004.
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Subject: Emma x Hook
Title: roll the dice (and swear your loves for me)
Word Count 1,788
Notes/Warnings: Despite the title, not actually a love-y dove-y fic. Porn. And dice and alcohol. The usual.
Emma sways, feels her stomach lurch and Hook’s arm on her shoulder, steadying her.
“Ah, my lady, you are drunk.” He slurs into her ear, and she hiccups a laugh, pushing at him.
“So are you, my captain.” And she slides her arm through the crock of his, leaning against him as they make their way to her apartment - or Mary Margaret’s apartment, but she’s currently shacking up with Charming and Emma doesn’t want to know - and Killian Jones temporary house of residence until he can get a job and earn money to rent a place at Granny’s.
Once they’ve gotten back to her house, she's fumbles with her keys to unlock the door and, groans when it finally opens, tumbling through with only the door to keep her standing. Hook is pushing past her, and she turns to yell at him for pushing her, but he stumbles to the ground with a throaty laugh, and she finds herself laughing along with him.
“You said you had more drinks, love.” He says, smirking up at her, and she sways slightly because fuck, he is one very good looking pirate captain.
“Right!” She says, too loudly. Her movements are jerky as she walks to her fridge. As she leans up on her toes to reach for her bottle of unopened vodka, she falls against the fridge and ends up knocking off half the things atop the refrigerator: unopened bills, recipes, cash and other things she’d forgotten about.
“What is this?” He asks, taking the bottle from her while she cleans the mess, and she looks over, eyes glazed.
“Oh.” She snatches it out of his hand, holding its pair in her other hand. “It’s, um, it’s adult dice.”
“Adult dice?” He questions, slowly, and she bites her cheek.
“Yes.” Emma rolls them to him, and he looks down, reads them. Then he lets out a slow, low laugh and looks up at her.
“Bite ass? Don’t mind if I do?” And he laughs like it’s the best joke in the world, tipping over onto his side.
“Do you even know how to play?” Emma asks, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning. He smirks.
“Of course not! But you’re going to teach me, aren’t you, Miss Swan?” He raises a challenging eye brow, staring her down - and she wonders how he does that, considering she’s standing over him - before blinking and crawling over to the couch. “Well come now, we haven’t got all night.” He pats the spot next to him as he makes himself comfortable, stretching his legs out before him.
She eyes him suspiciously for a moment but sighs, rolls her eyes, grabs the bottle of vodka he’s forgotten and makes her way to the couch. “Well, the basi-ic” she hiccups, grins and laughs and takes a swig of the spirit. “Basic idea is that you do what the dice say, so-“ she rolls the dice on the table, landing on ‘nip ear’ and she leans over him, breathing softly against his ear before taking the lobe between her teeth - taking satisfaction in the way he tenses, ever so slightly, beneath her - and nibbles his ear; counting one, two, three, four, five in her head before pulling away, watching him closely as she takes another swig from the bottle. “just do what the dice say.” Then she smiles, handing the dice to him. “First round’s five seconds, next round it doubles, and then so on.” But he’s already rolled the dice, and he watches her with a fierce gleam in his eye.
“Lift your shirt, my dear.” She feels his voice in the pit of her stomach, as he taps his index finger against her hip, and she looks over at the table, reading ‘lick navel’, while he watches her from under thick lashes, dipping his head down, his nose bumping her stomach and her thigh quivers in anticipation. His lips press against the lower part of her stomach, just above the waistline of her jeans, and his tongue darts out against her, warm and wet, and drags up, dipping into her belly button and his teeth graze her while his tongue swirls a-
“Five seconds.” He mouths against her stomach, lifting his head and winking up at her. She lets out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and sits up, yanking her shirt down. “For you.” He grins, holding out the dice for her. “Ten seconds this round, I believe?”
“-Right.” She nods and lets out a shaky laugh as she rolls the dice, both respectively landing on ‘blow lips’. Letting out a shallow breath of air, she's turning to face him. He’s smirking, that same infuriating smug smirk he always wears and she narrows her eyes at him. She leans into him, locking eyes with him as she gently starts to blow.
His lips part, a gentle exhale of air, and she can smell the alcohol on both of their breaths; his rum, hers whisky. He's watching her so intently, a small tilt at the corner of his mouth as he grips her thigh, slightly leaning forward. His fingers burn through her jeans as his hand trails up her thigh; feather light and barely there but scorching.
“Ten seconds!” She breathes, pushing his hand off her thigh. His eyes droop slightly as she pulls back from him, but his open mouthed smirk is still in place.
“Okay.” He sighs, takes the dice and rolls them again and he lets out a jovial, yet wicked laugh as the dice land on ‘pat ass’. “Come here, love.” And he pats his thigh with his stump, because his other hand is gripping at her thigh, pulling her towards him.
She ends up falling on him, but he steadies her and pulls her thigh to one side so that she is straddling him, glaring down at him. His hands are on her ass in an instant; kneading her through her jeans and she feels it right there and the way she bucks down against him is purely unintentional, but he notices it and lets out a short, low laugh and rests his head against her shoulder.
“Are you done with this game yet?” He questions, smiling against the skin of her shoulder and he presses up against her. She lets out a small, sharp moan and suddenly he's pressing his lips against hers; fierce and soft and hard at the same time, wrapping his arms around her waist and there isn’t any space between them.
She pulls away and his lips move along her jaw and down her throat, alternating between biting and sucking and groaning as she grinds down against him, feeling him hardening beneath her.
He holds her still, suddenly, as he grinds up against her, breathing heavily against her throat. She lets out a chocked moan, wanting him desperately.
“Bed.” He says.
“Right.” She replies, standing up and pulling him with her. They slam against a wall and he’s yanked her top over her head, letting it fall to the floor and got her fly undone, pushes her up against the door of her room and sucks bruises into her neck before they make it to the bed. He is hovering over her with barely any space between them as he trails hot, wet kisses down her throat and chest. He sucks on the cleavage presented from her bra, and she tightens a fist in his hair, pulling him up to her and kissing him again. His hand works at pulling her jeans down her legs and she assists him with her feet, and her underwear is next.
She laughs when he looks at her bra with confusion in his eyes, and she unhooks it herself and throws it to the side, deciding that he’s wearing far too much clothes when he kisses her again and feels the scratch of his jacket on her sensitive nipples.
“Take off your clothes.” She sighs, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. He sighs impatiently as he works the buttons, and she works at the ones on his trousers, tugging them down and wrapping her hand around him. He gasps, shocked, and lurches forward slightly, covering up his surprise by pushing her back onto the bed and kissing her, his mouth slanting over hers as she twists her wrist. He kisses her again, and again and again and again, and he’s trailing down her body with open mouthed and wet kisses, then looks up at her as he sucks at her hip, winking.
His scruff scratches the inside of her thigh as he breathes against her, his eyes flicking up at her for a moment before his head ducks down and she lets out a gasp as his tongue drags up, pressing firmly against her clit. Her hips buck up in response, and his arm presses her hips down as he closes his eyes, his hand splayed against her inner thigh.
She groans, her hands in tight fists in his hair and she closes her eyes against the pleasure. She chokes on his name when he curls two fingers inside of her, humming against her.
“No.” She chokes out, feeling the tell tail signs of her orgasm; the tightening in the pit of her stomach, the curling of her toes. No. He frowns up at her, but pulls away, his lips glistening and chin wet, and she pulls him up to her; presses her lips against his cheek and his jaw and his neck.
He falls with his back on the bed and a soft laugh, his smug smirk ever present, and she straddles his legs, eases herself down and they both let out a low groan. She rests her forehead against his and closes her eyes, and his hand gripping her hip helps to ease her up and down and up again.
She lets out a soft sigh as she starts to move faster, and his mouth moves to her throat, planting wet kisses along her jaw, and she cries out when he presses his thumb to the sensitive bundles of nerves between her legs.
“Killian.” She breathe, and he sits up to thrust up into her, his hips moving rapidly as his breathe catches in his throat. “Killian, Killian, Killian.” And she twines her fist into his hair, pulls his head back and nips at his neck. “Oh God!” She whispers, her hips pressing down to meet him-thrust for thrust.
“Not-“ he groans, feels her tighten around him, bite down on his shoulder, her fingers moving hastily between them, and comes a moment after she does, with a groan and his fingers bruising her hip. “Quite” He murmurs, breathlessly, and kisses her sweaty forehead.