This fic is in response to vickyvicarious tumblr prompt...

"I have this weird hankering for smut where Killian, for whatever reason (heartbreak?), is trying to make it quick and maybe a bit rough - but Emma just keeps taking her time, making it gentle, making love to him. (He can't handle it.)

I've just seen it the other way round a lot and I love it, but now I want it in reverse. So… putting that out there."

This is what I came up with...

Fire.

Everything was on fire.

She wasn't sure how they had even gotten to this point, a simple visit to his ship on her lunch break and he had shoved her up against the wall, covered her protesting mouth with his, and had stripped her of every bit of clothing before pushing her towards his bed.

And now, now his hands were everywhere, molding her body roughly as his lips and teeth attached to her skin—brushing, biting, sucking. She felt as if she were about to go up in flames, his touches bordering on too much as his body rippled over hers; pressing her into the mattress, his cock pulsing and teasing between her thighs as he muttered curses into her neck, nipping there harshly before lifting his head to stare down at her intensely. Eyes locking, she felt her breath hitch, a tiny sliver of fear worming its way into her gut as her body tensed with the sudden urge to fight and flee.

Coward, a voice hissed the word in her head, frustrated with her for, after all they'd been through, allowing him to instill any kind of fear in her; a part of her disregarding her annoyance as she took note of the storm that was brewing in his gaze—the blue flashing violent and dangerous.

Run.

And she hated herself for wanting to take the easy way out; a nearly furious whisper sounding in her head, drowning out the other panicked voices and reminding her of how he'd stuck by her side in Neverland and after—never pushing her, always giving her what she had needed until, one day, she had finally broke.

She had finally realized that it was him.

He was what she needed.

Bringing her focus back to him as he hovered over her, his hips grinding into hers and taunting her with what was to come, she felt herself relax only slightly, some of the tension draining away as she allowed herself to fall back into his unyielding stare. And studying him, searching beyond the gathering rage, for a few seconds—just the briefest of moments—she saw past the violence and the danger that lingered in his gaze as the beginnings of understanding made its way to her muddled and slightly lust-clouded mind.

Need, hurt, denial, fear…

Pain.

It was all there, shining in his vibrant and hardened stare.

Something was wrong.

And reaching for him, no longer wanting to push him away but eager to soothe and console, even as confusion and curiosity swam in her brain; she merely raised a brow when he grabbed her in one quick and fast movement. Pinning her wrists over her head with his good hand, his hook coming to a rest near her throat, he loomed over her, jerking his hips lightly so that his throbbing length teased her already wet folds.

"Don't try to resist me…I'm going to fuck you darling…I'm going to fuck you so good."

She loved when he talked during sex, when he explicitly told her what he had in store for her—his lilting and roughened voice usually making her hot and damp between her legs. And while his words brought a slight shiver to her spine, her thighs clenching involuntarily, she couldn't deny the anger that was laced in his tone—the tiniest hint of self-disgust that was carefully woven there.

"Hey." She whispered the word softly, her eyes seeking his as she flexed against his bruising grip; the way he had pinned her arms above her head more than a little uncomfortable, the sharp feel of metal against her throat still making its presence known—silently it warned her not to struggle too fervently. "Hey Killian…"

Her words were cut off as he lowered his lips to hers. Crashing his mouth down against hers, he forced his tongue into her mouth, kissing her brutally, punishingly—branding her again and again and again. She almost couldn't keep up; the way his teeth nipped at her, the way his tongue battled with hers, it nearly took her breath away, and she found herself whimpering into his lips, torn between wanting him to stop and desperately needing more.

"That's a good girl…sing for me…" he whispered the words against her hotly, raising his head only fractionally so that he could stare down at her—his still stormy eyes now darkened with raw and unmasked lust and pure unadulterated need. "I'm going to make you scream."

"Killian—"

"Hook…" his smile was slow, dangerous—the glint of white teeth flashing menacingly. "Call me Hook sweetheart…because it's a bloody pirate whose about to have his way with you."

Oh God.

Part of her just wanted to give herself over, to let herself enjoy the ride because she knew she was about to be thoroughly and well fucked. And it wasn't like they hadn't had rough sex before, it wasn't like she didn't have the bruises and lingering bite marks to prove it. But still, there was another part—a part that was in too deep, that refused to turn her emotions off, that refused to disregard her feelings, that refused to let him get away with just a quick and relentless fuck just to ease whatever inner turmoil was currently warring within him—that cried out to him, needing to heal, needing to understand.

Needing him.

"Killian look at me. Killian.…"

He didn't give her any warning.

Not really.

With the sound of his name still falling from her lips, he thrust into her in one fast and brutal movement, her eyes widening as he filled her completely, stretching her and taking her with seemingly little regard for her comfort or pleasure. His cock pushing into her, she cried out and tensed beneath him, pleasure and pain mixing together as he reared back and pulled out again—his length dragging along her walls, before pushing back in.

Deep, too deep, so, so deep.

She didn't think he could go any further.

"Scream princess…I want to hear you scream."

And oh God she was in trouble.

"Damn you." She breathed the statement, her eyes squeezing shut tight as he pulled out again only to slam back into her once more, his movements deliberate and calculated, causing a pulsing and nearly overwhelming warmth to spread through her, settling in her very core. And then, just as she was catching her breath, just as her jumbled thoughts were scrambling to come up with something, anything, to break him of whatever had taken hold of him, with a muttered curse and a long drawn out groan he set a fast and brutal pace—sparks of heat licking at her, rushing through her veins and consuming her whole.

"So wet and hot for me love." He ground the words out almost cruelly, his good hand leaving her wrists to hold himself up on the bed, her arms welcoming the release even as her body was punished only further when he shifted the angle of his thrusts. His hook moving from her throat, the sharp point leaving a reddened streak across her already flushed skin as it made it way down her body to hitch underneath her knee, he yanked her forward harshly; pushing himself deeper into her as he wrapped her leg around his waist and drove her into the bed—the mattress squeaking, the walls nearly shaking around them.

It felt good.

It hurt.

It wasn't enough.

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, somewhat tempted to shove him away, unsure if she could take the overwhelming sensations he was forcing on her even as her hips moved to meet his of their own accord, she watched as something dark flickered across his features—a somewhat sinister glare lighting his eyes.

"Going to push me away darling…can't take it? " his voice was low and velvet smooth, his actions stilling for a moment, causing a shuddering breath to flutter from her lips, a hitching moan forming in her throat. "Having the cold and ruthless Captain Hook fuck you…is it too much?" The smile that followed was wicked, the shallow thrusts he taunted her with, devastating. "They all say it…I hear the murmurs nearly daily, on the docks, near the station, in the diner…how you're too good for me." He chuckled darkly, the sound wrapping itself around her as his cock moved inside of her, no longer deep and punishing but now short and jerky thrusts. "I see the way they look at you…wondering what you're doing with a sodding fool like me…their whispers…they follow you wherever you go. The savior of the realm, the lost and beloved princess…and me…a rotten no good pirate." He stopped; his eyes suddenly meeting hers…anger so much anger glimmering in their too vibrant depths. "A bloody villain."

And there it was.

The truth, gritted out in a lilting and nearly broken voice, his words practically destroying him then and there right before her very eyes.

"Stop." She whispered the demand so softly that even she wasn't sure if it had actually left her lips, but by the way he barked out a harsh laugh, only slamming into her harder, the force of his body pushing into hers nearly stealing her breath, she knew that he had heard…he had merely chosen to ignore her. "Killian." She practically, infuriatingly, moaned his name— the way their skin was becoming slick against each other as he continued to fuck her, the sounds of his grunts and panting breaths mingling with the his muttered curses almost driving her to distraction.

Focus Swan.

He was in pain.

And a weight settled itself inside of her as she considered how long he had suffered silently, how long had he felt like this…desperate…unworthy…

So much pain.

It was eating away at him, stealing the man she trusted, the man she had fallen for…

The man she loved.

"This is why you're here isn't darling…for a good and proper fuck?" He circled his hips with the question, rotating them against her, he drew out of her and then teased himself back in. "Gods but you're a wanton thing…coming to me in the middle of the bloody day to be fucked like a dirty whore." He lowered his head, a smirk ghosting his lips when she tensed beneath him; and resting his mouth against the pulse point of her neck, he bit down hard chuckling when she yelped and pushed against him, a curse tearing itself from her throat as red warning flags waved before her eyes. "And that's what they see you as sweetheart…" trailing his lips upwards, he came to a stop near her ear, his breath, hot and wet, washing over her face. "The pirate's whore."

He was testing her.

Pushing her.

Trying to drive her away.

And she be damned if she'd let him do it now.

Not after everything they'd been through.

The Enchanted Forest, Storybrooke, Neverland, it didn't all happen so that he could push her away because he was unsure of his place, because he was suddenly feeling self-conscious and insignificant, because a couple of little shits who didn't know what the hell they were talking about had decided to put some irrelevant bug in his ear.

Oh no.

Stupid temperamental pirate.

Preparing herself as he thrust deep inside of her, pushing her past the point of pleasure and causing her to hover just short of pain, she tilted her chin up; her eyes flashing to his as he lifted his head from her neck, staring down at her with a gaze that was distant and clouded with cool unyielding fury.

It was a look she had seen few times before.

One rarely directed at her.

One she secretly feared.

"I love you." She said it quietly, her hands shifting from bracing herself against his shoulders, to sliding across his back; locking them around his neck she held him even closer, tightening her grip when he attempted to struggle, flinching as he swore, dark and violently, into her face when she refused to give. "I love you." She said it again, her hips lifting up and drawing him, if possible, even deeper inside of her. "I love you."

Amidst their heaving breaths and his harsh curses, her words rang out deafening, practically echoing throughout every quiet corner of his suddenly stifling cabin.

And as they resonated between them, as he heard them, really and truly heard them, he looked stricken for a moment—shock, awe, confusion shadowing his features and threatening to chase away his misplaced anger.

She'd said it before, she'd whispered it to him when she thought he was sleeping, murmured it quietly as he held her in his arms, said it fiercely after a heated argument. She didn't go around announcing it from the rooftops daily, but dammit he should know it by now—it really shouldn't come as such a surprise to him anymore. But every time, every damned time she said the words, it never failed, he reacted as though the wind had been knocked out of him, a look of complete bewilderment etching itself into his features.

"Sweetheart…." his voice, still rough, still dangerous, wavered around the edges, and she watched as he tensed above her, the storm in his gaze ebbing away slowly as his body stilled abruptly.

"No. No darling, no sweetheart, no princess, no savior…Emma…just Emma." she whispered it gently, her words flitting across his face as she reared her hips back to press herself into the mattress, before pushing them forward again, his length burying itself deeper inside of her—her breathing struggling to remain steady, her heart pounding against her chest, her vision burning with tears. "Just Emma…I'm just…I'm just your Emma…" Her arms locked around him tighter with the statement, and as her other leg came up to wrap around his waist, she let out a soft cry as she pulled him flush against her; before, with his name falling from her lips, she tensed her body and flipped them quickly, abruptly, noting with a dim sense of satisfaction his dazed expression—the clear and nearly comical surprise in his eyes. "And you're mine…my Killian." she murmured softly; dipping her head, her blonde hair curtained across them as her lips brushed against his. "Just my Killian." His cock still buried inside of her, she rocked herself against him, grinding down on him slowly, ignoring the pinch of pain at her hip when he brought his fingers up and dug them into her harshly, urging her to move faster. "And I don't give a rat's ass if anyone in this town says otherwise…do you understand?"

"Emma…"

"I love you Killian." And without another word, she began to ride him slowly, so achingly slow, begging him with her body to listen to her, asking him to let her show him…

To let her love him.

There was a war still going on inside of him, whatever had gotten him riled up in the first place—his own centuries instilled self-loathing, snide overheard comments— he was still struggling with the darker more brutal side of himself as he laid, sprawled out beneath her.

But she refused to give in.

Whispering words— words of love, of commitment and devotion—she lowered herself onto him again and again, her touch tender, her pace gentle and patient. Catching his curses and muttered oaths, muffling them with her lips as she kissed him softly, she refused to give in when he tried to take over the kiss, showing him, proving to him, that he couldn't, wouldn't, scare her away…not now, not ever. Pulling back, she watched through glazed and tunneled vision as he screwed his eyes shut tight, almost as if he was trying to block her out, almost as if he was trying, in earnest, to ignore her calming attentions; and biting back a gasp she stiffened when his good hand and hook dug into her again, attempting once more to get her to ride him faster—her legs caging him in as he almost weakly struggled beneath her until the fight eventually left him.

"Emma…"

"Look at me."

A heartbeat.

And then another.

And another still.

"Killian."

Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to raise his eyes, to look at her…to see her. Her teeth digging into the inside of her cheek, it was all she could do when his gaze, familiar and blue, slowly met hers. The storm clearing suddenly, abruptly, she felt a wave of relief wash over her as the tension, the stress, the pain, gradually drained from his face, and finally, finally the man replaced the pirate and Killian came back to her.

"Emma…"

"Hey."

His eyes pained and glinting with watery despair, searched hers near desperately, "Gods…I-I'm sorry."

"Don't."

Bracing one hand over his heart, spreading her fingers out over his scarred and rough skin, she reached down and grabbed his good hand from her hip; and holding it in hers she placed it over her chest—allowing him to feel her heartbeat, the way it pounded at a steady and fast pace for him…for only him. Moving over him again—disregarding his stiff and rigid posture and the apology laced confusion swimming in his eyes—a tiny whimper escaping her, she continued to make love to him, continued to show him…

He was hers just as much as she was his.

And as he began to move with her, tentatively at first—everything inside of her screaming for her to just take, for her to ride them both into oblivion, dragging him over that golden tipped edge with her—she held back, taking her time with him, continuing to whisper her love to him, knowing how much he needed to hear it and silently ashamed he hadn't been able realize and trust her feelings on his own.

It bothered her.

But now was not the time to nurse her wounded pride or dissect her own tumultuous thoughts.

Their hands crossed over their hearts, their breathing panting in time with each other, her wetness coating their thighs, she took him into her again and again and again; never once stopping the string of praises, of endearments, of love that fell from her lips, even as nearly blinding pressure began to build within her as his cock stretched and filled her—the previous ache giving way to bright and burning pleasure.

"God's Emma…"

The sound of her name, slipping past his lips in a broken and lost tone, was truly a beautiful thing.

"Come inside me Killian."

The hushed and demanding words had barely left her when she felt him surge up into her, once, twice, the quick and unexpected movement causing her to bounce and sway on top of him; his fingers, sweaty and shaking, sliding against her chest, before with a groan and a shattered oath he spilled himself inside of her; the feel of his seed pulsing into her before leaking out of her sending her over the edge with him. Sparks shooting down her skin, her vision blackening out around the edges, she rode out her climax, continuing to move even as he began to go soft inside of her, even when his voice cracked and pleaded with her, even when his fingers curled up into a fist near her breast. Lifting her head to the ceiling, her hair falling down her back, her eyes focused above her, she clenched around him tightly—the surprising burn of tears at her eyes causing her to shake her head quickly, the lump forming in her throat stifling her high-pitched cries.

She loved him.

She loved everything about him.

Every stupid and present insecurity, every dark and ugly secret from his past, every goddamned thing about him.

And she'd be damned if he ever tried to push her away again.

Never again.

And as she came down from her high, as her orgasm faded and her walls fluttered around him with the aftershocks of her pleasure, she allowed her gaze to drift to his, a small frown pulling at her features when she saw he was staring up at her—wonder, awe…disbelief…all shining in his eyes.

"I-I…did I hurt you…sweetheart…Emma…dammit I never meant…"

"I know." she said it simply, soothingly.

A tiny shrug lifting her shoulders, she never took her eyes away from him as she tried to convey to him without words that he didn't need to apologize to her…not now…not ever. It was only fair after all; he'd seen her struggle, witnessed her break, watched her push him away far too many times before. It was time for her to take care of him…time for her to return the favor. And leaning down, placing a soft nearly chaste kiss on his lips, she relaxed on top of him; lifting her hips slightly and letting him slide out of her, she curled herself up on his chest and burrowed into him so that his chin was resting on the top of her head. Pushing away the inner voices that had crept into her brain, protesting quietly, still upset with the fact that he hadn't believed in her enough to accept her love with no questions asked, she held onto him, breathing in his familiar scent as she closed her eyes somewhat sleepily.

They were going to be okay.

He was going to be okay.

She had just started to drift to sleep, hovering just short of consciousness, when she felt his lips slowly, gently, smooth over her hair, the feel of his arms finally, hesitantly, coming up to return her lazy embrace and hold her to him, bringing a smile ghosting across her lips.

Her lazy contentment was short-lived.

Awareness gradually blanketing her, the tiny smirk was quickly replaced with a slow and trembling wince—her heart clenching when something cool and wet dropped down onto her sweaty forehead, trailing a damp path across her skin and threatening to mar her there forever. And as his breathing became labored and slightly erratic and he began to shake beneath her, more wet drops falling into her hair and marking her face, she merely tightened her hold on him, an ache more painful than anything she'd ever felt before settling within her as he struggled to muffle his sudden and devastating cries.

Lifting her head, drawing her body back up over his so that she was straddling him again, her focus drifted down to his tear-stained face; his watery blue eyes practically begged her not to pity him—his spine stiffening as his good hand clenched at his side and he averted his gaze quickly. Snaking her hands out, she placed one on either side of his face, holding him in place when he tried to turn away, forcing him to look at her—his vulnerability changed nothing. And lowering herself to him, she kissed him softly, sweetly, before peppering her lips all over him—his cheeks, his nose, his eyes,—tasting the saltiness of his tears on her tongue as she ran it across her mouth, before quickly kissing him again; the sound of his low and muffled cry nearly doing her in.

A part of her had been waiting for it…the inevitable crash and burn.

He had lived for over three hundred years, had witnessed so much, had done so much, had regretted so much.

She had always figured he'd break.

And as she kissed him, bringing her lips back to his again and again and again, she told him, in a tone that held nothing but love and respect and devotion, that she would be there to pick up the shattered pieces.

Every single beautiful and damaged one of them…

End.

Review? ;)