I reckon this wins the prize for the filthiest thing I've ever written. Pure season 1 PWP. Vaguely inspired by Adrenalize by In This Moment. Feedback is greatly appreciated!
WARNINGS: Graphic smut, rough-housing.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Once Upon A Time.
"Yeah?" Emma Swan grunts into her mobile as she walks into the station at around half nine. She's pissed; it's one of those days where anything that could possibly go wrong does go wrong.
"Miss Swan, there's something that requires your attention," the Mayor's haughty voice rings out through the tinny speaker, regal as ever. "Specifically, me," she states, sounding slightly awkward though the high-and-mighty tone remains.
Emma catches on to her meaning and shakes her head, understanding now why Regina sounds uncharacteristically uneasy – she's embarrassed to imply her need for Emma. The blonde pauses in the dim corridor – there's no one around to hear their conversation (it's far too early for that), and why bother settling down at her desk if she's going to have to leave to satisfy her Majesty's needs? "Still can't simply say you want me to come over there and fuck you?"
"Not everyone is as ineloquent as you, Sheriff," Regina jibes. She knows what Emma's doing, and she's not going to give the irritating blonde the pleasure of hearing her beg for what she desires.
Emma moves onto her next hurdle for the infuriating woman who is determined to keep her from her son. "I'm working," she says through gritted teeth. "Can't you do it yourself?" To be truthful, the Sheriff doesn't particularly mind putting off work for another hour or so – she always ensures she gets something out of these 'meetings' of theirs. She just wants to piss Regina off and work her up a bit.
It works.
Regina exhales slowly. "Need I remind you that I am the mayor and you work for me? And I'm not working today, so you will come over to my house and give me what I want," she argues, a hint of a threat hanging from her words. She is not in the mood for this today; she just wants to get her release, her hit of the woman who makes her feel something other than thick, black vengeance, and for it to be over with. It's been far too long since they last did this, and the dark haired woman absolutely loathes the fact that she needs it so bad.
"Or what?" Emma says sharply.
The Mayor ponders her options for a second. "Or I'll ensure your time with Henry is greatly diminished," she threatens, and her painted lips twist into a predatory smile. Without waiting for an answer, she stabs the button to end the call. She knows she's won, and Emma will be here any time now.
Emma glares at the lump of plastic and electronics in her tight grip, and it takes all of her strength to not throw it down the hall. Instead, she slams a palm against the brick wall and lets out an angry cry. That bitch.
The Sheriff pockets the phone and stomps back the way she came, out of the station until she reaches the Bug. She climbs in and slams the door behind her before getting the engine rumbling and hurtling down the road towards Mifflin Street, seething all the while.
Regina doesn't have to wait long before she hears an angry knock at the door, and she smirks to herself as she makes her way down to the generously-sized hall.
She barely has the door open before she's shoved up against the pale wall, hands pinned above her head and Emma's lips crashing down rough and hard on her own.
It's always like this – all that rage and hurt pouring out in a flurry of limbs and mouths against each other. They can't seem to do it any other way – neither of them want to do it any other way because that would mean something, and that just won't do. This way, it's angry, and it's hot, and it's nothing more than scratching an itch and feeling something.
"Emma–" Regina gasps when they break apart for a second, bodies still pressed together as Emma's free hand – the one that's not restraining the Mayor – roams over feminine curves. Her hands are freed when nimble fingers instead grasp the ivory fabric of Regina's shirt, and Emma pulls hard, causing several buttons to fly off and roll across the hard wood floor.
Regina is momentarily ripped from her lusty haze, and she fixes the Sheriff with an icy glare. "You're going to pay–"
"Shut up," the blonde in question growls, kissing her harder than she was before, fingers now seeking out silky, olive skin.
A throaty moan comes from red painted lips before Regina can bite it back, because Emma has pulled down the lacy cups of her exposed bra and is palming the flesh in a way that sends electricity through the Mayor's body.
The brunette's hands knot in blonde locks, pulling Emma's mouth down to her pulse point. Emma bites the skin lightly before deciding she's having none of it and pulling back, shoving violently at Regina. The Mayor's head collides with the wall with a smack and the woman winces and exhales roughly, but doesn't complain. Adrenaline builds up inside her and she laughs blackly and without humour.
Emma just watches as brown eyes darken deliciously and swirl with lust and fury. She takes in the sight of Regina, pissed off and full of desire, a complete hot mess with her shirt ripped open and bra pushed down. Shucking her own shirt, Emma lurches forward to meet the other woman and grips her hips hard enough to bruise.
Regina winds up with a leg wrapped around the Sheriff's waist and her skin-tight skirt hiked up to her hips, rolling her hips in a desperate search for friction. Her breath comes in pants, and her head has fallen back against the wall.
The blonde licks her way up the brunette's neck, finishing when she reaches the sharp line of her jaw, and the haughty woman whimpers when the spot just below her ear receives special attention.
That does it for Emma.
She slips one hand between them, and pushes damp, lacy underwear out of the way. "You want me so much, don't you?" Emma murmurs when she comes into contact with the wetness at the apex of Regina's thighs.
Regina just bites her lip. She wants this, God, does she want it, but she's not going to beg just yet. She's not that far gone.
"Don't you," Emma hisses, stilling the fingers that had been inching towards where Regina needs her most.
This time, Regina opens her eyes and glares with as much aggression as she can muster – her glare is slightly dampened by the heat pooling and curling in her abdomen, is nowhere near as cutting as it usually is, but could still send someone running. "Don't you dare stop, Miss Swan."
Emma frowns. "Tell me you want me," she persists. "Tell me you need me to touch you."
Regina huffs, realising something's going to have to give if she wants this to carry on. "Why do you think I called you here," she grumbles, looking away.
Not enough. "Say it," Emma commands.
The brunette evaluates her situation for a second, and then says almost inaudibly, "I want you."
The Sheriff's hand goes straight to the bundle of nerves, flicking at it and circling it. Regina's head falls back once more and she lets out something that's somewhere between a whimper and a cry. She's like putty in Emma's hands, and is rewarded for her weakness with yet more friction. Her hips thrust upwards desperately, and something in the back of her mind wonders how she fell so far from grace, how she ended up sleeping with the Sheriff, Emma Swan, of all people.
Before she can consider the idea further, though, two fingers push inside her, stroking the hot flesh, and the brunette loses all train of thought. Human instinct takes over, and all she can do is pursue the release she so badly needs.
Emma's name slips shakily from Regina's lips, and Regina's slender fingers clench into fists above her head. God.
Emma would be lying if she said she wasn't at all turned on by seeing the regal asshole so loose and unbound. She hated it, but there was something erotic about the situation, and the brunette wasn't an unattractive woman – anyone could see that.
Emma frees Regina's wrists to give herself a free hand to steady the brunette's trembling form. Her hand lands on rolling hips, and Regina immediately takes advantage of her freed hands, grabbing at the blonde's body in an attempt to anchor herself to something. A last stretch and flex of her fingers, and Regina's gone. Sharp pain shoots up the Sheriff's neck and down her shoulder as Regina bites down hard on the blonde's shoulder. Painted nails scrape up a toned back, leaving burning trails of angry pink, and wetness spills over Emma's fingers.
Regina swears under her breath – it sounds odd coming from her, and Emma supposes being a mother and the Mayor would cause someone to learn to filter their language – as she rides out her orgasm, eventually stilling in Emma's strong arms.
For a minute, they cling to each other – Emma holding up the trembling brunette, and Regina holding onto the Sheriff as she composes herself – and it's almost as if they're two normal people who don't hate each other, hooking up for a bit of fun. The large house is silent apart from the sounds of their breathing and the almost inaudible pitter-patter of their hearts, and their sweaty bodies seem to fit together strangely well.
However, the serenity quickly shatters as soon as Regina regains control of herself.
She almost clumsily untangles herself from the blonde, jumping away as if she's been shocked. Her face twists with fury and disgust, and the brunette quickly attempts to straighten herself up – though the shirt can't be saved, so she simply holds it shut; she's got what she wanted, and she's not about to give the blonde a show.
Head held high and shoulders low, Regina sneers at Emma. "That'll be all, Miss Swan. You can show yourself out." With that, Regina heads up the spiral staircase to wash herself clean of the traces of Emma.
Emma stares and silently fumes as she disappears upstairs without another word. When she hears the shower turn on, she bites her tongue so hard that blood wells up and leaves the mansion, slamming the door behind her.