Chapter Text
The first time Regina threw up, Emma didn’t think anything of it. Or, rather, she did think of it, and felt horribly guilty for giving her entire family food poisoning by cooking the night before.
But the next time it happened, Emma hadn’t been anywhere near the kitchen. And the next. And Regina clearly didn’t have the stomach flu, because it was only in the morning and she didn’t have any other symptoms, and there was something about that, but the savior couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
It wasn’t until she was at the store because Regina just had to have pickles, “Right now, Ms. Swan,” and decided to grab some tampons because it was getting to be that time that it hit her. When was the last time- Oh fuck.
**
“Um, Regina?” she began uncertainly as the queen wolfed down the pickles like she was starving.
Regina finished chewing before answering, of course, but didn’t seem very pleased at having to stop. “Yes, dear?”
“So, you know how you’ve been sick in the mornings, and having weird cravings? Um-” Emma gathered her courage. “When was the last time you had your period?”
“I don’t know!” the older woman snapped, her pickle-induced joy gone. Mood swings.
“I think it’s been a while.” Emma took a long, slow breath. “Is-” This was crazy. “Is there a chance you’re pregnant?”
“That’s not possible,” Regina snapped.
“I’m not- I don't- I don’t think you cheated or anything!” Emma sputtered.
“That’s. Not. Possible,” Regina growled.
“But it was magic?” Emma was genuinely confused.
“What was?”
“The dick-ies,” she amended as Henry popped his head into the kitchen, then rambled on, “Dickies pants work clothes thingies.”
“Moms?” Henry said uncertainly from the doorway. “Everything okay?”
Emma cleared her throat. “Yeah, kid.”
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I heard angry talking.”
“We’re just having a conversation, dear,” Regina assured him, then turned a murderous glare back on the blonde once he left.
“The penis I accidentally conjured!” Emma hissed in a whisper. “I know it didn’t have- you know- but it was magic. And I-” she gestured vaguely “in you.”
“I am going to say this again very slowly, Ms. Swan,” Regina said, low and dangerous. “It is not possible that I am pregnant.”
At this point, Emma was feeling disgruntled at the queen’s flat rejection of the obvious explanation for Regina’s behavior, and demanded, “Why the hell not?”
“My mother-” Regina paused.
A chill went through Emma. “What did she do?”
“No, I-” Regina took a deep breath. “I took a potion. I did not want to live through what my mother would do if I birthed an heir to your grandfather’s throne,” she finished in a voice totally devoid of tone.
“Oh. Oh.” Emma swallowed hard. “So you-”
“I made that impossible. Forever.”
“Oh.” She was torn between relief that Regina was not in fact pregnant and disappointment.
**
Emma let it go. If Regina said her body physically couldn’t become pregnant, then there must be some other explanation. Except that the cravings and mood swings continued. So did the nausea, made worse by Regina’s suddenly hypersensitive nose—and just Emma’s luck, she seemingly particularly keenly attuned to any hint of odor from the sheriff’s boots or underarms. And when Regina forbade her from touching suddenly too-sensitive breasts during sex, she knew she needed to try to talk to her about it again, because there were just too many symptoms to be a coincidence. But for now-
“Guess I’d better put my mouth somewhere else then, huh?” she hummed, grinning up at Regina, who gave her a small exasperated-affectionate smile.
The queen’s eyes fluttered shut and her smile widened when Emma began scraping her teeth down her belly as she moved to settle between her legs. As soon as she was in position, Emma immediately and eagerly pressed her mouth where Regina was wet and ready from earlier teasing. It pulled an “Nnnh” from the queen’s throat and made her back arch up off of the bed a bit.
When Regina’s back met the bed again, her eyes locked onto Emma. The blonde joyously rubbed her face against the older woman’s pussy, reveling in the feel of her, needing to get her tongue all over Regina and Regina’s wetness all over her. The queen moaned an approving, “Yesss” at her extravagance and gripped her hair to keep her close.
Switching to steady strokes, Emma caressed Regina’s clit with a soft, flat tongue, but couldn’t quite bring herself to go slowly. Soon she brought two fingers up to push inside and began fucking her deep and steady, and Regina gave a low moan and rolled her hips up into Emma’s mouth. The savior hummed happily and began swirling her tongue and curling her fingers. God, this felt good.
As if in response, Regina breathed, “I love how you touch me.”
“And I love touching you,” Emma assured her, reverently, as she pulled out and pressed inside with three fingers now. As Regina’s hips started to work harder, faster, Emma was sucking her clit now, fucking her intently, filling and stretching her.
Then Regina was coming, moaning, arching and shuddering and clenching around Emma’s fingers.
Emma watched her adoringly, stroking her through it. When she finally stopped twitching Emma kissed her cunt worshipfully and withdrew.
Then she steeled herself and crawled up to lay beside the queen, propped up on one elbow and looking down. “So, babe- Regina, you still haven’t-” She took a deep breath. “Bled. And you’re having all these unusual symptoms, and like, it all screams pregnancy.”
The queen’s jaw tightened. “Not this again.”
“Look, maybe the potion only protected you against natural pregnancy. That cock was supernatural.” She gave a half-shrug. “Maybe it, like, overpowered it.”
Regina raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you think so highly of your magical semen, dear.”
“Or, like, maybe true love fixed you?” Emma ventured uncertainly.
The response was immediate and explosive. “Excuse me? Fixed me? As if I was broken?”
“No, um-”
But Regina was working up a rant now, getting out of bed and dressing with angry, efficient motions. “Fixed me, like not bearing children is some sort of damage?”
“Of course not,” Emma insisted, bewildered. So much for an orgasm putting the queen in a better mood for this conversation.
“Good god, Miss Swan, I honestly cannot believe that you are trotting out tripe that women who can’t bear children are broken. As if pregnancy is all women are good for,” she spat.
“No, I- I’m sorry. You're not broken. There’s nothing wrong with not having babies,” Emma murmured, low and calming, as she rose from the bed and walked over to Regina. She didn’t touch her. “That’s not what I meant at all. You just- you did a thing that made your reproductive system not function in the usual way, but maybe magic made it function in that way again. Okay?” Regina’s posture softened just a little, indicating an opening. “Will you take a pregnancy test? Please?"