A/N: Blown away by the love this story keeps getting here and on twitter. You guys are truly the best. Micki, you asked for it, this is your chapter, yes, the one you've been waiting since July 2015. Hope you enjoy it thoroughly, and also, those sneaks peeks I've been sending you since August? Well, let's just say that's not exactly what happens here, but something better. Sorry! Hope you guys enjoy this, I've laughed, cried, and laughed again while writing this chapter. I've become horribly attached to my version of Robin and Regina and ahh, I love them too much. Anyways, please enjoy this! I can now confirm that we only have about 4 chapters left of this story, and it's both painful and unbelievable. Enjoy!
A/N: I also want to thank the gorgeous Kseniya ( ouater on Twitter!) for making a cover to this fic and making me feel like I'm part of the cool kids! Thank you so much! I can't stop looking at it! THANK YOU!
Warnings: (:
|Chapter 11|
|Catharsis: Part Two|
She loves Daniel, she really does.
But when he walks into the hotel's restaurant, tanned and a grin plastered on his face, she feels the sudden urge to go away, far away from here, away from these people telling her congratulations every two seconds, away from Mary Margaret's chants of how much fairytale-like your wedding will be, Regina!
So before she yells at the guests to shut up, let her be, or demand explanations to Daniel, Regina simply moves towards to the back wall and unnoticed leaves the restaurant until she's in front of the elevators. She's about to press the button when an olive skin hand closes over hers. Nerves bubble in her stomach, anxiety too and she turns to the body on her right, only to crumble at the sight of him.
"Daddy," she mutters, eyes welling up with tears at the small smile on his face, that storm brewing inside of her obviously unknown to those around her.
Except to Robin, of course, and the knowledge sends a pang through her chest.
Henry reaches up with his left hand, catching a stray tear before he caresses her cheek.
"What's wrong my little princess?" He asks, voice coated with concern.
Regina simply shakes her head and offers him a small smile, not wanting to worry her father. So she turns her head to the side and drops a kiss to his palm. "I just have a small case of cold feet, that's all," Regina offers, winking at him as he nods to the elevators in understanding.
But he doesn't, no one does, except Robin of course.
"Ok, go, I'll send him up when I see him."
She should tell him no. Should tell him that it's from Daniel and his family and this whole wedding that she's running away; but she can't do it, not when he's looking at her with so much pride in his eyes, undoubted love.
At that moment the elevator dings and Henry nods to it.
"Go, I've got your back."
And then several minutes later, when the fresh air has managed to calm her down, the door behind her opens. Regina closes her eyes and sighs, knowing full-well that her alone time has been cut short by her fiancée, the person her father had undoubtedly sent up.
But instead she's met with the sight of Robin, smiling at her as her eyes water in both surprise and relief.
• • •
Henry Mills studies them, from afar, the way Cora's spine straightens —even after Robin's left. The way Daniel's eyes shine with bewilderment at something his wife asks. Then Daniel gives her a small nod, folds the paper he has in his hands and hands it over to Cora. She says something, to which Daniel replies with a nod once again and turns back on his track, heading over to where one of his friends is.
Cora simply swallows hard, looks down at the folded paper before she tenses, immediately feeling a set of eyes on her. She turns to her side now, her grimace once again on her face at Henry's discontent and questioning look.
"Cora," he warns, from a couple of yards away.
Cora remains stoic, calm composure, eyes devoid of emotion looking at her husband with a blank stare. Henry simply shakes his head, walks closer to her until he's standing in front of her.
"What are you doing?" He asks, shaking his head, composure fracturing at his wife's sudden tearful look.
"She's my daughter and I'm doing what's best for her," Cora replies, mask coming back up.
But before Henry can reply, Cora slips the piece of paper into her clutch and quickly heads over to where Daniel's family is.
Knowing this conversation will continue later that night in their house, and finding no one interesting enough for him to spark a conversation with, Henry turns around and walks out the restaurant and through the lobby of the hotel. The bellman opens the door for him and he kindly nods at him. Once outside, he heads a couple of feet away from the main entrance, Henry takes a deep breath and reaches inside his tuxedo pocket. He pulls out a cigar, a lighter from the other one but before he can light his cigar up, the door a couple of feet from him opens up.
Henry recognizes his daughter immediately, leaning slightly into Robin's shoulder as she tries to hold back her laughter, to no avail. Instead, what begins as a low chuckle, turns into full blown laughter and Robin trying to shush her, looking behind him to assure they're alone. Henry hears his daughter mutter something, and Robin smiles, grabs her hand tighter in his and he glances around the street to assure there isn't someone who knows them. Finding the coast clear, Robin pulls her to him, both of them walking hurriedly down the sidewalk, away from the hotel.
With a smile on his face, Henry turns the other way and walks away from the hotel.
It isn't lost on him that Regina's also his daughter and he's also doing what's best for her.
• • •
Her hand in his, fingers intertwined, a smile ever present on their faces, Robin pulls her into the elevator and excitedly pushes the button with the L in the middle. Then he turns to her, offers her a small smile which she responds eagerly.
They're not sneaking out.
No
But when the doors of the elevator open, and they're met with the spacious lobby, Robin pulls her behind him, Regina immediately chuckling as he takes his job serious and crouches in front of her, hands straightening on his side as he tries to shield people from seeing her.
Under other circumstances, it would've worked, well, not really, people would've looked at them weird… but the lobby only have a handful of people tonight, none of them invites to her rehearsal dinner.
Yet he turns around, pushing her into the wall behind her when a teenage girl walks past them.
"Robin," she chuckles, her insides buzzing at the prospect of getting to witness his playful side again after so many years.
"Shh, m'lady has to be sneaked out of this hotel, and I'll do everything in my power to achieve that."
With that, Robin turns around again, hand reaching for hers as he points towards a hall to the right of the elevators. Feeling giddy once again, Regina chuckles and rolls her eyes. On their tiptoes, Robin and Regina head down the hall, they pass a couple of people, who obviously don't know them, laughing all the way until they reach the back exit. Robin stops dead in his tracks, looks behind them again in his most serious face before he pushes open the door, humming the Pink Panther's theme song and Regina loses it, leans into his shoulder once they're outside and just laughs.
"Thank you," she murmurs, takes a deep breath as the laughter ceases and she just stares at him once again.
But Robin simply smiles, holds her hand tighter and hurriedly walks down the street.
They're far away from her apartment, a good thirty minutes if they walk at a brisk pace, but neither cares, nor did they hurry, not in her high heels. Instead they walk side by side, slowly, hands together, enjoying each other's company for these last few hours.
They don't talk.
Instead they bask on the familiarity of things, and their mind travels back in time. To walks like this made in London. To walks like this around his mother's estate, Regina always in awe of the beauty of the countryside. To walks like this one of those nights in Germany, around the streets of Heidelberg. And while the memories hurt them a little bit, they don't dwell on them too long. Instead, when they reach the first liquor shop, he decides to get them some alcohol, intent on mixing her a few of her favorite drinks. And when they reach Regina's favorite organic shop, she decides to get them some food, intent on cooking him those spinach ricotta cannelloni he loves so much.
And it's painful, yet relieving.
For both of them, to go back to simpler times (to some extent). Back when heartbreak, betrayal, and soon approaching weddings didn't exist. Back when there was only them, no Marian for her, no Victor for him. Back when John was still alive, she was still in London, and they were living together under the same roof.
And the prospect is exciting.
As soon as they arrive at her apartment, they head to the kitchen, leaving their shoes somewhere on the track there along with his bowtie, who Regina removed carefully, rolling her eyes at his bored expression.
And it's like they've never parted, both of them working together, knowing each other's routine so well. They're in tune, Regina focusing on the marinara sauce while Robin focuses on the cannelloni filling. Occasionally she reaches over, sampling a bit of it as he does the same, and they smile, a small thing, nothing really, before they go back to the task at hand. Soon enough the cannelloni are in the oven, both with a drink in their hands as they just stare at the floor, suddenly nervous at the change in atmosphere.
"So," Robin begins, always the ice-breaker, as he reaches behind his waist and untangles the apron, letting it rest on top of the island.
Regina just stares, gives him a questioning look as he slips his hands into his pockets and shrugs at her.
"Don't tell me you plan on spending your last night as a legally single woman cooking and not having fun."
"I'm having fun," she shrugs, moves towards the oven and crouches down to look at the cannelloni. They're perfect, cheese melting at the top, but not yet done. So she stands and fixes down her apron and dress.
Yet she feels Robin's eyes boring into her back, so she sighs and turns to face him.
"What?" she asks on a sigh, exasperated, and rolls her eyes at his shrug.
"I just figured since you didn't want a bachelorette party that, I don't know, perhaps it meant that you had something fun planned but—"
"I didn't and I don't," she shrugs and bites her lower lip. Perhaps under different circumstances she would've loved to get shit-faced wasted, would've loved a stripper, dildo shaped ice cubes and such, but not now, not this time. Instead she just wants to truly, truly cherish and enjoy these few last moments with Robin.
Regina had known from the beginning, that she would rather spend the night before her wedding playing catch up with her best-friend instead of at a club getting wasted. And she doesn't regret it, never will, but Robin is looking at her with concern, and a questioning look.
So she sighs and decides to tell him.
"I just wanted to spend my last night with you." Regina smiles, a full blown smile with teary eyes because this is now real, only a few hours left and the thought is excruciating.
To say goodbye to Robin until God knows when.
To say I do to Daniel until death parts them.
But Robin smiles, excitedly, as understanding as possible and then there's a change in the atmosphere, his smile turning to a grin and Regina eyes him curiously.
"What," she says, arching her eyebrow as he pushes his hands into his pockets.
And then he begins to move to an imagined beat, head first, from side to side, and then his shoulders up and down, up and down and Regina snorts at him and shakes her head, always used to that silly side of him. Then he begins swaying his hips from side to side, that shit eating grin on his face still and Regina just laughs, laughs at this wonderful man who goes out of his way to make her laugh; laughs at this wonderful man who—
"I have a feeling that our night's going to be a good night," he sings, loudly, out of tune, his hips moving from side to side quickly to the rhythm of his imaginary song, raising his eyebrows at her and that damn shit eating grin there.
"Those are not the lyrics, you know!" She amusedly yells at him over his loud chants.
Robin simply shrugs and continues singing (yelling) as he hops over to her with the rhythm, signaling with his hands to join him and Regina just shakes her head.
"You're crazy."
"You wanted to spend your last night with me! Robin Locksley! Your maid of honor! Your best friend! Now come, join me in this classical dance!" He yells and for a minute he stops moving, and then he suddenly jumps up and down, up and down as the bass drops in that damn song he has in his head.
"Stop it," she says with a laugh, but she doesn't really mean it and he knows it. So instead of stopping his dance, stop making a fool of himself, Robin hops closer to her, grabs her by the arms and begins moving her from side to side, trying to get her to dance with him.
"I'm not going to dance," she says and then rolls her eyes at his pouty lips.
"Amuse me, Regina," he pouts.
And Regina shakes her head once again and rolls her eyes, but the smile is ever present, and that look he gives her is enough to make her pull away from his hold, walks the small trek from the kitchen to the living room and turns on the stereo.
"But this should be done with real music," Regina calls over her shoulder and the stereo breaks into some 80s classic rock. Robin lets out an excited whoop from the kitchen before he practically runs to the living room, gathers an amused Regina in his arms and just sings his heart out.
• • •
Two empty plates on the coffee table, a bowl devoid of any vegetables, a bottle of wine and several other drinks either half full or completely empty; her coffee table is a mess, but a mess she'd gladly clean every night if it gives her this easiness she feels whenever she's with him.
Rock songs still travel from the speakers, volume lower because it's nearly one am. They're comfortable like this, side by side, couch behind them as they just look straight ahead, her hand in his as they both take comfort from that simply touch, the knowledge that right now they're here, next to one another, enjoying each other's company after those harsh words earlier that week.
"Do you have any regrets?" Robin asks from her side, low, swallowing down the lump that's in his throat, the caress on her wrist halting for a moment before it continues its slow touch.
And she doesn't have to think twice about his question, for she has them, she knows this, but admitting it to him is a whole different thing, and tonight nonetheless. So she allows herself this, to rest her head against his shoulder and intertwine their fingers, to cuddle closer to his side and stay there, nuzzling his neck for a moment.
It's intimacy, an intimacy they used to share many years ago. An intimacy that they've missed, to stay wrapped in each other's arms as the world disappears around them. She stays quiet for several moments, her exhales a constant warmth against his neck.
"I think," she begins, thumb slowly caressing the top of his before she continues, "at one point in our lives it's only normal for us to regret something."
He nods his head in silent understanding, chin resting on top of her head. Until Robin lets out a huffed breath and shakes his head.
"But isn't that the point of life? To live it fully with no regrets?"
And to that, Regina has no reply except a slow nod.
"Yes," she confirms after a moment, the acceptance, the knowledge of just what she regrets enough for tears to well up in her eyes.
They stay like that for a few moments, eye overclouded with emotions as Regina's gaze travels around her apartment until they land on the dining table to their far right. It's filled to the brim with bags and pairs of shoes, flowers and what not, and the realization dawns on her.
"I'm getting married in a few hours," she mutters, tears welling up in her eyes for the umpteenth time that night and she feels Robin nod against her head, then turn his head to drop a kiss on top of her head.
Maybe it's the small movement, or the feelings his simple kiss elicits in her, but it becomes too much for her, and quickly, Regina pulls her hand from the warmth of his, stands from the floor and begins gathering the plates and bowls from the coffee table, quickly hurrying into the kitchen.
"Regina," Robin calls out softly, concerned, truly, at the distraught look on his best friend's face.
But Regina merely waves him off, and places the dirty plates on the sink.
He goes behind her, rests his body against the island as he watches her back. She's trying to ignore him, ignore everything and focus on the simple task of doing the dishes, but Robin knows her better than this. It kills him, it has for these past few weeks, knowing that she's forcing herself into doing this when she's not as comfortable with the idea as she once was.
"You know, Regina," he calls out, and Regina tenses in front of him, spine straight, head moving to the side as she awaits for him to continue. "You don't have to do this."
"I think I do have to wash the dishes," she mutters, turns the faucet on again and starts scrubbing that already clean plate.
And she scrubs it furiously, harsh, her hands moving quickly over it and Robin just bites his tongue, not wanting to lash out on her.
Instead he waits for her, knowing that her breaking point is near, after all, he knows her.
And there it is.
One moment she's scrubbing imaginary grease off a ceramic plate, and the other she's dropping the plate into the sink —miraculously, it doesn't break— and then she turns around quickly, a frown on her face.
"You know what my problem is?"
He doesn't answer, instead he crosses his arms in front of his chest, and waits, allows her to vent, lay her inner thoughts and feelings on him.
"I love Daniel."
The word stabs through his chest, but he ignores the pain, focuses on her instead. She offers him a smile, a small bittersweet thing before she continues. "And that should be enough. It should be. But I find myself questioning everything I do with him. I find myself sacrificing things that I swore I'd never do. And then there's also the fact that the people I truly care about don't agree to this, except my mother, and it's just…" She shakes her head, furious with herself, furious with this openness she always has when he's around.
And she's suddenly exhausted, beyond so, with hiding herself behind walls, hiding her true feelings and she just looks at him, a traitorous tear falling from her left eye.
"I'm marrying Daniel tomorrow, and I don't know if I'm making the right decision," she sobs.
"Regina," He murmurs, suddenly feeling an unexplainable sadness course through his veins at her vulnerability.
It isn't lost on him how during these past two weeks all he's focused on has been his feelings for her, on her feelings for him, on the feelings they elicit on each other… but never once did he feel the need to step up his game as a maid of honor and really consider her feelings with all of this.
No
Not unless it met his own selfish agenda.
Not unless it was to make her rethink everything
And it pains him, the knowledge, the realization that never once did he consider listening to her, truly, without feeling his own selfish need for her. He never once considered being there for her, as a friend, just that.
Not as the man who's hopelessly in love with her.
Robin knows, deep down, that he shouldn't feel guilty for this, for being in love with her, but he can't help but be disappointed by it, because by being in love with his best friend, his judgement has been clouded, and simple things that would've been resolved quickly had those feelings not existed, now only get even more complicated with every breath, every look, every word she says.
"Robin," she calls out, eyes clouded with emotion. "I called you when this whole thing started, I asked for advice, I asked for help." She stops herself, just stares at his blue orbs, before she swallows hard. "Now I'm asking you face to face, as your friend, as the bride to be. Do you think I'm making the right decision in marrying him?"
A beat goes by.
A moment in which the only sound in her kitchen is the sound of their breathing. Robin just swallows hard, the tension in the kitchen now thick enough you can cut it with a knife.
"No," he answers, truthfully, without thinking, knowing that even if he hadn't been in love with her, the answer would've been the same.
Regina closes her mouth and simply stares at him, surprised at his answer and even more distraught with herself.
But he doesn't say anything else, and instead Regina shakes her head and turns to face the sink again, face crumbling with new emotions.
He calls her name, slowly, tentatively, but Regina simply shakes her head and scrubs that damn plate harshly again.
"Regina!" Robin nearly yells, his patience wearing thin, emotions overpowering him, that voice in the back of his head telling him over and over again that this is it, that he has to do this now.
He can't take this anymore, can't keep up this façade around her any longer, not after what she's confessed, not after what he'd said, not when he's hours away from them parting their respective ways.
So when she turns to him, the same anger and hurt reflecting all over her face, their eyes meet, and he feels the tension die, the calmness return, and sees Regina's face softening the moment his does, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Regina," he whispers. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he moves closer to her, reaches for her face, and just holds her in place.
A beat goes by.
Another one.
Before he's shaking his head, tears gathering in his eyes, knowing full well that it is now or never, that he can either win her or lose her.
But he's tired, beyond so, of sitting in the sidelines, of seeing undeserving dickheads getting what he knows it's been crafted for him. Selfish or not, there's just so much one can hold.
Robin shakes his head again, swallows hard, his thumb now caressing the softness of her cheek before he's offering her a small bittersweet smile. "I love you," he whispers, a traitorous tear falling down his cheek as his eyes scan over her features again, studying her, from the glint in her eyes, to her parted lips, a true beauty who only deserves the best things in the world.
For a minute she stays that way, staring at him, waiting for him to continue, waiting for him to say something, anything.
But instead he just keeps looking at her, with those expressive eyes, full of pure unbridled love.
The silence speaks volumes to her.
"What," Regina lets out brokenly, a traitorous tear falling down her left cheek and landing directly on his thumb, Robin caressing it away.
He shakes his head, eyes never leaving hers, and God, she's gorgeous, all open to him, all trusting, and he just repeats the words again on a tearful chuckle, relief flooding his veins at finally being able to express himself.
"I love you Regina. I always have."
And the words break her, because she's closing her eyes, shaking her head in reply and just steps away from his hold. Shock is clearly written all over her face, jaw slacked, deep breaths coming from her as she tries to make sense of the situation.
He calls her name, and she turns her head to the side, facing anything but him.
"No, Robin, no you don't," she whispers in denial, shaky hands moving to her forehead as she breathes in and out, convincing herself that this is not real, this is just a made up scenario of her imaginative-stressed-out-cold-feet brain.
Yes, that's definitely what this is.
But one look, one look at him is enough confirmation, and she sobs, an actual sob that would've been embarrassing under other circumstances, but not this, not when his confession has just broken through the walls she's built around herself. Not when his confession has just taken her back to years ago, to leaving him, to Little John, to made up excuses, to Marian.
Marian
And she rambles without thinking clear. "No, Robin, no, you loved Marian. You told me how much she meant to you. And I stepped back, I couldn't—"
"Regina," he calls out, that open expression on his face, but most importantly that love, that small glint in his eyes that turned her to putty right there and she feels it again, that warmth in her belly, spreading, spreading, spreading.
Hope
Hope for a future with him.
Hope to allow herself what she had wanted all those years ago.
And Robin reads through her, like he always does, before he moves closer to her.
But she panics, shakes her head and closes her eyes, trying to prevent herself from choking on sobs, from puking, from throwing herself into his arms, cry there.
"No! No, Robin." Regina shakes her head, trying really hard to forget his words, to forget everything, to fly, to leave this all behind and just fucking be happy and carefree once again in her life.
"Regina," he calls again, softer, tentatively, his eyes searching hers. He's reaching for her arm now, trying to hold her in place, trying to calm her down.
But her eyes are clouded with emotion, her mind gone back to so many years ago that when he touches her cheek, trying to bring her back from memory lane, she pulls away from him quickly, as if his touch has just scorched her entire being.
They just stare at each other, no one saying a thing, and Robin sees something in her eyes switch, a change, a small glint of hope before she shakes her head and turns around on a sigh.
And when Robin calls her name desperately, she lets out a tearful I'm sorry.
"What for?" He demands, frustrated.
And she replies with For everything before she runs down the hall and to her bedroom.
But Robin? Well, he's tired of letting her run away.
Immediately he follows after her, and there she is, alone in her bed, head resting on her palms as she sobs her heart out.
"Talk to me," Robin begs desperately, the silence coming from her after his confession scaring him. "Make me understand."
And what's the point of hiding behind broken walls now? Regina takes a deep shaky breath, before she opens her mouth.
"You chose Marian," she simply says before she's shaking her head again and swallowing hard, staring straight ahead.
"I never chose Marian."
"Yes you did, Robin! That night, after you came back from that trip with your father, that night you chose her," she seethes, standing up, pointing at him as her eyes meet his.
Robin shakes his head, bewildered. "I don't follow—"
"I loved you! I've loved you from God knows how long, and that night, that night I was going to tell you. Little John had known, all along, and I just, God Robin, I opened myself to love, convinced myself that loving you was the best decision I could ever make. I was so hopeful, so genuinely happy—"
"Then why did you tell me to go forward with Marian!" He interrupts her, seething, frustration written all over his face at the knowledge that they could've had this, he could've had her all those years ago, that they wouldn't have gone through if she simply hadn't convinced him to move forward with Marian.
"I was hoping you wouldn't!" She yells back, the same anguish and frustration written all over her face. "I wanted to be someone's first choice, and I wanted that someone to be you! But I wasn't, I wasn't your first choice and it killed me, it still kills me."
There are tears running down her face, but she's never looked more beautiful to him.
There are sobs coming out of her mouth, but her lips have never looked more kissable to him.
Robin knows that he's crying too, at their lost opportunity, mad at himself for listening to Victor all those years ago, of believing her façade years ago and moving forward with Marian, not realizing just how badly he broke Regina.
And suddenly there's the image of her, alone in their loft, dinner gone cold, and that calm stoic look on her face, the walls building up around her heart as she once again convinced herself that she'll always be the second choice, the great lay, a sex toy he could get to play with whenever he wanted.
Everything makes sense now.
Her drifting away, her guilt when Marian called things off, her desperation every time they had sex, not allowing him to look deep into her eyes, afraid to trust him again, only allowing him to fuck her senseless, mark her, make her his in the only way she could allow herself to be.
"Regina," he calls softly, voice breaking, his eyes connecting with hers, tears still falling from both their faces, and he moves closer to her, Regina staring at him intently, until he's mere inches away from her. "I never had to make a choice, it's been you, always."
She shakes her head, eyes closing as his words wash over her, tears running down her face.
God, he loves her, all of her.
It claws around his body slowly, the overwhelming need to be with her, the overwhelming need to touch her, kiss her, so he moves his hand towards her cheeks and caresses there.
Regina leans to his soft touch, allowing herself this small thing, but needing more, much more.
Then she opens her eyes and meet his again, and there's a change in the air, the atmosphere growing thick with tension. Her eyes, as always, are drawn to his lip, wondering, missing them, and suddenly their eyes meet, with that openness, that pure unadulterated love.
That is all it takes.
One look, one look into each other's eyes and they know, they absolutely know they've been fighting an already lost battle.
"I'm sorry," he whispers because this is wrong, this has repercussions, but at the same time it feels so fucking right, and they haven't even kissed yet.
But they will, oh they will because Regina is biting her lower lip as she stares at his, she's taking in shaky breaths every time his thumb caresses the corner of her mouth and when the last tear rolls down her eye he catches it with the pad of his thumb.
A beat passes.
Then another one.
Until they both throw caution to the wind and lean in tentatively to catch the other's lips. She whimpers against his lips almost immediately, the feeling of allowing herself this becoming almost surreal, and Robin breaks the kiss, always afraid he'd pushed too much, always taking her feelings into consideration.
"No," Regina whispers, breath mingling with his and she closes her eyes before she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him towards her, his lips smacking straight into hers.
It's different this time, more passionate, more needy judging by the way Robin's arms pull her incredibly closer to him. Her teeth scrapes his lower lip, pulling, biting and suckling before meeting him completely and burying her tongue inside, tangling it with his.
This, this is what's perfect, this is what's right and when the need for air becomes too much, their lips part with a plop, their foreheads touching, breath mingling.
And when their eyes meet, shiny gaze, Regina bites her lower lip and openly, unabashedly, says.
"Make love to me Robin."
The words take him by surprise. Not the fact that she'd uttered them, no; the relief that floods through him at her request is what takes him by surprise.
The love, the warmth, the acceptance on her face.
And he just forgets about their situation.
He forgets about his honor, because while he may be an honorable man, he's also a man in love, and the feelings those five words elicit in him are indescribable.
So he allows himself this.
Her
He gives in to those feelings, every single one of them, and simply kisses her with more fervor than before.
Suddenly that proves to quench nothing, and instead he traces her lower lip with the tip of his tongue, and delves into the welcoming warmth of her mouth. Probing, sampling, savoring every moment he has left with this beauty, his Regina.
But then she's nibbling his lower lip, catching it between those full lips of hers and Robin is gone.
Instead he's met with the urge, the lust, the utter need Regina always manages to make him feel, and in a second, his hands travel down her back, lower, lower, down her buttocks, lower until he's met with the hem of her dress. Unashamedly, he reaches for the skin beneath the lace dress, and he caresses it lovingly, up and down, up and down, goosebumps raising all over her skin all the while his mouth continues its assault on hers. Regina moans against his lips, lowly, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip as his touch travels to her ass, palms settling there before he playfully massages the lace covered skin there. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, tilting her head to the side to gain more access into his mouth, and their kisses have always been passionate, but nothing quite like this, no kiss has caused them to feel that pull in their hearts, that flutters in their bellies, spreading, spreading, spreading.
The need for air becomes too much, and their mouths part, both panting, eyes closed, foreheads touching. They stay that way for a moment, breaths mingling, hearts beating rhythmically, his hands still palming her bottom in a loving caress.
And then their eyes open, gaze fixated on each other's, open, loving, hoping.
Robin brings his right hand from under her dress, his touch warming her skin, and he reaches for her cheek, caresses her rosy cheek in a loving matter, before he's reaching for her hair, the soft locks traveling through his fingertips and he sighs, traces her nose with his before he drops a small kiss to her forehead.
"I—"
"I know," she sighs, eyes closing again, tear falling from her eye.
Robin sighs too, hot breath washing over her and Regina just shakes her head, before she leans in, lips barely touching him, waits for him to meet her fully.
And he does, tilts his head to the side and captures her lips with his fully.
Her palms travel down his chest, lower and lower, Robin sighing against her mouth as she untucks his shirt, her movements slow, measured, calculated. Her fingers reach for the buttons, and slowly she undoes each and one of them. With each button she unhooks, the desperation grows, the need for each other. He breaks the kiss, Regina's sound of displeasure turning into a moan the moment his lips attach to her jaw, moving lower, lower, down her neck, following an imaginary track up towards her pulse point. Robin's lips nibble and tongue darts out for a small lick and the warmth there is enough to make her legs a wobbly mess. With shaky hands, she reaches the last button at the top, thankful he rid himself of the bowtie as soon as they arrived here earlier that night, and he stops the assault on her pulse point, places open mouthed kisses along her jaw, up her chin, up, up, up until he reaches her lips again, nibbles, before he meets her fully. His left hand still planted at her bottom, he pulls her closer to him, as his right hand moves from her hair to the back of her neck, moving down her upper back until his fingers find the zipper of her dress.
And he stops there, left hand on her ample bottom moving lower to safer skin, giving her time, space, letting her know that he won't go forward if that's what she wants.
But Regina just hooks her fingers through the belt loops and presses herself against him. Chest to chest, mouth devouring his completely as her hands travel from the waist of his dress pants, upwards, upwards, upwards, until they reach his shoulder blades, pushing his shirt down his shoulders with the movement.
"We need this," she whispers against his lips. Because they do need this, they have to allow themselves this after years of buried feelings. After years of ignoring, forcing those feelings into a locked up safe tucked safely inside their hearts, only for it to burst years down the line.
For Robin, this is confirmation enough, so he allows her to slip his shirt off. He stand bare chested in front of her, her dark orbs traveling down his torso and she bites her lower lip, always affected by the ripples of his muscles. His mouth closes over hers again, her hands going to his chest, his winding around her back, moving upwards, upwards, upwards until his fingers land on her zipper. This time, without giving it a second thought, he undoes it, brings it lower, and lower, their lips meeting over and over again until she's left in nothing but her underwear. Immediately, his palms settle over the curve of her ass and Regina reaches for his neck, pulls him down for another mouth searing kiss, never wanting to part away from his lips, before she's climbing onto him, his palms now under her buttocks to support her as her legs wrap around his waist, never breaking their kiss.
Robin feels her, already, her lace covered heat against his lower belly and his cock twitches painfully in the restraints of his pants.
He's dreamed of this for years, of feeling her heat engulfing him again, of feeling those slick walls clamping down on his cock as she mutters her love for him. And the fact that he's here, his dreams about to come truth, is enough to make him chuckle against her lips. Regina's about to break the kiss, ask him what's wrong, but Robin bites her lower lip and splays his fingers under her, fingertips coming close to where she needs them the most and Regina sighs against his mouth, melting into the kiss again.
They've been through this several times already.
Kisses
One night stands.
Complicated routes.
Countless of smiles.
Countless of tears.
Goodbyes
Goodbyes
Reunions
Heartache
All to end up here again, with her in his arms, mouth glued to hers.
Robin walks the short trek to her bed, and gently lays her down, his knee on the mattress to keep his balance. He breaks their kiss and leans back, quickly makes work of his belt and pants, Regina sitting up in front of him. Before he can utter a word, Regina hooks her fingers into the waistband of his boxers-brief, that glint of pride in her eyes the moment she has to stretch the waistband wider to release him. At the sight of him, thick, throbbing, moisture around his head, Regina bites her lower lip, gazes up at him as she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra.
But his eyes never leave hers.
And hers never leave his.
She throws the lace garment somewhere to their side, but Robin simply leans down and captures those kiss swollen lips for the umpteenth time, gently pushing her down until her back touches the soft mattress.
He's addicted to her, to her kisses, to those soft moans she lets out every time his fingers caress the underside of her breasts —just like she does this moment. His thumbs reach higher until they come in contact with her perk nipples, always marveled by how perfect they feel against his touch. He circles them, cock throbbing with the soft mewls and groans that leave her mouth. Soon he's breaking their kiss, kissing his way down the valley between her breasts, mouth heading towards his right, kisses the underside of her breast, that soft skin there, that unique taste of her skin. His tongue darts out and Regina sighs, then he moves up the swell of her perfect breast to catch that tempting nipple in his mouth and her back arches, her eyes close and she pushes her right hand through his sandy blonde hair, fingers closing around it the moment his teeth clamp shut around that tight skin.
"Robin," Regina moans, her hips now moving on their own accord, trying to get some sort of friction down there too.
But he ignores her calls, instead feasts on her perk nipples, groaning at finally getting to do this. Soon, and without uttering a word, his right hand travels from her breast, touch skimming lower and lower down her side until he reaches the hem of her lace undergarments. He follows the hem towards the front as he suck on a nipple eagerly, before letting it slip through his mouth with a loud plop. He stares at her then, at the way her chest heaves, at the way her perfectly carved breasts move millimeters from his mouth with every breath she takes, at the light sheen of sweat that's staring to cover her skin, at her bottom lip being caressed by her own tongue. And the temptation is too much, the addiction too strong. Robin leans in, takes that lip between his at the same time he pushes his hand inside her panties, and Regina mewls against his mouth, rolls her hips to get his hand to go lower.
And he does.
The moment his fingers touch her heat they both moan, her at finally being able to feel his fingers again, him at finally being able to do this. Touch her, tease her, please her. He circles her entrance, teasingly, slowly, probing her wetness; but she's more than ready, has been for quite sometime now. And yet, Robin feels the unexplainable desire to keep building her up, to tease her, to taste her, to get her up and up and up; worship her, love her the way she deserves to be loved. He eases in one finger first, growling at the slickness that coats his middle finger, then he adds another one, the tightness he feels around them enough to make his cock twitch against her thigh, a drop of pre cum leaking from the slit and suddenly Regina's hand is closing around him, strokes him to the same rhythm his fingers move in and out of her.
But they need more of each other.
So he breaks the kiss and pulls his fingers from her depths. He moves his kisses down the length of her body, alternating between licks and nibbles, until his lips reach the hem of her panties.
Their eyes meet again, and this is it, there's no turning back.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her panties, and without breaking eye contact he brings them down slowly, all the while dropping kisses on the newly revealed skin. She helps him slip the lace material down her legs, shimming them down until she's completely bare beneath him. Robin's hands find anchor on her thighs and he caresses them slowly, thumbs moving in a loving matter as he spreads her open for him, exposing her completely, mouth hovering over her center.
And he breaks their gaze, feeling the urge to look at her sex, bare to him after many years. He groans, eyes darkening, her arousal intoxicating his senses because she's as perfect as ever, all slick and throbbing.
Suddenly nervous at the sight of him between her legs, Regina bites her lower lip, her cheeks tinting in the most adorable of ways and Robin's gaze meet hers, his orbs darkened by arousal, and he simply shakes his head at her before he offers her a smile.
"There's no need," Robin murmurs, not breaking her gaze.
And it's his accent, his kindness, his care, that has her clit throbbing in anticipation, another gush of heat coming from her center and Regina nods, suddenly feeling at ease, trusting, warmth spreading through at the way Robin's gaze travels the length of her body again.
She's even more beautiful than he remembers, from her perfect breasts, perk nipples, down her toned abdomen, to that thin neatly trimmed strip of hair that leads down to nirvana.
And those eyes.
All open, expressive, brown orbs he wants nothing more than to drown in them for the rest of eternity.
"You're breathtaking," Robin sighs, gaze fixed on her as he lowers his head and drops a kiss just shy of her center.
Regina sighs, eyelids closing the moment his tongue darts out, warm mouth moving lower and lower, hands on her inner thighs squeezing and releasing until his warm breath hovers over her dripping center.
"Beautiful," he whispers before her gives her a tentative lick, tongue firmly moving from her entrance, upwards, upwards until it lands directly on her clit, her legs trembling under his hold and he closes his mouth over the bundle of nerves, sucks at it earnestly.
Regina groans, right hand tugging at his sandy hair, a deep moan leaving her lips the moment his mouth pushes into her center greedily, tongue tracing her entrance before he's thrusting it into her warmth. Robin pushes his arms under her thighs, legs now resting on his shoulders, mouth devouring her sex completely.
Her taste is addictive, it's always been and will always be.
He alternates between firm presses of his tongue and quick nibbles of his lips, groaning immediately as another gush of warmth graces his greedy mouth.
But that's not enough, and even though he's not complaining —never will, not when his tongue is greedily probing that sample that's uniquely hers and made specifically for him— he knows that his tongue alone doesn't do the trick, not to her, no matter how sensitive nor how built up she is. So quickly he slips his tongue from her entrance, drags it lazily through her slick heat and firmly presses it against her throbbing clit again, circles it one, two, three times before he flickers his tongue from side to side, quickly. And she groans, fingers tugging at his hair, thighs trembling against his cheeks as she holds him in place. She mewls at his light scrape of teeth, a small sexy thing that has Robin releasing a deep guttural growl against her center, and she bites her lip at the vibrations that sends through her.
His lips
That occasional scratch of his trimmed beard against her sensitive folds.
And God
That skillful tongue of his, rubbing, licking, sampling, firmly planting against her clit in a way that makes her shout, tremble, her hips moving against his mouth, searching for more, always looking for more when it comes to doing this with him.
Robin adds a finger to the equation, halting his attack on her clit, dropping soft kisses to the bundle of nerves. Regina sighs at his firm finger inside of her, pushing in and then out, teasingly, a slow build of pleasure. Then he adds another one, eases them both in slowly, tentatively, smiles devilishly at how easily they slip in, at her stomach tensing up, her fingers at the top of his head unmoving, chest heaving as the pleasure intensifies.
He's always loved to do this to her, to watch her come apart in his arms, to feel her, see her, taste her as her body slowly, but surely, gets closer to the edge, closer to oblivion.
Robin curls his fingers inside of her, a shout of pleasure immediately moving past her lips as his fingertips firmly press against that toe curling spot inside of her. And he sucks her clit eagerly, with more force than before, fingers inside of her turning, probing, moving inside and out firmly, her slippery arousal coating his fingers.
He lets out a breath against her sensitive clit, the warmth there making her insides clench around his fingers.
And it's too much for her, his deft fingers, his warm mouth.
Her jaw slacks, hand opens and closes around his hair, right hand going to his cheek between her legs, stays there unmoving.
"I'm gonna—" She begins, but never ends, for words fail her.
Regina doesn't need to voice it though, for Robin knows her, knows her body, owns it, owns her soul, and the moment her thighs tense against his cheek, hand pressing more against it, her whole body going taut, Robin just looks at her, mouth still focused on her clit, fingers deep inside her slick heat. He stares, always entranced at her beauty, always in love with the way breathing fails her for a moment, face scrunches up in pleasure as her jaw slacks, a drawn out moan from deep within moving past her lips as her body comes alive under him, trembles, shakes, broken moans leaving her lips as she skyrockets over the precipice. He pulls his fingers from her, her hand moving from his cheek to rest against the mattress. His mouth immediately travels south and attaches to her folds, laps at her, Robin groaning at that unique taste he's been blessed to savor.
And this is what he loves the most, the calmness that comes after, the soft nibbles of his mouth, soft licks, soft kisses that slowly, but surely, bring her down from that pleasurable high. He stays there several moments, licking her clean, breaking apart from her scorching heat to drop kisses to her inner thighs at the same time he lovingly splays his hands over her ribs, caressing there, mouth moving once again to her center, avoiding her overstimulated clit.
Regina enjoys the softness of his lips against her center, the slow caresses of his fingers against her torso, the loving way with which he kisses her inner thighs only to end up again back at her sex. The sight is overwhelming, and yet it calms her, to see him so focused, so intent on bringing her pleasure, of showing her with actions how deep his feelings for her run in him. It relaxes her, opening herself up to him, allowing him to feast on her even though her high has already left her pleasantly warm, that never-ending buzz all over her limbs.
And yet she wants more.
When he lets out a breath against her center, tongue darting out to lick her folds again, she wants more, she wants him, inside of her, filling her, making her whole again. So she tugs at his hair a little, him frowning at being pulled away from her sex already, but she just forces her trembling thighs off his shoulder and pulls him towards her, a satisfied grin on her face.
He crawls up her body slowly, mouth open, panting, an unquenchable thirst for her. Arousal clouds his vision, the need to feel her hitting him suddenly, to have her, to bury himself deep inside of her and forget about their past, their future, and focus instead on the now, their present.
Robin meets her awaiting mouth immediately, lips locking, tongues probing, Regina tasting herself on his lips, Robin tasting that sweetness of her lips. Where there once was gentleness now it's only a shadow overpowered by their desire, their passion, their addiction to each other that began many moons ago, stopped abruptly by her parting.
But relapsing into one's addiction is always stronger, it elicits new feelings in ones bodies, more powerful; the same feelings overpowering them, clouding their judgement.
"I need you," he whispers after a second, lips pressed to hers, breath mingling with hers.
Regina swallows hard, opens her eyes at the same time she reaches for his cheek, thumb caressing his dimple. She drops a peck to his lips and nods, her legs opening wide for him, feet planted on top of the mattress, his hips now comfortably nestled between her legs, the tip of his cock barely touching her slick heat.
Without breaking their gaze, she deftly reaches down between her sweat slicked torso until her hand wraps around him, so close to her yet so far away.
Robin breathes through his nose, tries to hold back from thrusting into her tightly closed palm. Regina gives him a few strokes, twisting her wrist on the way up, and Robin groans, lets her know just how much he needs her right now and she places the tip of his length against her clit. She circles her clit teasingly, Robin groaning for he's barely touched her slickness and she's already driving him insane. But quickly she changes the ministrations on herself, slips the tip up and down her wet center and he near shouts at that simple feeling, at that slick warmth he's missed so much. Regina smiles devilishly at him, before she positions him at her entrance, the tip barely in, allowing him to take that final step into her awaiting body.
He simply stares at her, rests his weight on his elbows on each side of her head. After a moment, Robin leans down, captures her lips again, agonizingly slowly, and when he parts, he reaches for her cheek with his left hand, caresses her as he slowly sinks home.
Her face scrunches up in pleasure with every inch he buries into her welcoming body.
His face twists in pleasure, guttural groans leaving his lips as his cock slowly, but surely, gets encompassed by her tightness, her slickness, her throbbing heat.
Electricity shocks through them the moment he buries himself to the hilt, and a sigh leaves both their lips.
"God," he chokes out on a broken gasp as her body slowly adjusts to him, fitting him like a glove. "You still feel amazing," he moans out, his eyes closing on their own accord as he pulls halfway through from her heat only to thrust back in slowly, her walls fluttering around him.
She mewls under him, moaning out an God, you too before she's pulling him down for a mouth searing kiss, her hips rolling under him, coaxing him to move.
And he does.
Goodness grief he does!
Deep long strokes, not too much but not too little either, and this is the way she likes it, this is the way he likes it, when the pleasure builds slowly, when the touches, whispers, looks, are all shared mindlessly, both of them enjoying the act of being united as one after so fucking long.
But his soft kisses earlier had built her up again, the soft drags against her clit with every deep thrust enough to make her putty in his hands again. Unintelligible words come from her mouth quickly as her body tenses once again under his, the deep coil in her belly tightening, walls fluttering around him.
He knows the signs like the palm of his hands, but he doesn't change the pace, instead slows downs a little, letting it simmer a little more, letting her moan in frustration under him, chest heaving, hairline sweaty, eyes showing how frustrated she feels right this moment. Robin merely grins at her, winks at her huffed breath when he pulls out almost completely and she's about to say something, but as soon as her mouth opens she lets out a loud drawn out moan for he chooses that moment to thrust deliciously into her again, the ghost touch of his length against her clit making her close her eyes. He continues moving that way, dragging it, allowing her pleasure to gently build up, building himself up in the process. Broken gasps move past his lips with the way she's slowly starting to clench around him as her body slowly prepares for that mind blowing release.
And this time, he doesn't stop.
This time he's intent on watching her again as she comes apart under him and all around him.
The flutters start around his length, and even though he's close to oblivion himself, he's intent on enjoying her to the fullest. Regina's tensing under him again, breath becoming labored, head trashing to the sides, back arching, hips eagerly meeting every single one of his long thrusts. Resting his weight on one shoulder, he reaches for one breast, pinches a nipple at the same time his mouth lands on hers, lips touching, hot puffs of air mixing with his. He doesn't stop, instead thrusts into her harsher, his tongue thrusting into her mouth just as her walls begin to clench around him. Her whole body tenses underneath him and he stills, intent on feeling all of her, before she groans against his lips, trembles under him, hips moving greedily under his still hips. She moans against his mouth, Robin groaning against her, to feel her come apart around his cock making him even more addicted to her, and while several moments ago he'd planned on worshipping her all night, her body is becoming too much for him.
The soft mewls that have his breath heaving.
The slick heat that has his cock throbbing painfully inside of her.
Her warm slick release all over his cock that have him constantly slipping easily in and out of her body.
And the way she keeps rolling under him, his legs trembling at the movement. That's proof enough to him that he's closer to the edge than he thought.
"Fuck!" She lets out loudly against his lips the moment his hand travels down the length of her body, anchoring to her waist and holds her there. He breaks the kiss, leans back and away from her body, resting his weight on his knees. The back of her thighs now touching the front of his, Robin holds her down, muscles on his back rippling as he tries to hold back, to worship her a little more.
But this is becoming too much, it's intoxicating him and he don't trust himself, so as he holds her down, he thrusts into her heat again, more fervently, more , fast strokes that have Regina's chest heaving, toes curling against her mattress, back arching as she receives as much pleasure as she can.
Robin's fairing no better, the friction around his cock making him growl with every thrust, tip hitting that spot inside her that makes her weep and sends electricities up his spine. While first the pleasure had built slowly, now it travels through him in never ending shock waves, waves that have no end, waves that travel from where he's buried balls deep inside her throbbing heat.
He feels the unmistakeable pool of warmth low in his belly, knows he'll go over the edge with her this time, so he doesn't hold back. Thrusts into her more quickly, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with rhythmic thuds as he pounds deeper into her. He hits that same spot over and over again until Regina's babbling nonsense, until black spots cover his sight. Until the only working senses in him are the sense of hearing and touching, for she's clenching deliciously around him, crying out a Robin, I'm coming again and he lets go at the same time her walls clamp down on him, her release coating his cock for the second time that night and dripping to the sheets under them as he lets out a drawn out groan, hips gripping her in place as he spills his own release into her, her release milking his cock dry.
His movements slow down to a stop, broken groans still leaving their lips at the sensation, and he leans down, pants leaving both their lips, sweat slippery skin pressed against one another, her perk nipples tightly pressed against his chest, yet he simply stares at her.
At the sweat beds that travel down her hairline.
At the tears on her eyes.
And it's like a fog has lifted.
Her warmth still surrounding him, slick body pressed to hers, breaths mingling, their eyes cloud over with emotion; a sense of awareness filling them to the brim.
But before Robin can say something, before he breaks that delicious connection between their bodies, Regina reaches for his cheek, thumb stroking his dimple in a loving matter before she leans in, lips barely touching his, waits for him to meet her fully like she did earlier that night.
And he does.
Signed,
Not-so-Cruella
