003.
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Subject: Emma x Hook
Title: like a shotgun (i can't be outdone)
Word Count: 636
Notes/Warnings: Pron. Knife kink prompt; hook wants emma to dominate him, but she's reluctant
There’s a certain sense of irony in the way that the curve of his hook trails down his chest; in the way faint red lines appear like a snails trail as it circles back and up towards him, the way the hook shakes ever so slightly in her grip.
Her eyes are wide and her teeth are gnawing at her bottom lip as she watches, straddling his lap. She’s completely naked atop him, while he’s fully dressed, his white shirt ripped down the center.
He’s not allowed to touch her, she had reluctantly said from the start, and he’s not allowed to talk. She’d been hesitant to play his little game, still is, but she takes an authoritative role and fits it to her skin like a glove.
He hisses at the first cut, watches as she jumps slightly, her eyes darting up to his. “You insisted on a safe word, darling. I’ll use it if need be.” He said softly, goes to move a piece of hair from her face, but the knife cuts at his rib, and his hips buck up while she glares down at him.
“Do not touch me.” She hisses, and his hand drops to his side as he smirks up at her. She starts to draw patterns in his skin with the tip of the Hook, never breaking the skin, and she’s shaking slightly and he’s hyper aware of the way she gently grinds down against his leather clad thigh.
“Emma.” He breathes, closes his eyes and gasping when she slashes another cut into skin, down his sternum. There’s a thin trail of blood leaking down his ribs, and a pool of it with the new cut in the center of his chest.
“Shut up!” She barks, flinches back a moment later at her tone, but doesn’t move the hook from his skin, instead trails it down again. His stomach quivers in anticipation, and she trails the hook above the waist line of his trousers. His hips buck up, trying to rise into the cut, and Emma gives two sharp tugs at his hip, deeper than the rest.
“Gods.” He whispers, closes his eyes. She puts the hook against his cheek, and he opens his eyes to look up at her.
"You've already got a scar." She murmurs, presses the hook to fit along it. She throws the hook across the room and he rolls his eyes. "Tell me how you got it."
"Much like this, really." His laugh is cut off when she puts her hands on his hip and digs her fingers into the cut, and he lets out a pained gasp, watches her lips twitch. "Sword fight when I was a child!" He gasps again, and she grins, brings her fingers up to her face. His dick strains against his trousers as her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
"Do it." He murmurs, his thighs tremble beneath her as she hesitates before reluctantly licking at the tips of her fingers, smearing the drying blood over her lips and leaning down, slanting her lips over his.
"Gods Emma." He says against her lips, pushes her over and onto her back, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. “Emma." She wiggles beneath him, pushing her hand between them, fumbling with the ties of his trousers. "Emma, Emma" and he sinks into her, both of them closing their eyes.
"Killian," she breathes, closes her eyes and wraps her legs around his hips, fists her hands into his hair and yanks when she comes.
He thrusts, one, two, three, four and she presses her hands against the cuts on his chest and hip and comes with a loud groan, collapses a top her.
"That's a good boy." She whispers, mimics, and he presses his face to her shoulder and laughs.
Subject: Emma x Hook
Title: like a shotgun (i can't be outdone)
Word Count: 636
Notes/Warnings: Pron. Knife kink prompt; hook wants emma to dominate him, but she's reluctant
There’s a certain sense of irony in the way that the curve of his hook trails down his chest; in the way faint red lines appear like a snails trail as it circles back and up towards him, the way the hook shakes ever so slightly in her grip.
Her eyes are wide and her teeth are gnawing at her bottom lip as she watches, straddling his lap. She’s completely naked atop him, while he’s fully dressed, his white shirt ripped down the center.
He’s not allowed to touch her, she had reluctantly said from the start, and he’s not allowed to talk. She’d been hesitant to play his little game, still is, but she takes an authoritative role and fits it to her skin like a glove.
He hisses at the first cut, watches as she jumps slightly, her eyes darting up to his. “You insisted on a safe word, darling. I’ll use it if need be.” He said softly, goes to move a piece of hair from her face, but the knife cuts at his rib, and his hips buck up while she glares down at him.
“Do not touch me.” She hisses, and his hand drops to his side as he smirks up at her. She starts to draw patterns in his skin with the tip of the Hook, never breaking the skin, and she’s shaking slightly and he’s hyper aware of the way she gently grinds down against his leather clad thigh.
“Emma.” He breathes, closes his eyes and gasping when she slashes another cut into skin, down his sternum. There’s a thin trail of blood leaking down his ribs, and a pool of it with the new cut in the center of his chest.
“Shut up!” She barks, flinches back a moment later at her tone, but doesn’t move the hook from his skin, instead trails it down again. His stomach quivers in anticipation, and she trails the hook above the waist line of his trousers. His hips buck up, trying to rise into the cut, and Emma gives two sharp tugs at his hip, deeper than the rest.
“Gods.” He whispers, closes his eyes. She puts the hook against his cheek, and he opens his eyes to look up at her.
"You've already got a scar." She murmurs, presses the hook to fit along it. She throws the hook across the room and he rolls his eyes. "Tell me how you got it."
"Much like this, really." His laugh is cut off when she puts her hands on his hip and digs her fingers into the cut, and he lets out a pained gasp, watches her lips twitch. "Sword fight when I was a child!" He gasps again, and she grins, brings her fingers up to her face. His dick strains against his trousers as her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
"Do it." He murmurs, his thighs tremble beneath her as she hesitates before reluctantly licking at the tips of her fingers, smearing the drying blood over her lips and leaning down, slanting her lips over his.
"Gods Emma." He says against her lips, pushes her over and onto her back, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. “Emma." She wiggles beneath him, pushing her hand between them, fumbling with the ties of his trousers. "Emma, Emma" and he sinks into her, both of them closing their eyes.
"Killian," she breathes, closes her eyes and wraps her legs around his hips, fists her hands into his hair and yanks when she comes.
He thrusts, one, two, three, four and she presses her hands against the cuts on his chest and hip and comes with a loud groan, collapses a top her.
"That's a good boy." She whispers, mimics, and he presses his face to her shoulder and laughs.