"Look at that stupid little tramp, she's practically hanging off of him. How disgusting."

"What are you mumbling about?" Snow's voice comes up from beside her, and Regina shakes her head, takes a long pull of her wine.

"Nothing." She drops her mug to the table with a loud thud, and Snow jumps in her seat beside her, but says nothing. Instead, she looks up to the dance floor, eyes scanning the swirling couples, and Regina holds in a groan when Snow's brow lifts, spotting the instigator of Regina's mood.

"I didn't know Robin was coming," She says casually, as if it isn't chapping Regina's ass as she watches him twirling and laughing with some stupid little kitchen wench, some peasant.

"As if you didn't invite him to this pitiful excuse of a ball."

"I did invite him, I just didn't think he would actually show up," Snow clarifies, sipping her wine daintily.

"And why wouldn't he come? It's such a lovely affair." It's bullshit, all of it. Christmas is the most bullshit holiday of them all, all the garlands and the holly, the presents and the trees, the wreaths and the fucking mistletoe. Mistletoe, everywhere.

It's her first Christmas without Henry in 10 years, and it's as miserable as she had imagined. She could be cozy in her mansion in Storybrooke, baking sugar cookies and making unbalanced gingerbread houses that collapse as soon as she turns around. She could be making warm hot cocoa with cinnamon and curling up next to a fire while she reads to her little prince about the Night Before Christmas. She could be waking up to little bony knees and elbows when he jumps on her because he's too excited to wait for the sun to rise before he gets to open his presents.

But no. She's stuck here. Sitting with the UnCharmings and a few of their munchkin followers, watching the merry band of idiots, led by their even more idiotic leader, with his shining blue eyes and his deep dimples and his lion tattoo, dancing and singing, all while Henry doesn't even know she exists. It couldn't be much worse, could it?

Well, evidently it can. Because Regina is piss drunk, her belly warm and her brain swirling, and still her blood boils when she watches the light in the thief's eyes when he laughs at the girl (what even is her name?) tucked in his arms.

Fuck him and his happiness. Fuck him and his dazzling smile. Fuck him and his stupid lion tattoo, the one that means she most certainly can't go near him.

She can see Snow shrug from the corner of her eye as she focuses on Robin, hears her soft inhale before she says, "Oh I'd imagine he is well aware that you wouldn't want to see him today."

"Oh?" Regina turns in her seat, head tilted and eyes narrowed as best she can without making her vision any blurrier than it already is. "And why is that? I'm such a ray of sunshine, after all."

"I think he just knows this isn't an easy holiday for you, and that his presence isn't exactly… welcome with you." Snow winces as she speaks, she seems to know that her words were not the right ones, and Regina flashes her eyes, practically growls as she lifts herself from her seat.

"And what the hell does that mean?" She stumbles as she steps backwards, nearly trips over her seat, but she rights herself and flourishes her hands at her sides. "Does he think I don't like him?"

"To be fair, no one thinks you like them," Grumpy mutters from the end of the table, earning a chuckle from Charming and a glare from Regina.

"To be fair, I don't like you," Regina says before she marches around the table. She can't just sit here and watch Robin having the time of his life with some little hussy, to have fun and be happy while she was stuck in a never-ending cycle of misery and loneliness. So she's leaving, she's getting some fresh air.

But she doesn't realize that the song has ended, and the dancing has stopped, shifting into the next dance while some couples exit the dance floor, and she's not exactly as graceful on her high heels as she could be, so she crashes right into Robin's shoulder, knocking the mug out of his hand and spilling cider all down the front of his shirt.

"Well speak of the devil," Regina slurs while Robin wipes whatever liquid he can from his clothing. He furrows his brow at her, either unimpressed or actually irritated, she can't be sure, but she really doesn't care what he thinks, does she? "I have a bone to pick with you."

"You have a problem with me? Have I stained your clothing?" Robin pinches his brow further, and he looks ridiculous, like an angry puppy, and God why is he like this? Why must he be so perfect while she's such a disaster?

"A little birdy told me that you think I don't like you." She arcs her brow, tries to pull off her best arrogant Evil Queen face she can, but she knows she's failing by the twinkle in his eye and the soft laugh he lets out.

"Well, to be fair, you don't seem to like anyone."

"Oh for fuck sakes, I'm not that terrible," Regina grumbles, and Robin cocks a brow at her. "Anymore," She adds, and he rolls his eyes.

"Tell that to Granny, she's still griping about how you roasted her alive for her dinner preparations."

"No one cooks lasagna for Christmas! It's insanity!"

"Well I'm sorry not everything can be up to the Queen's standards." Robin fiddles with his damp shirt, and Regina's mind wanders to the idea of pulling the soaked material off of him slowly, revealing every inch of his chest for her to lick the remnants of his cider off, before she could slide up to his neck and suck at his pulse point…

"Yes, well… it's my castle. I get what I want."

"It seems like you got most of the wine supply," Robin says as he looks her up and down, though with less judgement than she expects from him, a light teasing if anything.

He's right, she may have overdone it, she really does need that fresh air now, her vision is blurry at the edges and she feels light on her feet, oddly clumsy.

"That's none of your business, thief. I'll drink myself into a stupor, if it makes watching you dance with kitchen wenches tolerable." She feels a lick of pride when the cocky smile on his lips falls into something resembling shock and almost… embarrassment?

"So you saw that." He reaches up to rub the back of his head, and his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. It throws her, because why would he be blushing? Why would he care if she saw him dancing with some random woman?

Regina feels her face fall as she loses her cool composure, and she's standing dumbstruck while she stares at him before a small voice perks up from closer to the dance floor, just far enough from Robin and Regina's place in the doorway that he's shouting.

"Daddy!" It's Roland, with Little John, and he's pointing above Regina and Robin's heads. "Daddy, look! Mistletoe!"

No.

No way, not happening.

And yet it is, as they both look up and find that damned bundle of green hanging above their heads.

Regina instantly looks back at Robin, unable to hide her shock and bout of fear, and feels a moment of relief when she sees the same expression on his face. But Roland is still yelling to them, his sweet voice ringing across the open space, "You have to kiss her, Daddy! Kiss Regina!"

She's moving before she can think, picks up the front of her dress and bolts from the room, bursts into the corridor and races around the corner.

She's an idiot, a complete and utter moron. She shouldn't have gone to the ball, she was already heartbroken about Henry, and it was only made worse while she tried to sit still when her stomach flopped as she watched Robin from across the room, longing and pining, the whole nine yards, but then she had to drown her sorrows in alcohol and bump into the damn thief. God, she's an idiot.

A very drunk idiot, who really shouldn't be running, especially in this outfit.

So she stops, leans against a wall and gasps for air, though nothing is enough to calm the racing of her heart. She needs this damn dress off, the corset is killing her.

Robin rounds the corner, his footfall echoing through the empty hall, and he calls out to her, rushes to her side.

"Regina, I'm sorry." He's short of breath too, but he hadn't nearly exerted as much as she had in her drunken state, and the run was a short distance. Though she supposes he had been drinking all night too, not as steadily as her, but still, he's probably a little tipsy and flushed himself. "Roland, he's just excited, the Christmas spirit and all that. He didn't mean… he didn't…"

He's stumbling, and it's adorable and aggravating all at once. "It's your Majesty," she says sharply, pushing herself off of the wall to stand straighter. "And I'm fine. I just… needed some air. You can get back to your little whore."

"She's not a whore," he barks at her, and his sudden temper surprises her. His anger only grows from there, and he starts to pace in front of her as words start to pour from him. "She's a fine woman, a good woman, and she may not be a queen, but she is a wonderful person. And just because you've got a stick a mile up your ass and can't be bothered to give anyone the time of day, it doesn't mean that I can't spend time with people whose company I enjoy. People who enjoy my company. Because I am a good person too, and I can see the good in people, Regina. Your Majesty." He corrects, with a rather dramatic bow.

He sucks in a long breath, and Regina stands frozen in her shock as he continues. "If only you could just stop sucking the life out of everything around you, perhaps you could see that there are people who would want to spend time with you, too. That there are people who…"

He fizzles out, groans in frustration as he clenches his fingers at his sides, and then he steps forward, closing the space between them.

Robin's lips are warm on hers, hot and desperate and needy. Regina melts into him, can't help it, and when he tangles his fingers in the back of her hair, she feels electric sparks through her nerves. She opens her mouth to him and sweeps her tongue along his, and he pushes her back, slamming her into the wall.

His leg is between hers in an instant as his mouth travels down her neck, sucking just behind her ear, and she lets out a strangled moan as he pushes his thigh up to her, giving her pressure just where she's starting to need it.

"We – we can't m-make out in the hall," Regina says, all while he trails his tongue down her neck and back up, sending goosebumps down her spine. "Someone will see us." She hisses when he bites her neck, and he laughs softly, his breath cool on her damp skin.

"Would it be improper for the Queen to be caught lip-locking with a common thief, even when they were under mistletoe together?" He's being cheeky, and it might infuriate her if he wasn't pressing his thigh up into her while pushing her hips down with his hands, urging her to grind against him. She already can't think straight, but he's making it damn near impossible.

"If I say yes, are you going to stop?"

He pauses, leans back to look into her eyes, and for a second she's concerned that he really will stop, that their moment is over, and damn it, she'll be kicking herself all night if she just gave this up. But he smirks at her, flashes his dimples, and locks his lips with hers again, tangles their tongues, and groans into their kiss.

Thank God, she thinks selfishly. She knows she shouldn't be doing this, feels an anxious knot in her stomach because she shouldn't be indulging in him when she is nothing but trouble for him, but God, she wants this. Wants him, in every way humanly possible, in every way he will give himself to her. But she cannot have that; she was not made for happy endings, only for destroying them.

But she can have this, she decides. She can have him tonight, as many times as he'll take her, and then she will remove herself from his life forever.

The sound of footsteps reach Regina's ears, and the hushed voices of Snow and Charming not long after, and Robin pulls himself from her, turning his head towards the sound. Regina flicks her wrist and covers them in a purple cloud. She drops them in her bedchambers, and Robin is still facing away from her. He turns to her then, brow raised and chin tucked as he grins at her.

"Rather forward of you," He says dropping a quick kiss on her lips before moving back to her neck, where he trails his tongue up and down, back up and along her jaw.

She shivers, and for a moment isn't sure what he means. But then he pushes her back against her vanity, hard enough to knock a few bottles over, and she realizes what he meant. Truthfully, she hadn't brought him here for any reason other than privacy. This was the only place in the castle that Snow White wouldn't come barging in uninvited, and for a moment she worries that she's given him the wrong idea.

But Robin squeezes her hips and groans before capturing her lips in another hot kiss, and she couldn't give a damn what kind of messages she gives him.

"That's not forward," She murmurs into his kiss, "not yet."

Regina slides her hands between them, up his chest until she can grip the neck of his shirt. She grips and tugs, hard and quick, ripping his shirt clean in half. Robin grunts and takes a step back, tearing his lips from hers abruptly, and then smirks at her.

"I would like to retaliate…" He says as he slides his palms up her sides, bumping along the crystals of her bodice, until his palms cup just under her breasts. "But I have a feeling this is a little harder to tear."

"You can give it a shot. Show me what you got, thief." Regina winks at him and wraps her fingers around his wrists, sliding his palms up to her breasts. He groans and closes his eyes for a moment, as if he's trying to control himself, and then slides his hands to the center of her chest and tugs her bodice, ripping a slit about half way down the middle.

Regina laughs and shakes her head as she runs her hands up and down his arms. "Not bad, I'm impressed."

But Robin isn't listening; he is far too entranced by the newly revealed bare skin of her chest. It isn't much, her navel and nipples were still covered, but the open material was still teasing enough to draw him in, to have him trailing his fingers between her breasts, sliding from underneath one swell to the other.

Finally he lifts his eyes to her as he wraps his fingers around the torn material, and the need, the pure want in his eyes had something burning low in her belly. He tilts his chin down, asks a soft "may I?" and gently rubs his thumb on her bare skin. She nods quickly, and watches him as he gives another hard tug, tearing the rest of the bodice in half.

He pulls it off of her slowly, revealing her inch by inch until she is standing naked from the waist up. It's all so gentle, so intimate, that it frightens her, and knots twist in her gut while he trails his fingers along her belly.

"You're awfully patient," Regina breathes, and Robin grins in response.

"You're awfully stunning."

"But I…" She ropes her hands around his neck, pulling him to her until their skin is flush together, their lips hovering over each other. "Am not a patient woman."

Regina pulls him into her, sucks on his bottom lip, and it's all heat and desire from there. She doesn't want gentle, she doesn't want intimate; she wants to fuck him as hard as she can, until they're both walking crooked tomorrow.

She doesn't stop kissing him as she starts tugging his pants down, and he quickly catches up with her, pushing her skirts to the floor. It's awkward though, awkward and clumsy on their drunks limbs with lips that refuse to part. Regina groans in frustration and waves a hand at her side, engulfing them in a cloud of purple and depositing them on the bed, fully naked and tangled together.

They laugh in unison, and Robin presses kisses to her chest from above her, moving over until he can capture her nipple between his lips and suck. Still, he's too gentle, and she digs her fingers into his hair, gripping the short locks and pressing his face into her chest until he sucks harder, biting softly, kneading her other breast with his hand, and she gives him a harsh moan in response. He follows her directions, and sucks and bites, pinches her nipple between his fingers, and it stirs the arousal in her belly with every harsh pulse of pain and pleasure.

Each bite is a spark, every suck a shock, and she arches her chest up into him, absently pushes her thighs together and grinds them to find some sort of friction. He notices, slides a hand down between her legs, and glides his fingers between her folds, pressing, swirling, and God, it's incredible, and he hasn't even done anything yet. Still, there's something spiralling inside her, bouncing between her oversensitive nipples and her aching center, and it's good.

"Gods, Regina," He groans into her chest after he releases her breast with a pop and a swirl of his tongue, "You're so wet."

"Because of you," She answers without thinking, but the words seem too intimate, too real, so she adds, "More, Robin."

She looks down at him, wants to watch him sucking at her skin, but is distracted by her own breast. It's covered in angry purple and blue splotches, her nipple too, and for a minute she considers scolding him. She doesn't like hickeys, they are ugly little bruises, marks of possession from sloppy men who want to claim her skin as their own. But the way Robin touches her, the way he licks at her pebbled nipple before sucking it firmly enough to pull a gasp from her, she thinks he does not want to possess her, only to give her what she had asked for, and she had wanted it rough, so she lets it slide.

Robin circles his fingers around her clit, and she's aching, desperate for his touch just there, and she moves her hips into his hand, trying to direct his fingers. But this time he doesn't follow her lead, and instead slides his fingers lower, sinking two of them into her and pushing up and in once, hard. Regina gasps, her jaw hanging slack, and he does it again, pushing hard into her and god it's perfect, he's perfect, he's right on that spot, or damn near close enough, and it spreads heat through her belly.

"Yes, yes, right there," She says between gasps as she digs her head into her pillow, rocking her hips to match his hand. He pumps his fingers hard and fast, and it's so much so quick, it has her writhing, squirming under him.

She hadn't realized he stopped sucking at her, had abandoned her breasts to watch her face as she thrust his fingers inside her again and again, and she looks up when he rasps a strained "you're so bloody gorgeous." Their eyes meet for a moment, and she catches his cheeky grin as he lowers his mouth to her stomach, trailing his tongue down, down, right to where she's throbbing.

"Yes – ah – my, my…" She doesn't have to finish; her words are cut off by a satisfied moan as he laps at her clit, pushing firmly against it to match the thrusting of his fingers. But it's not enough, just enough to tease her, and then he's sitting back, watching her face as she whimpers her disapproval.

"Robin," Regina groans, rocks her hips into his hands harder, faster, and then he stops completely, pulls his fingers from her and grips her hips, yanking her towards him.

"Say it again." He's all hungry eyes and smirking lips, and for a minute she's so lost in the fall of her pleasure she just stares at him, brow furrowed and chest heaving.

"My name, say it again."

He swirls his fingers around her entrance, then up to her clit and back down, feather light touches, not enough to get her back on the track he just derailed her from, and it lights a burning anger in her belly.

"Not likely, thief."

Robin's smile only grows, and he leans over her, holding himself up on one hand while he thrusts his fingers back in her once, sudden and hard, and she gasps, jaw hanging open as she falls into a moan. He swallows the sound with a bruising kiss, nipping at her bottom lip before he pulls back, looking her straight in the eye when he thrusts his fingers once more, curling and pushing and it blooms in her belly for a moment before fading away.

"Regina." Robin leans down, sucking at the sensitive spot behind her ear when he curls his fingers, but doesn't quite thrust, he does more of a rocking motion, a rubbing, pushing, and Regina let's out a strangled "aaahh", and grips his shoulders, digging her nails in the soft skin until she's sure she'd left a mark. He hisses in her ear, sinks his teeth into her neck, and it stings, but Regina finds she likes it, encourages him with another moan in his ear.

There's pressure building in her stomach, hot and tight, and he's right where she needs him, pulsing his fingers against that spot that has her seeing stars, but he stops again, and this time she lets out an angry shout of his name, strong and clear.

Robin pushes off of her, leans back on his legs and pulls her towards him, hiking her hips up onto his lap to wrap her legs around his waist, and he smiles cheekily at her. "Now was that so hard?" He teases, running his hands up the inside of her thighs before his eyes fall to her sex, wet and waiting for him, and he reaches for his cock, rock hard and waiting for her, and pumps himself slowly.

"Shut up and fuck me, Robin," Regina says as she rocks her hips towards him, and he shuts his eyes and groans, tugs at her hips again until her sex is pressed against his cock.

"Sounds just as glorious this time." His voice is steady, light and teasing, but he's clenching his jaw and exhaling deeply as he lines up and finally sinks into her.

This is better, this is much better. Robin gives her a moment to adjust to having him inside her, and then he thrusts his hips against her slowly, easing all the way out, leaving just the tip inside, and then pushing back in. But it's not hard enough, not the steady thumping rhythm he had found with his hand, so Regina digs her heels into the base of his spine, urging him wordlessly to go faster, harder.

He picks up the pace, sliding in and out of her quickly, and the angle is perfect, it's deep, and he thrusts into her harder and harder, each pass hitting her just right, and it's all she can think of, all she can feel are the waves pulsing from him as he pumps into her.

Regina's moans are constant, she's almost babbling, and every sound seems to push Robin closer to the edge; he closes his eyes, can't even look at her, and he clenches his fingers around her hips, so hard he may leave bruises, but who is she to care when he's – oh God – pumping in and out of her, sliding through her wetness to pound against her g-spot?

Robin's grip on her hips suddenly slips, and Regina falls slightly, loses that perfect angle, and he apologizes, says his arms are cramping. She hadn't realized he was holding her up to him, and clenches her legs around his waist, taking some of the weight off of his arms.

"Don't stop, I'm close," Regina tells him, almost a whimper, and he nods, wraps one arm around the base of her spine to hold her up and presses his other hand to her belly, keeping her steady. He finds the pace he had set before, the one that had her writhing in waves of pleasure, and she bucks into him, urging him harder and faster, until she can feel herself getting closer to her peak.

Her thighs start to tremble, losing their grip on Robin's waist, and he slides his hand down father, closer to where his cock is pounding into her, so he can press his thumb to her clit, rolling it in tight circles.

It's just enough, the sparks flying through her ignite as she arches off the bed, her hips spasming against his as orgasm takes her. He tries to push through it, but he doesn't have a good hold on her anymore, and she nearly bucks out of his grip, so he lets her slide to the bed while she comes down from her peak.

Robin's breathing is heavy as he slumps over her, supporting his weight on his hands as to not collapse on her, and Regina notices that he's still hard, painfully so, and she runs her foot along his calf as she teases, "Not good enough for you, thief?"

He huffs a laugh, his chest still heaving, and he shakes his head. "On the contrary, I'm trying to make this last." He's smiling at her, that cocky and arrogant smile that usually plucks at her last nerve, but here, in darkness of her bedchambers while he's naked above her, it looks more like a mask. He's guarding himself from her, something she never thought him capable of, and she realizes that he has been thinking exactly what she has.

This will be their first and last time, and when it ends, it's over.

Regina's eyes drift down his arms, slightly turning her head until her gaze can fall on the patch of dark ink at his wrist, and for a moment her heart clenches painfully, as if it may break.

She can't let him go, doesn't want to, and damn it, he's her soul mate. He is hers, and hers alone.

She reaches up to grip the back of his head, tugging at his hair to pull him down to her, and she crashes his lips to hers, tangling her tongue around his in an instant. She moves down his jaw, sucking and biting at his neck, digging her teeth into his warm skin until she has left several marks down the expanse of his neck.

"Now, Robin…" She whispers into his ear, and relishes in the strangled groan he lets slip from his lips. "Are you going to fuck me good and proper now?"

He moans loudly, harsh and throaty, before he attaches his lips to her neck, sucking and tugging at the skin until she moans back at him.

"Roll over," He instructs as he pushes off the bed, lifting himself to stand at the edge as she does as she's told. Regina usually isn't one for a dominant partner in bed, can't stand the feeling of having no control over her body, but there's something about the way Robin wants her, the way he touches her, as if it's for her and not him. He is not controlling her, he is pleasuring her. And she'll be damned if she'll turn him down now.

She lifts onto all fours, and Robin guides her back to him, runs his palms down her rear before slipping between her legs, checking to see if she's still ready for him. He practically whimpers when he feels how wet she still is, and she wiggles her rear at him, urging him to fill her.

He guides himself to her, pushing into her with one swift thrust, and Regina gasps, dropping down from her hands to her elbows so she can bury her face in the quilt. This position is better, he fills and stretches her perfectly, and each thrust has him bumping against her g-spot effortlessly. She moans into the blankets as he thrusts into her, and bites down when the next thrust is harder.

"God's Regina…" Robin's voice is strangled, his words catching as he ups the pace more, listening for the sounds that fall from her lips to guide him. "You feel…"

He stops, clenches his fingers at her hips, and she won't have him clamming up on her now, not when he's balls deep and pounding into her backside. "How do I feel? It's okay, tell me."

Regina tries to look over her shoulder, tries to see his face as he pushes into her harder and harder, pulsing inside her, but the angle is awkward, and it kinks her neck when she tries to tilt her chin.

Robin must notice her move, because he leans forward and wraps his arms around her chest, lifts her up until she's up on her knees with him pressed against her back, his fingers buried in her hair where he clenches his fingers, tugging at the dark locks with each thrust of his hips.

The new angle feels tighter, it's good, and she drops her head to his shoulder as she lets every sound of pleasure fall from her lips.

"You feel incredible," He rasps, "Hot and tight and wet. Fuck, Regina."

"You – ah – you're incredible too," Regina says between gasps, and ruts her hips back into his, her body almost bouncing against his. "Fuck, harder, harder."

Robin wraps his free arm around her chest, pinning her to him, and tugs her nipple between his fingers with a sharp twist, drawing a quick shout from Regina's open mouth.

Everything is pounding, pulsing, stinging, and it's glorious; she doesn't think, she just feels. Robin tugs and twists her nipple, and she reaches up to wrap both hands around his arms, digs her nails into him with each thrust and pull he gives her. The pleasure starts looping, circling from her nipples to her very unattended clit.

Robin's breathing becomes ragged, uneven, and he must be close, so Regina frees one of his arms from his grip and slides her fingers between her legs, pressing and rolling her clit. She tries to tell him she's close, that he doesn't have to wait for her, but she only manages a breathy "I… I…" before she tips over the edge, clenching around him as she falls forward, hands landing on the bed while Robin releases her breast to grip her trembling hips.

He pushes right through her orgasm, keeps pumping and thrusting hard and steady against that spot inside her, and she's seeing stars, can't form coherent thoughts besides fuck yes and oh God, and she's damn near screaming by the time he slows, finally spilling into her.

Regina collapses on the bed, and Robin flops down beside her, both sweated, sticky, and sated. She recovers before he does, and turns to look at him, props herself up on an elbow to watch as he lays beside her, eyes closed and chest heaving.

His neck is covered in angry purple bruises, with a few deep indents that must be from her teeth, and his arms have angry red trails down them from where her nails apparently broke his skin. His lips are swollen from kisses and his cheeks are flushed, and he's more marked up than she's ever seen him. He is hers, there's certainly no denying that now.

For a fleeting moment, as they lay silently in the after glow, Regina looks forward to the look on the little kitchen wench's face when she sees them tomorrow morning, the thief and the Queen, sporting matching hickies and bite marks.