dustin was auditioning for the lead, Seymour. Part of the audition was having to do a duet with someone auditioning for Audrey, and kissing her at the end of the song. Dustin was really good at every other thing he had to do for this role, but the idea of kissing someone random on stage in front of the whole town was really freaking him out. (Sure, cannibalism and murder was fine, but god forbid there was PDA). Of course, Steve became his personal director for this particular issue, as the ex-ladies man was very familiar with kissing practical strangers in public.

“Listen, you just gotta think about Suzie,” he advised.

“You want me to think about my girlfriend while kissing another girl?” Dustin questioned, looking at Steve like he has 5 heads.

“No that’s not what I-“, Steve started. He sat down on the couch next to the now Sophomore. “Look. This whole song is about realizing you’re in love, right? It’s about finally getting the girl. It’s about finally realizing that the person who’s been by your side this whole time, who’s had your back since day one, who’s never hurt you is the love of your life. And you’re finally ready to see that, to admit it,” Steve explains. “Not only are you falling in love with your best friend, but you have this feeling of-of hope. There’s a weight off your shoulders and everything just might work out in your favor. And that’s how you feel about Suzie, right? Like it’s all gonna be okay when you look at her?” Dustin nods in response and Steve continues. “So you gotta take all that- all that love and light and- and hope and put it into this song, and the kiss. It’s not about kissing someone on stage, it’s about making the audience feel that joy that your character is feeling.”

“Wow, Harrington. I didn’t know you were such a fuckin’ sap.” Eddie’s voice rings out from the doorframe of Dustin’s bedroom, scaring the ever living shit out of the other two boys. “Jesus Christ, Eddie, you can’t just sneak up on people like that,” Dustin scolds.

Eddie puts his hands up in defense “Sorry, sorry. Stevie was on a roll, there. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Yeah, he was. I just still don’t get how I’m supposed to kiss someone that I’m not into without it being weird or at least looking weird, ya know?” It’s Eddie’s turn to offer some advice, now.

“Oh, Dustybun, it’s way easier than it sounds. Isn’t that the whole point of acting? You do it every week at Hellfire, this is just like that. You’re woo-ing the fair maiden to get access to the castle and it’s armory. Except, instead of rolling a D20 and convincing me, it’s an audience that actually wants you to win.”

And Dustin thinks about that for a minute, because yeah he does have to “act” in Hellfire every week and there have been a few times where his character has had to flirt his way out of some sticky situations. But he still has his reservations. “If it’s so easy, why don’t you guys do it?” He says to his mentors,  not wanting to admit they were right so easily.

“Fine,” Steve almost snaps before Eddie has the chance to make some sarcastic come back. The metal head looks over at Steve, a little wide-eyed, but before he can protest, Steve is talking again. “I’m no singer, but I’ll do my best. You know the song?” He asks Eddie. 

“Uh, yeah kind of,” he croaks out, too caught off guard to really say anything else.

“Alright. We’ll start with the last chorus. You okay taking Audrey?” Eddie nods his head as Steve hands him a lyric sheet, still a little stunned at everything that’s happening. Man, he just came to pick up some Hellfire notes Dustin had for him. And now here he was, standing in Dustin’s bedroom, singing a fucking love song with Steve Harrington. Shit, he wasn’t even a soprano, he can’t hit these notes! Eddie clears his throat and starts singing, albeit taking it down an octave. Steve is right there with him, singing the back up vocals with surprising emotion. Holy shit, Harrington can sing. Holy shit, can Harrington act? There’s no time to really dwell on the revelation right now, because Eddie realizes he should probably be acting too. Only he doesn’t really have to act like he loves Steve because he does, oh god, he does. Has been since he watched that idiot jump into a lake that was also an inter-dimensional portal with zero hesitation.

So they’re singing to each other, standing face to face but far enough apart that it’s not, like, weird or anything. And then it is weird, it’s so so weird because they’re on the last bit of the song and Steve has moved in closer to Eddie and is looking at him like he did right after Eddie kissed him on New Years. By the third “sweet understanding”, Steve grabs both of Eddie’s hands and steps in really close now, so much that they’re singing the last line directly to each other, staring each other in the eyes. And when that last note wraps up, where there should be some orchestral music and applause from an auditorium filled with people, Steve moves his hands to around Eddie’s waist and kisses him like they do in all those sappy movies. Steve’s hand are everywhere and Eddie feels like he’s being completely held together by the younger man, like every piece of him will shatter the second he lets go. And they kiss, chaste and unmoving, waiting for the fake applause to die down and the stage lights to fade to black so the next scene can start. But they break apart and Steve turns to Dustin and raises his eyebrows looking for approval, like he didn’t just melt the metal heads brain.

“Woah.” Dustin is kind of flabbergasted by the display he just saw. “Why didn’t you guys do the plays in school? That was super convincing. Like, so good.”

Steve smiles, all teeth, beaming and proud. “Yeah, well, we were busy. With sports. And, uh,” he gestures vaguely to Eddie, “and drugs.” Eddie has regained enough brain function at this point to shrug in agreement with the last statement, but he’s wondering if Steve’s really that good of an actor or if there’s something else there. No, probably just wishful thinking. But as Dustin gets up to find the papers Eddie came for and Steve offers them both a rushed goodbye as he realizes he’s late for his shift, Eddie can’t help but remember that this is the fourth time Steve’s mouth has been on his. 

A/N:

Idk shit about fuck about D&D. I've been trying to get someone to teach me or let me join them or anything and I simply cannot. If I am using the wrong die for this hypothetical situation in my fictional non-canon story about fictional people in a fantasy horror show, I'm sorry. This isn't Um, Actually, okay? I'm just guessing.

I also know nothing about the licensing process for school musicals, but the Little Shop movie came out in ‘86 and I love the idea of a fanatic drama teacher making it the musical. And Dustin would love it because it’s about a giant plant who eats people because it’s an alien. I also haven’t seen the full musical (not the movie, they’re different) since I was like 7 so please pardon me if they don’t actually kiss during Suddenly, Seymour.