#. anyway. i got possessed and churned out these gifs past my bed time............

[eohachu]

— he'll have [him] begging for it in an hour.

inspired by @sandushengshou

[troubatrain]

wildfire - b. boeser

a/n: this a repost from my old blog - so for a second time i hope you enjoy!

Summers in Minnesota were your favorite, there was no doubt about it. You could travel around the world three times over and you were positive the lake in your hometown was more important to you than any other wonder of the world. Summer was about lazy days on the water, and this summer, actively avoiding the post graduation real life job search you were going to be on come September. It was late night house parties with the people you’d missed throughout the year, and seeing the one person who made your heart flutter in your chest like no other.

You grip your drink tighter, watching Brock while he works the room. You weren’t surprised when your phone lit up with a text from him about throwing the first party of the summer, it came at the same time every year. He didn’t look much different than he had when you saw him last, his hair a bit longer, his shoulders just a bit broader, but he was still the same. He was walking around his house, greeting guests with his million dollar smile.

“You’re going to do this to yourself again?” Your thoughts are broken by your best friend, Parker, the brunette shaking her head at you, “It’s the same story every year Y/N, you have this romantic summer and come September you both chicken out on letting it last.”

You sigh, knowing your friend was right. It wasn’t that it was Brock’s fault and you could fall under this narrative that he was a player, because it just wasn’t true. Brock was really good to you, and sometimes you thought maybe it could work. But distance was a bitch, and you couldn’t just give your heart to him to have when he’s a million miles away with a schedule that’s as crazy as his.

“I’m not doing it this year,” You say, and even you knew you were lying through your teeth, “It’s not happening.”

You slip out of the room, heading up the stairs to find somewhere quiet to collect your thoughts. You knew you were going to cave the second Brock spoke to you, you always did. He was intoxicating, and he was always there, the same song and dance every summer since you’d been nineteen. It's gotten to the point where you once dumped the guy you’d been seeing because you knew Brock was going to be back home waiting for you. You walk past the bathroom, hearing the sounds of someone hooking up on the other side, and you keep walking into a room you knew all too well.

You slip into Brock’s room, Coolie immediately hopping off the bed and greeting you, his new brother following him to smell you. You sit on the floor, petting both of the dogs until you can hear the door click open.

“I knew I’d find you in here,” Brock chuckles, it wasn’t the first time you’d slipped out of a party to see his dog who’d been finding refuge in his owner's bedroom. Milo trotted over to Brock, his tail wagging in the air with excitement while Coolie remained at your feet, “I think he missed you.”

“I don’t blame him, who’s going to give him treats without telling his dad,” You muse, remembering how many times Brock caught you spoiling his dog, it wasn’t your fault he was cute and you were a sucker. Brock walks over to you, his hand out for you to grab. Your fingers locked with his while he pulled you off the ground, pulling you close enough to feel his breath on you.

“You want to stay tonight?” Brock asks, a smirk gracing his face. It was the way he asked, every summer, and if your answer was yes you knew what else you were agreeing to. Another few months of bliss, followed by a month of heartbreak and tears before you picked yourself up again. You’d mend your own back together only for it to be broken again. Brock nudges you with his nose, his lips ghosting yours, waiting for his answer before he could finally kiss you.

“I’ll stay.”

--

With your declaration of staying that night, you’d fallen into the same pattern you always have. You stayed at Brock’s more than your own house, and you’d been with him almost everyday since that night, much to Parker’s dismay. You were laying out on Brock’s boat, the dogs at your feet while you watched Brock fish on the other side. The view was something else, aside from the beauty of the lake that you were sitting on, you were getting a full view of the muscles on Brock’s back, his summer tan on full display.

“Stop staring at me,” Brock calls out, turning around and smirking at you, “I can feel your eyes boring into me.”

“It’s a good view,” You joke.

“Is that all I’m good for?” Brock jokes back, “I’m just pretty.”

“The prettiest,” You snap back, tucking your nose back into the book you were reading.

“That’s actually you,” Brock says, walking over to you and placing both of his hands on either side of you, leaning over and planting a sweet kiss on your lips, “You’re beautiful.”

Brock’s compliments were cut short by Milo hopping onto your lap and lightly nibbling his owner’s nose for bothering you. While Coolie had always followed you around Brock’s house, Milo had taken a few more days to warm up to you. But, he was on your side now and that meant Brock was public enemy number one.

“I think they’d choose you if they had the chance,” Brock teases, but a part believed it might actually have been true.

You watched Brock walk back over to his fishing pole, and you could have sworn you heard the sound a camera click but you decided to ignore it. That was until there was notification on your phone that Brock had tagged you in his Instagram story. You open it, it was a photo of you with the dogs at your feet, and you turn to Brock who’d been minding his own business. You weren’t mad, it was just that although every one of your friends, and you were pretty sure your families, knew about you and Brock’s weird summer arrangement because it had gotten past the point of trying to hide it, there was never any evidence of it. Aside from the occasional chirp on one of your Instagram posts, it was like you and Brock didn’t even know each other.

“Brock…” You say, dragging out his name and walking over to him, your arms snaking around his waist. You press a light kiss to his back, “Did you really have to do that?”

“Can’t show off my girl and my dogs?” Brock asks, turning back to you and kissing your lips.

“Your girl?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, my girl.”

--

The problem with your arrangement with Brock was that he was actually a decent temporary boyfriend. He kept your favorite flavor of ice cream in his house, he gave you endless hoodies when the temperatures would start to drop, and he held your hand when you were out in public. He never hid whatever was going on between the two of you like it was some shameful secret, and you’re pretty sure that’s why you keep coming back. It just feels so real when you’re together you’d never been able to pull yourself away from him. But then you’d remind yourself that this is temporary, and nothing this perfect could last anyways.

“-I heard that he’s got like three girls in Vancouver,” You hear someone at the table next to your say, and you can feel Parker’s foot kick you under the table to get your attention. They were talking about Brock, and you tried to tune them out but you couldn’t. It ate you up at night, when you’d start to think about what Brock’s life in Vancouver was like. He was young, successful, and the team was playing well. You knew he had girls lined up waiting for their chance with him. You didn’t expect him not to give anyone the time of day, he didn’t belong to you. But the words from the girls next to you had your stomach churning, and you wanted nothing more than to walk over to Brock on the other side of the bar to stake your claim. You weren’t possessive or jealous, well you were, but you didn’t need him to know that. So you stayed in your seat, sipping your drink and eavesdropping about whatever rumor was circling about Brock.

“You’re not going to do anything about that?” Parker asks, her eyebrows raising at you.

“He doesn’t belong to me,” You say, your temper rising by the second, “I’m just going to go.”

You stomp out of the bar with your feet moving as fast as they could. You walked in what you assumed was the direction of your house, but after a few blocks, you���d realized you’d been so upset you didn’t know where you were going. You finally stop hearing a huff behind you.

“I’ve been walking behind you this entire time, how did you not notice me?” Brock breathes out, shaking his head at you, “I could’ve been a murderer.”

You close your eyes, turning away from Brock and continuing on your directionless walk, “Not the time Brock.”

You can feel his large hand wrap around your elbow gently, pulling you closer to him, “What’s up?”

“It’s not important,” You whisper, putting your hand on Brock’s chest to push him away, but your hand just tangles itself into the chain on his neck when his arms tighten around you to keep you in his arms, “Brock…”

“Let’s go home,” Brock says, realizing he isn’t going to get you to budge on opening up to him in the middle of the sidewalk, “Please.”

You nod, and you follow him to his truck that had been parked by the bar. You hop in and ride back to his house in silence. You knew you owed him an explanation as to why you rushed out of the bar with the intent of walking home and crying alone, but you couldn’t tell him without admitting that you were jealous.

The sounds of the dogs barking at the truck pulling into the driveway was the only thing that broke you out of your thoughts. You smile, slipping inside to see the two best boys in your life at the current moment. You watch as they both follow you into Brock’s room, and you grab one of his t-shirts, the Canucks logo on your chest and his number on your shoulder.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong now?” Brock asks, sitting at the edge of his bed, his eyes wandering your body in his clothes. You shake your head no, walking over to him and wrapping your legs around his waist, tucking your head into his neck, “C’mon, Y/N.”

“Just something I heard from the girls that were sitting next to us,” You mutter out, feeling Brock’s hand weaving your hair in an attempt to comfort you, and it was working, “About you, and girls, and your life in Vancouver.”

You can hear Brock sigh, and you didn’t know what you were expecting to hear, “You know, one time when I played the Wild, Parker told me you were at a wedding with some guy you were seeing and that’s why you weren’t in town that day. I couldn’t shake the idea of you with someone else from my brain, and I broke three sticks that game.”

“You were jealous?” You ask, finally picking your head up and looking at him.

“So jealous,” Brock mutters, pecking at your lips, “But then you came home for the summer and so did I and it seemed to work itself out.”

“You’re a good guy Brock,” You say, kissing him slowly, “It’s actually almost a little annoying.”

“You keep coming back though,” Brock chuckles, pulling you closer and flopping back onto his bed.

“I always do.”

--

The Fourth of July was admittedly, Brock’s all time favorite holiday. Every year his annual barbeque seemed to just get bigger, and crazier. This year was no different, you were watching someone set up a giant inflatable water slide that led right into the lake, and in another corner of the yard was a couple of your friends setting up the drinks. The house was decorated elaborately with red white and blue decorations.

“Hey can you put these on the dogs?” Brock asks, chucking two bandanas at you.

You catch the bandanas, laughing to yourself about how they matched the red, white and blue shirt Brock was sporting, the buttons in the front completely undone, “I’m making you take a picture after this.”

“Only if you’re in it too,” Brock says, kissing the side of your head, “A family photo.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and can feel a blush creep onto your cheeks. This summer was different than the ones from the past, Brock was unapologetic about the way he felt about you. He was so much more vocal about it than he used to be.

You didn’t see much of Brock that day, mainly because you sure he invited every person he’s ever met to his party. But you spent most of the day mingling with friends, falling into a lengthy conversation with Brock’s sister who’d been trying to pry into what the nature of your relationship was for years. You always gave her the same answer, a small shrug and telling her that you were just friends even though she’d call you out on lie. By the time the sun went down, you were tipsy and you hadn’t seen Brock once all day. Your phone vibrates next to you, pulling you out of your conversation with Parker about the job she’d just interviewed for.

meet me on my balcony in 5

You smile, excusing yourself from the conversation and making your way upstairs to Brock’s bedroom. You slip in, smiling when you see Brock sitting on the edge of his bed, tossing his phone in the air

“C’mon,” Brock smiles, standing up and grabbing your hand and opening the door to the balcony, you both step out and you turn to him with a confused look on your face.

“Why’d you call me up here?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him.

“It’s the best view for this,” Brock says, pointing to the lake where fireworks had started going off. You weren’t even surprised by the final grand idea Brock had for the Fourth of July. You smile, wrapping your arms around his waist while you watched the colors burst in the sky in front of you, “Too much?” 

“No, it’s perfect.”

--

Elias Pettersson was a bit of an odd guy, but he’d been nothing but kind to you since the moment his plane landed down in Minnesota, a break from his summer in Sweden. Now he was sitting at the large island in Brock’s house, who’d stepped out to head to the store, while you continued with the dinner you were cooking for the three of you.

“So, this actually happens every summer?” Elias asks, grabbing your attention, “I thought Brock was just bullshitting us.”

“Brock talks about me?” You ask, trying to get a grip on exactly how much about your relationship Elias actually knew.

“He does, not to everyone, but when I ask him about his summer he always raves about this girl who he spends it with,” Elias starts, gesturing to you, “I assume that’s you.”

“Is that all he says?” You ask, trying to pry into what Brock was saying about you. You can admit, you wanted to hear every detail so you could overthink it forever. You could torture yourself with knowing whether or not his feelings for you were real or not.

“Is that all who says?” Brock asks, stepping back into the house, dropping the bags on the counter and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Nothing, we were just talking about how much a loser you are,” Elias says, giving you a wink, a secret acknowledgement that your desperate plea for information would be kept between the two of you.

Long after dinner, and a two movies, Elias had headed into the guest room he was staying in and you were sitting on the couch, sipping some tea before bed and reading the rest of the book you’d intended on finishing weeks ago.

“I’m surprised you’re still up,” Brock says, closing the sliding door to the backyard behind him, “You want to tell me what embarrassing things Petey told you before or am I going to have to pry it out of him tomorrow?”

“Nothing embarrassing, he was just asking about us,” You say, smiling at him, “Everyone does Brock.”

“I know,” Brock nods, grabbing the mug out of your hands and sitting next to you on the couch, pulling you into his chest, “Does it bother you? That you don’t have an answer.”

Yes it does. It drives me absolutely insane that I’ve been in love with you for years of my life but I never feel like you’re actually mine.

“No, it doesn’t”

--

The moment Elias left to head back to Europe for the rest of his summer, Brock had been giving you the silent treatment. You’d gone to the airport with them, and with Elias’s last words about how he better see you in Vancouver at least once this fall, Brock had gone mute. He didn’t look at you once on the entire ride back to his house, and now he was moving around his kitchen, moving things that didn’t need to be moved while he continued to ignore you.

“Brock, what the fuck is your problem?” You finally call out, breaking the silence. In all of the years you’d been together, if that’s what you could even call it, you never actually had gotten into more than a small argument. Even then, Brock never gave you the cold shoulder.

“I don’t have a problem,” Brock defends, when there clearly was a problem.

“Is this about what Elias said?” You ask, waiting for an answer but you see how silent Brock had gotten, you knew the answer was yes, “Is the idea of being with me that bad? You can’t even fathom the idea of seeing me when we’re not home? Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“Have you ever thought about how I feel?” Brock shouts back, “Like I have to hear everyone in my life there tell me how fucking wonderful you are and then I have to admit to them that I’m too scared to tell you how I feel? That I love you, so much, but I don’t think I’m enough for you, or that I think you deserve someone who can give you the world but I can’t promise that so I just keep trying to hold onto you the best I can.”

This time, you fell silent. The look on Brock’s face went from tense to the realization of what he actually just said to you. You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I love you too.”

“If you came to Vancouver, I don’t want you to leave,” Brock says, looking at you, his eyes flicking down to your lips while he waits for your answer.

Your futures always seemed like they’d been heading in the same direction. That Brock was your right person, wrong time relationship. But one day, you always imagined things would work out, and you’d finally have a light at the end of the tunnel. Moving to a new city could be a risk, but Brock had been the biggest constant in your life, and there wasn’t a doubt that if you left with him - he’d never let you go.

“I’ll go.”

[sserpente]

A/N: This was supposed to be funny but it kind of turned out sadder than I wanted it to be. Anyway, enjoy!

Words: 1541 Warnings: alcohol consumption, a little angsty

The knock that woke you from your rather light sleep was disturbing. Loud, vivacious and pushy, you nearly fell out of bed when you hurried to open the door. For all you knew, it could be an emergency and there was a new mission, a fellow Avenger in danger, injured or abducted or… Loki.

It was in fact the God of Mischief. The moment you spotted him standing in front of you, he had already rushed past you, inviting himself in without you saying a word.

“Uh… yeah, just come in,” you mumbled sleepily. Rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands, you turned around and watched him pacing around the room like a tiger on ecstasy.

You shook your head, crawling back into bed. “Loki, what’s happening?”

“If I knew, this evening would have run very differently.” He replied. He sounded… weird. Unlike usual, his voice wasn’t as graceful and arrogant as normal. Had he been drugged? Was he sleepwalking? But then he stumbled, losing his balance for just a second. No, it couldn’t be…

“Loki… a-are you… are you drunk?”

“Seems like it,” he gave back with a shrug, sitting down on your desk chair and playing with a small object you couldn’t quite make out, in his hands.

“W-why?” You hadn’t even known it was possible for Asgardians… or Jötuns to be exact, to get drunk. Thor did have that magic alcoholic drink he always brought to Tony’s parties but it never even got him tipsy.

“Stark keeps saying it’s what helps him forget. So I took his Whiskey.”

Forget? Forget what? “How much did you drink…?” You asked carefully, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Everything,”

“You drank the whole bottle?!” Jesus Christ.

“No. I drank all of them,”

“All of them?! You mean, you emptied his bar?! How are you still able to stand upright?”

“It takes a lot more for a God to get wasted completely, little one.” Little one?! What the hell was wrong with him? Unlike the rest of the Avengers, you got along with him quite well, for you could hold normal conversations without treating him like a nasty insect. Sometimes you even felt like he sought your presence and enjoyed your company but that of course, must have been your imagination only. Loki would never take any interest in someone like you. Perhaps you were something like a friend to him but that would be about it. So why was he coming to you this late at night in his drunken state and, to crown it all, call you little one like a cherished girlfriend?

“A-alright, you should… you should just go to bed and sleep, okay? Drink some water and then go to your room, yes?”

Loki shook his head. “I came here to talk.”

You frowned in response. “To talk? About what?”

“About what I am trying to forget.” He said quietly. His blue eyes, fixed on the carpet under his feet, looked up to meet yours. There was resignation sparkling in them, along with hurt and loneliness.

“A-and what are you trying to forget?” You asked him unobtrusively. His answer, short and to the point, shocked you.

“Everything,”

“Everything?”

“I want to forget I was taken from my home planet as a relict, I want to forget being lied to by the ones that claimed to love me. I want to forget I will always be the dispensable second-born son, living in the shadow of that stupid oaf of what I am supposed to call a caring brother. I want to forget how Thanos tortured me for months to get me to cooperate for his evil schemes and I want to forget how Odin locked me away in a cell for all eternity. I want to forget how he told me that my only birthright was to die and I want to forget that it is my fault Frigga is dead. I want to forget that there is no one in the nine realms who wants me near them for the simple sake of it and I want to forget how I am used and thrown away when not needed. I want to forget that I am alone, (Y/N).”

Tears formed in your eyes upon hearing this and you had to bite your lower lip hard to hold back a loud sob. The things he had just told you… you somehow knew this was the first time he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

“Loki…”

“Do you know what this is?” He held up the small object in his hands. It was a ring, beautifully crafted and shimmering in the moonlight that shone through your window. Runes were engraved in the foreign metal and the inside was of pure gold. Slowly, you shook your head.

“The runes spell the word love. Decades ago, my mo… Frigga gave it me. Do you want to know what she said? She said ‘This ring has been in the possession of my ancestors for millennia. Keep it, and then one day, when the right day comes, you will give it to your one true love.’” He stared at the wall as if he was recalling the memory, making you bite your lip even harder.

“I was so naïve back then. I thought I would in fact find love one day and marry one of those beautiful women that admired my brother. I thought there had to be just one that would be interested in me as well. But I was wrong and then… then I found out what I really am and everything went down the tube. I will always be alone.” You couldn’t hold back your sob this time. Tears ran down your cheeks uncontrollably as you looked at the man who had intimidated you so much during the incidents of New York. Right now, he was a picture of misery.

“Why are you telling me this, Loki?”

Once more, his stunning eyes locked with yours. His gaze was scrutinising, as if he was weighing whether he could trust you or not.

“You are the only one bearable around here. The only one, who treats me like an actual person, listens to what I have to say and considers my opinion. You know what happened in New York and still, you don’t look at me like I were the devil himself.” He spat. His expression distorted, as if he was in pain. You were touched by his words but still, a sober Loki would never tell you this.

“Should I tell you a secret? I did not forget. None of it. It is worse now than it was before. Here. Take it. I want you to have it. You are what comes the closest to someone I lo… someone I truly tolerate.” W-what?

Your lips parted in shock as he stood and walked over to you, then took your hand into his smooth palms and slipped the ring on your finger. It really was beautiful.

“L-Loki, this ring is far too valuable. You really need to rest before you do something stupid.”

“Oh, I am about to do something exceptionally stupid.”

And with that, he leaned forward and kissed you. His hand grabbed your neck to pull you closer to him as he climbed on the bed and slung his arm around your waist, his lips working against yours demandingly and yet so softly you melted under his gentle touches.

No. He was drunk. Tomorrow, he would remember none of this and if he did—and that would be even worse—he would truly regret it and look at you like you were an insect.

Struggling half-heartedly, you attempted to pull away to look him in the eye again. “Loki, you’re drunk, you’re not yourself. You don’t know what you want, you…”

The God of Mischief chuckled, running one of his soft hands up and down your naked thigh. You shivered. This felt… so incredibly good. Where… just where was that sudden desire for him coming from? You… enjoyed this. Enjoyed him being near you, touching you, kissing you and yet, you crawled away from him.

“Loki, please, I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret tomorrow. W-we… if you still want this tomorrow, we can… stay the night, you don’t have to leave. Lay down with me. Please, Loki.”

You… cared? No, you couldn’t. If you cared more than you should, he would, unbeknownst to him, rip your heart out, for soon, he would return to Asgard and then, you would most likely never see him again. There was no point in getting attached to a man that would leave you.

But as he nodded and obeyed much to your surprise, letting you tuck him under your blanket, you cuddled up to him, resting your head on his chest and allowing him to put an arm around you. Loki was sound asleep within seconds, leaving you awake and churning.

Pensively, you played with the golden ring on your finger, stroking over the runes with your thumb. Love. Did he truly care for you? You, a mortal woman who willingly spent her time with him? Somehow, you hoped so.

For you, it was too late, so you realised. You already cared.

Part II can be found on my masterlist!