Wonderland

aposse:

Skin and Bones (inspired by this also)

Their breaths run short at the sight of their newborn child, and Emma wills herself to not cry when tiny hands wrap around her finger. “He’s beautiful.” She says, the simple gesture disposing of her efforts to keep her tears at bay. If he weren’t in her arms she’s quite certain her body would be convulsing in a sob. Emma wipes the tear that’s dripped onto his head with a finger.

“Indeed.” Regina steps closer and brushes a gold stray of hair away from the woman’s head, brushing it back in memory of their past encounters. It bends behind Emma’s ear like it always does, and the familiarity of such a moment  —  a regularity in a day so unexpected  —  brings relief to Regina. “What’s his name?” She finally asks. 

Emma thinks for a moment, eyes still fixed on the baby before the smile from her lips fade. It’s still in her voice when she speaks. “What was your father’s name?” It’s waters they’ve barely treaded, and though Emma’s tested them she’s never gone so far as knee-deep.

Regina can almost feel herself drowning as she says the name. ”Henry.”

“Henry.” Emma repeats, and in that moment the wandering eyes beneath her pause, looking up at her with a hope so profound it stuns even Regina. “Henry. That’s what we’ll name him.”

“I killed him, Emma. He died because of me.”

A silence falls over them as the words linger in the air, tainting the purity of the moment. 

“He died for you.” Emma corrects. Blue eyes meet brown, the glance saying more than their words can and would. She lifts their son up and hands him over to Regina, their fingers grazing at the exchange.

There’s a tingle in the touch, a sort of forgiveness Regina knows Emma is trying to show. The corner of her mouth twitches in acknowledgment.

“Henry,” Regina feels the words fall from her lips. The bitterness, she’s realized, is no longer there. A sweetness replaces it instead. “Henry.” She repeats. 

“You won’t kill this one, will you?” Emma teases, and though it’s years past and the wound is but a scar faint in Regina’s heart, it still hurts. It’s the price she pays everyday and she expects nothing less.

Regina shakes her head, lips trembling as her eyes search those of her son’s. “I’d die for him.” 

heartsways:

“I do hope you like apples,” Regina said with a wolfish smile.

Emma took a step back, faltering a little. The challenging lilt to Regina’s voice made it clear that the Mayor wasn’t talking about fruit. Although, Emma thought to herself, it was entirely possible that Regina meant fruit of the forbidden kind. And from the way her gaze was raking up and down Emma’s form, it was clear that Regina had other things on her mind apart from baked goods.

“I like apples just fine,” Emma muttered, shifting awkwardly on the kitchen floor, her boots making a much louder sound than she’d intended. She shrugged and avoided Regina’s eyes, much darker and more intense than when she’d first wandered into the kitchen.

“Indeed,” Regina murmured, her fingers reaching up to toy with the buttons on her shirt.

Emma swallowed audibly. Oh yeah. Regina definitely didn’t have baking on her mind.

“You know,” Emma said, clearing her throat, “if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

“With an apple turnover?” Regina scoffed, tossing her head and laughing in that hard, dismissive way that she had. It always made Emma feel slightly foolish and today was no exception.

Clenching her teeth, Emma gave Regina a curt nod and turned on her heel, grabbing the box Regina had given her and heading for the kitchen door.

“No, wait.” Regina’s voice became softer, a little more gentle, a little less abrasive. Emma halted in the doorway, chewing at her bottom lip for a moment, then turning slowly to face Regina.

“Don’t go,” Regina implored, tilting her head onto one side and looking somewhat apologetic, much to Emma’s chagrin. She preferred it when they were firmly planted on either side of the battlefield; when it was clear that they were adversaries. This nebulous, uncomfortable middle ground they were currently occupying bothered her. Not because she didn’t want Regina; not because she hadn’t thought about the other woman in that way. No; it was because of precisely the opposite.

Making an enemy out of Regina had been the only way to keep her at arm’s length. The only way to avoid temptation. But Emma had come to realize that hating someone - or pretending to - made them an even more desirable conquest. And she’d harbored a variety of thoughts about ways in which she might conquer Regina Mills.

None of them, however, had involved the pristine kitchen in which they currently stood.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, Sheriff,” Regina inclined her head in a gesture of apology. But her gaze flickered over Emma’s features with a burning curiosity and more than a little wicked desire.

“S’okay,” Emma shrugged again, the nonchalance she’d nurtured throughout her adult life coming almost as second nature. “Everyone’s gotta have a hobby.”

Regina chuckled, her hands lingering over the front of her shirt again. Her lips curved in a beatific smile and she took a step closer to Emma. This time, the blonde didn’t move away and stood her ground, eyes meeting Regina’s almost in a show of defiance.

Her smile widening, Regina plucked at the top button of her shirt, pushing it free from its fastening and then moving on to the one beneath it.

“Perhaps I can offer you something else?” she purred, pulling at the material to reveal expensive looking lacy underwear. Emma’s gaze slid from Regina’s shoulders down over the expanse of revealed skin to where her stomach curved gently above the waistband of her pants.

Emma tried - and failed - to muster up the appropriate level of insouciance necessary to fend off such an open, direct attack on her senses. But as she found herself stepping even closer to Regina, she caught a faint scent of the other woman’s perfume and breathed it in. She wondered what Regina’s skin must taste like, what the other woman’s mouth on her own would feel like, how those delicately strong fingers would feel pushing and pinching and thrusting inside her.

She shivered involuntarily and allowed Regina to brush up against her, naked skin whispering over Emma’s leather jacket in quite a pleasing manner, if Regina’s sharp intake of air was anything to go by.

“What have you got in mind?” Emma said in a graveled tone, Regina’s hands already traveling up the length of her arms so that fingers could grasp the zipper of her jacket and tug it downwards at an achingly slow pace. Regina’s breathing was already shallow, her lips moist and inviting. Emma felt a familiar ache begin between her legs, reminding her of all the nights spent alone in bed trying not to think about Regina and doing so anyway, in gloriously vivid detail.

She didn’t move as Regina shoved the leather jacket from her shoulders and let it drop onto the floor in a clatter of metal zippers and studs.

“Really, Miss Swan,” Regina murmured, her lips hovering close to Emma’s ear and creating the most excruciating blend of buzzing irritation and humming want. “You don’t want to know what’s on my mind.”

It was only when a single finger stroked down her cheek that Emma moved, reaching up and grasping Regina’s wrist, staying the progress of her hand. She glared at the Mayor, conscious of the fact that her anger didn’t temper her lust, but fanned its flame, lighting the touch paper of tension between them.

“Actually,” Emma hissed, enjoying the surprised widening of Regina’s eyes, “I do. But I’ll make you a deal. You tell me what you’re thinking of and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking of.”

Regina pursed her lips as though actively contemplating the proposal, then she blinked and shook her head, smiling politely.

“I’m more of a doer,” she proclaimed, “not a talker.”

Emma, hand still closed over Regina’s wrist, backed the other woman up until her hips bumped against the huge marble island in the middle of the room.

“Then do,” Emma said hoarsely, pushing Regina backwards and feasting her eyes on the exposed torso of the other woman. Her throat suddenly turned dry and she took a breath, wanting nothing more than to run her tongue up and down Regina’s sleek form. Just to taste her, savor her.

Regina smiled, her eyes darkening to impossible black. Her lips were almost upon Emma’s when she let out another tiny chuckle, whether of indulgence or triumph, it was hard to tell. “As you wish,” she murmured, before descending onto Emma’s mouth and pushing her tongue between the Sheriff’s lips.

(Source: 3lzyx)