Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 6- First I Love You
Here’s ILY day. Big thanks to @mizjoely for betaing this ficlet and coming up with the title. Bless her! This one’s rated T because, evidently I can’t write a story without using a certain naughty word. Enjoy ~Lil~
-He Always Means It-
“This was really… nice, Sherlock,” Molly says as they pause in front of her building.
He takes her hand, slowly bringing it to his lips. Just before he touches his mouth to her knuckles he looks into her eyes and says, “I love you.”
“Yes, I know,” she replies flatly. “You’ve told me everyday for the last three weeks.”
Warning lights start to flash in Sherlock’s mind. Danger! Danger! He aborts the hand kissing for the moment and takes a step back. “Is something the matter?” he asks tentatively.
Molly sighs and motions to the steps, then takes a seat. Sherlock follows, sitting next to her. “I’m just…” she starts, staring at the office building across the street. Then her head drops, she runs her fingers through her loose hair. “How do I put this?”
“You can be honest with me, Molly, if something’s wrong…”
“This feels unreal,” she interrupts.
“The dinners, the romance, the constant ‘I love yous’. I’m not sure what to make of it all.”
He is stunned and, if he’s honest, he’s also hurt.
Molly is looking at him, big brown eyes searching for… something, but he has no idea what. He was certain that he’d gotten it right. Pamper her, take her out, shower her with affection…love her. Damn…
“Say something, Sherlock! Are you faking any of this this?” she demands.
“NO!” is all he can manage.
“I didn’t actually think you were, but…” She looks away, shaking her head. “It’s just not like I imagined. Us.” She motions between the two of them. “This. I thought we’d hang out at your flat, playing with cancerous livers and fooling around. I thought you’d want to keep us secret, not parade me all around London. I never expected you to tell me that you love me every single day.”
It hasn’t been every single day. He’d gotten caught on a case eight days ago, and forgotten to tell her. He told her twice the next day to make up for it. “This isn’t what you want?” he asks in a voice he almost doesn’t recognise.
Molly turns and cups his face. “I love you. But you know that, don’t you?”
“And I know you love me. You don’t have to constantly tell me, unless you really want to.”
I do, he thinks.
“I believed it the first time you said it, though I don’t think you had a clue you were saying it,” she says with a knowing smile.
Wait, what? That doesn’t make any…
“And all the romance is sweet, but unnecessary.”
This time he turns, pulling her hands away from his face. “I wanted to make up for how you found out. That awful phone call…”
“That wasn’t the first time you said it, Sherlock.”
“Of course it was.”
She laughs, shaking her head and biting her lip. “You really don’t remember, do you?”
No, no he didn’t.
“Twice. You said it twice before that.”
“I had a very interesting voice mail the morning after John’s stag night.” She looks around as if trying to remember something, a wicked smile on her face. “Ah, yes: ‘Molly, Molly Hooper. My Molly. My pathologist. I love you more than a locked room triple murder.’ Then you said something about ash and disconnected.”
He was speechless. But he took a moment to enjoy the fact that she seemed to have memorised the voicemail.
“I chalked it up to drunkenness.” She pauses, studying him. “I didn’t believe it. People say a lot of things when they’re drunk. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”
Unless it is and I’ve loved you for years, he thinks. The realisation had hit him after Sherrinford. After returning to Baker Street he had taken a moment and let himself think about the ramifications of those words. Then he’d realised that he had meant them. He loved her. He hadn’t spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how long he’d loved Molly Hooper, just that he did. The next day he was at her door with a dozen roses, an explanation and what he thought was his first not forced I love you.
“Then there was the hospital…”
That could mean anything. Please don’t let it be when I was high. “What about the hospital, Molly?”
“It was after you were shot. Well, when they rushed you back after you pulled a runner. I was working and John phoned me. I met him in Trauma and he asked me to sit with you after you stabilised. He needed to talk to Mary about something. You’d lost a lot of blood, plus they’d pumped you full of pain meds. You were in and out of consciousness.”
“I have no memory of this.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“What did I say?”
“You thought John was still in the room, you were talking to him,” she explains.
“And you said: ‘Promise me, John.’” Molly’s voice breaks just a little and she clears her throat before continuing. “‘Promise me, John. If I die, tell Molly that I love her. Tell her that…”
“You said that you locked me away for safekeeping. That you put me into a room to watch over your heart. Can you imagine?” she says with glistening eyes and a sweet smile. “I tried not to think about those words, Sherlock. All this time I told myself that you were just high on narcotics and very, very near death. That it meant nothing. Then that phone call…”
“I know. Maybe I shouldn’t have made you say…”
“No,” he stops her. “I’m glad that you did. I don’t remember the others, but I remember that one. The one that made me think. The one that brought us here.” He wonders how he’s become this sappy, romantic fool in such a short amount of time, then he thinks about what Molly just told him. He considers the idea that he’d locked her away in a room in his mind palace, abstract as that may be, and realises that perhaps it’s just another thing he’s pushed away, like his feelings for this woman.
Molly’s hand on his brings him out of his thoughts; he squeezes it and looks at her. “So you want me to tone down the hearts and flowers?”
Her whole face brightens. “A bit. I’d love to just stay in and talk about… well anything or,” Her cheeks turn pink, so pink she’s practically glowing in the street lights. “Or nothing. We could not talk if you like.”
Ah, not talking means snogging or probably, most likely, shagging. “I could be talked into not talking, if you twisted my arm,” he says with what he hopes is a boyish grin. Then he stands, holding out his hand and helps Molly to her feet. They walk toward her door and he’s hoping she plans on inviting him in for a bit of not talking right now. But there’s one more thing. “Molly?”
She’s looking for her keys at the bottom of her large bag. He’ll pull his out in a minute to stop the fruitless search. She looks up and says, “Yes?”
“I’m still allowed to say I love you, right?”
“Of course you are. Just don’t say it because you think you have to.”
That’s fine with him. He’d never once said it because he had to.
Ok OKOK so Luda was what got me interested in WJSN. She’s so pretty and always looks good. She has no bad angle. But those looks mean nothing in your relationship. Other than the fact her smiles leave you breathless. “You’re so beautiful,” you sigh.
Which always makes her laugh. “The real beautiful one here is you,” she says. And Luda really means it. In her eyes, you were the greatest person in the world. No one could ever top you.
Although she can be quiet, when it comes to you, she is anything but quiet. She talks about you as if you’re an angel. If you’re anyway good at sport, art, an instrument or even just make good cupcakes, she’ll be sure to brag.
“My jagi is really talented, have I mentioned this before?”
“YES! ALL THE TIME!”
No matter how extremely she has to diet for a comeback, her first concern is always with you. She wants to make sure you’re eating well. And texts you often. Gets so excited when you send her aesthetic pics of food or sugary treats since she knows you’re eating well.
Sends you such cute snaps. There’s nine whole seconds of her flirtatiously looking pretty then in the last second there’s a close up of her crossing her eyes BUT IT’S TOO QUICK TO SCREENSHOT GDI.
She wants you to sleep over as often as possible. Having someone warm to cuddle is not only relaxing but spending time with you is fun ~ Even lazily laying next to her, voice growing hoarse and talking about stupid things is amazing. It’s those small things, with bare faced little Luda in your arms, that make you realize how lucky you are to have her.
“I love you,” you say.
She smiles sheepishly. “Love you too.”
Likes listening to music with you. Which always ends in either chaos, with you both belting out some classic kpop like BEG or Shinhwa songs. Or you both fall asleep to the sweet melody of SNSD’s ballads.
Loves to cuddle. And also loves to see you cuddle the girls. She feels no jealousy, only happiness at seeing you bond with her members.
She’s honestly just the cutest gf. There are times when you can’t be together, such as when she’s busy with being an idol, but that’s okay. There’s no need to be together 24/7. You have lives away from each other and a life together and that’s great! Although her career is her dream, you’ve been worming your way to the top place in her life. You and her family mean everything. When she dreams of the future, she imagines being your wife and watching her parents spoil their grandchild/ren. Luda is very happy with her life and what the future holds. But most of all, she’s excited to go through the journey with you ~
Prompt: Best Man Lin sneaks alcohol to a wedding and asks a lonely Y/N for a dance.
Pairing: Lin x reader
A/N: It’s here! This is my longest fic EVER. This was inspired by the pictures from the Chicago magazine that, at the moment, I can’t seem to think of. But I KNOW you guys know what I’m talking about. The one with the blue suit? Lin was SO handsome in the pictures! Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!
Three months ago, you received a wedding invitation from your childhood best friend. Even though you and Amelia have drifted apart over the years, you still remember your silly teenage conversations with her about the “perfect” wedding. With a quick glance at the beautiful gothic-styled church, you were delighted to find it was exactly what she imagined it to be.
You fidgeted nervously in your car, watching as strikingly dressed couples and families made their way to the church.
You’ve never been to a wedding alone before.
You tried not to linger on the last minute cancellation from your plus one, but you couldn’t help to feel anxious as you watched strangers pass your car. Other than her family members, you didn’t know a single person at the wedding.
Mustering up all your courage, you climbed out of your car, smoothing down the invisible wrinkles on your nude colored dress. You started to walk towards the church, smiling politely at the people you passed.
At the entrance, people were gathered around a table, signing the guest book. Three men donning blue suits and white button-up shirts were off to the side, greeting guests as they passed them.
Must be the groomsmen, you thought, giggling quietly at their contagious energy and gleaming smiles.
Seeing that the table was finally free, you stepped forward to examine the book. Guests signed their names and added a brief message to the couple. You tapped the pen against the table, pondering on what to write.
“Hi, are you with the groom or the bride?”
You turn towards the voice, surprised to find one of the groomsmen next to you.
He was handsome, with a five o’clock shadow and perfectly quaffed hair. An easy smile was on his lips, radiating a friendly attitude.
“The bride,” you say, returning his smile. “I was a childhood friend of Amelia’s,” you explain at his quirked brow.
“I’m Henry’s cousin,” the man, whom you officially dubbed Mr. Handsome, replies.
Silence settles in between the two of you, and the same uncertainty that you’ve felt earlier started to creep up your spine.
“Here, don’t forget to grab the bubbles,” he says suddenly, taking a couple bottles from a basket beside the guest book. “We’re going to use them after the ceremony.”
You accept them, chuckling, and tuck them into your clutch. “Thank you.”
He grins and was about to say something further when a frazzled young woman holding a clipboard grasped his arm and tugged him towards the other groomsmen.
“Pictures! We need pictures before the ceremony,” she urges, voice shrill.
Mr. Handsome barely had time to wave goodbye to you before he was ushered outside.
Why do you think season 10 Scully is dead inside? :( She's doing good work by helping children :(
She’s doing wonderful work, fulfilling work, but imagine the emotional weight of all the children she couldn’t save.
Imagine watching your passionate, dedicated, excitable husband become a shadow of himself right in front of your eyes. Imagine knowing there’s literally nothing you can do to help him - he won’t take the meds you prescribe him, he won’t eat, he won’t sleep, he won’t show up at the therapist’s office. He won’t even shower.
Imagine your child, your miracle child, your little boy, not even knowing who you are - growing up without you, because your life is so fucked up that even being associated with you is endangering his life. Imagine only knowing your first child for two weeks, before she dies a painful and terrifying death. Imagine not knowing if you have more children out there, children crafted from your ova, children fated to die. Imagine that your sister is dead because someone wanted to kill you. Imagine that you haven’t spoken to one of your brothers in years, and now imagine that your other brother treats you like he hates you.
Imagine having a chip in your neck that tracks your every move. Imagine the horror of immortality. Imagine being abducted, medically raped, experimented upon, kidnapped by psychopaths, exiled, all because you followed your heart down a rabbit hole in 1993.
Scully isn’t dead inside, not truly. But she is exhausted. And she better get some goddamned reparations in season 11.
You didn’t know how long you had been asleep, but
when you woke, the lighting in Steve’s room was different and had a warm glow
that you didn’t recall when you had laid down next to him. For all you
knew, it could be just the mood you were in, feeling secure and peaceful for
those few minutes or hours or however long you had been nestled under his
Could I request a soulmate au where Oikawa's soulmate finds out before he does and starts to hide the tattoo on her wrist that matches his because she's afraid of him and his fangirls. Oikawa finds out she's been hiding it but she really hesitant.
Oikawa Soulmate AU (female pronouns used!!)
Love- it’s meant to be something perfect. The desire to find your soulmate is overwhelming.
Now imagine hiding from your soulmate.
All she could do is watch as her soulmate continued his daily life, the tattoo on his wrist likewise to hers- a scar. She could’ve confessed, showed him the tattoo which was etched onto her wrist like a curse but the curse from Oikawa’s fangirls was bigger. Like minions, they followed him around everywhere, begging for his love.
Pathetic really, considering they all had their own soulmates. Yet, they were chasing someone else’s. Her hatred for the tattoo had harbored each day as she wished she could just tell him but it was impossible if she didn’t want a stake in her heart.
Maybe that would be for the best- a simple end to this madness.
Everytime she walked by, he would greet her “Hello (y/n)-chan!”. She’d just mumble, pulling down her sleeve to hide the tattoo. Nobody could find out her and Oikawa were soulmates.
That’s when it changed.
Rumors were spread after one of the girls in her fitness class has spotted her tattoo, noticing it was the same as Oikawa’s and the news spread like wildfire.
“I can’t believe you’re Oikawa’s soulmate, he deserves better.” Those were the daily taunts that followed her with every step.
Then, he found out.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Oikawa inquired as his orbs scanned the tattoo on her wrist, his heart thumping in his chest.
“I didn’t want to risk death by your fangirls.”
This earned a sigh from a male, he pulled her close and whispered in her ear: “They don’t matter now - we’re soulmates.”
A/N: IM RLY SORRY THIS IS SO BAD IT’S MY FIRST SOULMATE AU IDK HOW TO DO THESE IM SORRY
Remadora prompt!!! Remus waking up earlier than Tonks and looking at her and thinking happily
(Ahaha, I like how you specified happily, it made me laugh; I’ll try my best!)
Remus awoke, as he often did, with his feet freezing. Suppressing a sleepy grumble, he rolled over and tucked them up under the legs of the reason for this morning ritual, his wife, who slept as if she was caught in a tornado, perpetually spinning until most of the blankets tangled around her like a spool of string. Her head–topped with wild tangerine curls–was flung back against the pillows, her arms stretched one above her head and the other somehow underneath her. Both her legs were on his side of the bed, through some sort of magic only she owned, though it suited his warming purposes just fine. And peeking through the twisted pile of quilt and sheet was her big belly, sans nightshirt as it was lost somewhere in the chaos of comfort. He squashed the wild rise of panic, of guilt, of shame, and–somehow even more agonizing– of hope. He had done that, given in and run but he knew better, now. He knew he would not, could not WOULD not lose this again to something so ugly as fear, no matter how much churned in his gut like acid.
Tonks heaved a single, snorting snore and flopped toward him, half on his pillow already and went silent again. Her curls unwound and relaxed as she did, trailing across her face. A smile crept across his face as he reached out to brush them away and loosen the sheet that was threatening to strangle her. No, never again. She didn’t deserve rejection and cowardice; of anyone he knew, she deserved it least of all. 25 and full of choices, of possibilities and she had wanted him, had chosen him. He tried to remember what he had been doing when he was 25; being homeless, useless, and hungry, if he recalled correctly. No more war to give him purpose, no more Marauders to give him life he just…wandered. In the beginning of their relationship, as inexplicable it had seemed to him, he had tried to find them in her; James’s careless generosity, Sirius’s reckless, loving bravado, Peter’s wide and inclusive grins, Lily’s lightning fast wit. Could she fill a hole made by 4 people, he had wondered? Could she be what he had had?
No, he had found, because she didn’t need to be. Her smiles were different, her jokes, her giving, her gifts. She was a differently shaped peg for another place in him than they had been, and it had struck him how selfish he had been to not have realized that when he had asked what she saw in him. Instead of saying anything, she had looked at him and changed. He was first baffled; this face didn’t mean anything to him–a bright eyed man peering at him with quiet patience and a slight smile. And then he saw the scars, so less prominent and obvious than they were in his unconscious internal map of himself, the graying temples silvery and sleek, the face he shaved every morning looking slender and fine boned rather than gaunt and haggard. But what unnerved him, stopped his breath, his speech, his heart was the gentleness in her–his–eyes the warmth. She made him look safe, look peaceful, look –
He had jerked to his feet, knocking his chair. His hands had raised, shaking–to ward her off? To cover his mouth? To touch her face? To negate and protest and correct, no that’s not me how have you got it so wrong why do you think there’s room for that inside me? He hadn’t known but had swallowed, hard and dry and managed a thick, “You…” before clamping down hard on his surreal panic and started again. “You have quite a imagination. But you need to work on your impressions.“
She had merely watched him, amber eyes gentled more in sadness. “No. This is what I see.”
“No, Remus, YOU look.” She spoke not in his voice but not her own, some in between tenor. “Actually look. Don’t think, or argue, or,” she gave him a knowing look that boggled his mental equilibrium even more, “panic. You say you’re not the man you were, not young, not safe, not whatever adjective you like to pretend matters to me. But I didn’t know you before; I know you NOW. And this is what I see. What I know. I don’t pretend with you, ever. You shouldn’t have to, either. Tell ME straight, now. What do you see in me?“
And, God help him, the only thing that came to his mind and out of his mouth amid the storm or screaming thoughts was, "A future,” whispered, and he knew she knew it meant ‘everything’.
He still saw that future now, in his content sleepiness, in her face, in her growing belly, in her now groggy, squinting, amber eyes. She blinked.
Wherein Audrey asked for filthy Lokane prompts and got them.
iamartemisday said: Okay, so Loki disguises himself as Thor to get Jane into bed with him, except Jane figures out right away that it’s not really Thor (maybe Loki says something Jane knows Thor would never say), but she goes along with it anyway because it’s not like she’s ever going to get the real Thor in bed like this since he never sticks around long enough, so why the fuck not? And Loki might actually know that she knows but it’s kind of ambiguous and the whole this is a big fucked up mess and they love it.
startraveller776: #43 Diary (Smut Prompt) from Lokane Fanfic Prompts. (Jane is happily married to Thor, the most wonderful man she’s ever met in her life. Despite this- and the near idyllic life they share- she finds herself constantly daydreaming about Thor’s black sheep younger brother, Loki. Day after day, she imagines what it would be like to be with him, until it comes to invade her actual dreams. She wakes up sweaty and aroused almost every night after that. She can’t even have sex with Thor anymore without picturing Loki. Ashamed of herself, Jane finds a seemingly perfect way to release her illicit desires without anyone getting hurt: she writes them all down in a journal. Page after page is filled with detailed descriptions of all the devious things she wishes Loki would do to her (and vice versa). It proves a helpful method of coping, and Jane figures she can go on like this forever by burning each journal as she finishes it and then starting a new one. She’s getting ready to do just that when she walks into her and Thor’s bedroom to find Loki flipping through her journal, reading all the steamy scenarios she’s come up with for the two of them. He is amazed at how dirty her mind is. He also wants to try out a few of these fantasies of hers. And much as she tries, Jane is powerless to resist him.
flameysaur said: They need each other. They want each other. They hate each other. They will never, ever, love each other.
I dedicate this violent psychologically and physically abusive dubcon fuckfest to my friendship with halfpennytumbles. (Which features none of those things, for the record.) Also, people who watch The Grand will notice that there’s inspiration from what is possibly the hottest scene ever recorded on television. Did I mention you should watch that show? Because you should watch that show.
Trigger warning: basically everything.
Apparently, one cannot carry a pre-creation singularity in one’s bloodstream for the better part of a week without some side effects. Jane kind of wishes she’d chosen biology as her secondary or tertiary degree (particle physics and quantum mechanics, respectively)… or was friends with an M.D…. or had friends at all, really. Then she’d have someone to ask about whether she’s hallucinating.
Because Loki, who is supposed to be ash on Svaltheim, is following her.
inspired by ‘Dancing On My Own’ - Robyn (Calum Scott cover)
Word count: 1,249
“come on, getting out of the house will take your mind off of things.”
“i don’t know. what if we bump into him?”
“i’ll be right by your side. i promise.”
that night you decided to give into your friend, and go out. after her pleading for almost a week, you knew it was doing you no good to be cooped up indoors all day. it was a month after Luke broke up with you, he never really did give you a real explanation to it. said it was because he wasn’t ready to be committed. of course it stung just hearing those words, after you gave your all to him. but he made it clear that he didn’t want you to fight for him.
you nodded with hesitation, still battling with the decision to go or not. but before you could even change your mind, your friend linked her arm with yours and walked you out. you didn’t have far to walk, unfortunately you didn’t live too far from a club. wasn’t one of your best ideas, but the apartment was pretty cheap.
the queue for bar was extremely long, meaning it would be even busier inside. crowds were not your thing, especially at this moment in time. but with the promise of your friend being by your side the whole night, it eased you slightly.
“go on in, girls.”
your friend thanked the bouncer, giving him a lowkey fist bump before turning to you and winking.
“i know him.”
as soon as you was surrounded by darkness, loud music and a few dimmed lights you began to feel a little uneasy. your friends hand never left yours, as she gently tugged you through the dancing crowds, occasionally turning her head to make sure you were okay.
“there’s a table over there.” she yelled over the music.
you nodded to her, following behind her, avoiding the people that were now bumping into you. although apologies were being thrown at you, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed by the physical contact.
you finally reached the table, throwing your bag down beside you. sighing in relief, you looked to your friend, she had managed to break a heel before the night had officially begun.
“that’s just great.” she laughed, lifting up her shoe.
“barefoot could be your new thing.” you winked.
your eyes wandered over the crowds, obviously looking out for him. even though you didn’t want to see him, you kind of hoped he’d be here. but the darkness consumed the faces of the dancers, making it hard to make any one out.
“i’ll get us a drink, you gonna be alright here for a minute?”
“yeah, sure.” you smiled, faintly.
she pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at you. “okay… stay there.”
as the lights began to flash, you managed to see a few faces. none of them recognizable, but their happiness made you envy them. your eyes scanned over their beaming faces, until you came across your friend, she was waving at you, a big smile on her lips. it brought one to yours, as you watched her what you could only imagine was how she danced.
your phone became your sudden distraction, as you checked for messages that weren’t coming.
“here you go” your friend passed you a drink, taking your attention away from your phone.
“thanks” you smiled, sighing softly.
“he’s not worth it, Y/N.”
caught of guard, you stared blankly at your friend. “Luke.. he’s not worth it.” she added.
“i know. i do.” you shrugged.
“good. now lets just enjoy tonight, and when we’re finished here, we can get some food, because i am absolutely starving.”
laughing, for real this time. you didn’t notice the guy across the floor staring at you. watching as you laughed with your friend, both of your hands covering your mouth just like always.
“Luke? what are you looking at?”
his head snapped to the girl standing beside him, looking to him displeased she awaited for the answer that he didn’t have.
“nothing, babe.” he falsely smiled.
“are we gonna dance?” your friend asked
“hmm, i’m not so sure we’re capable of that.” you laughed.
for the first time in weeks, you were actually enjoying yourself. and the thoughts of Luke were pushed aside, where they belonged. your laugh and smile were more genuine than they had been for a while.
“oh come on! we’ve gotta at least try.” she pleaded.
“oh alright, i’ll meet you out there.”
your friend jumped off her seat, flinging her heels under the table and rushed off to the dance floor. you almost lost sight of her in the crowds as you watched out for her. smiling as you spotted her dancing in the middle of the floor, but you were immediately distracted by the tall blonde kissing a girl up against the far wall.
your heart stopped for a moment, as you took in the sight, unsure if it was him. you stood up, getting a better glimpse of the two, his hand on her waist, the other holding her face. as their lips parted, you knew it was him. that same smile that you used to be blessed with every morning, was right there.
he hadn’t even noticed you were now stood there, staring at him and his friends. you didn’t recognize the girl he was with, most likely some new girl he met. but the anger soon struck you as you remembered why he broke up with you.
your friend stared back at you, her eyes narrowing as she slowly crept closer to you. when she was close enough to see where you were really looking, she snapped her attention to Luke. her eyes widened, before she quickly turned back to you.
“shit, shit, shit.” she murmured to herself, pushing past the crowds to get to you.
your eyes were locked on him, but there were no tears in your eyes. just the anger boiling up inside of you. for weeks, you had been this empty shell of yourself, while he was out here with another girl, after telling you that he wasn’t ready to commit. even if she was just some hookup, it stung.
your friend pulled you towards, her, looking in your eyes. “let’s go.” she smiled, trying to ease the tension.
your eyes kept wandering back to them, although you couldn’t hear the laugh above the music, it was the loudest thing you could hear. that girl grabbing onto Luke’s arm, as she kept pulling him into her, her lips caressing his cheek. drunk obviously, as she sluggishly threw herself at him.
“come on, Y/N. we’ll go get some food.” your friend tugged on your arm.
you sighed, agreeing to leave with her. your eyes didn’t look back to them, it hurt too much to see him smile, while you were broken.
“Luke, i wanna dance” the girl practically screamed over the music.
“one sec, babe.”
he carried on talking to his friends, before she began to pull him back into her. taking his attention away from them. “come on.” she whispered, crashing her lips into his.
you managed to creep past his friends, but was stopped in your tracks as Luke locked eyes with you. his mouth gaped open, as you stared blankly at him. he made no effort to look away, but you were snapped out of your daze when your friend pulled you forward.