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salmon_pinkTitle: Sweetly Sharp As A Blade
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Belle/Rumplestiltskin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 495
Timeline: Season Four's A Tale Of Two Sisters
Notes: BDSM. Spoilers. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fc_smorgasbord, prompt "hunger".
“Ask whatever you wish of me,” Rumplestiltskin murmurs, looking up at Belle with hooded eyes, his knees pressed into the cushions laid across the floor. His smile is hungry yet patient, and her answering grin is partially hidden by the knife as Belle presses the flat of the blade to her lips.
It sends a shiver through him, to know it’s the real knife in her hands. After the lies and the omissions, he’s determined to try this again, to do things right. His name glints upon the metal, Belle’s eyes sparkling above it.
It’s a surrender, but a pleasurable one. He’s held the knife so close for so long, but he trusts her, in a way he’d long accepted he could never trust another. He’s fought against that trust, ducked and squirmed from it, the whispers of a coward bleeding in at the edges of his mind. But now he finally thinks he may be ready, to give her his everything, to know how it feels to be helpless in her hands.
“Whatever I wish?” she echoes mischievously, and Rumplestiltskin bows his head to her.
“I will do as commanded,” he promises.
Belle laughs then, gentle and quiet, her hand reaching for him, petting lightly at his hair as his gaze turns back to her.
She has set the knife back upon the table.
“You know,” she muses, fingers sliding down the side of his face to press up under his chin, tilting his head back, “I don’t think I need magic to give you orders. We’ve always had so much fun without it.”
Rumplestiltskin smirks up at her, sharp and full of desire at the memory of all the games that they’ve shared like this, him on his knees and Belle standing beautiful and strong before him.
“I believe you may be right, my wife,” he agrees, her thumb stroking over his chin.
“You remember your safeword?” she asks, the question so familiar that it sends a conditioned thrill of anticipation through him.
“My safeword is ‘woven’,” he recites dutifully.
Belle pats his cheek, pleased, before her hands retreat to the hem of her negligee, satin in champagne gold, sliding it higher up her thighs. “I believe I’d like to begin tonight with your mouth upon me,” she says softly, her tone pleasantly lilting despite the heat in her words.
She is never stern with him, never cruel or cold. She believes these moments between them should be as sweet as they are sensual, always playful, always light-hearted.
For somebody like Rumplestiltskin, who has spent so many lifetimes being the one to dominate, to command, it is only somebody as good-natured as Belle that he could ever submit to.
She drapes one leg over his shoulder, his hands steadying at her hips. She’s bare beneath the negligee, and already wet for him, and Rumplestiltskin presses his face between her legs, inhaling the scent of her desire, mouth watering in his hunger for her.
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Belle/Rumplestiltskin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 495
Timeline: Season Four's A Tale Of Two Sisters
Notes: BDSM. Spoilers. For
fc_smorgasbord, prompt "hunger".“Ask whatever you wish of me,” Rumplestiltskin murmurs, looking up at Belle with hooded eyes, his knees pressed into the cushions laid across the floor. His smile is hungry yet patient, and her answering grin is partially hidden by the knife as Belle presses the flat of the blade to her lips.
It sends a shiver through him, to know it’s the real knife in her hands. After the lies and the omissions, he’s determined to try this again, to do things right. His name glints upon the metal, Belle’s eyes sparkling above it.
It’s a surrender, but a pleasurable one. He’s held the knife so close for so long, but he trusts her, in a way he’d long accepted he could never trust another. He’s fought against that trust, ducked and squirmed from it, the whispers of a coward bleeding in at the edges of his mind. But now he finally thinks he may be ready, to give her his everything, to know how it feels to be helpless in her hands.
“Whatever I wish?” she echoes mischievously, and Rumplestiltskin bows his head to her.
“I will do as commanded,” he promises.
Belle laughs then, gentle and quiet, her hand reaching for him, petting lightly at his hair as his gaze turns back to her.
She has set the knife back upon the table.
“You know,” she muses, fingers sliding down the side of his face to press up under his chin, tilting his head back, “I don’t think I need magic to give you orders. We’ve always had so much fun without it.”
Rumplestiltskin smirks up at her, sharp and full of desire at the memory of all the games that they’ve shared like this, him on his knees and Belle standing beautiful and strong before him.
“I believe you may be right, my wife,” he agrees, her thumb stroking over his chin.
“You remember your safeword?” she asks, the question so familiar that it sends a conditioned thrill of anticipation through him.
“My safeword is ‘woven’,” he recites dutifully.
Belle pats his cheek, pleased, before her hands retreat to the hem of her negligee, satin in champagne gold, sliding it higher up her thighs. “I believe I’d like to begin tonight with your mouth upon me,” she says softly, her tone pleasantly lilting despite the heat in her words.
She is never stern with him, never cruel or cold. She believes these moments between them should be as sweet as they are sensual, always playful, always light-hearted.
For somebody like Rumplestiltskin, who has spent so many lifetimes being the one to dominate, to command, it is only somebody as good-natured as Belle that he could ever submit to.
She drapes one leg over his shoulder, his hands steadying at her hips. She’s bare beneath the negligee, and already wet for him, and Rumplestiltskin presses his face between her legs, inhaling the scent of her desire, mouth watering in his hunger for her.
