Hello! Sorry I disappeared for awhile there everyone, life happened. Anyway this is a prompt fill for Val_Creative so hopefully it's somewhere close to the vicinity of being somewhat satisfying? I did my best! I hope you enjoy it.
Prompt: "Tinkerbell/Regina - (circus or carnival AU) and/or (snark, nipple play, contortionism, glass)"
DISCLAIMER I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of these characters.
The crop feels just and right in her hands, the brim of her sleek black top hat flipped so low her dark lashes kissed the material with every blink. She was the leader, the queen of this circus, and the quivering blonde beneath her was evidence of her power.
Regina grinned, a predatory action that has her prey shuddering once more. The anticipation is hot excitement crackling between them. Her doubles share the deep thrill of victory, glinting back at her from the mirrors surrounding the only tangible pair. Regina wonders minutely if this tangibility is what makes her real or if it's the power she wields. A darker time flashes in her mind briefly, a time of weakness and poverty. When her naiveté led her on a path charred with so much hurt, and violence and death that she become sculpted into the beautiful queen she was today.
This forlorn excuse for a fairy had tried to help her weaker self. Tried to keep her on the fool's path. But that, like and so many other things in Regina's life, didn't quite work out for either of them. She was not meant for the paths of kindness. These plastic feelings of kindness never came to her the way it came for the heroes, or this woman in front of her. But she would learn to live like Regina had.
And in the end she'll be better for it.
She finds something oddly satisfying about breaking someone in the hall of mirrors. They must watch as every part of them self is systematically broken down and tamed, molded into one of Regina's subjects.
The room also gives the illusion of being trapped in a pit with nothing but dozens of reflections for company. The only lights line the borders of each long mirror.
She is silent as she paces around her prey, leather gloves tightening on the handle of the riding crop. She is keen to use it and the other woman below her knows it too.
"Well?" Regina prompts, nudging the blonde with the heel of a stiletto. "Had enough already?"
Tinkerbell whimpers, whether in glee or fear isn't apparent. What is apparent however, is the micro-second of hesitation. The lash of the whip is deafening in the hall of mirrors. The angry red welt that appears on her pale skin is beautiful, like lines of splattered blood across a blanket of snow.
Her stage makeup is running in ugly rivulets down her cheeks, passed the sloppy smudges of red. Curls of dirtied gold spill over her shoulders, loose and tugged on the heat of the moment.
The stench of sweat and sex wafts off her naked body, and Regina thinks she has never looked more beautiful.