A/N: I got another smut prompt on Tumblr, Rumbelle this time, and yeah... Smut happened. I'M STILL NEW TO THIS OKAY? OKAY.

Rumplestiltskin couldn't stop touching her, couldn't stop kissing her, didn't want to pull away from her, even to breathe.

Belle clung to him just as tightly, pinned underneath him on the floor, and it couldn't be comfortable, hardwood floors with nothing soft between her and it, but she made no attempt to move, instead used their position to wrap her leg around his and pin him too.

He couldn't believe it. He almost didn't. Belle was alive. Regina had lied, had captured her, and hid her away, and now Belle was in his arms again, kissing him again.

She quite liked kissing him.

He really didn't want to stop, but if he didn't pull back soon, he wouldn't be able to, and there were lines, drawn firmly in his mind. True Love or not (and she was, and he was an idiot for pushing her away, a coward, and he didn't deserve a thing about her), there were some things that require patience.



He wasn't very focused at the moment.

Belle arched eagerly beneath him when his arm slid under her, his hand spread against her back where her shirt and shorts didn't quite meet. His fingertips traced lazy patterns on her skin and Belle gasped, her head thrown back, her creamy throat exposed and just begging for his mouth.

"Belle," he whispered against her skin. "Belle."

She was so soft, every bit as soft as he'd imagined all those years ago, but she was warm and real and in his arms, and please god don't let her ask him to stop.

Rumplestiltskin gently scraped his teeth along her shoulder, kissed his way back up to her jaw. She tasted pure, like light and rain. A man could get addicted to that taste.

"Rumplestiltskin," she sighed, and he waited for the gentle command, the subtle hint that she was done with him, but she merely kissed him again, gasping when he ran his tongue along her lips.

He groaned when she bit his lip. Belle removed his tie, tossed the silk aside and he jerked back, stilling her hands before they could tackle the buttons of his shirt.

"Belle, sweetheart-"

"Shh," she said. She pulled her hands from his, threaded them into his hair. "I want this." She kissed his neck, biting gently.

Rumplestiltskin wanted this too. He wanted her.

"We-" Seven hells, if she kept doing that thing with her tongue he was going to lose his mind. "Not on the floor," he managed to protest, pinning her busy hands between then when she unbuttoned his shirt.

"If we move, you'll find a reason to stop."

They should stop. He didn't want to- god he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his entire life- but they should.

Belle wiggled underneath him and, afraid he'd pinned her down entirely, Rumplestiltskin shifted. But Belle moved again, her hips moving against his (her heat pressing against him, making him burn with desire), and she flipped them, rising to straddle him.

He wasn't a strong man. He was weak, and powerless against her.

And when she leaned down to kiss him, he held her head and plundered her mouth. Lips, teeth, and tongue, scraping and licking and biting and sucking until she was gasping, moaning, shaking above him. Rumplestiltskin had done that. He'd given Belle pleasure at his touch.

He wanted to do it again.

Her fingernails scraped down his chest, drawing a broken cry from him. He hauled her up to claim her mouth again before she could follow the path with her lips, returned the favor on her back, and the sound Belle made nearly undid him right then and there.

"Belle," he gasped, and then they were skin against skin, her chest against his. She was impossibly soft and pure and he didn't deserve to even look at her. His hands stroked her flesh, his mouth following suit, and if Rumplestiltskin died right then and there he'd have no regrets.

He wanted her beneath him, wanted to explore every inch of her in the firelight, wanted to taste her, kiss her, claim her.

Rumplestiltskin rolled them, equal parts eager and afraid. Belle turned to examine the soft blankets she lay on, turned a questioning gaze to him.

"Magic," he explained, and then he couldn't speak.

She was beautiful, better than he pictured, better than he'd dreamed. His hands trailed down her face, her neck, to her breasts. Belle moaned, arching against his touch. She wanted him to touch her. Wanted him.

The animal part of his brain sat up and growled.

She tasted even better, soft and delicious, and she cried out when he scraped his teeth over her nipple, ran his thumb on the sensitive skin under her breasts. Her hands fisted in his hair but didn't pull him away.

Belle wanted more.

Rumplestiltskin kissed every inch of skin available to him- her breasts, her stomach, her shoulder, her arms. Afraid of it being too much at once, he rolled her onto her stomach and kissed his way down her spine, biting down on the spot he'd discovered that made her gasp.

She cried out, nearly rising to her knees. She brushed against him and they both stilled, marveling at the sensation. Belle could feel him, hard and hot against her thigh, couldn't stop herself from brushing against him again. He made a sound deep in his throat that sounded as if he was in pain before draping himself over her.

Rumplestiltskin bit the junction of her shoulder and her neck, teeth sinking into her skin, and she rose up, following the feeling, chest heaving with her desperate gasps. He was breathing just as hard against her shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses on her skin. She could feel his own chest rising against her back and wished she could see him. A hand slipped around them, trailed up her ribs to tease her breast.

"Rumple," she moaned. His mouth was on her back, his hand at her front, and she couldn't bear both at the same time. It was too much, not enough, pleasure with something missing, and Belle felt her entire body sing. Heat rushed through her, something pulsed through her veins, and she felt him shudder when she slid against him.

He tipped her head back, pulled her up to her knees and attacked her throat with his mouth, nipping and soothing, mouth hot and greedy. He kneaded her breast with one hand, circling the nipple but not touching it, and Belle bit her lip to stop the keen whine that wanted to escape her.

When his other hand crept up her thigh Belle slumped against him bonelessly, mouth hot against his temple as she desperately tried to kiss him.

Rumplestiltskin evaded her, focused on his hand beneath the waistband of her shorts, his fingers in her damp curls and then further down-

Belle went tight as a bowstring, gasping and writhing against him. Unable to claim his mouth, she drew his finger against her lips, sucking gently, mouth busy to try and keep her hips still.

But his clever fingers went to work where she wanted him the most, finding places she'd never known about, places that were now his. He drew her up quickly, then again, let her crest and cry out again, and then once more before she couldn't support herself on her knees any longer.

Rumplestiltskin pulled them down onto the blankets and kissed her hard. Belle's limbs felt like jelly, her heart beating a rapid tattoo against her ribs, but she still wanted him. How could she possibly want more after that?


Then his fingers were gone, replaced by his mouth, his tongue twisting and bringing her to the peak again. She bucked against him, screaming, arching so high only her shoulders touched the blankets. Rumplestiltskin plunged two fingers into her, desperate to have some part of him inside her, unable to actually be inside her just yet.

"That's it sweetheart," he said.

His voice.

"Rumple, please-" Belle didn't know what she should ask for, but she was near begging.

The climax swept through her, violent in its pleasure. It took several minutes for her to come down from the high, immediately releasing her grip on Rumplestiltskin's hair once she could focus. Her fingers uncurled slowly, like they couldn't remember how.

Rumplestiltskin trailed kisses up her body, pausing at her stomach, lingering over her breasts, until they were face to face again. Belle hooked her feet around his knees and pulled him against her before he could pull back.

She helped free him from his belt and pants, cupped him gently, and stroked him with curious fingers. Made him moan.


He crushed his mouth against hers, tongues battling in long sweeps. She bit down on his lip, sucked on the plump skin until he ripped his mouth away, biting his way down to her chest. Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on, her body knowing what it was meant to do, want it wanted to do.

He was marking her, his teeth leaving red patches over her porcelain skin, but with every graze, Belle gasped, and he couldn't bring himself to stop, not when it pleased her. What came next wouldn't be so pleasurable.

Once more. He wanted to bring her up once more before that.

Rumplestiltskin whispered into her ear- yes sweetheart, like that, please sweetheart, again for me- breath hot, fingers pumping, curling, touching, mouth and teeth and tongue everywhere, and Belle found the peak again.

She drew him against her before she was fully coherent, his hips resting against hers, twining her leg around his thigh.

Rumplestiltskin reached between them, held her gaze when he entered her, kissed her when she winced.

There was no pain. Belle wondered if he'd used magic to ease the pain, to make her not feel it, but she could feel him. Inside her, over her, against her.

She kissed him, mouth opening on a gasp when he rocked against her, pulling out slightly. He grasped her leg, draped it over his hip, trailing his fingers down the back of her thigh to raise her ever so slightly, and everything changed. She met him thrust for thrust, sounds falling from her lips that would have embarrassed her had she been in her right mind, but there was nothing but him and her and nothing else mattered. She felt the heat rush over her again, a soothing glow that calmed the fierce pleasure that had gripped her before.

Rumplestiltskin's lips touched hers, muffling her gasp. She swallowed his groan, raising her hips more, and he cried out, his final thrusts fast and clumsy. Belle cried out with him, clutching him, stroking his hair. She was glad to have been able to give him this, for him to take his own pleasure after giving her so much of her own.

But now Belle couldn't move. She couldn't even think about moving. If she even tried to wiggle her toes, her legs would fall off. She was sure of it.

Neither could catch their breath. They both shook, glowing in the firelight.

Rumplestiltskin found the strength to roll them one last time, to cover them with a blanket. He pressed clumsy kisses into her hair, ran his hands down her back and murmured "I love you" until they both drifted into sleep.