![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salmon_pinkTitle: Hooked
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Hook/Charming
Rating: NC-17
Words: 750
Timeline: Season Three
Notes: Masturbation. Mild bloodplay. For Porn Battle XV, prompt "Prince Charming/Captain Hook - threat, overpower".
Summary: The idea that David can overpower him just does things to Hook.
He doesn’t have time for this, fuck, it’s a stupid, foolhardy idea, but that doesn’t mean Hook can stop. Slumped against a tree, legs kicked out in an untidy sprawl, back of his head scraping against the bark as his spine undulates, hips working up against his fist. Trying to hurry it along, because the others could come looking for him any moment, because he’s supposed to be on watch duty and he’s not daft enough to leave their camp defenceless for long.
But if he doesn’t do this he’s going to explode, and his cock is leaking all over his fist as he strokes rough and messy.
He’s been half-hard for what feels like days, even when his mind is elsewhere, even when he’s preoccupied with the very real dangers that Neverland presents. Every time he thinks that maybe he can fight it, maybe he can rein his damn hormones back in, he’ll catch sight of David, of Prince bloody Charming, and it’ll all come flooding back with a ferocity that leaves his knees as shaky and weak as a swooning maiden, light-headed as all the blood in his body seems to race towards his cock.
It’s all still there, so vivid in his mind. The fight aboard the Jolly Roger, thunder crashing overhead and waves lashing against the hull. Anger flaring all around, long simmering tensions boiling over. David’s face twisting up in a scowl as he lost control of his patience and his temper, and the eruption of pain when his fist connected solidly when Hook’s cheekbone. The scuffle across the deck, boots slipping against the soaked planks, grabbing at each other, hitting out when they could, and then somehow Hook’s back had been against the rail, David looming over him with fire in his eyes.
He’d felt the strength of the man then, in a way he hadn’t fully comprehended before. He’d known David was fighter, had been victim of that right-cross before, but it was nothing compared to David’s weight pressing down on him. Hook had tried to push back, but David hadn’t budged at all, and then his hands were around Hook’s wrist, forcing his arm up and towards his own face, metal hook gleaming with a flash of lightning.
Not the greatest time to find himself aching in his breeches, but at least when the tip of the hook scratched across his neck David was likely to have mistaken his gasp for one of pain instead of arousal.
But now he can’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about the power of David’s arms, thick biceps and broad shoulders. Thinking about David pinning him against the railing, against the ground, against the tree behind him, and Hook bites his lip against the groan that wants to escape him. He can’t stop thinking about his own hook, about how David turned his weapon against him, and his hips thrust up desperately as he squeezes his eyes shut and works himself hard.
It’s easy to imagine, with the heat of the jungle and the delirium of his desire fogging his mind. Easy to imagine David’s fingers curled around his wrist once again, easy to imagine it’s David raising his arm for him instead of his own addled lust. The metal of his hook is almost shockingly cool against the skin of his throat, and Hook hisses, arches his head back, feeling his hair snag against the tree. So close, and in his mind it’s David’s hand around Hook’s wrist and David’s hand around his cock, David’s voice in his ear, whispering utter filth that no prince should know.
And when the hook’s tip snags against his skin, when it bites lightly into the flesh below his jaw, Hook swears he can almost feel David’s tongue there, lapping up the blood.
Hook growls and grunts, doubling over, hook leaving a thin pink line down his neck as he comes all over his fist and belly, chills rocking through him and David’s name just barely held back behind his teeth.
It’s all rather shameful, really, he has the decency to realise that. But maybe he’ll be able to breathe now, to not feel like every step is torture against the trapped length of his cock as they traipse through Neverland’s jungle.
At least, he’ll be able to breathe until he catches the flex of David’s muscles beneath his shirt, the sway of his hips and ass as he walks ahead. And then it’ll start all over yet again.
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Hook/Charming
Rating: NC-17
Words: 750
Timeline: Season Three
Notes: Masturbation. Mild bloodplay. For Porn Battle XV, prompt "Prince Charming/Captain Hook - threat, overpower".
Summary: The idea that David can overpower him just does things to Hook.
He doesn’t have time for this, fuck, it’s a stupid, foolhardy idea, but that doesn’t mean Hook can stop. Slumped against a tree, legs kicked out in an untidy sprawl, back of his head scraping against the bark as his spine undulates, hips working up against his fist. Trying to hurry it along, because the others could come looking for him any moment, because he’s supposed to be on watch duty and he’s not daft enough to leave their camp defenceless for long.
But if he doesn’t do this he’s going to explode, and his cock is leaking all over his fist as he strokes rough and messy.
He’s been half-hard for what feels like days, even when his mind is elsewhere, even when he’s preoccupied with the very real dangers that Neverland presents. Every time he thinks that maybe he can fight it, maybe he can rein his damn hormones back in, he’ll catch sight of David, of Prince bloody Charming, and it’ll all come flooding back with a ferocity that leaves his knees as shaky and weak as a swooning maiden, light-headed as all the blood in his body seems to race towards his cock.
It’s all still there, so vivid in his mind. The fight aboard the Jolly Roger, thunder crashing overhead and waves lashing against the hull. Anger flaring all around, long simmering tensions boiling over. David’s face twisting up in a scowl as he lost control of his patience and his temper, and the eruption of pain when his fist connected solidly when Hook’s cheekbone. The scuffle across the deck, boots slipping against the soaked planks, grabbing at each other, hitting out when they could, and then somehow Hook’s back had been against the rail, David looming over him with fire in his eyes.
He’d felt the strength of the man then, in a way he hadn’t fully comprehended before. He’d known David was fighter, had been victim of that right-cross before, but it was nothing compared to David’s weight pressing down on him. Hook had tried to push back, but David hadn’t budged at all, and then his hands were around Hook’s wrist, forcing his arm up and towards his own face, metal hook gleaming with a flash of lightning.
Not the greatest time to find himself aching in his breeches, but at least when the tip of the hook scratched across his neck David was likely to have mistaken his gasp for one of pain instead of arousal.
But now he can’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about the power of David’s arms, thick biceps and broad shoulders. Thinking about David pinning him against the railing, against the ground, against the tree behind him, and Hook bites his lip against the groan that wants to escape him. He can’t stop thinking about his own hook, about how David turned his weapon against him, and his hips thrust up desperately as he squeezes his eyes shut and works himself hard.
It’s easy to imagine, with the heat of the jungle and the delirium of his desire fogging his mind. Easy to imagine David’s fingers curled around his wrist once again, easy to imagine it’s David raising his arm for him instead of his own addled lust. The metal of his hook is almost shockingly cool against the skin of his throat, and Hook hisses, arches his head back, feeling his hair snag against the tree. So close, and in his mind it’s David’s hand around Hook’s wrist and David’s hand around his cock, David’s voice in his ear, whispering utter filth that no prince should know.
And when the hook’s tip snags against his skin, when it bites lightly into the flesh below his jaw, Hook swears he can almost feel David’s tongue there, lapping up the blood.
Hook growls and grunts, doubling over, hook leaving a thin pink line down his neck as he comes all over his fist and belly, chills rocking through him and David’s name just barely held back behind his teeth.
It’s all rather shameful, really, he has the decency to realise that. But maybe he’ll be able to breathe now, to not feel like every step is torture against the trapped length of his cock as they traipse through Neverland’s jungle.
At least, he’ll be able to breathe until he catches the flex of David’s muscles beneath his shirt, the sway of his hips and ass as he walks ahead. And then it’ll start all over yet again.
