#new year’s eve fluff

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Nanami x Latina/e Reader ~ New Year’s Eve

an: this is inspired by my family’s traditions (and the fun of watching my husband go along with them all.) happy new year!

Kento didn’t particularly care for New Year’s. He appreciated the day off work, if he was lucky- a rare early night and plans to begin another long year with a quiet morning of reading.

But with you by his side this year, he found himself pulled into a bright flurry of traditions. To both of your surprise, he didn’t mind. Instead, he let himself be swept up in your enthusiasm, his tired eyes crinkled into a smile as you bustled around the house together, cleaning.

“Wait, don’t get rid of that yet!” Nanami froze with a dripping mop in hand, about to empty the dirty water. You reached over and took the bucket, laughing at his confused look. “Yet being the operative word. This goes out the door at midnight!”

“Our…mop water?”

“Yep!” You set it aside and wiped off your hands. “All the bad shit from the past year will get flung out the door with this. At least, that’s the idea.”

He shook his head with a smile. “Whatever you say, love. Though there’s nothing I can think of that I want to throw away- this year brought me you.”

“Sweet-talker.” You leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “Not even overtime? Annoying coworkers?” You pecked his face with each suggestion, a warm blush creeping over his features. “Stale bread?”

“Well. Maybe there are some things.” He set the mop aside. “What’s next?”

“Grapes. Don’t worry, I bought them in advance.” You talked over your shoulder to him as you headed to the kitchen. “And we should get the suitcases out-” you raised your voice to be heard over running water as you began to wash the fruit. “Do you have any new underwear?”

Poor Nanami has been following until that last one. He poked his head into the kitchen, utterly bewildered. “Do I have what?”

“New underwear is good luck! You don’t have to wear it till tomorrow.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose I’ll have to check.” You plucked twenty-four grapes from the bunch and divided them into two cups.

“One for each month, for each of us.” You smacked his hand away playfully as Nanami reached for a cup. “At midnight!”

He took a grape from the leftover bunch and popped it into his mouth. “Okay, hands off. Is this more good luck?”

“Absolutely. We have to eat them in the first minute of the new year.”

“Along with throwing out the mop water?” You grinned mischievously at him.

“And walking around the house with our suitcases.”

“Outside? It’s freezing!”

“It’s tradition, Kento! We have to take a lap around the house with them if we want to travel next year.” Nanami pulled you into a hug, smiling into your hair.

“Well then we certainly have to do it. How does Malaysia sound?”

You told him exactly how it sounded, and then some- and the evening slipped away in a happy blur.

When midnight drew near, the two of you were drowsily cuddled on the couch in the soft glow of candlelight, empty wineglasses and half-read books on the table at your feet. You were nearly asleep when the beep of Nanami’s watch startled you.

“Mm, what is it?”

He stirred and wrapped his arms around you. “It’s almost midnight, my love. Time for our traditions, right?”

You grinned sleepily at the word “our”, but didn’t quite open your eyes. Nanami stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Come on, get up. We can’t let those grapes go to waste.” His voice was soft and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket as you sat up.

“I forgot we’re old now,” you laughed. “I’m so tired!”

Nanami collected your wine glasses and took them to the kitchen. “Being old isn’t all bad.” He retrieved a bottle of champagne from the fridge and held it out to you. “This is one of the perks.”

He poured two glasses as you readied the grapes and set the bucket of water and suitcases by the door. He slid his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder as you watched the last few seconds of the year tick down together.

At the stroke of midnight, Nanami spun you in his embrace and pressed his lips to yours- a loving kiss that took your breath away. He broke it first, leaving you to sigh shakily and drink down the champagne.

He held up the cup of grapes and clinked it against yours. “For another year with the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to me.” You blushed through the first two, then giggled through the next ten at the sight of Nanami meticulously eating each one.

Another watch beep, and a grape-juiced kiss from Kento. “Next!” He took your hand, a little unsteady from the champagne, and ran with you to the front door.

“Out with overtime!” He called. You each picked up a side of the bucket and heaved the water outside.

“Good riddance!” You called after, collapsing into laughter at his side. He steadied you and pushed a suitcase handle into your hand.

“Malaysia next, my love?” You nodded happily and traipsed across the lawn, luggage in tow. He followed, not caring what the neighbors would think if any of them peeked out of their windows to see the strange parade.

You barely noticed the cold, warmed inside and out with drink, giddy joy, and the clasp of Kento’s hand. The empty bags bumped along behind you, full of hopes for the future. Together, you managed to stumble back inside and into bed.

“Happy New Year,” you whispered against his lips.

“The very happiest. To many more,” he murmured back.

[jenosbliss]

🍇🎀ᝢ grapes under the table?

pairing. fem!reader x bsf!jeno | genre. fluff, friends to lovers | wc. 1k | warnings. none

a/n:: happy new year! btw did anyone tried the 12 grapes under the table thing?

“Why do you even want to try this?” Jeno asked, his tone caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief as he crouched under the small dorm table with you,  holding a bowl of grapes like it was the most absurd task he’d ever been asked to do.

You rolled your eyes, pushing the bowl of grapes into his hands. “It’s not like I’m throwing salt over my shoulder or reading tea leaves. It’s harmless. And who knows? Maybe it’ll work!”

“You don’t even believe in this stuff,” he shot back, holding up a grape and inspecting it like it was an artifact.

“I also don’t believe in horoscopes, but I still check mine every morning,” you countered, leaning back against the table leg. “But after twenty-something years of being single, desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Jeno’s chest tightened at your words. He’d heard this complaint a million times before—your usual dramatic groaning about how unfair the dating scene was, about how no one ever liked you. But tonight, sitting under the table with you, something about it hit differently.

He remembered the evening he’d seen you at that café with some guy from your class. He’d never thought of himself as the jealous type, but watching you lean in with that laugh—the one you reserved for people you really liked—had made his stomach churn. But when the date didn’t turn into anything more, he buried the realization deep. You were his best friend, and losing you wasn’t worth the risk.

And now? The thought of this little superstition actually working, of you finding someone who wasn’t him? That made him want to throw the grapes out the window.

“You stayed back for this?” Jeno asked, his voice dipping into that teasing tone he always used to cover up his feelings. “You never skip parties, and it’s New Year’s Eve.”

“You’ve been skipping a lot of them lately, too,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. His heart stuttered. Yeah, because of you. “I just didn’t feel like going this time,” he lied.

You studied him for a moment before sighing, your gaze dropping to the bowl of grapes in his lap. “I don’t get why everyone makes such a big deal about New Year’s,” you said as if stating the obvious, your tone softer now. “It’s just a change of date. Not like Christmas or Thanksgiving, where there’s something to celebrate.”

Jeno watched you as you spoke, your expression pensive, your voice tinged with that familiar mix of frustration and longing. He’d heard this all before—how you hated being the only one without a date, how everyone seemed to find someone except you. He used to laugh at your complaints, teasing you until you smiled again.

But now? The thought of someone else being that person for you, the one who turned your complaints into laughter and made your eyes light up—it terrified him.

“Fine,” he said eventually, picking up a grape. “Let’s eat these grapes and see if your superstition works. But if you get a boyfriend this year, I’m blaming the table.”

You laughed, handing him a grape. “Deal. Now, eat.”

The two of you began eating, one grape for each month of the year. With every bite, Jeno’s heart beat louder, his thoughts spiralling. What if it actually worked? What if this silly little tradition actually brought someone into your life? What if someone else swept you off your feet and he had to watch from the sidelines?

As you popped the last grape into your mouth, you grinned triumphantly. “Done! If this works, I’m buying grapes by the crate every year.”

Jeno hesitated, his grip tightening on the bowl. His chest felt heavy, like the words he’d been holding in were threatening to spill over. “What if I don’t want it to work?”

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

He set the bowl aside, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “What if I don’t want you to find someone else? What if… I want to be your boyfriend?”

The words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing against your chest. “Jeno…” You stared at him, your lips parted in shock.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I stayed back tonight because I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I don’t want to watch you love someone else. I want it to be me.”

Your heart raced as the truth in his voice sank in. The boy who’d always been your anchor, your constant, was now baring his heart to you. “You’ve always been my best friend,” you said softly. “I never thought you—”

“That’s the problem,” he interrupted, his tone urgent. “You never thought. But I did. I’ve been thinking about it since the day I saw you on that stupid café date, and it scared the hell out of me. I’ve loved you longer than I even realized, and I’m done pretending I don’t.”

You stared at him, the room suddenly too small, too warm, too charged with everything you hadn’t let yourself feel until this moment. “Jeno,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Ask me again.”

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “Ask me again,” you repeated, your voice steadier this time.He swallowed hard, his hand reaching for yours. “Can I be your boyfriend?”

A smile broke across your face as you nodded. “Yes. You can.” Relief flooded his expression, and before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned forward, his hand cradling your cheek as his lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, but quickly deepened as you melted into him. His touch was warm and steady, his thumb brushing against your skin as if to reassure you this was real.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and grinning, Jeno rested his forehead against yours. “Guess I owe the grapes an apology.” 

You laughed, the sound light and free. “You do.”

For the first time, New Year’s felt like more than just a change of date. It felt like the beginning of something real—something that had been waiting for the right moment all along.

As Jeno held you close under that tiny dorm table, you couldn’t help but think: this was the best start to a year yet. And just like that, New Year’s Eve didn’t feel so pointless anymore.

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

[kirislovelygf]

drunk new year’s eve w/sevika !!

contents: just a lil blurb i thought of since it’s new years and i’m bored

*˚⁺‧͙ 𖦹

it’s new year’s eve in zaun, an unnecessary but convenient reason to get black out drunk with your friends and loved ones.

your friends all went out together but you wanted to spend the evening with sevika. you both made dinner together before drinking.

it was nearing midnight and you both waited in your living room. after the first couple shots, it was hard to keep track of how many followed.

sevika couldn’t handle her alcohol for a good while before even getting tipsy but you were a different story.

just a couple shots in and you were slurring compliments and sweet praises while sitting pretty in sevika’s lap.

“i think you look good all the time.” you said to her.

“really?”

“yeah!”

“i feel old.” she said to you, a bit tipsy herself.

“whaat? that’s crazy, you could run a marathon.” you chuckled.

what sevika loved most about you being drunk is how you flirted with her as if you haven’t been dating two years now.

“you’re sweet.” she said to you.

“so is this drink. i’m getting another one.” you said, swinging your legs over her one thigh to stumble into the kitchen.

“you know what? hell yeah.” sevika muttered following you.

you picked up one of the plenty bottles on the countertop and spilled a bit pouring some into your glass.

sevika came up behind you and gently took the bottle.

“here.. if i let you do it, you’re gonna spill the whole thing .” sevika chuckled lowly. you smiled at her before jumping up to sit on the counter.

you watched her arm move for what felt like hours. you could watch her muscles in motion forever if given the choice.

“here you go.” sevika handed you your glass, brining you out of your trance.

“such a sweetheart.” you smiled. sevika chuckled under her breath before the two of you go back to the couch.

sevika sat in the middle with her flesh arm over your shoulder.

“you’re so pretty.. i’m so lucky..” you mumbled, slurring your words together.

“so are you.” sevika hummed. she loved seeing your rosy cheeks whenever you were drunk. but just for a while before she took you to bed.

not sexually. she would just tuck you in and put your teddy bear next to you under the covers.

“i like you a lot. did ya know that?” you said, leaning your head on her broad shoulder and looking up at her face.

“aw, do you? how much do you like me?”

“i like youu.. umm, like how i like alcohol.” you said as you reached for your drink that sat on the coffee table.

sevika let out a deep laughs as you took a good long sip. you grunted at the fiery spice at the back of your throat.

“take it easy.. you should be conscious enough to welcome the new year.” she chuckled.

“i don’t care bout that.. just wanna hang out with you.” you hummed.

you gripped her chin with your hand to bring her face down to your level before you left kisses all over her cheek.

your tinted lipstick left marks all over her scarred face.

sevika just let you run your course before you placed a kiss on her lips. she kissed you back and let out a quiet laugh as you gripped her shirt collar and almost brought her down on top of you.

suddenly, you both heard the crowds of zaun on the ground from outside counting down from 12.

you gasped looking over at the balcony,

you jumped up and almost fell as you ran over to the open balcony of your apartment.

“look, vika! it’s almost midnight.” you screamed excitedly.

sevika laughs lightly before going to join you.

she watched you in your pure childish joy as you counted down to midnight and then jumped and cheered when fireworks went off in the distance.

you wrapped your arms around her body and she put and arm over your shoulder.

“happy new year, vika.” you smiled up at her.

she leaned down to kiss you briefly. “happy new year, my love.” she then kissed the top of your head before you both looked up to watch the colorful fireworks.

after the firework show, you talked sevika’s ear off for another hour before falling asleep on top of her.

sevika, as she always did, put you to bed in your pajamas and a teddy bear in hand.

*˚⁺‧͙ 𖦹

[hairmetal666]

Steve has a problem. Not a big problem--not an Upside Down-sized problem--but still. A problem. In the form of Eddie Munson. And not the person Eddie Munson, who is second only to Robin in the hierarchy of Steve's heart, but his feelings in regard to one Eddie Munson. Namely, his enormous, devastating, gay crush on the guy.

And he knows, okay, he knows Eddie is gay, but that doesn't mean he wants Steve. Eddie is probably into other metalheads or dnd nerds. What could Steve, with his sports and his polo shirts, possibly have to offer?

He's coping, though. Or, at least, he thought he was until the Family Video phone rings and Jonathan invites them to the New Year's Eve party he and Argyle are throwing at their new apartment.

"We have to make a no-date pact." He tells Robin as soon as the phone is back in the cradle.

"Or you could just ask Eddie."

"You could just ask Nancy." He raises an eyebrow.

She lets out a slow breath. "Yeah, okay. No-date pact. I'm down."

It's just as easy to get Nancy and Eddie on board. Nancy just laughs and says "yeah, like I'd bring a date to the party my ex-boyfriend is hosting with his new boyfriend. How you do you even start to explain that dynamic?"

And Eddie snorts right in Steve's face (it's not cute, it's not), says, "Right, cause my dating pool in Hawkins, Indiana is just ripe with guys who want to ring in the New Year with me."

Steve wants to say that he would be that guy, happily, giddily, but he can't risk blowing up his second most important friendship like that, not when Eddie's never given a fraction of a hint that he wants Steve too.

But that's his problem solved, right? The four of them aren't bringing dates. Easy-peasy.

Unfortunately, Steve's life hasn't ever worked out like that, and the party turns out to not be only their little end of the world crew and a handful of people Jon knows from his grocery store job, but an actual motherfucking party.

It takes almost ten minutes for him and Robin to navigate through the sea of strangers to find Jon and Argyle handing out solo cups in the kitchen.

"Who are all these people?" He shouts over the pounding music, nothing like Steve's ever heard.

"Argyle got a job at the record store down the street," Jon yells.

"Co-workers." Argyle nods. "And a few of their friends."

"A few, right."

"The more the merrier. Right, my dude?"

"Sure." Steve takes a cup. "You seen Eddie around?"

"Living room, last time I looked." Jonathan answers.

"See you around?" Robin asks.

"At least meet up for the ball drop," Argyle answers.

They push their way into the cramped living room, and Steve searches for that familiar cloud of hair, the ripped black jeans. It takes a minute just for the sheer amount of bodies pressed into the small space, and when he sees him Eddie's--

He's standing against a wall, next to the stereo (of course), but there's someone with him. Someone who is tall and leanly muscled in a way that Steve isn't. Someone with long hair pushed back from his forehead. Someone with facial piercings in places Steve didn't even know you could pierce and tattoos and a chain hanging from his worn blue jeans and a bandana in his back pocket, just like Eddie.

And Eddie he's--he's gazing up at this dude with clear stars in his brown doe eyes, body angling towards the other man like he can't help but push more into his orbit.

Steve turns hard, Robin colliding with his side. "Steve, what the--oh."

"I hate New Year's Eve," Steve sighs, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It's always been the kind of holiday that is high on expectation and low on follow-through.

"C'mon, I think I spotted Nance over by the bedroom."

He lets Robin guide him across the room, steadfastly not looking back at where Eddie is very obviously finding himself a date. It's okay, Steve reasons. It's okay because that was obviously the kind of guy Eddie would be into it. He knew he had, like, no chance. He shouldn't be disappointed. He shouldn't.

The evening slips away in the shove of people, in the solo cup that manages to always be full in his hand, and he tries as hard as he can to ignore the way Robin and Nancy start sharing the same space.

So much for the no-date pact. He would laugh if a sort of deep loneliness wasn't seeping into his bones.

There's a girl, though, across the room. She's in a short dress and glances at Steve from under hooded eyelids. He could make a move; could have someone to kiss at midnight; have someone just for the night. But then--his heart makes a pathetic patter--Eddie.

Eddie who is practically in that stranger's lap.

He goes out for a cigarette.

When he comes back inside, it's five minutes til midnight and Nancy and Robin are dancing slow and sweet to a song that is neither.

He's happy for them, almost incandescent with it, but the loneliness sinks deeper, reaches marrow, especially after he fails to find Eddie in the crowd.

Steve thinks it might be time to give the whole failed endeavor up for good, but Jonathan and Argyle, both in tiny 1987 novelty top hats, appear at his side.

"Stevie-boy!" Argyle bellows. He lifts Steve at the waist, twirling him, and Steve laughs despite himself.

"Keeping busy?" He asks.

Jonathan pounds him on the back, just a little too hard.

A guest yells from deep in the apartment, "one minute to midnight!" and the music turns off, the TV tuned to Dick Clark and turned up.

Nancy and Robin find their way over, Robin mouthing "sorry," on her way. He pulls her into a side-hug; he'll never begrudge her any happiness, even on his worst day.

From across the room, there's a crash, a short yelp, and then a familiar head of fuzzy brown curls makes its way to them.

"Sorry, sorry." Eddie apologizes as he shoves through the other guests.

"Hi, guys!" He beams at them, cheeks flushed. Steve looks away so he doesn't have to think about how beautiful Eddie is; about how he's not the one who made him blush so pretty.

The countdown on the screen reaches 30 seconds, and the party goers start chanting.

"What happened to--?" Steve can't help but asking.

"Psh, that dude? He's a punk. Plus, I couldn't imagine ringing in 1987 without you guys by my side."

Steve blushes and rolls his eyes. "Sap." He knocks his hip into Eddie's.

"You love it," Eddie wraps him in a loose hold.

The count is down to 10, the ball almost dropped, Jonathan and Argyle and Nancy and Robin making soft eyes at each other.

"What's going on in that head of yours, sweetheart?" Eddie knocks his head gently against Steve's.

"It's nothing."

"You're pouting." Eddie mimics him with a poked out lip.

The count is down to 5.

"Fuck, I just--I wanted to have someone to kiss at midnight, you know?"

The ball drops, the year changes over, the room cheers. His coupled up friends cling to each other in soft, joyous kisses.

Eddie's eyes flick to their friends, to the guests, all kissing and embracing and celebrating, then back to Steve.

With two careful fingers, Eddie lifts Steve's chin, makes it so he can't look away.

"Fuck it," Eddie says. He leans forward, kisses Steve with soft authority.

And Steve just--he just fucking--crumbles into it. He makes a soft noise, curls his fists into Eddie's t-shirt.

Eddie's hands work their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Steve goes eagerly, crushes their bodies together.

They kiss and they kiss, and it's already so far from a friendly New Year's kiss, but then Eddie's tongue swipes into Steve's mouth, and the kiss breaks.

"Um," Eddie says.

Steve can't respond because all his focus is on not giving into the weakness in his knees and collapsing to the floor.

"I've wanted you to do that all night," Steve says.

"Oh." Eddie's face blossoms into a slow smile. "Me too. A lot longer than that, actually."

It's Steve's turn to smile, and he does, so hard it hurts his cheeks. "Me too."

Eddie presses their foreheads together. "Happy New Year, Stevie."

Someone starts singing Auld Lang Syne loudly and off-key, but they're quickly drowned out by a chorus of accompanying voices.

"Happy New Year, Ed."

Steve pulls him in for another kiss. 1987 is already shaping up to be the best year of his life.

[mochie85]

When The Ball Drops

Summary: A continuation of "Have Mercy." Loki tries so hard to get you to kiss him again but you resist him. Until he comes up with a plan on New Year's Eve. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: Over 3.5k Warnings: Fluff, kissing, cameos from multiple Avengers, the use of Y/N

It had been weeks since you saved Loki’s life and brought him back from his near-death experience. Or as Loki fondly likes to call it, “the time you asked him out on a date.” He was relentless with his flirtations towards you. He would seek you out at all hours, multiple times a day, just to wear you down.

One time he caught you by the kitchen pouring yourself a cup of coffee. “There you are, my angel.” He slid on the side of the counter, pulling up right next to you. “I have a headache. Do you think you could kiss it and make it all better?” he crooned so sweetly.

“No,” you answered him flatly and walked away, sipping your coffee.

Or, that time you were kickboxing with Sam. While Loki and Thor just happened to be training on the mat across from you. Thor had knocked him down with a single blow. Loki immediately cried to you from the floor. “Darling! My brother doesn’t seem to know the difference between practice and actual combat. Could you spare me a kiss so that I can continue and teach him a lesson?” He lay on the floor with his hair falling from the loose bun he kept it in. His arms spread apart, looking up at you through thick, long lashes.

“No, Loki!” You were so irritated that you took your fighting gloves off and threw them on the floor. Missing his head by an inch. Loki didn’t even flinch as he watched you storm off in anger. “Go to med-bay if you’re injured!”

“My angel,” Loki purred this morning after a team meeting. “I seem to have a paper cut on my finger. Can you-”

“No! Loki I will not kiss you!” you asserted, gathering your materials to get out of there quickly.

“I was going to suggest you lick it. But if that’s what you prefer, I’ll take it as a consolation prize,” he smiled and puckered his lips towards you. Your palms had never itched more, wanting to slap the kiss right off his mouth. You growled in frustration as you turned on your heel and walked out.

Loki heard light chuckles coming from the end of the large meeting table. Wilson and Barnes were shaking their heads, having watched the whole scene play out. “Is there something that you two find amusing?”

“Ya, man. You!” Wilson answered.

“I’m glad my shortcomings amuse you,” Loki answered with a slight upturn of his lip.

“Let me give you some advice,” Sam said walking over to him.

“Not warranted. Nor requested.”

“I’ma give it to you anyway.” Sam clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. “You need to chill.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki said astounded.

“The more you push, the harder she resists,” Barnes interjected.

“Stop harassing her,” Sam continued.

“You, constantly being around her, reminding her of that kiss, is not gonna go well for you,” Barnes added.

“Are you saying that she regretted healing me?” Loki questioned.

“No,” they both answer in unison.

“Anyone can see that she was smitten with you from day one!” Sam declared.

“And she wouldn’t just kiss anybody. She offered to heal my arm once, though,” Barnes said to Wilson. “I wonder if she would’ve kissed me then?” He said introspectively, biting his lip in thought. Loki sneered at the notion.

“But she thinks that you’re just teasing her. That you’re not sincere with your feelings and you’re just looking for a way to provoke or annoy her.”

“I honestly don’t know how I can make it any clearer for her that I’m interested other than to ask her flat-out naked!”

“NO!” they both screamed again.

“Well, it would've worked on Asgard.” Loki pouted, crossing his arms as he sat on the ledge of the conference table.

“I’m sure it would’ve,” Sam nodded sarcastically. “Look, do you really like her?” Loki gave him a sardonic look, appalled that Wilson would even ask such a question.

“Then prove to her that you’re worthy of her affections. Wait for her to ask you. That way you’ll know she wants you too and not just because she’s trying to save your life.” At this last drop of wisdom, Barnes and Wilson left Loki in the conference room, pondering ways to prove his sincerity towards you.

You hurried towards your room, scenes from the last moments with Loki replaying in your mind. How could everything have gone tits up in just a couple of weeks?! You left the meeting today exhausted more than ever. You weren’t sure if it was misplaced gratitude for saving his life or if he genuinely is attracted to you but you didn’t think you could resist Loki anymore.

You know he’s just mocking you about what happened. He doesn’t have any real feelings towards you. It’s in his nature to be playful. But every time he comes anywhere near you and he puckers those lips of his, your knees buckle and you almost give in.

Screw it! If he wants to tease you so badly, maybe you could call his bluff and kiss him back. Perhaps then he’ll realize that his joke had gone way too far and he’d stop. Yes! The next time he teases you, you’ll kiss him right back.

But he never did. After weeks of trying to get under your skin, he finally relented. Morning coffee breaks were innocuous and pleasant. Sometimes, he would have a cup waiting for you, just the way you like it. No quips. No lewd gestures about kissing. Just a handsome smile and a friendly, helping hand.

There were times you would see him walk out of the training rooms with Thor, holding on to his side in pain. You were ready for him to make a quick jab about needing your kiss to heal the ache. But none ever came. Only a quick, “Hello, darling,” in passing as he limped off in the direction of med-bay. You’ve missed your chance.

Days later, holiday lights still glittered around the buildings of New York. Remnants of Christmas still decorated Fifth Avenue. The frigid air nipped at your cheeks making you hold on to your faux mink tighter.

Tony’s New Year’s Eve party was different this year. No celebrities. No politicians. Just the Avengers, along with the friends and family that loved them. He had rented the whole rooftop of the Marriott Marquis, overlooking Times Square. Soft velvet settees were strewn across the space under a luxurious pergola and a fantastic view of the ball waiting to be dropped.  

Lounging next to one of the many heat lamps, you wrapped your coat tighter around your shoulders. “So, who are you kissing when the clock strikes midnight?” Nat asked you, pouring you a glass of Bollinger. Her red lipstick was as bright as her hair. With one side of her fur falling down her shoulder, she looked like the classic Hollywood vixen, ready for her next close-up. Fitting for tonight’s Vintage Hollywood theme.

“I don’t know,” you lied, taking the stem from her hand. You knew exactly who you wanted to kiss tonight. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Liar.” She said so cooly. You smirked, chastising yourself for trying to lie to one of the world’s best interrogators. “I bet I could guess who!” She sang as you rolled your eyes.

“Even if I did want one of them to kiss me, that doesn’t mean that they will.”

“Come on. I’m sure one of them would love to snog you at midnight,” she chuckled. “An extra blessing of good health and fortune for the coming year…” She wagged her eyebrows and elbowed you.

“Oh, please.”

“Ok, there’s Steve.”

“Your ex?!”

“Ya!”

“No!” you exclaimed.

“He’s a great kisser.”

“Then why don’t you kiss him at midnight”

“We’re trying to get YOU kissed. Not me, remember? OK, what about Thing 1 and Thing 2?” She said pointing to Sam and Bucky.

“No,” you said laughing.

“Why not?”

“No. I just don’t see them that way. It’ll make for an awkward kiss.”

“How ‘bout Bruce?”

“Bruce isn’t even here.” You said looking around the party.

“Ok then, what about Thor?”

“He’s with Jane.”

“Why not try your luck with tall, dark, and stabby then?” she said pointing to Loki with her champagne flute. You snorted at her nickname for Loki nearly spilling champagne as you took a calculated sip. “Oh my god!”

“Nat! Please. Keep your voice down!”

“No one can hear me! It’s a loud party.”

“Yes, a party with superhuman beings who have superhuman hearing!”

“Good! Maybe he’ll make a move!” She said slightly louder, hoping to grab his attention.

“Shh! Shh! Keep it down!” you laughed as you tried to calm her. “He’s been making moves. But I think…I dropped the ball on this one.” You looked over to where Loki was standing, trying to see if he had caught anything that Nat was saying. He was standing proud, having a conversation with Steve. His long black coat fit him snugly while the fur lining of his collar accented his sharp jaw. His gloved hand squeezed tightly around the cane he was holding, making you wonder if he did hear Nat. God, to have that gloved hand wrapped around my neck.

“He’s staring at you.” You heard Nat whisper to your ear.

“What?!” you turned to Nat and then back to Loki quickly, meeting his stare. You were so caught up in imagining his hands that you missed his eyes on you.

You see Loki and Steve staring at both of you, saying things under hushed tones. “They’re probably looking at you,” you explained. “What’s the deal between you and Steve, anyway?” You changed the subject.  “How long has it been since you guys talked?”

“A while.”

“How long is a whi-”

“Listen, since I don’t have anyone to kiss either, why don’t we just kiss each other at midnight? Deal?”

You paused at her ability to change the subject. You gave her a knowing look but allowed her to escape your scrutiny. “Deal!” you sighed, giggling as you clinked your glasses again and took sips readying for round two.

Loki smirked as he listened to your entire conversation. Up until now, he’s been patiently waiting for you to come to him. Giving you compliments. Finding small but lingering ways to touch you. He didn’t know if his tactics were working until he overheard your conversation with Agent Romanoff. He was confident you returned his affections.

Nerves shot through his entire body. Excitement and anxiety all rolled into one giant emotion he could not define. Who knew that Barnes and Wilson’s advice would work? “Tell me, Rogers, what is this tradition you guys have about kissing each other at midnight?” Loki asked as he watched you and Romanoff.

Steve followed Loki’s stare and saw you and Natasha lounging and laughing over a bottle of champagne. He remembered how he and Nat kissed at midnight last year, promising each other to try. But ultimately failing after six months.

“It’s a stupid superstition that doesn’t mean anything,” Steve said bitterly. Loki gave him a look to continue. “It’s said that whoever you kiss at midnight, will be your sweetheart for the rest of the year. Or if you’re already in a relationship, make it stronger.”

“I see,” Loki said contemplatively.

“It’s just superstition, Loki, don’t buy into it.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to find my brother.” Loki excused himself, already putting together details of a plan in his head.

“Thor! Thor…” he said pulling him aside. “Did you know about this Midgardian tradition of kissing at midnight?”

“Yes! Jane and I planned on it when the hour strikes. Who will be your intended, dear brother?” Thor asked happily. Loki looked at him pointedly. “Oh! You got the priestess to agree to kiss you?! That’s wonderful news!”

“Not quite. I need your help.”

“Get Help?”

“NO! For Father’s sake, if you throw me across the room, I will END YOU!”

 “Alright, alright. I jest Loki. What can I do to help?”

“I’d like to kiss her at midnight, but too many people are vying for her attention. Too many variables. Too many options.”

“Don’t worry little brother, I’ve got this!”

Ten minutes before midnight, you can feel the buzz in the air as everyone scrambles to ring in the new year. You and Nat had graduated to the bar. Both of you nursing new flutes of prosecco.

Behind you, Thor rushes through the crowd looking for Steve. “Rogers, who are you kissing at midnight? Nat or Wanda?”

“Nat or Wanda? What do you mean?”

“Well, you have to kiss someone. Isn’t that your Midgardian tradition? And I figured you wouldn’t want to kiss Nat, I mean with your history and all…”

“Well, ya…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about Thor’s proposition. “But what about Y/N?”

“Oh, Lady Y/N is kissing my brother.”

“Loki?! But, I…”

“Oh, I apologize. Did you want to kiss my brother instead?” Thor asked quickly. “I can look for him and change his mind. I didn’t know you had…”

“NO! No, I don’t. But, um…”

“Wonderful! So, Nat or Wanda?”

“I guess Wanda,” Steve shrugged. “Nat and I do have a history.”

“Perfect! I’ll let Wanda know.”

“Now hold on just a second…” Steve’s voice trailed away as Thor sprinted into the crowd. His eyes searched for the Scarlet Witch among the revelers and found her amidst a harem of men all rivaling for her attention.

“Wanda!” Thor shouted, frightening some of the men in the group. “Come. Steve says he wanted to kiss you at midnight!”

“I knew it! He couldn’t hide behind that shy act for long!” she said standing up and smoothing out her dress.

“Perfect! You should go to him right now, and make sure no one else claims him before you do.” Thor said. Wanda nodded with determination and marched her way over to Steve.

“Oh, come on Thor!” Wilson said behind him. “I was just about to ask her!” Thor turned to see Sam and Bucky amongst Wanda’s many admirers.

“Uh…you’re in luck, my dear friends. I know someone anxious to kiss you both.” Thor gleamed.

“Us both?” Bucky questioned. Thor pointed to where you and Natasha sat.

“Ooh, nice choice. But I doubt that Steve would actually like that.” Sam said.

“And I believe Y/N is already spoken for,” Bucky added, pointing to Loki walking in your direction.

“It is for Steve we do this!” Thor wrapped his bulging arms around each of their necks. “We all know how miserable both he and Natasha are right now. Make him a little jealous. Perhaps he’ll rise to the occasion and get back his true love.”

“His true love?” Sam questioned.

“For true love!” Thor repeated, squeezing their necks tighter.

“The things we do for our friends,” Bucky grumbled under his breath.

Meanwhile, Loki made his way to the bar where you and Nat were laughing. “Ladies,” he said in that low baritone of his. “I’m sorry to disrupt your merriment, but may I speak to you privately, Agent Romanoff?”

You and Nat exchanged glances as she raised her eyebrow. A smirk fell upon her red lips and that’s when you felt it. A sharp pang of jealousy that twisted a knife in your gut. You hoped that your smile was still plastered on your face. Lord knows Nat could spot a tell from a mile away and you weren’t as good at hiding it as she was.

Loki offered his hand and Nat took it, hopping off the barstool, hand in hand with the man you’ve been pining for. You waited till both their backs were to you when you turned back around to the bar and let your smile die.

“Can I get a shot of tequila!” you yelled to the bartender, holding up your hand. You watched as Loki led Nat to the middle of the room, his arm wrapped around her delicate waste. “Make it a double!” you said with a huff. The sight in front of you was too much to witness. You had accepted that you might not get to kiss Loki at all tonight, but to watch him kiss someone else would be devastating to you.

With nothing, and no one else, keeping you at the party you decided to leave. You ran from the party as quickly as possible with your head turned down, holding back tears and feelings of betrayal.

“Loki, I hope you’re not gonna ask me for a kiss at midnight. That’s a hard pass.” Nat started before he took her very far.

“No, my dear. I overheard your conversation earlier with our dear healer. I was hoping to alleviate your promise of kissing her at midnight by offering you an alternative.”

“What alternative?”

“Two, alternatives actually.” At this, Loki gently grabbed Natasha’s shoulder and spun her around to see Bucky and Sam by the DJ booth. Sam held his drink up to her in greeting, while Bucky just grinned.

“Two! Steve wouldn’t like this.”

“Roger’s is kissing the Witch tonight.” He pointed to where Steve and Wanda were talking. Jealousy burned inside Natasha. A quiet resolve cemented in her and she was set on making him pay for it. “But what about Y/N?”

“As I said, I plan to take charge of her kiss from midnight, and all her kisses thereafter,” Loki winked at her.

“Don’t play with her heart, Loki.”

“I should warn you of the same with your soldier, agent.” He bowed slightly as Nat sauntered her way over to the two soldiers waiting for her.

When Loki turned back towards the bar, his face had fallen realizing that you were no longer there. Panicked, he looked around and found a trail of your coat just as it disappeared inside the hotel. Loki looked at his watch- three minutes left. The crowd below started getting restless and the giant numbers on the large screen on top of the prismatic ball had started ticking down towards midnight.

“Darling, where are you going? The clock is about to strike.” Loki caught up to you at the elevators. You gulped at the sight of him coming towards you. Inside the lobby, the heat was almost suffocating, and Loki unbuttoned his coat to be less stifling. You watched as he removed his gloves, finger by finger, and stuffed them into his coat pocket. The action mesmerized you until you were face to face with him.

“Loki! Shouldn’t you be with Natasha right now?” You said as you looked up at the elevator numbers ticking by so slowly. You pushed the call button praying for the lift to come faster.

“She’s currently entertaining Thing 1 and Thing 2. If my memory of your conversation serves me correctly.” You stared at him in disbelief. You might have had too much to drink. But not enough to miss the implication of what that meant.

He knows. He overheard your conversation and he knows!

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you towards him, leading you away from the elevators. Away from the notion of running.

His fingers were soft and warm as he cupped your cheek. “Since you’ve saved my life, I have plotted and asked several times for you to kiss me again, my angel. I will not ask again.” His lips were grazing your skin. The heat in his breath intoxicated you. You closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensation of being held by him.  “I told myself that the next time we kiss, it would be because you asked me to. Not out of any obligation. But because you want me. As much as I want you.”

Outside you could hear the deafening roar of people counting down from ten. It melded with the electric buzz going through your body being held so close by Loki. “But I truly can't resist you any longer. I have thought of nothing else since you kissed me that day on the field.”

“Loki…”

“Please ask me.” Three.

“What?” Two.

“Ask me to kiss you.” One.

“Kiss me Loki-” you barely said his name when his lips found yours and held on tight.  A slight whimper fell from your lips, and he reacted by holding you tighter against his body.

Your fingers were entwined in his hair, holding him close to you. You pulled away to catch your breath, and his lips followed yours—unsatisfied from the short amount of contact they had received.  

This kiss was different than the last. There wasn’t a threat of losing his life hanging over you. Instead, the urge was from longing and desire. There was fire and vigor in his lips. And you consumed him easily like a starved woman.

“Happy New Year, my dear,” Loki exhaled between kisses.

“Happy New Year,” you giggled holding him tight.

⬅️ Have Mercy (prequel)

🏷️ Tags in the comments

[pandapetals]

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. 

[honeyryewhiskey]

... ❝ happy new year!❞

— a hunter's new year's eve party is the last place you wanted to be tonight. but, claire clued you in on a certain someone being here tonight. and, what? you're just supposed to not show up when the elusive dean winchester is making an appearance? warnings!! alcohol use, strong language, it's nye ofc they r kissing, assume reader is a little older than claire so this is less weird idk, 18+ mdni ! 3.8k words

“Claire—no. I told you, I’m not going,” you say with an exaggerated sigh, tucking your phone between your shoulder and chin as you step out of the quiet diner. The cool South Dakota night breeze bites at your skin as you continue, “Hunters are obnoxious drunks—all of them. New Year’s is basically a rite of passage: another year breathing, another excuse to act like a pack of wild animals partying like it’s their last day on Earth.” As you huff a sigh, the cold air turning your breath into a misty cloud that lingers.

Crossing the dimly lit parking lot toward your truck, you hear Claire mutter something under her breath.

It’s quick—but her words make your heart flutter, your hand freezing just as it brushes the door handle.

“What did you just say?”

Through the crackle of the call, you can hear her smug little scoff that instantly makes you want to reach through the phone. You know she’s dramatically rolling her big blue eyes, too

“I said,” she drawls, each word slow and taunting, like a cat playing with a trapped mouse, “The Winchesters are in town—so Dean will be there.”

Dean fucking Winchester. You’d only met him once—years ago, before Claire roped you into becoming her hunting partner. He’d swept in like a storm, leather jacket and all, to save your ass from a nasty shifter, barely breaking a sweat in the process. His gruff charm and cocky smirk had left you reeling, even as he’d muttered something about “maybe hunting isn’t the answer” before disappearing into the night in his impala. But it wasn’t until later, in the dim haze of a small-town bar, when Claire casually dropped the bombshell that the Winchesters were basically her uncles. A few drinks in, your guard slipped, and you drunkenly admitted your stupid crush on the eldest brother. Claire, to her credit, had seemed to let it slide—until now.

“So, what?” you say, forcing out a sheepish laugh as you yank the car door open a little too hard. It bounces back and smacks into your arm. “Ow,” you mutter, scowling at the offending door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” You grit your teeth, cheeks burning. “Look, Claire, I told you I’m not going. The Winchesters don’t change that.”

“Uh-huh,” she replies, dripping with disbelief. “And what if I told you Dean’s already here—at Jodi’s—and he asked about you?”

“He did?” The words are out before you can stop them, your stomach doing an unwelcome little flip. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly shuffle into the driver’s seat. ��What was he asking? Wait—what did you say to him?”

“Hah!” Claire cackles, victorious. “You sound like a middle schooler, all flustered over a boy.”

“Oh, Claire,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at nothing, “your uncle is so much more than a boy—”

“Ew! Stop it.” Her groan is dramatic enough to make you grin. “Look, if you don’t come, I’ll just tell Dean about your little crush myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Hey, Dean! Can you c’mere for a second?”

“Claire Novak!” You practically shout, panic tightening your throat.

Her laughter echoes through the line, wicked and delighted. “God, you’re so easy. Relax—I’m kidding.” There’s a pause. Her voice sounds distant, as she talks to someone on the other side of the phone, “oh—Dean, can you just say something stupid real quick? Need proof of life here.”

“What?” His gruff voice rumbles faintly through the line.

“Perfect.” Claire’s smugness is palpable. “So?”

You let out a groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fine. Give me a few hours.” 

✧˖*°࿐

The humming engine softens as you creep down the winding drive. Large pine trees part as Jodi’s cabin comes into view. Massive windows, glowing orange against Pactola Lake. The light leaves a pretty reflection against glass-like water, a snow covered lawn twinking in warm hues. But it’s the silky gleam of your headlights shining against the sleek body of an old ‘67 impala that catches your eyes. Dean’s impala.

The burning in your cheeks is hard to ignore as you find a space to park in the tightly packed lot. Old trucks and cars cover every inch, some even parked on the frosty grass. Hunter parties were big, but never this big. A ripple of relief flows through, momentarily easing the goosebumps pricking your skin. More people meant less chances for you to embarrass yourself in front of the Winchesters or Claire, who’d never let you live it down if you did.

Turning the ignition, the engine clicks off with a huff. As if on cue, your phone starts buzzing on the passenger seat. 

You bite down on the corner of your lip, face illuminated by the glow of your cell as the overhead lights fade out. 

Stealing a moment to yourself, you stare out at the quiet of the cars while practicing deep breathing. You’re used to this, you remind yourself. Hunter’s parties are where you spent all of your holidays after the age of eight. Ended up in the wrong place, at the wrong time and found yourself with your own hunter’s origin story. 

At least there was family in this world you live in, a weird, fucked up family of strangers bonded by their shared profession of exterminating walking evil from the world. 

And now, said family was getting plastered on homemade beer and cheap wine a few yards away from where you sat deep breathing in your truck. 

Shoving the creaky truck open, you slip into the night. Claire throws open the front door, a wicked grin plastered over her face. 

“Would you quit dragging your feet and get in here?” Claire hollers, her grin gleaming like she knows exactly how hard your heart is pounding. The faint hum of country music and the murmur of voices spill out through the open doorway behind her, the warmth of the cabin promising a sharp contrast to the frosty night air.

You tug your jacket tighter around yourself, muttering, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The cabin’s interior is as cozy and chaotic as you remember from past gatherings. The faint scent of pine mingles with beer and something smoky—someone probably barbecued a big dinner. Hunters are scattered everywhere, laughing, drinking, and sharing stories loud enough to rattle the walls.

You weave your way through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces. There’s Jodi by the makeshift bar, pouring drinks while laughing at something Alex said. Garth waves from his spot near the fire, somehow managing to juggle a beer and a plate piled high with food. And Bobby is leaning against a wall, talking with a hunter you vaguely recognize from a case last year.

Claire bumps into you from behind, snapping you out of your daze. “C’mon,” she sings out, brows jumping with excitement, “drinks are this way.” 

She leads you to the cluster of coolers tucked against the back wall of the kitchen. The noise of the party fades slightly as you step away from the center of the chaos, but the faint hum of music and bursts of laughter still fill the air.

“Here,” Claire nods, flipping open a cooler lid and pulling out a nondescript brown bottle. “You’ll love this. Super organic. Super local.”

“That sounds like a lie,” you say, narrowing your eyes as you take the bottle.

Claire smirks. “Just try it.”

With a small shrug, you twist the cap off and take a cautious sip. The taste hits immediately—bitter and earthy, with an unmistakable homemade tang. You recoil, your nose scrunching as the bottle lowers from your lips.

“Okay, what the hell is that?” you cough, wiping your mouth. “Did someone brew this in a bathtub?”

Claire laughs just as a voice cuts in from behind you, warm and teasing. “That bad, huh?”

You turn to find Dean standing there, beer in hand with an amused smirk on his lips. Your stomach flutters and flips under his gaze, as you remind yourself to just act cool.

You hadn’t even noticed Sam, stepping beside his brother with a polite smile. 

“Guess you’re not cut out for the finer things,” Dean adds, nodding toward the bottle in your hand.

“Oh, is that what this is?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. “Because it tastes like someone blended tree bark and regret.”

Sam chuckles, offering his hand. “I’m Sam, this is my brother, Dean. You’re Claire’s friend right? She’s told us a lot about you.”

You take his hand with a polite smile. “Yeah, she’s told me plenty about you guys, too. Nice to finally meet you, Sam. But Your brother and I met once, a while ago now.”

Sam quirks a brow at your words, hazel eyes cutting between you and Dean as if he’s trying to read between the lines of exactly what kind of meeting that may have been.

Before he can get a chance to ask, Claire clears her throat loudly, cutting into the exchange. “Oh, Sam, didn’t you want to see that thing? Over there?” Her finger points vaguely at the living room, deep blue irises the size of saucers as she tries to give him a look of let’s go—now.

Sam blinks, confused as he turns towards her. “What thing?”

Rolling her eyes, she grabs his arm, already dragging him away. “You know—the thing Jodi was talking about. Let’s go.”

“Wait—what thing?” Sam protests, his long limbs stumbling as she pulls him into the crowd, leaving you and Dean standing awkwardly by the coolers.

Dean watches them disappear, his eyebrows furrowed. “She’s acting weird.”

You let out a sheepish laugh, looking down at the bottle in your hand. “Claire? No,” you wave your hand vaguely, desperate to put out the spark of suspicion brewing in his jade eyes, “She’s... always like that.”

Dean gives you a skeptical look but doesn’t push. “So,” he sighs, leaning casually against the counter, “how’s life as Claire’s partner-in-crime? She ever let you get a word in?” His curiosity completely fizzled, eyes trained on you with a small smile. 

You grin up at him, trying your damn hardest not to smile too much at a simple question. “Occasionally. When she’s asleep.”

“That sounds about right,” he chuckles, that smile falling into a smirk. “Bet she’s got you running all over the place, huh?”

“Pretty much. Although to be fair, I do my fair share of dragging her into messes.”

“Let me guess,” Dean starts, his husky voice making goosebumps tent across your skin. “You’re the responsible one. The voice of reason.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s more like... I’m the one making sure she doesn’t jump into a werewolf den without backup.”

“Good luck with that,” he quips, rolling his eyes. “She’s stubborn as hell. Runs in the family.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you reply, smirking back at him.

Dean’s eyes narrow playfully. “Was that a shot at me?”

“Maybe,” you say, taking another swig of the beer and grimacing again. “God, this is terrible.”

Dean chuckles, reaching over to take the bottle from you. “Here, let me save you from yourself.” He sets it on the cooler and hands you one of the labeled beers from the next cooler over. “Try this instead. It won’t kill you.”

You take it, your fingers brushing his briefly. “Thanks. I was starting to think you were going to let me suffer.”

“Nah,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Not my style.”

Bobby’s clapping as he strides into the kitchen catches everyone’s attention. “You two—garage, now,” he orders, motioning toward the garage door. A small crowd trails behind him as he crosses the room.

Dean flashes you a quick grin, raising a brow. You exchange a knowing look before following the group. Claire brushes past, grabbing your arm with a playful smile as she glances between you and Dean.

Jodi stood at the makeshift table in the garage, lining up red Solo cups with the precision of someone who’d once been a drill sergeant in another life. “Alright, listen up!” she called, gesturing toward the group. “We’re playing flip cup—two teams, four players each. No whining, no excuses, and definitely no cheating.” She pointed at Dean with a sharp look.

Dean raises his hands in mock surrender, all feigned innocence. “What? I’m offended you’d even suggest that, Jodi.”

Donna, practically bouncing with excitement, chimes in, “Relax, Sheriff. Dean’s too cocky to cheat. He thinks he’s already won.”

Standing next to Sam, you smirk. “That’s because he hasn’t gone up against us yet. His ego’s about to take a hit.”

Dean’s gaze snaps to yours, his eyebrows lifting with a teasing smile. “Big words, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can back ’em up.”

Jodi claps her hands again, “Alright, teams are set! Over here—Dean, Alex, Sam, and Bobby. Over there—Me, Donna, Claire and you.” she finishes, pointing at you with a wink. “Dean, I reckon I’ve got your match here with this one.” 

A deep laugh rolls out of Dean as he leans casually against the workbench, “Uh, huh, you say that now, Jodi. But you’re gonna be singin’ a different tune when this is over.”

The game kicks off with an eruption of cheers as everyone falls into line behind the first match: you and Alex. She knocks back her first drink with ease, but her flip wobbles, giving you enough time to swiftly take the first win. 

“Yes!” you shriek, hands going up in the air, “first blood!” 

“That’s my girl!” Claire giggles from the line. 

Dean, watching with his arms crossed, meets your eyes with a smirk, “Alright, alright, girls. Don’t get too cocky yet.”

Sam and Donna face off next. To your surprise, Donna keeps pace with Sam, matching his speed as she downs her drink. Just as Sam moves to flip his cup, Donna’s lands upright on the first try with flawless precision.

“Yes!” Donna shouts, throwing her arms up in victory. The garage erupts into cheers from her team, while yours lets out a collective groan.

Sam stares at his still-tipping cup, dumbfounded. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters.

Donna grins, clapping him on the back. “Sorry, Sammy, but the Midwest don’t mess around.”

They fall back from the table, Sam with his head hanging low as Dean’s laughter booms over everyone else's. 

Claire steps up with confidence, “You’re going down, old man!” she teases as she stares down Dean from across the table. Her expression is smug, completely locked into her competitive nature. They move simultaneously, Claire finishing her cup seconds before Dean. 

“C’mon,” she yells, wiping her mouth hastily as she attempts her first flip. It doesn’t land, earning a smug chuckle from Dean as he casually sets his cup down onto the table. 

Grinning at her lazily, “Patience, kiddo.” With an annoying lack of effort, he nails his first flip. A noisy chaos ensues around you. 

“That’s how it’s done.” he gloats, head tilting to throw you a quick wink.

With narrow eyes, you shoot back at him, “Don’t get too comfortable, Winchester.” 

The game heated up as Jodi and Bobby began the final round, a rambunctious chant of “chug, chug, chug,” filled the air. Jodi drinks too fast, falling into a coughing fit as Bobby takes advantage of the moment and flips his cup a few times, cursing, until he’s taking the round for the win. 

The opposite team cheers as Jodi regains her composure, “Hang on a damn minute,” she laughs, clearing her throat, “we’ve got a tie. Two and two for wins, who’s gonna be the tie breakers?”

Everyone looks around at each other for a moment, until Dean’s clearing his throat, stepping up to the table. He points at you without looking up from the cup he’s filling with beer. “You and me, baby. Let’s go.” 

The room quieted slightly as everyone leaned in, the tension palpable.

Dean smirks, “You ready for this?”

You return his look, eyes sparkling, “Born ready.”

You both drink at lighting speed, slamming cups down almost simultaneously. Dean flips first, but it topples over and skids across the table. “Damnnit!” he shouts. 

You try yours, the cup slipping on the table that has become a mess of puddles from the previous rounds. Bitting your lip you try again, your finger curling into the cup just as Dean breaks your focus with a throat holler.  

You look up to see his cup, perfectly upright on the table. 

His fists are pumping the air, basking in the glory. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t mess with the master.”

Donna and Alex high-fived him as Jodi shook her head with a rueful smile.

Claire, groaning loudly, threw a hand over her face. “Ugh, I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

With your hands on her hips, a raised eyebrow. “Alright, Winchester. You won. No need to act like you just saved the world.”

Dean stepped closer, his grin growing wider. “Oh, it’s not just about winning. It’s about proving a point.”

Crossing your arms, head tilting. “And what point is that?”

Dean, leaning in slightly, lowered his voice just enough to make your heart skip. “That I’m better at everything.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Dean, straightening up, gave you a wink. “You’ll thank me for the lesson someday.”

Sam, rolling his eyes, walked by and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “You’re the worst winner.”

Dean grinned at his brother. “And proud of it, Sammy.”

The garage was still buzzing with energy as everyone started migrating toward the house, laughing and recounting moments from the flip cup game. Jodi herded people inside, saying something about grabbing coats before heading out for the fireworks.

You linger near the door, talking to Sam and Claire about Dean’s relentless gloating, when you feel the faintest brush of warm air against your ear.

“Hey.”

Dean’s closeness startles you, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“I’ve got a better spot to watch the fireworks,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Blinking at him, your heart stumbles over itself. “Yeah? What makes it better?”

Dean leans in a little closer, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening. “Well, for one, it’s not packed with a bunch of loudmouths.” He nods toward the others, who are noisily debating something in the living room. “Second, it’s got the best view of the lake. Was gonna keep it to myself, but…” His brows raise, teasing. “Figured I owed you after absolutely destroying you in flip cup.”

You bite your cheek to hide a smile. “Oh, how generous of you.”

Dean leans back with a shrug, his hands sliding into his pockets. “What can I say? I’m a man of honor.”

“Sure you are,” you tease back, feeling a mix of amusement and nerves swirl in your chest.

Without waiting for a full reply, Dean jerks his head toward the back stairs. “C’mon. You in?”

You hesitate only for a moment, the pull of his green eyes leaving no room for argument. With a nod, you agree. “Lead the way.”

Following Dean up the stairs, the noise of the party fades into a muffled hum. Stepping into a bedroom, you notice the open duffel bag tossed on the bed, a scattered mess of flannels and dark t-shirts on the floor.

Oh. You’re in his room.

Unaware of the way your heart is beating like a hummingbird’s wings, Dean grabs a flannel blanket from the chair in the corner before crossing to the window.

“Wait,” you start, watching as he unlocks it and slides it open. “We’re going out the window?”

Dean glances over his shoulder, his grin casual as ever. “What, you scared of a little height? Thought you were more adventurous than that.”

“I’m plenty adventurous,” you shoot back, hands on your hips. “Just wasn’t expecting an escape route.”

“Well, buckle up, sweetheart.” He climbs through the window with practiced ease, balancing the blanket over his shoulder. “It’s worth it, trust me.”

You follow him, carefully stepping onto the gently sloped roof. The cool night air hits your cheeks, and the chatter of the group below mixes with faint music drifting from the cabin.

Dean spreads the blanket out on a flat portion of the roof, then turns to offer a hand. “Your throne awaits, milady.”

You laugh softly, taking his hand and sitting down next to him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” he quips, settling beside you.

It’s the perfect vantage point—an unobstructed view of the lake where the fireworks will light up the sky. Down on the lawn, the others gather, laughing and occasionally tripping over each other as a few of the guys set up the fireworks.

You laugh, pointing out one hunter chasing another with a lit sparkler. “This feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

Dean chuckles. “Hunters: professional monster killers, amateur party planners.”

The fireworks begin, bursting over the lake in brilliant colors that reflect off the water. The two of you fall into a companionable silence, the booms and crackles filling the air.

Someone from the ground shouts into the night, “It’s almost time!”

Within seconds, your mind is racing, thinking about how much fun this entire night has been. How you’re not even sure when—or if—you’ll see the elusive Dean Winchester again. Maybe it’s the buzz from chugging beer during flip cup, or maybe it’s the way he makes you feel safe, even in silence, that gives you the courage to speak.

“Confession,” you blurt out, biting your lip. Just as you get the word out, the crowd below begins the countdown.

ten… nine…

“Hm?” he grumbles, brows knitting as jade eyes give your face a once-over.

eight… seven…

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

six… five…

Your heart is definitely going to burst out of your chest, that much you’re sure of.

four… three…

Dean lets out a quiet, raspy laugh.

two…

His eyes roam over your face, soft and searching.

one…

The fireworks crackle into the night, but all you can focus on is Dean’s warm hands against your flushed cheeks. He pulls you in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

The world around you falls away—the cracking in the sky, the cheers from below, the chill of the night. All that matters is the way Dean’s kiss lingers, unhurried, sweet, and just a little daring.

He pulls back first, with a smile big enough to show off the dimples in his cheeks. “Guess that counts as your first New Year’s kiss. Gotta say, you’re setting the bar pretty high.”

You laugh, trying to play it cool even as your heart races. “High? That was barely a six out of ten.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “A six, huh? Alright, guess I’ve got all year to work on it.”

Your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes. “You better bring your A-game next time, Winchester.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch again. “You ain’t seen anything yet.”

happy new year babiesss, i'm sorry if this is ass i just wanted to write reader with best friend claire and the warm fuzzy feeling of being at a hunter's party. and if the teams didn't actually tie. dont look at me i rewrote that like 5 fucking times bc i can't figure out how to tie it but i think i did idk idk idk

if ur reading this far, this post is scheduled as i am currently bartending at the clerb to about 1,000 drunk ppl pray for me lol 🫶🏽

[little-jana]

"Countdown To Us"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, talk of new year resolutions, just two cuties

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Starting into the new year with a kiss.

New Year’s Eve always felt a little bittersweet to me.

The promise of a new beginning was intoxicating, but it came with the weight of everything left unfinished. The festivities felt magical—sparkling lights, shimmering decorations, and the electricity in the air as midnight approached. But as much as I loved the idea of celebrating, I couldn’t help feeling a little adrift, watching other people laugh, toast, and steal kisses at midnight.

This year, however, was different.

Penelope Garcia had practically ordered me to attend her annual New Year’s Eve party. Saying no to her was next to impossible, but I didn’t want to, anyway. Spending the evening surrounded by the team, my second family, was exactly what I needed to shake off the heaviness that sometimes accompanied the holiday.

Still, as I sipped my drink in Penelope’s crowded and joyfully decorated living room, I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting to Spencer Reid.

He was standing by the bookshelf, talking animatedly with JJ, his hands moving with his words as they always did. His enthusiasm was so genuine, so unfiltered, that it felt like the whole room revolved around him, even if he didn’t realize it.

The soft cardigan he wore made him seem even cozier than usual, though there was an edge of shyness in the way he stood—like he wasn’t entirely sure he belonged in the midst of all this celebration. That hesitance was something I’d come to adore about him, along with the brilliance that shone in everything he did.

“Why don’t you just go over there?”

Emily’s voice startled me, and I turned to see her smirking at me, her sharp eyes glinting with amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, taking a sip of my drink to avoid meeting her gaze.

“Oh, come on,” she teased, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. “You’ve been staring at him like he’s the last puzzle piece you’ve been looking for all night. Go talk to him.”

I hesitated, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “I don’t think he—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “You think too much. It’s New Year’s Eve. Be bold.”

Before I could protest, she clinked her glass against mine and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me with nothing but her words echoing in my head. Be bold.

I glanced back at Spencer, who was now standing by the counter in the kitchen, refilling his glass. He looked so focused on the simple task that it almost made me laugh.

Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to him.

“Hey,” I said softly, my voice wavering just enough to betray my nerves.

He looked up, his face brightening in that way it always did when he saw me. “Hey! Are you enjoying the party?”

“I am,” I said, leaning against the counter beside him. “Penelope really outdid herself this year.”

“She always does,” he said with a small smile. “I think she views New Year’s as her personal Olympics of celebration.”

I laughed at that, and the sound seemed to relax him. His shoulders loosened, and his smile grew a little wider.

We stood there for a while, talking about everything and nothing. Spencer had a way of making every conversation feel special, like he was letting you in on a secret no one else knew. He talked about the origins of New Year’s traditions, slipping into one of his characteristic rambles, and I listened, fascinated by the way his mind worked.

“You’re staring,” he said suddenly, his tone light but his gaze sharp.

I blinked, realizing I had been, in fact, staring. “I’m just impressed. You’re like a walking encyclopedia.”

A faint blush spread across his cheeks, and he ducked his head. “I don’t mean to monopolize the conversation.”

“You’re not,” I said quickly. “I like listening to you.”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the air between us felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

Before I could lose myself in his gaze, Penelope’s voice rang out, announcing that there was one minute left until midnight.

“Sixty seconds, people! Grab your champagne, grab your confetti, and get ready for the countdown!”

The room buzzed with excitement as everyone gathered near the television, but Spencer and I stayed where we were, standing close enough to the window to see the city lights glimmering in the distance.

“Do you have any New Year’s resolutions?” I asked, breaking the silence.

He tilted his head, considering the question. “Not really. I’ve never been great at sticking to them. But maybe this year, I’ll try to slow down a little. Appreciate the small moments more.”

“That’s a good one,” I said softly.

“What about you?”

I hesitated, staring down at the glass in my hand. “I guess… to be braver. To stop holding myself back.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, and he turned to face me fully. “You don’t need to be braver.”

I blinked, surprised by the firmness in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“You’re already brave,” he said simply. “You face things every day that would terrify most people, and you do it without hesitation. You’re… incredible.”

His words took the air from my lungs, and I looked away, trying to hide the blush creeping across my face.

“Ten seconds!” Penelope’s voice cut through the moment, and the room erupted into cheers as everyone began counting down.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

I turned back to Spencer, my heart pounding as the countdown grew louder.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

He was watching me intently now, his eyes searching mine.

“Four! Three! Two!”

I didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly he was leaning closer, and before I could think, my lips met his just as everyone shouted, “One! Happy New Year!”

The world seemed to melt away as his hand slid up to cup my face, his fingers warm against my skin. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but as I leaned into him, it deepened into something that felt like a promise.

When we finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, he stayed close, his forehead resting gently against mine.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured, his voice low and warm.

“Happy New Year,” I whispered, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing.

Around us, the party erupted into cheers and laughter, but all I could focus on was him—the way his lips had felt against mine, the softness in his eyes, and the way his hand lingered on my face, as if he wasn’t ready to let go.

“I think I just found my New Year’s resolution,” he said, his lips curving into a shy smile.

“What’s that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“To do this again,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek.

My breath caught, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I think I can get behind that.”

As the party carried on around us, Spencer stayed by my side, his hand brushing against mine in a way that felt both thrilling and comforting. For the first time in a long time, I felt like the new year wasn’t just a fresh start—it was a promise of something beautiful to come.

[wikiangela]

I want your midnights (I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day)

written for @bucktommywinterfest

prompt: December 29-January 4: midnight kiss/resolutions and/or early mornings/late nights

rating: G

words: 1.9k

my last fic of the year so: Happy New Year everyone ❤️🥂

[read on Ao3]

It’s five minutes until midnight and Buck can’t find Tommy. It shouldn’t be hard, Tommy’s house isn’t that big, but there’s so many people – it was an open invitation, so there’s lots of coworkers and friends and friends of friends. There are some faces he’s not recognizing, as he’s frantically running around, music loud, lights dim, everyone too drunk to care.  He made sure to be by Tommy’s side, or at least not let him out of his eyesight the whole evening. They were mingling, drinking, and dancing together. But then at some point he turned around to talk to Hen and Karen, who were taking a break from dancing and getting a drink in the kitchen – and when he looked back in Tommy’s direction, he was gone. And it’s four minutes until midnight. 

[read on Ao3]

[marauder-misprint]

For the new years prompts- sirius and the friend kissing one except maybe throw some good old jealousy angst in there? Like maybe reader comes to the party either with someone or with the hopes of convincing a specific someone to be their new years kiss- only for that plan to backfire and maybe that person either isn't interested or they're with a date or something- so sirius swoops in and is like you know what you really wanted this so let's just do it for fun (but in reality he's head over heels for reader and is screaming in joy on the inside)

Hehehehe I did some cute lil fluff with a hint of jealousy angst. Thank you for the request ❤︎ ❤︎

prompts

A midnight kiss

Sirius Black x Fem!!reader

1.4k words

cw: fluff, two (2) swears, smoking

The Marauders’ New Year’s Eve party is already in full swing by the time you arrive. You know you’re late, and not in the fashionable sense. From outside, you can hear the music pulsing. It only gets louder as you open the door, entering a living room that’s packed with familiar faces. You immediately see your friends and head over to them.

“You made it!” Lily exclaims loudly to be heard over the music. 

She pulls you into a tight hug.

“Is… he here?” you say into her ear. 

You would’ve whispered it but decided against it, given the volume of the room and the smell of alcohol on her breath. She pulls back, nodding eagerly. She spins you around, leaning on your for support, and spots across the room. 

Amos Diggory is attempting to talk to a girl you recognized but didn’t know the name of. You don’t like how she keeps leaning in closer to him. Out of nowhere, his arm is around her shoulders as he leans in closer to her face. You turn away before you can see too much.

“Did they come together?” you ask Lily.

“No. He came in with a few other guys.”

You nod and scan the rest of the room. You decide you need a little bit of liquid courage if you’re going to try to pull Amos away from the girl as it got closer to midnight. You give Lily a smile and squeeze her shoulder before going to find the drink table.

You don’t notice Marlene disappear from Lily’s side as you walk away. Marlene made her way to the back patio, where Sirius was smoking his way through a pack of cigarettes. 

“She was just late, you git,” she says, leaning her head out the door. 

Sirius turns his head briefly. He had jumped through several hoops to absolutely ensure that you would be at their party. You were friends with Lily, Marlene and the rest of the girls, but you had other friends. Sirius had talked to James and Remus, who in turn carefully asked the girls about your plans, if you had any. With a little bit of finessing, the boys convinced the girls to get you to the party. So when you hadn’t shown up, Sirius’ heart sank.

“She’s here? Like now?” 

His hand rests near his leg. He’d drop his cigarette the moment Marlene confirmed your presence. 

“Yeah,” Marlene says with an annoyed breath. “That’s what I said, innit?” 

The cigarette falls from his hand and he squashes it under his boot. He immediately goes for the door, but Marlene is still standing in his way.

“You should know, ah, don’t shoot the messenger, but she’s hoping to kiss Diggory at midnight.”

The hopeful smile that had been on his face moments earlier is gone. He had gone through all that work to get you here and you had your eyes on a different guest? He shakes his head in disbelief. 

“What could she possibly see in that bastard?” 

Marlene shrugs as she moves out of the way to let Sirius back into the house. He feels that he needs to find you. He needs to get you under his arm for the countdown to midnight. He weaves through all the people in James’ house. He finds Lily first, but she lost sight of you when you went to get a drink and now she’s looking for James. You’re not at the drink table when Sirius gets there. He regrets not asking Marlene what you were wearing, at least that would’ve made it semi-easier to spot you. 

You aren’t trying to avoid Sirius. You don’t even know that he’s looking for you. Clutching your drink tight to your chest in between sips, you mill around the party. You never stand in one spot for too long. You know you know people at the party, but there’s no one to dance with and without Lily, Marlene or even Mary in sight, you have no one to talk to. So you keep walking and nursing your drink. You don’t even realize you finished it until you go to take a sip and come away with nothing. You circle back to the drink table and you’re suddenly not thirsty any more.

Amos is busy shoving his tongue down the girl’s throat just a few steps away. 

“Get a fucking room,” you mumble to yourself as you turn away.

You feel your face burning, but you don’t care. No one’s watching you. You push through the crowd. There’s nothing you want more right now than a little bit of space and maybe some quiet. You end up in the kitchen, taking deep breaths and leaning over the island with your head in your hands.

“Hey, you okay?” 

You’d know that voice anywhere. Sirius. 

“Yeah. Fine. Just need a breather.” 

He doesn’t believe you. He had finally spotted you when you returned for your drink, and then he saw what you saw. He would be lying if he said there was a part of him that was happy Amos was already kissing someone else. Sirius leans over the island from the other side, hoping you’ll look up at him.

“I’d have to be daft to believe that you’re fine. What’s wrong, pretty girl?” 

You do look up at Sirius. It’s more for the pet name than his concern. You don’t think you’re close enough with him to warrant being called ‘pretty girl.’ You sigh. The look of concern on his face feels genuine and what would it hurt?

You wave toward the kitchen door that separated you two from the rest of the party.

“Just saw the guy I was hoping would be my midnight kiss necking with someone. No biggie.”

“You’re with a bloke and he’s snogging someone else?” Sirius asks with a raised eyebrow, feigning ignorance. He knew you weren’t dating Amos. 

You chuckle at the question. 

“No, Black. We’re not, me and the guy, we’re not together. I’m just a hopeful. … Thought it’d be fun or something… I don’t know.”

“Nothing wrong with being hopeful,” Sirius says. 

If there was, he’d be in deep trouble, he thinks.

“Do you want someone to kiss? At midnight?” Sirius asks.

“Would it be bad if I did?” you say with a laugh as you bite the inside of your lip. “Always thought it’d be romantic or something. Ring in the new year right…”

“I know I’m not whoever you were hoping for, but I don’t have anyone to kiss. So if you want, we could. For fun, or something, you know?” 

You take his expression in. There’s a smirk on his face in the most classic Sirius fashion. Frankly, you’re surprised that he didn’t have anyone lined up, although you suppose he might be the kind to usually just grab whoever is nearest. You nod slowly.

“Yeah. That’d be… nice. Thanks, Sirius.”

The smirk shifts into a wide smile. 

“Don’t go far then.”

You and Sirius both turn to leave the kitchen when the count down chant begins. For a reason you can’t explain, you stay in the kitchen, not trying to join the rest of the party. Sirius wraps his arm around your waist and you stare up into his grey eyes. The numbers seem to echo distantly. They still register in your brain though. 

When the voices from outside yell ‘Happy New Year!,’ Sirius crashes his lips to yours. You know full well that a New Year’s kiss is usually only a moment. A singular second of lips pressed together to celebrate the beginning of a year. But as soon as you felt his lips on yours, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You don’t pull back. You let your lips move against his. His grip on your waist tightens as he realizes that you’re not pulling back. You think you could’ve stayed like that for a while

But the sound of cheering and yelling from the party roars back to life and the music is playing louder than before. When Sirius pulls away, his eyes search your face for some kind of reaction. While he is more than pleased with how this turned out, he needs to know what you thought.

His features relax when he sees your smile. 

“I think that’s the best way to ring in the new year, yeah?” you breathe. 

“I’d have to agree.”

You gently run a hand down the side of his face. Maybe you’d find yourself next to Sirius more often this year.

[starlost-mochi-x]

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨' 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 ⊹ 𝙮𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙜

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: you go out on new year's eve with chan and the rest of skz

genre: literally just fluff, it's cold ig

a/n: happy new years, everyone! i wanted to do a little special fic to mark the start of a new chapter (ha ha not literally) and even though it doesn't snow here, i wrote colder weather into the fic anyway for that extra vibe 🌨️

skz masterlist

Your breath puffs out in front of you in sharp, frosty clouds as you and Chan weave your way through the busy streets. The air is tangy and cold with the promise of more snow to come, though in the morning, most of it will begin to melt.

Everywhere you look, there are people; weaving through the busy sidewalks, holding hands with their loved ones, streaming out of shops or stores.

Next to you, Chan grins, his cheeks feeling stiff and iced with the cold weather, but slowly thawing with the warmth of his smile. He was in his element; he'd told you a while ago that he had made it a tradition with the kids to go out on the very first day of the new year, spending hours into the night laughing, eating, and exploring.

So, this year, he decided to bring you along too. It's chaos, but for once, Chan doesn't make an immediate move towards Seungmin and Jeongin, who are tossing back and forth creative insults a little way ahead of you on the sidewalk, or to Hyunjin, who's busy scooping up handfuls of snow to put down Felix's shirt.

Minho hovers nearby, his phone camera at the ready, and the neck of his shirt tucked in tightly, secure and cheeky-dongsaeng-proof. The rest of the boys are scattered up ahead, and though Chan hangs back, holding your hand and letting the other members supervise for once, you can tell he's checking in every few minutes anyway. Just in case.

You squeeze his hand a little tighter.

Normally, for you, the new year brings about a sense of loneliness and gloom; you were a storm, overcast with the grey feeling of another year passing by without feeling like you'd achieved anything. And for some reason, it seemed to weigh down on the times when you were supposed to be happiest. Like now.

Of course Chan noticed; yet again, his gentle, perceiving nature had reached out a hand to you, though it was shaking a little with the cold. So you had taken it, and now you found yourself seated next to him at a cosy, steamy restaurant on a street corner, all the other members crammed around the table, packed in tight but their spirits and feeling flying free.

You rub your nose, feeling the inside thaw a little as you inhale steam floating from the kitchen. Everything is soaked in rosy, warm light; your hands, Chan's face, the table in front of you all, and all the other guests chattering away and eating at their own tables.

Chan nudges you. You look up at his face; kind, dark eyes, a flush high on his cheekbones, staining the skin pink. He's a little paler than usual because of the cold, and his hands look the same way, but the radiance of his usual self shines brighter no less.

"You okay?" He whispers.

You nod back and you notice that his teeth are chattering slightly.

"Yeah, just recovering from the cold outside. It's much warmer in here."

Chan nods, puffing out a laugh. "I thought the boys were gonna freeze out there too, alongside us."

You steal a glance at the seven members, who are busy bickering and chattering and being their usual selves. They all erupt into laughter just as Felix pulls out a chunk of snow from the hem of his jacket and shoves it down Hyunjin's shirt instead.

You chuckle. "They move too fast for the frost to catch them."

Chan sighs wearily in agreement and you laugh, feeling the grey, stormy cloud hanging over your head lift a little.

Two hours, a lot of food, and nine full bellies later, you're all walking back down the street to a famous lookout point. It's not midnight yet and it won't be for a while, so Changbin suggested killing time by looking over the city of Seoul before heading back to watch the fireworks.

You all reach the steps to head to the lookout tower and the boys scramble up, skipping stairs. Joking threats of pushing each other down the steps and playful bickering disturbs several other people and Chan bows hurriedly before moving to follow the rest of his band. His hand is still glued to yours, however, and he jolts in his tracks as he moves and you stay rooted to the bottom of the steps.

"Channie," you say quietly. "Wait."

He steps back to your level, looking into your eyes with curiosity. "What is it? Are you okay?"

Though it's cold, you feel your palms sweating a little as you reach into your pocket, closing your hand around something as you keep eye contact with the man in front of you.

"I wanted to give you something," you whisper. "Because you always do so much for me, and I wanted you to know that I love you."

Chan smiles warmly. "I love you too."

You pull out the flat box from your pocket. It's dark blue and about the size of your palm, and you hand it to him with shaking fingers, soothed by the brush of Chan's own fingers brushing yours as he takes it gently.

He opens the box. Inside is a silver bracelet; a chain, just like the ones he loves to wear. There's a pendant at the bottom; a silver love knot threaded with tiny black diamonds, and two smaller pendants either side of that one, each depicting little bold letters spelling out yours and Chan's names.

Chan takes it out of the box with shaking hands and you help him clip it to his wrist. He turns it over and over, his eyes almost glowing with soft, adoring affection.

"I love it," he whispers. "Thank you."

You smile and pull back your own jacket sleeve, where an identical bracelet rests. Where the diamonds on Chan's pendant are black, yours are a silvery white, the colours opposing but still working so well together. Chan's eyes widen at the sight of it. Black and white.

Yin and yang.

You're still holding back your sleeve as Chan stares with unfiltered adoration at the identical chain circling your wrist. Earlier, the cold stung and whipped icicles against the softness of your skin, seeping into your bones and biting with icy teeth.

Now, you don't even feel it. It's like a bubble of warmth has begun to radiate from your shared presence at the bottom of the steps, the snow beginning to fall lightly around you both. You can almost feel waves of it rolling off of Chan's body and you sink into his inviting, cosy warmth, wrapping your arms around Chan's shoulders as his arms circle tightly around your waist.

The cold does nothing to hurt you now, not while Chan is here. The last remnants of stormy cloud dissipate and you feel a warm, pleasant feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. With Chan, it is warm, and safe, and the love between you is known.

You hope it stays that way.

a/n: first fic of 2025 hehe

[cayleeuhithinknott]

new year’s eve really was better than you’d expected.

the night air is crisp, nipping at your cheeks and nose as you stand on the balcony. the muffled hum of music and chatter from the party inside fills the background, but out here, it’s quieter. peaceful. matt stands next to you, leaning against the railing with his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets.

“you okay?” he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. his voice is soft, almost hesitant, like he’s trying not to break the spell of the moment.

you nod, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. “yeah, just needed some air. it was getting a little crowded in there.”

he chuckles, the sound low and warm, and it makes your chest feel lighter. “yeah, same. plus, i wanted to make sure you didn’t freeze out here alone.”

you roll your eyes playfully, but his words make your heart flutter anyway. “i’m fine. it’s not that cold.”

matt raises an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced. without a word, he unwinds the scarf from around his neck and steps closer, gently wrapping it around yours. his hands linger for a second as he adjusts it, his fingers brushing against your collarbone.

“better?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“better,” you reply, though the warmth spreading through you has nothing to do with the scarf.

for a moment, the two of you just stand there, the silence stretching out but never feeling uncomfortable. the city lights twinkle in the distance, and the stars above seem impossibly bright. it feels like the kind of moment you’d see in a movie—too perfect to be real.

inside, someone starts the countdown to midnight. “ten, nine…” the sound drifts through the open balcony door, pulling you both back to the present.

matt glances at you, his lips quirking into that shy, lopsided smile that always makes your heart skip a beat. “you know, it’s kind of a tradition to kiss someone at midnight,” he says, his tone light but his eyes serious.

you tilt your head, feigning innocence even though your pulse is suddenly racing. “oh, is it? i hadn’t heard.”

“seven, six…”

he chuckles softly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “well, i mean, no pressure or anything. just… putting it out there.”

“four, three…”

you step closer, close enough that you can see the faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “you’re terrible at playing it cool, you know that?”

“two…”

“yeah,” he breathes, his voice barely more than a whisper, “i know.”

“one…”

before the cheers erupt from inside, matt closes the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s soft and tentative, like he’s still testing the waters. it only lasts a moment, but it’s enough to make the world around you disappear.

when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he’s smiling—really smiling, the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes your knees feel weak.

“happy new year,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.

“happy new year,” you reply, your voice just as soft.

the noise from the party grows louder, and someone shouts for the two of you to come back inside. but for now, you’re content to stay right here, wrapped in matt’s scarf and the glow of the moment. it’s the perfect start to a new year.

a/n: this is cute and dont ask why matt’s wearing a scarf idk either i was just really feeling scarfs

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @claireezz10 @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay polyfire idea but it's just a tiny one, so maybe take this more as a prompt for now, pulls out prompt notecard.

A broken-up Buck and Tommy find themselves at the same New Year's Party at Eddie's place. As the countdown commences, both seem to be wondering if the other will kiss them after "1", but twist! A drunk Eddie comes over and smooches Tommy. Eddie rolls his eyes when he sees Buck looking so stunned and says, "Yes. You can have one too" and kisses him as well before walking away. Buck and Tommy decide two things: 1) They're getting back together and 2) they need to start dating Eddie too.

[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

Collab Guide | Collab Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

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.

[vintagegirl01]

To the New Year

Steven Grant x female reader

Summary: You have a crush on a certain Brit. Though, you haven’t worked up the courage to tell him how you feel. Will you be able to tell him how you feel before the year ends? Or will that certain Brit beat you to the punch?

A/N: If it wasn’t clear before, none of these stories necessarily take place in London. Though if you prefer it to take place there, that is completely fine. Now sit back and enjoy another one of my Steven Grant fics.

You and Steven are neighbors that have lived across from each other for a year now. In that time, the two of you have become extremely close from having dinner together to simply sharing book recommendations with each other. Despite the two of you having a huge crush on each other, neither have taken the steps to moving your relationship forward from friendship to more. Both fear that the other would reject them. Therefore, here you are on the morning of New Year’s Eve getting ready for a night alone when you hear a knock at the door.

Steven, adorned in his cozy sweater, his messy dark curls framing his warm features, knocked on the neighbor's door, a shy smile playing on his lips. He held a small bundle of flowers in his hands, the stems wrapped in a bit of tissue paper. He'd been wanting to talk to you for a while, but fear had held him back. However, it was New Year's Eve, and he was determined to finally make a move.

"Hey, neighbor. I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness.

You smile. “Not at all. Though I’m surprised you aren't still at work today, Steven.”

Steven chuckled, shifting the bundled-up flowers in his arms. He glanced up, his cheeks tinging a soft shade of pink.

"Well, I asked my boss for a day off since it's New Year's Eve. Thought maybe I could spend some time with you, especially since...", he paused, searching for the right words, his heart beating just a bit faster in his chest.

You heart twinged at the word “friend” for you know that is all you will be to the handsome, kind, Brit you’ve come to know and love.

You take the flowers from him and smell them. “These are beautiful, thank you. Though what’s the occasion?”

Steven watched as you took the flowers, his gaze fixed on your face. He noticed the brief flicker of disappointment in your eyes at the word "friend," and it only served to further confirm his suspicions. Nevertheless, he pressed on, deciding that tonight was the night he would finally express how he truly felt.

"No occasion, really," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "Just... wanted to do something nice for a friend."

The word "friend" hung in the air, and Steven's heart thumped in his chest.

You let him in as you begin putting flowers in a vase. You find some scissors to cut the stems to help fit the flowers. “What did you have in mind?”

Steven stepped inside, his gaze following you as you busily arranged the flowers. He leaned against the countertop, watching you with a mixture of nervousness and expectancy. He took a deep breath before answering your question.

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could just... hang out. You know, chat, watch some movies or something. I'm open to suggestions."

He fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater, his heart still pounding in his chest. He was hoping this would be the perfect opportunity to tell you how he felt.

“That sounds fun! We could order take out to that restaurant you introduced me to.”

Not only did you choose this restaurant to accommodate Steven's food needs as a vegan but you also found yourself liking some of the options that were offered.

Steven's face lit up at the mention of the vegan restaurant he'd introduced you to. He knew that it wasn't your usual kind of place, and the fact that you were willing to go there made his heart skip a beat. His lips curled into a soft smile.

"Yeah, that sounds perfect," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of relief. "I can call in the order if you'd like. Then we can just relax and chat for a bit before the food arrives."

“Perfect! Can you please order me that plate that you ordered the last time we ate there? I can’t remember the name but it was so delicious and actually filling.”

Steven chuckled softly, a warm smile playing on his lips. He was glad that you enjoyed the food he introduced you to.

"Of course, I remember the dish you're talking about. It's called the 'Vegan Buddha Bowl.' I'll make sure to add it to the order."

As Steven reached for his phone to make the call, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. This evening was shaping up to be even more perfect than he had imagined. He wanted to enjoy every moment with you before finally confessing his true feelings.

_________________________________________

A few hours later….

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a soft golden glow. Soft music played in the background, the sound of laughter occasionally filling the air. The food from the restaurant had long been consumed, the empty dishes sitting on the coffee table. Steven and you were comfortably nestled on the sofa, engaged in a lively conversation.

Steven leaned back against the cushions, a content smile playing on his lips. He felt relaxed, yet his heart still fluttered nervously. He knew he had to seize this moment to tell you how he truly felt about you.

“Oh, Steven... Tonight’s been a wonderful New Year’s Eve. I’m so happy to have spent it with you.”

Steven's smile widened at your words, his heart swelling with warmth. He nodded in agreement, his gaze intently fixed on you.

"Me too. Spending the whole day with you has been the best way to end the year."

His eyes searched your face, his heartbeat quickening. The moment was perfect, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. It was now or never. It was time to tell you the truth.

You smile at him. “To think, in an hour we’ll be into a new year. Anything you’re hoping for this coming year?”

Steven's mind was still racing, his heart pounding. But he managed a small smile as he focused on your question. He leaned slightly closer to you, his eyes locking with yours.

"Actually, there is something I've been hoping for. Something that I've wanted for a while now."

His voice was slightly hoarse, filled with both excitement and nerves. The air around them seemed to crackle with anticipation as he carefully chose his next words.

“Oh, Steven…”. You take his hand into your own. “I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll get it because you’re such an amazing man. One of the best I know.

Steven's cheeks flushed at your words, his heart nearly bursting in his chest. Your touch sent a shiver down his spine, and he held your hand gently on his own. He swallowed nervously, his gaze locked with yours.

"Thank you," he said, his voice a mere whisper. "But... I don't know if you're right. You see, the thing I've been hoping for... It involves you."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

You look at him curiously. “What do you mean, Steven?”

Steven's heart thumped louder in his chest as he met your gaze head-on. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his hand still holding yours, his thumb gently rubbing slow soothing circles into your skin.

He took a shaky breath, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

"I... I've been wanting to tell you this for a while now. And I think tonight is the perfect time. You see, I... I have feelings for you. It's more than friendship."

“Oh… it’s not hate, is it?”, you ask insecurely.

Steven's eyes widened in surprise at your question. "Hate?"

He shifted closer to you on the sofa, now holding both your hands in his and shaking his head quickly, his expression filled with disbelief.

"No! No, not at all. I could never hate you. I actually... I love you."

The words came out in a rush, filled with nervous anticipation as he waited for your reaction. His heart was pounding so loudly, he was almost sure you could hear it.

You look at him in wonder, trying to hold back the smile that wants to break across your face. “Steven, can you repeat that again?”

Steven swallowed, his mind racing, heart pounding. He tightened his grip on your hands, his eyes fixed intently on yours.

"I love you," he repeated firmly, his voice only a bit shaky. "I'm in love with you. I've been wanting to tell you for a while now, but I was afraid... afraid that you might not feel the same."

He held his breath, nervously awaiting your response.

You bring him in for a hug. “Oh Steven, I’m so happy you feel the same. For I too was afraid you wouldn’t share the love I have for you.”

A wave of relief washed over Steven as he sank into your embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as his heart swelled with love. He couldn't believe that you felt the same, and the knowledge that you had been struggling with the same fears only made his heart feel even more full.

"You...you love me too?" he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and hope.

“How could I not be in love with you, Steven Grant? You’re intelligent, kind, and handsome.”

Steven's heart nearly leapt out of his chest at your words. He still couldn't believe this was actually happening. He held you tighter, feeling a surge of happiness and love. He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath a bit shaky.

"You...you think I'm handsome?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

You giggled. “That’s what you got out of what I just said to you?”

Steven chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks slightly flushed. He pulled back slightly, his eyes still fixated on yours. He felt a bit embarrassed that he had focused on such a trivial part of your statement.

"Well, I... I suppose the other things are more important," he said, a soft smile on his lips. "But the fact that one of the most beautiful, smartest, and kindest people I know thinks I'm handsome... It's just..."

He trailed off, a small sigh escaping his lips as he gazed at you affectionately.

You touch his face sweetly. “It’s a minute until midnight, got anything you want to do?”

Steven's eyes fluttered closed as you touched his face. The feel of your fingertips sent a shiver down his spine, and he let out a soft sigh.

"As a matter of fact, I have one thing in mind that I want to do," he said, opening his eyes to meet your gaze.

He leaned in closer, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. The minutes were ticking away quickly to the new year, and there was only one thing he wanted to do in those last moments of the year they are currently in.

Steven's heart was pounding loudly in his chest as he drew closer to you. He let go of your hands, bringing his fingers up to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"Can I... can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice filled with a mix of hope and anticipation.

You nod, your lips meeting with his own.

Steven's mind went pleasantly blank as your lips met his. It was as if everything else faded away, leaving only the feel of your mouth against his.

The fireworks outside were nothing compared to the fireworks he felt within. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. Time seemed to stand still, the countdown from the outdoor revelers a faint background noise to the overwhelming connection he felt with you in that moment.

The moment you two finally pull away, you both look at one another with a loved up smile.

“Happy New Year’s, Steven.”

“Happy New Year’s, love.”

You both cuddle into each other as you two listen to the ambience of the fireworks that continue to ring outside.

Perfect start to the new year.

Tags:

@autismsupermusicalassassin

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@missdictatorme

@clemdango04

@ominoose

@oscarssimp

@hoedamn-eron

@faretheeoscar

@reallyrallyauthor

@runa-falls

@emma23

@winniethewife

@angel-of-the-moons

[bitchiswild]

New Year Anticipation

Karina x F! Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 824

A/n: Happy New Year’s Eve/ Happy New Year!🎉🍾🎇 GO PARTY PEOPLE AND DRINKKKKKKKKKKKKK🥂🍾 unless you’re underage then drink Apple juice 😌

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚

"Will you be here for New Year's Eve?" I inquired eagerly, anticipation lacing my words as I looked at my girlfriend while FaceTimed her.

"Absolutely, darling. My flight lands at 10 PM, and then I'll rush to you, ready to plant the biggest kiss on you," Karina replied, her grin widening.

Her words filled me with a delightful giggle, and I gazed at her, my heart swelling with affection. "I miss you, you know. Can't wait for you to be home again," I confessed, my longing evident in my tone.

Karina's eyes mirrored my longing, a silent desire to hold me close evident in her gaze. "I miss you too, baby. Just two more days," she promised, her recent trip to Japan for promotions keeping her away until New Year's Eve.

A yawn escaped me, and Karina, noticing the time, urged gently, "You should get some rest, honey. I'll call you tomorrow." But I resisted, unwilling to let go of our conversation just yet.

Amused by my reluctance to sleep, Karina chuckled softly. "I promise I'll call as soon as you text me. Go on, get some sleep. I love you," she insisted, her affectionate tone urging me to surrender to slumber.

"I love you too," I replied, my heart feeling full and content as I bid her goodnight, eagerly awaiting her return.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚

On the bustling eve of New Year's, Karina's updates became my lifeline. Her messages painted a vivid picture of her journey, filled with delays and traffic snarls, yet her determination and excitement radiated through every word. Each notification from her felt like a surge of hope amidst the rising anxiety that gripped me.

As the day progressed, the clock seemed to tick in slow motion. Every passing minute weighed heavily on my anticipation, the bustling crowd around me an inconsequential blur as my attention remained fixated on my phone, awaiting Karina's next update.

11:50 PM crept upon me, the air crackling with the energy of the impending countdown. With every passing second, my heart raced faster, a mixture of anticipation and worry knotting in my stomach. The grand celebration loomed, yet the absence of Karina felt palpable, casting a shadow over the festivities.

Despite the excitement enveloping the crowd, I stood amidst them, a solitary figure, glancing anxiously between the clock and the sea of faces. My heart longed for her presence, her warmth, and her promise of a fervent embrace.

With each passing second, hope and apprehension waged a silent battle within me. The countdown to the New Year felt more poignant, a mix of eagerness for the future and the ache of the present moment.

Yet, amidst the fervor of the impending celebration, there lingered a fervent desire for Karina's arrival—a longing that intensified as the clock's hands inched closer to midnight, each second feeling like an eternity.

In the midst of the jubilant crowd, I searched desperately for any sign of Karina. The countdown was nearing its climax, the atmosphere electric with anticipation. My heart raced with a blend of nerves and hope, my eyes flickering between the clock and the bustling crowd.

Then, amid the cacophony of cheers and the final countdown echoing around me, I heard it—a fervent cry of my name cutting through the chaos. My pulse quickened, and I turned just in time to see Karina, her eyes ablaze with determination and love, pushing through the crowd toward me.

"Y/n!" Her voice soared above the uproar, resonating in my ears like a melody in the chaos.

With seconds slipping away, our gazes locked in a magnetic pull, the world around us fading into the background. In that heart-stopping moment, with just a single second left on the countdown, Karina surged forward, her determination turning into a sprint.

As the crowd's fervor reached its peak, she reached me, her arms enveloping me in a whirlwind of emotion. Time seemed to stand still as she pressed her lips to mine, a passionate and electrifying kiss that spoke volumes of the longing and love we'd held during her absence.

Amidst the eruption of cheers and the dazzling display of fireworks, our embrace intensified, locking out the outside world. In that kiss, there was a symphony of emotions—love, longing, and the unspoken promise of a new beginning. It was as if the arrival of the New Year heralded a fresh chapter in our story, ignited by the fervor of a long-awaited reunion.

In the midst of the lively celebrations, Karina's whispered words, filled with tenderness, reached me. "Happy New Year, my love," she murmured, her eyes reflecting affection and longing.

"Happy New Year," I replied, my heart swelling with happiness at her presence. Without a moment's hesitation, Karina drew me close, sealing the moment with another deeply passionate kiss—a sweet, fervent celebration of our reunion amidst the New Year's festivities.

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