A random Wicked Swan/Wicked Saviour one shot I submitted to someone on tumblr months ago. I finally got around to editing it a bit and posting here.
Disclaimer: I don't own. Just bored and having some fun...
Rumple, Glinda. They haven't gotten it quite right," Zelena insists. "Their understanding is flawed. Too black and white… or evil and good, rather. Tainted by their own misguided self-perceptions. Magic itself is nuanced. Not inherently dark or light at all. Not really."
"Emma can't concentrate. Distracted by the other woman's tongue curling against teeth before sliding over full lips. It looks almost like an invitation.
"I will show you, Darling…" she says. Emma should be concerned by the Wicked Witch's mischievous smile; her ability to make such an odd promise sound like a warning, a threat. But how can Emma be concerned when the subtle cadence of Zelena's tone sends sinfully pleasant chills down her spine?
Zelena's words feel like earth, she decides. Like the dark moss that creeps up trees, a guide to lost travelers. But Emma isn't lost. Right? She shakes the idle thoughts away.
"Magic is simply a manifestation of will. Not pure or tainted by its design, but instead by its intent." The words wrap around Emma suggestively, seemingly creating a magic of their own. Her body feels warm, but the words provide the perfect chill of a soft breeze. She feels heavy, but the words make her light. Maybe if she just let's go of her troubling thoughts she'll float away. Zelena's arms look inviting. She is dimly aware that they have wrapped around her waist, but only because she vaguely recognizes a feeling of being anchored.
Safe. Secure. Zelena feels like tall grass blowing gently in the wind.
"Magic is not dark because its bearer is evil, but because its bearer wields it with the intent to harm. Likewise, light magic is merely the product of good intention." A hand is blazing a trail of searing heat across taught muscle.
As Zelena's hand gently cups Emma's bare breast, the Savior briefly wonders about her now missing shirt and whether the Witch's hair is the auburn fire burning through the forest canopies shading her mind.
"Do you understand?" Emma nods, but her grasp of the words, their meaning, is mostly lost. Zelena's touch is burning into her skin.
"Will you let me show you, Savior?" One hand teases a hard nipple, the other barely grazes the aching space between Emma's thighs. Where had all of her clothes gone? The Savior decides she is content to wrap herself in the pale green mist curling around her sinuously.
"Your cuff?" An inquiry. The only coherent words Emma has managed since this conversation began.
"Zelena's hands briefly pause their ministrations as she glances at the cuff on her left wrist, meant to bind her magic. A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. Her hands resume.
"This is your magic, not mine. Your desires are in control. I am only a guide." Zelena's hand once again pauses as she reaches the beginning of soft blonde curls, moisture glistening directly below. "Emma. Let me show you."
Her name passing Zelena's lips is fresh water to her parched soul. She can only nod helplessly. At the granted permission, Zelena's fingers brush through the short curls to meet liquid heat. They dip low to gather the wetness before returning to softly massage Emma's stiff bundle of nerves.
Emma is flowing down a river of pleasure, eclipsed on both sides by a lush forest; trees of green in every shade and hue. Her only comprehension of time passing is limited to her crescendos of pleasure; the waterfalls of her release. Zelena orders her to count them aloud. Emma counts each one like a blessing, until the sixth sends her into the black void where space and time cease to exist.
Emma is certain it couldn't have lasted more than a few moments. She only really recognizes the passage of time at all because she was sure Zelena's head had just been nestled between her still trembling thighs, but now the Witch's lips are firmly attached to the slight curve just below her ear. The Savior inhales in labored gasps and exhales in ragged pants. She weakly tries to remove Zelena's hand from its place between her legs, but fails in her attempt. Her body is overstimulated. Her senses are a jumbled mess. Zelena is stroking firmly within her. The motion feels like a heartbeat. It sounds like a chant.
The buzzing in her ears dims enough for her to realize the chanting is actually coming from Zelena's lips. With each brush of lips against Emma's sensitive earlobe a powerful shudder works its way through her body, surging to her core, creating an indescribable pressure. Seven. Zelena is demanding Emma's body give a seventh and final release. The Savior is certain neither her mind, nor her body can comply with the Witch's command. But Zelena does not relent.
"It's how I will show you. It's how you will see." Zelena's teeth firmly clamp against Emma's erractic pulse as she curls the fingers inside her.
And Emma… Emma suddenly understands. Seven is a magical number.
Her final climax courses through her veins and rushes over every pleasurable nerve. Fireworks are exploding before her eyes in brilliant emeralds and vibrant jades. Bright neons and soft pastels. The universe wraps around her like a blanket and for long blissful moments, Emma's awareness is limited solely to the lingering pleasure that feels vaguely kelly green.
She doesn't notice as Zelena slowly withdraws from her body. Her fingers being chased by heavy whisps of light green magic. It curls around her fingers before sinking into her skin, only to appear as a green glow chasing the paths of the Witch's veins. Holding the Savior securely in her arms, Zelena feels content.
For now.
Questions, comments, criticisms, concerns, unabashed groveling, pleas for mercy, or anything else for the good of the cause can be dropped in an ask or submission over on my tumblr (url: defineyourterms). Reviews/feedback always welcome.