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salmon_pinkTitle: Fulfilled
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Emma/Regina
Rating: NC-17
Words: 620
Notes: Fisting. For Femslash February, and a prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ouatfemkink.
Summary: Emma exists to push Regina's limits. All of her limits.
Regina’s gasping, moaning, a burn in her chest from how hard she’s working just to be able to breathe. Her hair is damp with sweat, curling behind her ears and sticking to her forehead. It’s difficult to keep her eyes focused, and Emma’s face swims before her, her smirk somehow sharp through the haze.
“That’s right,” Emma’s murmuring, voice low and comforting but also thick with lust, words seeming to slide over her skin and making Regina shiver. “Just relax for me.”
There’s a part of Regina that always bristles at being told what to do, that should lash out and sneer at the potential condescension, but it’s quiet now, too distracted by the feeling of four fingers spreading her wide. Thrusting slow and steady within her, and Regina’s soaked and over-sensitised, the inside of her thighs slick with her pleasure.
She wants to gasp that she can’t do this, that she can’t take any more, even if her pride hates her for the thought. She wants to acknowledge that maybe she’s reached the point where she has to back down, where she has to admit that in this Emma is too much, the challenge of her overwhelming.
But she can’t, won’t allow it, couldn’t find the words even if surrender were an option.
Regina Mills never backs down from anything.
And she wants this. Wants to feel this, everything Emma has promised her, everything Emma can give her.
Emma’s smiling at her like a predator, and Regina has always hated to feel weak.
“Give it to me,” she hisses with what little voice she has left, and Emma’s eyes are so dark, ravenous for the tremble of Regina’s muscles, the arch of her spine as she tries to lift her hips.
Those fingers begin to retreat, and Regina loathes the hoarse little noise that escapes her lips before she can clamp down on it, hates the way it only makes Emma’s smile grow fiercer.
She is enjoying herself, reducing Regina to such vulnerability, and Regina both seethes and loves her for it.
Emma shushes her gently, and Regina tries to glare up at her, but those fingers are pushing back into her, with Emma’s thumb now pressed up against them, and Regina’s eyes fall shut. So thick, so wide, and only growing within her, and Regina’s hands grasp at the sheets, twist into the material, trying to gulp down air like she’s drowning.
Emma keeps giving her more, pushing in further, until the widest part of her hand is holding Regina open, stretching her so wide, and Regina’s groans are beginning to sound like sobs. Shaking apart as Emma gives her everything, her whole damn hand, all the way to her wrist, and Regina’s cheeks are damp, feeling raw and open and full in a way that seems impossible.
Feeling like Emma has claimed her, and she can hear Emma’s voice whispering to her, telling her how sexy she is, how gorgeous and wet and perfect, but it sounds so far away.
And then Regina is shouting, voice loud and croaky, as Emma’s fingers curl within her, tips stroking over her walls, making her hand feel bigger as it curls into a fist.
Filled so completely, and Regina is undone, destroyed, no longer queen or mayor or even a person. Just a plaything made for sex, for Emma’s desire, here only for her pleasure, head spinning and heart thundering and cunt clenching and pulsing around Emma’s hand.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” Emma promises her quietly, sounding both hungry and awed, and then her hand begins to move, careful but deep, and Regina has no choice but to abandon sanity and ego and give herself to the burn.
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Emma/Regina
Rating: NC-17
Words: 620
Notes: Fisting. For Femslash February, and a prompt at
ouatfemkink.Summary: Emma exists to push Regina's limits. All of her limits.
Regina’s gasping, moaning, a burn in her chest from how hard she’s working just to be able to breathe. Her hair is damp with sweat, curling behind her ears and sticking to her forehead. It’s difficult to keep her eyes focused, and Emma’s face swims before her, her smirk somehow sharp through the haze.
“That’s right,” Emma’s murmuring, voice low and comforting but also thick with lust, words seeming to slide over her skin and making Regina shiver. “Just relax for me.”
There’s a part of Regina that always bristles at being told what to do, that should lash out and sneer at the potential condescension, but it’s quiet now, too distracted by the feeling of four fingers spreading her wide. Thrusting slow and steady within her, and Regina’s soaked and over-sensitised, the inside of her thighs slick with her pleasure.
She wants to gasp that she can’t do this, that she can’t take any more, even if her pride hates her for the thought. She wants to acknowledge that maybe she’s reached the point where she has to back down, where she has to admit that in this Emma is too much, the challenge of her overwhelming.
But she can’t, won’t allow it, couldn’t find the words even if surrender were an option.
Regina Mills never backs down from anything.
And she wants this. Wants to feel this, everything Emma has promised her, everything Emma can give her.
Emma’s smiling at her like a predator, and Regina has always hated to feel weak.
“Give it to me,” she hisses with what little voice she has left, and Emma’s eyes are so dark, ravenous for the tremble of Regina’s muscles, the arch of her spine as she tries to lift her hips.
Those fingers begin to retreat, and Regina loathes the hoarse little noise that escapes her lips before she can clamp down on it, hates the way it only makes Emma’s smile grow fiercer.
She is enjoying herself, reducing Regina to such vulnerability, and Regina both seethes and loves her for it.
Emma shushes her gently, and Regina tries to glare up at her, but those fingers are pushing back into her, with Emma’s thumb now pressed up against them, and Regina’s eyes fall shut. So thick, so wide, and only growing within her, and Regina’s hands grasp at the sheets, twist into the material, trying to gulp down air like she’s drowning.
Emma keeps giving her more, pushing in further, until the widest part of her hand is holding Regina open, stretching her so wide, and Regina’s groans are beginning to sound like sobs. Shaking apart as Emma gives her everything, her whole damn hand, all the way to her wrist, and Regina’s cheeks are damp, feeling raw and open and full in a way that seems impossible.
Feeling like Emma has claimed her, and she can hear Emma’s voice whispering to her, telling her how sexy she is, how gorgeous and wet and perfect, but it sounds so far away.
And then Regina is shouting, voice loud and croaky, as Emma’s fingers curl within her, tips stroking over her walls, making her hand feel bigger as it curls into a fist.
Filled so completely, and Regina is undone, destroyed, no longer queen or mayor or even a person. Just a plaything made for sex, for Emma’s desire, here only for her pleasure, head spinning and heart thundering and cunt clenching and pulsing around Emma’s hand.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” Emma promises her quietly, sounding both hungry and awed, and then her hand begins to move, careful but deep, and Regina has no choice but to abandon sanity and ego and give herself to the burn.
