Author's Note: This is a Christmas gift for ReginaTheCat, originally posted on ArchiveOfOurOwn yesterday morning. The second and final chapter will (hopefully) be posted by New Years. Merry (Belated) Christmas to my readers, and Happy Chanukah!
They were married in the snow, a white gown dragging across the ice, Emma waiting for her bride in the middle of the frozen lake, the force of her giddy smile causing her stretched cheeks to burn red hot. The trees were dead; silent corpses swaying in the wind, lining the edges of the oval mirror the crowd was balanced upon, their distorted reflections shivering beneath the smooth, frosted surface. The moonlight stroked raven tresses and blonde curls, the latter tumbling over the savior's strong shoulders, crowned with a gentle braid her mother had woven earlier that night, when the sun was just sinking and the moon was edging through powder white clouds, hanging suspended in the black ocean sky washing over the small town.
"This is so crazy," Emma's breathy laugh was released in a burst of steam puffing out of her lungs, and the entire party laughed, watching how the happiness visibly swelled inside their beloved princess at their former tormentor's approach.
Kissing their son on the cheek, Regina unfurled her hand from his arm, and moved forward to join the savior in the middle of the frozen lake, magic preventing the heels of her white boots from shattering the ice beneath the flowing dress. The additional inches allowed her to gaze evenly upon her bride, her own lips quirking at the way a giddiness seemed to overtake the younger woman.
"Hey," Emma grinned at her, jewel flecks in her eyes causing them to sparkle, lifting up her hands, palms raised upwards, and beaming so bright when only the briefest hesitation passed before Regina was lowering her own bare palms right on top.
A rush of warmth went through them both, like fire licking a warpath through their bloodstream. "Hey," Regina whispered back, relaxed and feeling… okay about what they were about to do. This was already better than her first wedding; Emma was looking at her, couldn't stop looking at her, was drinking in all the colors and contours of her face, and it was more than a little bit flattering.
Regina squeezed the savior's hands, bestowing affection because she knew it would make her bride smile. These little things that were unasked of her were so easy to give when it was Emma. It felt like scraping bark off a tree; it didn't hurt her, though she was still sharply aware she was losing something.
Recently ordained through the wonders of the internet, Archibald Hopper stood before them, clearing his throat and waiting for both the shivering audience to stop their tittering and for Emma to get a grip on herself, squeezing Regina's hands back and looking like she was choking on an effort not to break down in giggles.
An indulgent smile softened the brunette's face, stiffened cheeks pinched by the cold. "Give her a moment," She drawled and everyone laughed again, enjoying the sheriff's lack of composure.
"Sorry, sorry!" Emma struggled to breathe, hunched over a little and laughing again, prompting everyone else to keep laughing, the dark woods echoing with the sound, the savior's happiness bouncing across the frozen lake and through it all, Regina held on and patiently waited, silently marvelling at how excited the woman was to marry her.
Finally, when the snowflakes began to fall, and Leroy loudly speculated they'd be buried in it if the princess didn't get her act together, Emma took a deep breath and fully straightened up, only a couple more shaky giggles escaping her.
"Ready?" Regina squeezed her hands again, watching how it made the pleasure wash over her bride's cheeks again.
At the savior's nod, Archie cleared his throat, and the audience fell quiet, a hush sweeping across the lake. Even the birds knew not to utter a sound, in reverence to their queen and her daughter. "We are gathered here today…"
During the short speech, her mind wandered, and when it was time for them to exchange their vows, Regina watched flushed pink lips move without registering any of the sounds, taking her cue from the lack of movement that it was her turn to recite. Muscle memory formed the syllables and pushed them out, each word causing more and more happiness to swell up inside the savior.
"I love you," She heard herself say, the truth pushing through the buzzing in her ears, and abruptly she was tearing up, knowing the agony she was condemning Emma to, and too selfish and too stupidly hopeful to tear herself away.
The savior teetered forward a little, looking like she wanted nothing more than to take Regina in her arms and kiss her until the winter thawed and spring bloomed, the ice cracking open and warm water sucking them deep below the surface, but Archie emitted a warning cough and the blonde sheepishly straightened up again, superstitious enough to follow the rules of the wedding in an effort not to jinx their marriage.
"Do you, Emma - "
"Yes."
Archie frowned at her. "I'm not finished. Do you, Emma Swan, take Regina Mi - "
"Yes!"
"Emma, please." He sighed, beginning again. "Do you take Regina Mills to be your lawfully wedded wife? To - "
"Ye - oh, sorry."
"To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" He blinked up from his book when only an uncertain silence greeted him, Emma nibbling on her bottom lip, looking at him while Regina looked at her, still teary eyed but with growing amusement lighting up her dark features. "You may speak now."
"I do!" Emma turned back to her bride, smiling wide, brimming with love and adoration. "I definitely do."
"So, is that a yes, then?" Regina teased her, voice low, and bit down on her quick smile when Emma mouthed asshole at her, eyes growing impossibly brighter.
Their son moved forward with the first ring, offering it to Emma who picked it up, handling it with nervous care. She'd made Henry rehearse with her every day for the past week, paranoid she'd fumble the ring and be forced to watch it bounce on the ice, skidding away from them. The practice paid off, she watched with pride as it slid onto the elegant finger, gold snugly wrapped around her wife.
Regina masked her discomfort with a smile, feeling the metal brand her skin and clamp down on the bone. She recited the same words without any stumbling, murmuring I Do and sliding the second ring onto her bride's finger, dark eyes flicking up, looking for any of the same hints of anxiety Emma might feel about being legally owned by another person, but the woman was as happy as a stray puppy who'd been scooped up out of the cold and brought inside a kind stranger's warm home, collared and reassured that they belonged to someone forever.
"You may now ki - oh, okay." Archie coughed again amidst the cheer that erupted from the audience as their savior surged forward and grabbed a mildly startled Regina in a deep kiss, dipping the brunette until a tumble of raven silk brushed against the glassy surface of their frosted stage.
"Show off," She mumbled against her wife's lips, the world tilted on its axis, her arms instinctively wrapped around the back of the savior's neck, peeking up at Emma from beneath long, black lashes.
Emma grinned, intoxicated by the laughter surging around them, and the beauty wrapped up in her arms. "You know you love it."
Unable to disagree, she closed her eyes fully and beckoned another kiss with soft lips, sighing sweetly into the embrace, the blood rushing to her head the longer Emma held her dipped. The world spun and a gentle darkness cradled her mind, whisking her away.
By the stroke of midnight, the entire procession had ended up at Granny's Diner for the wedding party. Completely checked out from the music and the conversation which made the building vibrate, people swaying to the melody of the jukebox, Regina snuggled into her wife's side and kissed away the affectionate snorts Emma gave her, the sheriff teasing how sleepy she looked as they cuddled in one of the back booths.
"You taste like cake," Regina mumbled, licking off some chocolate frosting from the corner of her wife's lips.
"I woulda guessed pie." August chortled in passing, ducking the crumpled up napkin Emma tossed at him, her cheeks looking as if some child had scribbled on them with a crimson crayon, her body physically incapable of handling this much happiness.
Burying her face in the savior's neck, sucking on the sensitive pulse beating wildly beneath her questing tongue and soft lips, Regina lifted her legs until they were balanced on her wife's knees, body fully curled into the booth and away from the rest of the party. Breath hitching from pleasure, Emma quickly gave up asking if her wife wanted to dance, mildly embarrassed that they were basically canoodling in public but this was the one night she was nothing but overly pleased and proud to have the whole world witness how much she was loved and cherished by the most beautiful, complicated woman in the world, and possibly in every realm.
Gagging, their son quickly changed his mind about hanging out with his moms on their special night, and the entire diner chortled in amusement but refrained from interrupting, turning to enjoy the party for themselves, diving into the wedding cake, and cheering at various, spontaneous toasts fueled by an unlimited supply of alcohol.
"Emma?"
The savior smiled down at her love, their noses brushing one another, one hand settled on the mayor's warm thigh, squeezing it beneath the table. "Yeah?"
"Take me to bed."
A sudden poof of white smoke engulfed them both, and everyone but Henry and his grandparents erupted into laughter once more, the royal family split between gagging and scowling at the lack of manners.
They didn't go far.
Granny had arranged a honeymoon suite for them in the top floor of the inn, and the two of them emerged in the thick of christmas; the fireplace was crackling, peppermint scented flames combatting the natural fragrance of the wreaths hanging on the walls, jerusalem cherries resting on every wooden surface, and the mistletoe dangling over the threshold of the bedroom. The music from the diner floated upwards, providing a base vibration that caused the floor beneath the savior's feet to tremble.
Holding her bride, however, made Emma feel steady in a way she'd never felt before, strong arms cradling a queen wrapped in white silk. The playful smirks on both their faces began to soften the longer they gazed at one another, the queen's dark features cast even further into shadow, while the savior's face glowed with happiness, each line and curve illuminated by the fire. Caressing the nape of her bride's neck, Regina teased patterns with her nails until Emma was compelled to duck down and kiss her sweet and slow beneath the dangling mistletoe, and the brunette remained unaware they were moving until she was tilting back and falling onto the soft blankets, cradled by the pillows and rose petals scattered on the bedding, her quiet gasp swiftly muffled by the press of her wife's body settling on top of her.
"My dress - "
"Leave it on."
The material bunched up around her hips, and the knots in her stomach abruptly tightened in mingled anxiousness and excitement as a rough, white hand grasped her inner thigh. Her first time had been a night similar to this one; the scent of pine, frost coating the glass window, a good person with kind eyes which crinkled in the corner, the way his daughter's did and her daughter, and that daughter's precious son. Regina released a tiny little moan when Emma began to knead her flesh through the white stockings, massaging her way up until she reached the apex of her prize, and it felt really nice, even as the queen squirmed nervously beneath the questing, clumsy fingers of her new husband, his ragged breath on her ear advising her to stay still.
Be good, he kissed the tears on her cheeks, wisps of his beard scratching her face like blisters hatching in her pores and the world began to simmer, sweat building on her body and running like rivulets across the surface of her skin as he mounted her.
When Emma kissed her, it was like being tugged to the surface, the hot iron chains wrapped around her lower body attached to an anchor partially buried in the bottom of a boiling ocean. She was being ripped apart, but she didn't protest Emma saving her even though it hurt worse than drowning in these memories. She clung to the savior and chuckled when the fabric of her stockings were easily torn at the crotch, allowing her eager bride easy access to white bikini panties. "I'm so wet for you," She promised, hot breath caressing the curve of her wife's ear, sucking the lobe of flesh into her mouth, tongue swirling around it and drawing it deeper the way she knew excited Emma just enough that she'd be distracted by the subtle magic Regina was forced to perform, ensuring her entrance would be well lubricated, a handy charm she'd picked up late in her disastrous first marriage.
Emma sighed into her mouth upon discovering the evidence of her wife's claim, nudging the panties aside and gently sinking a single finger inside, waiting for the tight muscles to adjust to her intrusion before slowly crooking it upwards. "Love you so much…" Her words unknowingly breached the oppressive grunts and groans of her grandfather's vocalized pleasure, tears springing from the queen's eyes as he rutted inside her ill prepared body. Regina reached up to push him away, but when she made contact with his shoulders it was only Emma, whose bright eyes materialized in the soft glow of the christmas suite, and whose unsteady breathing was converted into a soft stream of affection and quiet vows.
"I love you," Regina whispered back, closing her eyes when Emma buried her mouth again, a natural arousal flushing her chest when the savior took her tongue captive and proceeded to suck on the tip like it was candy, undulating her hips when a second finger was added inside her, a scissoring gesture stretching her out and making her pussy weep. "Em-mah!" Gradually, they began to sink deeper into a slightly faster rhythm, tendrils of golden hair coming undone until it was raining sunshine curls, glowing with unnatural brightness, caught in the fireplace glow, blinding Regina even though her eyes were closed, orange light filtered through her lids and washing across her mind.
With one hand buried beneath the silk skirts, moving with slowly rising urgency, fingers stroking the collapsing walls, struggling to keep moving despite the increasingly smaller space to allow such freedom, Emma ravaged her bride's mouth with hungry moans and a fierce sense of entitlement that said mine now which Regina found simultaneously thrilling and uncomfortably familiar, but she ignored the sharp tugs beckoning her back beneath the ocean. If she had to belong to somebody, be owned by anybody, this was the woman she would choose.
The peppermint flames glowed brighter, washing across the room, like they were submerged beneath an orange ocean, drowning the queen's devastated sobbing and Regina's keening cry of pleasure as her spine arched off the bed, wrapped around the savior's fingers which were extracted a few minutes later, thoroughly soaked. "Good girl," She murmured, pupils fully dilated with lust as she watched her bride fall apart, and, completely spent, Regina nevertheless smiled through her tears up at the woman she loved, pretending like the compliment hadn't just torn through her chest and shredded the edges of her heart.
While the brunette disappeared inside the adjoining bathroom for several minutes, Emma wandered around the room as she distractedly loosened her tie and unbuttoned her dress shirt, peering closer at the ornaments decorating the impressive tree in the corner, the base littered with wedding gifts that the guests had brought. Instead of a star or an angel, the very top of the tree featured figurines of the two brides carved and painted by Marco; the blonde in a perfectly tailored suit that matched the one she was currently in the process of shedding, and the brunette decked in white.
The door to the bathroom creaked open, a strip of artificial light briefly causing the bedroom shadows to scatter, and Emma dragged her eyes from one brunette to the other, breath catching in her throat.
"You look…" The rest of her vocabulary was inaccessible, train of thought coming to a screeching halt as the former queen posed in the doorway, scarlet lips curled into a smirk.
Evidently succumbing to the holiday spirit, the brunette had swapped her dress for a wine red basque with white trimming, a matching santa hat topping the messy sweep of raven tresses which didn't quite reach her shoulders. Instead of underwear, protecting her modesty was a cherry red cock bobbing slightly, green leather straps keeping it held suspended between the mayor's thighs.
"Merry Christmas," She murmured, mocha chocolate eyes flooding with some mirth when Emma burst into sudden laughter, the thick tension in the air, which only one of them could feel, lessening considerably.
Sinking onto the edge of the mattress, Regina clicked her tongue in disagreement when Emma continued to take off her clothes or tried to join her on the bed. Taking the hint, keeping her untidy suit on, Emma grinned and sank to her knees before the former queen, hands slapped away when she tried to settle them on her wife's thighs. Planting her palms on the floor, she leaned forward until her lips were brushing the cherry tip. Slowly parting them, the bright red head was gradually accommodated, pushing deeper inside her mouth, cushioned by a built-up of saliva and cradled by her swirling tongue. Moaning as if she'd been granted her greatest treasure, Emma raised her gaze until she could peek up at Regina from beneath her honey brown lashes.
Tangling her fingers in golden curls, the mayor guided her bride further and further down until the cock was bumping against the back of the savior's throat and thoroughly lubricated with saliva. Regina lightly scratched Emma's scalp with her nails, tremors of pleasure skirting down the slope of the savior's skull and the length of her spine. When her bride's nose nudged teasingly against her stomach, dark eyes met the stormy ocean gaze, and Regina relented, lessening the pressure and allowing Emma to rise to the surface again, gasping for breath.
"Keep the tie on," Regina's command was a little hoarse, as was the savior's raw chuckle, jaw succumbing to a slight ache.
Unbuckling her belt and tugging down her trousers, left in nothing but her black thong, unbuttoned white dress shirt flapping open and allowing a generous view of her cleavage encased by a black push up bra, and a loosened tie which the mayor immediately grasped ahold of, Emma clambered onto her wife's lap, the lips of her soaked entrance brushing enticingly against the cherry red cock. "You're ridiculous," She murmured, another smile cracking across her face at the santa hat, the furry bauble at the end dipping low.
"I am not, it's Christmas."
"It's our wedding night, and you're dressed as Santa."
"Because it's Christmas, Miss Swan, and I'm nothing if not a traditionalist."
"Right," Emma laughed, throat thickening with arousal as she continued gently grinding on the cherry appendage, the curve of her bottom sliding against the smooth plain of her wife's thighs. "Because this whole night just screams tradition."
"You're the one who'll be screaming." The low declaration was abruptly punctuated by the former queen's hands coming to rest on the pale hips and force them down, watching the red cock disappear inside the enveloping white thighs, the air singing with the savior's pleasured caroling.
It began to snow again, a fresh coat of white painting the streets of the small town one of them had created and the other had freed, and which they now ruled together, a little kingdom tucked away in a corner of Maine. The glass windows of their honeymoon suite frosted over so completely that the town disappeared, leaving just them.
Regina planted her lips on the pale column of her bride's throat, tasting the vibrations of every little whimper the younger woman made, grazing sharp white teeth along the flesh until she found the spot that made the savior's toes curl, and sank her teeth in, sucking with vicious determination. She dug her nails into the savior's flushed bottom, relishing the hiss of pained pleasure it provoked, Emma continuing to bounce and grind on her lap, then dragged her nails up the length of her back, until her fingers came into contact with deliciously soft curls, bunching them in her hands as she continued her brutal assault with tongue and teeth, marking her territory.
This was better, this was so much better, being the one in control and practically untouched, even as she got to bring pleasure to the woman she loved. The gentle fall of snow had turned into a blinding white storm, powdery flakes giving way to ice pellets which frequently tapped on the glass, but neither woman paid it any mind.
Leaving fresh scars on the savior's strong back, Regina slid a single finger inside the younger woman's pussy, wincing just a little as it got caught between the bouncing, clenched muscles and stubborn cock, withdrawing with arousal coating her skin from the very tip to the knuckle. One hand clenched on her bride's left cheek, dragging it further away from its twin, just enough to allow a slim opening, she slid her finger between the parting, and lightly pressed against the unexplored entrance.
"Don't even think about it." Emma growled, cheeks flushing bright red, matching the color of the cock that was making sparks fly across her vision. Her bottom clenched around the finger flirting with the idea of pushing inside her, accidentally giving mixed signals.
"Just the tip." The brunette haggled, pressing a little harder, the flat of her fingertip starting to sink inside.
"I will literally murder you."
"I think you kinda want me to, but don't want me to know how much you want to."
"I'm sorry, is it also tradition to drive your bride to commit homicide on Christmas?"
Regina chuckled, warm breath caressing a dusky pink nipple. "Your safeword is moist - use it, and I'll leave you alone."
"Regina," The savior groaned, their argument doing nothing to curtail her pleasure. "You know I hate that word."
"Are you going to use it?"
"I'm not saying that word."
"Last chance, dear."
"You're insufferable!"
Mesmerized by the sight of her bride's bouncing bosoms practically catapulting themselves into her face, the former queen leaned forward and captured an erect nipple with a sweep of her tongue, moaning around the milk white flesh spilling into her mouth. Emma wrapped her arms tighter around the back of her wife's neck, pulling their bodies flush together, partially in attempt to keep close and partially being chased by the finger dancing around her entrance, skirting the last remaining evidence of chastity, pressing in such a way that actually felt about as good as Emma felt nervous about it being bad.
"Just the tip," She gasped, clenching around the cherry red cock, shockwaves of pleasure rippling through her body and disturbing the electrical wires linking her brain to common sense, and the former queen immediately took advantage.
The snowstorm raged against the glass, a howling wind slowly gaining on the town and attempting to creep into cracks in the inn. The silver white flashes illuminated the room, and Regina pushed her finger all the way into her husband's granddaughter, making her squeal, the pain thankfully lessened as she came around the cock a second later, a hot eruption in her lower tummy seeping out between her thighs as she sagged onto the mayor's lap, still caught around the older woman's finger.
"Did you mean to do that?" Emma asked her about an hour later, the two of them stripped of all clothing and cuddling beneath the blankets, the savior resting on her stomach with Regina's enchanted hand resting on her bottom, emitting a faint blue glow, acting in lieu of an ice pack.
"I'm so sorry," She murmured in response, rubbing soothing circles with her hand, relieved to hear her bride chuckle.
"I don't really mind, it felt nice overall."
"You're never as mad at me as you should be."
"Are you trying to make me mad?" Emma turned her cheek a little, messy strands of hair partially obscuring her vision of her wife.
"I just never quite understood… how forgiving you can be of me."
"Regina, I love you."
"That's a whole nother mystery to untangle."
Emma smiled, snugly curled beneath the blankets and nestled into her pillow, tucked into her wife's side, the soothing hand lulling her into darkness. "I'll tell you all the reasons I love you in the morning, too sleepy to soothe your ego right now."
"Ha ha."
"Tell me you love me so I can go to sleep."
"I love you," The words were easy, slipping through the parting of her wife's lips, making Emma flush with pleasure every single time.
Snuggling closer, Emma tucked her head beneath the queen's chin, a little bit sore but thoroughly satisfied, kissing her wife's collarbone. "I'm so happy," She mumbled into the crook of her wife's neck. "Are you happy?"
Yawning, the brunette echoed her bride's sleepy sentiment, squeezing her bottom affectionately and keeping her hand resting there as she drifted off. Consequently, she missed the way her savior stiffened up, and rose up a little on the bed, gazing down at her through the darkness, brow furrowed in uncertainty and concern, internal lie detector pinging like crazy, a worried frown grazing her face.