It started right after Liam - little nagging whispers that pushed him to do terrible terrible things. As the years passed the voices quieted down a bit, not because he was fighting them off, but rather because he needed very little prompting to do their bidding.
When he met her, it all changed. For the first time in centuries, he wanted to do the right thing - and with something (someone) to fight for, he found himself winning the war.
He'd defeated the darkness in himself once before - but it had been a long and bloody battle (and frankly - he'd resigned himself to the fact that the struggle would never be over). He never imagined it would come back like this.
After he was cursed, the demons in his head came back in full force shockingly quickly. They clawed at his mind as if desperate to take root in him once more. They tainted his instincts - his first action to lash out in seething anger at the woman he loved.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Killian yelped at the pain he'd inflicted with those cutting words - but it was drowned out by the throat-searing venom dripping from his lips.
But the worst of the voices showed up after he left her house - storming out and stomping his way straight to the deck of the Jolly Roger. The familiar sway of the ship on the water was his only anchor as he tried to find his footing in the array of new sensations. That's when he heard it - the most unsettling voice so far.
"Well isn't this quite the twist, pirate?"
The Crocodile's high-pitched voice rang tinny in his ears - grating somehow worse than ever before, like it was impossibly closer - reverberating in his own jawbone.
He took a deep breath and reminded himself that Swan had mentioned this - the apparition of former dark ones goading her on. He turned and glared at him - eying him warily before deciding to go about tidying up the ship and ignore him.
For several hours the crocodile followed him around, taunting him at every turn. His blood boiled with the fact that he couldn't get rid of him and he finally snapped.
"Bloody hell, leave me alone!" He shouted into the cold night air - hot curls of vicious anger swirling with the puff of his breath into the inky black sky.
"Killian, please." Even with his back turned and her voice sharp at the edges in the way the darkness had changed it - there was no question who it was.
"Emma-" he wasn't even upset with her anymore - just distraught, frantic, his mind feeling like it was unraveling in front of him. He brought his hand up to his temple and winced while he tugged at his hair - as if pulling would rip the imp from his brain.
When he spoke again his voice was weak - cracking. "I can't. I can't get him out. He's my worst enemy and I can't get him out."
Her heart broke at the desperation in his voice - the frantic way his eyes darted around when he finally looked up at her.
"Shhh. Killian," she stepped toward him, placing a hand on tenderly on his chest. "Do you remember what you told me in Camelot?"
He screwed his eyes shut - trying to focus on the sound of her voice over Rumplestiltskin's ("Camelot - where she turned you into this despite the fact that you explicity begged her not to").
"A lot happened in Camelot, Emma." There was a fire behind his eyes now - and she remembered what it felt like at the beginning, always being keyed up - on the verge of losing control all the time.
She dragged her finger along the v of his button-up shirt as she spoke. "Well, when I was first… dealing with all this. You helped me by getting my heart racing. "
She bit her lip and let her hands slip further down his chest - reveling at the way she felt him gasp at the movement.
"So," she continued seductively. "Wanna do some plundering?"
He gulped at the implication - surprised at how quickly the fire in his veins turned into heady arousal. Maybe it was the darkness in him (more willing to take what it wanted than he'd allowed himself to be in ages) but he couldn't help but grip her hip and pull her lips to his in a searing kiss.
She brought her hands up to the lapels of his peacoat and he groaned at the increase in pressure - pushing his tongue to tangle with hers in a frenzied dance of passion.
They broke apart for a moment, both panting with the building intensity between them. His gaze darkened further as he pushed toward her again, his forward steps matching her backward ones until she unwittingly reached the ladder down to the captain's quarters.
She gasped when her foot didn't find purchase and she felt herself starting to tumble backward until suddenly his arm was behind her - steadying her. He eased her down the ladder - but once at the bottom - the tenderness gave way to reckless want.
He brought his hand up to cradle her head - suddenly missing the way his hand used to tangle in the loose waves of her golden hair. He harshly pulled her hair from it's tight bun, exposing the elegant column of her porcelain neck.
He bit a possesive mark into her tender skin as he slid his hand down to squeeze the pert curve of her ass. She squeaked a little in surprise.
"There's my pirate."
He growled as he buried his face into the soft leather covering her chest - pulling at the jacket to discard it.
"So that's it, is it?" His voice was low and rough - accent just a little thicker than usual. "You want the Captain?"
The way the title rolled from his tongue sent warmth and wetness pooling between her thighs.
"Honestly?" She teased, slipping her boots off as she snaked her hands up his chest and over to his shoulders - urging him to shuck off his coat. "I've wanted the Captain ever since that night at the tavern."
She brought her hands back down to cup his erection through his painfully tight jeans and he jolted at the sudden pressure where he needed her most.
"Seven hells, lass."
Emma smirked, enjoying all too much the effect she was having on him as she slowly peeled each layer of clothing from him until he was standing gloriously naked in front of her - his toned form awash in the silky glow of the moonlight, the silver of his hook glinting as he moved toward her.
"You're overdressed," he stated matter of factly, drinking in the sight of her in clingy leather pants and a skin-tight black tank top that left little to the imagination. But even that little bit was too much.
Before she could protest he'd brought the tip of his hook to the thin garment, pulling downward - the fabric puckering before a ripping sound filled the cabin.
Her breath hitched at the way the cool metal dragged down between her breasts, but he didn't stop there. He flipped the hook around so the pointed end was facing himself, and he inched the curved edge down her stomach and toward her hip.
When he reached the waistline of her pants he flipped the hook over again, catching the smooth leather on the sharp tip and drawing a steady line down the front of her leg, before doing the same on the other side - leaving the material in a tattered heap by the time he was done.
"That's more like it." He muttered under his breath - the sight of her creamy skin on display in front of him nearly doing him in.
He straightened back up - his erection bobbing at the movement, and Emma licked her lips in anticipation.
His mouth curled into a wicked smile - and in one swift movement he caught her wrist and forced her around, grinding his hips into her still panty-clad ass.
She jutted her hips out just a little bit and he groaned at the increase in pressure - pulling his good hand around to grope her chest, the soft delicate lace the perfect contrast to his work-worn calloused hands.
With a flick of his wrist the hook dispatched the bra and panties - leaving her gloriously bare before him. She had to admit - something about the danger of the metal appendage got her so incredibly turned on. Well, that and the way he was sucking and biting at her collarbone.
With her chest now free for his hand to roam, his nimble fingers quickly finding her stiff nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger.
"Oh God, that feels good," she moaned, all the while continuing to rock her hips back into him.
"Don't I know it." She could practically hear him smiling behind her as he pressed his insistent need into her ass. "What about this?" He traced his hand along her hip down to her aching core, his chest lined up along her back, while his palm pressed into her sensitive bundle of nerves - fingers dragging through her soaked folds.
She keened at the circular motion of his hand, a familiar tug low in her belly as he wound her up tighter.
He groaned at the way she kept leaning into his chest, her head thrown back wantonly - it was incredible to feel her writhing against him, but he desperately wanted more. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see them.
If only he had a - with a puff of smoke and a wooshing sound that caught them both off guard, a full-length mirror edged in ornately carved wood appeared in front of them. The reflection of their naked bodies writhing into each other shamelessly.
"Did you..." His brow furrowed in confusion. For a moment he wondered how she knew that's what he was thinking about - what he wanted. She shook her head and in a flash he understood it was his magic, not hers, that brought the mirror to them.
Well this could be fun, he mused momentarily.
His eyes roamed her unabashedly, appreciating her long slender legs, the gentle curve of her hip, her trim waist and taught stomach, her bouncing breasts, the long column of her throat, her mouth hung open in mewls of pleasure, the emerald of her eyes reduced to a thin ring around her darkened pupils blown wide with need.
"Killian, please" she breathed out. "Need you."
He smirked at her desperation and put his hand on her back to lean her forward just a touch - enough to cause her ass to stick out just a little bit more. He lined himself up at her entrance and slammed into her without warning - a cry of pleasure tearing from her throat at the intrusion.
He quickly set a brutal pace, leaning into her ear to whisper in between thrusts, "Is this - ugh - what you wanted?"
The lilt in his voice and the steady snapping of his hips - cock heavily dragging along her walls, probing deeply, made it impossible for her to respond in anything other than moans. She felt incredible around him, and his breathing sped up at the overwhelming bliss.
He continued driving into her relentlessly, using each thrust to mark her as his own. He brought his hook around toward her hip, dragging it down between her legs. He pressed the blunt end of the cool metal to her throbbing clit, rubbing lightly as she cried out.
The sensation sent her careening over the edge, her legs shaking as she clenched around him - the tension making him stretch her even more deliciously with every deep thrust.
"Gods above you're glorious when you cum" he muttered hotly in her ear. He was seconds away himself, the sight of her openly savoring the delirium of a mind-blowing orgasm as he took her from behind finally doing him in. He thrust another once, twice - three times before letting out a sharp yelp as he forcefully shot his release into her, pulsing uncontrollably as his face contorted in exquisite agony.
Her legs gave out a little under her, and he held her up with his good arm - not quite ready to leave the sight of the exhausted, sated woman in his arms.
They were both still panting with the exertion, but between breaths she asked "What do you see?"
He snickered. "A goddess who was thoroughly ravaged by a devastatingly handsome pirate."
She smiled. "And what don't you see?"
Killian's eyes snapped up to hers in realization before darting around the room.
"The crocodile." He sighed in relief.
"Told you it would work."
"Aye, Swan." He helped her make her way to the bed, laying her down with all the tenderness of Killian Jones before a wily smile worked back up to his lips. "In fact, I think I see the Crocodile now. Care to distract me again?"