AN: Another one of my follower milestone fics. This one's got smut, angst, and fluff! Thankfully the muse cooperated :)
The idea of losing him from her life, in this reality or any reality, is one she won't accept. She's used to having people give up on her, to having people believe the worst in her, to having people abandon her. It's a feeling that she's grown up with, one that made her fear the idea of family and of love.
With Henry, she struggled in believing him and the story that he weaved. This little boy that stood on her doorstep looked at her with belief in his eyes and his hope shining forth, but more importantly, his hope and belief in her. She knows what it's like to believe in someone, but even more so, she knows how hard it is to be let down and she couldn't do that to her son. That's why she had to give him away- she didn't want to give him a life where she would let him down; she had to give him his best chance.
With her parents, she felt like the lost little girl. She knew that they never wanted to give her up and that they did everything they could, but she can't lie to herself- sometimes she wishes they fought harder, that they didn't send her to this land, but instead kept her with them so that they would face the curse together. She's still coming to terms with the fact that they were terrified of her potential to be a villain and that's why they sought help. She knows that they were just trying to protect her, but she just wants to yell back at them, that what she needs is for them to love her because protection doesn't always mean love.
With the town, she's scared of crumbling to the pressure of being the savior. She feels the burden weighing on her shoulders, the stress of fixing and saving pressing down on her, and sometimes she just wants to scream. Because she feels that nothing she will do will ever be good enough. That the first time she messes up, they will turn their back on her.
But it's different with Killian. He doesn't give up on her, no matter how hard she tries to push him away or to keep him at a distance. He keeps fighting, he keeps believing, he keeps loving her. In the beginning, she doesn't let herself believe in him, so she keeps him an arms length away. She chooses to see the worst in him, to believe that he's a villain and that he's only in this for himself. She chooses to ignore the fact that from the very first moment, he's chosen to believe in her. Behind the innuendos and the facade, he's never doubted her.
When they're climbing the beanstalk, she chooses to keep her answers short, because just being in his close presence was messing with her train of thought. His words come at her like a spark traveling down her spine and she isn't ready to deal with any of those feelings. So she keeps her mouth shut, hoping to deter him from any conversation. She should have known better that her actions would only cause the opposite. His questions, teasing in nature, are underlined by a sense of paralleled understanding. The term kindred spirits comes to mind, but what could she possibly have in common with Captain Hook?
More than you want to admit, a little voice inside her whispers. He's lived a life of love and loss, one similar to hers. He understands what it means to have a sordid past, a past that you want to forget ever existed, a pass that you carry in your heart, like an invisible scar, that's lodged deep within. He claims to be the perceptive sort, but what he really means, is that he knows when he sees another tortured soul, like his own. His walls are just as high as hers, and the banter between them is just the dance of two people who have learned far too often how cruel life can be.
She learned today how cruel life can be in possibly one of the harshest ways possible when she sees the light leave his eyes and his body becomes limp as her father stabs him. She had been existing in this reality, not living- not until Henry found her and she met Killian's gaze, for what was the first time in his eyes. The moment their eyes met, she felt her heart leap. She could feel the beating resonating from her heart grow even stronger and she found herself falling in love with him all over again as they raced around the Enchanted Forest. She knew she was a stranger to him, but even he could not deny the pull that existed between them or the palpable tension that lingered with each touch. When he speculated that in a different existence, they must have been close, she smiled because they were more than close. They were in love. They were kindred spirits.
Now that she's laying beside him in the proper reality, she can't keep her hands off of him, not wanting to lose him- from her sight or her touch for a single second. They lay facing one another, his hand holding her hip closely, gently tracing circles on her exposed skin. Her fingers slowly draw indistinguishable patterns on his cheek, as he leans into her touch. His eyes never leave hers, his love for her completely exposed by his gaze. What once would scare her, she now fully embraces and reciprocates. She only hopes that he feels the love she has for him. In between her touches, they share sweet kisses, gently pressing their lips together, holding onto one another, until one of them has to pull back for breath.
Their kisses slowly turn into passion and want, the need to feel the other overcomes both of them. It's a moment that's been building up since their first meeting. He gasps as she rolls them over so that she's on top of him, straddling him. She giggles at his awestruck expression, before she begins raining kisses down his throat. As she leaves kisses, she whispers against his skin, words of love, and she can hear him gasp beneath her. The love she has for this man- for everything that he's done for her and her family, everything that he's given up and fought for- she needs him to know that he is loved. She sits up to take off her jacket and he stops her, a blush forming as he asks for the honor to undress her. He leans forward and helps her remove her jacket and blouse, and kisses every inch of her exposed skin as it appears to him. It certainly makes the undressing process go a lot slower, but they take their time just like they have done with every part of their relationship. She should not be surprised that he's quite adept at removing her bra in one swipe and she's exposed more than she's ever been, both physically and emotionally to this man, or any man.
She tugs at his jacket, letting him know with her smile that it's his turn and he gently bows his head down, and she knows that he's thinking as you wish. She can feel how fast his heart is beating from beneath her fingers as she runs her finger over the scar directly above his heart. How terribly fitting is it that he has a physical scar by his heart, when she knows the invisible wound that lies underneath. He catches her hand and places it on his cheek, as he nuzzles his nose against hers.
He softly whispers, "Tell me a secret, love."
She knows that this moment will be the last moment before they give into each other. They both need a minute to take it all in, to remember every detail. "I knew-", she takes a breath to steady her trembling voice, "I knew this was never going to be a one-time thing."
She closes her eyes, she knows it's silly but she feels like she can feel their hearts beating in synchronicity- the hum unmistakable between them. He exhales and she feels his body shudder against hers.
"Emma," his voice softly calls out to her, causing her to open her eyes and meet his.
"It's true. I didn't want to admit it, but my heart knew. It always knew that this- this, between us was never going to be a one-time thing."
The words left her mouth, without any preamble or pretense, and his lips immediately met hers. He grins against her lips and his arms moves to pull her tighter against him. As his mouth moves against hers, she felt his fingers dance on her skin, right above the swell of her breasts. So close, so achingly close. She whimpers in protest when his lips leaves hers, causing him to grin at her. He gently lays her on the bed-her hair mussed from his wandering hands, her lips swollen from the force of his kisses, and her chest heaving from her gasps and breaths. His lips quickly replace his fingers on the swell of her breasts, gently nipping as he moved down, sucking on her nipples until she's aching for more of his touch. He pays attention to both of her breasts, and it's her who pushes him further down the bed. He gently brushes one finger between her legs and she cries out at the caress that's sparked the heat that's been pooling in her belly.
He stops and moves up to place a sweet kiss on her forehead, "Is this okay, love?"
She feels like she's incapable of speech so she nods her head furiously, and his lips trail down her face as his finger returns to her entrance, pushing inside easily, as her need for him is great. He slowly thrusts his finger in and out of her, preparing her for him, and her arms wrap around his neck as their lips crash together. His thumb presses and circles against her center, and her moans softly fill the room. She's quickly approaching the edge, so she stops his fingers. He looks nervous that he's done something wrong and she hurriedly assures him that he's done nothing wrong, but that she needs him inside of her. That they have all the time in the world, that they have the rest of their lives to explore each other's bodies, to learn how to bring the other to the brink of bliss.
She grips the waistband of his boxers, the last piece of cloth that separates them, and she tugs them off, causing him to chuckle quietly. His need for her is evident, and she grabs him and pumps up from the base to the tip, twice before she rubs her thumb over his head. There's not a sound in the room beyond the heavy breathing coming from both of them. He stops her and moves off the bed to open the drawer of the bedside table.
She stares incredulously at him as he reveals the box of condoms. "How did you know? I mean, how did you know they were in there?"
He grins deviously at her, his eyebrow raised, "I'm a pirate love, we always know where to find the treasure."
She quickly rolls it onto him, before she falls back onto the bed. His lips fuse with hers as he positions himself at her entrance. She braces herself waiting for him to push inside-it's been awhile and she knows that he's-more than respectable in size. His kisses slow down and he stares into her eyes as he joins them together for the first time. There's no pain, but rather a welcomed fullness, once he's all the way in. She wraps her legs around him, encouraging him to move, and when he finally does, their moans echo off the walls of her bedroom. She lifts her hips to meet his slow, deliberate thrusts, and she places kisses all over his jaw and neck, as she holds onto him.
"Emma," he groans as his thrusts speed up. She pushes his hair out of his eyes, wanting to see him, clearly as he makes love to her. His head leans back at her touch and she takes advantage of his distraction and tries to rolls them over so that she's on top. He quickly understands her intention and flips them over, staying inside her. She begins to move above him, enjoying the pleasure that's taken over his face, as well as how the closeness between them overcomes her. He grasps her face desperately, his groans coming from beneath her.
She cries as he thrusts into her in a certain way that causes him to go deeper, she arches her back, pressing her breasts into his hand. His blue eyes already pooled with desire, darken further as he watches the love of his life cry out with pleasure in his arms. As she presses down against him, her hands anchored against his waist, he bucks up, bringing her to her unraveling, which he follows after a few more thrusts. Her body softly shaking against his as their movements come to a close. He brings her to lay down, her head on his chest, her arms encircling his waist. In his embrace, she nuzzles his bare chest, as he runs his fingers down her back.
Their breathing is the only sound that lingers in the room, and Emma rests her head on Killian's chest. She once told him about muscle memory when she tried re-teaching him how to sword fight. But as she lays against him, she thinks that while love can be hard, it's one of the only things that can make someone feel alive. And right now, she's felt more alive than she's ever felt. Her body molds perfectly against his, as if this isn't their first time, and she thinks perhaps there's more than muscle memory between them. Perhaps this is how their story was always supposed to end up. Perhaps the dance between two tortured souls was only leading to the dance between two lovers.
AN: WHEW! Is it hot in here or what? Man, this one got away from me, but I'm sure you guys don't mind ;) Thank you for reading, lovely buttercups.