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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 77: Like a Good Old-Fashioned Barn Raising

Chapters: 77/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time

Summary: Buridag begins!

Loki was awake long before you were, getting preparations ready, loose ends tied up, last minute orders sent out. He allowed you to sleep until you woke on your own, having removed his little illusory alarms from you some time ago.

Sometimes flower petals still rained upon you, and perfume rose from your footsteps, but no more snakes in the bath.

So you rose slowly, stretching and yawning the grogginess away at your own pace. Time was very hard to tell by looking out windows at this time of year, but when Loki entered the room carrying an egg sandwich, a little pile of fresh potato chips, and a glass of coffee, you placed yourself firmly within brunch territory.

Loki flicked on your sunlamp, gestured at the chair, and handed you your brunch once you'd taken your seat.

You munched your food and absorbed your light while Loki laid out the day's plans. You'd get dressed in a ceremonial outfit that included your armor and helmet, and join the parade that was gathering even now.

They were initially going to put you on Sleipnir. You had asked them not to. Sleipnir was magnificent, but you had no connection to him, nor to Leynarodd, who was the second choice. Your sweet, stout, shaggy little Acorn was who you preferred, a horse that belonged to no one initially, but who had formed a trusting bond with you.

Your clothing was, predictably, green, the underdress and apron a dark mossy color, hemmed on all edges with fine gold braid, embroidered with stripes of delicate knotwork, and your mark, also in gold. Over the top of this went your quilted tunic, in it's shimmering jade, and then your armor; the breastplate, the tassets, the bracers, pauldrons, greaves, and poleyns, though the last two were not visible. They went on over the leather trousers you'd been given to wear under your dress. They were sleek things, made of tough black leather, pleated in diagonal patterns, just like something Loki would wear. You thought the pleats had the advantage of putting more leather between you and any danger, and were flexible as well.

There were actually places where your familiar oval brooches could be fastened, your strings of shining beads strung between, your chatelaine dangled. Your belt was tooled leather and brass findings, hung with a leather purse, your Yggdrasil phone case, a small drinking horn carved with your mark, and of course, your knife. A little burst of deep pink against all the gold, green, and black.

You wore a minty-green velvet cape, a gift from Andsvarr, and your beautiful helmet to top it all off. You truly looked like something out of a fantasy novel, someone who looked like they should be standing next to the legendary figure that Loki currently cut.

He looked enormous, with his many asymmetrical layers, and molded shoulder guards, his billowing cape and hair spilling from beneath his magnificent curling horns. He shone with nornbein, and his cloak, shot with silk, shimmered subtly.

“You're so beautiful.” you mumbled. Loki smiled, and leaned down to adjust your cape, cheeks dusted with pink.

“Thank you.” he said, “I make every attempt. Though I think I will fade into the background under the power of your radiance.”

Warmth rushed to your face.

“Um, I know we've got to hurry and get Acorn, but I want to ask you a favor, Loki.”

“Anything. Tell me what it is and I'll make it so.”

You took a deep breath.

“I need you to stop trying to impress my father.”

The pink on his cheeks transformed into bright red.

“Ah. Yes, I rather hashed that, didn't I? I apologize. I thought that was still standard procedure, but your father, uh, explained otherwise.”

“Mhm, I'll bet he did. Look, I know you wanted to surprise us, but when it comes to things like that, you really oughta run it by me first. I could have told you that wouldn't work out the way you thought it would. You know, saved you from being chewed out like that. You can let me save you sometimes too.”

“ Like with the Huldra.”

“Kinda. Dad's not as bloodthirsty as she was, but he's a lot more stubborn.”

“Like father, like daughter, hm?” he teased.

“You have not seen me be stubborn yet.” you warned, and he gave you a quick smooch.

“A blessing, I'm sure. Very well, I agree. Surprises get run by you. Anything to save me from another tongue lashing. That man truly does not hold back.”

“I mean it though.” you persisted. “I'm not saying that you can't have any surprises at all, but talk to me about big stuff like that. If it's something that Asgardian law or custom would demand, but would be insulting to a human, we can maybe hash out an alternative that would satisfy both. That's the point, isn't it? Please, I really don't want to deal with anymore trouble between you two. Don't get hung up on impressing him, he has every reason to reject it, and he will. No more gifts, no toasts, no calling attention to him in public, nothing. He hates being the center of attention. Just let him be a guest, and see, without interference, that his little girl is doing fine on her own.”

“I really didn't mean to make him so angry.” Loki said, a little crestfallen. “And the more I tried to explain, the angrier he became. I just wanted him to know how much I value you. I wanted you to know too.”

“Material culture is different where I'm from. There are places in the world where that would have been understood and appreciated, but we've stopped doing it. In the same vein, fathers don't make all the decisions for their daughters anymore, so you don't actually need his approval. But...I need you to understand, it's not just that you took away his child, though that's bad enough. It's that I'm the only family he has left. My grandma only had one kid, and that was my dad. And she's dead, and so's my granddad, before I was even born. And then my mom died, and Beth too, and so I'm all that's left for him. And I have this giant Sword of Damocles hanging over my head all the time, and he's had to worry about that for my whole life. Most of the women on my mom's side all died from this, but occasionally, rarely, there's one that doesn't. I'm starting to hope that might be me. Maybe the magic is protecting me. But he's not going to be able to accept that so easily. I'm all he had left, and you took me away. That's all that's going to be important to him. You didn't even have to do the things you did in New York, this is the worst possible crime you could commit, in his eyes.”

Loki heaved a sigh of remorse. “And I cannot even return you to him. It seems there is one more thing I cannot set right.”

“The best you can do is make sure I'm okay. And don't bother him anymore. And maybe let him come visit more often. The more he sees me living my life and being fine, the more confidence he will have that I'm actually safe here.”

“I shall endeavor to help you thrive.” Loki promised.

“All right, so if that's settled, we should go get our horses.”

******

Acorn was, like you, a bit overdressed in your opinion. Long tabbards and blankets covered her from nose to rump, green and gold, embroidered with oak leaves. They were so long, they almost brushed the ground. Ribbons were braided into her wild mane and tail, and bells jingled with every movement. Like you, she could barely be seen under her splendor. But she was probably warm, and happily accepted a carrot from your hand. Placid as always, she let you up on her back, and fell into step behind Leynarodd, who likewise, followed up behind Sleipnir, whose hooves still rang like bells even over the thin layer of packed snow that covered the recently cleared streets.

There was a whole procession of people-this was a parade after all, and Thor, on Sleipnir, was preceded by the twin Valkyries, carrying Asgardian banners, as well as several musicians, and Beli, who chanted an ancient epic on the exploits of Buri.

Saga had translated the chant for you a while ago, and it sounded something like the sensationalized, self-aggrandizing boasts of pharaohs, or Mesopotamian kings-the kind that claimed to be rulers of the world, or rulers of the heavens themselves, to have battled armies of demons, killed giant lions with only a stick-that sort of thing. But when Beli called out those verses in such an ancient dialect of Asgardian, the words themselves felt powerful.

Thor followed slowly, Sliepnir plodding along, both of them absolutely huge. Loki and Leynarodd came right behind, only slightly smaller. And then you and Acorn, almost comical in your stature, diminutive by comparison. You were keenly aware of it, but either all of Asgard was too polite to say anything about it, or they simply didn't care.

The human guests, corralled in roped off areas, whooped and cheered when when you passed. Behind you, more musicians played, and a circle of Seidkonas walked in silent dignity. Then came more banners, the rest of the Valkyries, representatives of each noble house and guild, and the rest of the Aesir in Asgard, provided they didn't already have another position in the parade.

After them, the gathered Asgardians began following, lengthening out the procession, bright balls of magical light bobbing overhead. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and would be slinking away in a mere three or so hours, so the mage lights sparkled everywhere. Helpful Einherjar herded the humans to the next specially roped off area, so they could follow the parade as well; you caught a few amused faces at the playful rowdiness displayed by celebrating humans.

That was just how humans were when they were excited about something. Humans loved to holler, to jump, and dance, and clap. Some of them were even trying to keep time with the music.

You weren't actually able to pick out your father or Tara in the crowd, nor anyone else you knew, so you just kept your head forward and your back straight, trying to look as dignified as you could.

You'd only ever seen a few of what you considered 'proper' parades: in a small town a parade mostly consisted of people waving from the backs of neighborhood pickup trucks and tractors, maybe decorated with balloons or paper chains, blasting music from dusty old speakers. In the autumn, there might be pumpkins and corn stalks, and usually hayrides. But never anything like this spectacle.

As you got closer to the construction site, the apprentice mages responsible for all the floating lights started throwing sparks from their hands, like colorful sparklers. The gathered Asgardians began lining up in their designated areas, ready to play their part. The foundations had already been dug, and everything that needed to go into them was already there. All that remained was the pouring.

Thor, Loki, and yourself dismounted as close to in unison as you could manage, the horses carefully lead away to a temporary enclosure. You headed to the stack of decorative bricks, and took your place among the Asgardians there, while Thor gave the order for the cement to pour.

While this went on, Beli gathered his students and skalds in front of the Huldrastone to recite a modern epic. Within the first few verses you realized that it was about the Huldra's attack, and your confrontation with her.

Of course, the poem was much cleaner and more elegant than the actual events had been, but certain things had still been included. Your ears burned beneath your helmet when Beli reached the part where you had 'bestowed upon the fallen prince, a gentle sacrificial kiss, knowing that to trade life for life would grant him breath once more.'

You had finally spotted your father and Tara in the crowd; he crossed his arms and glared upon hearing the verse, while Tara gave you a cheezy grin and thumbs up.

As the poem reached its conclusion, the cement finished pouring, and a new recitation began. As Thor and Loki knelt and began scratching ritual runes into the wet cement, Beli's current group of student came forward and began telling the story of Beli, while apprentice mages illustrated the words with colorful, stylized illusions.

There were harrowing battles against huge stone people, the construction of the original Bifrost, which at that time connected a fleet of alien ships to one another. The illusions showed the gathering of construction materials, the building of a platform in space, and the grand revelation of the crystalline platform upon which Asgard slowly grew. Mountain and plain, river and ocean, building after magnificent building rose into the sky. Their ships captured and carved an asteroid, then set it in orbit as a bright new moon. All this was accomplished by the use of a glowing, icy blue cube that was difficult to look directly at. It was compelling though; it caught and held your attention with its beautiful, sparkling light.

You knew what that device was: you had learned about it in your lessons with Saga. It was the object known as the Tesseract, a four dimensional creation meant to house the incredible energy of an Infinity Stone. Perhaps that was why it was simultaneously fascinating, yet hard to perceive. Your curious human brain was drawn to its uniqueness, yet equally unable to fully fathom it.

That device was the key to Asgard's existence and eventual success. It was unthinkable to you that Odin had just lost it on Earth, as Sagas histories had proclaimed. It must have been a terrible loss.

Thor and Loki completed their carving, and began the process of imbuing the foundations with divine power. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and there was a pricking in your sinuses, like you were about to sneeze. There was almost a flavor to it.

The actual blessing didn't take nearly as long as the rune carving ritual, and soon, the two brothers stepped back, to allow others to begin their work. More mages worked a spell together that lifted the water out of the cement, drying it within moments. People came forward with wires and pipes, floor and wall supports, insulation, hammers, plaster, bricks, and mortar. In rotating lines people laid flooring and installed fixtures, scraped grout and assembled frames. Every now and then youths moved through, sweeping up dust, always away from you.

It suddenly became clear that that was why you were so far back in line, why you'd been assigned a decorative brick, something that would be placed near the very end of the construction. There would be no dust then. Gratitude swelled in your chest, but you said nothing. There was singing now, simple, repetitive melodies that sounded like work songs.

Every hour, volunteers carted huge, heated cauldrons around the lines and groups of human spectators, dipping out hot drinks like witch's potions, and it was possible that there was a simple sort of magic in things like hot chocolate, strong coffee, and buttered rum on a cold day.

The building went up faster than you thought possible, the widows, doors, and lights being set into place as auroras began ribboning across the sky.

Finally, there was one brick left. You lifted it up, as the singing seemed to intensify, scooped some mortar from the pail, and fitted it all into the only remaining slot. Giving the brick a light pat to make sure it was secure, you turned back to the assembled crowd.

“We did it.” You said, and the cheering began.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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halcyonnhood · 4 years

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Ramen, Baking and Glitter || l.h

Summary: Luke realizes he loves his best friend while on tour and confronts the feelings when he sees her again.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: possibly a few curse words.

Authors note: The italics are Luke's memories of her! After the asterisks (***) is when they're back in LA and in present tense. I hope the format looks okay, I typed this out on my phone. Also the OC is very special to me (more about that in the tags.) I may write more about her and Luke.

- - -

The band 5 seconds of summer have travelled thousands of miles over the years. They've explored new countries, cities, and towns. They've met new fans, friends, and probably too many flirty humans. Luke enjoys every last bit of it, he thrives on the attention. Yet, no amount of love from fans manages to take his mind off one of his best friends waiting back in LA for him. Everything happens to remind him of Sarah.

When the boys stayed in Japan, Michael had demanded to stop for ‘proper’ ramen before they left the country. Of course, no one had the heart to deny him his love for traditional Japanese food. The four of them had been bantering and talking about plans when the longing had struck Luke. He was mid bite of his chicken ramen and all he can remember is the silly heated debate he and Sarah had before the tour.

Sarah tosses the bright orange bag back at Luke and scrunched her nose in disgust. She hadn't eaten all day and upon arriving at Luke's house, she decided she wanted to fix something easy. So naturally, she rummaged through his cabinets and made Luke reach the ramen shoved on the top shelf. When he handed the orange bag to her with “chicken flavored” printed across the top, she felt like she was going to have a brain hemorrhage. Now she just stares up at the top shelf in disappointment, as if red bags would magically appear instead.

“I want ramen.” Sarah tells him with pouted lips.

“You just threw the ramen at me,” Luke says. He points at the bag on the counter.

“Yeah, because that's disgusting.” She makes sure to enunciate the word disgusting. “It's chicken.”

“What do you have against chicken ramen? You like chicken, we literally just had some last night.” Luke questions.

“Ya, we had grilled chicken. It's the flavoring in the ramen, it's weird.”

“What kind do you like then?”

“Beef.” Sarah says. She gives him a playful smile when he rolls his eyes at her, “It is the only acceptable ramen.”

“It is not!” He argues. “You're just wrong, you monster. Chicken is a classic,”

She fake gags, “I have taste buds, you giant oaf. Now we have to go to the store because you're wrong.”

Luke spent the rest of the Japan trip thinking about Sarah. He thought about how much he missed her randomly dropping by his house and pretending she owned it. He thought about how she would've really enjoyed eating traditional ramen instead of the instant kind, she would never want to leave the foreign country. Lastly, he made a mental note to buy the girl all the beef ramen she could ever want and to find a restaurant that serves the real stuff. He knows something so small would make her whole day and he just wants her to smile.

Japan isn't the only time Luke is reminded of the strong willed girl. They had met a fan in Munich who looked uncannily like Sarah and he hadn't been the only one who noticed. If Luke's being honest, he hadn't been paying much attention to the girl at first. She had won some radio station competition and the whole band had greeted her at once before she turned to talk to Michael first. He had taken more of a notice to her after catching Michael's not so subtle glance at the boys and the first thing he had connected was the hair. The fan had her hair honey blonde hair pulled back into a French braid, so what? It wasn't uncommon to see the almost brown hair color and the style was popular. It's not like he hadn't seen it on anyone other than Sarah, he had. It was just such a common sight around his household that he automatically associated it with her.

When the fan had made it to him and pulled away from the hug, Luke felt bad for not paying attention to anything she said. He wanted to, but he was captivated by how she could be a perfect doppelganger. Dark olive green eyes, freckles spotted across flushed cheeks, and a small button nose. All things that looked eerily similar and one look at the boys showed that they had seen it too.

“Holy shit,” Michael said as soon as she had left “That kid looked exactly like Sarah,”

“It's weird,” Calum added. “I mean, all of the features just matched,”

Ashton had chuckled at their surprise, “They do say everyone has lookalikes,”

“Still so weird, especially after not seeing Sarah in months.” Luke said with a shrug. He tried not to think about it too hard.

Three different shows went by without Luke being reminded of her. He thinks it's because he made more of an effort to facetime her at the end of his nights and fulfill his longing to talk to her. When they stop in Paris, he's proven wrong. Luke wishes he could be cheesy and say it's because he realized he was in love with her while in the city of love. Except he realized his love was more than platonic weeks ago.

Ashton had suggested that they go somewhere local for breakfast. So, the duo set out on an adventure for the best place that served breakfast. They ended up in a bakery, ordering an abundance of baked goods and iced coffee. The savory scent of bread mingling with the sweet scent of pastries and cookies reminded him of none other than the girl that he may or may not be in love with. More often than not, she'd spend her extra time using new recipes to bake cookies, cake, and bread. Most of the time she subjected the boys to taste testing, but none of them seemed to mind. There would be days that Calum would be sad to come over to Luke's and find no treats. It was even sadder on recording days when she couldn't make it to the studio to visit and drop off her baked goods. The best days were always when she stopped by.

“Booooys,” Sarah sing songs, “I made some cookies!”

She sits the plate covered with aluminum foil on the desk and sits next to Michael on the couch. Ashton's listening to the producer play back their latest song while both Luke and Calum are diving for the plate to see who gets a cookie first. The sight just reminds her of how childish they can both be and it makes her laugh.

"What kind are they today?” Michael asks.

Luke sits back and looks at the cookie in his hand while waiting for her to respond with her normal rambles about the recipe. Usually she'll tell them all about how the website lied about the amount of butter or come up with an excuse to why ‘the first batch is bad’. He has to admit that he loves hearing her get so passionate over her baking skills.

“I made two. Can you believe it? TWO!” Sarah excitedly tells him. “I made salted caramel and raspberry with white chocolate chips. AND the caramel is homemade!”

"Wait, you know how to make caramel? This is so good” Calum says while waving around the half eaten cookie.

"It's so easy, it's just cream, sugar, and butter. But it burns if you don't take it off the heat fast enough. I may have ruined a pan,” She explains the last part timidly.

Some time during her explaining how to make caramel, Ashton had also grabbed one of the cookies. He just shakes his head at the girl with a chuckle, “Sarah, you'd be a good baker if you didn't burn everything,”

"Says the man who is on his second cookie,” Sarah says with a glare.

"This is the third time you've burnt something,”

“I'm betting that other bakers have burnt things before!” She argues.

The other three stay quiet as the two go at it, both of them living for the argument. For a minute, Luke thinks that Ashton is enjoying it too much. That is until Sarah's expression softens from the furrowed brow to a relaxed and playful one instead. Sometimes he thinks they're both too argumentative and honest for their own good, but it always ends in good fun. He could never understand why they actually enjoyed arguing and often times egged each other on, but as long as no one ends up in tears, everyone let's them hash it out.

“The cookies are really good, Sarah.” Luke tells her honestly. His insides feel melty and gooey as her eyes light up at the compliment.

"Thank you, Luke!” She thanks him in an overly sweet tone, “You know how to be a GOOD best friend. That's why I love you,”

It's possible that Luke had fallen hopelessly in love, not that he'd admit it. He had spent the entire world tour consumed with thoughts about Sarah, always seeking out bits and pieces of her in every place they visited. He even associated her with ramen out of all things. Ramen. He knew he'd have to deal with the conflicting emotions eventually, but he still opted to push them away to have a clear head for the rest of tour. A mostly clear head. All he knew was that it was a future Luke problem.

* * *

“Are you really bringing up the brownies I made in 2017?”

“They were MEMORABLE! Gosh, I remember how bitter they were. It feels like it happened yesterday,”

“Cocoa powder is bitter, you little shit!”

The argument can be heard throughout the hallway leading up to the dressing rooms in the Forum. Luke hadn't been expecting to hear the bright voice until later tonight, so naturally when he hears her, it makes his heart soar. Her words towards Ashton sounds harsh, but he can hear the playful hints in her tone. He isn't even to the door and can already visualize her darkened blonde hair falling past her shoulders, her usual makeup, and a smile tugging at her pink lips. He feels like he might explode with excitement.

Luke is right. He leans against the doorframe and watches two of his favorite people argue. She has half of her hair pulled back in a ponytail, purple glitter tapped onto her cheekbones, and the light catches on her shiny lip gloss. Neither of them acknowledge his presence, but Michael gives him a knowing grin from one of the chairs. He doesn't mind, he's just happy to see her again and admittedly he missed their playful fights. It gives him time to think about how he'd admit his love.

Girls are usually the ones to secretly fall in love with their best friends, at least that's how it's always portrayed in shows. Is it weird for guys to do that? Luke isn't sure how he's supposed to tell her, should there be some grand gesture? Just be straight up with no frilly things? He should've bought her flowers on the way here from their last promo video. He just wants her to feel appreciated whether or not she holds the same feelings towards him.

Luke is brought out of his daze by a smaller body colliding with his and warm arms wrapping around his midsection. He envelopes the smaller girl in his arms and gives her the tight squeeze that he's been waiting months for. She pulls back and he smooths down her frizzy hair with a small smile.

“I missed you so much, Luke.” Sarah smiles brightly up at him. The sight is enough to turn his heart to mush.

He just returns the warm smile, “I missed you more,”

“Now that you're here,’ Sarah turns around dramatically and points a manicured finger at Ashton before continuing, “You can protect me from bullies!”

“What's he bullying you bout’ this time?”

“My brownies! He can never be nice to me. I slaved all night for y'all and he brings up the disaster of 2017. I'm so much better now.” Sarah huffs.

She snatches the Tupperware bowl off of Ashtons lap and twirls around to push it into Luke's hands instead. He takes one out and savors the first bite, Sarah watching his every move for a reaction. She isn't wrong, it's much better than the first time when she forgot to add enough sugar. When he makes a noise of appreciation for the sweet treat, her face lights up and she sticks her tongue out at Ashton with a laugh. Luke swears that he could watch her soft features all evening, but he could settle for a bit of time before the concert. The last concert of the tour. Then he could spend the rest of his days talking to and watching her when she visits.

Sarah points her nose up in a mocking way, “See, Luke agrees that they are good brownies. I'm right. Now if you excuse us, I've got to paint Luke's nails!” .

“Luke's opinion doesn't mean you're right,” Ashton tuts.

"It does too! Accept defeat, Ash.” She calls out while dragging Luke out of the room with her.

Luke almost forgot that he had texted asking her to repaint his nails. Between potentially obsessive thoughts, promo, concerts, and trying to be a real tourist; Luke hadn't found the time to find someone to keep up with his nails. He definitely wants them done for the show, so he doesn't complain about their abrupt departure from the boys. Sarah leads him a few rooms down to one of the unoccupied dressing rooms and points at the lineup of polish bottles on the makeup desk.

"I didn't know what color you wanted this time, so I bought nearly half of my collection with me,” She says.

"You didn't have to bring all this, Sarah. You could've just picked one for me,”

“I wanted to have a choice! I think you should pick something new though. No black or red.”

“You're really going to do that to me?” Luke asks in mock distress.

It makes Sarah let out a giggle and roll her eyes, “I'm so horrible, I know.”

It only takes Luke a moment to narrow down which colors he liked best. He really wanted the sparkly red, but he couldn't ignore her opinion when he valued it so much. She wants something different, so he hands her the pastel pink polish and gives her a sheepish glance. She doesn't react badly though, she just gives him a wide smile with her pretty lips and motions for him to sit in the chair.

Sarah gets to work with painting his nails, making precise strokes to avoid a mess of polish. He admires the patience and steadiness required to do such a simple task, because the last time he tried it looked like a toddlers handy work. After watching three nails being covered in pink, he turns his attention back to taking in her features. Her brows dip down into a tiny furrow as she concentrates and he notices the new freckles dotted around her forehead and nose. He figures that she must've been in the sun recently, he's always known that the spots darken with exposure to sunlight. He likes how it just adds more depth to her complexion.

Luke also enjoys the glitter. She tends to save the bold look for festivals and he wants to tease her about how their show must be important. He just finds himself fascinated by how it looks on her and how it instantly brightens all of her features. Of course he wouldn't tease her about it when he thinks she looks so effortlessly pretty. Although the thought of him being the reason for her flushed cheeks is tempting enough.

When Sarah sets the closed bottle back onto the desk, Luke notices her makeup sitting neatly in the corner, probably so she can freshen up throughout the night. He wonders if the glitter would have the same effect on him. Plus, he just wants her close to him.

“What's going on in that brain of yours?” Sarah waves a hand in front of his face.

“I was just thinking,”

She purses her lips at him, “No shit, sherlock. Elaborate,”

"You know how you do your makeup? I was thinking about if I'd look good in it and if the fans would like it” Luke tells her honestly.

“The fans would love it, lu. And we'd be matching!” She gushes. He can tell she's already visualizing the look on him.

"Can you do mine too then?”

"I don't think you could afford my services,” She answers, while already reaching for her makeup.

There's more steps to the makeup look than Luke had originally anticipated. She explains each and every step to him and somehow listening to her explain bb cream ends up being the softest thing in the world. She promised that it'd only even out the redness and he does like how natural he looks. After contouring and adding blush, she finally moves onto his eyeshadow and glitter. He catches a glance at himself in the mirror as she pulls back his hair into a half ponytail and he likes how pretty he looks. The glitter looks nice on him and he matches Sarah perfectly.

Sarah pulls out the gloss wand with a ‘pop' sound and smiles at the man, “One last thing.”

"Thank you. I almost look as pretty as you,” He tells her. He likes how her face flushes a darker pink at his compliment.

"Oh, stop that. You could rock it better than me any day,”

Luke studies Sarah's expression for a moment while she puts her makeup away and he's never wanted to kiss someone more. He's spent months away and he's been consumed by his newfound romantic love for her. Now that she's in front of him again, he wants to kiss her and take her out for authentic beef ramen like he had planned. He wants to watch her bake and compliment all of her new recipes. He wants to hold her tight and never leave her again. He's just afraid that she'll never see him as anything other than a friend. He'd accept any love over none at all, but he'll never know the difference until he tries.

"Sarah, can I be honest with you?” Luke questions.

She looks up at him with wide eyes, “Always. What's up?”

"I think I love you,” Luke tells her carefully. “Tour gave me a lot of time to think about how I feel about you.”

"Romantically?” Sarah looks at him in awe and points at herself, “Me?”

"Yes, you.”

“I'm really not sure what to say in this situation,”

"You don't have to say anything,” Luke rubs his sweaty palms against his pants, “We can just pretend this never happened.”

"No, I mean…I think I like you too. It's just that you're my best friend and you were gone. So I don't know how I really feel? It's easy to think one thing without the person around. Now you're here and what if I just missed you?”

"We can always wait to talk about this,” He assures her, “I was just going to ask you to go on a date with me after the show,”

She gives him a lopsided smile, “What kind of date?”

“I figured I'd ask you to a Japanese restaurant, but no weird seafood since you hate that. I thought you'd like some traditional ramen. We had it in Japan and it reminded me of you.”

"The real stuff? Michael talks about how good it is all the time!”

Luke smiles at her reaction, “Would you like to go with me?”

"You know what? Yes! It'll be fun.”

The boys are finishing up last second preparations backstage when Sarah joins them. Michael and Calum are talking with each other and she doesn't see Ashton with them yet, so she takes it as a chance to talk to Luke. He's fidgeting with his in-ear monitors when he notices her walking up to him, a sneaky expression across her features.

"Being a troublemaker?” Luke raises an eyebrow at her.

"You know it! I just took a break to wish you luck,”

"I always need that,” He chuckles.

The stage managers are rushing around and one speeds by calling out that they'll be on in one minute. Luke gives her a frown, sad to leave in the middle of a conversation. Sarah on the other hand just smiles instead and motions for him to lean down. When the tall boy does, she stands on her toes and places a soft kiss against his lips. His blue eyes widened at the unexpected kiss, but softened after the initial shock. She pulls her lip gloss out and touches up his gloss that she had messed up, not wanting to ruin his look. Luke didn't expect Sarah to make the first move, yet he's the one blushing.

“I-” He starts.

Sarah doesn't let him get a word in edgewise and pushes him lightly towards their other three friends, “I think you're going on now,”

"You look pretty. I'll see you after!” She adds again with a smile at the shocked man.

Luke is definitely in love with her, there's not a single doubt in his mind. All he can think about through the concert is the fact that he's never been so excited for noodles in his entire life. Noodles and his favorite girl.

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shadowsof-thenight · 4 years

Text

Flashlight: chapter eighteen

Story summary: This is an AU Two years ago, the love of your life walked out the door, breaking your heart into a million pieces. He had been unable to deal with his ptsd and you hadn’t been able to help him.Now that your best friend is marrying his friend, he’s coming back to town and you try to brace yourself for the reunion. Will you finally get closure?

Ship: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warnings: ptsd, angst, heartbreak, depression, infertility issues

Words: 3400

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As always a massive thank you to @beanstalk007 for proofreading!

Feedback is greatly appreciated! And if you want to get tagged, let me know.

Important notice: Unfortunately @beanstalk007 is unable to be my beta from this chapter forward, so I am looking for someone to help me out with the last few chapters of this story and perhaps other stories!

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Masterlist Story Masterlist

***

When you came up with your current plan, you hadn’t realised just how difficult it would be to execute. The original choice had been easy, reasonable. The conversation that needed to be held was another story entirely. Which was why you were now standing outside of this apartment, with a whirlwind of emotions flooding your senses. Despite that, you knew you had to follow through with this plan of yours. And it was up to you to take that first step. With the conversations you’d had during the girls weekend still clear in your mind, it was obvious to you what step it had to be. That was why you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, before finally knocking on the dark red door that blocked the apartment behind it from you.

When Pietro opened that door mere seconds later, you smiled at him, trying to appear brighter than you felt. He stepped aside with eyes full of compassion, or was it perhaps pity? You didn’t know, but either made sense. You just hoped for compassion. Compassion was easier to accept, than pity. Pity was for when you felt powerless and weak. This choice didn’t feel weak. Tough, definitely, but one fuelled by a strength you were only now rediscovering. He silently pulled you into a hug, holding you close for only a short moment before he walked towards the couch situated in the living room. There, he turned up the volume of the television and you chuckled. You knew, as he probably did, that the contents of the conversation that you were about to have would not remain a mystery to him for long. Still, you appreciated his attempt at giving you some privacy while you hashed out details with the man that was currently in the bedroom furthest from the living room.

Again you knocked, a blue door this time, and as Bucky opened up you immediately asked him if perhaps he was willing to talk. Bucky nodded and quickly stepped back into the room, scooping up some clothes that he had discarded on the floor. His bed was neatly made and he signalled with a wave of his arm that you could sit on it. After he dropped the pile of clothes in the hamper near the door, he sat on a dingy chair across from you - nervously wringing his hands.

With his stare directed to the floor between you two, you took a moment to take in his demeanour. His shoulders were hunched and his foot was rapidly tapping against the leg of the chair. He was nervous, worried even and you sighed at your instinct to put him at ease. You were dreading this conversation as much as he was, and in this moment you should perhaps focus on yourself instead of him and what his needs might be. Your heart was racing and your eyes pricked with unshed tears. It wasn’t the talk itself, the intent behind it was actually good. A solid idea for the near future. However, being near him was hard. It had only been one week since you last saw him and feelings were still very raw. There had not been remotely enough time to let your sadness settle.

“So-“ you began, trailing off immediately. Silently cursing at yourself as you struggled to find the right words to convey what you wanted to say. This silence was only making it far more awkward than necessary.

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled, clearly not knowing what to say either. Which wasn’t that surprising, he had not been expecting you and didn’t know what you wanted to say.

“I know we’re supposed to create some distance,” you finally managed to say, “And I don’t want to ignore that.”

“But?” He interjected impatiently and you realised you were being vague and long winded. You needed to make this short and clear.

“We’re part of the same group of friends and neither one of us should have to walk away from that.”

The chair Bucky was sitting on creaked as he shifted. You looked at him and saw he was still wringing his hands repeatedly - the flesh one moving over the prosthetic one. Repressing the urge to grasp onto them, you cleared your throat and focussed on a spot on the wall on your left. His level of nervousness made you wonder if this was about the conversation or simply because of your presence. You truly didn’t know, which showed you just how out of touch you had become to what he needed. You couldn’t even be sure that it was nerves or another kind of unease. You had been making assumptions and again realised that this was bad for the both of you. You either needed to let him tell you how he felt, if he needed your help, or let him figure it out on his own. Good intentions only got you so far, strong communication would get you further.

“I still want us to be friends, at least,” you softly explained, suddenly afraid that he would reject your idea.

Bucky stood up suddenly, releasing a breath he had apparently been holding. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up into a tight hug.

“Thank god,” he mumbled, his lips close to your left ear and he held you close. His warm breath cascaded over your neck and caused goosebumps to erupt all over your body. “I couldn’t imagine life without you,” he whispered as he stepped back and you laughed, more out of relief than anything else.

“Think we can do it?” He then asked in all seriousness, looking into your eyes - something he had been avoiding up until that moment. Tears were brimming his eyes and you knew he saw the same with you.

Lately, Bucky had been so quiet about what he wanted or needed, that this confession shocked you a little. It was a clear declaration that soothed your nerves immensely, confirming that your connection since his return had not all been in your head. It wasn’t all based on your assumptions at least. Which was a good thing.

These past few months it had been so easy to fall back into a familiar routine together. One where words weren’t necessary, where you simply understood what the other wanted. Or thought you did anyway, because neither one of you was the same person as you had been all those years ago and by reverting to your old habits so quickly, you hadn’t taken the time to get to know the new version of the other. Sticking your head in the sand, to avoid those two long years where you had been separated. It was wise to get to know each other again and the person you had both become in the absence of your relationship.

“I just know I’m willing to try,” you finally said, taking a few steps back from him, despite the desire to remain in his arms forever.

Your heart was already aching from the nearness in such a short amount of time, it was really beating on you. As did the idea of the distance that would naturally grow between you from now on. Instantly you wondered if you were kidding yourself here. Could you simply be his friend and nothing more? You really didn’t know. What you did know was that you wanted him in your life in whatever capacity possible and you didn’t want to break up your group of friends. Still, he somehow already felt miles and miles away from you.

“Me too,” he agreed, a sad smile on his features and you almost stepped forward again to hug him close. Luckily you managed to stop yourself.

Bucky took a step back and moved to stand behind the chair he had been sitting on earlier. Holding onto the backrest, he seemed to be dealing with an internal struggle as he looked at the floor and shifted in place. He was clearly uneasy, but he wasn’t speaking and you didn’t ask. You did wonder if his instincts had been the same as yours, the wish for one more hug. For now, you knew it was easier -better- not to go there.

To ease the situation the best you could, you stepped towards the door with a last lingering smile and a wave goodbye, leaving his room and closing the door behind you. With your hand still on the doorknob, you took a moment to breathe in deeply and force the tears to remain at bay for a moment longer. When you were confident that you wouldn’t start balling at the sight of your friend in the living room, you walked back to the living room.

By the sudden jump it was clear that Pietro had been anxiously awaiting your return from Bucky’s room. Putting on a brave face, you smiled and bent down to kiss the top of his head, before walking to the front door and letting yourself out. You couldn’t stay there a moment longer. Once in the hallway, you sped up to your retreat. Forcing yourself not to flat out run, but walking really fast instead as you exited the building. You had a sudden, huge desire for fresh air.

When you finally made it to your parked car, you got in and allowed your tears to fall freely. You didn’t start driving for a while, waiting instead for the worst of your crying to subside so you could actually see the road again.

***

Placing the last plate in the cabinet above your kitchen counter, you sighed deeply. You were tired. It was finally Friday and the workweek had been horrendous. This was always the busiest time of the year, and usually you thrived with the pressure weighing on you, however with everything that had been going on, you weren’t able to manage quite as well. You couldn’t adjust to the added stress as well as you wanted to. You were always tired and your sadness was constantly crashing onto you in waves. It was overwhelming. You knew you needed to move, do something, but had little energy left after work to actually figure out what. And though you knew you needed to make a plan to kickstart your life again, all you really wanted by the time that you got home was to lay on the couch and watch some mind numbing tv. Or a sad movie and a good cry, that also seemed like a reasonable plan to you. Despite knowing that those things only helped temporarily.Then again, that had been your way of life for a while now, short term solutions.

It was only the third week since the therapy session that had changed your outlook on your current way of life and you were still trying to adjust to the realisations you had made that day. To make matters worse, you were having quite a bit of trouble navigating your own set rules. You wanted to be Bucky’s friend, truly. You wanted him in your life and yet, you were working surprisingly hard at avoiding him. It was still too hard, too fresh and entirely too painful. Therefore you had given yourself one more week to avoid him and everyone else, before you needed to put on your big-girl-pants.

Your behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed to say the least. Wanda was worried, Nat had gotten stern with you and Maria was somewhere in-between the two. Even Bucky had sent you a message earlier that week, after cancelling last minute on an invitation of Maria for dinner. He had wondered if you perhaps wanted to take back what you had said. You had replied that this was not the case, that you were simply busy and would see them all soon. He hadn’t bothered you since, probably understanding that you needed some space. Though his concern had felt good, and that was confusing enough. You needed more time.

A knock on the door pulled you from your train of thoughts, dropping the cloth that you had used to wipe down the counter, you sighed and walked towards the front door. Whoever was on the other side was persistent, repeatedly knocking and increasing the loudness. You weren’t expecting anyone and with a heightened sense of annoyance, you finally opened the door. The annoyance - which most certainly made your face resemble grumpy cat - was short-lived once you saw who greeted you. In the hallway stood two of your favourite people, Wanda and Natasha. They were both clearly intoxicated, giggling and whispering loudly as only intoxicated people can, that they had wanted to surprise you.

Stepping aside to let them in, Wanda happily showed you the contents of her bag. Two bottles of wine. Raising an eyebrow you stared at her as she placed them on the coffee table. She then quickly strode into your kitchen, you assumed to grab glasses for the three of you. Turning back to Natasha you realised she was struggling to get inside. She was trying to carry a large contraption through the door. You laughed and helped her navigate through your doorway, hallway and into the living room. There she began her set-up in front of your tv, while Wanda made quick work of pouring drinks.

“Please tell me you didn’t drive here,” you said as you dropped down on the couch.

“Clint dropped us off,” Wanda explained as she sat down next to you.

You smiled with a nod, relieved, and turned your attention back to Natasha. Finally you noticed just what her contraption was. A writing board. Your office used them during training sessions, so someone could write down whatever people said during brainstorming. The large sheets of paper that were attached to the high stand were checkered and white. You realised its use in the office but wondered what they wanted with it in your home.

When Natasha was finally satisfied with its position in the room, she stood straight, sipped from her glass and presented it as if she had just showed you a wonderful powerpoint presentation. She waved her arms and exclaimed a ‘tadaa’. Perhaps, in her enthusiasm, she had forgotten that she was yet to inform you of the intentions behind their impromptu visit.

“WE,” she called loudly, pointing to Wanda and herself, “are here to help you devise a plan.”

“That’s wonderful,” you chuckled, “And for what exactly?”

“To get you back on track,” Wanda offered with a broad smile, while Natasha retrieved a large black marker from her pocket. Using a large but clear font, she wrote on the top of the first sheet: Y/N’s one year plan.

“One year huh?” You were terrified of the mere idea of thinking that far ahead. Still you recognised the effort they had put into this for you and you did not want to dismiss it.

“We’ll start small and grow from there,” Natasha elaborated with a smile and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Small? I have trouble thinking a week ahead right now, let alone a year,” you confessed and Wanda squeezed your hand.

“That’s because you’re wandering aimlessly, we’re going to change that tonight! Add some direction,” Natasha said, “Tell me something you have always wanted to do.”

Natasha stood beside the board, ready to write your ideas down, marker at the ready. She was probably expecting something to fall from your lips instantly, but you couldn’t think of anything at all. What did you want? Did you even know anymore? Finally, after a few moments of silence, Natasha capped the marker again and sat down on the coffee table, facing you and taking your hand in hers. Wanda topped off your glasses and for a while after that the three of you just talked. No expectations, no planning, just you airing your heart and them offering nothing but the immense kindness that they held in their hearts.

When the conversation finally lead to your job, you complained about the stress of it and the never relenting demands it placed on you. Wanda was quick to question if perhaps it was time for something new. A little confused you stopped talking. You had been in the same job for years now and at first you had looked for other options, but you had become complacent.

“You haven’t been happy in that job for a while now,” Wanda said, “Perhaps you should try and figure out what would be a fun new experience.”

“One that pays at least as well as this one, otherwise it’s bye bye to this apartment,” you joked. You knew she was right, but it was a scary thought. Change wasn’t something you wanted to seek out.

“Would you stop worrying for one moment and just look into it? You don’t need to take any further action if you don’t want to, but don’t dismiss it out of fear,” Natasha scolded and you smiled, she was right two of course, you did let fear get the best of you. Often.

When you had been a child, no task had seemed too big or insurmountable. Everything new was simply exciting, every challenge an adventure. As you got older that changed and the past few years it had been all but gone from your personality. You wondered if you could ever get it back, or at least some portion of it. With your ability to oversee consequences far better then when you had been a child, you would most likely never be quite as free again, but you didn’t need to be. You just wanted to live.

Natasha stood up from the table and took her marker out again, writing down: exploring the job market. She also added travel in parentheses behind it. You laughed, she really did know you well. As a teenager you had always thought that was the business you’d end up in, in some shape or form. But after college, jobs have been scarce and you have been all too happy to find the job that you had. And it had been a good job, it just wasn’t your dream job and if you had the opportunity to find just that, you would be insane to walk away from it. You would just have to start looking again.

With your first point out of the way, the three of you got in a groove. Spouting off ideas left and right, and Natasha writing them all down. No matter how crazy they were. From going to a ballet recital, to theatre, bungee jumping, parachuting - those were a little out there- you were having fun. There were some more serious ideas as well; working as a tour guide in the city, finding a new gym and book a holiday. Finally, when there was a list of ten-something points, Natasha asked you about old and current hobbies. You snorted, current hobbies? Did lounging on the couch and watching tv count? They didn’t seem legitimate options, no matter how comfortable they were.

“What about your photography?” Natasha wondered and Wanda immediately got giddy, she had always loved your photos.

You shrugged, unsure. Photography had been something you had loved doing in both high school and college. But with work and life demanding more from your time, you had finally left it behind years ago. You wondered if it was something you could just go back to. It had always been fun to do, relaxing, since there were no expectations, no pressure. You’d just walk around and shoot whatever you came across. Some days that meant hundreds of pictures and other days you had none. Both had been fine with you.

“Why don’t we go for a walk tomorrow,” Wanda offered, “It’s fun and you can maybe take some pictures, or not, whatever you want.”

You smiled and took her up on her offer for a walk. And with that the night had come to an end, all three of you yawning but content with the results. Natasha called Clint and he quickly came to pick them up. You waved them off, watching Clint carry everything down as Nat and Wanda linked arms and skipped in front of him. He chuckled and looked back at you, you shared a laugh, before you closed the door. With a smile you went off to bed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

***

Chapter nineteen

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x Reader #James Buchanan Barnes #MCU fanfiction #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction

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