Hello! I am back (as long as writer's block stays away). I've been pretty busy with exams for a while but I'm a free gay now so there are a lot of things in the works. \o/

Set after the season 4 finale: Regina summons Dark One!Emma and gets more than she bargained for. Shameless, filthy, rough PWP with (relatively) submissive!Regina.

I am a thirsty creature. Feedback is always appreciated.

WARNINGS: Explicit smut, swearing, roughness, vague D/s dynamic - all that good shit.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Once Upon A Time.

It's decided that it's best Regina looks after the dagger; she's the most capable magic user, after all, and has more than proved her good intent. She's also strong enough to separate herself from her feelings and escape manipulation from the Dark One.

That had all seemed well and good in theory, discussed over tea at the Charming's apartment. However, here, standing alone in her bedroom in pyjamas and sock feet with the dagger in her hand, Regina couldn't feel more out of her depth.

This should be easy; she has the dagger. She can control Emma if she's to appear, and if the blonde doesn't, then there's no need to worry.

But it's not easy. The house feels far too large and she feels far too small, and she's very aware of her son asleep just down the corridor. They're messing with forces too big for them to handle or even comprehend – they're talking about the greatest, oldest evil combined with the saviour to form something new, volatile, and unpredictable – and nothing about this is at all comfortable.

Regina had told herself she wouldn't let her emotions get the better of her – that's most of the reason she's been entrusted with the dagger, after all. She just needs to hide the dagger away, go to bed, and forget about it, at least until the morning. This is the sensible thing to do, but before she can stop herself, her lips are moving.

Her hand trembles as she holds the dagger out in front of her. The words, "Dark One, I summon thee," roll off her tongue against her will.

She's just doing this to gauge the situation and see how far gone Emma is; that's all this is. She's definitely not doing it because she simply wants to see Emma. No sir.

For a moment, nothing happens. There's an eerie silence, and Regina swears she can almost hear her heart thumping inside her chest. Then she exhales and lowers the dagger. It hasn't worked, and she's half relieved and half disappointed. She's about to lay the knife in an old chest just the right size for such a weapon when an icy chill floods the room. A strong sense of unease settles over Regina, and it only increases when she hears a low voice come from behind her.

"I didn't expect you to cave so quickly. Then again, all things considered, it does make sense."

Regina spins, the dagger raised again. In front of her, the blonde sheriff stands, leaning against the door frame lazily. "Emma," the brunette breathes, eyes wide.

The blonde flinches slightly at the use of her name before composing herself and glaring at the former queen with hard eyes. "Forgive me," she says icily, making it very clear she could not care less if Regina forgives her or not. "But I'd rather you didn't call me that."

Regina hardens, her eyes becoming guarded and her mouth setting into a thin line. It's very clear that this isn't Emma talking – the Dark One has her in its grasp, and it's not going to let go easily.

"It's so–" Emma pauses, cocking her head and searching for the right word. "–mellow." The blonde runs a finger over the top of Regina's dresser, picking up knick-knacks and fiddling with them before discarding them as if they're of no value whatsoever. She spits out her own name – "Emma!" – as if it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

"What would you rather I call you, then?" Regina retorts sharply, watching the blonde play with the mostly worthless trinkets that sit on her dresser.

The blonde's head snaps up and she looks at Regina with beady eyes – that lovely soft, liquid emerald has been replaced with a sickly, greyish green, and her eyes look bloodshot and almost reptilian. She drops the unlit candle she's currently holding onto the dresser once more, and it topples over, but neither women pay any attention to it.

"You can call me by my title," Emma orders. "The Dark One."

Regina watches the blonde for a moment with conflicted eyes. "You can't run from her forever," she says calmly.

"In case you're forgetting, I'm the Dark One," Emma sneers. "I don't run from anyone."

"Maybe, but you're not exactly cuddling up to Emma Swan – the saviour," Regina explains. It looks an awful lot to her like part of Emma – the part currently overcome by the darkness – is trying to put distance between herself and the saviour part of Emma, the part full of goodness and power, but also responsibility.

The blonde's eyes flash dangerously, and her hand flies out in front of her, her magic pushing Regina across the room and pinning her against the wall, holding her there. "Is that would you'd like?"

Regina swallows, fighting against the urge to struggle. Her brow furrows – the conversation has taken a turn but she's not quite sure where it's gone.

"You forget, Regina, that I've been inside you," the Dark One says, emphasising her last two words, well aware of the double entendre. "The Dark One has been inside your head. I know what you feel for the saviour."

The brunette snorts.

"I know that you wouldn't mind cuddling up to her," she purrs, slinking closer in a predatory way that's distinctly not Emma Swan.

"You're wrong," Regina lies.

"Am I?" Emma contradicts, finally reaching the brunette. She presses her body flush against Regina's and lays a hand on her chest, just above her heart. It would be so easy for her right now to simply reach in and grab the queen's dark heart, for her to squeeze it into dust in front of the older woman's very eyes, but that's not what she wants here and they both know it. "Because this," the blonde's eyes lock onto deep brown ones as she presses harder against Regina's chest. "Says otherwise."

And it does. It betrays Regina's steely resolve and beats fast and hard under Emma's palm. The brunette curses herself for not removing it before summoning the Dark One. Even if Emma has no intention of taking it right now, it's idiotic to bring your heart to a situation like this; it's the one valuable lesson her heartless mother had taught her.

"What, no witty, cutting remark?" Emma mocks, with wide, innocent eyes.

Regina bites back the anger that's growing inside her. "I won't fight you," she growls. It's a lie, she knows; if it comes to it and Emma starts throwing her about, she'll defend herself.

"Oh, I don't want to fight you, Regina," the blonde counters. "Where's the fun in that?"

Dark, perfectly sculpted brows pull together in confusion, and then there are lips crashing against her own – chapped and salty, and so completely Emma, but so not; she can practically taste the darkness on Emma's lips, and it makes her want to both pull away and kiss her deeper.

She does the latter.

It's messy and hard and violent; teeth clashing and biting, and tongues pushing against each other. It's intoxicating, and completely forbidden and wrong, which somehow only makes it more desirable.

One of Regina's hands, the one that's not holding the dagger, moves to knot in blonde locks. She's not sure if she's trying to pull Emma closer or push her away.

God, this is a mess. This should not be happening.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to make a decision, because Emma pulls away first. There's an infuriating smirk on her lips that simply says "I told you so" and Regina wants nothing more than to wipe it off.

Either with a kiss or a punch – she doesn't particularly mind which.

"Is that what you want? My body?" Regina asks with raised eyebrows, because it seems rather unlikely that all the Dark One wants is sex from the Evil Queen.

"Now you're getting it," Emma drawls, shooting her a devilish grin before leaning in and kissing Regina hard once more. The hand still resting over the queen's heart slides over the swell of Regina's breasts, groping them roughly through the silk pyjama shirt.

Regina can't stop the breathy moan that bubbles up in response to the contact. Her nipples stiffen under the fabric, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she's embarrassed by the quick reaction. Apparently her body won't stop betraying her tonight.

Emma's head dips lower, her mouth moving to the brunette's throat. Teeth bite down on the sensitive skin and Regina yelps at the unexpected pain. Heat rushes to the space between her thighs all the same, and she finds herself thoroughly turned on by the display of carnal, animalistic lust, regardless of how wrong this is.

The blonde's mouth leaves behind a perfect imprint of her teeth, pink and stinging, marking Regina as her own.

And then it clicks: it's not the act of sex that the blonde wants, but the power.

But it's too late, because one of Emma's hands is trailing down Regina's stomach, slipping under the hem of her shirt and tracing circles across the olive skin of her abdomen. This is too divine – all anger, possession, and pure, unbridled lust – and the brunette can't stop this now, despite how much she knows she should.

"I hate you," Regina grits out before inhaling sharply when Emma ducks her head to bite Regina's sensitive peak through her shirt. She doesn't really – she could never hate Emma again – but she's scrabbling for some semblance of control.

"I'm sure you do," Emma chuckles. "You can stop this if you want," she says, pausing to look at Regina. The magic pinning Regina to the wall is gone, and the brunette is completely free to move away if she so wishes. "You have the dagger. Just tell me to stop."

There's that damn manipulation that seems to be the Dark One's trademark. It's a trick to force her to practically hand her control over willingly, to make her admit she wants this. It's all about power and humiliation, and Emma knows she's going to get it because Regina is too far gone. The blonde has worked her up and she needs her release, needs more of this terrible thing they're doing.

"Fuck you," Regina spits.

Emma chuckles. "That's my job." When the brunette doesn't command her to stop, the blonde slips her hand beneath the waistband of Regina's silk pyjama bottoms. Her fingers play over the lace of the brunette's underwear, stroking her through the damp fabric.

Regina's teeth sink into her lower lip. Her chest rises and falls rapidly in anticipation as the blonde continues teasing her.

"I've been waiting a long time for this," Emma murmurs.

"Have you now?" Regina retorts, trying to stop her voice from wavering.

Emma hums in confirmation. Her fingers apply a little more pressure as they continue to trail back and forth. Regina half grunts as the blonde pushes on her clit for a moment before moving away again. Emma just grins slyly, and then pushes the lace to the side, dipping into the abundant wetness. Her fingertips slide through Regina's folds ever so slowly, spreading the brunette's arousal around.

The blonde withdraws her slick fingers then, bring them up to her face and admiring the way they glisten in the low light of the bedroom. Then, she rests those same fingers on Regina's lower lip, pushing slightly, silently telling her to open her mouth. Regina obliges, and two fingers push into her open mouth. The former queen's tongue brushes against them, licking herself from Emma's fingers. Regina moans languidly at the taste of herself, and more wetness pools between her thighs.

"Good girl," Emma praises with a smirk. She takes her fingers away again and slips them back inside Regina's underwear, delighting in the new heat she finds there. "Who knew the Evil Queen could be so submissive?"

As if to prove her wrong, Regina growls and grinds her hips down against the sheriff's hand, pursuing the friction she needs. "I'm right where I want to be," she mutters.

Emma just chuckles and pulls her hand away with a shake of her head, denying Regina her pleasure. "I'm sure you are." When the brunette's hips stop moving, Emma moves in again, fingers searching and exploring. "I'll tell you something."

Regina's head drops back against the wall with a dull thump as two fingers glide over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Ever since I got to Storybrooke, I've wanted to do this," the blonde admits, her fingers moving in tight circles, changing direction every now and then to mix it up a bit. "Wanted to fuck you." She punctuates her crude words by finally pressing two fingers inside Regina, drawing a strangled gasp from the older woman. Emma smirks slyly at the reaction, and curls her fingers before pulling them out almost all the way.

"Then do it," Regina hisses, hips bucking impatiently. She needs this bad, needs to come and needs to stay quiet and needs Emma to leave afterwards.

"Patience, Your Majesty," Emma purrs, but pushes back into the brunette all the same. She goes further this time, but then she's withdrawing again, and god, if Emma doesn't stop this teasing and get on with it soon –

The blonde thrusts back in hard before settling into a steady rhythm, fingers curling and brushing torturously against that rough spot with every push. Her thumb works circles over her clit all the while, driving Regina towards the edge.

Emma's name leaves the brunette's name in a broken whimper. Regina bites down dangerously hard on her bottom lip, almost enough to draw blood. She can still taste herself on her lips, and it only adds to her arousal.

"I've already told you," Emma snarls, knuckle-deep in Regina. "Don't call me that!" She pushes a third finger inside the mayor, and Regina can't bite back her cry of pleasure.

Three fingers sliding against her G-spot and one circling her clit is enough to finish her and send her hurtling over the edge. Her body goes rigid, hips still rocking desperately, trying to drag it out as long as possible. Emma's mouth moves to cover hers, muffling the wanton moan that she's unable to swallow. Wetness spills over the sheriff's fingers, and then it's all over.

Regina slumps against the wall, held up by Emma's strong form. The blonde pulls out whilst the queen catches her breath, and her tongue glides over her own fingers, tasting Regina on herself. She tastes good, better than anyone Emma's tasted for a long while, and she wants more.

A hand shoves at the blonde's shoulder, pushing her back a few steps, before Regina raises the dagger again, not high enough to command her, but high enough to be an effective warning. Emma's amazed she was able to hold onto it for so long, honestly.

"You have to go," Regina orders, her voice and body still shaky from her orgasm.

"But we were having so much fun!" Emma complains innocently, before turning devilish again. "I can think of more enjoyable things to do with that dagger," she says, dragging a finger down Regina's still-clothed chest.

Regina's brows raise. "Really? So tell me, Dark One," she says, half challenging the blonde. She really shouldn't give into this, because Emma really does have to go, but this is all too delicious.

"Where do you want me, other than gone?" Emma asks. She's willing to take a more submissive role if it means she gets to stay because even if this is about power and forcing Regina to admit what she wants, she's quite enjoying the other things too.

The brunette swallows and inhales. She wasn't expecting to be practically handed the control, but it's happening. Her resolve weakens. Raising the dagger higher, she orders the Dark One in a shaking but resolute voice. "I want you on your knees."