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#the worst part is I don’t even feel the slightest bit energized
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hihi!! this is my entiry for the brilliant and beautiful @berrynarrybanana‘s Sex Bucket List Challenge: Sex On A Boat edition! Casey is genuinely one of my favorite people on here and I was so excited to participate! Every piece in this challenge has blown my socks off, so I’m little nervous posting with such talented writers!  Its a different exploration of one of my favorite concepts, yacht!harry and I hope you enjoy!! Humungo thank you to my wife Casey for everything and @harrywearingvans​ and @smokeinherperfume​ for helping me edit my truly horrendous spelling!!!
Challenge Masterlist · my masterlist 
the summer you spend as a chef on a yacht, slowly but surely falling for harry who’s the lead deckhand on board.
It’s the last day of the season. 
For most people, spending a summer trotting around the Mediterranean ocean is restful and relaxing. But that’s not the case for you. Instead of settling into the tanning glow of vacation, you’ve only gotten paler from when the summer started. But spending your days tucked away in the galley haven’t come without its perks. 
Harry’s mainly one of them. As the lead deckhand on board, his dicking around time is upsettingly short. But he spends it all with you. The crew has spent the majority of the summer teasing the magnetism the two of you share and mostly it’s embarrassing that you can’t hide it better. 
As you start to reach the last few stages of your recipe, a sad thought washes over you. Once lunch is finished, you’ll be done with yachting the summer. After lunch, the crew will be dispersing and wandering back over to their little corners of the world. Days without Harry seem dreary and boring. You’re not looking forward to it at all, especially when he’s spent the last few nights slipping into your bunk when his watch is finished. He’s talked about wanting to travel when everything’s done, spend some of that hard-earned money. But you’ve never pressed too far. Going back to a routine without him seems like the worst way to end one of the best summers of your life. 
You’re not expecting it to be him when he pushes open the stainless steel door to the galley. He’s still in the top half of his uniform, a black polo with a small crest of a wave embroidered on his left breast, the boat’s name Eros stitched just below it. His shorts are black swim trunks, a much shorter cut than ones he normally sported when guests were aboard. 
You smile at the leg he’s showing off, raking your eyes up his body with your tongue sharpening to give him a good bit of grief. But when you find his eyes, they’re much sterner than you expect. The vibrant green color mellowed into a hard, almost gray. 
“Harry?” you ask, setting down the tongs and turning off the stove. You turn so you can face him, a counter still between you. “Are you alright?” you ask it cautiously, unsure of how to proceed. 
He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he breathes out your name and your heart begins to hammer in your chest. 
You’ve been here before. 
Your eyes feel heavy as you try and scoop another heaping spoonful of pasta into your mouth. You chew it lazily, too tired to even lift your free arm to check the notifications on your phone beside you. You’re too sleepy to even want to chew the noodles down into smaller bites. You swallow them a little too whole, wincing as it burns down your throat. You frown at the bowl like you’ve been betrayed though you know it’s your own fault. 
You’re still so hungry but yet so tired that you debate on whether you should use the last of your strength to finish the pasta and pass out right there in the crew mess or throw it in the fridge and crawl into bed. As you contemplate, your white chef’s coat catches your eye and you glare at it. You need a good long break from her after today’s shit show but there’s still a few days left of the charter. Even the tank top you were wearing under still reeks of fish. 
Someone comes slumping down the steps and just from the heavy sound you should have guessed it was Harry. 
He looks as tired as you feel until a look of complete surprise briefly energizes his face when he sees you sitting there. 
“You’re still up?” he asks in a quiet voice, mindful of the crew bunks just down the hall. His hair is floppy against his forehead, a sight you’ve sorely missed. He’s required to keep it pulled from his face when guests are on board so it’s not a look he can usually just wear around. You savor it. Every time you caught a peek of those brown strands falling into his eyes, you felt like you’d been laying in the sun for hours. 
You glanced at the clock. 03:32 AM. He must have just gotten off anchor watch.
“Yeah, they wanted, uh,” you stop to rub at one of your twitching eyes. “Nachos and caviar.” You scoff wearily. He hums knowingly, still standing on the last step.
You glance down back at your bowl, just to be sure the small mountain hasn’t miraculously shrunk with your eyes off it. He calls your name softly when you frown at finding it all there. You turn back with a drowsy look but snap out of it when you find his face lacking the usual lightheartedness it usually held when you were in the room. 
“Yeah?” you reply, your voice slipping a bit too close to its normal volume that it has you cringing. You blink at him as you wait for a response or, at least, wait for him to drop this weird, mysterious look he’s got written all over his face. But he doesn’t. He’s still just staring at you. You can tell he’s staring at a specific place on your face, your tiredness delaying the realization that it’s your mouth. “Harry?” you try again. 
Then he’s charging over. A direct intention in every step he takes until he’s standing over you in the booth seat. You tilt your head up to watch him, giving him the perfect angle to swoop down and place his lips to yours. 
You wish you could say you have a delayed response. You wish you could say that you hadn’t thought about this moment all summer long. But you can’t because the moment he kisses you, you kiss him right back. Don’t even pretend to be confused by the sudden affection. All exhaustion evaporates from your system instantly. You feel like you could go for days, maybe even years with all those butterflies in your stomach, and especially if he keeps kissing you like that. 
His lips move slowly against yours. You’ve always wondered if kisses you’ve waited a while for are a disappointment. If maybe all the buildup, all the anticipation and wanting, make it hard to live up to. 
With Harry, that’s not a problem. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. It’s the heaviest first kiss you’ve ever shared. And your belly warms through at the thought that it’s with him. His hands cradle your face to his, his lips gently working against yours with just the slightest tease of his tongue. 
When he pulls away from you, your first instinct is to follow his mouth but you catch yourself before you can. Upon parting, a small dot of tomato sauce has transferred to his face. You scramble to wipe it away for him, shyly averting your eyes. 
“Hmm,” he starts so you’ll look at him. “Tomato-y.” He concludes with a familiar goofy smile. It’s so unexpected after what just happened that a sharp, singular cackle rockets out from the pit of your stomach and into the small air between you. You smack your hand over your mouth in pure horror. 
You’re so sore for how he looks.
He looks at you with soft eyes and an already amused smirk and like he gives fuck all about anything but you. 
“That’s it?” you joke, wiping your napkin over your face frantically when you realize the sauce had to come from somewhere. He giggles to himself, running his tongue over his teeth as he leans back to stand up straight. 
“Taken away all my other words. Been waitin’ too long fo’ that.” 
He doesn’t have to say anything else, his face already says everything. His eyes are again softly focused on your mouth, searching for any sign not to go further. Lips pursed in contemplation, while his eyebrows are gently arched like he’s debating with himself. 
You take the smallest step towards him. You’re not sure what it is that urges you forward but with his expression this unreadable, you don’t want his much space between you if something’s wrong. He lurches forward, speeding around the short distance of the counter to pull you into him. His mouth meets yours quickly in a heated kiss, his mouth just as warm and velvety as you remembered. 
But there’s an urgency the last kiss lacked. Lust and desire on top every unspoken feeling that’s been boiling away between you. You try to tell him everything you’ve been feeling this summer, everything you’ve been trying to hold back. He moves a hand to anchor your face to his, tongue sliding into your mouth and his hips leaning into yours. 
He’s giving it all back. His mouth telling you I want you I want you I want you each time his lips press against you. 
As if on some Divine synchronicity, his fingers reach for the hem of your camisole as you reach for the button of his shorts. Just as you pop it open, his hands jump to yours and help you rip open his fly. 
There are few stars doting the sky that night. They’re bright against the darkness of the night and reflected with the amber gleam of the lights from shore blinking across the water. Harry sits beside you, the two of you totally at ease in the silence. All you can hear is the lapping of waves and the occasional flap of the flag flying off the end of the boat. 
“You cold?” His voice is soft but rumbles deep from his chest. When you make eye contact, you become suddenly aware of the goosebumps littering your arms and legs. He shucks off the fleece zip-up he’s wearing to drape over your shoulders.
“Harry,” your voice is even quieter than his.
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t...date people I work with.” You hold his eyes as you say it, swallowing hard as you finish to fight any growing discomfort. He tries to hide it but you still see his face falls ever so slightly. He just nods, pursing his lips together as he drops his head to look at his lap
“Oh.” He says after he clears his throat. He’s not upset. Just embarrassed. Maybe a little disappointed too, if you’re not reading too much into it.
“But if I did,” you lean to catch his eyes once more. You don’t dare answer, feeling the boldness melt away at the even slight acknowledgment of your own feelings. Instead, you nod firmly with your tongue anxiously pausing over your teeth. 
Harry takes a moment to search your face. You try to tell him everything you can’t with your eyes. Your tongue feels too heavy to talk and you’re not even sure if you remember words good enough to let crawl through his ears. 
“If we weren’t—” he cuts himself off with a quick glance behind you, a brief reminder you two did have the luxury of privacy. “If I waited…” he tests, shrugging his shoulders.
“If you waited...for me?”
“For you.” He nods. “If I waited for the season to finish, then I asked you out, would that be against the rules?” 
“We met a week ago! You don’t even know me.” 
“Yeah. I’d like to though. Sorta the point, darlin’.”
Before you can dive your hands down any further, he slides his hand behind your face to bring your focus back to the kiss. His mouth is still melded to yours but his lips are moving more tentatively, almost as if he’s asking you permission. 
You decide to let your actions speak for themselves and hook on arm behind his neck to bring him closer. You let your clothed pelvis roll against him and he groans into your mouth. 
A loud clatter from the deck above causes you both to jump slightly apart. You both watch the door in anticipation, but after a few moments, no one shows. Turning back to him, his pupils are blown out, face flushed and loved on. His eyes hold the shininess of his smirk and as your eyes travel down him, you can’t help the immediate jump your body makes back to him when you see he’s just as turned on as you are. 
“We have to be quick.” His whispers into your mouth. “Have to be quick.” He repeats, still pecking kisses across your lips. You pull away, your hand grasping his bicep to pull him behind you. You bend yourself over the counter, wiggling your bum at him. He wastes no time rolling himself into you and pressing you against the counter. He leans over your shoulder, his mouth eager to reconnect with yours. 
“Can I be a bit of a dickhead for a minute?”
“Aren’t you always?” You scoffed, raising your eyebrow at him as you brought the beer to your lips. He shakes his head smiling, his nose wrinkling at your teasing. 
“I still think about you quite a lot.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” He coughs, setting the bottle down beside him. “‘Specially when you’re in that bikini.” 
You try to laugh it off, even though he can tell you’re blushing and you can’t stop nervously shifting in your spot. You shake your head and turn your attention toward the street that leads to the dock. You can feel him still watching you and you have no idea what to do about it. 
“Meant what I said at the beginning of the season.” 
You don’t answer, just turn back with an eyebrow raised. You begin to gnaw on the inside of your cheek when you find that his stare is as intense as you feared it to be. When he still doesn’t say anything, you motion with your head for him to continue. 
“Really am waitin’ for you. If you’ll have me.”
Your mouths finally break as he begins to roll the elastic of your shorts down your ass. He doesn’t even bother with shoving them completely down your legs, stopping once they reach the middle of your thighs. 
“I want you.” It’s the first thing you can gasp out to him. You cast him a look over your shoulder, swallowing hard at the desperation on his face as he shucks his trunks down. He glances up at you and, without hesitation, smacks his lips back to yours in a sloppy kiss. One of his hands slides to your waist, gently guiding you to lean further forward into the counter. You oblige, arching your back so he can get a good angle. 
“Been fuckin’ dreamin’ about this,” he says under a heaving breath as he brushes the tip of his cock against your folds. You’re not sure if he’s teasing or if he’s as overwhelmed as you are but there’s a moment where you’re both standing there in anticipation, neither of you really sure it’s finally happening.
You hear more heavy footsteps from the floor above and you shoot him a needy look. 
“Please, please, I need it,” you moan, your hands bracing you against the counter. 
When he finally pushes inside, you forget to keep breathing, gasping for air when he finally bottoms out. He plants kisses across your shoulder then begins pressing hot wet kisses up your neck as he moves out of you. His hands adjust on you, getting a better grip on your body with one at your elbow and the other at your hip. 
He ducks his head to kiss once against your back before he’s rolling his hips into yours with a euphoric precision. Sighing out a breath, you widen your stance to feel him even more. You can tell he’s holding back on the pace so you squeeze his hand. He seemingly gets the message and speeds up, the snapping of his hips and the sound of you together fills the small room. 
A tightness builds in your lower belly, feeling delightfully full with every thrust. You move your hips with his rhythm as best you can though you feel dizzy from so much at once. You can only wonder how many times you had this exact fantasy. 
“Fuck,” he gasps into your neck. “Oh, fuck me.” His pace is still fast, rocking into you with heavy and even thrusts. Your knees begin to buckle, your arms shaky as you try to hold yourself up through the ecstasy igniting from your core. 
“I’m yours.” You tilt back your head to look at him as you heave the words out. “I’m yours, I’m yours.” You gasp out the repetition desperately before a cry springs out of your throat as you come undone. A few quiet noises spill past your lips as his pace slows, shorter, deeper thrusts into you, he whines needily against your skin. Then, he moans much louder, the sound jumping to bounce off the walls of the confined space. He slumps against you as he finishes, his sweaty front dropping onto your back. 
“Holy shit.” He breathes, laying there for a moment. You chuckle in breathless agreement, smiling at the kiss he leaves on your ear before standing up. “Y’got any tea towels?” 
Wordlessly, you point to a basket against the opposite walls where the interior staff has left you fresh little, white towels. He makes a small ‘a-ha’ as he approaches them, grabbing one for himself before coming back over to hand another to you. 
After you re-dress, you sneak a glance at him from beneath your eyelashes to gauge his reaction. He’s smiling down at the cutting board, his eyes practically retracing where you were bent over. He looks so beyond cheeky that you just have to elbow him.
“Oi!” he wrinkles his nose at you, rubbing the spot on his bicep you’ve just struck. You roll your eyes at him and he takes a deep breath. He rests a hand on your arm, his thumb swooping over your soft skin. “So…”
“Yeah,” you awkwardly agree but a smile still spreads across your face. “Look I kn--”
“I finished my shift ten--twelve--and a half, technically, minutes ago” he says as he leans to see the clock. “So…”
“So...you don’t work here anymore?” 
“Nope.” 
You don’t know what to say. You can’t shake the sudden looming sadness about his impending departure. He’s watching you carefully and it's almost as if he can see the gears turning in your head. 
“Are you gonna stay for lunch?” you ask hopefully. 
“Was hopin’ to stick around for a lot more than just that, my love.”
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wristic · 6 years
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Yellow Light (Part 2)
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Pairing: Loki X Reader, hint of Thor X Reader Word Count: 1900 Warnings: None
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-
How was it possible to crave the cold? Left alone to feel sweaty, burn in panic at the sudden loss of it? Thor tried not to pace, his fingers instead, itching as Tony explained his system was tampered with, one minute you were there and the next all of FRIDAY went silent for five minutes. The slightest hint of a body appearing in the room before it shorted out and everything went black.
The worst part was the sight of you lingering by the door after it shut, after he left you alone. Your hand ran down the door as your head dipped sullenly. He shouldn’t have left you alone. A part of Thor wanted to stay, feeling how lonely you’d become even if you wouldn’t admit it aloud. But he never quite trusted himself around you for long, your company so easy to be in, certain temptations always edging on his mind, edging dangerously with the drinks.
Some radio residue was left in the center of the room, nothing recognized as earthly, but Thor knew it well. The kind of energy needed for folding the universe for a brief moment, something that would need to take months in preparation, longer if done alone. Thor tensed all over, his teeth aching as his jaw clutched tight. Stepping back from the computer screens he reassured Tony, “She isn’t on Earth anymore.”
He began walking away when Tony jumped up, following close behind, “What do you mean ‘she isn’t on Earth’ anymore? Where is she?” Thor only sighed but didn’t stop, taking great pains to force back his denial. “Hey!” Tony grabbed his arm and yanked Thor to face him. “Where are you going? Where is she?”
“I have to go to Asgard.” The frustration of it all bubbled out in a bitter laugh. “The only other person to know about her and have that kind of magic… was Loki.”
Tony took back. “Loki?” Thor nodded, unable to look at him, feeling so much shame it hurt. “What would Loki want with her? I know he was a little fascinated and tried to mind control her to his side a couple times but, I mean, I feel like he could find someone similar when the literal galaxy is open to him.”
“I don’t know if it had anything to do with her powers.” Thor mumbled. In a sudden switch he clapped a hand on Tony’s shoulder, brushing aside the deeply confused and concerned look, “I’ll find her. I’ll bring her home. I swear it.”
Tony was growing annoyed with the refusal to explain anything further, grinding his teeth before looking back at his system that failed to protect you in the first place. A hard determination filled his eyes before looking back, “I’m coming with you.”
Lurching his hand back, Thor stared appalled. “Absolutely not.”
“This is my fault-”
“It really isn’t-”
“I’m not just going to sit here while she’s out in the galaxy with your maniac brother!” It was hard not to see the guilt and blame in Tony, knowing his equipment failed not just him but you when this was supposed to be the safest place in the world. Then again it was also hard not to see the trouble he’d be in bringing Tony.
Closing your eyes and walking through, it was like stepping into a cave. At first you thought you had, until you looked up. There room was pitch black but far above your head was a perfect circle for the sky, stars twinkling in a globe. When a light came, a ball of pure white glowing from Loki’s hand, he smiled to you in revealing a dome room of metal, the walls etched with large circles overlapping and craved in ruins. It was almost sad with it’s forgotten condition, the metal rusted and cracked, caked in a layer of ice yet a bit glossy now, like it had been blasted with heat. Below your feet was a raised platform, eight deep gutter lines reached out from under it, steaming though nothing was in them.
Loki stepped closer to you, “Do me a favor? Lift us through that hole in the ceiling would you?”
Looking between him and the ceiling, it appeared the most sensible thing to do with the only exit in front of you two caved in. Reluctantly, you let go of him to crouched down. Most of the ice you created was pulled from the air, but strangely you felt a surge jump up your arms as you reached for the cold. Nothing was created, but you felt ice stretch far beyond you, feeling almost eager to be used on your call. There was just so much of it.
“Something wrong?”
You looked up at him, a quirk to his lips he failed to hide. “N-no.”
Focusing, a pillar started springing from below your feet, slow at first, gradually growing faster to not unstable balance. The pillar grew high, far higher than you intended and the winds were harsh outside the dome. A thin but strong clear layer of ice sprouted up to protect you and him from being pushed off before you lifted your hands. It was all so easy, so effortless on your endurance, in fact you felt energized. You didn’t tell him any of that, instead tried to hold back the unease. Loki seemed to get it anyway, looking from your hands you were busy examining and smiling a bit wider when you caught his eye. You gave him a stubborn grump face before looking out.
The world was struck in midnight, not sun and no moon above a sky blanketed in stars, clouds of cosmic dust painting it purples and blues. The mountains that encased the area were so large and so tall they disappeared in black grey clouds, silhouetted giants the harsh winds withered away the snow from. There were no trees, no animals, but below, the pillar stood in the dead center of ruins stretching far and wide.
It was clear to you a battle had visited the once capital city. Blasted gaping holes in buildings, the things inside left in their final place, forgotten by fleeing citizens. Littered were glowing blue stones helping you discern it all between toppled towers and demolished aches. You wondered if they’d been street lamps once, and tried to imagine the city when it was vibrant and alive. Mystical as it seemed to only glitter with a small layer of ice, the snow stopping at its borders by seemingly nothing.
Bewildered and bewitched, you whispered, “What is this place?”
“A world you’ve heard so often, yet never taken to.” His hand raised to you, brushing along your jaw for your attention. You responded instantly to the feather touch, looking to him as he announced, “Jotunheim.”
You watched as his skin darkened under contact with you, dragging your eyes away to the city again. “What happened?”
“They once had their own form of civilization, at least had started creating a stable environment for themselves. Ah, but old traditions, how hard they die.” He didn’t take his eyes off you, looking into yours that were so distracted on the silent and broken kingdom. “Frost Giants are war-bound creatures, valuing their strength and itching to use it, to prove themselves and conquer all others weaker than them. They threw their chance to the wind. As they lost their impossible war they abandoned their progress, feeling the pleasures of life is what made them weak, retreating back into the caves and mountains.”
Pulling close to him, staring off feeling like you’d catch ghosts between the alleys, Loki whispered down to you. “I want you to remake it.”
Taken back, he chuckled at you, white teeth between cold blue lips and teasing red eyes, “No one is here but you and me. This history is loathed among them. Take it, create something only you can.”
Feeling overwhelmed by the request you stepped back and fiddled, “I-I’m not strong enough to make a city, I don’t even know how that would really work I-”
“Have you ever tried?” Of course you hadn’t. Even if you wanted to, it would only panic everyone, the true extent of your abilities left uncharted for their comfort. But even still, could you really? Loki took your lowered chin, pulling it up to face him from your doubt. “Try.”
Ironically a shiver ran down your spine. Finding some stability, you sighed and crouched down again, both hands on the platform. Again it was like a jolt of electricity, gluing your hands and taunting you to covered the world in an unending glacier of ice. Instead you drew up the already set layout, the forgotten marks not quite withered away, shocking yourself with how far your reach could spread.
Your abilities were only limited by your imagination now, pulling up on the chill around and below you, feeling it crawl high like a swarm, lifting the stones in their place, using the ice to crystallize into a finished smooth layer. 
 Loki watched it all from up high, like a garden flourishing, molding into something of dreams. The city shimmered and glowed anew as building crawled to a stand, bridges connecting the higher layers. He stepped forward as a massive tower in the distance began to crack and burst, reshaping like a flower blooming, vines spinning and encasing it, spreading wide in a clear layer to form a bubbled cone, others joining a little ways below it. Loki couldn’t help but smile. It seemed you were thinking of the future, perhaps already claiming a castle for yourself. Looking to you, a blizzard orb began swirling around you, streaks of blue lightning cracking from your hands and brewing a storm in the pedestal you and him stood on.
Suddenly as the glowing stones cracked and started to glow the city, the pedestal began to lower, melt away back into Jotunheim's abandoned and barely working Bifrost. Inside glowed a pale blue with stones decorating the platform in a spinning mosaic. The ice was gone from the rusted metal and the exit remade and devoid of rubble, the doors wide open, a thin layer of glistening ice to keep them all together in an effort to show the design once carved into it a thousand years ago.  
In a release of breath at the magnificent power displayed, he looked back in time to see you stumble to stand. Quickly he caught you, nitrogen mist steaming from your beautiful skin and spilling from your lips. Your pupils were wide and glowing white as you looked up to him, “That was amazing.” You sighed into a smile tainted in bliss.  
Loki chuckled at that, his voice bouncing off the clean and lit dome. Your smoking hand came up and caressed his cheek, making him still a moment as his skin changed to it’s darker hues. There was such adoration in your eyes as you whispered, “You are so beautiful.”
His smile faded as your white stare gazed into his red eyes. Loki tilted his head curiously. Seeing how your mind was as clouded as the fog bellowing from you, he wondered how he really looked to you. Using his free hand, no longer needing to create a light, he lifted your legs and carried you away into your city. You were going to need your mind for when the residence of this cold planet caught wind of your creation from their abandoned and forbidden lands.
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