Recently I requested smutty drabble prompts via tumblr...

Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT.

T-content...don't really get into that M-rated territory with this one.

Also, I love reviews so ya know... ;)

colinodorknoghue asked:

not that smutty (well it could be, depends on how dirty your brain is and c'mon, i've read your stuff lol) but i have a need of emma admiring hook doing whatever it is that involves him being shirtless and sweaty under the scalding sun and lifting heavy stuff (drooling? who's drooling? not me)

So initially I was going to go with something all hot and smutty but I wrote a particularly devastating scene in ITF last night and as I was crying I decided to go with something fluffy and feelsy and somewhat silly…

*took some creative liberties and this is set sometime after defeating the Wicked Witch and the whole gang is now back in the Enchanted Forest attempting to pick up and move on...holla.*

There was absolutely no reason for him to not be wearing a shirt.

None at all.

Everyone else was wearing a shirt.

She didn't care that the sun was beating down, relentless and unforgiving; the muggy atmosphere near stifling as the group of men in front of her struggled against the heat, attempting to build proper stables to go along with the newly restored castle. It didn't matter that there was a slightly grating voice inside of her head, questioning the real reason that she was so annoyed with his lack of clothing, the mocking whispers causing her shoulders to tense and her stomach to drop just a little.

And really, regardless of the heat, despite her own chaotic and turbulent emotions when it came to the infuriating man…

There was just no damned reason for him to not be wearing a shirt.

After all, she'd been minding her own business, heading back to the castle after spending some much needed down time in the gardens with Henry when she'd quite suddenly stumbled upon the sweaty and shirtless pirate; the unexpected scene nearly causing her to ungracefully trip over her own two feet, forcing her to slow her stride.

Drawing her lower lip into her mouth, her mind going momentarily blank, she shuffled from one foot to the other, standing just off to the side of him, her entire body freezing up as she tried in vain to tear her gaze away from him; failing miserably as, completely unaware of her presence, he began to hammer at some lumber with fluid and calculated movements— tight and taut muscles flexing with the effort. Eyes roaming over his figure, ignoring the still whispering voice that was ringing in her ears, hissing at her to look away; greedily, almost hungrily, she drank in the sight of him —pants seated low on his hips, dark trail of hair lining its way down his abdomen, sweat slick skin glistening in the sun, jagged scars, both old and new, only adding to his dark and somewhat devastating appeal.

And goddammit there was absolutely no reason for him to not be wearing a fucking shirt—her mind tauntingly conjuring up images as she continued to stare.

Explicit, terrible, filthy, filthy images.

(Images she may or may not have considered and possibly fantasized about one too many times in the safe and private confines of her own room.)

Cheeks flaming hot, a buzz roaring in her ears and a prickling of heady awareness dancing across her skin, she tried to block out the erotic scenes that suddenly and tauntingly flashed in her head—his slick and hot body hovering over hers, eyes intense and bright burning down at her, mouth quirking up into a salacious smirk as he pushed himself forward, her mouth parting on a silent moan as the cool and smooth metal of his hook slowly—

"Swan?"

"Hmmmm? What?"

Eyes blinking rapidly, she shook herself slightly, swallowing over the sudden dryness in her throat as the depraved pictures fled her brain fast, her hazy vision coming back into focus as she slowly considered her surroundings…

Hook. Shirtless. Outside.

Heat.

Too much heat.

It was fine.

She was fine.

Everything was fine.

Brain clearing, awareness settling in, she warily watched as he stepped forward slowly, staring at her expectantly—the obvious concern and confusion etching into his features causing her to grit her teeth, fingers curling and clenching into tight fists at her side as she mentally berated herself for acting like some hormone-driven teenager.

She was a thirty year old woman for Chrissakes.

"Are you alright lass?"

"What? I—Yeah, I'm fine…why?" Her voice sounded raspier than normal, her stuttering words causing him to stare at her a little harder; the heat in her face having nothing to do with the hot summer day, a fact that made her want to pull back and hit something (or someone) hard, a livid curse on the tip of her tongue as she silently swore at herself for her none too subtle ogling.

The damned pirate was going to be her undoing…something that she'd been trying to avoid for the last couple of months now, the realization leaving her feeling both terrified and thrilled and completely at a loss—wants, needs, and desires a jumbled mess of emotions.

"Are you quite certain?"

"Yes." It came out harsher than warranted, her tone clipped and her lips pursing slightly, blood rushing hot in her veins, a low buzz humming in her ears.

Raising a brow, Hook took a another step forward, eyes narrowing a little as she shifted uncomfortably on her feet and avoided his gaze altogether; he was capable of seeing too much, one good look and he'd see right through her. "Hmmm…curious thing…I said your name a few times…you just stood there…didn't so much as flinch."

"Oh?" Feigning nonchalance, she pretended to find the work taking place behind him absolutely fascinating, her body nearly twitching with its desire for her to direct her focus on him.

"Aye. You seemed rather…distracted."

"I wasn't." she said it quickly, clumsily, barreling on before he had the chance to interrupt her and call her out, the voices in her head demanding she just turn around now and get the hell out of there. "I was…um…admiring the progress…" she muttered lamely, forcing her expression to remain impassive as she fed him the weak lie, completely ignoring the scorching feel of his eyes, too knowing and too searching, nearly burning her skin—her gaze fixed on a point over his shoulder, her vision a little blurry and completely unfocused.

"Really it seemed as though—"

"Nope. Whatever it seemed it wasn't…at all." Without thinking, she turned her attention back to him, a frown tugging at her lips and her throat narrowing fractionally, as her eyes, of their own accord, swept over him slowly; gaze widening just a little as he shuffled even closer…and sonuvabitch who knew that the smell of lumber and sweat could be such a damned turn on.

"That so?"

Scowl deepening, alarm bells sounding in her ears, Emma shook her head, physically forcing herself to remain rooted to the spot; everything inside of her screaming for her to back away as he moved towards her again, his scent, the heat radiating from his body, the pull of his eyes, forcing another slew of images to bombard her fast—bodies moving desperately, frantically, heatedly…

And what the hell was wrong with her?

"Emma…" there was a seductive note to his voice, his tone whispering that he knew all of her deepest secrets—her most obvious desires—lilting accent luring her to just stop fighting it…to give in.

"I gotta—I gotta go." Suddenly scared, she whispered it softly, in an almost dejected tone, her voice holding not a hint of its usual no-nonsense confidence…annoyance spiking inside of her as she cursed the fact that her slight detour from the gardens had led to this.

Just another example of how she was fighting a losing battle.

The humming noise he made in his throat had her looking up quickly, and squaring her shoulders and preparing herself for some thinly veiled innuendo, she met his stare, both surprised and thrown to find soft understanding glimmering in the too blue depths. And reaching forward, his good hand coming up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, fingers lingering for a moment near her cheek, he gave her a slow and soft smile when she didn't pull away—her face feeling as though it were on fire, heart lodged firmly in her throat.

"Until next time then."

And that was it.

Just like that, never pushing her, always reading her, he let her go, backing away slowly and giving her some space; eyes lingering for a moment longer before he turned from her, sauntering back to his tools at a leisurely pace. And watching as he picked up a saw, his eyes drifting over to meet hers for a moment, she felt the awkwardness and tension slowly drain out of her body, her eyes rolling towards the sky and brows quirking upwards as he shot her a quick wink and an overconfident smile before directing his attention back to his work once again.

Turning from him, her breathing somewhat steadier and racing pulse slowing just a little, the voice in her head now scolding her for being so damned ridiculous—she'd been out of the game for way too long now—she couldn't help herself from calling over her shoulder, in a wry, somewhat dryly amused voice, "Hook?"

"Milady?"

"Put a damned shirt on."

And picking up her pace, steps a little lighter and mind somewhat clearer, his answering low chuckled followed after her as she made her way back to the castle, the sound warming her already flushed skin and weakening yet another shaky barrier around her ever softening heart…