Prompt: Anon said, “What may have happened after the Rumbelle reunion kiss in the finale. Smut
Author’s note: Yeah, we all know I like the smut (and the everything else.)
Mr Gold is the mask who speaks little and means it when he does, who commands respect and stands strong in his castle even as Storybrooke collapses around him, but Rumplestiltskin is the man beneath who takes comfort in his True Love and who mourns his lost boy behind closed doors.
Anon prompted: Rumple gets hit on, Belle is having none of that
It was for the three-sentence fics, buuuut I ran with it anyway. SO HERE HAVE SOME DARK CASTLE FLUFF IN THE WAKE OF THE FINALE. YAYYY.
He didn’t know how Cora had gotten out of Wonderland, and that was the worst part. If he could just figure out—was it Jefferson? Regina? Some way of reversing the mirror?—he might be better able to cope with the fact that she was standing in his foyer, making herself tea in Belle’s cup.
“Rumple, calm down.” Belle pleaded from her position leaning against the stair railing on the first floor as her husband rushed about like a madman. The bag they’d prepared in advance of Belle going into labor was slung over his shoulder with all the things they’d likely need, yet he was still rushing about as if the world was ending. “What are you even looking for?” Belle called up the stairs.
“The blasted car keys are missing.” He called downstairs. “And I had a pouch of remedies for the birth. Wolf’s hair for strength and protection…currant to ease the labor pains, an apple for health…” He trailed off and she could hear the sound of him ransacking the upstairs floor.
“Rumplestiltskin, get down here this instant! We are not using magic to help me give birth to our child!” Belle snapped, wincing as a twinge of pain (a contraction, she realized), hit her. “Magic comes at a price and I won’t have our child paying it. Just take me to the hospital, please!” She begged as her husband poked his head over the staircase.
“No, no, it’s not for a magic spell! They’re innately magical items with naturally imbued strengths.Quite different than magic spells!” He explained with strained enthusiasm.
Still // Rumpelstiltskin & Belle
I really don’t know how much more I can say besides that. This one is for all of my wonderful Rumbelle shipping followers, thank you for being here.
A special shout out to Zoe, Marchie and Chip for watching and helping me when I wasn’t sure if this video was going anywhere.
She needed to dig deep into her travelling chest to bring out the underwear that belonged with her wedding dress. It was so horribly restrictive that she had never worn it again, the boned corset which had been so carefully made to lift her bosoms to the neckline of the white dress.
Summary: Belle is no princess, but then Rumpelstiltskin is certainly no prince. His price is her hand in marriage. Alternate Universe.
Status: Work in progress.
I will see you again.
true love’s kiss
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: After her banishment from the Dark Castle, with few options to choose from, Belle decides to see the wonders of the world for herself. Unfortunately, life is made up of difficult choices. With little means to her name, Belle soon finds herself crossed into another deal, far crueler than her first, and learns that no price is too high for a poor unfortunate soul.
Notes: I have never been so proud of a chapter for a story.
The deals touched by death were the most potent, found in the nights he spent wrapped in heated magic, pouring over tomes and scrolls, tinkering with enchanted artifacts, and doing everything in his unseeable power to rid himself of the memory of soft auburn hair and eyes bluer than a frosted sky.
Such a little woman, a winsome and sparkling bit of light that held a mountain inside her like magic he would never understand, but he had made a deal. Though dissolved, he gave his word. Her family, her friends would all live.
Once they begged him for it, of course.
Anonymous asked you:He takes her from behind while they overlook the town from the windows of her apartment over the library.
Golden Lace. Pre Emma or Cursed Memories. Whathaveyou. Cut for smut.
The promo pics have given me so many Golden Lace/Rumpled Lace feels. I want to write all the dirty things.
As the clock strikes eight, Mr. Gold stands up from her linoleum table and yells, “That settles it—we’ve completely missed our reservations.”