fondofapples | Inbox -- Genessia

Regina Mills
~~Queen~~ ~~Mayor~~ Mother
Sorceress
Fond of Plants

"You've reached the inbox of Regina Mills. Leave a message. If it's urgent, it's probably too late."

(text, voice, video, action, ooc planning if necessary for Genessia only)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

hellorhighwater

hey its neil

sorry it took me so long to get in touch

still trying to get settled in and get the fuck out of the common space

listen if youre not busy tonight

want to have dinner with me

From:

fondofapples

[ The first text is a pleasant surprise. By the time she gets to the fifth, she's annoyed. She hates having a boss as it is. Having one giving her the eyes every time her message notification sounds is not her idea of fun. ]

Figure out how to send the whole thing in one message 
and I'll consider it.

From:

hellorhighwater

[...goddamnit Regina...]

have dinner with me please

[Nailed it.]

From:

fondofapples

[ She grins, but she's going to push it, because of course she is. ]

Capitals and punctuation, please. I'm a queen, not a giddy debutante.

From:

hellorhighwater

[By the time she gets the text nearly five minutes later, Neil has had to forcibly stop himself from throwing the phone against the wall at least three times.]

If this is a test to prove my fucking patience with this stupid fucking phone, I've passed the trial. Regina, will you have dinner with me, please?

[And because he's officially cranky and feeling like a brat, she does get a second message. Just to buzz her phone.]

Will you also, please, never fucking make me do that again?

From:

fondofapples

[ She probably shouldn't, but she can't resist responding ]

It was a test to prove your patience with regard to fucking.

[ She likes a man who can exercise control over his desires. And occasionally hers.

A few minutes later, she picks up her phone again and texts a reply. ]

You passed. When would you like to have dinner?

[ Note she says nothing about not making him do it again. She won't probably making him text properly again, but test his patience with regard to fucking? No promises. ]

From:

hellorhighwater

[...oh goddamnit.

Laughing a little as he reads her message, he shakes his head and, just for a second, lets himself entertain a thought or two before he starts to answer--and gets a text before he can finish typing it.

If he spends about thirty seconds punching the air triumphantly, he'll never admit it.]

whenever youre free

[He sends the message...then grins at his phone and takes the time to send another message, picture perfect in its construction.]

For the record, I have no interest in fucking you. When I get you into bed, it's going to be a lot more than fucking.

And you're going to find out just how patient I can be.

From:

fondofapples

[ Regina rolls her eyes at his text and tucks her device into her jacket pocket to finish the potion she's brewing. It's the last she needs to finish, and, frankly, making potions to strengthen armor is making her think of him anyway.

She thinks maybe she imagined the notification of another text, and if she didn't, he can wait.

It's another three minutes before she adds the final ingredient and sets the apparatus to steep overnight. And then she's gone, stepping out of the shop and its fumes to inhale the evening air. Just as well she wasn't handling glass and volatile equipment when she checks the second message.

She coughs and then quickly looks around to see if her colleagues are paying attention to her through the shop window. As they're not, she gives herself a minute to enjoy the pulse low in her body when she reads the text again. Then she catches her bottom lip between her teeth and constructs a reply. ]

When you get me into bed? You're adorable. 

When I take you to bed, there will be fucking. Hot, hard, and thorough. 

And then if you're lucky, you'll find out how patient I can be.

[ Is she really going to send this? Oh why not? Neil knows where her heart belongs and if he arrives, then the texts
mean nothing. And if he ever does, Robin would want her to have what happiness she could find. Besides, her mother would never forgive her for sexting.

She sends it. ]

From:

hellorhighwater

[When he gets her response, he's suddenly very glad he's walking around in Everglade, with a cooler edge to the air while he's busy raising an eyebrow at his phone.]

Thorough, huh?

[Yes, he's muttering at his phone. And he has no idea what sexting is, but he thinks he can tell what this is.

So he leans against a nearby building and stares at his phone for a long moment, thinking about that night she pulled his heart out of his chest, that first kiss...

Grinning, he texts her back--and he makes the effort to get it right so she's sure to pay attention, even if it's about fifteen minutes before he's done typing it out.]

That's not hot enough for me. I want real heat. Your mouth on mine, you under me. I want to feel you need me, one slow second at a time. I want to memorize the taste of your lips and wear bruises from your fingers clutching at my shoulders. I want to run my fingers through your hair and touch your neck, to bite that soft skin at your wrist so you feel my teeth later, swallow every moan and sigh while you lose control of your own body and you start to writhe and shake.

And when you're there? Then I'll take you to bed. And if you're still thinking clearly, you can try to fuck me before I spend the rest of the night making it my personal mission in life to learn every single spot on your body that makes you fall apart. I promise you, Regina, I will win that particular race.

From:

fondofapples

[ She allows herself a few moments to be smug about her response, and then hurries off to the Amagi Inn in Fayren where she's staying until they have sufficient income to take over the castle. When her device buzzes again, she waits until she's safely in her room to check the response.

A quick flourish of magic shifts her into a silken robe, since she wants a shower if they're having dinner. Then she settles herself in the window seat to read what her new paramour has written. Here, surrounded by small touches of luxury and comfort, it's safe to think of him that way.

But there is nothing safe about his words.

Her pulse speeds and everywhere she is touched with shivers and flutters. She wants this, yes. Enough even to consider letting him have her. But it's that thought that's hardest. Most disloyal. To give him what Robin never had time to take for himself. And deeper still, it scares her. She knows what happens when they get that close, and this place is still too unstable. If she lets him in, she'll lose him.

She shuts the device down and forces her recalcitrant body up and into the shower. Once in, the heat of it reminds her of him. Of both of them. And then she gives way to a different sort of shudder, precursor to a sob, and then the ugly, sick weeping she has done whenever missing Robin has overtaken her since the day he crossed the town line.

It's different this time. This time, some of the tears are for someone else. Because if she isn't entirely ready to, she still very much wants him.

Her response comes a full hour after his message, and she regrets that he's probably worried he overstepped. He both did and didn't at all. When her message arrives, it's short and simple. ]

Can we discuss it over dinner? Tonight. Soon. I'll order up 
to my room. Amagi Inn, Fayren. The desk will be expecting you.

From:

hellorhighwater

[When he doesn't hear after about half an hour, Neil's pretty damn sure he's fucked up. Probably badly.

And yet he's not remotely sorry.

It's a wistful sort of tranquility as he finishes wandering through Everglade, sticking his nose in a couple of places before he starts to head back to Genessia City. If he's blown his dinner date (and any chance he ever had with Regina), he wants to make sure that Charlie can find him if she has nightmares again.

He's almost back at the Commonspace when she texts him back. To come to her place. For dinner.

Unable to wipe the smile from his face, Neil texts her back. With effort.

Ember's Balls, the things he does for this woman.]

Be there in half an hour, if that's not too soon. Just wanna leave word for someone about where I'll be.

[A lie, he wants to grab a shower and change.

...okay, and shoot Charlie a text.]

From:

fondofapples

[ She isn't sure what to expect from his response or what she wants from it. It would be easier if he decided she was too much work and said goodbye, but easier isn't better and she knows he won't and that she doesn't want him to.

Her smile upon reading his text is soft and a little sad, but everything about her is a little sad now. She responds quickly this time, to reassure him she's looking forward to the company, and adds a sharpness she doesn't quite feel. ]

Half an hour is perfect. Don't keep me waiting.

From:

hellorhighwater

The will of the gods upon my tongue, I won't.

[He gets back to his room, texting Charlie as he walks. He grabs the world's fastest shower, ties his hair back, and throws on a dark henley over some jeans before he starts for Fayren.

He makes it there in twenty minutes. Maybe with a little magical help, but he's not telling.

True to her word, he's expected at the inn when he arrives, and gets directed to Regina's room. Pausing at the door, he straightens the long sleeves of his shirt, smooths his hair back needlessly...

Then knocks on the door--and immediately realizes what he's forgotten.

The air might smell a touch of fire when the door does open--but that's the only evidence he's used any magic to produce the single red carnation in his hand that's meant for her.]

From:

fondofapples

In the time it took him to let whoever it was know where to find him, Regina restored herself to some semblance of her queenly poise. She messaged Evie to let her know she'd be in her room in an emergency, but she'd be turning her phone off, and no she didn't have time for an Evietervention on her style tonight. Besides, she didn't want Evie to see she'd been crying. Somehow Henry and Roland always knew, and she didn't imagine her daughter would be any less astute.

It was a conscious choice, the bolero jacket with its gold epaulets and martial flare. Something with a little strength and structure. But the dress in a shade of Spanish wine was an older, deeper impulse. One born of having a mirror as her only friend. It did good things for her eyes.

And they were smiling again when she answered the door, lit up with soft surprise at the flower in his hand. "Neil," she said in a voice that offered both genuine and intimate welcome. "Come inside."

From:

hellorhighwater

Accepting the invitation inside, Neil offered her the flower with a bit of a sheepish smile.

"I, uh--I know roses are more popular, but I've always liked these." He explained. "It's one of very few pieces of flora or fauna I've seen in both my world and the Five Realms. Never could remember what they called 'em in my world...'imitations' or somethin'."

Taking a brief, curious look around as she shut the door, Neil's gaze finally fell on Regina again, who somehow stole his breath and made his belly clutch with raw lust at the same time just by virtue of her beauty...and her relentless ambition when it came to trying to put him in his place.

He loved it, he just wasn't gonna stand for it. He didn't want to be in his place, he wanted to be somewhere better, somewhere closer...somewhere between stealing a piece of fire from her fingers over drinks and pinned to a wall with her fingers wrapped around his beating heart.

Before he could stop himself, he was moving forward, crowding her gently back against the door so he could cup her cheek in one hand, turn her face up, and slowly seal his mouth to hers for one delicious, oxygen deprived moment before he broke the kiss and ghosted his lips over that tiny scar at the edge of her upper lip, mapping that shallow ridge with a shaky sigh that curved his mouth into a grin.

"Sorry, I just...I've been wanting to do that since you started giving me crap with that first text message."

From:

fondofapples

That he repeated what he'd said to her in New Dodge brought the smile from her eyes to her lips, and she would have told him they were carnations and teased him. Would have, if there'd been time between inhaling the fresh scent of the flower (and the faint into of char and smoke that said his magic had been involved, which intrigued her and warranted discussion--later), summoning a bud vase for it to float to her nightstand to remind her of the gift in the morning, and him backing her toward the door.

The words of his second message, especially the assertion that an aggressive fuck wasn't hot enough, still resonated through her when his hand cupped her cheek. And she couldn't help being aware that this slow intensity was what he'd had in mind with the way he turned a simple kiss into a demonstration of his sensual power. The apology drew a shaky laugh from her--

"Don't apologize."

Her hands had moved to his hips and the break from his kiss hadn't stopped her from pursuing her own desires. Even now, she pushed his Henley up on her knuckles and found the ridge of his obliques with her thumbs. She stroked that soft, all but untouched skin, while her tongue chased the taste of his mouth on her lips, and her mind mapped the path of her fingers in anticipation of tracing it with her mouth.

"I've been thinking about you, too."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil couldn't stop the low, ragged sound that her hands tore from deep in his chest as they found his skin, tracing the line of muscle above his hips and driving the air out of his lungs with an intensity he'd never felt with any other woman. He'd been in his fair share of beds, but none of those women, even the most generous who worked for every coin, had hands like hers--fingers that formed fists that stung when they struck him, that fit so tight through his own when she reached for him.

Hands that tucked so perfectly into the gap in his armor that he'd shown her, filling it so it could never again be used against him.

"Yeah?" he managed to reply, head turning so his nose brushed along her cheekbone, then down so his mouth could find the joint of her jaw just below her ear, raking his teeth gently over it before he laid a kiss there--then did it again with a sweep of his tongue to taste her skin with another low sound of pleasure. "What've you been thinkin' about?"

From:

fondofapples

That raw, honest groan that tore from his chest ripped through her, tore away the callus she'd tried to build around her heart to protect her love for Robin. He was her soulmate, her True Love, her second chance--and yet, in less time than it had taken for her to let herself see him, Neil had slipped inside her and made her want him.

She closed her eyes and absorbed the sensual, unguarded affection of his nose against her cheek, and then gasped unprepared for the rake of his teeth against that so-sensitive swath of skin. And, oh, the way he told her with those pleasure sounds and the questing sweep of his tongue for the taste of her that she pleased him. She shivered, and as he'd promised, felt the first knots in her begin to unravel.

They weren't, probably, the knots he'd expected, not the ones that rendered her a sweet vulnerable mess under his hands and teeth and tongue. Instead, they were the ones that bound her hands and her heart that kept her from reaching for him fully. Her thumbs made another sweep of his obliques before she drove her palms up his chest, thirsting for the feel of him. She sucked in a greedy breath and turned darkened, desirous eyes on him.

"What would be hot enough for you," she answered, voice smoldering. It was true, even if she'd been thinking, too, about how that should be for Robin. In this moment, she chose. This heat, this passion, this need he pulled from her--it was for him. No matter how much it hurt to feel she betrayed Robin with it, this was about Neil. "And how much better it would be if we won the race together."

From:

hellorhighwater

It reached him in measures: the way she shoved her hands against his body to devour more by touch, the weight of her eyes on him when she looked into his face--the infinitesimal way she relaxed just a little, the sound of his own words being used against him.

She was mated, he knew that she was mated, and he was fortunate enough to remember just enough of a life among his own kind that he could not just want this, but try for it, be human enough to fight for it because human heart to human heart was not the magic of the dragons--it was a whole different kind.

Looking into her eyes, he saw that first flicker of magic--she felt the heat, but he saw the light in it, and he didn't feel the victory he thought would be there. Only gratitude.

Reaching up to run his fingers through her hair, sweeping it away from her face, he tried to find a way to tell her, to make sure that she understood he understood.

I know I'm not him. It's okay if I'm not. It's okay if I can't have everything, just let me have a piece.

The words wouldn't fit on his tongue, so instead he took her face between his hands and pressed his lips to her forehead, just for an instant, sealed the words against his skin before he let one hand fall to the side of her neck, fingers dancing over that slim column of skin while the other reached for one of hers.

Drawing back, he held her gaze for a second as he drew it to his lips, then shut his eyes and pressed a kiss to her wrist with another quiet moan of pleasure as his tongue flicked out to taste skin again, warm and sweet heady before he set his teeth there like he'd promised, catching that soft, thin flesh hard before he soothed the sting with his tongue--and did it again just because he could.

Just so he could hear breath grow rough and feel it in her body pressed close: every single promise that he made her being fulfilled with interest.

From:

fondofapples

Her skin that suffered the assault of teeth and tongue, but his body that moaned and felt it; she knew from being pressed so close with her hands on his bare skin that he flushed with heat from pleasing her, and there was something impossibly intoxicating about it his vulnerability to her pleasure.

Would it be the same for her, if she scraped her nails over the flat planes of his chest and caught his nipples under them? If she ran her tongue across them to soothe the too-sharp sting of it? She had to know, then, and shoved hard at his shirt with the back of her wrists to push it off of him, or at least far enough off him to hold it up with one forearm.

But she had to pause and look, appreciate the hard muscle beneath the flat darkened discs of his areola--his body was exquisite, better carved than any statue, and now she'd looked too long, because she couldn't let him suffer the scratch of her nails over his chest that raised his nipples without expelling her own breath in a harsh huff, or greedily pressing her mouth over him to taste the salt, musk, and fire on his skin with the flat of her tongue. She did it again, a second time, but had to force herself to stop before she sank lower to explore corner of his ribcage and the plane of his abdomen--before she pushed him onto the bed and they took turns feasting on each other instead of dinner.

From:

hellorhighwater

It felt a little like losing his mind when she shoved at his shirt, hiked it higher on his body to get to the rest of him like she couldn't get enough. He damn near spoke a spell to get rid of it, not even remove it just burn it the fuck up because it was keeping him from getting closer, but instead he just growled impatiently and yanked it off in one abrupt motion so he could breathe again, press in close...

The way she stopped and just looked stole what was left of his breath. The way humans looked at fully shifted dragons in the Five Realms, greedy eyes devouring magic and power and grace...he felt it in the weight of her eyes on his skin, minus the fear that came with that kind of awe.

She was unafraid as she touched him, nails on skin, mouth on flesh, sharp and hot and making more of those gorgeous fucking sounds full of breath and hunger. She tasted his skin and his arms went around her to keep her close, body to body, melting and electrified at the same time by every greedy sweep of her tongue that stripped another layer of his reason.

She was unfraid, hungry as he was--and still she stopped, forced herself to stop with a tension he could feel sing through her body as readily as his nerves sang and screamed to let her have everything, to dive into her with every sense without stopping until he owned. Every sigh, every moan, every inch of skin and every corner of her mind and heart and soul, until all of it was his and he could cast out every shadow that had ever darkened her path.

In that moment, he wanted all, and he had to stop just as much as she did, freezing with his arm cinched around her instead of dragging her down onto the bed, his hand cradling her cheek rather than tipping her head back so he could let the fire in his blood have him and just start consuming.

"Okay," he croaked, voice gone rough as gravel with the desperate ache for more clawing at his insides, "we're never gonna get to dinner if...if I don't back up now."

He tried. He really, really tried...but instead of backing up, he found himself tipping her head back and kissing her again, slow and full of heat...

"Actually letting go now." he rasped against her mouth when the kiss broke and contenting himself with just running his fingers through her hair--it was a little easier with the taste of her still fresh on his tongue as he looked down at her. "If you want me to, I mean."

From:

fondofapples

Oh sweet, beautiful fuck. Her thoughts scattered, torn away with his shirt and fluttered on a swirl of heated wind like ashes from a wind-disturbed bonfire. She felt the flutter-brush of every last one, like butterflies of flame, against her bared arms and cheeks and chest, as they fell away.

And she could see embers of her desire kindling in eyes, transfixed on her with raw lust. A swirling mass of contradictions, this man, who made words riven by his wanting, but touched her, kissed her slow, deep and full of slow, sweet heat that melted her inside and left her slick with aching, throbbing need.

They'd agreed to dinner. To discuss this over dinner, but there was nothing to discuss, no questions unanswered except the mundane--

"Are you hungry?" which didn't have a wrong answer, because getting food to the room would take time, and they could... hell yes, they could, make very good use of that time. Her eyes slipped closed over the slip-tug-glide of his fingers in her hair and she wound her arms around him, both hands turned up to rest at the middle of his back. "This will happen either way."

From:

hellorhighwater

"At the risk of sounding real fuckin' cliche? Starving, just not for dinner." Neil laughed breathlessly, transfixed by the way her eyes slid shut as he ran his fingers through her hair--breath catching audibly as her hands found a comfortable place against the middle of his bare back. It wasn't just that it felt good--that he wanted more of her hands, more of her mouth, more of the way she looked at him like he was magic and not just a wielder of power...

That look was oxygen, and without it he felt like he was suffocating.

He hadn't forgotten about how long it took her to invite him over, though--that hour where he thought he'd blown it. Maybe she needed the extra time...or maybe she didn't, not the way she held onto him.

"But if you need to...stop and eat first, I can wait." he assured her softly, leaning in to press his forehead to hers, just sharing her air for a second. "If you don't need to stop?..."

There were words. In his head, on the tip of his tongue--words that didn't involve an arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, or a hand sliding under the lapel of that pretty bolero jacket to start pushing it off her shoulder--slow, meticulous, giving her room to make him stop--but instead of words, that was what he did instead, watching her face as he started to slip that fabric over her shoulder and down her arm.

From:

fondofapples

"It wouldn't be stopping--" Just like she wasn't stopping him from undressing her, one sleeve at a time, slow and deliberate and giving her plenty of time to choose a different path. "More like planning ahead and possibly suffering a brief interruption."

She freed her hand from his back to help him ease the jacket off that arm, even though it would be just as simple to banish it all together. It might have been just as simple, except that his hands on her were a hell of a distraction and hers on him, an unending temptation.

"At the risk of being unattractively pragmatic, food doesn't always summon well, and you will be hungry before you leave here. We both will." Since by now she was nearly 100% certain that 'when he left' would be sometime tomorrow.

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil didn't think she was capable of being remotely unattractive, pragmatic or no, so the remark just made him grin as he finished stripping that bolero jacket off her shoulders, dropped it on the floor, and ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, just...looking. There was no part of her that wasn't begging to be touched, she was just that fucking hot, but 'hungry' was an understatement when it came to how much and how badly he wanted her.

Wanted to look, wanted to touch--Ember's Balls, his stupid text message was a drop in the fucking ocean of what he wanted with this woman.

For the moment, that was dinner and literally everything else, so he took a deep breath to calm his hammering heart and nodded through her magnetic pull, nose brushing her forehead, one arm still wrapped around her waist.

"Okay. Let's get the ball rolling on dinner, then." he agreed...then grinned and burrowed a hand into her hair as he bent to steal one last kiss, taking his time with going deeper, tasting her, running his fingers through her hair and finally settling his hand against her nape before he had to stop just so he didn't pass out from lack of air.

"Okay." he panted, loosening his hold on her, that smile still plastered to his face. "Now let's get the ball rolling on dinner."