Author's Note: I don't even know where this came from. Just strange, angsty ideas I get whilst laying in bed and reading angsty fanfics. Blame Patrick Smith, and his damn pictures. Like WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE, PATRICK SMITH? Posting all these damn scenic pictures on the chrome cast app. How do you even have time for this? Haha. I'm insane. Listen to Ed Sheeran's lovely song while reading this, if you please. (I actually only listened to the first 3minutes and 42 seconds for inspiration whilst writing this, however.)
Happy Saint Patrick's Day! Think of the sexiest Irishman we know: Colin. *smirks devilishly*
Disclaimer: I own naught but a thing. Be prepared for smut. *smirks*
Give Me Love (Like Never Before)
"Killian, I'm in love with you."
And at that moment, time stopped. The earth ceased its movements, no longer turning on its axis round and round. Everything was white noise, his vision blurred, his heart leapt into his throat.
She was in love with him.
And, suddenly, the world, which had ceased all movement naught but a moment ago, came crashing back down on him all at once. Everything he had wanted to hear for years, was now spilling out of her mouth, rushed like a waterfall, every emotion he'd never in his wildest dreams believed he'd see directed toward him pouring out of her eyes as if into a lagoon waiting below.
She loved him.
The depth of those three small words sank into him all at once, drowning his very soul, bathing him without warning in a barely contained glow of exuberant joy.
He had loved her for years, ever since he had met her. So entirely certain of her never returning his feelings, he caved in on himself, admiring her from afar and being the friend he knew she so desperately needed. And then, one fateful night that had been forever etched into his mind as both the worst and greatest moment of his miserable existence, he had called her in a drunken stupor, and she had come over, equally as drunk and vulnerable. They had fallen together, and it had been marvelous, everything he'd ever wanted. But then, in the aftermath, she'd seemingly sobered and left quickly afterwards.
It became a pattern that they'd easily fallen into, giving into their baser desires when the world had just crashed down too hard on them, and it was too painful to bear the burden alone.
He'd always loved her, and she felt something for him, too, he knew. It was just easier to fall with someone who knew your secrets, who understood you. Someone who could easily be everything that you'd never dreamed of having. But she couldn't give him more, she wasn't ready for it.
She never stayed after.
He just wanted to hold her.
He wanted everything, and he was tired of waking up alone.
He had called her tonight entirely sober, and, even though he loved her more than he ever thought possible, he'd been ready to end it. He'd been craving more, and he thought that maybe, perhaps, if he was ever going to have anything in this life, he should let her go. She so clearly couldn't give him what he wanted, and he didn't want to use her anymore. If she didn't love him, it wasn't fair of him to continue to be with her this way. It wasn't fair to love her if she didn't want it.
It wasn't fair to himself to stay in such a depraved, tempestuous, reckless relationship.
So, even if it completely broke him in the process, he had to end it.
But then she'd come in, all golden hair, and green eyes wild and untamable as the sea, and he had lost all words.
She'd paced around his living room for damn near fifteen minutes, and then, looked straight at him and abruptly burst into tears.
Before he could even begin to comfort her, she said it.
The words he'd longed to hear for so very, very long.
"Killian, I'm in love with you."
She bit her lip sharply, and, eyes wide, tears spilling down her face, she swallowed thickly, the look of a wild, frightened, caged animal on her beautiful face. She let out a broken, shocked gasp, then continued speaking.
"I've-I've always loved you, I think, and I-I... I just can't-I mean I don't...oh god." She stammered though the tears. He took a step towards her, but she immediately stepped back, holding out her hand as if to halt his movements. "No, wait, just...just let me get this out." He nodded mutely. She took a deep breath. "I can't help but love you. You've always been exactly what I've needed, and I've never thanked you for that." She hiccuped out. "You've been better to me than I deserve, and I...I think I just needed time. Because I've always known that...that I wanted you, but I-I...I can't let go of the past, I can't move forward." She looked up at him, sea-green eyes pleading with him to listen to her, to understand. "I can't give you what you want. I'm not ready, but...I can't lose you. And I needed to let you know before you decided to end this, because I know that you deserve better and you-you deserve everything, but I can't let you go and I don't want to. I love you, and I want to try and, and make this work, but I don't know how, and I've never-I've never had this before, I-I..." She choked on a sob, and then they began to wrack her body. Her knees gave out and she crumpled in on herself, breaking openly before him.
His heart wept for her. His beautiful, broken angel Swan.
He swiftly made his way over to her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. He pulled back slightly and wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb. He looked into her eyes and voice thick with emotion, said, "Emma. I have loved you for so long."
At his unwavering gaze and newfound revelation, realization dawned on her lovely face in the form of a slightly agape mouth, widening of her tear filled eyes, and the raising of her eyebrows in a loving gaze. Her gaze softened and she breathed out, "Really?"
A slow smirk grazed his face, and his expression softened tenfold with the immense love he felt for the woman before him. "I'd go to the end of the world for you." He told her honestly, sincerity leaking out of the depths of his blazing blue eyes. "And I would wait for you...for an eternity, if I had to." His lips quirk up a bit at the corners as he finishes his statement.
She let out a single, breathy, broken laugh, that wounded more like a sob than anything, and smiled (albeit tearfully) at him. It was the widest, most sincere smile he'd ever seen graze her face.
And he was the cause of it.
He's never wanted to kiss her more than in this moment.
She does it for him.
Slowly, she leans into him, until she's pressing her lips softly, but firmly to his. He brings his hand up and cups her cheek gently, pulling her towards him.
It starts out slowly, yet escalates as quickly as a blazing fire would tear through a forest.
Soon, they are passionately kissing the breath out of each other, hands gripping for purchase on each others' bodies (his in her hair, hers on his chest). He bits her bottom lip and sucks it into his own mouth, and, at that, she moans, the sound loud and delicious and wondrous to his ears. She moves to frantically pull his shirt off of his body, yet he stills her movements.
He doesn't want to rush this.
Not anymore.
He gives her a cool look, and moves to slowly unbutton her blouse. When the deed is done, he pushes it off her shoulders and latches his mouth onto her collarbone, sucking gently. She gasps, and when her hands make their way into his hair, he groans. He kisses his way up her neck, stopping to suck sharply in the certain spots he knows are sensitive to her (places he knows she likes). He licks slowly along the underside of her jaw, causing her to shudder, and when he makes his way up to nip at her earlobe, she's already trembling in his arms.
"Ah, but I've only just begun, darling." He whispers seductively into her ear.
"Shut up." She breathes out on a laugh.
She feels his grin against the skin of her neck.
He unhooked her bra with one hand, and moves the other down to flick at her right nipple. His mouth latches onto the left, tongue flicking and licking against it, working her up to the brink of oblivion, the point of no return.
But she's not ready for that quite yet.
"Killian, as much as I enjoy what you're doing right now, I need you to stop." She says as she pulls his head up from her chest by his hair, forcing him to look her in the eye. He gives her a look that can only be described as a mixture between confusion and lust and she continues. "Are you going to get in me, or what?" She arches an eyebrow, playful smirk pasted on her face.
"Oh, I fully plan on getting 'in you'-as you so delightfully put it, my dear- tonight, and soon. But darling, I intend to worship you first."
The heat of his icy blue gaze is enough to burn her alive where she stands (sits, whatever).
She takes a deep breath. "You can worship me all you like later. Now get naked." She says, with only a hint of playful irritation. At his hesitation, she cups his cheek with her palm. "Hey," she whispers and he looks into her eyes, a hint of desperation glinting in his beautiful gaze. "We have all the time in the world, right?"
She swears his answering smile is the most beautiful sight she's ever seen.
"Aye, love." He replies. "Forever."
She returns his smile softly and moves to pull off his shirt.
This time he doesn't stop her.
They relieve each other of their shoes and pants, baring themselves to each other completely, finally, both body and soul.
He kisses her, pulling her into his embrace, and she wraps her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. Slowly, he leans forward, pressing her into the floor. When she is under him, he braces himself on his arms above her and asks her once more if she is ready.
The question is simple at first glance, but it means so much more.
He's asking her if she is ready to stop running, to stay with him, to look toward the future, to, perhaps even one day, make a home with him.
He needs to know that she won't leave him. Needs to know that she won't break his heart.
He need her to know he'd never leave her, never break her heart, never hurt her.
She nods her willingness and smiles up at him, and then he is thrusting into her and it is perfect.
They make love for the first time ever in the middle of his living room floor.
He takes her with precision and delicacy. His love for her is shown in the reverence in which he has her, and hers is shown in the passionate way in which she clings to him, nails scraping down his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
He is slow, thrusting in and out, in and out for what feels like an eternity. She meets his every thrust, meeting him halfway.
It's all he's ever wanted.
When he feels her walls begin to flutter around his length, the tell-tale signs of her impending orgasm almost pulsing around him, he reaches his hand down and softly strokes her clit. She sobs out her release, and he silences her cries by pressing his lips against hers in a feverish kiss.
He rides out her orgasm and spills his release into her only moments afterwards. As his cock pulses within her, they cling to each other, panting and sweat-soaked.
She whispers her love against his neck.
He pulls back and kisses her on the forehead.
He carries her to his bedroom and makes her come undone twice more.
She's more glorious than he ever could have imagined, when she's like this and free.
He falls in love with her a little bit more.
After, they lie side by side, yet they do not face each other.
He wonders if this has changed anything at all, if she'll even stay, despite everything that has happened between them this night.
He wonders if she meant it, if this meant anything, anything at all to her.
But when she turns her head towards him, then rolls to face him, grasping his hand and kissing his palm, tucking her body into his side (causing him to exhale in relief and wrap his arms tightly around her-as if to anchor her to him), he doesn't have to wonder anymore.