Scarlet lips claim soft pink dominantly, before beginning a wet trail of descent down white flesh laced with the translucent blue of vulnerable veins; vital beneath the surface. Sharp white teeth close down mercilessly an inch above the narrow ridge of a delicate clavicle, increasing their sordid pressure until sweet copper spills out over a velvet tongue, causing both parties to groan.
Skilled fingers find silken folds as spilt blood is dragged hotly down the soft ripple of a sternum and sharp nails find the other's wounded throat; scratching cruelly before slim fingers enclose around that slender column with a heated sense of danger.
The speed with which the southern intrusion takes place increases ruthlessly, and taut limbs begin to tremble as kiss-swollen lips emit a harsh cry...
In the darkness of the Queen's bedroom, the blonde's eyes shoot open as she clamps a hand hastily over her mouth; the curious choked noise she makes muffled by her fingers.
What the actual fuck!?
Allowing herself a moment as she strives to still harsh breaths and the frantic beating of her heart, she blinks childishly until her surroundings merge into an indigo maze of shadow and moonlight. Twisting slowly onto her side, she studies the sleep-serene features of the darker woman's face with a frown, her eyes lingering on gently parted lips before she gives herself a mental shake and falls quietly back down into her pillow; regarding the ceiling with an expression of numb shock.
That was... I mean... That was Regina...
She is sure of it, despite the fact that she is unable to recall the dream woman's face. There had been something in the sheer power, and the obscure passion within the other woman which leaves her in no doubt.
"Oh my god..."
She whispers, slinging her arm over her eyes as she continues to try and get her thoughts under control. It's not so much the sapphic nature of the dream that has her thrown- she's lived a colourful life, and has done her fair share of experimenting- but rather the fact that it is the brunette who had played her partner.
That is some majorly messed up shit, Swan...
"Well if it wasn't for fucking Ursula..."
Quite. If it wasn't for the Sea Witch instilling such preposterous fancies into her skull, there's no way she ever would have conceived of such a scenario.
Not even subconsciously.
Never.
She nods distractedly, as if affirming such thoughts to herself as she strives to ignore the existence of the warm thrum between her legs.
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
Grumbling, she plays her fingers over the tender bruise just above her collarbone idly. She sighs, sure that there must be some form of visible mark there due to the sharp twinge created by the natural salt of her fingertips brushing over fragile flesh. Ordinarily, her first reaction upon discovering such a resultant mark would have her seething angrily- not one to advocate advertising one's sordid activities to the world- but she finds that rather than fury or embarrassment, she simply feels a dreadful awkwardness.
She is sure she blushes madly in the dark.
"Get a grip..."
She mutters, rolling irritably onto her side and shuffling as far away as possible from her oblivious bed-mate. Her mind continues to race; begging the ridiculous question of whether or not she finds the Mayor to be attractive, to be desirable, to be of interest. Such thoughts only serve to frustrate her more with their sheer ludicrousness.
Unlike Regina, she herself has never so much harbored a true dislike for the other woman, but rather a distaste for the way in which she has been treated on numerous occasions. As such, she doesn't struggle with the idea of having to face the fact she may have some form of peculiar fondness- no... not fondness, perhaps... But a liking, for sure- for the often infuriating brunette in the same way the Queen has had to deal with her increasingly positive feelings in regards to the blonde.
She owes a lot to the darker woman.
It's not just that though... She has secretly enjoyed their petty bickering during the time spent so far away from Storybrooke. True, it could be a case of such altercations acting as a simple cure for any potential homesickness- Regina's dripping disdain at the majority of her words and actions about as familiar as the deathlike shrieking of the springs of her bed back at the apartment- but she supposes the reason doesn't really matter.
She is growing to quite enjoy the Queen's company.
And it's not as though the darker woman is unattractive... No, quite the opposite.
Will you quit it! What the hell's wrong with you!? Take a mental cold shower and stop this madness before you hurt yourself!
Striving stubbornly for sleep, she angrily forbids herself from thinking on the matter any longer; refusing to allow the Witch's sick games to mess with her head.
There probably only exists a space of about five seconds between the dull knock at the door and the Sea Queen entering of the brunette's bed chambers, and the darker woman will later think that, had she not been on the verge of waking, things could have turned out very differently.
As it is, the muffled sound of Ursula's heavy fist brushing the door rouses her swiftly, possibly due to a disconcerting sense of disorientation she feels when she notices warm flesh pressed against her own. Casting a bleary glance down to her left, she frowns at the Sheriff who lies curled up neatly beside her; bare shins pressing against her thigh.
Shit
Eyes widening as her brain thankfully kicks into gear, she grabs the younger woman's shoulder roughly and shakes her, before coming to the realization that she has little time for Emma to grace the here and now with her conscious presence. Securing a better grip on slender limbs, she pushes ruthlessly, sending the blonde toppling from the bed with a cry of surprise.
"Shut up!"
It is a low hiss as the Mayor re-positions herself in the middle of the bed, but- incredibly- it works; Emma blinking back shocked tears at the sharp bite of pain emanating from her bruised tailbone as the Sea Witch enters the room.