A/N: Sorry for the wait, I have been mostly working on my own/ non fanfic story which has a deadline coming up soon. Hopefully once that's all done (fingers crossed) I will have more time to update fics.
anyway, this has been a long time in coming :p Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading. Reviews would be awesome :)
"Ah!"
The blonde barks in surprise as the Queen bucks into her roughly, and she's given a brief moment to relish this forceful progression before her world goes suddenly dark.
She stills; standing frozen with her legs splayed and palms flat against the dungeon wall.
It isn't magic that causes her disorientation this time, but leather; heavy and smelling strongly of wax and iron. She breathes slowly, telling herself not to panic as the hood the darker woman has slipped over her head comes down around her shoulders, rendering her blind and partially deaf. She feels a curious mix of anger and excitement; each as strong as the other, thus leaving her unsure how to continue. She is furious at the Queen for her little trick, viewing her current predicament as humiliating and degrading. She's played around with blindfolds on a couple of occasions in the past, but this is something else entirely. This isn't some silk scarf or the damp swatch of her underwear tied lightly over her eyes, this is a power play and a test, and she knows that right now she's being forced into playing submissive for as long as she allows this exchange to continue.
A part of her wants to refuse the brunette that satisfaction. A part of her is ready to yank off the hood and come at the bitch with all that she's got.
That part is kept on its leash by the intoxicating cocktail of excitement and wanting that sits low in her gut. She might despise the wicked woman currently grabbing her hips with cruelly delicious force for what she has done and said since making her existence known, but that doesn't mean that a lot of the Queen's revelations and assumptions had been untrue. The brunette has continually accused her of wanting her- wanting this- and she is unable to deny that she does.
She wants this badly.
Because the Queen had been right; things have been strained and confusing for a long time now, and everything about the darker woman's touch and proximity feels right.
Are you really going to let her treat you like this, though?
She grits her teeth, her lips brushing against the soft inside of heavy leather, as she isn't sure of her answer. She knows that she must be casting a pretty vulnerable picture right now and that the brunette must be enjoying herself immensely. There is nothing pretty, nothing playful about the hood covering her face, but rather something altogether more perverse, and she is reminded of the way Regina had spoken to her when she'd fist come to town. Madame Mayor had made it very clear just how she'd looked down on her, showcasing a grotesque breed of pity born of disdain and disgust.
That same variety of disdain exists here, tangled up in the Queen's amusement as crass leather demotes her opponent from sparring partner to plaything.
"Bitch."
The blonde spits, and the word comes out muffled; incomprehensible to any but herself.
She considers her options as it becomes increasingly harder to breathe, before the brunette's previous teasing begins once again, only this time with explicit purpose. Her fingers blanch at the tips as she digs them into the pitted wall, swallowing a groan as the Queen first brings her hand down hard against the curve of her ass, and then digs in her nails possessively. Emma arches her back in response and loses her balance- scuffing the insides of her arms- as the brunette bucks into her once again to send her blindly clinging on to the rough surface of the rock. Sly fingers trail up the small of her back in juxtaposition to this cruel assault, tracing her pale skin gently. Finally, they meet tangled curls spilling out from beneath crude leather, and the younger woman snarls as the Queen yanks at her hair, just able to hear the low melody of her laughter.
"Do you fold, Saviour?"
The darker woman asks, speaking up, and the blonde shivers as she can feel the gentle press of the brunette's breasts against her back as the Queen leans over her; one hand snaking down her stomach to apply wonderful pressure that makes it hard to focus.
Not wanting to give the darker woman the satisfaction of trying to make herself heard, Emma stays silent. She can feel the brunette breathing heavily against her, and takes some solace in the fact that their game is clearly effecting the Queen just as deliciously as it's effecting herself.
Cruel teeth sink into her shoulder- surprising her- in response to her silent bid that they continue, before warm hands find her hips. For a moment, the brunette simply presses against her, enjoying the sordid implication as she allows two, hard thrusts. More laughter, but the grip of her hands becomes less dominant and more teacherly as she guides the blonde to stand up straight and turn around.
She bites her lip hungrily as the Saviour complies; drinking in raw grazes marring pale arms and a scuff to the younger woman's sternum from where her insinuated fucking has slammed the blonde roughly against the wall.
Pulling Emma into the centre of the room a little awkwardly as the latter still wears her pants pushed halfway down her legs, she orders loudly
"Kneel."
No sign of compliance as the younger woman remains stood with her hands down by her sides, leaving her intimately displayed.
"Kneel!"
The Queen repeats demandingly, and finally Emma does move; raising one hand and flipping her off.
"You insolent little..."
But the brunette fails to find a fitting term of resentment as her anger boils over, greatly encouraged by her lust, and she throws herself at the younger woman aggressively; wrestling her down onto the floor. She imagines this might usually be a little more difficult as she's seen enough examples of the Saviour's strength and ingrained defiance. With Emma quite literally in the dark however, the Queen is able to dominate her with relative ease; keeping the thrashing blonde pinned beneath her as she tugs the latter's leather pants further down until met with the barrier of her boots. She considers removing these also, but with previously restrictive material now acting more to aid her in controlling the younger woman rather than hindering her access, she decides to leave Emma as she is; pinned on her back and apparently livid if the painful clawing at her thigh is anything to go off.
"Enough!"
The brunette orders, but she is unsurprised when the younger woman's response is to strive even harder to draw blood. Ignoring this show of insolence in favour of moving herself into a more comfortable position, she finds that the blonde's attack swiftly falters when she once more finds slick heat and thrusts warningly. She catches a choked cry dampened by heavy leather, and repeats the action even harder. Slender thighs come up around her own in response, whether to pull her in further or in an attempt to curl up protectively the Queen neither knows nor cares.
She's vaguelly surprised in herself at her chosen course of action. She has always been one to take and demand sexually, and why shouldn't she? It strikes her as out of character that she should allow the blonde pleasure before finding it for herself, but she can't deny that watching the younger woman's reactions to her teasing- teasing? Hardly? Teasing doesn't set one's heart in one's throat. Teasing doesn't render one's limbs slick as they perspire as a result of their delicious effort. Fucking. That's what this is. Fucking- ignites its own thrilling breed of ecstasy.
And yet...
And yet old habits die hard, and as she feels Emma begin to tense and quiver beneath her, she rips away the dark shroud of the hood; drinking in flushed cheeks to which damp curls stick messily as the younger woman takes in grateful gulps of air and readies herself to go over the edge.
The Queen drinks in the crease that centres the blonde's brow as she waits expectantly- wantonly- for her release.
She drinks in blown pupils and wary green as sooty lashes open slowly in response to her slick fucking coming to an abrupt stop.
"What are you doing?!"
Emma asks breathlessly, although the vexed disbelief in her tone doesn't match the dawning comprehension that alights her eyes.
"What I want."
The Queen purrs, smiling wide as she studies the younger woman with delighted awe; relishing the state in which she has managed to get her and the war of fury and desperation battling it out across Emma's face for her perverse enjoyment.
"Regina..."
The blonde growls, before flashing her teeth as the Queen smirks at this chosen form of address. The brunette raises a knowing brow, cupping the younger woman's sex lightly as she challenges her
"I know what you want, Saviour, but I want to hear you ask for it. Beg."
And for a moment she resigns herself to the fact that if Emma complies, she might well allow her to find first release, as there is something so tantalising about her current display, but she is saved from any self-serving dilemna as the blonde glares back at her, keeping her mouth firmly shut.
"No?"
Sweet like honey, but the younger woman clenches her jaw as though her words hide a bitter sting. The brunette applies just a little more promise to her touch, but she can see that she's not going to be rewarded with an answer.
Have it your way.
"Always so defiant, dear, but where does it ever get you? Constantly stressed and alone in a thankless role. You should let go, Saviour, you clearly want to."
She allows Emma a couple of seconds to heed her words, but doesn't expect anything. When she is offered no sign of submission, she enforces it physically; once more using her power to aid her in manhandling the blonde. This time, she forces her around onto her stomach, and she swallows as she feels several waves of retaliation wash over her, but the younger woman's magic fails to take affect as her own works its wonders.
"Very nice."
She muses quietly, purposely antagonising the situation further, although this is not the only benefit to her new position, as she really does mean what she says. Leaning down over the blonde, she bites at her shoulder before nipping higher at her throat; moving against the soft round of the younger woman's backside roughly so as best to enjoy the sensation. Her previous toying and the show it has resulted in have left her close to the edge herself, and it takes no time at all before she's making her pleasure known vocally, with one hand fisting long curls and the other clutching stacked ribs with bruising force to better aid her fucking.
"I told you not to go up against me. I told you I would win."
She pants breathlessly, pulling harder on tangled curls to force the blonde into looking at her. She'd been hoping for horror and perhaps hurt, and cries of injustice, but Emma merely narrows her eyes as her teeth remain clenched. The Queen's bucking grinds her bare stomach uncomfortably against the cold grit of the floor, but she says nothing.
She says nothing as she is angry- furious- but knows that the darker woman has the upper hand here, and that anything she growls up at her will only add fuel to the fire. The brunette wants her to snap and bite back, so she won't. She's given up trying to flip the Queen off of her with her magic as it appears useless, and she's fairly sure that the darker woman is able to tell what she's attempting to do and that her failure is only furthering her pleasure. She can feel just how close the brunette is to release in the increasingly jerked way she moves against her and the trembling of her thighs. She decides to let it happen rather than continue to fight it; not counting it as a loss if she's no longer trying to win, and sordidly curious to watch the finale of the Queen's rough display.
She'll regroup once she's seen how this all plays out.
She'll come out of this the victor. Somehow.
"Oh, god..."
The brunette hisses, shaking tellingly as she moves over the blonde before tensing up with her head bowed down and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Panting harshly, she slowly brings herself back under control and gazes down at pale skin dazedly. Letting go of the hair still clutched in her fist, she pushes herself up and stands over the younger woman sprawled on the floor.
"That will teach you to be so bold."
She breathes, before frowning in surprise when Emma laughs softly. The blonde pushes herself around so that she sits upright, displaying reddened flesh stippled with nicks and grazes as several flecks of grit still cling to her body.
"Yeah?"
She asks quietly, standing up a little unsteadily and pulling tight leather back up to cover her sex.
"Yes."
The Queen snaps, although she sounds slightly uncertain; unsure why the Saviour seems unfazed by her recent ordeal, or why she injects her voice with such a hatefully goading tone.
"I don't know about that-"
Emma shakes her head.
"-The way I see it, you won the prize, but you definitely didn't win the game. You demanded your way like a child, and I gave it to you."
"You had no option! I beat you!"
The Queen insists angrily, and the blonde disagrees calmly
"No. I had no option to push you off, true, but that's really the end to your power. I could have folded. I could have taken off that ridiculous hood. I could have begged. I did none of those things, because when I play, Your Majesty, I play hard. You didn't win; I let you. Just like playing a game of cards with Henry."
"You're lying."
"Am I?"
Emma grins, revelling in the cagey frustration the Queen exhibits. It is a game she has played with Regina off and on since they met, and she is unsurprised that it works just as well on the brunette's fairytale counterpart. Regina can be demanding and she has a way about her that commands obedience. She has confidence and poise and uses both to get her way... What she doesn't have is much experience in having these qualities questioned. Emma had learnt that early on, as while the brunette might usually be able to get what she wants, she sometimes falters when the two of them spar. Regina relies on sultry orders and silken threats, and she has grown accustomed to having them nervously obeyed. She has a tendency to lose her cool when faced with the blonde's sarcasm and almost offensive lack of understanding of her position. Emma's way of challenging her while sounding infuriatingly bored over the inconvenience of having to do so rarely fails to rile her up, and this moment is no different.
"You're... You..."
The darker woman struggles to find an insult befitting of her current irritation, and Emma squares up to her defiantly.
"I am not so easily beat, Your Highness, and the sooner you learn that lesson, the better."
Dark eyes flash in response, before the brunette takes a step back in surprise; the younger woman shrouding herself in a plume of smoke as she takes her leave of the dungeon, leaving her opponent stood bare with her fists angrily clenched.
"We'll just see about that..."
"That's what I meant about the basement door."
Regina gestures towards the damage as she closes Emma's front door behind herself and Lily and slips the blonde's keys back into her pocket.
"She kicked it in."
Lily muses, yet she still seems unusually calm to the Mayor who frowns and points out uneasily
"Possibly, I mean it does look that way, but why?"
"Emma does that."
Lily shrugs, turning away from the splintered wood and padding down the hall towards the kitchen.
"Not without a reason she doesn't!"
Regina insists, following her infuriating companion into the shadows of the blonde's kitchen and watching as the younger woman helps herself to a beer from the fridge. Lily catches the accusatory scowl this action garners her, and she pulls out a second can which she holds out to the Mayor with a roll of her eyes.
"Here."
"I don't want that! I didn't bring you here to raid Miss Swan's liquor supply, I brought you here because a woman you claim is your friend appears to be missing under curious circumstances."
"She is my friend."
Lily snaps back, taking a long drink from the can in her hand before making her way back out into the hall and up the stairs.
"Well, you're not acting that way!"
Regina retorts, entering the blonde's bedroom at Lily's heels.
"The windows are shut."
The younger woman observes, and the Mayor glances over at dark glass visible between a gap in the curtains.
"...Is that not normal?"
She asks, and Lily shakes her head, toeing at some of Emma's laundry on the floor.
"No? Maybe? I don't know when Hook was last here, but I've never known Emma to close the windows, especially if sharing the room with a guy; they smell."
Lily shrugs, and Regina considers this curiously; something oddly infantile about this assessment, yet she can picture a younger version of the blonde imparting this fact to her friend with no trouble at all. It seems exactly the sort of wisdom she'd expect from Emma, and she looks around the room curiously before walking into the bathroom in search of further clues.
"Weren't you two fairly young when you hung out together?"
She asks over her shoulder, wondering when the afformentioned topic might have come up.
"Young, but hardly innocent-"
Lily calls back, causing the brunette to frown, before she adds on
"-But I don't think she meant it that way. She was in the system, who knows how many temporary brothers that landed her with."
This explanation strikes Regina as altogether more paleateble, although she still doesn't find the image it creates all too pleasing. Stalking back into the blonde's bedroom, she heads over to the window to open it.
"There's a couple of towels on the floor in there, and they're damp. That's on top of the ones that are hanging up on the rail. That seems excessive."
"So? If you think a messy bathroom is suspicious, you clearly don't know Emma."
"I-"
"-Maybe that's for the best!"
Lily interrupts with a low chuckle, and the brunette turns to face her with a frown.
"What's funny about this? What-"
But Lily answers her question by stepping aside so that she can see what dangles from the blonde's headboard.
"Oh."
She offers in a small, prim voice, promptly looking away from the empty handcuffs with a flare of deep scarlet colouring her cheeks.
"Well, you wanted to know what Emma'd been up to!"
Lily giggles, falling down onto the blonde's bed with a gleeful smirk.
"Yes, well... I meant where she might have disappeared off to, not... That."
Regina snaps back, biting back an angry retort as Lily breathes beneath her breath
"Chill out, shit..."
Gathering herself, the Mayor walks over to the bed and stands looking down at her companion with her hands on her hips.
"Handcuffs don't explain the fact that Emma's missing."
She states simply.
"Maybe not... I still don't get why you're so convinced that she's in trouble though, she might just have decided to take off for a couple of days."
"No."
"No? How'd you figure 'no'?"
"We share a child. If Miss Swan had decided to take off, she would have told me. She also wouldn't do something like that when we still don't know the intricacies of the ship crashed in the forest."
"Oh, please, like she's that reliable."
"She is to me."
Regina snaps, and Lily glares up at her as she plays with her hair, the rest of which fans out over the blonde's pillow as she remains sprawled on the bed.
"You seem so sure that she's come to some kind of harm..."
"I'm not sure about anything, but I'd like to discount that theory at least."
"Mmm... Maybe. Maybe that's true... Or maybe you know something more about all this than you're letting on."
"I... What?! What would I possibly know?! I'm the one trying to get to the bottom of all this!"
"So you claim. I'm just saying that maybe it's a ruse..."
"... Why on earth would I do that?"
Regina demands in disbelief, and she watches as Lily pushes herself up to check the blonde's closet before peeking in the bathroom for herself. She's agitated at the younger woman's accusations, but the coldness she feels projected towards herself seems disconcertingly genuine, and she takes up a perch on Emma's bed and waits for Lily to come back into view.
"What did you mean earlier?"
"Huh?"
"When you implied that Emma might have reason to be angry with me. What did you mean by that?"
"... Are you serious?"