#fluffapalooza 2023

[milaeryn]

Kiss me again, it's working ✨

I think I've never get tired of drawing Rumbelle fanarts... This is my fav moment of OUAT. Happy Skin Deep day to you all!

[jackabelle73]

Content Rumbelle #1

Her soft laugh made him look up from his spinning. 

Belle sat by the fire, curled in the comfortable chair that he’d conjured from elsewhere in the castle, and nearly engulfed in a thick blanket made from thread he’d spun on this very wheel. Her eyes were riveted on her book, and she was smiling. She turned the page and laughed again, then looked up to see him watching her. 

“Was I too loud?” she asked. “I hope I didn’t bother you.” 

He smiled back, a genuine smile that felt foreign and yet somehow right. “No. You’re not bothering me.” 

[lenific]

@violetfaust asked for "map" for @fluffapalooza

Set in the Dark Castle. AU where Belle returns to the Dark Castle.

---

In Rumpelstiltskin's experience, female laughter during an intimate moment preceded ridicule and burning humiliation. However, he bit down the reflex to say something cutting first.

Belle didn't deserve the reaction other women had earned.

Instead he forced himself to relax and gather her closer, a shadow of relief soothing him as she came willingly, allowing him to lay a sleepy kiss against her bare shoulder. "Something funny, my love?"

He felt her shake her head.

"I just thought of something silly," she said, a giggle to her voice. "Nothing serious."

He nodded, barely awake.

The spell that helped him stave off sleep indefinitely had been sacrificed into the protections that allowed Belle to kiss him without stealing his power.

"I read about this, you know," Belle continued, the playful wiggle against his body leaving no doubt to her meaning.

He managed a chuckle. "Shocking."

Distantly, he felt a twinge of bemusement that this sweet girl had worn out one such as he. But then, he reasoned, she was young. Her time back under his roof had brought back her strength, and she would never lack for daring.

On the other hand, Rumpelstiltskin had spent too much of his energy ensuring that he never regretted kissing her again.

It had been meant as a little surprise.

She had wholeheartedly approved of his choice of gift.

If it had crossed his mind, even for a moment, that their kiss would give Belle the impetus to all but haul him to her bed, perhaps he would have arranged for different accommodations. But he had been too surprised to do anything but follow her lead.

Her amazing... enthusiastic... surprisingly creative lead.

That should have clued him in. Of course Belle had done her due research.

"Best idea ever," Rumpelstiltskin said, nuzzling her neck happily, "to give you that library."

He was already at the edge of sleep, when Belle spoke again. "Did you know that most women don't enjoy their first times?"

His eyes snapped open, and though he refused to believe that this would be a prelude to a list of his failures, he couldn't help but hold his breath until she spoke again.

Oblivious to the shift of his mood, Belle continued, "I honestly expected I'd need to draw you a map. Or maybe hand you a manual." She laughed again, turning over so as to face him, and luckily giving him the time to arrange his features into an indulgent smile. "I told you it was a silly thought."

Rumpelstiltskin kissed the spot between her eyes before leaning until their foreheads touched together. "I wouldn't mind it, you know. Might give me an idea or two."

He felt her blush even as she gave a happy laugh and confessed. "I might have a draft already."

The End

12/02/23

[shadowedoracle]

Fluffify this: “I never want to see you again!”

"I never want to see you again!" Gideon yelled at his mother, as he stuffed a handful of his his toys into his wagon on top of the large pile of picture books already there.

"That's a shame," replied Belle casually from the front doorway.

"Never ever ever!" He added for emphasis, casting an angry look back at her as he marched for the handle of his wagon.

"Oh well," Belle said.

Gideon started pulling his wagon down the driveway, his head set in an angry determined position very reminiscent of his mother when she was angry.

"I guess this means there'll be more ice cream cake for your father and me," Belle called when he'd almost reached the street.

Gideon paused and looked back at her, a hint of indecision appearing on the four year old's face.

Belle turned towards the inside of the house, "You hear that Rumple? Loads and loads and loads of ice cream cake, all for us from now on."

There was a squeak of wheels from the driveway as Gideon turned his wagon around and made his way back to the house.

"I'm only coming back because you are so mean you don't deserve ice cream cake." He told his mother, marching back into the house in high dudgeon.

"Of course Sweetie." She replied closing the front door and listened to the sounds of her son angrily scraping his chair away from the kitchen table.

She made her way to the living room. "Did you get all that?" She asked Rumple as he pulled his arm back in through the open window.

He pressed something on his phone and grinned at her , "every second of it."

[violetfaust]

Hey, guys? LIP is almost a decade old...can we get this post to 100K notes before 2024? (Considering that the version where they erased delint's credit has something like a million...)

Love is Purple.

[abovethemists]

Tea and Roses

Summary: Two months after moving away from Storybrooke, Belle receives a surprise visitor. The conclusion to priest!Gold fic, Brimstone and Mistletoe.

A/N: This was supposed to be posted for Fluffapalooza, but *shrug emoji*. 

AO3 Link

*

The whistle on the kettle trilled through the small apartment, and Belle rushed to take it off the burner. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Gideon was alright. He let out a happy little squeal from his spot on the rug, waving the little soft crinkle book in his fist.

Belle let out a sigh, pouring the hot water from her kettle over the teabag in her mug. It was a Sunday morning, and she was trying to do something she hadn’t done in ages: relax.

She left the tea to steep, going back to the living room to sit next to Gideon. He wasn’t much for tummy time, but the pediatrician said it was important for his future development. He seemed content for the moment though, so Belle leaned back against the sofa at her back, watching her son.

Gideon rolled himself onto his back, giving Belle a gummy smile and her heart clenched. At five months old, he was starting to look so much like his father. His eyes had darkened from newborn blue to an achingly familiar warm brown. The little dimples that blossomed on his cheeks when he smiled, the soft brown color of his hair, every bit of it screamed who his father was to anyone paying attention. It was part of the reason Belle had moved to Boston in the first place.

Only part of the reason though. It was true that Storybrooke had seemed a colder place once it became impossible to hide her pregnancy. But even that hadn’t driven Belle from Maine.

She just couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t catch his eye across the street, she couldn’t see him in the shops or at the diner, and pretend he meant nothing to her. She was sure her face betrayed her anytime they did happen upon one another. It was why she’d stopped going to church. It was why she’d avoided him. She would ruin him, and she loved him too much for that.

Belle leaned down to press a kiss to Gideon’s chubby little cheek before helping him to roll back on to his tummy.

“We’re not done yet, Gid,” she chastised him gently. Gideon let out a little fuss and Belle moved a few of his favorite toys in front of him to distract him. Then she took the five steps to the kitchen to fetch her tea.

The apartment wasn’t much, just a one bedroom flat and even that was stretching her paycheck to its limit. They’d need a bigger place as Gideon grew, but for now it was enough. He slept in a little cot beside her bed, and Belle liked the excuse to keep him so close. She wished she could provide her son with a beautiful nursery, filled with fluffy stuffed animals and cute pictures on the walls. But she was afraid she’d never be able to provide him with material luxuries. She’d go to the ends of the earth to keep him healthy and happy though. And she could offer all the love in the world.  

Perhaps they wouldn’t stay long in Boston. They could always move on to some other small town with a lower cost of living. Her heart twisted at the thought. For now, at least, Father Gold knew where they were. If they moved on further, she’d never hear from him again.

Not that she expected to hear from him. Even in her wildest flights of fancy, she couldn’t imagine it. He’d told her he loved her, but he’d let her go. He’d made his choice, and she had to live with it. No matter how she wished their circumstances were different, she was well aware he was unavailable the night they’d fallen into bed together. She’d made a choice as well.

Belle blew across the surface of her tea, tossing the bag in the kitchen wastebasket. Gideon had lifted himself up on his hands, getting his whole top half off the floor. Belle glanced around the cramped apartment, at all the potential hazards of pointed furniture edges and electrical outlets. Gideon would be crawling soon and it was high time to babyproof further. That was a problem for tomorrow Belle, however.

Instead, she flipped the TV on, a commercial for a jeweler filling the screen and reminding Belle of the upcoming holiday. Valentine’s Day was in two days, not that Belle had any special plans. Gideon was too young for candy hearts and sweets, though she looked forward to celebrating holidays with him as he got older, and she certainly didn’t have any other Valentine’s. Her co-worker, Tevin, had invited her out for drinks, but she’d politely turned him down saying she’d never be able to find a sitter at such late notice. It was almost comical the way Tevin’s eyes widened, his face falling at the realization she was a mother. Even if Belle’s heart had been remotely available, she was sure Gideon would scare away most men. Being a single mother of a baby so young almost certainly led people to believe there was a very recent ex in the picture, sharing custody and hanging around all the time. That wasn’t the case for Belle, but she didn’t feel the need to over explain her situation to anyone.

So Belle was planning to spend the night alone, perhaps she’d splurge on a bottle of wine and watch a Jane Austen adaptation on TV. She could imagine a world where Mr. Darcy or Captain Wentworth or Mr. Knightley swept her off her feet. And, if they all seemed to morph into the same man, with sad brown eyes and a weary little smile, she’d just go to bed early and try to forget about him.

It was no fun having a broken heart on Valentine’s Day. It was even less fun when you’d broken your heart yourself. She didn’t blame Father Gold for any of this. It had been her doing. She had kissed him first. She had seduced him. She had let her stupid little crush run wild and now she was here with the consequences. Not that she’d ever consider Gideon to be a burden. He was the very best thing that had ever happened to her.

But Father Gold couldn’t uproot his life over her mistake. He would lose his job, his community, everything he had ever known. Belle was used to being on her own. She had been since she broke off her engagement back in Australia, not hearing a peep from her father since. She could do this on her own too.

Gideon had rolled on to his back again and she put her tea down on the coffee table before scooping him up, balancing him on her hip.

“Had enough?” she asked.

Gideon just babbled happily at her, reaching one chubby fist out to wrap in her hair, giving it a painful yank.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, and Gideon’s eyes widened. “No pulling hair, sweet thing!”

She bent to kiss his little neck and he giggled uncontrollably. He was so ticklish. She wondered if it was something else he’d inherited from his father like his eyes and his dimples, and assumed she’d never know.

There was a knock on the door and Belle set Gideon on the floor once more, raking a hand through her tangled hair. She was a fright, unshowered and dressed in her favorite pair of leggings that were starting to pill on the thighs, and an oversized t-shirt. But there wasn’t one single person she was trying to impress in Boston, so there was no harm in answering the door. It was probably just Mrs. Howe from next door come to yell at her again that the TV was on too loud for nine in the morning.

She threw the apartment door open, looking out into the hall expectantly, but there was no miserable old lady in house slippers waiting for her. Instead her heart stuttered to a stop at the person on her doorstep.

“Father Gold,” she said, her shock turning to confusion.

He had a dozen roses clenched in one hand, a gift wrapped box wedged beneath his other arm. He looked as dazed as she felt, his dark eyes raking over her face as though desperate for the sight.

“Belle,” he said breathily.

“What,” she paused to swallow, needing to wet her suddenly dry throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, these are for you,” he said, holding out the flowers in his hand. Belle took them instinctively.

“They’re beautiful,” she said with a small smile, taking in the crimson blooms. “But you came all the way to Boston to give me flowers on February the 12th?”

Father Gold looked down self-deprecatingly, shifting his feet with uncertainty.

“No, no,” he said, glancing up at her from beneath a curtain of his dark hair. “I’ve, um, recently moved.”

“Here,” she repeated stupidly. “To Boston?”

“Yes,” he agreed, his cheeks tinging slightly pink. “Is that alright?”

Belle shook her head, trying to wrap it around the fact that Father Gold was here, at her apartment, hours away from Storybrooke. It was incongruous. Like seeing a teacher outside of school as a child.

“Of course,” she said finally. “You can move anywhere you like. Did you transfer to a new church?”

She wasn’t sure what this all meant. If he’d followed her to Boston it didn’t really change anything. He was still unavailable. He still couldn’t acknowledge Gideon as his son. Did he expect her to be his mistress? Like some renaissance era cardinal, fathering bastard after bastard? A little flame of anger, something she hadn’t felt in all this time, flared to life in her belly. Would he really keep her from finding happiness? She wouldn’t keep him from his son, but if her heart was to heal, they needed to keep their distance.

Gold just shook his head, a sad little smile crossing his features.

“May I come in?” he asked, glancing behind her into her apartment.

“Okay,” she agreed, stepping back. It wasn’t as if anything untoward could happen with Gideon lying on the living room rug after all.

Father Gold stepped inside, glancing around before his eyes fell on Gideon, his whole face softening at the sight of his son. The baby boy had rolled on to his back, finally giving up on tummy time for good, and was thrashing his stuffed bunny around almost violently.

“He’s getting big,” Gold said sadly.

“Yeah,” Belle agreed. “90th percentile for height at his last doctor’s appointment. No idea how that happened.”

“He certainly didn’t get it from me,” Gold agreed.

Belle found a vase beneath her kitchen sink, arranging the roses in it and setting it on her small dining table. Then she turned back to face Gold who was still staring at Gideon with a look of wonder on his face.

“So, what brought you to town, Father?” she asked.

He startled at being addressed and his eyes snapped over to Belle.

“Not Father, not anymore,” he said, laying the gift box he’d been holding beside the flowers.

It was then that Belle noticed his change of dress. He was still wearing dark slacks and a black blazer, but the black shirt and clerical collar were gone. In their place was a black and white checkered button down shirt she’d never seen him in before. In fact, she’d never seen him out of his collar or vestments, except for the one time she’d seen him in nothing at all. The night they’d made Gideon.

“What?” she asked, breathlessly.

Gold spread his hands wide.

“I quit,” he said.

Belle’s eyes bulged.

“You can do that?”

Gold nodded. “It’s called laicization. I requested to leave the clergy and it was granted. The church doesn’t really want you to stay if you don’t want to be there. It’s a calling, not a career.”

“Oh,” Belle said, her head spinning. He’d left the church. He was free . And he was here, in her kitchen.

There were few times in Belle’s life where she’d ever been anyone’s first choice. The idea that Father Gold, or Mister Gold, had given up so much for her, was a heady one.

His eyes turned back to Gideon on the floor and Belle felt a dawning realization. It wasn’t for her.

She bit her lip, tamping down her disappointment. She refused to be jealous of her own child. It was stupid, and fruitless.

“What will you do instead?” she asked, going to the burner where the kettle was still warming and preparing a cup of tea for her guest. It was the least she could do.

“I’ve always been handy,” he said, flexing the hands in question. “I got a job at an antique shop doing restoration work. And I have an apartment, and a roommate named Macavoy, another former priest like me.”

“You sound like you have it all figured out,” she said, her voice high and thin. She swallowed, trying not to be caught up in her emotions.  

“Not at all,” Gold said with a laugh. “I’m quite out of my depth here, Belle. But I knew I couldn’t stay in Storybrooke without you. I knew I could never be fully committed to the church and my community when my heart was longing to be here, with the two of you.”

Belle returned to the kitchen table, handing Gold a cup of tea which he accepted gratefully.

“The two of us?” she repeated, not able to meet his eyes.

“You and Gideon,” he said with a little shake of his head. “My family.”

“So it’s…” she trailed off, not daring to finish her question. That he hadn’t done all this just for Gideon. If he had, it would be enough. The fact that he loved their son enough to abandon everything he’d ever known only made her love him all the more.

“When did you leave?” she asked instead. “Storybrooke, I mean.”

“Well, I requested laicization the day after Christmas,” he said, taking a little sip of his tea.  

Belle shook her head again.

“The last time we spoke,” she began. “On Christmas Eve, you seemed so conflicted.”

He placed his teacup down on the kitchen table before rounding it to stand directly before her. Belle couldn’t help but meet his eyes now, honey brown in the morning light streaming through her windows.

“I was,” he agreed. “It’s a terrifying thing to give up the only life you’ve ever known.”

Belle sighed, stepping back from him.

“I never wanted you to have to choose,” she said, crossing her arms against her chest. She hadn’t meant to give him an ultimatum. She just wanted to tell him where she was going.  

“It’s not a choice,” he said, cupping her face with his hands, forcing her eyes back to his. “Belle, I love you. Nothing beyond that really seemed to matter.”

A little sob managed to escape Belle’s throat and Gold pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in his checkered shirt, clinging to him.

He loved her. He was here in Boston for her. It was as though she’d been repressing her emotions for too long and the months of sadness could finally be expressed.

“I love you too,” she managed to get out between ragged gasps. “I love you so much I can’t breathe. I left Storybrooke because it was too painful being so near to you and yet so far.”

“It was agony for me too,” Gold said, placing kisses against the top of her head, his hand rubbing over her back. “I kept expecting you to find someone else, to fall in love. I could have lived with that, if you were happy. But you never seemed happy.”

“How could I move on from you?” she asked, looking up at him with her tear streaked face. “Even if it was a sin.”

Gold shook his head, his hand coming up to wipe away her tears.  

“Loving you could never be a sin, but abandoning you, never knowing my own child, living a lie? That’s the real sin.”

He glanced longingly at Gideon, still playing on the living room rug.

“And it’s not exactly uncommon. The main reason priests request to leave the priesthood is because they fall in love, so they can marry.”

Belle’s eyes widened and Gold quickly released her, throwing his hands up. “Not that I’m asking you to marry me,” he said with a quick shake of his head. “But I would like to ask you on a date, if you’re free. I’ve never had a Valentine before.”

“You’ve made a good start of it,” she said, “with the flowers.”

“Is that a yes then?” he said, a shy smile crossing his handsome face. She wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt.

“Well, dating is a little more complicated these days,” she said with a glance at Gideon.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” he said with a quick shake of his head. “We can stay here and order pizza. Anything you want. I just want to spend time with you, with both of you.”

“Okay,” Belle agreed, a smile finally working its way across her face. “Then it’s a date.”

A matching smile crossed Gold’s face, a true one the likes of which she’d never seen on him.

He tipped her face up with his forefinger, placing a gentle lingering kiss to her lips. Belle gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. She could kiss him now, here, or on the street, in view of God and everyone. There were no rules being broken, no reason to hide in shame. He was just Mr. Gold, father to no one but Gideon.

She smiled as she kissed him, her heart so full she thought it might burst. Perhaps this wouldn’t be such a terrible Valentine’s Day after all.  

They finally broke apart, gasping for breath, their foreheads pressed together. Belle smoothed her hands down Gold’s chest.

“I like the new shirt,” she said with a little giggle. “Very handsome.”

“Thank you very much,” he said, a little sarcastically. “I’ll admit I haven’t had to shop for clothing in some time. My wardrobe could probably use a woman’s touch.”

“Then I’ll have to take you shopping,” she agreed.

“Oh, speaking of, I brought Gideon a gift,” he said, grabbing the gift box off the kitchen table. “It’s a blanket. I knitted it myself. It’s nothing special, I just…”

Belle cut him off with another brief kiss, her hand trailing through the hair at his nape.

“Do you want to meet your son?” she asked when they pulled apart.

“More than anything,” he agreed.

She entwined her fingers with Gold’s pulling him with her to the living room. Then she scooped Gideon up, handing him carefully over to Gold. He handled the baby expertly, cradling him against his chest. Gideon looked up at his father with inquisitive dark eyes.

“This is your Papa, Gideon,” Belle said, tears springing to her eyes as she said the words. “And you’re going to be seeing a lot more of him now.”

“I’m your Papa,” Gold repeated. “And I’m here to stay.”

[jackabelle73]

Content Rumbelle #8

They’d hiked hours to this remote location out on the trail, to find a scenic overlook that they had all to themselves. 

Gideon took one look at the breathtaking panorama and was bored after three seconds. He began to amuse himself by throwing rocks over the cliff, listening to hear them hit bottom. 

Rumple held Belle from behind, stealing an opportunity to smell her hair before taking in the view again. 

“Want to know the best part about this?” he asked softly.  

“Hmm?” 

“Not a single person we know could find us right now.” 

He could feel her smiling. 

“Good.” 

[jackabelle73]

Thank you, everyone who voted! And congratulations to all the winners announced today.

Fluff: Reunion

As often separated by circumstance as they are together, Belle and Rumple suffered through the ups and downs of being apart. Sometimes as the result of a curse, their own dysfunction, or sometimes even death itself, their separation wounds our Rumbelle hearts, so of course it stands to reason that their ultimate reunions - of which there are many - always bring relief and joy to Rumbellers all around.

In the category of Fluff: Reunion, the winner of the 2023 Chipped Cup Award is The Other Fork in the Path, by @jackabelle73​

[jackabelle73]

Content Rumbelle #4

“Goodnight noises everywhere,” Belle finished, closing the book. 

“One more,” Gideon yawned from Rumple’s chest. He insisted it was necessary for him to lay on one of them during bedtime stories, as their two adult bodies squeezed into his toddler bed left no room for him. They didn’t mind at all. 

“Aren’t you sleepy, m’boy?” Rumple asked, winking at Belle. 

“No. One… more…” And his body went limp. 

Belle suppressed laughter and leaned over to kiss Gideon’s forehead, and kissed Rumple as well, before picking up another book.

“What are you doing?” Rumple asked softly. 

“You heard him. One more.” 

[jackabelle73]

Content Rumbelle #2

The soft sounds of sucking were the only noise in the room. After everything they’d been through to get their son back, they were home. She was nursing Gideon for the first time. 

The bed dipped, and Rumple leaned over with a glass of water, aiming a straw toward her mouth so she could drink from her reclined position. She took a drink, then whispered her request. 

“Hold us?”

His weight settled behind her, and his arm came around to hold them, fingertips stroking Gideon’s soft head. He kissed her shoulder. 

They were together. They were safe. Nothing else mattered. 

[jackabelle73]

Content Rumbelle #7

Belle stirred the stew again, and tested a piece of potato. A little longer, then. Rumple was beside her, sleeves rolled up to the elbows as he sliced mushrooms. He tilted them into the pot, and kissed her cheek. 

“Almost ready for a taste test?” Belle asked. 

“I’d rather taste you,” he answered, kissing her neck this time. 

“Child present!” Gideon said loudly from the doorway. 

Belle turned and smiled at their son, the flush on her cheeks not entirely due to the pot’s steam. 

“Good timing, Gideon. You can wash your hands and set the table. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

[violetfaust]

Is this the tenth anniversary of Fluffapalooza? Or did that take a few seasons?

Well, it's that time of year again. What time of year, you say? Oh, hello there, Rumbelle newbies, I see you there, busily working away on filling out the ballot for the Chipped Cup Awards and flailing happily if some of your fics were nominated. Congratulations, and good, you should be in the right mood.

This is a fairy tale fandom, so let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, in the early times of the fandom, some of the Rumbelle writers looked at each other and said "Let's make all the Rumbellers cry". This challenge was taken up, and the Rumbelle War commenced, in which works of great angst and darkness were written. Readers cried and cursed the writers, who cackled evilly as they collected the broken hearts which were flung at their feet, and tucked them away in boxes and bags and old wooden card catalog drawers (because Rumbellers are big on libraries).

But because there must be light to balance the darkness, a new event was created -- FLUFFAPALOOZA.

Fluffapalooza is when you write and draw and gif the fluffiest fics/art/scenes you can think of. Haven't got the time or spoons to do any of that but you've got ideas? Post them as prompts, or headcanons! Or if you want a challenge, make a post announcing that you want to play "Fluffify this!" and invite people to send you angsty-sounding prompts in the form of sentence starters, which you will then sneer at and say "Not today! Today is for fluff!" and write a little prompt fill in which you turn that prompt into something fluffy. (See an example here.) Or maybe you just want to rhapsodise about Rumbelle and talk about their chemistry, or what the ship means to you and how it affected your life. Maybe you want to reminisce about how we started adding silly Rumbelle captions to every picture of a croc or gator or lizard that crossed our dashes. Anything goes! Tag everything with #fluffapalooza if you want it reblogged here!

Oh boy, you're saying (I hope), it sounds like fun! When is it? FLUFFAPALOOZA IS FEBRUARY 12, AKA SKIN DEEP DAY, THE ELEVENTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE FOUNDING OF OUR SHIP. THIS IS OUR HIGH HOLY DAY, GUYS, LET'S KEEP THE LOVE FLOWING AND CELEBRATE IT RIGHT.

(Oh yeah, and I believe it was in that contract you had to sign when you entered the fandom (you DID sign that scroll of parchment you were sent, yes?) that you have to reblog Love Is Purple and Love Is Still Purple at least once a year as part of the Anniversary Rites.)

[jackabelle73]

Content Rumbelle #5

The echoes of their cries faded, leaving only their quickened breaths as they came down from their high. Belle pulled Rumple down to her, their naked bodies slippery against each other. He nuzzled her neck, dropping little kisses on her throat before shifting to the side, bringing her with him. They adjusted till they found a comfortable position, and Belle went fully limp against him. 

She was slipping toward sleep but roused herself enough to murmur, “Love you.” 

“Love you too, Belle.” 

With her head on his chest, she could hear his heartbeat. She let it lull her to sleep. 

[jackabelle73]

Content Rumbelle #6

Her voice echoed across the featureless void, saying his name. He turned, still not sure he believed it, even when he saw her. Young again, looking much as she had when they’d first met. The Dark weight of three centuries fell away with a sigh, and he approached her carefully, still terrified that she would fade away if he moved too fast. Her hands were warm, and fit in his as they always had. She drew his hands around her waist, that perfect curve that his hands were meant to hold, and touched her lips to his. He was home.