Anonymous asked you:

Prompt for CS Sexy Times week. Emma and Killian are talking about the sword fight at the lake, which leads to a sword lesson and other more enjoyable activities.

A/N: I'm sorry guys I kinda lost it for this one—I was giggling like a 12 year old because I can't type the word sword without thinking about Hook's penis and I know it's Sexy Times and that shouldn't be an issue but….I just suck. I think the fic suffered for it. So sorry about that.

Fic takes place on Hook's ship in Neverland during their search for Henry.

The sea breeze was cool and soothing against her skin, the wind carrying with it a hint of salt and something warm, something she couldn't quite place. Looking out at the clear sparkling water Emma closed her eyes, letting her mind drift a little as she tried her hardest to relax, attempting to calm her frazzled and overworked nerves.

"You should get some rest, we've a long day tomorrow."

At the sound of his voice, she jumped. He had a bad habit of sneaking up on her—after spending a couple of days on his ship it was an activity she had quickly realized he quite enjoyed. Each time he caught her unawares, his mouth would turn up slightly into a small smirk, his eyes flashing with light humor. Turning from the water, she opened her eyes and looking up at him as he continued to approach her, raised a brow. He had shed himself of his signature leather coat and without the large and dark item he appeared more approachable—freer, somewhat softer.

"The rest of your party is below, you should join them, Neverland will take its toll on you soon enough." Hook told her by way of greeting as he stopped just short of invading her personal space.

Avoiding his cool and searching blue gaze she turned her head to the side, staring out at the water once again. "I'm not tired," she stated quietly, her thoughts threatening to linger on her son's whereabouts—the images of everything that could and might have happened to him flashing in front of her eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest in an action that was both defiant and defensive, she pursed her lips and attempted to ignore both him and the disturbing thoughts.

Unfortunately for her, he was in a talkative mood.

Hearing him click his tongue once at her brush off, she resisted the urge to look back over at him, knowing his eyes were still on her—appraising and intense, light and amused, concerned and troubled—it didn't matter which look he was giving her, they all got under her skin all the same. It was a disconcerting fact she didn't care to explore at the moment.

"Well if you won't rest, how about we do something useful with our time then."

At his words, her gaze snapped back to his, and narrowing her eyes she shot him a glare. "Hook." she warned, her tone sharp, "don't even think about suggesting that we—"

"Tsk tisk darling" he interrupted her, stepping forward once, "you have a rather filthy mind if you're assuming that I was about to suggest something that's anything other than honorable. I was merely going to propose we work on your combat skills…your swordsmanship in particular."

She felt a hot blush sweep across her cheeks at his revelation, and cursing herself inwardly for jumping to conclusions, she glanced down at the ground, her eyes roaming over the wooden planks as if they were the most interesting sight she'd seen in days. And even as she felt embarrassment seep into her veins a small voice in her head attempted to chase away the feeling—reassuring her that she had every reason to believe that his remark would most likely be followed up with some crude innuendo given his past history with the blatant and colorful suggestions.

"I think I'm good on playing with swords for now." She told him flatly, and continuing to stare down at her feet, she cringed, hating how because of him she couldn't help but think of something else when referring to the weapon.

His answering chuckle was low and deep and knowing, and she'd like to say the tingles that danced up her spine were from annoyance…but she'd be lying to herself so instead she decided just to ignore it.

"Darling I've seen you in action…there's room for improvement."

Her head whipped up at that, angry shock rushing through her fast as her competitive side reared its ugly head. And dropping her mouth open for a moment she snapped it shut, before opening it again on a huffing sigh, "says the guy whose ass I handed to him on a silver platter."

He smirked at her words, inclining his head towards her, confusion briefly flit across his features, "come again?"

"I beat you."

"Ahhh, " he nodded, his eyes flashing with amusement. "So you truly believe you bested me by the lake eh?"

Cocking her head to the side and squinting into the bright sun, she nearly laughed at his question, "believe me pal—I know I did." At the sharp quirk of a dark eyebrow, she rolled her gaze to the sky, both humored and frustrated by his blatant disbelief. "Listen, I won and you lost, there's not much more to it…maybe that blow to your head caused some brief memory loss but…"

She trailed off in surprise as he chuckled quietly, and abruptly stepping back from her, turned away. Watching as he began to walk in the opposite direction, leaving her without a word, her mouth dropped open slightly and she shook her head in both confusion and disbelief.

The guy had the tendency to overreact.

With a shrug Emma turned back towards the water, a part of her somewhat disappointed that he had left her so quickly, sparring with him was a good distraction—it kept her mind from drifting dangerously. And shaking her head, she braced an elbow on the railing, before resting her chin in her hand and gazing up at the sky—her thoughts threatening to take a dark turn once again.

"Come now love, I'll not be having you look so melancholy…not until after I best you anyway."

Unable to stop the small smirk that danced across her lips at his fast return, she slowly faced him, shock registering quickly in her brain when she saw he was carrying a large and gleaming sword in his good hand.

"You have got to be kidding me?" She shot at him, her voice laced with both disbelief and amusement.

He grinned at her fast—curiously, the bright flash of a smile causing something warm to spread through her veins, chasing away the ominous thoughts of Henry that had been threatening to consume her.

"I'm quite serious sweetheart," he responded, casually walking towards her, confidence in his stride and a shrewd gleam in his sea-blue eyes. "I intend to prove my point…you didn't best me that day Emma…not without my help…I threw that duel."

Something inside of her knew that he was speaking the truth, but she was stubborn and she'd be damned if she'd admit it to him now. "You're a sore loser," she commented instead. Glancing down at the weapon he held in his hand, a strange thrill rippled through her at the sight, and biting her lip, she looked over his shoulder scanning the area behind him, half hoping she'd see David or Mary Margaret wandering around the ship, even while the other half dreaded it.

If she was being honest with herself, she knew that being alone with him probably wasn't the best idea. Since he had agreed to help find Henry her feelings towards him had unwillingly begun to change—both softening and intensifying all at once.

It was terrifying.

He stepped towards her slowly, interrupting her thoughts and taking his time to close the distance between them, "And you princess are the most infuriatingly stubborn woman I've ever met. I could've had you on your back with my blade to your throat within mere seconds had I truly wanted to." His voice was low and the slightly husky tone made her pulse pick up in pace, her mouth quite suddenly went dry.

"I don't believe you," she said softly. Hating the hushed tone of her voice, her eyes shot to his as he took another step towards her and then another, until their bodies were just barely brushing—the rich and spicy scent of him wrapping itself around her. "I—I beat you." she stammered, weakly.

Hook made a low humming sound in his throat at her words and she saw a glimmer of amusement flash in his eyes at her defiance. "Then shall we have another go my dear?" And before she could answer he was grabbing her wrist with his hooked hand, slowly, almost leisurely, he placed the sword he held near her fingers, gently urging her to grasp it. "Unless of course you wish not to…unless you fear I'll prove you wrong."

Her eyes narrowed at that, she knew what he was doing—calling out her competitive side. And unable to deny the blatant challenge she nodded once, wrapping her fingers around the hilt, she tried to block out the feel of his fingers intentionally brushing her wrist as she grabbed the weapon from him.

"Let's get this over with," she muttered.

Shaking off the sudden feeling of hot desire that had shockingly shot through her at his closeness, she brushed past him fast, walking away from the railing and towards the middle of the ship. Raising her weapon she pointed it in his direction, watching as a quick smile lit his features, his good hand unsheathing the sword he always kept at his belt.

"No need to rush darling, I like to take my time with these things….slow and thorough." he said the last words softly, drawing them out meaningfully.

"Do you ever just stop?" she asked with a roll of her eyes, and leveling her sword she ignored the quick lift of his brows matched with another devastatingly attractive grin, one that she was sure he had used in the past to make countless women lose their bearings and swoon.

Swoon?

And before she could linger on the out of place thought for too long he came at her fast, his moves lightning quick, pure, and calculated.

"What the hell," she gasped, raising her sword just in time to stop him from landing a cruel blow—their blades clashing together as he pushed her own uncomfortably close to her face.

"Pay attention darling, your opponent will not wait for you to say when," and with the bit of advice he backed away from her, shooting her a quick wink and another infuriating smile.

Giving herself a moment to catch her breath, her heart beating fast, adrenaline coursing through her veins, she lifted her sword again. And noting when he nodded slightly, signaling for her to come at him, she didn't hesitate, running towards him fast she swung her sword at him hard, cursing when he merely flicked his wrist casually to deflect her hasty blow.

"That was sloppy Swan," he told her, his tone holding slight rebuff.

Clenching her teeth, she raised her blade again and without hesitation swung at him hard, again and again and again—and with each swing he blocked her near effortlessly, his taunting chuckle ringing mockingly in her ears as he moved with practiced and skilled ease.

"Ready to admit it love?"

Cursing as he swiped his blade dangerously close to her nose, raising an eyebrow to let her know, had he been a true opponent she'd mostly likely be missing the body part, she continued to concentrate on their fight. "Admit what?"

"That you're a lousy swordsman and the only reason you won is because I let you."

"No." she ground out, even as her head screamed yes! –of course he had let her win, even now she could tell he was playing with her, his eyes alight with mischief, his expression relaxed.

"Stubborn lass," he murmured softly, and before she had a chance to respond, he came at her fast, delivering punishing blow after punishing blow on her sword, her arms quivering with effort as she gripped the hilt tightly with both hands, attempting to stop his swift and steady strikes.

Backing up as he continued to hit her blade with his, the cling and clang of the action echoing in the ocean breeze, she flinched when her back hit the railing. Their swords crossed over each other in front of her face, she stared up into his eyes, her chest heaving and her gaze wide and searching his.

"Yield to me Emma," he said softly, pushing both his body and sword against her, so that she was trapped, the lack of space making it hard to gain momentum, impossible for her to move.

Biting her lip at the contact, her arms wavered as her eyes involuntarily fell to his lips and then back up again. "No," she whispered.

He made a noise in his throat that sounded like it was a mixture between a laugh and a growl and pushing into her again, he merely smiled when she gasped—her back pressing almost painfully against the railing, something hot pooled low in her belly, distracting her.

She was weak.

Pressing further into her, he forced the steel within mere inches of her face. "Emma…" his voice taunted, his eyes bright and locked onto hers.

She could feel herself crumbling, the intensity of his stare too much, the strength of his body against hers too overwhelming. "No," she whispered again.

At her refusal he put more pressure on his sword, the blades sliding together—the screeching noise causing her to flinch as her eyes shot from their locked weapons to his gaze in surprised and rapid succession.

"Come now, admit that you've lost."

She shook her head slightly, her arms struggling to keep their strength as her back, still uncomfortably pressed against the railing, screamed in protest. "No."

His mouth twitched upwards at her repeated refusal and his eyes slowly dipped down to her lips, before drifting back up to her eyes again, "I've bested you."

And with those words something inside of her broke, the statement striking a chord within her, as his heated stare continued to bore into her.

He had bested her.

A lump suddenly rose in her throat and alarms bells went off in her head, even as her arms began to relax, her eyes widening slightly with the sudden realization. "Yes." she whispered.

Because he had—the moment he had agreed to help her find her son he had bested her. Hell maybe even long before that. "Yes," she said again, the word coming out clearer, more definitive.

And with the simply said statement, Hook dropped his weapon to the ground before grabbing hers from her hand and tossing it carelessly to the side without ceremony—the sound of it thumping against the ship and skidding across the planks nearly deafening. And they stood there, standing out in the open air, chests heaving from their recent battle, guards down, eyes searching.

"Emma—"

He started, his good hand reaching towards her, but she didn't allow him the chance to finish, closing the gap between them, she quite literally threw herself into his arms, pressing her lips against his in a hard nearly punishing kiss. And the ferocity with which she attacked him didn't seem to bother him in the slightest—instead, without hesitation, he caught her. Wrapping his arms around her, he welcomed her, kissing her thoroughly, deeply, taking only a brief moment to break away. Ignoring her gasp of protest, he looked down at her and flashed her a smile that was temptingly seductive and perfectly genuine—the bright grin somehow both soothing her nerves and dizzying her head.

"It's about bloody time lass."

And rolling her eyes at him, she pulled him towards her once more. His words ringing in her ears, she eagerly kissed him again, and with the act her walls slowly began to fall and her heart warmed with acceptance and the beginnings of trust.

End.

A/N:A lot of you have been curious about whether or not I'll continue these one-shots. For the most part these were all just part of a challenge that I gave myself. Write one Captain Swan Sexy Times fic everyday for an entire week. I only made it five days in a row before my brain started to short-circuit.

As of now the only one I may continue is Heatwave which is more fun and flirty than anything! :)