#sheriffsaviour

… threesome? ;P

The only thing I can see is Regina’s choice of lingerie… and I approve.

sheriffsaviour |  send me a ‘✉’ for five times my muse didn’t text yours, and one time they did. imma pretend it’s about this cuz more fun

         unsent{ text: swan } please drive into the nearest wall{ text: swan } but keep the signs safe{ text: swan } what would you do if i was to take away the one thing you love the most?{ text: swan } admit it. you can’t hold you liquor.{ text: swan } there was no wolf

sheriffsaviour | ✘- for a text that was meant for someone else

how do you have that many threads? And how do you manage to keep your quality so damn high while you do. Tell me your secrets please and thank you that I may learn your mystic prowess.

//idk how I sobbed for years when I saw how many I had. I -still- have 30 in drafts xD

sheriffsaviour

When Emma found herself stuck, nay shoved by persons she would track down and have very stern words with later, into the closet with Regina, her first reaction was regret; regret that she hadn’t had more to drink. She and Regina were caught in another cycle of the endless loop that seemed to be their default state of being — Emma having done or said something to upset Regina and Regina, well, being Regina about it.

In the hope of ending this particular loop sooner than later — or at least not making it worse — Emma had kept away from the hard stuff as much as possible in order to keep as clear a head as possible should she find herself face to face with Regina. 

Like now     in the closet     again. 

That seemed to be another part of their cycle. It probably meant something magical was going on. She would have put even money on it being a curse. 

Either way, Emma steeled herself for another of Regina’s laundry lists of her personal defects and started working out her apology so she’d have it ready once the brunette was done talking. Which may be why Regina’s confession didn’t fully sink in until the both of them had sunk into the pile of coats and why it took several seconds after that before Emma realized her hands were holding Regina by the waist.

Mostly holding

Maybe a little pulling

Mostly pulling

Emma yanked her head back to the sound of a thud dulled by the cushion of jackets between her and the wall followed by a gasped, ” ‘Gina?”, the ‘Re’ lost somewhere between their lips as the kiss broke. 

"Whuh- I- You- We kissed?"

Regina's breath is caught and her lungs feel like they're on fire, hips pressed tightly against Emma's even when the blonde's lips pull away. Lips that taste like cinnamon and alcohol, though Regina's not entirely sure if the burn is from her own tongue. Their lips are both bruised and there's no need for a dim closet light to know her eyes are dark, lingering on Emma's mouth, breath pushing her chest up in a quick rhythm. 

Emma's question is outrageous because that was no simple kiss. Regina doesn't think a kiss could sear life into her veins even through the slightly heavy feeling of her head. Make her not pull away even though a very sobering fear of understanding of what she's just done--idiotically admitted--is settling on her shoulders.