A/N: ~ Inspired by one of our lovelies on the discord who requested some sweatpants smut - Enjoy! ~

"Swan, I can't wear these out of the house. Where are all of my pants?" Killian asked, checking for the pair he'd left folded in the laundry room, his black sweater just meeting the low-slung waistband of his joggers.

"Um, I washed them, but I forgot to start the dryer earlier. They're drying now though," Emma muttered, tugging on her boots and reaching above her for Killian's jacket.

"Can't we wait until they're dry to go to the store?"

"Nope," she said, tossing the leather jacket across the entryway and shooting him what she hoped was a charming smile as he snatched it out of the air. "It'll take too long, and we really need to find something for dinner and get it started. You know my parents rarely ever get a night without Neal, and David couldn't stop talking about how much they're looking forward to this. I don't want to ruin it by not having food ready. Besides, what's wrong with wearing your sweatpants?"

"These are for the privacy of our home," he purred, sidling into her space as he slipped his jacket on, popping his hook through the sleeve. "They don't exactly provide the support and coverage a man like me needs, love."

"Yeah, that's what those boxer briefs I bought you were for," Emma deadpanned, ignoring how her eyes wanted to flicker to where he was most definitely not wearing her gift.

"Bloody inconvenience those things," he muttered, dropping down beside her on the bench and lacing up his boots. "No freedom of movement, and it's only one more layer to take off."

"Come on," Emma laughed, very familiar with her pirate's loathing for what he called 'small clothes', "we just need to get the job done. It'll be quick, in and out, no big deal."

/

It wasn't until they were parked and heading into the store that Emma realized maybe bringing her husband along in pants like that was a big deal and a bad idea, all rolled into one. The soft drape of the joggers left little to the imagination as he strode in front of her, each step he took framing the firm curve of his ass. She hurried to catch up with him, glancing down to see if – yup, just like he'd said, not enough coverage for a man of his size, especially when he was walking so quickly.

A wicked idea began to form in her mind, the pang of desire between her legs making her think that a little grocery store flirtation would be just what she needed to take her mind off the anxiety of cooking dinner for her mom, a woman who's table settings alone always looked like something out of a magazine.

"Alright, Swan, let's find something to impress your mother, shall we?" Killian called back to her, hooking a cart and swinging it in front of him as he pushed through the main doors, heading straight for the fruits and vegetables, Emma's gaze lingering on the play of his firm cheeks the entire way.

"Yeah," she sighed, her mind very far from what one did with turnips and which spices went well with salmon, instead focusing on just how she could use those sweatpants to make their shopping a little more interesting.

She couldn't help herself.

At first it was just small comments, and she couldn't be sure if he was even picking up on her innuendos, as subtle as they were – his face serious as he looked over the display of potatoes. She decided she would have to be a little more blatant if she wanted to get a rise out of him.

"These strawberries look delicious," she hummed, holding up the package of bright red fruits and eyeing them longingly. She stepped closer to his side, her tongue wetting her lips as he finally met her gaze, sensing she was up to something from her change in tone. "I wonder how they'd taste if you were to dip them in something other than sugar, maybe some cream? Maybe while I'm splayed out in our bed?"

"What are you doing, Swan?" he choked out, shifting on his feet as the potato he was holding dropped back onto the stack and rolled to the floor, coming to rest across the aisle.

"Just imagining how you might feed it to me after a long night, dragging it along my folds and then – "

"I'm not sure what your intentions are, love, but I would rethink them," he growled lowly, maneuvering his hook to push the carton of strawberries back toward the shelf. "These pants are not meant for such thoughts."

"Maybe that's the point," she quipped, dropping the fruit and staring longingly at his crotch where she could easily see his hardness growing, the thin material of his sweats stretching upward over its thick outline. "I'd forgotten just how amazing you look in those pants when you're a little hot and bothered."

"And a public place is where you decided to revisit this – and there's nothing little about me, Swan."

"Oh, I know, and what can I say, I'm feeling a little adventurous," she teased, her laugh following him as he ducked quickly around the fruit stand when someone stopped to give a quick hello to the town's sheriff.

He snatched a pineapple from in front of him, balancing it on the edge of the counter in front of his still growing erection, digging his palm into the spiked outer shell and doing his best to think of anything other than the way a strawberry would look, red and glistening, as he dragged it through his release as it dripped from her soft folds, coating the fruit as he rolled it across her lips...

"Bloody hell," he muttered, willing himself to relax as Emma smiled knowingly over the shoulder of the person she was speaking with.

He'd known these sweatpants had been a terrible mistake.

And so it went through the rest of the store – Emma holding up a large, cured sausage in the deli section, running her finger up and down the wrapping as she measured its worth.

"It's a little small, don't you think? Probably won't be enough for a cheese plate," she concluded, leaning past him to put it back before her lips grazed his ear, her words a whisper. "I like my meat a little bigger, but you know that, don't you?"

He'd barely had enough time to seek cover behind the shopping cart before they were accosted once again by another overly friendly local – an elderly woman who waved at Emma and crooned how lovely it was to see a husband helping with the shopping, and pushing the cart as well!

He'd smiled weakly and muttered something about always being a gentleman, though the throbbing hardness between his legs and the way his thoughts were drifting to just how much of a mouthful he wanted to give his wife would indicate otherwise.

"He's always such a big help," Emma agreed, thanking the woman for saying hello and urging him on toward the next aisle, clearly thrilled with the game she was playing as she allowed him to find some measure of composure behind the safety of the cart.

"You know," she mused, studying a can of something or other, "I really do love those pants, Killian. You should wear them out more often."

"Don't think I'll be giving you an opportunity like this ever again," he hissed, his cheeks flushed and hand fisted tightly around the handle of the cart as he stared, jaw clenched, at the rows of canned goods in front of him. "Enjoy it while you can, Swan."

"Oh, I intend to," she whispered, ducking and brushing in front of him in the crowded aisle under the ruse of reaching for something on the bottom shelf, her shoulder rubbing brazenly against his crotch, all of his blood pumping once more to his aching cock.

He spun away from her physical nearness with a strangled groan that turned into a snarl of frustration as he knocked over a display of kitchen gadgets, dozens of packages clattering against the floor as the cardboard pyramid keeled to one side.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, doing his best to catch the thing with his hook and straighten it while still keeping his hips angled away from the other patrons in the aisle.

"You better be careful where you swing that thing," Emma chimed in, her face a flawless mask of innocence as she motioned toward his hook, blatantly ignoring the prominent tent in his pants as she knelt and began picking up the small avalanche of peelers and can openers, her lip caught between her teeth as she gazed up to meet hard glare of his eyes, dark promise swimming in their depths.

The frozen food aisle provided some small measure of relief, and although Emma had assured him they didn't need anything from there, he took plenty of time standing in front of the open freezer doors making absolutely certain that was the case, much to her amusement. From there he'd kept his distance, pushing the cart and mentally reciting the words on each sign he saw in an attempt to tune out any new attempts at luring him into further embarrassing situations.

It was hard to avoid her brazen smile once they'd entered the check out lane, but one scowl had been enough to make his Swan back down, if only a trifle, her blatant innuendos disappearing as she made polite conversation with the woman checking them out, flashing him only the occasional look that told just how much she'd enjoyed her impromptu game.

Her smile faltered a bit when he only returned her gaze with a deep, measured look, and perhaps she thought her was angry with her over her moment of fun. It was a misconception he didn't dispel, loading the groceries into the back seat of the bug silently before returning the cart to its place. Her good humor had shifted to something far more uncertain as he studiously avoided looking at her – good, he wanted her off balance – and it wasn't until she felt the hard steel of his hook around her wrist that she realized just exactly what she'd done.

He wasn't angry, not at all, but he was a man driven to the edge, and now she was going to bloody well see to it that some of those naughty things she's intimated came to pass.

"We're not going anywhere just yet, Swan," he rasped, the tip of his hook grazing along her leather jacket until it slipped through the key ring she held in her hand, pulling them out of her grasp. "You put on quite the brazen display in there. Did you enjoy that, love? Making me swell with my need for you where anyone could have seen? Did you enjoy making me desperate?"

"Well, it was fun," she admitted, "seeing you so ready for me even though we were surrounded by people, and once my parents head out for the– "

"What you've forgotten, darling, is that desperate men will go to any lengths to get what they want," he reminded her, shoving the keys into his jacket and grabbing her hand, leading her firmly away from the bug.

"Killian," she hissed in disbelief, stumbling slightly as he dragged her toward the alley that ran between the grocery store and the next building. "The groceries! What are you doing?"

"The groceries can wait – and I think you know exactly what I'm doing, Swan."

"We are not having sex in there," she groaned, the words contradicting the tightening in her core as she thought about him taking her up against the shadowed brick wall, mere feet away from where people were walking to their cars.

"Aye, we are not having sex, but it's about time I put that traitorous little mouth of yours to good use."

"Oh my god, Killian – " she shot a nervous glance behind her as they entered the alley, no one in sight as her husband pulled her behind an empty stack of pallets where they would be concealed from anyone walking by. "We can't just – "

"If you believe for even an instant that I'm heading back home, to sit with your bloody parents for dinner after your little game – no relief in sight as they natter on – then you've forgotten who I was before I met you..."

"A pirate," she swallowed – she hadn't forgotten, had enjoyed teasing that part of him back to the surface – her breath leaving her as he pressed her firmly against the brick wall, his hand running along the edge of her breast before stopping to cup her cheek, eyes dark and wild.

"Aye, and pirates take what they want."

"Well," she teased, the uncertainty in her voice washed away by the tide of desire spreading beneath her skin as his thumb grazed over her lower lip, "it has been a while since the Captain has come to play."

"Oh, he's never far, Swan," Killian purred, forcing her mouth open with his finger and sampling her wet heat with the pad of his thumb. "Now, get on your knees for the Captain."

Emma was pretty sure she'd never been so wet in her life, her leather jacket scraping along the gritty bricks as she sunk to her knees on the cold ground, Killian's stance wide and demanding as she knelt between his legs, her cheek brushing against the soft material of the sweats he hadn't wanted to wear – the ones that did nothing to hide the massive tent he was sporting, her nose grazing along its length as she nuzzled into him, inhaling deeply.

"You're not here to enjoy yourself, love," he smirked darkly above her, "you're here to get the job done."

She swallowed heavily, tongue and teeth worrying her lip as she looped her fingers into the waistband of his pants and yanked them down, his heavy shaft bobbing against her as she chased after it with her mouth – his head swollen and dark, glazed with a hint of precum that hit her taste buds like the most delicious reward. If this was what she got from teasing her husband – she would gladly repeat the performance.

He groaned above her, his hand fisted among her locks as he allowed her a brief moment to explore, her tongue flattened against the underside of his cock while she swallowed him down, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat. His member was only half inside the wet grasp of her mouth before she pulled back, curling her tongue around his shaft and licking at his weeping slit – but it wasn't what he wanted.

"No, no, no, Swan," Killian chided, his grip on her tightening as he twisted her hair, forcing her to look up at him. "I know you can do better than that, love – I've watched myself disappear entirely into that tight throat of yours on many an occasion. Let's make certain to put in our best work, shall we?"

Need pulsed between Emma's legs, nearly forcing her to double over in an attempt to relieve it, but somehow she managed to nod her understanding as his fingers tugged against her scalp, wetting her lips and opening her mouth wide as she dived forward once more, abandoning her teasing in favor of getting him fully inside of her as quickly as possible, her throat finally opening as she calmed her breathing and swallowed around him, feeling his swollen head push deeper as she inhaled through her nose, her breath muffled by the thatch of dark curls at his base.

"Just like that, Swan – I'm going to fill up that naughty little mouth of yours. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bend you over the bloody bread display and fill that needy cunt?" he hissed, thrusting languidly into her throat as her eyes sought him from beneath her lashes, blown with desire, "my hand over your mouth as I took what I needed, your legs shaking around me as I painted your sweet, pink folds with my release?"

His words stoked the fire in her belly, the scrap of lace she was wearing slick and wet with her arousal as she imagined him taking her in just such a way, everyone seeing the dark, demanding man he truly was – the pirate always waiting just beneath the mask of the gentleman. The alley filled with the soft rumble of his grunts as his steel grip controlled her movements, using her mouth just as he'd promised he would, like nothing more than a wet hole to be filled, a thing for his pleasure, not for hers.

"Do you like this, Emma? Is that why you played your little game in there, because you wanted me to use you like a whore in the back alley? Were you hoping I would fuck you, raise your hips around my own and slide into your dripping cunt?"

She writhed in his grip, his filthy words rolling over her like an actual touch, her core throbbing and clenching around its emptiness as he reamed her mouth, saliva dripping from the corners of her lips as he thrust powerfully into her, her nose butting against his stomach as he panted and moaned.

"Don't think you'll be getting it once we're at home either, love," he growled, his deep strokes within her throat becoming erratic as his cock swelled, his release coiled and ready as his balls tightened against her chin, warning her. "I want you squirming in your seat all through dinner, your greedy quim swollen and dripping for me – remembering the taste of me right here, pressed against a dirty building, wondering if it's the...if it's the only taste you'll get..."

Emma arched her neck as he pushed deeply one last time, her throat burning as his cock thickened and erupted deeply inside of her, her muscles rippling around him as she swallowed desperately, relieved when he dragged himself half free, the pulsing head of him resting on her tongue as he shot several more ropes of hot come into her mouth, rolling forward and spreading the salty, sweet taste of himself as far as he could, a thin trickle of his release painting the corner of her mouth as she breathed and swallowed around his softening flesh, her tongue curling around his shaft, enjoying the way he softened and twitched inside of her.

His grip finally loosened in her hair, his fingers gently massaging her scalp where the sting of his dominance was just beginning to burn, stroking her gently until she sighed and let his length slip from her mouth, her head falling forward to rest against his thigh.

"There's a good girl," he purred, hooking the waistband of his sweats and dragging them back up to cover himself as he lifted her back to her feet. "Come on then, we've a lovely dinner to prepare for your parents – and then once they're gone, maybe I'll let you have your dessert."

/

"That salmon was delicious, Killian," Mary Margaret gushed, leaning back in the chair and resting her hand against her chest. "I'm better with non-seafood dishes, so it was lovely to have something different for a change – and after the week we had, it was so nice to have a night off from cooking entirely."

"I agree – fantastic meal, Hook. Thanks for having us over tonight, it was nice to get an evening for just the four of us," David added, rising to bring his plate to the sink.

"I'm pleased you both enjoyed it," Killian returned politely. "We didn't often get salmon aboard the Jolly, so it's not something I make often – Emma and I had quite the experience at the grocery store trying to find everything we needed, but the outcome was quite worth it, I think."

"Dad, sit. I got it," Emma managed to choke out, shooting just the most recent of many dirty looks over her parents' heads at her husband. She gently pushed David back into the chair and took his plate, snatching Killian's as well and dumping them into the sink.

"You're a little hoarse, you sound like you could use some tea, Emma," Mary Margaret worried, swiveling in her seat to look at her daughter. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Just a little bit of a sore throat, that's all," she smiled, looking anywhere but at her husband's grin as she rinsed her hands and dried them off.

"That came on fast," David mused. "You sounded fine this morning at the station. I hope you didn't pick it up from us, Neal had a bit of a rough week and we were wondering if he might be a little sick."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, mate – it doesn't seem to be contagious. I've no signs of it myself," Hook assured them both, smiling warmly and gesturing toward the dessert Emma was carrying over from the counter. "Can we tempt you with some dessert? It's fresh baked from town."

"Oh, what kind is that?" Snow beamed, admiring the flaky, golden crust as Emma rested the pie on the table and moved to grab plates – anything to avoid looking her parents in the face. "It's always so nice to enjoy something you didn't have to bake yourself."

"Peach pie," Killian smiled widely, his eyes flashing to Emma as he ran his tongue across his teeth, "it just so happens to be my favorite, and I think Emma even whipped up some fresh cream to go on top, didn't you, Swan?"

Thankfully, no one other than Killian noticed as she nearly dropped the stack of plates, her body tensing and eyes widening as she silently begged him not to say anything else – her thoughts already far too consumed with how wet and empty she'd felt since their illicit moment in the alley. Taking a deep breath, she reclaimed her composure, tenuous though it was, and returned to the table.

"I did," she admitted, laying out the plates and frowning when Hook stilled her hand with his own, pushing away the plate she was offering him.

"None for me, love – I find I'm feeling quite full. Perhaps I'll enjoy mine later, you'll just have to make sure you save some of that cream for me."