Gods she’d missed this.
It had only been a few days, or thirty years depending on your perspective, since they’d been intimate but it felt like a lifetime. Between the confusion of the changed timeline, trying to catch up with everything they’d missed and finding themselves the parents of a rather precocious four-year-old, they hadn’t had much time for romance.
But now Rumple was above her, kissing her, making her sigh with pleasure as he sucked on her bottom lip. He pulled her nightgown over her head and chucked it to the side of the bed before kissing his way down her body, taking his time to nip and suck at every sensitive place he knew would make her squirm with delight.
He settled himself between her thighs, breath ghosting over her most private places. He dragged his tongue against her core, licking and sucking until she was trembling beneath his ministrations. She gripped his hair, hips bucking against him and calling his name out to the room as her orgasm shook her down to her toes.
She was still coming down from her exquisite high as Rumple climbed back up her body. He slid into her easily, filling her so sweetly. She was dripping wet, ready for him in every possible way. He thrust once and she was sure she’d come undone in a matter of seconds. He let out the most delicious groan, burying his head against her collarbone and thrusting again. She wrapped her legs around his waist, gripping on to him for dear life. He felt so amazing. Nothing in the world could possibly compare to this, being one with her Rumple, her True Love, her husband.
"Mommy?" came a sleepy voice from the doorway.
Rumple froze above her, his eyes going wide in the dim light of the bedroom.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before shoving Rumple off her. He slid to her side with an agonized groan, gathering the bedclothes about his waist.
She’d never had to plan for this before. Never had to lock the door or worry about little eyes seeing something they shouldn’t.
She pulled herself into a sitting position, gripping the sheets to her naked chest.
"What’s wrong sweetie?" she asked, trying to get her breathing under control, trying to ignore the throbbing heat still pulsing between her thighs. The little girl was standing just inside the doorway clutching her stuffed turtle, dark curls askew and looking so small and innocent in her footy pajamas.
"I heard yelling," Rowan said, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "What are you doing? Are you mad at Papa?"
Belle glanced over at Rumple, praying that his silver tongue would come up with some lie to feed their daughter. But her husband was lying back against the pillows with his eyes screwed shut looking as though he wished he were anywhere but here. She couldn’t help but notice the bedclothes were still tented over his erection. He rather looked as if he were in pain.
"No, sweetheart. Papa and I were just…playing a game," she said haltingly and Rumple’s eyes flew open at her lie. "Why don’t you go lie back down and I’ll come and tuck you in?"
Rowan nodded, shuffling back out into the hallway and leaving the door wide open behind her.
Belle fell back against the bed with a sigh.
"Playing?" Rumple asked with a smirk.
"Well what do you tell a four-year-old?" Belle countered. "You’ve been a father before. Why couldn’t you come up with something?"
Rumple just gave a weary sigh.
"By the time Baelfire was old enough to question such things, Milah could barely stand the sight of me. It wasn’t ever really an issue."
Belle felt chastened immediately. She never should have brought up Bae and certainly not Milah.
"Oh, Rumple," she sighed, rolling onto her side to kiss him sweetly. "I’m sorry."
Rumple just shrugged her off. “I think you promised to tuck someone in.”
Belle nodded, reaching for her discarded nightgown and pulling it over her head. She was a mother first and foremost now.
"When you get back, maybe we can finish playing our game," Rumple said with a wink. "But this time maybe be a little less vocal."
Belle smacked him against the chest as she stood from the bed.
"I give you permission to magically sound proof our room," she shot back. "Because I don’t want to scar our daughter, but I plan on being very vocal.”
Sauntering out to the hallway she left a wide-eyed Rumplestiltskin sitting naked on their bed.
Soundproofing. That might work. And she must remember to lock the doors.
okay so if harry potter was born in 1980, and went to hogwarts in like 91, that means he was in his sixth year in 1996
do you think he knew about the spice girls? i mean.. i know he had shit going on with horcruxes that year but wannabe isn’t something that happens without you taking note of it