Author Note: This story will feature an MDlg relationship.

Emma lays in her bed, head buried under a pillow as she blindly fumbles around on the nightstand trying to find her alarm clock to stop the incessantly loud beeping. Finally managing to find the object of her disdain, she groans as she smacks the off button. She rolls onto her side removing the pillow from her head and winces as the morning sun shines into her eyes. Why the hell is her alarm going off? She glances at the clock in a sleep-filled haze which reads 7:00 A.M.

"It's too early," she grumbles to herself. She rolls over to go back to sleep but the alarm on her cell phone begins to go off. It blares at a deafening volume. It plays one of her favorite songs, but currently, she wants to throw the device out the window. She does the math problems to shut it up and glances at it closer. The alarm reads 'First day of junior year.' "Right." She grumbles again and drags herself out of bed to get ready for her classes. She slides her socked feet on the wood floors as she makes her way straight into the kitchen.

Emma starts a pot of coffee before returning to her room to gather clothes and a towel. Her eyes are still barely open as she slides her way back out, past the kitchen, and into the bathroom. She places her items on the bathroom sink and turns on the water as she steps into the shower, "Fuck that's cold!" She chastises herself. She should really remember to warm the water up first, but then again, the cold water helps her wake up. After showering and drying off she dresses in a pair of red boy shorts and skinny jeans that hug her ass and hips in all the right places. As she's pulling on her white sports bra she knocks the cup that holds toothbrushes and toothpaste over into the sink. She rolls her eyes at herself. "Ever the clutz," she thinks. Since it is still quite hot and humid outside she decides on a white tank top and her red leather jacket to finish her outfit. She figures the jacket will come in handy inside the air-conditioned college. She decides to let her golden locks air dry and simply rakes a brush through them. If she drives with the windows open her hair will dry in no time.

With a bit more perk and awareness of her surroundings, Emma walks back to the kitchen where she fills her to-go cup with coffee. She pours the remainder into a small thermos, a yawn escaping her as she secures the lid. She takes a sip from her cup and hums. "My only friend." she jokes. She skips the short distance to the couch and retrieves her red converse shoes from under the coffee table. Once she's tied them securely she walks back to the kitchen, fetches her coffee and keys from the counter before turning to head for the door. She slips her keys into her pocket and bends down to grab her previously prepared bag on the way out. She decides to take the stairs to help wake herself a bit more. Once she's outside the lobby doors she smiles at her yellow VW bug. It's old and a little beat up, but she loves that car. When she reaches it she tosses her bag on the passenger seat and slides into the driver's seat as she closes the door. She places her cup in the cup holder and her thermos next to her bag. She fishes her keys out of her pocket and starts the car. She is off to her first day of junior year at Emerson College.

Regina Mills stands in her classroom staring at all the empty desks. She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Please let there be one worthwhile writer in this year's bunch," she mumbles to herself.

She looks at the clock which reads 8:30 A.M. Her first class will be filing in the next 30 minutes and while she loves her job, she rarely comes across any promising students. Everyone seems to lack true imagination anymore. Beyond that, no one seems to be able to grasp emotion and put it onto paper. There is a serious lack of pathos in the writing of today's younger generation.

Regina takes another sip of her caramel coffee and sits at her desk tidying the syllabus handouts for today's classes. "Just one promising writer, please." If she has to go through another entire year of mundane, emotionless papers she just might scream.

Emma finally finds a parking spot four blocks away from the college and mentally kicks herself. She knows she needs to head out earlier if she wants to get a better spot, but here she is. She pockets her keys and grabs her bag. She refills her coffee and tosses the thermos back onto the seat. She sips from her cup and begins her walk, shrugging her jacket off. Although it is early in the morning, it is still the middle of August and already nearly 70 degrees out. She doesn't want to smell like she'd just run a marathon before she even gets into the main building of the school. Her phone vibrates and she pulls it out of her back pocket. There is a message from her friend Belle.

Hey girl. Creative Writing starts in 7 minutes, where are you?

"Shit!" She says out loud. Emma sprints the two-block distance to the towering building never slowing as she heads up the stairs to the second floor. She skids to a stop in front of her creative writing classroom to catch her breath. She is bent over with her hands on her knees and after a minute she stands up straight. She is about to take a step forward but the woman standing in front of her stops her in her tracks. She is gazing at Emma with concern.

Her shoulder-length brunette, nearing black hair looks like silk and contrasts with her tan skin beautifully. She's wearing a sheer silk blouse, the crimson color matching her painted lips perfectly. The top two buttons have been left open, and though this shows nothing, her black lacy bra can be seen with as hard as Emma is staring. Atop her blouse is a black open blazer, drawing her eyes to the tight gray pencil skirt that hugs her hips deliciously. As Emma's eyes travel farther down she is met with toned tan legs set inside black stiletto heels that make Emma's stomach flip.

"Something wrong?" the woman asks after the blonde hasn't moved or spoken for quite some time.

As her eyes move back to the woman's face Emma is captivated by how natural her smokey eye makeup looks and how it makes her brown eyes pop.

"No." Emma shakes her head and smiles shyly. "Sorry I was just catching my breath. I had to run a few blocks; I didn't want to be late."

Regina nods, "Mmm, yes, you wouldn't want to make a bad impression on the professor the first day. I heard she's something of an 'Evil Queen'." Regina then chuckles at her own joke and Emma swears she knows what an angel's song sounds like.

"Right." The blonde nods. "So, are you in this class too?"

"Yes, I am in fact."

"Cool." Emma beams at the woman before her. She sticks out her hand "I'm Emma Swan."

Regina smiles at the blonde and takes her hand. The brunette's skin feels even silkier than it looks. Her hand is so warm Emma never wants to let go. Emma's breath hitches. Oh god she hopes she caught it fast enough. Even if she didn't, Regina's mocha eyes never give it away as she simply continues to smile and shake Emma's hand, "I'm Regina Mills."

Emma nods and is about to walk into the classroom when the realization strikes her. Her eyes widen as she remembers her schedule from her email. Emma attempts to hide her sudden surprise as she ever so shyly slips into the classroom and takes a seat.

When the clock strikes 9:00 A.M. Regina closes the classroom door. Her heels echo on the tile floor as she crosses to the podium in the front of the class. Emma can't take her eyes off the sway of her hips and notices her skirt hugs her ass even more delectably. "Good morning class. My name is Regina Mills. I will be your Creative Writing professor for this semester. You may call me Miss Mills or Professor Mills."

Emma squeezes her thighs together tightly. The husky silkiness of her professor's voice mixed with her incredible beauty is quickly ruining her boy shorts. "Holy hell," she thinks to herself, "how am I going to be able to concentrate on this course with this woman as my professor?"

"Miss Swan," Emma hears her name and jumps.

"Hmm?" is her only reply.

"Really Miss Swan. It is barely five minutes into the first day of class. Are you daydreaming already?"

Emma's eyes lock onto the mocha irises of her professor. "No m..m..ma'am." she stutters. "I'm sorry, I'm just not completely awake yet." The blonde offers.

"Perhaps you should drink some of your coffee then dear," the older woman nods toward the blonde's cup.

Emma nods, apologizing once more.

"As I was saying," the brunette goes on, "I will hand out the syllabus and you will read over it. There will be a short quiz after. I do not see the sense in wasting my breath when you can simply read and comprehend it yourself. Once you have finished the quiz, I want you to write a short story; one to two pages about a dream of yours."

Emma sighs to herself. Yep, this is going to be hell. At least until she gets her libido under control. With another sip from her coffee Emma begins to read over the syllabus. No cheating, no plagiarism, fail or expelled, blah, blah, blah. It is all the same as every other class. Emma finishes reading and quickly answers the 10 multiple-choice questions.

She walks her quiz up to the podium where Professor Mills has said to place them and then back to her seat. "A dream of mine," the blonde muses to herself, as she grabs a notebook from her bag and places it on the desk, tapping her pencil lightly on the paper. She is deep in thought when she hears the sound of someone clearing their throat. She looks up to see her professor's eyes staring directly at her once more, then down at her tapping pencil. "Sorry." Emma blushes and sets the pencil down.

Emma smirks to herself. "This is a creative writing class after all, and she didn't specify what kind of dream," she thinks. And so, Emma sets out writing her paper. The words flow freely as she writes a fantasy set to one of her favorite songs melded to the images held in her mind of her professor. She is just about finished when she hears Professor Mills announce that the class is free to go and should hand their stories to her. As the other students file out Emma sits, still writing. She just needs two more minutes.

"Ahem," Professor Mills clears her throat. "Did you hear me, dear?"

"Yes." Emma nods, never looking up from her paper. "I just have two more sentences to write."

"Alright then." The brunette acknowledges.

Emma finishes writing the last two sentences and heads toward Professor Mills' desk. The brunette looks up and holds out a hand for the blonde's paper. Emma hands it over with a cheeky smile and begins to walk to the door.

"Have a good day Miss Swan." the brunette calls behind her.

"You too Professor Mills." Emma turns to grin at the older woman before walking out of the room.

When she enters the hall Emma finds herself in the grip of her friend Belle.

"Hey, I was waiting. What held you up?"

"I just had to finish writing a couple of sentences in my story." the blonde shrugs.

"Cool," the shorter brunette beside her says. "So you wanna grab some lunch before our next class?"

"That sounds good. I didn't have breakfast this morning." Emma's stomach then makes a loud rumbling sound as if to back up what she has just said and Belle laughs at her.

"How about we head down the block to Granny's and bug Ruby?"

The blonde smirks at this. "Sounds like a good plan," she says, and she and her friend head down the stairs arm in arm.

Regina sits in her now empty classroom. She has read through most of the stories as she eats her lunch. Her head is starting to hurt, and she is finding herself becoming easily bored with the emotionless papers. "I dream of being …" blah blah blah. All stoic words, and no emotion. She picks up the next paper from her desk reading the name at the top. Emma Swan. "Well then Miss Swan, let's see what you have for me," the professor says to herself with a small smile and a sigh, hoping for anything new. And new is exactly what she gets when she begins to read the words on the page.

She smiled up at her lover with warm, trusting eyes. Her hands were bound above her head with velvet ropes and secured to the headboard. She watched as her lover slowly placed feather-light kisses down her abdomen. She struggled slightly wanting to wrap her fingers in her love's hair. She moaned softly as the heat between her thighs increased with every kiss. Her lover's hands teased her sides, tracing slowly down her hips which rose slightly as she gasped.

"Please, I need to feel you." Her plea was sweet but desperate. The only response was a moan from her lover's throat. Their hands now tracing lightly over her thighs, from outside to in. Their lips were mere inches from her hot aching core. Her lover blew a small puff of air on her exposed clit. She raised her hips trying desperately to find any contact.

"Now, now. Patience." the only words her lover spoke before using the tip of their tongue to tease the bundle of nerves. She moaned louder, pleading, "Please …" her pleas cut short as her lover dove into her.

Regina sets the paper down, unable to finish reading. "What the …" her thought goes unfinished as she blinks. The brunette quirks a brow. She had asked her students to write about a dream of theirs. She looks up in contemplation, and then with hope realizes that perhaps, finally, she has a student who was actually meant for a creative writing class. She chuckles to herself, and with that hope, makes note to talk to Miss Swan about her paper. What she isn't sure about right now, is what she is supposed to do about the heat literally pooling in her underwear. She could feel, see, and hear every bit of the writing she's just read, and it left her wanting to ACTUALLY feel it. She sighs to herself. "At least my headache subsided," she says aloud to herself. She gazes at the clock groaning at the fact that there are only five minutes before her next class. Definitely not enough time to relieve the ache between her legs. She stands, adjusting her panties and skirt and makes her way back to her classroom. "Perhaps I'll finish Miss Swan's story later," she thinks "in a nice hot bath with a glass of wine."

"Hey bitches!"

Emma and Belle look up to see Ruby grinning at them from across the small diner.

"Be there in a sec," she says as she finishes putting in an order.

Ruby practically skips over to her friends and drops into the booth next to Belle.

"So, how was the first day back?" she asks with a wide grin.

"Great!" Belle chimes in all smiles as she gives the taller woman a kiss on the cheek.

"It was, okay." Emma groans.

"Aw, what's up?" the two across from her ask simultaneously.

"Nothing. I just … I hope that what I did for the writing assignment won't get me in trouble." The blonde chuckles to herself remembering what she'd decided to do.

Belle looks at her in confusion. "All we had to do was write about our dream job Ems."

Emma laughs out loud now. "Actually, we had to write about a dream of ours. And that is exactly what I did. But …" she trails off.

"But?" Ruby furrows her brow at her friend as she asks.

"Well, I may have taken a daydream and turned it into a damn near short erotica." The blonde blushes and laughs at herself.

Belle gasps and Ruby just laughs so loud that half the diner turns to stare at them.

"Emma, you didn't!" Belle finally speaks.

"What? She said to write about a dream we had. She never said write about the job we want."

Belle thinks for a minute and then looks at her blonde friend with self-disappointment written on her face. "Dammit," she says frowning, "I think I might need to be a bit more creative."

"Oh, come on Belle, we don't even know that she'll like 'out-of-the-box' thinking. You know how English Professors like their boxes." Emma says with a sigh hoping that her writing at least won't get her into trouble for the content.

"Order up!" Ruby had disappeared without either noticing and returned with a grilled cheese sandwich and cheese fries for Emma and a chicken salad french dressing on the side for Belle.

"But we didn't …"

Ruby is quick to interrupt, "You order the same thing every lunch period," she says before rolling her eyes and kissing Belle's cheek.

The three sit and laugh, enjoying some playful banter as the two friends eat their lunches.

"What is your other class today?" Belle inquires.

Emma rolls her eyes, "Copy editing."

Belle and Ruby scrunch their noses.

"Yeah. I just had to pick publishing for a minor." Emma sighs.

"Well, at least it's not a hard class." Belle offers.

"True, but still boring as hell."

"Any plans after classes?" Ruby asks.

"Sleep. I went to bed kind of late last night. Forgot to set an alarm before farming primals."

"You and your damn MMOs." Ruby reaches across the table and pokes her blonde friend's shoulder playfully.

"Bite me." The blonde says with a smile as she stands up to leave. "I gotta get back and get to class. I hear Mr. Gold is a real crocodile."

She grabs her bag from under the table and throws her jacket over her arm, leaving her two friends there, and walks across the diner and back out into the afternoon heat. The humidity immediately saturates her skin as she makes the short walk back to the college.

Emma huffs as she drops her bag by the door of her apartment. Her car doesn't have air-conditioning, making the 20-minute drive home daunting. Even with her windows down to circulate air through the vehicle, she was drenched in sweat.

"Hey! How were classes?" Her roommate Elsa pokes her head up from the book she's reading on the couch.

"Creative Writing was fine. Copy Editing was sooooooo damn boring."

She drags her feet as she walks and plops on the couch next to Elsa who giggles at her and sets her book down.

"Want to tell me about it?"

Emma is about to respond when her phone dings with an email notification. It's from Professor Mills.

"Shit." Emma winces as she opens the message.

Good afternoon Miss Swan,

I would like to speak to you about your writing assignment. Please meet me in my office tomorrow at 11:15 A.M.

Regards,

Professor Mills

"Fuck." Emma drops her phone on the table and falls into her roommate's lap.

"Something wrong?" Elsa asks as she combs her fingers through her best friend's hair.

"I don't know. Our professor asked us to write about a dream we had, and I decided to write about a rather erotic daydream. Now she wants me to meet her at her office tomorrow." Emma smirks cheekily up at her friend.

Elsa laughs and just shakes her head. "I see. Well, I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Wanna farm some more loot tonight? I'll pay for pizza."

Elsa smiles softly at her friend; she could see the slightly stressed expression on her face. "Okay but set an alarm now. You'll never remember later. And take a shower."

Emma picks up her phone and sets the alarm for midnight.

"I'll order the pizza," Elsa says as she gets up to go to her room.

"I'll take a quick shower," Emma responds, heading to her own before making her way back to the bathroom.

Emma answers the door when the pizza arrives so that she can pay and drops Elsa's off in her room taking hers with her. They are just queuing up for another round when Emma's alarm sounds at midnight.

"Just one more run," She types out trying to get Elsa to play a bit longer.

"You have an appointment in the morning," The lighter blonde sends as a response.

"But Elllsssaaa," Emma whines across the apartment.

Elsa laughs and makes her way to Emma's bedroom. She pokes her head in the open door.

"Bed now," she says as seriously as she can with Emma looking at her with her bottom lip in full pout mode and big green puppy dog eyes.

"Fine." Emma huffs as she logs out and shuts down her laptop.

"Good girl," Elsa says as she follows Emma to her bed. Once Emma is in bed Elsa pulls the covers up over her and kisses her forehead. "Sweet dreams, little swan."

Emma knocks on Professor Mills' office door.

"Come in."

Emma slowly opens the door. Her hands are sweating and her throat suddenly feels very dry. "Why did I think writing that story was a good idea," she asks herself.

"You wanted to see me?" Emma asks barely above a whisper with her eyes downcast.

"Yes. I wanted to speak to you about the story you wrote yesterday." Her professor says. Her red-painted lips curl into an amused smirk when she takes in the sight of her student.

"I'm sorry if it's not what you …" she is cut off by the brunette.

"It was quite imaginative. I said to write about a dream you had. Is this a dream you have?"

The blonde can feel her cheeks turn pink. "It was a daydream I had once, yes," she says, finally gathering the courage to look at her professor.

"Mmmhmmm," Regina purrs as she licks her lips.

Emma can't help but stare. Oh gods what she wouldn't give to be those lips.

"I am rather pleased with your story Miss Swan. In fact," the brunette says, standing from her chair and walking toward the blonde, "would you join me in my classroom please?"

Emma nods but purses her lips tightly too afraid that the moan that has formed in her throat will escape if she parts her lips in the slightest.

Regina sits behind her desk pulling out Emma's story. "I noticed you use she and their as your pronouns. Why is that Miss Swan?"

"Well, I." The blonde fumbles over the words she wants to say in her brain. "The 'she' was me in the daydream. The 'they/their', a person that does not exist."

"Do you not have a preference, Miss Swan?"

Emma blinks. She isn't sure how to answer that question, or even that she should answer it.

"I … I do, yes."

"You do not have to tell me, Miss Swan." The professor states simply. "I was only curious."

She then stands from her desk and walks a few feet across the room.

"Is it hot in here, Miss Swan?"

"A little." The blonde says swallowing hard again.

"Would you mind if I made myself more comfortable?" the brunette inquires with a quirked brow.

"Not at all."

Regina lets her blazer fall to the floor at her feet. But then, as Emma watches, Professor Mills begins to unbutton her shirt, slowly, as she watches the blonde's every reaction. Emma fidgets from one foot to the other eyes darting to the floor.

"Am I making you uncomfortable dear?"

"No, I … I just," Emma can't even finish the sentence.

When she looks up again, Professor Mills is somehow suddenly stark naked.

The blonde stands stock still, her emerald eyes gazing upon the beauty in front of her. Professor Mills, Regina Mills stands before her wearing nothing but a smirk.

"Something wrong Miss Swan?"

"What? … Uh, no, nothing at all." She swallows hard trying to keep her tone even.

Emma looks around the classroom. How in the hell has she gotten here? How has she found herself in this situation? She begins to fidget again; she isn't uncomfortable, she is just very self-conscious. She had daydreamed of this very scenario the day before, but never actually thought she would find herself in it. She tries desperately to find anywhere else to look, but nothing can hold her attention for long because there in front of her is her very naked professor. The most gorgeous creature to ever walk the earth. Her caramel skin is so inviting. Emma sighs. A soft chuckle pulls her from her thoughts.

"Am I making you uncomfortable dear?" Professor Mills asks again with a small salacious smile.

Emma gasps … "Be cool Swan," she tells herself.

"No, I just, uh … I just."

Regina laughs, the sound like music to Emma's ears. "Did you think I hadn't noticed how you look at me?"

"I, uh." Emma blushes, her face turning as red as the shirt Professor Mills has discarded on the floor. "I'm sorry," Emma mumbles, her embarrassment creeping to tint the entirety of her neck and chest.

"Mmm, no need to be sorry dear. I rather enjoy it."

Emma's eyes widen, and all rational thought is lost. Did … had Professor Mills just said she liked Emma's apparently not so subtle glances?

Regina laughs as she watches Emma. Something about her confusion entertains the professor. She walks across the lecture hall, leaving a mere six inches between them.

"Tell me," the professor says with an aroused huskiness to her voice "how old are you dear?"

Emma looks up, her forest eyes meeting with the deepest chocolate she has ever seen. Her breath hitches. She could get lost in those eyes forever. "I will be 21 two weeks from tomorrow." The response is soft as the blonde swallows around the lump that has formed in her throat. She tries not to fidget now as heat floods her lower abdomen continuing to creep lower. Suddenly there is a very noticeable heartbeat between her thighs.

"Mmhmm," the professor purrs. "Well then, Emma," the professor saunters toward the blonde, closing the distance between them until there is less than an inch, "happy early birthday."

She presses her painted red lips to Emma's soft pink. Emma tenses, not realizing what the hell is happening for a few seconds, but once she does, she softens letting her lips reciprocate, a soft moan escaping her. Regina's hands tangle in Emma's golden locks, wrapping her leg around the young blonde's waist and pulling her in as close as possible.

"Is this really happening? How is this happening?" Emma thinks. At that moment 'how' isn't really important. Her hot creative writing professor is kissing her and that's all that matters.

Emma sits up gasping for air and rubs her face with her hands. "What the fuck was that," she asks herself. She sighs, pushing the blankets off her and placing her feet on the floor. The cool air of the room feels so good against her flush skin. She isn't certain if she is happy she had woken up at that point or pissed off that she can't finish the dream. She smashes the off button on her alarm clock and trips on her covers as she gets up to get ready for her day. She picks up the stuffed Panda that has fallen to the floor and tosses it back onto the bed. She groans when she remembers that today she has to sit in Regina Mill's office talking about the near erotica she wrote yesterday and pretend that she wasn't fantasizing about the woman herself when she wrote it.