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#sprite's pandemic promptathon
emospritelet · 4 years
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Desperation 15/16
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Oh, don’t mind if I do! As soon as you sent me this prompt I knew how I was going to write it :))
This chapter is also dedicated to @timelordthirteen​, who made this wonderful aesthetic post for this fic and has been patiently waiting for these two to touch :)
[AO3]
Oh, the rating went up 
Belle wrapped the robe she was wearing around herself a little tighter, looping the belt tight as Gold closed down the laptop and shoved the pad containing his budget notes into one of the kitchen drawers. She took two wine glasses from the cupboard as he rummaged around on one of the higher shelves in the larder, finally taking down a bottle of red wine. He held it up, looking uncertain. A stylised black cat with a curling tail was on the label, looking out with tilted green eyes.
“I’ve no idea what it’s like,” he said. “Not exactly a connoisseur. I’m guessing it’ll be red and fairly alcoholic. Aftertaste of wine.”
Belle giggled.
“Can’t ask much more than that,” she said. “Besides, it has a black cat on it. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Gold’s eyebrow twitched, and she felt her mouth drop open as she realised what she’d said.
“Uh - I - I meant with the taste,” she said lamely, and his eyes gleamed as he tried to hide a smile.
“Well, let’s hope so.” He stepped past her, reaching into one of the drawers for a corkscrew. “Come on, let’s take this through to the lounge.”
She waited for him to uncork the bottle, following him through to the lounge and setting the glasses on the coffee table before turning on the lamps. Gold eased himself onto the couch, picking up the glasses one by one and pouring wine into them.
“Cheers,” he said, raising his glass, and she smiled, sitting down next to him and picking up her own.
“Cheers.”
They clinked glasses, and Belle took a sip. The wine was pleasant enough as far as she could tell, its warmth spreading down her throat as she swallowed.
“Considering my sense of taste has all but disappeared, it seems pretty good,” she said, and Gold nodded.
“Honestly, it’s so long since I had a drink, anything would taste good,” he said. “But I’ve definitely had worse.”
He took another sip, and settled back against the cushions with a sigh as he relaxed a little, stretching his legs out.
“How long is it since you just kicked back with a glass of wine?” she asked.
“Probably New Year’s Eve,” he admitted. “Didn’t stay up until midnight, or anything. Bae and I had been to Granny’s New Year’s party, but I had a glass of wine when  he went to bed, and I drank the last of the whisky I had. Sat here in silence and thought about the year that had gone and the one that was to come.”
“I have to say that my New Year’s Eve was similar,” she remarked. “Only with far more alcohol and many more regrets.”
Gold chuckled, taking a sip of wine.
“I was thinking it would be a good year,” he said. “A better year. Didn’t see any of this coming, of course.”
“None of us did,” she said. “Although I have to say this whole experience has made me reevaluate things. Think about what’s important in life.”
“Has it made you regret coming to Storybrooke?” he asked. “You would have had more freedom to move around if you’d stayed in the city, I imagine.”
“Oh, I could never regret coming here,” she said at once. “It’s a wonderful town; admittedly I haven’t seen all that much of it yet, but it certainly seems wonderful. And coming here just before a crisis hits, being a relative stranger in this place - well, it’s made me realise how much strength and compassion there is out there. And how important it is to have a community. To belong.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “This town certainly pulls together in a crisis. And you do belong, Belle. You’re one of us now.”
She smiled at him, and there was a comfortable silence as they drank their wine. It had made her cheeks flush a little, and by the time she finished the glass she was feeling a gentle buzz from the alcohol. Gold took her empty glass, setting it on the table beside his own and pouring them another. 
“Did Bae say anything to you earlier?” he asked. “He seems a little down today.”
“Oh.” Belle chewed her lip. “Yeah. He was talking about his mom.”
“Ah.” Gold nodded. “Yes. He mentions her less than he once did, but I’m sure he still misses her.” 
“He told me about the last time they spoke,” she said, picking up her glass. “He said she promised to visit and bring presents, but she never showed up.”
Gold gave her a thin, bitter smile.
“No,” he said. “He must have asked me when she was coming fifty times over that Christmas period. I didn’t have an answer.”
“And you haven’t heard from her since?” asked Belle.
“A couple of postcards, gushing about how wonderful it was to travel,” he said dryly. “Full of empty promises about how she would come and see him and tell him all about what she’d been doing. The last one of those was over two years ago. I don’t even know if she’s still alive, and frankly I don’t care.”
He hung his head a little, his mouth flattening as he turned the glass between his fingers.
“That sounds bad, doesn’t it?” he said quietly. “I don’t - I don’t wish her harm, I just - she hurt Bae a lot by breaking her promises all the time. She always said she loved him, and that she’d keep in touch, and it just - never seemed to happen. I’d get him ready for a weekend with her, and she’d be late, or she just wouldn’t show at all.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry.” Belle wrinkled her nose. “Poor little Bae. That must have been so hard on him.”
“Sometimes I think it might have been better if she’d said straight out that she didn’t want any access,” he said. “Just left him with me when he was born and gone and lived her own life. At least then he wouldn’t have missed her. Still. Hindsight, and all that.”
“Maybe she wanted to try to do the right thing,” ventured Belle, and he shrugged.
“Maybe,” he said. “She made enough of a point of wanting access in the divorce, but perhaps that was just because she wanted to create some drama, I don’t know.”
“So she has your address?” she asked.
“Oh yes,” he said dryly. “I made sure she always knew how to contact him. As much as I could. Last time she wrote to him, she said she was taking a boat out to the Caribbean. God alone knows where she ended up.” 
He ran a hand through his hair, huffing air through his lips.
“God, I’m sorry to rant about my ex. I’ve never really had the chance to do it before. Wouldn’t be fair to do it in front of Bae.”
“I think he’s forming his own opinion of her, anyway,” said Belle, and he nodded.
“Perhaps he is. Not much I can do about it either way, it’s up to her to make their relationship work. If she’s interested.”
“You think she’ll ever come back?” she asked, and he pulled a face.
“In the absence of needing a kidney or something?” he said, making her grin. “If I had to put money on it I’d say it’s unlikely.”
There was silence for a moment. Gold took a swallow of wine, shaking his head as though freeing himself from the ghosts of his past.
“What about you?” he asked. “Any depressing relationship failures you want to tell me about?”
Belle pulled a face.
“Mostly a long list of failed first dates,” she said. “A couple of relationships, but nothing that got too serious. Sometimes I think I’m cursed. Or too picky, one of the two.”
“You should be picky,” he said. “No sense in settling for less than you deserve. You deserve the best, Belle. You deserve to be happy.”
“So do you.”
Gold inclined his head.
“I am happy,” he said. “Most of the time. You know, when there isn’t a deadly pandemic and the threat of financial ruin hanging over the town.”
He sent her a grin, to lighten the statement, and Belle smiled, taking another drink.
“Have you dated much since you got to Storybrooke?” she asked, and he snorted.
“No. Haven’t had time to think about it. Despite Granny doing her best to set me up with every single woman that visits the diner.”
“Sounds like the potential for a bunch of dates as awful as mine was,” she said. “My friend Ariel kept arranging blind dates for me back when I was living in Boston. Unfortunately Ariel’s idea of a hot date and mine just - well, they don’t really match up.”
“I daresay she and Granny would get along well,” he remarked, and Belle giggled.
“Well meaning and wonderful but really missing the mark,” she said.
“God bless ‘em.”
He raised his glass, and she clinked her own against his, still chuckling.
“It hasn’t put you off relationships entirely, then?” she said. “Getting divorced?”
Gold eyed her for a moment, and shrugged.
“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he said. “I haven’t become bitter and cynical, no matter how badly things ended with Milah. No matter how badly they began.”
Belle turned towards him, drawing her knees up onto the couch.
“You were married,” she said. “You must have cared about each other once.”
“We married because of Bae,” he said wearily. “I wanted to do the right thing, give us some stability. But yes, I suppose we did care. She told me she loved me, anyway. In the beginning.”
“Perhaps she did.”
He gave her a tiny, twisted smile.
“Perhaps,” he said. “For a time.”
“What happened?” asked Belle softly, and he sighed.
“We wanted different things out of life,” he said simply. “And the things she wanted, I couldn’t give her. Things weren’t great to begin with, but then I did this.” He tapped his bad leg. 
“How did you do it?” she asked curiously, and he pulled a face.
“One of my jobs in New York was a courier,” he said. “Motorcycle courier. Had an accident. Caught a wheel on a patch of fuel and took a trip under a truck. Lucky to come out of it with just a busted ankle.” 
Belle winced.
“God, that sounds awful. I’m sorry.”
“Is what it is,” he said, and took another swallow of wine. “Made things impossible between us, though. I hadn’t been much of a catch beforehand, but with a limp and a cane…” He gave her a self-deprecating grin, shrugging.
“You broke up, huh?” said Belle, and he nodded.
”She grew - resentful,” he said. “Restless. It was only a matter of time, really, the accident just made it happen sooner. She wanted money, good times, new places and new people every month. She never wanted the life I could give her. Such as it was.”
“You’re a very generous person,” she told him, and he smiled.
“With what?” he said. “I have nothing to offer. As she told me repeatedly.”
“Don’t say that,” she said firmly, and he shrugged.
“It’s true,” he said. “Milah wasn’t wrong about the facts, however cruel she might have been in the delivery. I have no money. No prospects. Nothing but the skills I’ve taught myself.”
“And a kind and generous nature, and a sense of humour, and a selfless heart…”
Gold chuckled, eyes glinting in amusement.
“You make me sound like a Jane Austen heroine.”
“Take it as a compliment.”
“Oh, I will,” he remarked. “I suppose there’s a lot to be said for trying to be kind in the face of adversity. However unheroic and unmasculine it might be considered by some.”
“As a librarian, I’m qualified to tell you that here are many different types of hero,” she said. “Besides, who cares about money and - and wild parties and things? None of that means anything. Not compared to family and belonging and making a life together. Milah was wrong to think it did.”
“Well, like I said.” His tone was wry. “We wanted different things.”
There was silence for a moment, and Belle took a drink, watching as the light caught on Gold’s hair, picking out gold and silver threads in amongst the brown. He glanced across at her, licking a droplet of wine from his lip, and she thought how handsome he was in the warm light, with his high cheekbones and his soft eyes, long fingers tapping against the wine glass. 
Another drink, the heat of the wine in her mouth, on her tongue. Gold took a sip of his own, lean throat bobbing as he swallowed. There were tiny flecks of new stubble on his jaw, and she licked her lips, wondering how rough it would feel, enjoying the sudden tug of desire deep in her belly. She had been analysing what she felt for him for several days, the growing fondness for his gentle ways and his kind nature, the attraction that pooled and swelled and made her heart thump. She wondered how it would feel to have him touch her. How he would taste if she kissed him.
Belle put down her glass, taking a deep breath, her skin tingling.
“So you said Milah left when Bae was four,” she said, and he nodded, glancing across at her as he took a drink.
“That’s right,” he said, setting down his glass.
“And since then, you’ve loved no one,” she said softly. “And no one has loved you.”
Gold stared at her for a moment, as though he was unsure what she had said, then slowly leaned forward, the couch squeaking a little as he moved. He was very close, and she could feel her breath quicken as his eyes bored into hers.
“Why did you stay with me?” he whispered, and she swallowed, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips.
“I - I wanted to help,” she said. “I thought - I thought you needed me.”
He lifted a hand, his movements hesitant, seeming to catch himself momentarily before gently cupping her cheek, his fingers sliding across her skin. Belle sucked in a breath at his touch, her heart thumping, and as uncertainty flickered across his face she put a hand over his, holding him there. He leaned in a little closer, until she could feel his cool breath against her lips.
“I do need you,” he whispered. “I need you, Belle.”
“I need you, too,” she breathed. “And - and I want you, Rum. So much.”
It was as though sparks were dancing between them, making her skin prickle and her lips part. His breathing had hardened a little, and his eyes were dark and deep, staring into hers. She could feel her pulse throbbing high in her throat, and she leaned in and briefly pressed her mouth to his, a gentle brush of soft lips. Gold sucked in a breath, a shiver going through him, and she kissed him again, lips pressing a little harder before she pulled back. He was staring at her wide-eyed, his palm still cupping her face, and he reached up with the other hand, fingertips brushing stray curls back from her face as he leaned in to kiss her again.
He was hesitant, a little breathless, his lips brushing gently against hers, his fingers sliding into her hair. Belle shifted closer, hands dropping to slide around his waist, and she moaned as the tip of his tongue gently parted her lips, pushing inside to stroke against hers.
Belle shifted closer, pushing him back against the cushions as the kiss deepened. Her heart was thumping, her cheeks flushing as their lips slipped and slid, Gold’s fingers stroking against the nape of her neck, tangling in her hair. She slid a knee across his legs, straddling him, and his hands moved down her back, tugging her close against him as he let out a groan of pleasure. She could feel the edge of his belt buckle against her lower belly, and she rolled her hips, sinking down a little and feeling the hard line of his cock pressing against her core. Gold gasped into her mouth, hot breath and wet lips against hers, and pulled back a little, breathing hard.
Belle nuzzled her nose with his, and he reached up to stroke her hair back from her face, running his thumb over her lower lip, his hands trembling a little. She kissed the tip of his thumb, catching his eyes with hers, her chest heaving as she slid her hands up his chest. He shook his head.
“I feel like I’m dreaming,” he whispered, and she smiled.
“Did you dream about this?”
“Too many times,” he breathed. “I never thought - never hoped you might—”
She kissed him again, and he let out a low growl, his hand clutching at her hair as the kiss grew hard and messy. His chest was hot and firm beneath her hands as they slid upwards, his hair just as soft as she had expected. She pulled her mouth from his, sitting back a little as she tried to catch her breath.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered.
He stared at her, his mouth a little slack, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly uncertain.
“Do you - not want to?” she asked, and Gold’s eyebrows flicked upwards.
“Oh - no no, of course I do,” he said quickly. “It’s just - well - you’re sick.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just a little tired, that’s all. Going to bed would be the best thing for me, in the circumstances.”
He grinned at that, and inclined his head.
“I can’t argue with that,” he said. “But I didn’t see any condoms in Mayor Mills’ grocery box.”
Belle giggled, and kissed his nose.
“I take birth control,” she said. “So - so we could. If you wanted.”
He smiled briefly, his eyes glinting.
“I want,” he breathed, and kissed her again.
Belle undulated against him, pressing her body to his, feeling the heat of him through his shirt, and his hand dropped to her thigh, sliding upwards, moving over her hip to squeeze her rear. She pulled her mouth free, pressing her forehead to his.
“Bed,” she whispered, and slipped from his lap.
They left the wine, Belle grasping his hand in hers and pulling him with her up the stairs. The lamp was on in the bedroom, a pleasant, warm light, and she shut the door behind him, hoping that Bae was sleeping soundly and wouldn’t decide to wander around in the middle of the night. She stepped forward, reaching for him, and their mouths met, her hands grasping his belt and tugging it open as his hands stroked over her shoulders. Gold pushed the robe from her, and she quickly pulled the belt open and let it fall, stepping closer and rising up on her toes as she pulled her mouth from his and kissed down his neck.
He let out a low groan, head rolling back, and she reached for the buttons of his shirt, eager to open it up and bare his skin. Her hands shook a little as she unbuttoned him, and she trailed her mouth around his throat, breathing in the musky scent of him, feeling the scrape of his stubble against her tender lips. She got the shirt open, tugging it from his jeans, hands sliding over hot, firm muscles as she pushed it from him. Gold shrugged out of it, and she bent her head to his chest, letting her tongue swirl over a taut nipple and making him groan. His skin tasted of salt and very faintly of the shower gel he used. She breathed him in, nuzzling his skin with her nose, and tasted him again, sucking the nipple in between her lips.
Gold ran his fingers through her hair, rumpling her curls as she sucked at him, her tongue circling. His fingers gently scraped against her scalp, making her shiver deliciously, and she slid her hands down his sides, feeling the lines of his ribs, drawing her fingertips around the waistband of his jeans. She let his nipple slip from her mouth and raised her head, breathing hard as she plucked at the button of his fly. Gold cradled her face with warm hands, kissing her tenderly, his lips soft and wet.
She got his jeans open, breaking the kiss as she pushed them down over his hips, and stepped back as he kicked them off. Gold reached for her, hands gently grasping her hips and pulling her a little closer. His thumbs slipped beneath the shirt of her PJs, brushing against the skin of her waist and slowly pushing upwards, lifting the shirt. Belle raised her arms to let him pull it over her head and toss it aside, and she shook out her hair, watching him study her, his eyes roaming over her curves.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”
She smiled, reaching for him, stepping close and sliding her hands around his waist as she raised her head to capture his lips with her own. Gold groaned, hands sliding down to cup her rear and pull her close, her breasts pushing against his chest, his skin hot against hers. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissing down her neck, and Belle rose up on her toes with a moan of pleasure. The sensation of his lips against her skin made her shiver, and he pulled back, nuzzling her nose with his as he pushed her pants down over her rear.
Belle stepped out of them, turning and pulling him with her as she lay down on the bed. He stumbled a little, kneeling heavily on the mattress beside her before lying by her side, and Belle shifted over a little, reaching up to kiss him, hands stroking through his hair as he pulled her close. He rolled her onto her back, kissing down her throat, his hair brushing against her chest as he kissed lower, his tongue painting circles on her skin. His hands cupped her breasts, and Belle moaned, arching upwards as he sucked at a nipple, a low groan coming from him.
She let her head roll back against the pillows, eyes closed, enjoying the heat and weight of him pressing down on her, and the feel of his lips against her skin. He kissed lower, his fresh stubble scratching at her belly, and she sucked in a breath as his tongue swept over her navel, lips pulling at her skin. His hands slid down to her thighs, pushing them apart, and she opened her legs wider as his nose brushed against her tender flesh. Gold let out a low growl as he kissed her, and Belle answered him with a tiny cry as his tongue dipped in between her folds. She let her hands drop to push through his hair, moaning as he licked her, his tongue swirling and stabbing, brushing over her clit and making her skin hum with pleasure.
“God, Belle!” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, and put his mouth to her again, his tongue circling, soft and wet. 
Belle moaned, arching her back, pushing against his mouth. He had settled into a rhythm, his tongue moving in slow circles, and she lost herself in the feel of it, letting the pleasure build deep in her core. His hand moved, a finger teasing her before sliding inside, pushing deep, and Belle gasped at the increase in sensation, her fingers tightening in his hair.
“God, that’s good!” she breathed. “So good.”
He was sliding the finger in and out of her, his tongue stroking against her, and she could feel the heat rise up through her body, flushing her cheeks and making her breath quicken. She whimpered, clutching at his hair, pushing her hips upwards, her body rocking against the bed in time with his thrusts. He had quickened his pace, his tongue flickering over her, and she could feel her muscles tense, her body tightening as her pulse seemed to pound in her head.
She came with a cry, shoving a forearm over her mouth to muffle the noise as a wave of pleasure broke over her. Gold groaned, drawing the finger out of her, his mouth covering her, devouring her, and she moaned as her hips jerked in tiny, rapid movements. He pressed kisses to her, lips trailing over her inner thighs before making his way up over her belly, and she slid her hands over his shoulders as he reached her breasts, his hands cupping, lips gently pulling at a nipple. His body was pressed against hers, and she could feel him against her thigh, a hard, heavy heat that made desire surge within her.
He pushed up on his elbows, breathing hard as he gazed down on her, and she reached up to push his hair back from his face, his skin damp and sticky.
“That was amazing,” she whispered. “You see? Very generous.”
He grinned, his eyes glinting.
“I could be even more generous, if you like.”
“Maybe later,” she said, sliding a hand down between them. “I’m in the mood for something a little more - mutual.”
She grasped his cock, feeling the hot, rigid length of him in her hand, squeezing gently, and Gold groaned low in his throat, a bass, rumbling growl. Belle ran the pad of her thumb over the head, spreading a bead of slippery fluid, and opened her legs a little wider, guiding him into her. His breath caught, the muscles in his arms tightening, and he let out a shuddering sigh as he pushed slowly inside her, sinking deep. She moaned, lifting her knees, sliding her feet along his thighs and up over his rear, wrapping her legs around his back.
He felt good inside her, and she lifted her hips, feeling the heat of him, the friction of his skin against hers as he began to move with long, slow circles of his hips, a rhythmic grinding motion. His hands pushed into her hair, fingers still sticky with her fluids, and he kissed her, his tongue gently pushing between her lips. Belle caressed his shoulders, running fingertips down his sides and up the groove of his spine to stroke through his hair. He shuddered, gasping into her mouth, his hands cradling her face, his lips brushing against hers as he thrust into her.
Belle moaned, head rolling back against the pillows, and he drew his tongue up her throat, sucking at her skin. The feel of him inside her was incredible, heat and wetness and the friction of his body against hers sending bursts of sensation through her. She kissed along his jaw, feeling the rasp of his stubble against her lips, drawing the warm scent of him in through her nose. She could feel bliss rising through her once more, swelling upwards and making her skin hum. Her thighs gripped his sides, sliding against him, holding him tight, and he groaned against her neck, his movements quickening, his cock pushing deep inside her. 
She could feel him tense, his muscles hard and taut beneath her fingers, and she bucked against him, tugging at him, a moan bursting from her throat and becoming a cry of pleasure as she came, stars bursting in her vision. Gold let out a deep groan, his cock pulsing as he followed her, his thrusts rapid and shallow as his hips pumped. She clung to him, letting out tiny moans in time with his thrusts, and he slowed to a stop, breathing heavily, hair brushing her face as he pressed his forehead to hers.
Belle tried to catch her breath, feeling the heat of him against her, perspiration making their skin slippery where their bodies joined. She tilted her head, gently brushing her lips against his, and Gold smiled, nuzzling her affectionately.
“Hey,” he said, and she smiled.
“Hey.”
He kissed along her jaw and down her neck, slowly pulling out of her and rolling onto his side with a heavy sigh. Belle turned with him, sliding a hand over his waist and down over his hip. She felt wonderfully relaxed, her skin still tingling from her orgasm, and Gold was watching her with a tender expression, his eyes heavy with sleepy contentment. She walked her fingers up his body, laying her hand over his heart and feeling its heavy thump against her palm. Gold smiled, putting a hand over hers.
“I’d forgotten how good it feels,” he whispered, sliding his fingers through hers. “To be touched. To touch like this.”
“It’s been a while for me, too,” she said, and his mouth curved in a lopsided grin.
“Has it been six years?”
“Well - okay, maybe not that long,” she admitted, chuckling. “But this was worth the wait.”
“Indeed.” He kissed her gently. “It was perfect.”
“Not bad for a couple of invalids,” she added, and he chuckled, his eyes gleaming.
“I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t a wonderful dream,” he said. “And when I wake up, I’ll be alone again.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on sleeping on the couch again,” she remarked. “Your bed is too comfy. And way better when you’re in it with me.”
“Good,” he said softly, and kissed her again. “Stay with me tonight, Belle.”
“I’ll stay,” she whispered. “I won’t leave you, I promise.”
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ao3feed-rumbelle · 4 years
Text
Early Shift
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2V6JyjY
by Emospritelet
After working long shifts at the hospital, Dr Gold is looking forward to spending the day with his wife. A breakfast phone call means he has to change his plans
Words: 2287, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M
Characters: Belle | Lacey, Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Glinda (Once Upon a Time), Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Wicked Witch of the West | Zelena
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Additional Tags: Sprite's Pandemic Promptathon, Pandemics, Hospitals, Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2V6JyjY
1 note · View note
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Desperation - chapter 12
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34: “Remember when we used to leave the house? Fun times”
Apparently I can only write fluff at the moment. Must be a reaction to the shitty timeline we’re in :/
[AO3]
x
As lockdown entered its second week, Belle found that she was settling into her new life quite comfortably. Bae had improved each day, and was restless and energetic. She had him helping her with baking and pulling weeds in the garden to burn off some of the excess energy. A call from Mary Margaret Nolan, Neal’s mother and Bae’s teacher, announced that lessons would be resuming over Zoom, and Belle cleared a space at the kitchen table for Bae to participate on his father's laptop.
“I’m hoping this works,” confessed Mary Margaret, having explained her idea for the format of the lessons. “Redesigning the lessons for remote delivery and trying to think of ways to keep them engaged has been driving me nuts.”
“If you need a break, I’d be happy to do a story hour with them,” offered Belle. “Maybe we could collaborate on something; a story hour on a book you want them to read, followed by some sort of art project based on that.”
Mary Margaret beamed.
“That’s a great idea!” she said. “We could continue once lockdown ends, too.”
“I’m trying to recall what life was like before lockdown,” said Belle, with a wry grin. “Remember when we used to leave the house? Fun times.”
“Yeah.” Mary Margaret chuckled. “I guess I’m better off than most. The farm still needs work, the animals still have to be fed. I feel for those going stir-crazy in their apartments.”
“That would have been me, if I hadn’t ended up staying here,” said Belle, and Mary Margaret looked curious.
“How did that happen?” she asked. “I was wondering.”
“Completely by chance,” admitted Belle. “Rum and I kind of had a spat over the last packet of paracetamol at the store, and somehow I ended up moving in.”
“Huh." Mary Margaret pursed her lips. “Not your average meet-cute, but these are unusual times.”
Belle gave her a level look.
“He was sick, and I wanted to help.”
“Oh, ignore me,” Mary Margaret assured her. “I’m a hopeless romantic, and Storybrooke needs more happy endings.”
“Hard to be romantic when you literally can’t touch one another.”
“Then you’ll have to be very inventive.”
“Speaking of inventive,” said Belle, feeling herself blush and wanting to change the subject. “Let’s talk more about working together. I was intending to set up some after-school clubs for different age groups at the library. Any input you and the other teachers could give would be great.”
“I’ll email the staff and ask them for their thoughts,” said Mary Margaret. “Sounds like the kind of integrated program we’ve been wanting to introduce in Storybrooke. If we can get the Mayor’s approval we should be able to get more funding.”
“Does the Mayor have kids?” asked Belle, and Mary Margaret gave her a knowing smile.
“She has a ten-year-old son. Something tells me this town will be very supportive of more activities for kids after trying to entertain their own for three weeks.”
x
The Zoom lessons started well, with only a few technological teething problems, which meant that Bae spent much of his days learning and chatting with his friends, leaving Belle free to do chores and read. The first story hour was due to take place that Friday, and Belle and Mary Margaret had already discussed ideas for complementary lesson-planning. It made Belle feel as though she was achieving something in her new position, despite not having set foot in the library in almost two weeks.
Gold, alas, was still in bed.
Belle had not tried to hide how much he was worrying her, with his rattling cough and the high fever that came and went. Already thin, he was now almost gaunt, and she and Bae tried their best to tempt him with homemade cookies and cakes, along with more substantial meals from the freezer. She told herself repeatedly that at least he didn’t seem to be getting any worse, and that his quietly stubborn nature would surely help him pull through. 
On Wednesday evening she took him some tea and found him sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.
“Hey,” she said.
Her voice made him look up. His eyes and cheeks were hollow, his cheeks and chin covered with almost two weeks of stubble, but there was a determined glint in his eyes. She put her head to the side. 
“You okay?”
“I’m getting up,” he said decidedly, gesturing with a finger. “I’m getting my arse up, and I’m going down the bloody stairs.”
Belle hurried to set down the cup of tea on his nightstand.
“Let me help you.”
“No no, it’s fine, I can do it.” He waved her away. “I have to do it. Bloody sick of being a dead weight around this place.”
“You’re sick!”
“And I won’t get better if I let this fucking thing keep me horizontal,” he said shortly, and sighed, running his hands over his face. “Sorry. I’m not angry with you, just this virus.”
“Anger is good in this instance,” she said, and took a step back from him. “Okay, up you get.”
Gold nodded, reaching to the side for his cane and using it to push himself upright. His legs wobbled, and he leaned hard on the cane, but after a moment he seemed to relax a little, although his smile was more of a grimace.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I’m taking a shower, and I’ll see you and Bae downstairs in ten minutes.”
“In that case, I’ll take your tea down with me,” she said. “We can all sit around the table and eat some of the fruit loaf Bae and I made.”
Gold nodded, his knuckles tight around the cane handle.
“Sounds perfect.”
x
He made it downstairs, much to Bae’s delight, and sat quietly at the table while Bae drank his suppertime warm milk and told him all about the lessons he had done that day. Belle warmed some soup through on the stove, setting it in front of Gold with bread and butter from the supplies that had been delivered.
“That’s fantastic, Belle, thank you,” he said, picking up a spoon. “I think perhaps my appetite’s coming back.”
“There’s plenty more, if you need it,” she said. “And more bread.”
“The bread tastes weird, Papa,” said Bae, wrinkling his nose. “It’s the same one they have at the school cafeteria. Paige says it’s made of polystyrene and fluff from the inside of the teachers’ pockets.”
Belle chuckled.
“I have to admit that I’ve thought that myself,” she said. “It certainly doesn’t come close to any of the delicious bread I’ve eaten since I came to this house. But it was free, which counts for a lot.”
“Quite right,” said Gold, dipping a piece of the bread in his soup. “We have to appreciate the kindness of those that gave it, Bae. Whether or not you think it tastes good.”
“Okay.” Bae looked a little despondent. “I was just kidding.”
“I know that.” Gold put down his spoon and pulled Bae close for a hug. “You’re a good lad. And a thoughtful one.”
“Belle and I didn’t make bread, though,” said Bae. “Maybe we should have, and then we could use this for something else.”
“We were concentrating on making your dad some treats, right?” said Belle, stroking his hair. “Making him feel better was very important work.”
“And something you both did excellently,” said Gold, turning back to his soup. “See? I’m already up and eating dinner again.” 
Bae grinned, flopping back into his seat, and Gold blew on his soup to cool it.
“Go on, then,” he said. “Tell me more of what you learned about birds today.”
x
Something woke Belle.
She yawned, snuggling in her blankets on the couch, her body warm and comfortable. Something had disturbed her sleep: a soft, distant thumping noise that she couldn’t place. Her eyes fluttered and opened, and the noise came again. Glancing at her watch, Belle groaned to herself and sat up, swinging her legs out of the blankets and getting up to head for the kitchen. She could hear the low sound of Gold humming, and assumed it was he that was making the noise. If he was already up and about at just after six in the morning, perhaps he was feeling better.
Her sock-clad feet made no sound as she padded across the floor, and she entered the kitchen silently, hands curling around the door frame. Gold was standing at the counter in T-shirt and jeans with his cane leaning beside him and a dish towel tucked into his belt, his forearms covered in flour. He was kneading dough, one hand grasping, folding and turning before pushing down with the heels of his hands. Two bowls sat on the table with towels draped over them, with a third standing empty at his side. He hummed as he worked, the rhythmic slap and thump of his hands against the dough in time with the beat, and Belle smiled a little as she watched him.
“Couldn’t face the polystyrene and pocket lint bread again, huh?” she asked, and Gold started, turning to face her with the dough ball in his hands.
“Ah,” he said, looking down. “Well. You both said you liked my bread better, so I thought it was probably time to make some.”
“You didn’t have to get up at six in the morning to make it,” she said, and he shrugged, turning back to his kneading.
“That was always my usual habit, before I came down with the virus,” he said. “I usually set the loaves aside for first rise, then do the rest of my chores. I bet the garden’s just choked with weeds.”
“I hope not, Bae and I have been working on it,” she said, coming into the kitchen properly. “Tea?”
“I’ll make it. You’ve done more than enough this past ten days.”
“Don’t burn yourself out,” she warned, crossing to the sink to fill the kettle. “I can make the tea. The last thing we need is you falling over again. Take it slow.”
Gold gave her a slanting grin, and bowed his head.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He gave the dough a final press, then worked it into a ball with swift passes of his hands and dropped it in the empty bowl. Going to the sink to wash his hands, he flourished the dish towel to dry them off, and draped it over the bowl before wiping down the work surface.
“Wholemeal, mixed seed, oat and honey, and black olive,” he explained, as Belle looked questioningly at the bowls. “We’ll eat some and freeze the rest. Just in case.”
“You’re very well prepared.”
“I try to be.”
He grasped his cane, almost falling into one of the kitchen chairs with a sigh, and Belle shook her head.
“You’re still not well,” she said, and he opened his eyes, a tired smile back on his face.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re stubborn, is what you are,” she said severely.
“One of my few redeeming qualities.”
“Stubborn and self-effacing,” she remarked. “It’s almost adorable.”
Gold’s smile grew.
“‘Almost’?”
Belle put her hands on her hips, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. For an awkward moment she found herself recalling what he looked like with a small towel around his waist, and told herself to concentrate.
“I very much doubt the virus cares how adorable it is,” she said loftily. “If it knocks you on your ass again and you end up spending another week in bed, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He was grinning now.
“A good thing I have such a competent housemate,” he said. “I’ll miss you when this is over, Belle. Bae and I will miss you, I mean. Both of us.”
She was definitely blushing now, and that image would not leave her mind, but she couldn’t help grinning back.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll miss you guys too.”
46 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Desperation - chapter 13
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22: “I just don’t know what to do”
Apparently all I can write at the moment are short fluffy chapters *shrug emoji*
[AO3]
x
Gold seemed to improve markedly over the next few days, although he still coughed at times and seemed to tire in the evenings. Belle soon got used to meeting him each morning in the kitchen, where he would have a pot of tea brewing as he kneaded dough or mixed pancake batter. He had offered to trade places with her and give her his bed, but she refused; the couch was very comfortable, and she didn’t feel right making him sleep there when he was used to his own bed.
Now that he was feeling better, Gold never seemed to be still for long. He was always cooking or cleaning, moving quickly around the small house to keep it clean and neat and free of clutter. Belle helped, folding laundry and offering to wash dishes after dinner while he mopped the floor.
“You guys make a good team,” said Bae, from the table, eating a banana. Gold eyed him.
“Having Belle here doesn’t mean you get out of chores, you know,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Belle hastily. “I’d rather keep busy.”
“I just meant having Belle here is a good thing,” said Bae. “I couldn’t have looked after you when you were sick. Not like she could. I can’t work the stove, so I couldn’t bake you carrot cake like she can.”
“You helped with that,” Belle reminded him. “I couldn’t have done it without you. We’re like a sugar-loaded tag-team.”
Bae giggled, and Gold sent Belle a grin, his eyes twinkling.
“I just meant I can’t take care of you on my own, Papa,” Bae went on. “I just don’t know what to do. Don’t get sick again until I’m maybe - twelve - or something.”
Gold chuckled, working the mop in between the chair legs.
“I’ll try not to.”
“Or tell Belle she can stay with us,” added Bae, and Gold’s eyes flicked across at Belle.
“I’m sure Belle’s looking forward to getting back to her own place and having a bit of peace,” he remarked.
“But I want her to meet the kittens!” said Bae. “How will they get to know her if she doesn’t come over?”
“Oh, of course I’ll come over!” Belle assured him. “Have you chosen names for the kittens yet?”
Bae wrinkled his nose.
“No. I think I want to hold them first, see what they feel like.”
“That makes sense.”
“We can make arrangements to pick them up from Mrs Nolan just as soon as lockdown ends,” said Gold, shoving the mop back into its bucket of water and swirling it around. “Speaking of, you’d better make sure you’re ready for class tomorrow. No mad panic at the last minute because you can’t find your books, okay?”
“We’re starting a project on dinosaurs!” announced Bae, and slipped from the table, putting his banana skin in the trash and hurrying upstairs with thundering feet.
x
The following morning Belle woke a little later than usual, and found Bae at the kitchen table furiously scribbling in advance of his first class of the day. She gave him some help where she could, although he turned out to be far better at identifying dinosaur species than she was. She listened attentively as he told her of the asteroid that had fallen, and the chaos that had followed. The reptile species that had disappeared, allowing mammals to thrive.
As Bae was finishing up, Belle went to put on the kettle for some tea. She wasn’t especially hungry, so she wandered out to the rear garden, where she found Gold on his knees in the vegetable patch, pulling out weeds with quick, practised tugs. He glanced up as she approached, shaking his hair back.
“Decided to work in the garden today, huh?” she observed, and he shrugged, glancing around. 
“If we want fresh vegetables this summer, I really need to keep this place tidy,” he said. “You and Bae were doing a good job with it, though, Far less to do than I expected.”
“He had to show me which plants were weeds,” confessed Belle. “I’d probably have pulled up all the onions, left to myself.”
Gold grinned.
“Yeah, it can take a little getting used to, but you learn to recognise what should be there and what should go,” he said, sitting back on his heels and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Where’s Bae? I thought I heard the two of you talking.”
“We were doing the homework he should have done last night,” said Belle, in a dry tone, and Gold shook his head with a grin.
“If he thinks he can pull the wool over Mary Margaret’s eyes, he’s mistaken,” he said. “She’ll know if he’s half-arsed the thing.”
“I gave him a hand,” she said. “I think he’ll pass muster, he seems to know his stuff. He’s really looking forward to the dinosaur project.”
“Good.” He tugged at some more weeds, plucking them out and tossing them aside. “I didn’t want to disturb you this morning. You looked to be very comfortable on the couch when I put my head around the door. I can make us some tea as soon as I’m done here.”
“It’s okay, I’ll do it,” she said. “Can’t believe I slept in. If seven a.m. is sleeping in. I guess it is now. You must have been up with the dawn.”
“I’ve always been an early riser,” he said. “I like the early mornings. It’s quiet. Contemplative. At least until Bae gets up.”
“Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I kind of like it in winter, when it’s still dark and maybe it’s raining, and you sit with a cup of tea waiting for the sun to rise, and it feels like you’re the only one who’s awake.”
“Little chance of that with an eight-year-old, but I know what you mean.”
“Oh, wait until he’s a teenager,” she said, waving a hand. “You won’t be able to get him out of bed then.”
Gold chuckled.
“I suspect you’re right about that,” he said. “Do you run your library classes for teenagers, too?”
“All ages,” she said. “Book clubs, study sessions, research… I’m looking forward to getting started when I can open the place up again.”
“Maybe I’ll get a library card,” he said. “Join one of your book clubs.”
“You’d be very welcome,” she said, and he smiled, turning back to the weeds. 
“I’d better get on with this, give Bae some breakfast before school starts,” he said. “I want to start getting those beans in today.”
Belle got on her knees beside him, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“It’ll go quicker with two,” she suggested, and he gave her a wide, warm grin.
x
Gold cooked that evening, a hearty stew of spicy sausage with lentils, tomatoes and onions, served up with mounds of fluffy mashed potato and steamed kale slick with butter. It was hot and savoury, but Belle found to her dismay that she had lost her appetite. Her head was throbbing a little, a dull, insistent pounding that made her feel a little nauseous, and she pushed a piece of sausage around her plate, watching the path it cut through the thick, russet-coloured liquid.
“Are you alright?”
Gold’s voice made her look up, meeting brown eyes filled with concern. She smiled.
“Not feeling all that great,” she admitted. “Maybe all those early starts are catching up with me.”
He eyed her for a moment, and nodded.
“Go and rest,” he said. “Bae and I will clean up, and I’ll bring you some tea later. Go on, lie down and take a nap.”
“Actually that sounds like a good idea.” Belle put down her fork, pushing back from the table. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“I hope you’re not sick,” said Bae worriedly, and she smiled, patting his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just tired. I’ll take a nap and be right as rain.”
She pushed up from the table, heading to the door on legs that wobbled a little and trying to shove away the fearful thoughts that were insisting that she was next, that she was sick. She squared her jaw, grasping the handle of the lounge door and pushing it open and heading for her bed on the couch. Rum and Bae had recovered. They were fine. She would be, too.
x
Something was clicking.
Belle was warm and comfortable, eyes closed and the now-familiar scents of wool and orange oil tickling her nose. The clicking noise was still there, a pattering sound which she had first mistaken for raindrops. She opened her eyes, to find the room gently bathed in the golden glow of the corner lamps, the curtains drawn against the night, and Gold in the squashy armchair across from her, knitting.
She watched, fascinated, as his nimble fingers wielded the needles, catching and winding wool to make the stitches, a long length of deep blue forming between his legs. He was concentrating on his task, and she let her eyes roam a little, following the line of his nose and sweeping along his cheekbones to where his hair was turning silver above his slightly pointed ears. Light made shadows in the collar of his shirt, and where his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, his tanned forearms slender and sinewy.
“How are you feeling?”
His voice, though quiet, still made her start, and she flicked her eyes up to meet his.
“Uh…” How was she feeling? “Okay, I guess.”
Gold began counting his stitches with quick flicks of a thumbnail.
“Coughing?” he asked. “Any tightness in your chest?”
“No.” Belle pushed upright, swinging her legs around and letting the blanket drop as she ran her hands over her face. “I feel okay.”
“Headaches?”
“I had one earlier,” she admitted. “It seems to have gone. What time is it?”
“Almost nine-thirty,” he said. “I was going to make some tea.”
“Yes please.” She yawned. “Can’t believe I slept all that time.”
“Hmm.” He put down his knitting and sat forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees and giving her a firm look. “I want you to listen to me, okay? It’s highly possible that you’re about to become as sick as Bae and I have been. So I want you to take my bed tonight.”
“Oh, there’s no need for that…”
“Yes, there is,” he insisted. “You were kind enough to come here and take care of us, and I made you sick. I feel - I feel just awful about it, Belle, really.”
“I feel okay now!”
“But you might not tomorrow,” he said quietly, and his eyebrows raised upward, a desperate, pleading expression. “It’s the least I can do. Please, Belle. I put clean sheets on. It’s all ready for you.”
She sighed, giving him a weary, if fond look.
“You sure you’re ready to sleep on the couch?” she said, and he shrugged, a faint grin on his face. 
“It’s not like it’d be the first time.”
Shaking her head in pretended exasperation, Belle pushed to her feet. She still felt a little unsteady, but perhaps more sleep was all she needed. There was no sign of any coughing, and she didn’t have a fever. 
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll have some tea, and I’ll sleep in your bed. But only to make you feel better, okay? And if I wake up tomorrow and I’m not sick, you get your bed back.”
Gold’s grin widened.
“Deal.”
42 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Desperation - chapter 14/16
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Also prompted by @kelyon​
[AO3]
x
Despite how comfy she had found the couch, Belle had to admit that sleeping in a proper bed was better. She stretched her legs out as she woke, enjoying the space around her in the warm sheets, and squinted at her watch. Eight-oh-four. Wow. Guess I needed the sleep.
She lay on her back for a moment, trying to assess how she was feeling. Still no cough, and no tightness in her chest, which was good. She felt a little drained, though, and her limbs ached, so she clearly wasn’t better. Perhaps she simply had a mild case. Lots of people did, after all.
Voices were floating up the stairs: Gold warning Bae to be careful, and not to drop anything. Belle glanced to the side as she heard Bae’s thumping footsteps on the stairs, followed by a knock on the bedroom door.
“Come on in,” she called, and he pushed it open, sidling around the edge of the door with a plate held carefully in his hands.
“I brought you French toast,” he announced. “It has maple syrup on it. We didn’t have fresh berries, but Papa and I went blueberry picking last summer and put them in jars in some sugar syrup, and they’re just as good. And we sliced up a banana from the grocery box.”
Belle sat up with a smile, pushing herself up on the pillows. Her arms wobbled a little, but she managed to get herself into a comfortable position in which to eat. Bae set the plate on the nightstand and stepped back to watch her reaction. Plump, glistening blueberries were scattered across a thick slice of French toast with slices of banana, the whole thing drizzled with amber trails of maple syrup. The toast was golden-coloured, its edges the dark brown of caramel, and she licked her lips.
“It looks delicious,” she said, deciding not to mention that her sense of smell seemed to have abandoned her, and Bae nodded.
“When Papa said you were sick too, I thought maybe you’d want something sweet, like I did,” he explained. “I can’t get apple pie from Granny’s, but maybe this will help.”
“That’s good of you, sweetie,” she said. “I’m okay, really. Just a little tired and achy. I’m sure I’ll feel much better tomorrow. Especially with you taking such good care of me.”
“Papa made the French toast,” said Bae at once. “I just brought it up.”
“Well, it looks yummy.”
She picked up the plate, setting it on her lap, and Bae flopped into the chair, watching as she took a bite. Sweetness burst across her tongue, but she was dismayed that she couldn’t seem to taste much beyond that. I suppose of all the symptoms I could get, loss of taste isn’t too bad in comparison, she thought. Bae was watching her anxiously, and she made noises of enjoyment.
“It’s really good,” she assured him, and he beamed.
“Papa said he’d bring you some tea,” he said. “He says you should stay in bed and let us look after you.”
“And I’m not going to turn him down,” she said. “I’ll do as he suggests. At least for today.”
She cut another piece and popped it in her mouth, and Bae swung his feet restlessly, kicking the chair legs.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?” she said.
“I’m all set,” he assured her. “Today we find out which dinosaur species we get to read about. I hope I get ankylosaurus. Will you help me do research?”
“Of course I will,” she said. “Do you have any books on dinosaurs?”
“Only one,” he said gloomily. “I wish the library was open now.”
“So do I.” Belle wiped syrup from her plate with a piece of bread. “There’s a ton of information online, though. I’ll help you look.”
“Okay.” 
Bae looked more cheerful, and Belle ate another mouthful of toast.
“Do you miss being at school?” she asked. “Playing with your friends?”
“Sometimes.”
“Seeing them on Zoom isn’t the same as playing outside, I guess,” she said, and he shrugged.
“No one’s mean on Zoom, though.”
Belle frowned, chewing a mouthful of French toast.
“Has someone been mean to you?”
Bae shuffled his feet, shrugging again and looking uncomfortable.
“Some of the kids make fun of me because I don’t have a mom,” he said. “They say you can’t have a proper family without a mom and a dad.”
“Well, they’re wrong to say that,” said Belle firmly. “Families come in lots of different shapes and sizes, and there’s nothing to say that you need to have a mom and a dad to be a proper family.”
“That’s what Papa says,” said Bae, looking happier. “They’re just mean. They make fun of Paige, too. She doesn’t have a mom. But she has two dads, so I guess that makes up for it.”
Belle smiled, digging into her toast with a fork.
“I don’t have a mom, either,” she said, and Bae looked interested.
“Did yours leave, like mine did?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“No, she died.”
“Oh.” He looked sad. “Mine just left. She said she’d come back, but she didn’t.”
Belle wanted to hug him.
“Do you remember your mom?” she asked, and he wrinkled his nose.
“Kind of. She had dark hair like you.”
“When did you last see her?”
Bae shrugged, pulling a face.
“She called,” he said. “The Christmas we came to Storybrooke. Papa had put lights up all around the porch, and we just finished decorating the tree, and he was smiling. Then the phone rang and he answered it and he stopped smiling.”
“Did you speak to her?” asked Belle, and he nodded.
“She sounded kind of weird, but she said she’d come visit,” he said. “She said she’d come on Christmas Day and she’d bring me presents, but she never did.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said gently. “That sounds hard. Maybe she’s sorry for what she did. Maybe she’ll come back one day.”
“I don’t want her to,” he muttered, his feet kicking faster. “She’s a liar.”
Belle tried to think of something to say that would help, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs made them both glance around. Gold put his head around the door, a steaming cup of tea in one hand, and smiled.
“Thought I’d bring you some tea,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m not too bad,” she said. “If I’ve got the virus, it at least seems to be a mild case.”
“Good.” He came into the room, setting the cup down on the nightstand. “Bae, class starts soon, could you go and brush your teeth, please?”
“Okay.” 
Bae gave Belle a wan smile and shuffled out of the room. Gold frowned after him for a moment, but turned back to Belle.
“The hospital is sending out nurses to take tests to try to pin this thing down,” he said. “I put a call in this morning to report all three of us feeling sick. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” she said. “It makes sense, if we’re to beat this virus.”
“Positive results might result in longer periods of isolation, that’s all,” he said. “I’m hoping not too long; a lot of people in this town will suffer if they can’t work. But at least it means we won’t infect anyone else.”
“Any word on how the rest of the town’s doing?” she asked, and he eased himself into the chair that Bae had vacated, resting the cane between his legs.
“The Mayor is giving a briefing at six today,” he said. “Should be an update then.”
“Okay.” She put her head to the side. “How are you doing?”
“Still not back to running on all four cylinders, if I’m honest,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Still, no rest for the wicked. I thought I’d finish Granny’s books today, as soon as Bae’s done with school. Can’t get them back to her, but at least it’ll be done for when I can.”
“Don’t exhaust yourself,” she warned. “You look tired. You’re getting over a serious illness, you need to make sure you rest.”
“I will.” He smiled briefly. “The couch isn’t too bad, is it?”
“Not as comfortable as this,” she said, patting the bed beside her. “You could always take a nap, you know. I don’t mind.”
Gold’s tiny smile widened a little, his eyes twinkling.
“What would the neighbours say?”
“Well, I won’t tell them if you won’t,” she said bluntly. “Come on, it’s your bed.”
“Yes, and you’re in it.” 
“I don’t mind moving,” she said. “Which side of the bed do you usually sleep on?”
The smile became a grin.
“If I lie down next to you, I won’t get up again.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
Gold shook his head, looking amused, and pushed to his feet.
“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her empty plate. “There’s too much to do.”
“Okay, but at least promise me you’ll get some rest later,” she called, as he left the room.
“I promise! Now take your own advice!”
His voice drifted in through the door, and Belle grinned, wriggling down in the bed a little to drink her tea. Gold needed someone to look after him, if he wouldn’t do it himself. The role might as well fall to her, for as long as she was staying with him. Though she suspected he’d want his bed back at some point.
x
She stayed in bed for most of the day, only getting up when it was time for dinner. Nurses from the hospital had attended, covered from head to toe in protective clothing as they used swabs to take samples from all three in the house. The results were confirmed quickly: three positive tests. Gold answered their questions on the dates when symptoms had first appeared, and on that basis he and Bae were told to observe quarantine for a further seven days, and Belle for fourteen. Gold nodded agreement, looking a little anguished, if not surprised.
Mayor Mills appeared on TV just as they finished dinner, looking poised and sombre in her two-piece suit. She read out the latest figures: two hundred and eighteen cases, twenty-seven residents in a serious condition in hospital, thirteen deaths. After a moment of remembrance for each of the victims, she ran through the latest medical evidence, and what the anticipated numbers would be as the effects of lockdown were assessed.
“Storybrooke has always been a strong community, and this time of crisis is no exception,” she said. “I know the residents of this town will do everything in their power to help keep their neighbours safe and well. If you have been told to extend the quarantine due to positive tests, please do so. I realise that people are concerned about their jobs, and the effect that lockdown is having on their ability to feed their families, but we must all do our part to defeat this virus.”
She looked around, dark eyes flashing, expression one of firm resolve. 
“As Mayor, I promise you that I will do all I can to ensure no one goes hungry, and that jobs and businesses recover from this,” she said. “The deliveries of groceries will continue until lockdown ends. I’m meeting virtually with local business owners and medical experts to discuss what needs to be put in place to allow the town to open up safely, and I hope to have some news on that next week.”
The briefing ended, and Gold turned off the TV, leaning back on the couch with a heavy sigh.
“What does it mean?” asked Bae.
“It means you’re probably having Zoom classes for at least another three weeks,” said Gold.
“I don’t mind that too much,” said Bae. “Can I watch TV now?”
Gold passed him the remote, getting up and heading for the kitchen to clean up, and Belle went back upstairs to lie down for ten minutes. She was still aching a little, as though she had been doing hard physical work that day, but she hadn’t developed a fever, and she was hoping that meant that her symptoms were as bad as things would get. 
x
She woke with a start to find that it was almost eleven at night. 
Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, yawning widely as she pulled her slippers back on to head to the bathroom. When she had finished washing her hands and had splashed a little water on her face to revive herself, she headed downstairs. Lights were still on in the lower floor of the house, and she was thirsty. Perhaps Gold would join her in a cup of something before turning in.
She found him in the kitchen, seated at the kitchen table with an empty cup beside him. He was tapping away at the laptop, occasionally checking the pad of paper to his right. His brows were lowered, a faint look of desperation on his face.
“Hey,” she said, and he started, looking around.
“Belle.” He smiled, but there was only a weary resignation in it. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “I feel much better. You?”
“Fine, fine,” he said vaguely, running a hand through his hair.
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
Gold sighed, slumping back in the chair a little.
“Just going through the budget,” he said quietly. “God, I hope the Mayor finds a way to open things up in this town. If she doesn’t, things are gonna be extremely tight around here.”
Belle moved a little closer.
“When you say ‘tight’...”
Gold looked up at her, his expression steady and grim.
“I mean there won’t be a cent to spare,” he said. “It’s gonna eat up everything I managed to put aside against emergencies, and even then I’m gonna have to be very, very creative.”
He shook his head, turning back to the laptop, and Belle wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, to send him some comfort. Her fingers seemed to hesitate, hanging in the air as she watched the light shine on his hair, and eventually she let her hand drop to her side again.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess with the town closed up for weeks, you won’t get many requests for bookkeeping.”
“Not for another few months, I reckon,” he said grimly, looking around. “Those businesses that do manage to open up again, they won’t be in a position to pay me. Things are going to be - stretched.”
“Does this call for more foraging in the woods?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Once we’re allowed out of the house, yes. Can’t pass up free food.”
“At least you know what you’re looking for,” she said. “Maybe you could teach me. I’ll help you pick berries and mushrooms and maybe I won’t poison us all.”
Gold grinned, but there was a weariness to his face, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.
“You may think it’s pleasant, Bae and I growing our own food and foraging in the woods, ” he said. “And it is, don’t get me wrong. I love him and we’re happy in our little house in this little town. But it’s - it’s hard, Belle. Being poor, especially when you’re a single parent, is hard. It’s constant. You can’t take a day off and just - just be. You’re always planning, always thinking. Budgeting down to the last penny, hoarding and making do and cutting coupons or bartering with the neighbours. Hoping and praying that nothing breaks, that you won’t get sick, that you won’t lose work. It’s - it’s a never-ending project that you can’t hand off to anyone else.”
The smile fell from her face at the look in his eyes, an expression that was almost pleading.
“I didn’t mean to make light of it—” she began, and Gold shook his head.
“No, please, that wasn’t a criticism,” he said. “I - well, to be honest, I just wanted to rant for a moment. I can’t do it in front of Bae, you see. I don’t want him to worry.” 
“I know you do whatever it takes to make sure Bae doesn’t want for anything,” she said quietly. “You’re a good father. A good man.”
Gold smiled, looking grateful, and eyed the computer screen again.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “It - it probably isn’t the best time to have an extra mouth to feed, is it?”
Gold looked around.
“I’m not blaming you, please don’t think that,” he said quickly. “I’m so grateful you stayed with us, Belle, I truly am. It’s just - well…” He gestured helplessly at the spreadsheet on the screen in front of him.
“I can contribute,” she said.
“That’s not necessary…”
“No, please!” she insisted. “You’ve been providing for me since I moved in, and - and I haven’t had to buy any of my own food since I did, and out of the two of us I’m the one still getting paid, so it makes sense I give a little back.”
“You’ve already given us so much,” he said, and she gave him a level look.
“Yeah, but none of that keeps the lights on, does it?” she said. “If you won’t take money, sell me something.”
Gold blinked at her.
“What?”
“Sell me something,” she repeated, and hurried to the larder. “Like… I don’t know, some of that really delicious cherry jam you made. I’d love to eat that in the mornings when I finally head back to my own apartment. How much?”
“Belle…”
“Or - or maybe you could make me something,” she said. “You knit, right? I could use a new sweater.”
Gold fixed her with a flat stare.
“Belle,” he said. “I’m not taking your money. You’ve more than earned a place here. All you’ve done for us - it wouldn’t be right.”
“But—”
“I mean it,” he said firmly. “Please, don’t distress yourself. I’ll find a way. I always do.”
She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head.
“God, you’re stubborn.”
Gold sent her a brief, slanting grin.
“As I recall, you said it was adorable.”
“Almost adorable,” she corrected, and his grin widened.
“I stand corrected.”
Belle sighed, leaning back against the kitchen table, feeling an odd mix of amusement and frustration.
“Don’t suppose there was any wine in that grocery box, was there?” she asked, and he chuckled.
“I’m afraid orange juice was as exciting as it got,” he said, and hesitated. “Actually - I do have a bottle somewhere.”
“Really?”
“Was gonna save it for - well, who knows? Christmas, maybe?”
“Oh, in that case we don’t need to open it,” she said hastily, and he shook his head.
“It’s not as though it’s an expensive bottle,” he said. “Just that I don’t drink a lot, so there seemed little point in opening it just for me. But - well, maybe it would be nice. If you and I had a drink together.”
He looked hesitant, uncertain, and Belle smiled warmly.
“I would like that.”
38 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Desperation - chapter 10
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24: “You can move closer, I don’t bite”
I think you may have wanted this to be smutty, but I’m afraid it’s just domestic fluff XD
Prompt list here
[AO3]
x
Life at the Golds’ house continued in the same vein for another few days. Bae improved greatly, eating more and looking bright-eyed and restless. Gold was worse, eating little, drinking gallons of water and coughing most of the day. Belle was worried about him, but tried not to let Bae see it.
On Friday morning, they received their first delivery of groceries. Belle had been making a pot of tea when she heard a knock at the door, and she put the lid on the teapot and hurried to open it. A short, stocky man with a bristling black beard and a gruff expression was standing halfway down the path. A beanie hat was pulled down over the tops of his ears, and a thick scarf was wound around his neck. He gestured to the porch, and Belle looked down to see two large cardboard boxes stuffed with food and household items.
“Astrid said to say the medicine’s tucked down the side,” he said. “You tell Mr Gold and his boy to get well soon, you hear?”
“Thank you so much!” called Belle, and the man tapped his forehead with his fingers in a jaunty salute.
Picking up each of the boxes was a struggle; they were both heavy and awkward, but she managed to get her knees under the first and hoist it up into her arms. It was a relief to get to the kitchen and drop it onto the table. She hurried back for the second, and then shut the door again. It was just starting to rain, a fine drizzle coating the grass like dew, and she shivered and locked the door, trotting into the kitchen.
She found the paracetamol and put it aside. There was some cough syrup too, and throat lozenges. There was a four-pack of toilet paper, tampons and pads, some fabric softener and laundry detergent, hand sanitiser, soap and toothpaste, shampoo and shower gel. On the food side, the supplies were basic but useful. Two quarts of milk, a dozen eggs and a loaf of bread. A pack of butter. A block of cheese and a pack of bacon. Boxes of wheat flakes and crisped rice. Canned soup, beans and tomatoes and a package of pasta shapes. There were potatoes and carrots and a bag of apples.
She was pawing through the box when she heard a shuffling noise from the hallway, and glanced over her shoulder to see Bae, swaddled in a dressing gown too big for him with the hood pulled up, sleeves hiding his hands. He was hovering in the doorway, watching her.
“Hey, you’re up!” she said, with a smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.”
He was shifting from foot to foot a little awkwardly, and Belle beckoned to him.
“You can move closer, I don’t bite,” she said cheerfully. “You want some breakfast?”
“Yes please.” He padded into the room, peering into the box curiously and picking up a box of wheat flakes. “Where did you get these?”
“Groceries, courtesy of the Mayor,” said Belle briskly, taking out the milk and putting it in the fridge. “You think maybe we can find something to tempt your dad?”
“Papa doesn’t eat cereal,” said Bae. “He likes to cook breakfast. He says it’s the most important meal of the day.”
“And he’s right,” said Belle. “But not everyone cooks as much as your papa. I guess they’re trying to cater for all tastes, huh?”
“I have cereal at Neal’s place sometimes,” he said.
“Who’s Neal?” asked Belle.
“Neal Nolan. He’s my best friend.”
“Your dad said he gets wool from the Nolans’ farm,” said Belle, remembering. “Is that Neal’s family?”
“Yeah.” Bae put down the box of cereal and picked up a jar of peanut butter, turning it over with a suspicious look on his face. “His dad has sheepdogs. And cats. The cats had babies just before I got sick. Papa said maybe we could get a couple of kittens.”
“Really? How cool.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if we can,” said Bae, sounding morose. “I haven’t seen Neal in over a week.”
Belle thought for a moment.
“Well, do you want to give him a call?” she asked. “You could use my phone, if you like. If he has a cellphone, we could do a video call with him. Maybe see the kittens.”
Bae beamed at her.
“Can I?”
“Have some breakfast first, and then we’ll call,” said Belle. “I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”
“Okay.”
“What do you want?”
“Uh - can I have eggs? Scrambled?”
“On toast?”
“Yes, please.”
“Any thoughts on what I can make your dad?” she asked. “He doesn’t seem to be eating much.”
“He likes sweet things,” said Bae. “Granny’s cookies and cherry pie, and cakes. Maybe - maybe we could make him cupcakes. Do you know how to make cupcakes?”
Belle pursed her lips.
“I bet we could find a recipe,” she agreed. “Let’s try that after you call your friend, hmm?”
“Great!”
Bell made scrambled eggs on toast for both of them, and drank two cups of tea while she ate it. Afterwards, she set up her phone on the kitchen table, propped up on some books, and sent Bae to find Neal’s number.
“It’s his mom’s number,” explained Bae, as Belle dialled.
A woman answered, short black hair above kind eyes and a bright smile.
“Uh - hello?” she said, looking uncertain.
“Hey,” said Belle. “I’m Belle, the new librarian. I’m staying with the Golds during lockdown, and Bae would like to know if he can speak to Neal.”
She moved aside a little for Bae to squeeze into the shot.
“Oh! Sure!” The woman beamed, and called over her shoulder. “Neal? Baeden’s calling you!”
There was a thunder of feet, and the woman disappeared, replaced by a young boy with light brown hair and hazel eyes.
“Bae!” he exclaimed. “Were you sick? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” said Bae. “This virus sucks. My dad’s really sick.”
“Ugh, sorry.” Neal wrinkled his nose. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“I think so. Belle’s looking after him.”
“Who’s Belle? Is that Belle?” Neal looked interested as Belle waved. “Did your dad get a girlfriend?”
Belle gathered up the breakfast dishes and carried them to the sink, trying not to laugh. She listened to the children chatting as she ran water for the dishes, and trotted upstairs to check on Gold. He was curled in bed, coughing into the sheets, and she shook her head at the sight of him. The room smelled of sickness, stale sweat and the faint whiff of lemon from the drink she had made to soothe his throat.
“Let me get you some more water,” she said, and Gold pushed himself upright, falling back against the pillows with a gasp.
“I need to get up,” he whispered.
“You do not,” said Belle firmly. “You need to rest. Bae and I have everything under control.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s talking to Neal. I Skyped the Nolans.”
A faint smile.
“That’s good of you. He must be lonely.”
“He’s worried that he won’t be able to get the kittens you promised,” she said, and Gold’s smile widened.
“I’m sure they won’t love him any less for being a few weeks older.” He sat up a little more, raising his arm and sniffing before wrinkling his nose. “I have to take a shower, I’m disgusting.”
“You’ve done nothing but cough and sweat for days, of course you’re disgusting,” she said briskly, and he let out a low, tired chuckle.
“Great bedside manner, Nurse French,” he said.
“I like to think of it as firm but fair.”
“In that case, would you mind getting me some tea while I go and scrub some of the sickness away?”
“You want some breakfast?” she asked. “The groceries arrived. There’s cereal. Peanut butter. Bread, eggs…”
Gold wrinkled his nose.
“Just tea.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll try to eat something later.”
“Good. I’ll bring that tea and some more water.”
“Thanks.” He gave her a tired smile. “Thank you, Belle. Thank you for everything. I don’t know how we could ever have managed alone. I can never repay your kindness.”
“Good thing you don’t have to.”
His smile grew a little, but then his face fell, and he grabbed the blankets, tugging them up to his mouth before another coughing fit racked him. Belle shook her head.
“It’s really taking it out of you, huh?” she said, and he slumped back against the pillows, chest heaving.
“It’s exhausting,” he whispered. “Still, no rest for the wicked. I’m gonna drag myself to the shower.”
“I could change your bedsheets, if you like.”
Gold nodded wearily.
“Clean sheets? That sounds wonderful.”
x
Belle stripped the bed while he was in the shower, balling up the sheets and putting on fresh. The shower was still running, and she gathered up the dirty bedclothes, trotting downstairs to put on a load of laundry. Bae was still chatting to Neal, and Belle left him to it, pouring out a cup of tea and carrying it upstairs. The shower had shut off, and she set down the cup on Gold’s nightstand, turning just as he opened the bedroom door, a towel around his waist and his hair wet. He took a step back, one hand flailing at the door as he staggered, the other clutching frantically at his towel as it started to slip off, and Belle scuttled back out of his way. He was very thin, his ribs showing in faint lines beneath his skin, his chest smooth and his muscles small and firm. She found that her eyes were following a bead of water as it tracked its way down over his belly, and hurriedly swept her gaze back up to find him staring at her wide-eyed.
“Sorry!” said Belle hastily, feeling her cheeks flush. “Sorry. I just - there’s your tea. I’ll get out of your hair.” 
She stepped to the right just as he did, then to the left, and Gold clutched at the door for dear life, shuffling out of her way until Belle could duck through the door. She hurried downstairs, still blushing, and found that Bae had ended his call to Neal and was putting away the breakfast dishes she had washed.
“Right,” she announced, trying to push the image of a nearly-naked Gold from her mind. “Cupcakes. Let’s find a recipe.” 
48 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Desperation - chapter 9
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35: “I’m used to being alone”
Prompt list here
[AO3]
x
Belle’s eyes snapped open, her heart thumping, and for a moment she thought she was back in her own bed. She was warm and comfortable, but the sound of coughing had woken her, and she pushed herself upright, eyes casting to the ceiling worriedly. It sounded as though both Bae and Gold were suffering. She had hoped that Bae, at least, would have been on the mend.
It was morning, fingers of daylight poking through the curtains, and she swung her legs around and out from beneath the blankets, rubbing her eyes and yawning. The coughing started again, and Belle got to her feet, wrapping the crocheted blanket around herself and tugging on the slippers she had brought before heading up the stairs. 
She looked in on Bae first. He was sitting up against the pillows, his Enchanted Forest book tented on his knees, looking a little sorry for himself.
“Hey,” she said gently. “How are you feeling?”
“My throat hurts,” he said, his voice croaking. “I hate this stupid cough.”
“I bet.” Belle tilted her head to the side, remembering that she had left the thermometer in Gold’s room. “Do you still have a fever?”
Bae shrugged.
“Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
“What can I get you for breakfast?”
“Is there any apple pie left?”
“You want it with ice cream?” she asked, and he nodded. “Okay, but I think your dad might want you to eat a proper meal at some point.”
“I will, I promise.”
“Okay. You want something to drink?”
“Can I have milk?”
Belle smiled.
“I’ll go and get some,” she said. “I want to take your temperature, too. You stay in bed, okay?”
She shut the door, ducking into the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth before knocking softly on Gold’s door. There was a muffled noise from within that might have been an invitation to enter, and so she slipped inside, eyes adjusting to the relative dark of the room, and the shape of him lying prone in the bed, propped up on pillows. She could hear laboured, rattling breath, and chewed her lip anxiously. He doesn’t sound good.
“Hey,” she said gently. “How are you feeling?”
His head turned slowly towards her, features blurred in the dim light, the points of his eyes and the ridge of his nose picked out by the light from the landing
“Why did you come back?”
His voice was hoarse, whispery, as though he had little strength. She wondered if he’d managed to sleep.
“I didn’t leave,” she said. “I stayed over, remember?”
“Don’t come back,” he rasped. “Not if you’re just gonna break his heart again. Not fair.”
Belle opened her mouth, confused, and shut it again.
“Rum,” she said gently. “It’s me. It’s Belle.”
“Belle?”
Was that surprise in his voice? Relief? Must have thought I was his ex. It’s the fever talking. Maybe she was brunette.
“It’s me.” She stepped further into the room. “It’s just me.”
The sheets rustled, and he ran a hand over his face, exhaling loudly.
“Can you give me some light?”
Belle hurried over to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. Yellowish light spilled across the room, picking out the stubble on his cheeks and the sheen of sweat on his brow. The water jug was empty, his eyes hollow and his thin chest rising and falling rapidly. She tried not to let him see her shock, but a surge of alarm had gone through her at the sight of him. Gold turned his head towards her a little, and she gave him a wobbly smile.
“Sorry,” he said quietly. “Must be losing it. For a second there I thought - never mind. I’d forgotten you stayed over. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she said, pushing aside her own curiosity at his reaction. “Your couch is pretty comfy, by the way.”
He smiled slightly at that.
“Shouldn’t have let you sleep on the couch,” he muttered.
“Really, it was fine,” she said. “Besides, you’ll be better soon, I’m sure, but you’ll still be stuck on your own until lockdown ends. I couldn’t leave you alone, could I?”
“I’m used to being alone.”
He ran his hands over his face again, sighing, and Belle shook her head.
“Let’s check that fever,” she suggested, handing him the thermometer. “I’ll get you some water. Bae wants pie for breakfast. Is that okay?”
“I need to make him a proper meal today,” he said, and popped the thermometer in his mouth. Belle put her hands on her hips.
“You’re staying in bed and you know it,” she said firmly. “I can make him dinner. It looks like you have plenty of meals all portioned up. I’m sure I can cook some fresh veg to go with them.”
Gold made a face, though at the thought of food or of her cooking it she was unsure.
“What about you?” she asked. “Breakfast?”
He shook his head.
“What about some tea, then?”
A nod, the thermometer rattling against his teeth as he tried to hold it in place with his lips. 
“He looks a little better,” she said. “I’ll check his fever when I’ve done yours. He’s sitting up in bed, though, and has his appetite back, so I think he’s on the mend.”
Gold gave her a grateful look, and the thermometer beeped. She winced at the reading.
“I’ll get you some water,” she repeated. “And you’re taking two more of those pills. No arguments.”
He shrugged tiredly, as if to say he wasn’t about to fight her on it. Good. She headed downstairs, eyes narrowing as she spotted something on the doormat in the hallway. A leaflet, with the Storybrooke Council logo on the front of it above a telephone number. Belle opened it up, eyes scanning the contents. An explanation of the lockdown, with the reasons for it and the measures that the Mayor’s office was putting in place to ensure people were fed and protected. The grocery packages were mentioned, but the contents were not listed. Belle glanced at the clock. Too early to make a call yet. She headed to the kitchen, dropping the leaflet on the table and taking the apple pie from the fridge.
Bae was still running a fever, but a mild one only. He was also still coughing, but he ate the piece of pie and ice cream and drank his milk. Gold downed two glasses of water as soon as Belle brought the jug, after which he nestled down in the blankets and closed his eyes. She turned off the light and left him to it, figuring he could use the rest.
She made a pot of tea and took him a cup, but Gold didn’t stir when she entered, so she left it on the nightstand and tiptoed out again. Her own breakfast was toast, two thick slices of a delicious malted loaf studded with pumpkin seeds and walnuts, spread with butter and a dark, tangy cherry jam. She ate it on the porch overlooking the rear garden, the blanket around her shoulders keeping the early morning chill from her. There was silence except for the birds chirping in the trees. No passing traffic, no drone of motorbikes, no shouts and squeals of children playing. It was as though Storybrooke was hibernating.
Once breakfast was over and the dishes washed, Belle got dressed, pulling on thick tights and a blue sweater dress. She had decided to leave the Golds resting unless they called on her, which meant she had a few hours to kill. Ordinarily she would have curled up with a book, but first she wanted to get in touch with whoever was going to be delivering their groceries the following day. She retrieved the leaflet that had been delivered, which had a contact telephone number in bold on the front. The phone rang for a long time before being answered.
“Good morning!” came a cheerful voice. “You’re through to Storybrooke City Hall Lockdown Coordination. This is Astrid speaking, how may I help you?”
“Uh - hi,” said Belle. “I had a question about the grocery deliveries.”
“Tuesdays and Fridays,” said Astrid immediately. “I’m afraid we can’t arrange time slots, it could be any time between eight and six. The delivery team will leave the box outside your property.”
“That’s great,” said Belle. “I just had a question about the box contents, that’s all.”
“Oh! Do you have allergies?”
“I - no.”
“Does anyone in the household have allergies?” Astrid talked very quickly, as though she was brimming over with enthusiasm, and Belle was trying not to grin.
“No,” she said. “At least, if they do, I don't know about them. I’m staying with the Gold family, and they’re both sick, father and son.”
“Oh no!”
“Yeah, so I wondered if the boxes would contain medicines of any sort.”
“There’ll be a one-off supply of toiletries and household products in the first delivery,” said Astrid. “I can request that over-the-counter medicines are included. What is it that you need?”
“Just some paracetamol.”
“Okay, but I can’t let you have any more than two packets.”
“That’s fine.”
“Address?”
Belle gave the address, hearing the tapping of keys at the other end of the line.
“It’s too bad they’re both sick,” said Astrid. “I hope it’s not too serious.”
“I think Bae’s on the mend,” said Belle. “Rum is - well, he’s not too good, actually.”
“Well, you tell them to take care from me,” said Astrid. “And you can tell Mr Gold that those alterations he did on Leroy’s coat were just wonderful.”
“I - I will, thank you.”
“Okay, you’re all set for Friday!” said Astrid. “My husband will deliver the box himself. Was there anything else?”
“No no,” said Belle. “Thank you, you’ve been very kind.”
“Well, we all have to look after each other, right?” chirped Astrid brightly. “That’s the great thing about this town!”
Belle thanked her and hung up, smiling slightly. Yes. Deadly disease aside, Storybrooke seemed to be everything she could ever want from the place she would call home. She couldn’t wait to settle in properly.
51 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Social Distancing - 3/3
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Sorry it’s taken me so long to finish this - my smut muse abandoned me.
[AO3]
x
Sutherland stepped back, motioning to Sergeant Knight to hold the door open, and Lacey sauntered in, hips swinging. She had let down her hair, reddish-brown curls shining in the light of the lamps. It made him want to take a curl and wind it around his fingers, as he had done when they last spent the night together. He remembered how soft it was, how it had felt brushing his chest as she pillowed her head there. Her eyes scanned the room, lips pursed.
“Nice.” she said. “You could pretty much live in a place this big. I guess when you’re Prime Minister, you’re used to this kind of thing.”
“Frustration and jet lag make you stop noticing, after a while,” he said. “I suppose it’s comfortable enough.”
Sergeant Knight had closed the door, and turned back to face Sutherland, his dark eyes taking on that flat look that meant he was trying to be unobtrusive. Sutherland sighed.
“Sergeant, could you please join Sergeant Nolan outside?” he asked. “I’m sure Miss French isn’t here to kill me.”
“Not intentionally, no,” said Lacey cheerfully. “Might bang you to death, but what a way to go, am I right?”
Sergeant Knight closed his eyes momentarily. 
“Call if you need anything, sir,” he said, and slipped out of the door, closing it behind him.
“Poor Lance,” sighed Lacey. “I bet that door isn’t soundproof.”
“I should hope not.” Sutherland wavered, feeling a little unsure of himself, as seemed to be the way when he was around Lacey French. “May I offer you a drink?”
“As long as it’s a big one, sure.”
He crossed to the drinks cabinet, where cut crystal glasses sat, waiting to be filled.
“I - ah - there’s some whisky here. Rum… Gin and tonic?”
“I’ll have what you’re having.”
“Whisky, then.”
He set out two glasses, pouring a measure into each and feeling Lacey’s eyes on his back. It was a surprisingly pleasant sensation.
“How are you enjoying your time in the US?” he asked, turning to face her and holding out a glass. She shrugged, taking it.
“Too early to say. I like the food. And the work’s interesting.”
“But you’re going back to the UK in the autumn?”
“I think so. Don’t want to delay my studies too much, experience or not. This is mostly a networking opportunity, anyway.”
She took a sip of her whisky, eyeing him over the top of the glass.
“Well, you certainly made a memorable impression on me,” he remarked, and she grinned, her eyes gleaming.
“Planning on making another one before the evening’s out.”
Sutherland took a sip of his drink, trying to organise the thoughts that seemed to be swarming and multiplying in his brain and stealing his reason.
“Does your father know what happened at Christmas?” he asked, and Lacey rolled her eyes.
“No. I can keep a secret. Besides, it’s none of his business what I do.”
“He may think otherwise.”
“He’s too busy schmoozing and attending dinners to notice, most of the time,” she said. “He asks me how my studies are going, but tends to avoid any discussion of personal crap. Which is fine by me.”
“How are your studies going?” he asked, and she wrinkled her nose.
“Everything was fine until I had to do a damn group project for one of the modules. Why can’t anyone pull their fucking weight? Why do I end up working my ass off for a mediocre piece of crap when I could have aced the thing on my own?”
“Oh, believe me, I know that pain,” he remarked, taking a drink.
“Yeah, well…” She looked irritated. “Dragged my grade down a little. It’s a good thing I got this internship. Should give me some decent material to work with when I go back to class. I’m not settling for anything less than distinction.”
“I have every faith in you,” he said honestly, and she nodded, a sly smile beginning to tug at the corners of her mouth.
“Well, I do tend to get what I want, if I put the work in,” she said, and her eyes gleamed. Sutherland took a swallow of whisky, eyeing her as he lowered the glass.
“And what do you want tonight?”
Lacey pursed her lips, looking him up and down.
“I thought we could pick up where we left off,” she said. “We definitely hit the dozen orgasms, as I recall, but most of those were mine. I think you’re at least eight behind.”
“I wasn’t exactly keeping a count,” he remarked.
“Of course, if you want to focus on me again, I’m cool with that too,” she said, and winked. “How about it, Prime Minister? Want to take me to bed and make me scream?”
“You’re very direct, Miss French,” he observed, and she snorted.
“Good thing too, or you’d never get laid.”
He chuckled at that, setting down his glass.
“I expect you’re right about that.”
Lacey sipped at her own drink, smirking a little before setting her glass down next to his and stepping nearer. She let a finger run around the top of his waistband before hooking behind his belt buckle and tugging him close.
“For what it’s worth, seeing you in action today was kind of a turn-on,” she said, her voice a little lower, a little rougher.
“Was it now?” he murmured, as his hands found her waist.
“Mhmm.” She stepped closer, her breasts pushing against his chest. Her eyes were very blue, sparkling with mischief. “Especially when you yelled at that guy from Gilead.”
“Well, I didn’t like his offhand comment about casualties,” he said, his fingers stroking against the fabric of her dress. “Some of these corporate types need to be told in no uncertain terms to fuck off, and I’m more than happy to be the one to do it.”
“Very sexy of you.”
“Glad you think so.”
He couldn’t help grinning at her, and she was smiling back, the faint smell of whisky on her breath.
“So,” she said, twining her arms around his neck. “Do you want to traumatise poor Lance again, or shall we take this in the bedroom?”
Sutherland bent his head to kiss her, and Lacey moaned into his mouth, pressing herself against him as his tongue pushed into her. She tasted every bit as sweet as he remembered, with the smoky heat of whisky on her tongue. His hands slid down, cupping her rear through the dress she wore, and he tugged her against him, feeling his cock begin to harden as his tongue stroked against hers. Lacey let out a low noise of approval, her hands sliding down his chest and around his waist. She moved her hips, grinding against him and sending a burst of sensation through his body, and he broke the kiss with a gasp, his lips wet. 
Lacey murmured contentedly, nuzzling his nose with hers, fingers dancing over his lower back and making him shiver. She swept the hands around his sides, sliding them up his chest. Her fingertips ran over his nipples, making him jerk at her touch, and her eyes opened, fixing on his as a lazy smile curved her lips.
“So the kiss was just as good as I remember,” she whispered. “How’s your stamina? Jet-lag’s a bitch.”
“Good thing I’m used to it,” he growled, squeezing her rear. “Although my energy levels do seem to get a boost from your presence, Miss French.”
“Lucky me.” Lacey had a self-satisfied grin on her face. “I intend to take full advantage. Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
Her hands slid down, one finger hooking around his belt, and she turned in his arms, breaking free and tugging him with her. Sutherland let her lead, aware that he was wearing a ridiculous grin. She seemed to waver as her eyes scanned the room for the bedroom door, but then she strode towards it, turning the handle and letting them in. The bedroom was cool and dimly-lit, only the lamps on the nightstands sending out a warm glow to make shadows stretch along the floor, and Lacey stepped around him and closed the door behind them.
“That should give us some privacy,” she said.
Sutherland grasped her upper arms, shoving her back against the door and making her squeak into his mouth in surprise as he kissed her. Her shock dissipated as a giggle bubbled out of her, and she kissed him back, her tongue stroking against his, her mouth sweet and smoky. He pressed himself against her, feeling his cock swell and harden in his pants, pushing at her groin, the pressure of her body exquisite. Lacey moaned, spreading her legs a little wider, and he ground against her as one foot curled around his calf.
His hands left her arms, sliding over the curves of her waist and hips before rising up to cup her breasts, and she let her leg slip to the floor again, pulling her mouth from his.
“Unzip me!” she whispered.
Sutherland grasped a shoulder and turned her to the wall, sweeping her hair aside so that he could kiss the nape of her neck, Lacey moaning as his mouth sucked at her skin. His hands moved over her hips, tugging up the skirt of her dress, fingers caressing the lace tops of her stockings and sliding over smooth, soft skin. Lacey gasped as his forefinger brushed against the edge of her panties, and he heard himself growl in response. Her skin was hot in the crease at the top of her thigh, and he let his fingers inch further, stroking between her legs and feeling warm lace already damp with her arousal.
Lacey sucked in a breath at his touch, and he bit down into her, a contented moan coming from her as he worked two fingers under the hem of her panties. Her skin was smooth and soft as silk, and his tongue swirled in circles over the back of her neck as his fingertips found heat and slick fluid between her folds. His breathing grew harder, fingers sliding over wet, tender skin, and Lacey moaned, pushing her rear back against him, rubbing against his cock.
“Fuck!” he gasped, and she let out a low chuckle.
“God, I hope so.”
Sutherland grinned, his hand sliding out. She made a discontented sound, but he pushed the skirt of her dress higher, up around her waist, and hooked his fingers under the waistband of the panties to pull them down over her hips, letting them fall at her feet. 
“Bed, is it?” he murmured, kissing her neck, and Lacey nodded.
“Hell, yes.”
“Do you have protection?”
“Always.”
He kissed her again, and took a step back, grasping the zipper at the back of her dress and drawing it down. She wriggled her arms out of the sleeves, letting it fall and leaving her in nothing but stockings and heels and a black lace bra. Sutherland stepped back again, eyes running over the taut curves of her buttocks and rising up the groove of her spine to where her chestnut curls tumbled over pale shoulders. God, she’s beautiful. Perfect.
She turned to face him, her lips full and glistening, her eyes darkened with desire. Reaching into the cups of her bra, she drew out three condoms, waving them at him with a glint in her eye.
“You know, you should really start carrying these yourself,” she said. “Never know when a horny intern is gonna jump on you.”
“I have to confess that even the remotest possibility of being jumped on by a horny intern never came up in planning for this trip,” he remarked, and Lacey rolled her eyes.
“The whole point about being prepared is that you can deal with the unexpected,” she said. “Didn’t they teach you that in Prime Minister school?”
“Oh, I assure you I would definitely have remembered the lesson on horny interns.”
Lacey giggled, eyes sparkling, and reached behind her to unhook the bra, the condom packets crackling in her hands. He watched as she took the bra and tossed it aside, and she walked to the bed, hips swaying. Sutherland was trying to keep the grin from his face, and having difficulty doing so. After lengthy travel and a day that had been largely one frustration after another, she was like a balm for his soul.
“Shoes on or off?” she asked.
“Mine or yours?”
Lacey shot him an amused look, and kicked off her shoes, tossing the condoms onto the bed and beckoning him with a finger.
“Get over here and grope me, would you? It’s bloody freezing in here.”
“I can turn up the heat, if you like.”
“Counting on the both of us doing that naturally.” She ran her hands over his chest, fingers plucking at the buttons of his shirt. “You smell good. I’d forgotten how good. You look good, too.”
“You look beautiful,” he said honestly, and Lacey smiled, her eyes sparkling.
“Getting all romantic on me, Prime Minister?”
“Is that bad?” he asked, and she smirked.
“No, but I thought we could leave it for the post-coital snuggle.”
“As you wish.”
Her fingers had gotten all the buttons open and dropped to his belt, drawing the length of leather through the buckle. Sutherland shrugged out of the shirt, the coolness of the room making him shiver slightly, and Lacey leaned in to suck on his nipple, tongue running over it and sending jolts of pleasure through him. He let his fingers push into her hair, soft curls slipping through them, and she raised her head, lunging to press her mouth to his, her lips soft and wet.
Sutherland pushed her backwards onto the bed, falling with her as the giggles burst out of her. He kissed down her neck, lips trailing over her skin and on down her chest to fasten over a hardened nipple. Lacey let out a contented hum, dragging her nails across his scalp and making him shudder in pleasure, goosebumps rippling over his skin. He kissed down over her belly, hands sliding down her thighs and tugging at her stockings, and he knelt up, drawing them down one at time and tugging them off at her feet.
“Well, your feet are like ice, so I guess at least we know you don’t have a fever,” he remarked.
“Told you,” she said, with a smirk. “You’re safe from me.”
“Doesn’t feel that way right now.”
Lacey grinned wickedly, lifting a foot to shove playfully at his chest..
“Whatever I have to dish out, big guy, I’m pretty sure you can take it.”
“Oh, I’ll fucking try,” he growled. 
He took off his pants, and Lacey watched avidly, dark hair falling over her face in shining curls as he pushed them over his hips with his underwear. She licked her lips, and he crawled up the bed, his body pushing between her legs until he was pressed up against her. Lacey flung an arm to the side, grasping around until she grabbed one of the condoms, and he pushed up onto his knees again to put it on. She twisted on the bed, getting to her knees and running her hands over his chest as he struggled with the packet before taking it off him. Sutherland put his arms around her neck, letting his head roll back with a sigh as she took him firmly in hand. Lacey squeezed, making him groan, and he looked up again, watching a grin curve her lips.
“Seems like you’re ready for me,” she whispered, and her eyes flicked up to meet his, their usual clear blue darker and deeper in the dim light. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes,” he said softly.
Her grin widened, and she rolled on the condom, leaning in to kiss him again before easing them onto their sides on the bed and rolling him onto his back. She wriggled until she was straddling him, the heat of her against his lower belly, and Sutherland let his eyes roam over her curves, pale skin turned warm in the lamplight. He patted her hips.
“Get up here,” he growled. “Let me taste how sweet you are.”
Lacey shifted, moving up the bed on hands and knees, her breasts brushing against his lips as he tugged her higher, until her knees were either side of his head, and the heat and scent of her bathed his face. He pressed a kiss to her, his nose brushing over her skin, and the tip of his tongue curled out, easing between the soft folds of flesh. Lacey moaned, fingers twisting in his hair, and he let out a low growl as he tasted her. He licked again, teasing her, tongue rubbing over the tiny pearl of her clit, and she gasped, rising up on her knees a little, pushing against his mouth.
He inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of her arousal deep inside, his hands squeezing her rear as he devoured her, tongue swirling and stroking. Lacey moaned, rocking against his mouth, one hand leaving his hair to brace herself against the wall. He let her find a rhythm, moving his tongue in time, listening to her moans rise in pitch and feeling her thighs tremble against him. 
Lacey let out a cry as she came, her body twitching and bucking, and he could taste the salty sweetness of her spreading over his tongue as a deep groan rumbled through him. Her moans quietened, her movements slowing, and she sank back onto his chest, her breasts brushing against his nose as she moved down the bed and pushed herself upright with her hands on his belly. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips glistening, and he was aware that he had a self-satisfied grin on his face. Lacey raised her head, eyes catching his.
“Amazing,” she whispered. “But that’s another one for me. I’m building up a hell of a debt here.”
“What’s a few screaming orgasms between friends?” he said lazily, and Lacey chuckled.
“Is that what we are?”
“We’re not enemies,” he said, and she inclined her head.
“Very true,” she agreed. “Even so, I hate feeling indebted. I may have to spend an entire weekend just making you come.”
“That sounds - dreadful,” he said, in a deadpan tone, and she giggled.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly. “You ready?”
“Be gentle with me,” he said, and she let out a low and dirty chuckle.
“You don’t mean that.”
Sutherland shrugged, grinning.
“True enough.”
“I can be gentle later on, if you like.”
“Thanks. Have a feeling I’ll need it.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” she demanded, and he smirked.
“I’m a politician. Cautious by nature.”
“Hmm.” She lifted up, reaching between them to grasp his cock and squeeze. “Then buckle up.”
She guided him inside, sinking down onto him in one swift, smooth movement, and Sutherland threw his head back against the pillows, arching up into her with a low groan of pleasure. Lacey moaned, moving her hips in small, slow circles, grinding against him and sending waves of sensation through his body. Her fingers slid up his chest, thumbs rubbing over his nipples in time with her circling hips, and Sutherland closed his eyes, letting the heat of her body and the pleasure of her touch wash over him. His mouth and chin was still sticky with her fluids, her sweet musk drifting into his nose as he breathed deeply.
She was gradually increasing the circles that her hips made, rolling against him, letting his cock slide out almost to the tip before pushing back in, the feel of it making him want to shove her onto her back and thrust inside her hard and fast. Instead he let her set the pace, hands sliding up her thighs and feeling her firm muscles jump beneath her skin as she moved. He opened his eyes, watching the way her hips rolled, golden light gleaming on the curves of her body, her lips full and parted, glistening wet from the pass of her tongue. 
She opened her eyes, locking her gaze onto his, and Sutherland rose up into a sitting position, an arm going around her waist and holding her tight against him as his mouth found hers. Lacey rocked against him, moaning into his mouth as her pace quickened, heat and friction building between them, and he bucked his hips in time with her, thrusting into her, a wave of bliss rising up inside and making his skin tingle and hum. Lacey whimpered, arms around his neck, her pace quickening, and he pulled his mouth from hers with a loud groan as he came, his cock pulsing inside her. She let out a moaning cry, flesh tugging at him, gripping him tight, and he let his head roll back, groaning and thrusting as she pulled every drop from him.
He tried to catch his breath, his skin tingling and his heart thumping hard in his chest. Lacey was still moaning contentedly, and he slumped back a little on the bed, arm around her as she stilled, gasping for breath. Sutherland buried his face in the hollow between her neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply and tasting salt on her skin as he kissed her gently.
“Whoa!” she gasped, and he smiled against her neck.
“That about covers it.”
Lacey sighed, and he loosened his grip, letting her lean back a little and grasp the base of the condom, holding it firmly in place as she pulled off him, lips curving in a slow, lazy grin. 
“Just as good as I remember,” she murmured. “Glad I brought more condoms.”
“How long are you giving me to recover?” he asked. “It might take a little while before we can do that again.”
Lacey pursed her lips.
“Oh, I have ideas on how to fill the time while we wait,” she said.
“So do I,” he growled.
He rolled them, pushing her onto her back and beginning to kiss his way down. It was going to be another gloriously long, exhausting night.
32 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Desperation - chapter 11
Tumblr media
25: “I’ll trade you”
[AO3]
x
Making the cupcakes was fun. Bae managed to find aprons for them both and helped to measure out the ingredients and beat the eggs as Belle mixed the butter and sugar together. Bae had suggested that they make a carrot cake mix, and Belle thought this was a good idea; grated carrot would at least get a little nutrition into Gold if he ate some. She added chopped walnuts and spices to the mix, and after making up the cake batter they spooned it into paper cases packed into a tray. Bae sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, licking cake batter from the wooden spoon they had used to mix it. Belle had run a finger around the bowl herself, and had to admit that it tasted pretty good.
“What frosting do you want?” she asked, as she slid the tray into the oven.
“I don’t think we have any cream cheese, so buttercream, I guess.”
“Ooh, yum!” Belle began washing the mixing bowl, ready to make the frosting. “You think your dad will like these?”
“Course he will, because we made them,” said Bae, with certainty. “He likes chocolate cake, too. And oatmeal raisin cookies. Can we make cookies?”
“Let’s see how the cupcakes turn out first,” said Belle, smiling at his enthusiasm. “How was Neal? Did you get to see the kittens?”
“They were sleeping with their mom,” said Bae. “He showed me on the phone. They’re so cute! His mom says I can go get them when the Mayor lets us out. I want the little black one with the white feet, and the stripey one.”
“They sound adorable,” she said, scrubbing the bowl clean. “Kittens like playing and getting into stuff. Your dad’s yarn could be in trouble.”
“Oh, yeah.” Bae looked thoughtful. “We’ll have to keep an eye on them if they’re in the lounge, I guess.”
“Will he mind if they mess things up?”
“He wouldn’t yell at them,” said Bae. “Papa never yells. I don’t want them to wreck his stuff though, even if they’re just playing. Maybe we can make them some toys.”
Belle thought for a moment.
“Do you know how to make pom-poms?” she asked. “If your Papa has some spare wool, we could make some and put them on strings for the kittens to chase.”
Bae looked excited.
“Yeah! I think I remember,” he said. “Papa showed me how. We cut circles out of card and wind wool through, right?”
“Right.” Belle dried the mixing bowl. “We’ll need to ask your dad if we can use some of his wool. Maybe this afternoon, when we’ve finished all the baking you want to do.”
“Okay. Cool.”
“In that case, why don’t you get the powdered sugar, and we’ll make the buttercream?” suggested Belle.
x
The cupcakes were soon sitting on a rack, filling the kitchen with the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and covered with craggy crowns of buttercream. They had also made two batches of cookies (oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip), and they were cooling on wire racks, ready to go in the cookie jar. Belle finished the load of laundry, and folded the clothes, packing them into the laundry basket to be taken upstairs. Bae helped to fold the sheets, but that seemed to drain him of all energy, and Belle surmised that he had still not fully recovered from the virus. He was unusually subdued, his natural energy having disappeared, and so she sent him to the lounge with a glass of milk and a cupcake and told him to rest. 
She peeked in on Gold when she took the clean laundry upstairs, but he was sleeping soundly, so she left him to it, setting the clean clothes down on his dresser and tiptoeing out. Bae had put the TV on, but when she put her head around the lounge door he was also asleep. Smiling to herself, she put the crochet blanket over him and went to clean up in the kitchen.
By the time the sun was setting, Belle felt as though her feet were ready to fall off. Bae came shuffling through just as she was preparing dinner, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
“Hey!” she said, smiling as she slid the mac and cheese into the oven. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” He wrinkled his nose. “I fell asleep.”
“You sure did,” she said. “I was going to take your dad a cup of tea and one of these cupcakes. You want to help?”
“Can I take him a cookie too?”
“I’m sure he’d love that.” Belle went to pour out the tea. “You did a great job on mixing that dough. Quite the chef.”
“Papa lets me help him bake.”
“Well, you’re both very talented,” she said. “It’s lucky I’m staying with you, or I’d never get to make anything this delicious.”
Bae beamed at her as he put one of the cakes and a cookie on a small plate.
“Where’s your house, Belle?” he asked.
“Oh, I just have an apartment above the library,” she said. “It’s small, only one bedroom, but I guess It’s enough for now.”
“But if it’s above the library, you don’t have a garden,” he said. “Where do you grow vegetables?”
Belle gave him a rueful smile.
“I’m afraid I never quite got around to growing my own food,” she said. “I have to rely on the store.”
“We can’t grow everything we want,” Bae conceded. “There’s no fruit trees and we don’t have a pumpkin patch. But it’s okay because we forage in the woods and we swap stuff with Neal’s dad and with Anton. He has a farm too.”
“Oh, so you swap for things you don’t have?” Belle added milk to the cups and stirred. “That makes sense.”
“Yeah, like maybe Anton has too many pumpkins, and Papa has too many carrots, so they say “I’ll trade you” and then everyone gets to eat good things.”
“Sounds perfect,” said Belle, smiling at his enthusiasm. “Come on, let’s take your dad his tea.”
Gold was awake when they entered the room, and had propped himself up on the pillows a little. His breathing was still uneven, and he looked hollow-eyed and exhausted, but he smiled warmly at Bae and hugged him tight.
“We made cupcakes!” Bae announced, his voice a little muffled by Gold’s T-shirt. “And cookies! Your favourite.”
“Well, you have been busy.” Gold kissed the top of his head. “Let’s have a taste.”
“We made a carrot cake mix,” said Belle, as Gold took a bite. “We thought it would do you good, get some nutrition inside you.”
“They have nuts in, too!” put in Bae.
Gold made noises of enjoyment, nodding his head as he chewed. There was a blob of frosting on the edge of his lip, and Belle watched as he swiped at it with a long finger and sucked it off. His eyes flicked to hers, and she looked away.
“Delicious,” he said.
“Try the cookies!” said Bae excitedly. “We put the big raisins in.”
Belle bit her lip in amusement as Gold dutifully ate the cookie.
“I can see Granny has competition on her hands,” he said, his voice lower and rougher with coughing. You two could open up a bakery together.”
Bae wriggled with delight, and Belle set the cup of tea down on the nightstand.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, and he lay back against the pillows with a sigh.
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll be better soon.”
He held her gaze steadily, and Belle picked up on the silent message.
“Bae, your dad didn’t try the chocolate chip cookies yet,” she said. “You want to go get him one?”
“Yeah!”
Bae trotted off happily, and Belle turned back to Gold, folding her arms.
“How are you really feeling?” she asked, and he screwed up his face.
“Feels like there’s a ton of weight on my chest,” he said. “It’s exhausting, honestly.”
“Well, you just stay in bed,” she said firmly. “Bae and I have everything under control.”
“So I see.” He gave her a slanted grin. “How is he?”
“He took a nap this afternoon,” she said. “I think he’d overdone things a little. But he’s a lot better this evening. He’s on the mend.”
“Good.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, and reached for his tea. “Sorry about earlier. I wasn’t expecting to find you in my bedroom.”
“Oh, it’s fine, really,” she said hurriedly, feeling her cheeks start to heat. “Just - bad timing, that’s all.”
“Yes.” He took a drink. “Well. I’ll be sure to be more careful while you’re here. No more unexpected nudity.”
“In that case I promise I’ll do likewise,” she said primly, and he chuckled.
“If you could. In my delicate state I don’t think my heart could take it.” 
Belle giggled, still blushing, and he grinned and took another drink of tea.
“At least I know Bae’s in good hands while I’m lying here like a useless lump,” he said. “He seems to have taken a shine to you. It’s nice to see.”
“He’s a great kid,” she said honestly. “You must be very proud of him.”
“Yeah.” He smiled, setting down his cup. “Best thing I ever did with my life.”
“And he’s worried about you,” she added. “To be honest, so am I. I know we really only just met, but I - I kind of feel like we’re friends. Are we friends?”
His smile grew a little.
“Of course,” he said. “You’ve been a true friend to us this past week. I won’t forget it.”
She smiled, and he looked hesitant, glancing across at her. 
“When all this is over,” he said. “When you go back to your own life and - and you get busy with running the library, I hope you’ll come and visit us. Maybe - maybe for dinner, or something.”
“Now that I know how good you both are at cooking?” she teased. “I’ll be over here so often you’ll get sick of the sight of me.”
Gold’s smile grew soft, dark eyes gleaming in the light of the lamps.
“I don’t think that would be possible,” he said quietly.
37 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Pandemic prompt-a-thon
Fuck it, the world’s going to hell and we all need some fun things to get us through the dark times. So here - a list of pandemic/quarantine-based prompts.
“I picked up some supplies. Thought you might need them”
“Great. End of the world and I’m stuck with you. Kill me now.”
“Please - he’s burning up!”
“No, you take it. You need it more.”
“Please tell me there’s something edible in there”
“You don’t look so good”
“I’m sure if we pull together we can get through this”
“I just wanted to check in on you”
“How are you feeling?”
“Stop. Hoarding. Toilet paper!”
“Oh, I’m fine. I never get sick”
“So... apparently we’re in lockdown.”
“Any ideas on how we can amuse ourselves?”
“I’m afraid there’s only one bed”
“I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck here with only me for company”
“Which side of the bed do you usually sleep on?”
“God, would you turn off the news?”
“Well, your feet are like ice, so I guess at least we know you don’t have a fever”
“Have you tried the hospital?”
“I’m scared”
“Wash your hands!”
“I just don’t know what to do”
“How much toilet paper does one person need anyway?”
“You can move closer, I don’t bite”
“I’ll trade you”
“Here. This’ll make you feel better”
“Is there anything more I can do?”
“Please. Let me help you”
“This fucking thing can’t be stopped”
“I’ve been practising social isolation for years anyway”
“You look much better”
“God, I’m going crazy locked indoors like this!”
“I’m gonna have to break curfew, aren’t I?”
“Remember when we used to leave the house? Fun times.”
“I’m used to being alone”
“We could pool resources”
“It’s hard to flirt when we can’t go within six feet of each other”
“Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine!”
“I can’t let you do this alone”
“These things either bring out the best or the worst in people”
“What did the doctor say?”
“You know what I’m going to do when all this is over?”
“Not everyone’s gonna make it”
“I’m - kind of broke”
“I won’t leave you. I promise”
84 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Note
I'm having massive anxiety attacks over COVID-19 so for the promptathon I'd like to submit 14, and I hope it hasnt been done yet. If it was, then 18 ;-) Thank you for doing this!
14: “I’m afraid there’s only one bed”
You know what I’m about...
This is a continuation of Curfew and is inspired by two posts on unusual words by @bibliosauruswrecks
Prompt list here
[AO3]
x
“Scrabble?” said Belle. “Are you sure?”
When Gold had asked if she wanted to play a game, she had agreed readily. The tiny grin he had and the gleam in his eyes was too intriguing to resist. If she was entirely honest with herself, she had been hoping he would propose something a little more shocking than Scrabble, and told herself off for her libido’s ability to twist the most innocent of statements. Face it, Belle, he was unlikely to suggest a game of who can orgasm the most in a single night. Which is a pity because I bet the answer would be you. 
“I thought, as a librarian, you might appreciate it,” said Gold, sliding the box out from the middle of the small pile of board games she had. “Perhaps we can teach each other some new words.”
“Well, I could never object to that,” she said, and he grinned, catching her eye as he stepped past her to the kitchen.
“In that case,” he said. “Perhaps you’d care to make things interesting. A small wager with the spoils to the winner?”
Belle followed him in, watching as he set the box on the table and pulled out her chair.
“What are the stakes?” she asked, and the smile grew, revealing the gold tooth on his lower jaw.
“Oh, I don’t know just yet.”
“You’re expecting me to agree to something without knowing the terms?” she asked flatly, and he shrugged.
“I did say let’s make it interesting.”
She couldn’t quite decide whether he was flirting or not, but either way she was feeling reckless, and she put her hands on her hips, raising her chin.
“Alright, you’re on,” she said defiantly.
“Good. In that case, shall we have another glass of wine?”
“Trying to get me drunk in the hope it’ll put me off my game?” she asked, and he grinned.
“You got me.”
“Well, it won’t work. I’m the Scrabble queen.”
“All hail Your Majesty,” said Gold, bowing his head. “But I won’t be prostrating myself at your feet just yet.”
“Huh.” She took a seat, reaching for the wine bottle. “We’ll see about that.”
x
“Oh come on!”
Belle huffed in irritation as Gold placed his final tile.
“Blatherskite? Are you serious?”
He smirked.
“Look it up.”
Growling under her breath, Belle reached for her dictionary. It had already been well thumbed during the two games they had played, for words both of them had used. It was one game each, and they were most of the way through the decider. She had been winning. Until Gold broke out ‘blatherskite’, of course. She grumbled when she found the word, and closed the dictionary with a thump.
“Okay, fine,” she said loftily. “You can have that one.”
“Very generous of you.”
Belle drank the rest of her wine, setting down the glass and totting up the score. She was feeling a little light-headed; they had finished one bottle and started on a second, and she had enjoyed their games. Gold was excellent company, highly intelligent, with a dry sense of humour that complemented her own. Sitting across the table from him hadn’t helped her deal with her rising lust, and her attention had wandered on occasion to what he might be hiding underneath those close-fitting suits. Gold seemed oblivious to her desire. Or perhaps he wasn’t remotely interested in her. Now there was a depressing thought.
Shaking her head, she turned to her own tiles, chewing her lip as she studied the board. Gold reached out to pour them some wine, and Belle’s eyes flicked between the tiles and the board. I can’t put that. Seriously, brain, is that all you can come up with?
“Do you forfeit, Miss French?”
Belle glanced up, a blush rising in her cheeks. He was watching her with a tiny grin on his face, lounging in the chair as his long fingers stroked the stem of the wine glass.
“Did you decide on the stakes yet?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“I’m still thinking that one through.”
“Huh. In that case I’m not forfeiting anything.” 
She inhaled deeply, reaching for a tile and spelling out O-R-G-A-S-M. Gold raised an eyebrow, his twisted smile growing a little.
“Really?” he drawled. “So early in the game?”
“We don’t all have to work up to a big finish,” she said, and he chuckled.
“Touché.”
Belle totted up her score, then took some more tiles and sat back, pleased with herself. He looked amused, and she took a sip of wine as she watched him studying his own tiles. Okay, I threw him a line and he didn’t run in horror, so that’s something.
“You stuck?” she asked cheerfully, and Gold glanced up.
“Not at all,” he said. “I’m just wondering whether I should spell out something innocuous or follow you into the gutter.”
“Hey, you can have a ton of fun in the gutter.”
“I imagine so.” Fingertips caressed the tops of his tiles. “Very well.”
He used five tiles, expanding on her word to spell out his own: S-Y-N-O-R-G-A-S-M-I-A. Belle sucked in a breath, and he looked up, meeting her gaze.
“Do you want to look that one up?” he asked softly, and she shook her head, her blush deepening.
“No, I know what it means,” she said. “Simultaneous orgasm, right?”
“Mutual pleasure,” he said. “Correct.”
He was still looking at her, and she could feel that low-down tug in her belly as her arousal grew.
“Well, I guess that’s one way to pass the time,” she said, and Gold’s eyes gleamed.
“One of many.”
Belle grinned, enjoying the flirting. Her eyes roved the board as she considered the tiles she had. Early in the game, when her tiles had been little but Qs and Xs, she had resorted to spelling out fell. The excess of vowels she now had would come in useful. Her eyes flicked up to meet Gold’s, and she licked her lips as she selected her tiles, spelling out her chosen word F-E-L-L-A-T-I-O. Gold’s grin turned wicked.
“Really?” he said. “What a promising choice.”
“Another way to pass the time, perhaps,” she said innocently.
“Indeed.”
She scored her word while he looked at his tiles, sitting back when she was done and taking a drink of wine. Gold was still glancing between the board and his tiles.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, and he shrugged, gesturing at her last word.
“I’m afraid I don’t have enough tiles to return the favour,” he said, and Belle giggled.
“Does that mean I win?”
Gold sat back in his chair with a secretive smile on his face.
“Perhaps.”
“You didn’t decide on the stakes in this wager,” she said. “What do I get?”
“What do you want?”
Belle hesitated, her heart thumping. She knew very well what she wanted, but although they had been flirting quite shamelessly for a little while, she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. He was watching her, a glint in his eyes, and she decided to go for it. If she totally misread the situation, she could always blame the wine. She took a deep breath, gesturing at the Scrabble board.
“I - I want to try another way of passing the time,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed on his. Her heart was high in her throat, but Gold smiled, drumming his fingers slowly on the table top.
“Very well,” he said. “In that case, let’s put the board away. It’s getting late.”
“Yes.”
He took a drink, and Belle did the same. Desire was rising in her, making her skin tingle and causing an insistent throb in her groin. Gold set down his glass, the tip of his tongue sweeping across his lips.
“You were very kind to invite me up here tonight,” he said quietly. “I’m grateful you offered me a place to stay.”
“Yeah, about that…” Belle put down her glass. “I’m afraid there’s only one bed.”
“I see.”
His eyebrows twitched, a corner of his mouth pulling upwards.
“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” he asked softly.
“No.”
“Very well.”
Gold pushed back his chair, getting to his feet, and held out a hand to her.
“Shall we see how many ways we can find to pass the time?”
65 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Note
I think curfew Rumbelle need #24 :D
24: “You can move closer. I don’t bite”
[AO3]
x
Belle could feel her heart thumping in her chest as she led Gold out of the kitchen and along the corridor to her bedroom. His hand was warm and smooth in hers, and she licked her lips as she opened her bedroom door, releasing him to go and turn on the corner lamp. It cast a warm, pleasant glow around the room, and she glanced around, snatching a discarded sweater off the bed and tossing it over the back of a chair.
“It’s a lovely room,” he said, from behind her.
She turned to face him, leaning back against the bed frame with her hands behind her back, gripping the metal frame tightly. His gaze was steady, the light gleaming in his eyes, his hands folded over the handle of his cane. He was still wearing his waistcoat over the silk shirt, the tie knotted at his throat, and she could feel excitement rise within her at the thought of peeling all that silk from his skin, baring it to her sight.
“First time anyone but me has been in here,” she said, and he smiled slightly.
“I’m honoured.”
“I don’t make a habit of this,” she added. “Asking people to stay the night, I mean.”
“It wouldn’t be any of my business if you did,” he said. “But I don’t, either. For the record.”
“I guess if you did, all of Storybrooke would know, right?” she said, and his smile grew a little.
“The perils of living in a small town,” he said. “I like to keep my private life as private as I can, that’s true enough.”
“Well, with the lockdown in place, I doubt we’ll be disturbed by anyone looking to check out books,” she said. “You can sleep with the librarian, and no one will know.”
That tiny smile again.
“Maybe I wouldn’t mind all that much if they did.”
There was a softness in his eyes as he said it, and it made her smile. Perhaps he wanted more than a quick one-nighter. The thought was a pleasant one. She decided to test the water a little.
“Before things go any further, I just wanted you to know that I enjoyed tonight,” she said. “The food, the company, the conversation… It was probably the best date I’ve had. Without it being an actual date, I mean.”
He smiled at that.
“We’re well suited, Miss French, wouldn’t you agree?” he said. “Who else would agree to play Scrabble with me without knowing the stakes, after all?”
“Who else would spell out synorgasmia?” she returned, and the tip of his tongue stroked between his lips, his eyes gleaming.
“I believe you were the one to make the initial overture,” he said. “I was only building on your word, after all. Not to mention the oral sex reference in your next offering.”
“Clearly well suited.”
She was amused, and he looked as though he was enjoying their verbal dance as much as she. Gold’s fingers flexed on the cane handle as he shifted his weight a little.
“So,” he said. “Since we’re so open with each other, perhaps we should discuss the practicalities.”
“I have condoms,” she said immediately.
“Good, that makes things easier. I don’t carry them around, as a rule.”
“You don’t believe in being prepared?” she teased, and he grinned.
“Oh, I do, but I wasn’t prepared for being propositioned by the librarian.”
“Sounds like bad planning on your part,” she said. “Or wilful blindness, seeing as I’ve had a crush on you since day one and haven’t been all that subtle about it.”
“Evidently too subtle for me,” he remarked.
“Evidently,” she said, amused. “So, if you don’t have condoms, how were you planning on handling this if I didn’t have any?”
Gold’s grin was toothy.
“I was planning on being very inventive,” he said, and Belle giggled.
“Might hold you to that anyway.”
He smirked, lifting a hand and spreading his fingers.
“We have all night.”
His voice was low and somewhat rasping, and she wondered if it was his desire showing through. Her own lust was rising, the fire inside her stoked by the sound of his voice, the faint scent of him on the air and the way his clothes draped his slim frame. He was always so calm, so polite and composed. She wanted to see him lost in passion, to hear him swear and shout her name, to feel him come inside her.
“You can move closer,” he said, making her start. “I don’t bite.”
He grinned when he said it, a gleam of gold showing on his lower jaw, and Belle felt a pull in her lower belly, a tug of desire. She stepped forward, and he moved his cane to the side as she inched closer, her toes almost touching his. His scent was stronger, expensive cologne over a warm musk that was making her feel lightheaded. Her chest was just brushing against his shirt, and she imagined that she could already feel the heat of his body. He bent his head a little, and she could feel his breath, cool against her lips, the tip of his nose just brushing hers.
“What do you want, Belle?” he growled, his voice a low rumble, and she shivered.
“Kiss me.”
He laid his cane against the dresser, turning back to her and reaching up with both hands to caress her cheeks. Belle sucked in a breath at his touch, shivering as his hands moved down to stroke the sides of her neck, fingers caressing the sensitive nape and making her shudder with pleasure. His lips gently brushed against hers, soft as feathers, and he let out a deep groan as the kiss deepened, his tongue gently sliding into her mouth, his grip tightening as she let her tongue stroke against his. He tasted of rich red wine: tannin and cherries and spice, and she moaned a little as her hands slid around his waist, pulling him close and pressing herself against him.
The kiss grew frantic, messy, and she could feel the rigid length of his cock pressing into her belly, hard and insistent. She ran her hands up his chest, feeling the firm lines of his chest beneath her palms, and plucked at the knot of his tie, breaking the kiss so that she could pull back and prise it open. Gold was breathing hard, his eyes dark, strands of his hair clinging to his cheekbones, and she got the tie undone, tugging it from his collar and tossing it onto the chair before going to work on the buttons of his waistcoat and pushing it from his shoulders.
Gold plucked at his cufflinks, getting them off and slipping them into his pants pocket as Belle bent to grasp the hem of her dress and peel it off over her head, leaving her in her leggings and underwear. He was gazing at her, eyes flicking over her body with a look of hunger, and after a moment of hesitation she took off her bra, tossing it aside and going to work on his shirt. Her hands were shaking a little, but she managed to get it open and push it down his arms, and he let it flutter to the floor behind him before grasping her upper arms firmly and turning them both on his good foot to shove her hard against the wall. Belle gasped as her back hit the cold drywall, the breath gushing out of her, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and hungry.
She bent one leg, sliding it up his thigh to hook around and tug him closer, and his hands cupped her breasts, squeezing as he pulled his mouth from hers, kissing down her neck. Her heart was thumping, her breathing shallow and rapid, and Gold drew his tongue up her neck, swirling over her pulse point and making her shiver as his lips found her ear.
“I’m afraid that standing unaided isn’t all that easy for me,” he whispered. “So if you don’t mind I’m just going to change position.”
His hands slid down her waist, fingers catching in the waistband of her leggings and pushing them down over her hips with her panties. He sank down onto his knees, tugging the leggings off at her feet, and slid his hands slowly up her bare thighs, kneeling up a little until his face was level with her belly, his nose brushing over the hollow of her navel. Belle sucked in a breath as his lips trailed over her skin, his hands gently pushing her legs apart as he kissed lower. His nose traced a line down the crease of her inner thigh, and she gasped as he pressed soft kisses to her sex, his breath hot against her tender skin.
Belle closed her eyes, hands stroking through his hair, and let out a tiny moan at the first touch of his tongue. He parted her folds, tongue sliding over her flesh, and she moaned louder, her head thumping back against the wall. Gold let out a deep groan, lifting one leg to drape it over his shoulder so that he could reach more of her, his tongue swirling and stabbing. She could feel pleasure rising up inside her, making her breathing stutter and her cheeks heat. A finger gently pushed against her, sliding inside, and she moaned at the feel of it, at the building sensations. Gold had settled into a rhythm, his tongue swirling over her flesh, grazing her clit in slow, steady circles, and she tightened her grip on his hair, feeling her skin tingle as she neared her peak.
Pleasure burst through her, and she let out a cry as she came, her legs trembling as her body jerked. Gold drew out the finger and put his mouth to her, a deep groan vibrating through her as his tongue pushed inside. He drew back a little, tongue flickering over her tender flesh, and she tried to calm her racing heart, her cheeks and chest flushed, her skin burning. He pressed kisses to her, moving up over her belly to her breasts, his hands cupping her as he sucked at a nipple, and Belle moaned, licking sweat from her upper lip as her heart thumped hard in her chest.
“Whoa!” she gasped. “That was - wow!”
Gold pushed to his feet, a little unsteady without his cane to help him. There was a sly grin on his face that was the picture of smug self-satisfaction, and it made her want to return the favour. The game of Scrabble had given them both ideas, it seemed. He put his hands on the wall either side of her, leaning in to rest his brow against hers, and she could smell herself on him, his skin sticky with the scent of her arousal.
“You taste delicious,” he whispered. “Just as sweet as I thought you would.”
His voice was a low growl, a bass tone that made her belly clench, and she kissed him hungrily, hands sinking into his hair, revelling in the softness of it slipping between her fingers. She heard the clink of a belt buckle, the whisper of clothing against skin and a soft thump as his pants hit the floor, and she let her hands drop to his waist and slide down to cup his rear, feeling the softness of silk underwear between her fingers. Sliding her hands around to push him back, she slipped around him, grasping his hand and pulling him to the bed with her. His foot caught in the rug, and he stumbled, swearing into her mouth before they fell onto the bed. Belle started to giggle, and he let out a low chuckle before she kissed him again. 
Shifting position to straighten them up, he let his head thump against the pillows, and Belle began to kiss her way down his chest, lips finding first one nipple, then the other, sucking them into her mouth and rubbing her tongue over the taut peaks. Gold groaned, fingers stroking through her hair, and she moved lower, over his belly and down to the waistband of his boxers. She could see the line of his cock, pushing up against black silk, and she slowly drew a finger along its length, making him jerk and gasp. The finger traced another path, this time a little harder, and Gold growled low in his throat, making her grin. She swept the fingertip downwards, circling his balls, and the growl became a low moan.
“God, Belle!” he whispered.
Smirking to herself, she reached up to gently grasp the waistband of his underwear and slowly pull it down over his hips. The hair between his legs was dark, a little coarser than that on his legs, and the scent of him was stronger, making her mouth water. She let her finger trace the shape of his cock again, following the weaving path of the large vein that led up to the head, the skin there soft as silk. Bending, she brushed her lips against him, a delicate kiss, and he sucked in a breath, his body tensing. Belle let her tongue stroke up his length, tasting salt on his skin, hearing his panting breath as his fingers stilled in her hair. Taking him in hand, she lifted his cock upwards and licked her lips, sliding them over the head and taking him deep.
Gold arched upwards, his head rolling back as he let out a deep, shuddering groan. Belle sucked at him, mouth sliding slowly up and down his length, saliva running down over her hand where she gripped him. His hips were rocking in time with her, and he hit the soft flesh at the back of her mouth, making her throat close up. She pulled back a little, sucking hard, her cheeks hollowing around him. Glancing up, she could see that he had raised his head and was watching her, mouth open and eyes dark with need. She let him slip from her mouth, licking her lips again before taking him inside, and Gold let his head thump back against the pillows with a whispered curse.
Belle smirked to herself, letting her lips slide slowly down his length as her tongue curled around him. He was breathing hard, his fingers tangled in her hair, and there was something exhilarating about having the man who owned most of Storybrooke, the man who made people cross the street when they saw him, so completely at her mercy. No matter what paths their lives might take after this night, she wanted to ensure that he never forgot how they spent their time in lockdown. She wanted him to remember her. And what she did to him.
“Belle!”
It was whispered almost reverently, and she sucked hard, saliva making her lips slippery. Gold let out a deep, guttural groan, his back arching, and his fingers tightened in her hair.
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna burst!” he gasped. “Please!”
Belle let him slip from between her lips, raising her head. He was staring at her, a desperate expression on his face. A bead of whitish fluid had leaked from the head of his cock, shining in the low light, and she bent to lick it off, holding his eyes with hers as she tasted his salt. Gold closed his eyes with a low groan.
“God, you’re killing me!” he breathed, and she chuckled.
“Not yet.” She kissed her way up his chest, pushing herself up on the palms of her hands to look down on him. “You sure you don’t want me to finish? We do have all night.”
His eyes flicked open, dark and deep, and without warning he grabbed her, making her squeal in surprise as he rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. His nose gently traced the line of hers, his hair brushing her cheeks.
“Oh, we have all night,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “But when I come, I want to be buried deep inside you, Belle. I want to make you come all around me and I want to feel it.”
She felt her breath quicken, her lips still wet with saliva, and he kissed her, his mouth hot and wet and sweet. His cock was hard against her thigh, achingly close to where she needed him, and she broke the kiss, reaching to the side to tug at the drawer of the nightstand.
“Condom,” she said.
He pushed up on his knees, scrabbling in the drawer and pulling out a condom, the plastic packet crackling in his hands. Belle closed her eyes, her heart thumping hard as she listened to him opening up the condom. Opening one eye a crack, she watched him roll it on, hand gripping his cock as he shifted position between her legs. He raised his head, his eyes catching hers.
“Okay?” he said, and she nodded vehemently. 
He gave her a brief smile, then shifted his hips, the head of his cock sliding inside her. Belle let out a tiny moan, opening her legs a little wider, and he pushed his way slowly into her as she drew up her knees, letting him sink all the way in until she felt the press of his skin against hers, his balls brushing against her. A low, rumbling groan came from him as he slid home, and he bent to press his forehead to hers, breathing hard as he settled in place. 
She wrapped her legs around him, enjoying the feel of him deep inside, and reached up to stroke his hair back from his face. Gold was staring at her with a look of perplexed wonder, as though he couldn’t quite believe she was real, and so she kissed him, head lifting up to capture his lips with her own, pulling him back down with her as his tongue stroked hers. He began to move: a slow, deliberate circling of his hips, grinding against her and sending waves of sensation through her from the friction of his hair and her juices and their mingled saliva.
Belle moaned, arching upwards into him, eyes closed as she breathed in the scent of him. Sweat was forming between them, a thin, slippery layer where their bodies were joined and where her breasts pressed against his chest. He felt good buried inside, his cock hard and thick within her, and she lifted her hips, letting him push deeper. Gold groaned, sliding his hands up her body, up her arms, the fingers threading through hers and pushing her hands back down into the pillows as he thrust. He kissed her, his tongue gently teasing, and she could feel the sensations building once again, the rhythmic grind of his body against hers working her up to climax. 
She pulled her mouth from his, pushing her head back into the pillows, her breath coming in pants as she neared her peak. A tiny whimper burst from her lips, rising to a loud wail as a wave of pleasure crashed over her, stars bursting in her vision, her skin tingling. She pumped her hips, flesh tugging at him as she let out short, wordless cries, and Gold groaned, low and deep, releasing her hands to brace himself against the bed and quickening his pace. She kissed his neck, licking the sweat from him, teeth nipping at his jaw, and he seemed to hold his breath, his hips pumping rapidly before he let out a long, low groan of pleasure as he came. His cock pulsed, a pleasant sensation, and she clung to him as his thrusts became rapid and shallow, as he came inside her. 
Her skin was humming, and she collapsed back in the blankets, gasping for breath. Gold kissed her neck, lips pulling at her skin and tongue stroking gently as his movements slowed and stopped, and she slid her hands up his arms and over his shoulders to sink into his hair again. His lips found her ear, his breath sending shivers through her.
“That was beautiful,” he whispered, and she smiled.
“It really was.”
She could feel him growing soft inside her, and he reached between them, grasping the base of the condom as he pulled out of her. Her limbs were heavy and lazy, and she was well aware that there was a stupid grin on her face that she couldn’t seem to shift. Gold pushed up on his elbows, looking heavy-eyed and content.
“Well,” he said. “That was one way to amuse ourselves, hmm?”
“I think that counts as several ways, rolled into one,” she said, and he grinned.
“Perhaps you’re right.” He leaned in to kiss her gently. “There are certainly worse ways to spend curfew.”
“The night’s not over yet,” she reminded him. “We didn’t quite manage synorgasmia, remember.”
Gold chuckled, his eyes gleaming.
“Is our night being planned in accordance with our Scrabble game, then?”
“Only the dirty stuff,” she said, and he laughed.
“Good thing you have plenty of food. I suspect I’ll need something to keep my energy up.”
“Blow my brains out like that again and I’ll even bring you breakfast in bed,” she teased, and his grin widened.
“How could I refuse?”
He kissed her again, and she made a contented sound, enjoying the feel of him against her. Gold pulled back a little, nuzzling her nose with his.
“So,” he said. “This curfew is every night for the foreseeable future, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Well then,” he said. “My place tomorrow?”
“Will you cook dinner again?” she asked, and he chuckled.
“I’ll make you whatever you like.”
Belle smiled, stroking her fingers through his hair, and nodded.
“Then it’s a date.”
54 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Note
For Rumbelle Pandemic/Quarantine prompts: “Please - he’s burning up!” But can I prompt "she's" instead of "he's"? I'm a sucker for protective/woobie Gold/Weaver.
Prompt list is here
Okay, you asked for it. Since you mentioned Weaver, and you want it to be ‘she’s’ burning up’, I’m going to make TLU Weaver suffer…
[AO3]
Weaver barged through the double doors of the hospital corridor, hearing them swing shut behind him. He was almost running, his daughter cradled in his arms, brown curls damp from the water he had been using to try to bring down her fever. Tilly clutched at his shirt, moaning fretfully as she was jostled by him having to swerve around an old couple shuffling by, masks hiding their faces.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, trying to keep the fear from his voice. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.”
Tilly coughed, and he turned his face away, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing the lack of masks available. The mayor had taken a lead in dealing with the outbreak, and was dealing with things as best she could by rationing supplies and locking down much of the working population, but every state was under-resourced, supplies were low, and the federal government seemed to have gone into hiding.
Through another set of double doors, and he had reached the reception desk, crowds of people standing around talking in raised voices, the medical staff trying to keep order. Weaver hung back a little, not wanting to get too near the others, but quickly slipped into the space left by a young woman pushing an elderly man in a wheelchair, a respirator over his mouth and nose.
“If it’s not the virus and it’s not life-threatening, you’ll have to go home,” said the nurse behind the desk, without preamble.
She looked weary, brown hair tied up and starting to come loose, her face drawn. Weaver felt a stab of sympathy for her.
“It’s my daughter,” he said. “She has it. I - I was looking after her at home, but she’s getting worse by the hour.”
The nurse sighed, reaching for a clipboard. Her name badge read Gale.
“Fill this out,” she said, not unkindly. “Waiting time’s four hours, unless a bed comes up in the children’s ward before then.”
“Four hours?” he said desperately. “Please! She’s burning up!”
Nurse Gale gestured helplessly around at the chaos in the reception area, and Weaver sighed, shifting Tilly into the crook of one arm and reaching for the clipboard.
“Right.”
He began scribbling her details, almost misspelling their address in his tiredness. The noise in the waiting area was a raucous clamour in his head, making it hard to concentrate. When did the symptoms start? Two days ago? Three? When did I last sleep more than an hour?
“Daddy, I feel bad.”
Tilly’s voice was hoarse from coughing, weak and fragile, and Weaver instinctively hugged her closer, kissing her forehead. Nurse Gale’s face softened a little, somehow making her look even wearier.
“How old is she?” she asked.
“Four and a half.”
“You have other kids?”
He hesitated.
“Not yet.”
Nurse Gale glanced around, gesturing to a tall, dark-haired man in blue scrubs, who had just entered the room and was making for the desk.
“Did that Mills kid go home yet?” she asked.
“Five minutes ago, give or take,” he said. “There’s a bed on the kids’ ward. Is this my new patient?” 
Nurse Gale snatched the clipboard from Weaver, glancing at it briefly before shoving it at the doctor.
“Matilda Weaver, four and a half, presented with symptoms three days ago, rapid progression and deterioration.” She glanced at Weaver. “Go with Dr Milliner.”
Weaver nodded his thanks, following the doctor from the room and down another corridor. The world had taken on a dreamlike quality, everything around the edges of his vision blurred and indistinct, his focus on Tilly in his arms, and the hurrying figure of Dr Milliner ahead. By the time he had gotten Tilly to the ward and she was taken from him, he felt as though he was outside his own body, floating above and looking down at the helpless man whose daughter was reaching for him from the arms of strangers, crying. A curtain was swiftly pulled around the bed. 
“You can see her in two hours,” said Dr Milliner. “Make sure you wash your hands thoroughly. Soap and water in the restrooms.”
He waited only for Weaver’s dazed nod before turning his back, and the doors swung shut, cutting off the view.
Weaver stumbled down the corridor, finding the nearest restroom to wash his hands, the heat of the water and the rhythmic motion of it somehow soothing. There was a pile of paper towels there, and he dried off, glancing at himself in the mirror. His eyes were dark and heavy, black shadows beneath, his face drawn and his cheeks and chin coated in three-day stubble. He shook his head, reaching for the door. If he wasn’t allowed back for two hours, perhaps he could get some sleep. It was hard to care for a sick child alone.
He glanced up at the signs in the corridor, directions to different wards. Finding the one he sought, he trudged down the corridor, ignoring those that passed him. He recognised the corridor that he stepped into, with its dark blue tiles scattered seemingly at random amongst pale grey. The isolation ward. Counting the doors in his head, he stopped outside number four and glanced through the square of glass to the room beyond.
Lacey’s eyes were closed, dark curls spread out on the pillow around her, limp and dull after days in the hospital. She had fallen ill two weeks ago, and had deteriorated so rapidly that Weaver had been desperately afraid that he would lose her. She was now off the ventilator, and was breathing normally, but Weaver had been unable to relax once Tilly had also fallen ill. His body was tight with a low key, but ever-present terror at the thought of one of those he loved the most slipping away. Lacey’s belly curved upwards, covered by the pale green hospital blanket, their second child due in less than a month. He wondered what kind of world it would be born into.
Weaver pushed open the door, slipping into the room and going to sit by the bed. Chances were he would be asked to leave if a doctor came in, but perhaps he would be able to pass at least a little of the two hours he would have to wait to see Tilly. Sitting down was a relief, his body crying out for rest, and he hesitated a little before reaching out to take Lacey’s hand. Her fingers were cool. He remembered when they had been scalding hot, her whole body burning up with a raging fever. Just as Tilly’s was now.
Lacey inhaled, eyes fluttering, and he felt himself smile as she turned her head a little, recognition showing in her eyes. Her cheeks were a little sunken, her weight having dropped. Worry flared to life in him again, but he kept the smile frozen in place.
“Hey,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“Hey sweetheart,” he said gently.
“What day is it?”
“Tuesday.”
“Oh.” She looked puzzled, as though she was trying to remember the days she had missed as she fought the virus. “Is it visiting time?”
“Not yet. I probably shouldn’t be here.”
Lacey smiled a little, squeezing his hand.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“Exhausted,” she said. “Hard to stay awake. But getting better, I think. How’s Tilly?”
He hesitated, debating whether to tell her their daughter was seriously ill. His lower lip wobbled, his eyes stinging with tears, and he squeezed her hand. A white lie, that’s all. A white lie to ease her mind.
“She’s fine,” he lied. “She’s gonna be just fine, and so are you. We’ll take you home soon, and we’ll be together. All of us.”
“Yeah.” Lacey closed her eyes again, hand slipping from his. “Together.”
55 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Text
Desperation - chapter 8
Tumblr media
45: “I won’t leave you, I promise”
Prompt list is here
[AO3]
x
The sound of coughing woke Belle.
At first she was disorientated, surrounded by unfamiliar shapes, the light coming from the wrong angle and the room smelling of orange oil and raw wool. She struggled with the blankets over her, fingers catching in crocheted patterns as she sat up, and then she remembered where she was. The Gold house, curled up on the couch. Where she would be for the next three weeks while the town was in lockdown.
The coughing came again, followed by a dull thump, and Belle scrabbled at her makeshift bed, untangling her legs and almost falling to the floor in her haste. She headed for the stairs, taking two at a time, and almost collided with Gold as he loomed out of the darkness. He started, stepping back on one foot, his shoulder pressed against the wall and his cane grasped tightly in the other hand. Belle took a step back too, keeping her distance.
“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously. “I thought I heard someone fall.”
“Yeah, that was me.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No no, it’s fine, it’s just - I was worried.” She stepped aside to let him past. “Please, get back into bed.”
Gold nodded wearily, shuffling along the corridor to his bedroom, and Belle chewed her lip as he started coughing again. He reached for the door with a hand that shook, pushing it open and almost falling into his bed. She edged closer, peering through the doorway, and he was lying on top of the bed with his head thrown back, his thin chest rising and falling too rapidly. She glanced at his water jug, and it was almost empty, the glass beside it lying on its side.
“I’ll get you more water,” she said, and snatched up the jug.
When she returned, he had managed to pull the blankets over himself and was shivering. Belle fetched the thermometer, sticking it in his mouth as she filled his water glass. The reading made her heart clench. 
“I don’t like this,” she said. “You’re one-oh-four, you need to take something.”
“Can’t.”
“You can,” she said firmly. “I’m surprised you’re not hallucinating.”
“Oh, I’ve seen plenty of terrible things, let me tell you,” he whispered.
“That’s it.” She put her hands on her hips. “You’re taking those pills. I’ll get some more if I have to personally bribe the Mayor, but you’re taking them, got it?”
“God, you’re tenacious!” he said wearily. 
“You won’t be able to care for Bae if you end up in the ICU,” she warned, and he sighed.
“Fine. You’re right, of course. Give me the pills.”
He coughed again, the movement seeming to propel him upwards into a sitting position before collapsing back with a low moan, and Belle hurried to find the tablets, bringing him two and watching like a hawk as he drank them down with some water. His hair was hanging in his face, strands of it sticking to his cheeks, and she resisted the urge to brush it back.
“Try to drink some more,” she said. “You’ll dehydrate.”
Gold drank another glass of water, and she poured more for him, stepping back from the bed as he settled back in the pillows with a sigh. His breathing was rapid and shallow, and she felt a pang of fear at the thought that his condition might worsen, that it might become pneumonia. Lockdown didn’t include emergency services; if he got really bad, she could always call an ambulance.
“Do you have health insurance?” she asked.
“Yes - well, sort of.” He sounded a little breathless. “I can’t really afford to get too sick, but I’m sure this is as bad as it’ll get. I’ll be alright, I swear it.”
“What if you’re not?”
“I will be. Have to be.”
Belle sighed. Stubborn. Maybe stubborn enough to beat this thing. 
“Alright,” she said. “But if you get worse and we have to get you to hospital, I'm getting you there somehow."
“Thank you, Belle,” he whispered. “I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.”
He began coughing again, sitting up and covering his face with the blankets, and Belle winced at the hollow sound he made.
“You don’t sound so good,” she said. “Is your throat sore?”
Gold nodded, wincing.
“Can I get you some honey and lemon?” she asked anxiously, and he nodded again, eyeing her over the top of the blankets as the coughing subsided.
“Please.”
She went out, pausing outside Bae’s door to listen. There was no sound of coughing from within, so she hoped that he, at least, was getting some decent sleep. The house was dark, the floor creaking beneath her feet, and she struggled to find a light switch, fingers scrabbling at the wall. It was cold, and she shivered, wishing she had thought to put something on over her PJs. 
After putting the kettle on to boil, she went back into the lounge to pull on her slippers and wrap the crocheted blanket around herself like a heavy shawl, the edge dragging on the floor behind her as she made her way back to the kitchen. The sound of coughing came from above, and she looked up with a frown. I hope he’s gonna be okay. How will Bae cope with his father so sick? If he does have to go to hospital, what will happen? I know he said Granny helps, but she has the inn and the diner to run. Well, I’ll just have to help out as much as I can. The library won’t be opening any time soon, I shouldn’t think.
She decided that she would make herself a drink, too, and found some chamomile tea in the cupboard. The coughing sound started up again, and she shook her head, cutting some lemon slices and putting them in a cup with some honey. This won’t cure him, but at least it’ll give him some energy and vitamins. I need to call the Mayor’s office and ask about medicine. Is the Mayor’s office even going to be open? How is this lockdown being coordinated if no one’s supposed to leave their house? What if no one comes with groceries after all, and we’re on our own? 
Belle paused, recognising a trickle of fear running through her, and told herself firmly that panic wouldn’t help anyone, least of all the sick man upstairs. She poured hot water into the cups, stirring his drink to dissolve the honey, and carried the cups up the stairs.
Gold appeared to have stopped coughing, and was sitting up against his pillows when she entered. 
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“A little more human,” he said, flicking back his hair. “The pills must be working, so thank you for making me take them.”
“I’ll be doing that again tomorrow,” she said briskly, and there was a soft chuckle from him.
He nodded his thanks as she put the drink on his nightstand, and she sat down in the chair in the corner, curling her feet under her and wrapping the blanket around her legs. He smiled slightly.
“I see you’re making use of my blanket.”
“I am.” She tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. “Did - did you make this?”
Another smile.
“I did. Years ago. It’s travelled all over the north-east with us.”
“I saw your loom, and - and a spinning wheel,” said Belle. “Do you actually spin?”
“I do indeed actually spin,” he said. “And weave. Hadn’t done it in years, not since before my ex-wife and I got together, and then not until Bae and I moved to Storybrooke and we had the space. Relatively speaking.”
“I never met anyone who had a spinning wheel,” she said. “I thought it would be easier to just buy yarn.”
“Oh, it is,” he agreed. “But there’s a satisfaction that comes from making your own, and it gets me through the winter nights. Helps me relax, helps me think. Something to do other than watch the television. Bae likes to help with the dying process.”
“Where do you get the wool?” she asked, and he took a sip of his drink. 
“The Nolans have a sheep farm just outside town,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder. “I occasionally trade pickles and jam for wool.”
Belle smiled delightedly. Small town bartering, sharing resources, people helping each other out in times of need... I love this place. I was right to come here. 
“Do you sell the yarn?” she asked, and he pulled a face.
“Not really. I occasionally give a skein or two to Granny, but I tend to use it all for my own purposes.”
“And the loom?” she said. “I can see there’s something taking shape on there.”
Gold smiled.
“I’m making a shawl. Any money I make from work tends to go on essentials, so if I want to give gifts, I usually have to make them.”
“So who’s the lucky recipient?” she asked, and his smile grew.
“Don’t know yet, but I like to be prepared.”
He coughed, covering his mouth with his hand, and Belle shook her head.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be making you talk.”
“No, it’s okay.” His voice was hoarser than before, and he took another sip of the honey and lemon. “It’s nice to talk. Bae and I don’t have a lot of company.”
“You said his mother left when he was four,” she said, remembering their earlier conversation. “Doesn’t she see him at all?”
Gold shook his head, and Belle buried her face in her cup to hide her surprise. What sort of mother doesn’t want to see her own son?
“She didn’t want children,” he added. “Talked about getting Bae adopted as soon as he was born, but there was no way I could agree to that.”
“Of course you couldn’t.” 
Gold took a drink, letting his head roll back against the pillows and turning the cup between his hands, a seemingly nervous gesture.
“She tried, in her own way,” he said quietly. “Caring for a child wasn’t part of her life plan, or so she told me. Wanted to be out having fun. Drinking with her friends, staying out until three a.m. Four years is longer than I expected her to stay, but she was never happy, not even before Bae was born. Can’t blame her for leaving.”
What about you? Were you ever happy?
“You sound like very - different - people,” she said, trying for a diplomatic tone. Gold’s expression told her that he wasn’t entirely convinced by it.
“You could say that,” he said. “It was for the best that she left. For everyone.”
“Well, it looks like you and Bae make a good team,” she said, and he smiled.
“He’s a good lad.”
His throat seemed to catch, and he hastily shoved the cup onto the nightstand just before he started coughing again. Belle sat up, chewing her lip anxiously, and his shoulders shook as he buried his face in the blankets. As the cough subsided he lay back with a gasp, his breathing rapid.
“You should get some rest,” he whispered. “No point in both of us being awake all night.”
“You sure you’ll be okay?” she asked, and he nodded briefly.
Belle got to her feet, tugging the blanket around herself and taking another sip of her tea. Gold was lying back with his hands folded lightly on his belly, his eyes closed and moonlight painting blue highlights on his nose and cheeks.
“Call if you need anything,” she said, and his mouth twitched.
“Thank you, Belle,” he whispered, and opened his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here. I'm glad you decided to stay, I couldn't have managed alone.”
She smiled, taking a step closer.
"Well, you won't have to," she said. "I won't leave you, I promise."
35 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Note
Sutheracey with Lacey as the Australian ambassador's daughter : “So… apparently we’re in lockdown.” and “Please tell me there’s something edible in there”
I did that second prompt in the first chapter, so here’s the first prompt in the second chapter. I could probably use a third…
Prompt list here
[AO3]
x
Sutherland marched into the function room as though he was about to issue a declaration of war. Perhaps it might come close to that, with some of these fuckers, he thought. Coming up with an approach that everyone agrees to will be a nightmare.
“Prime Minister?”
Sutherland turned with a smile at the familiar voice.
“Madam President,” he said. “I’d like to say I’m delighted to be here, but I think we both know we’d rather be meeting in less urgent circumstances.”
President Regina Mills smiled. She was an attractive woman, with dark hair and full lips, an accomplished, decisive politician, and someone he considered a valuable ally. And the closest thing to a friend that he had amongst the world leaders, he supposed.
“Pleased to have you with us in this, Robert,” she said, and he nodded.
“Well, it’s a pandemic,” he said. “We’re all in this together, whether we like it or not.”
“True enough,” she agreed. “I just hope we can all find common purpose.”
“Limiting the number of casualties seems a good place to start,” he remarked, and she nodded, an anxious look in her eyes. He decided to change the subject. 
“How’s your wife?” he asked. “I understand you just had a son.”
Regina beamed.
“Yes, Henry,” she said, a soft look in her eyes. “He’s perfect. Emma’s at the White House, obviously. I’m hoping to get this done quickly so I can get home to them.”
“I was planning on asking you to visit the UK this year,” he said. “I think perhaps it might be next year, at this rate.”
“So it seems,” she sighed. “We’d be delighted, once things go back to normal. Assuming they ever do. And this is Ms Deville, isn’t it?”
“Well remembered, Madam President,” said Carrie. “We met only once, I think.”
Regina smiled, nodding to her. No handshakes. Not now.
“Well, now that you’re here, at least I know I’ll have sense on my side in this thing,” she said to Sutherland. “Some of the leaders are already baulking at the restrictions and the spending we’re proposing.”
Sutherland clicked his tongue.
“Well, they’re gonna have to follow the science,” he said grimly. “I don’t have time for them to want to baby-step their way through this thing.”
“Agreed,” said the President, and glanced over his shoulder, a crease appearing between her eyes. “Ah. the CDC Director’s here. Would you excuse me?”
She walked off, and Sutherland turned to Carrie, raising an eyebrow.
“She looks worried,” murmured Carrie.
“That’s what I thought,” he said quietly. “I have a feeling whatever news the Director of the CDC is bringing her isn’t gonna be good.”
“Well, I have plenty of contacts here,” she said, glancing around the room. “Let me see what I can find out.”
She slipped away, and he walked over to one of the long tables holding glasses of wine and champagne, silver trays of bite-sized canapes alongside. He ignored the food and alcohol, opting for a glass of water instead. He had a feeling he would need to keep his wits about him.
“Well, if it isn’t Prime Minister Sutherland,” drawled a familiar voice, and Sutherland turned slowly.
The last time he had seen Lacey French, she had been wearing the previous night’s gleaming blue dress, with her hair tousled and her mouth full and red from his kisses. His bed had smelt of her perfume, and he remembered burying his face in the pillows after she had left, breathing her in. That scent was in the air now, making his heart thump a little harder and his cock twitch in memory of her touch. Lacey was wearing a very respectable blue dress and jacket, her hair tied up and simple gold rings in her ears. She looked him up and down very deliberately, fingers tapping the side of her wine glass and her lips curving upward as her eyes gleamed. 
“Miss French,” he said evenly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“I bet,” she said, and took a sip of her drink. “Long time no see, huh?”
“Four months, but who’s counting?”
“You, by the sound of it,” she said, grinning at him. “Miss me?”
Yes. Yes, I missed you, fool that I am.
“I’m glad to see you looking so well,” he said neutrally, and Lacey pouted.
“That’s very - British - of you,” she said. “And I believe Sergeants Knight and Nolan are standing guard behind you. Hi, boys. Remember me?”
Sutherland glanced behind him, and both security officers were staring straight ahead with expressionless faces, although Nolan looked as though he was trying very hard not to think about something. He turned back to Lacey.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” he asked. “I thought you were still at university.”
She wrinkled her nose, pursing her lips a little.
“I was. Dad managed to get me an internship for a few months, so I took a deferral of my studies until September. It’s all good experience, right?”
He inclined his head, taking a sip of water.
“I don’t suppose watching the progression of a deadly disease was quite what you had in mind when you took the post.”
“True,” she agreed, looking sober. “Maybe you can help to stop it, who knows?”
“I think we’ve gone beyond containment,” he said quietly. “Mitigating our losses may be the best we can hope for.”
Lacey’s eyes widened, and for a moment he saw fear in them. He wished he hadn’t said anything. The thought came to him that she could catch the virus herself. The thought of her sick and suffering, far from home with no family or friends around her, made his hand tighten on the glass, and he took another drink to wash away the sudden burst of fear.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the visiting dignitaries start to flow towards the large briefing room that had been set aside for their meeting.
“It seems we’re being summoned,” he said. “Make sure you practice your social distancing, Miss French.”
She gave him a wobbly smile, the spark of mischief back in her eyes.
“Yeah, you too,” she said. “Maybe I’ll bump into you later. Figuratively speaking, of course.”
x
It was hours later that Sutherland made his way back to his suite. He took off his suit jacket and tie as soon as he was inside, rolling up his shirt sleeves, washing his hands thoroughly in the bathroom, and pouring himself a drink. It had been a long day; there had been presentations by medical experts and pharmaceutical firms, followed by heated discussions between heads of state, and he felt as though his brain wanted to shut down. President Mills had called a halt to the whole thing at eight-fifteen after taking an urgent phone call. Her face, when she returned to the briefing room, had been grim. There had been a spike in cases, at the upper end of the estimates given by the experts, and she had taken the decision to lock down the country for an initial period of three weeks. Which meant that everyone at the conference was stuck there too.
There had initially been uproar in the briefing room, but President Mills assured them all that they would only be kept in the hotel as long as it took for them all to be tested to ensure they were clear of the virus. Those who were clear would be able to leave on their respective planes. Sutherland had remarked that since they had planned to be there for three days anyway, it probably wouldn’t take much longer to get through the tests, so they might as well get on with the business of dealing with the global response. His statement had been met with surly resentment, and eventual agreement, and he had been reminded of the fact that dealing with world leaders and their respective egos was like trying to herd cats.
He took a sip of the whisky in his glass, walking past his open laptop on the table and flipping it closed. Work could wait until he’d had a decent night’s sleep. If that was even possible in the circumstances. God alone knew what would be facing them in the morning. He paced slowly back and forth, statistics and projections running through his head, a seemingly unending list of potential calamities waiting to crash over the world. Some of them would happen, no matter what decisions were made in the next few days. No matter what he decided, people would die, and lives would be ruined. The thought was exhausting.
The sound of Sergeant Nolan’s voice outside his rooms made him look around, frowning slightly, and Sergeant Knight cleared his throat, calm and unruffled in his dark suit.
“I’ll check it out, sir,” he said, and headed for the door.
Sutherland sipped at his whisky again, a suspicion starting to form in his mind about who his late-night visitor might be.
“Hey, it’s Lance, isn’t it?” Lacey’s voice floated into the room through the open door. “D’you mind if I call you Lance? Can your boss come out to play?”
“Mr Sutherland is a little busy, Miss French,” said Sergeant Knight.
“Huh. I bet he’s drinking whisky and pacing the room.”
Sutherland sighed, setting down his glass and marching to the door, nodding at the officers to stand aside. Lacey smirked at him, arms folded and eyes sparkling.
“So…,” she said. “Apparently we’re in lockdown. Care for some company?”
“Look, you can’t come in here!” he snapped. “Haven’t you heard of social fucking distancing?”
Lacey rolled her eyes.
“Duh. I watch the news.”
“So go back to your own room,” he said. “For all you know I could have the virus.”
“Wouldn’t matter if you did,” she said. “I’ve already had it.”
Sutherland blinked.
“What?”
“Last month,” she added. “I was one of the lucky ones. Pretty mild symptoms. Not like some of the poor buggers suffering out there.”
“Oh.” Sutherland could feel himself wavering. “You’ve had it?”
“Uh-huh.” She tilted her head, eyeing him. “So - can I come in?”
47 notes · View notes
emospritelet · 4 years
Note
Since the KOL!babies are married when can they expect their own baby? Maybe Gold thinks Belle got the virus again when he hears she's at the hospital. - 41. “What did the doctor say?”
Tumblr media
Prompt list here
Follow-up to Late Shift in the Kiss of Life verse
[AO3]
x
Seven a.m.
Stirling Gold stared into his coffee, his body feeling heavy and slow, weariness weighing down on him. The kitchen tiles were cold beneath his bare feet, and he shifted his toes a little, pressing them down hard before pulling them off.  Belle was cooking eggs, humming to herself as she did so, and he could smell the pleasant aroma of hot toast. He was almost too tired to feel hungry, but he knew he needed to eat. Several days of working twelve to fifteen hour shifts took their toll. He took a sip of his coffee, relishing the bitterness as it spread across his tongue. Seven hours until he had to be at the hospital again. Seven hours to rest, recuperate, and spend some quality time with his wife. His wife. He wasn’t sure he would ever get over the wonderful feeling that went through him every time he realised that they were married.
With the library closed until further notice and him working seven days a week to cope with the influx of patients, Belle was alone for much of the day. Or the night, depending on how his shift pattern fell. It wasn’t how he had expected the first year of their marriage to be, but there again he hadn’t expected a deadly disease to sweep across the nation. There was the faintest glimmer of hope that they might be over the worst of it; the number of new cases each day had stopped rising a few days ago, and Gold was keeping everything crossed that the falling numbers would continue. They had already had their hopes dashed more than once.
Belle stopped humming, the pan clattering on the stove as she dished up, and Gold took another sip of his coffee, setting down his cup and leaning back in his chair. She set a plate of buttered toast and scrambled eggs in front of him, bending to kiss his cheek before sliding into the seat adjacent to him with her own plate. She grinned at him, blue eyes shining, and he couldn’t help smiling back. She had been clear of the virus for a week, and was back to her old self.
“You look tired,” she said. “Didn’t you sleep?”
“I did,” he admitted. “But not enough.”
“Go back to bed,” she suggested, and her eyes gleamed. “Maybe I could join you.”
“I think we both know that neither of us would get any rest at all in that scenario,” he said sternly, and she giggled, scooping up eggs with her fork.
“Okay, suit yourself,” she said. “At least I get you all to myself for the morning.”
He grinned at her, and turned to his breakfast, eating a forkful of eggs and cutting off a piece of buttered toast to follow them. Belle poured herself some tea, and there was a moment of silence while they ate.
“I thought we might take a walk today,” she said. “It would do you good to get some fresh air. I don’t think you’ve done anything but work and sleep these past three weeks.”
“Well, there was that hour on Sunday when neither one of us was asleep...” he said, and she smirked, reaching for her cup.
“Ah yes, I remember,” she said. “I don’t think that counts as exercise, though. At least not in the fresh air.”
“We could do it in the back garden, if you insist.”
Belle giggled.
“I think the cold weather might have something to say about that.”
“Fair point,” he said. “Very well, a walk it is. Not too far, though. You’ve been complaining of tiredness a lot recently, and I don’t want you coming down with this thing again, okay?”
Belle rolled her eyes.
“I keep telling you, I’m fine!”
“And your sudden passion for mid-afternoon naps is a coincidence, is it?” he remarked. “Listen to your doctor and get some rest.”
“Maybe the doctor should take his own advice,” she said dryly.
Gold grinned, and turned back to his breakfast. His appetite seemed to be improving, and he cleared his plate, gulping the rest of his coffee down. His phone buzzed from its place on the table, the noise insistent, and he felt his heart sink as he reached for it. Belle watched him anxiously as he swiped at the screen.
“Jefferson,” he said, and Belle’s face fell.
“Hey,” said Jefferson, sounding as tired as he felt. “Look, I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate…”
“You need me to come in early,” guessed Gold.
“I’m really sorry,” said Jefferson sincerely. “Whale almost collapsed on the ward, and he’s burning up - I sent him home.”
“He’s positive?” asked Gold, worried, and Jefferson sighed.
“No, it looks like just a regular cold, but he’s exhausted. He’ll probably be out for a few days at least. Which means we’re a doctor down. I can cover his patients as well as my own, but we’ll need you to handle the ones that aren’t virus-related. At least that means you don’t have to suit up in PPE to the extent I do.”
“I’ll be there by eight.”
“You’re a life-saver,” said Jefferson. “Which I guess isn’t hyperbole, huh?”
“See you soon.”
Gold hung up, putting his phone down on the table and sighing heavily. Belle was watching him, looking troubled.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I - I really wanted to spend some time with you.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said immediately, putting a hand over his. “Really it is. I married a doctor. Nine to five was never gonna happen, and I knew that. You go and do what you do best, okay?”
He smiled broadly, and leaned in to kiss her.
“I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
x
As always when he was working, Gold’s weariness had disappeared like smoke as soon as he stepped onto the ward in his scrubs. The hospital was never quiet, but in the midst of a pandemic it was hectic, and he had almost collided with a porter pushing a wheelchair. He did his round of the children’s ward first; there were thankfully very few children in there needing attention. He had half-expected Henry Swan-Mills to have come down with the virus; the boy was accident-prone and always in and out of hospital, but he had seen nothing of him since treating him for a broken collarbone three weeks ago. He suspected that the Mayor and Sheriff between them were pretty strict on enforcing the lockdown on their son.
Six hours into his shift he was beginning to flag, and went to the canteen for coffee and the lunch that Belle had put together for him while he was dressing. He smiled as he saw the little note she had placed on top of his sandwiches: I love you and I’m proud of you xxx. 
There had been a shift change, so when he got back out on the ward the personnel looked fresh-faced and ready to face the day. He was pleased to see them. Less pleasing was the fact that Zelena Mills was among them. 
He had thought that Zelena would have gotten over her weird obsession with him since he was now very happily married, but while she had certainly backed off a little, she still made inappropriate comments on a regular basis. He was able to ignore her for the most part, but with staffing levels dwindling by the day, it was likely that he was going to have to work with her more often. The virus had a lot to bloody answer for, in his opinion. 
She veered towards him as soon as he entered the room, and he took two steps back to maintain six feet between them. Zelena pouted, but there was a predatory gleam in her eyes which he had learned not to trust.
“Dr Gold,” she said, with a simper that made his teeth clench. “On your own today?”
“Dr Whale is ill,” he said dismissively, reaching for the nearest patient’s chart. “Dr Milliner is covering his patients as well as his own, and I’m covering everyone who isn’t infected with the virus. I’d appreciate any help you can give in that regard. Maintaining the necessary social distancing at all times, of course.”
Zelena��s pout grew sulky.
“It’s hard to flirt when we can’t go within six feet of each other,” she said, and Gold wanted to roll his eyes.
“A good thing we’re here to work, then,” he remarked, making a note on the patient’s chart. “Are you short of tasks to occupy yourself with? I’ll have a word with Nurse South, if so.”
Zelena scoffed.
“Hardly,” she said. “Dorothy left us in the lurch. Didn’t show up to her shift. Typical.”
Gold looked up.
“Dorothy didn’t show?” he said. “That’s not like her. Did anyone call her?”
“I did.” Glinda South had walked into the room, and was eyeing Zelena sternly. “Nurse Mills, you’re here to do your job, not distract Dr Gold. Go and change the beds in Arendelle Ward; we’re changing it from prenatal care to an overflow ward to deal with virus patients.”
Zelena huffed, stomping off, and Gold gave Glinda a grateful look.
“Is Dorothy okay?” he asked, and she sighed.
“Well, she has the virus,” she said gloomily. “She doesn’t feel too bad, so at least that’s something, but it means she’s self-isolating. We’re short on staff as it is.”
“I should call her,” he said. “I know how awful this thing can be. How are we for shift cover?”
“It’s tight,” she admitted. “We should just about be okay, though.”
“Good.”
Gold moved on to the next patient, checking the chart and nodding to himself. Some improvement. Good. 
He continued on his rounds, working his way through the wards, and managed almost an hour before Zelena caught up with him again. 
“Ah, Dr Gold,” she said, walking towards him with her hips swaying. “I have to say I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Yes, seeing the doctor in the hospital must indeed have been a shock to the senses,” he remarked, picking up a patient’s chart and scanning it. “Next you’ll be telling me you saw patients being treated.”
“Well, I don’t know about being treated,” she said airily. “But I did see Belle French.”
Calling Belle by her old name was a habit of hers, and usually it was only a minor annoyance, but Gold wasn’t in the mood. He opened his mouth to snap at her that Belle’s name was now Gold and that she was his wife, when something she had said made prickles of anxiety run over his skin.
“You saw Belle?” he said. “Here?”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes glinting wickedly. “She went rushing past me, said she needed to see a doctor.”
Gold licked his lips.
“She was probably looking for me.”
“Didn’t look that way to me,” she said, looking at her fingernails. “Oh, is she sick? How tragic that would be...”
Gold tossed the chart aside and stormed out as fast as he could. She was making up beds in Arendelle Ward. That’s the ward we’re using as overflow for the virus patients. Oh God, please don’t let her be sick again! I should have fucking noticed when she said she was feeling tired all the time, I should have known!
He burst through the double doors, almost sending a nurse flying and throwing an apology over his shoulder. His leg was hurting, the pain of being on it for hours and walking too fast, but he didn’t care. He turned the corner at speed and almost collided with Belle, her eyes widening as she put out an arm to stop him.
“Stirling!” she said. “Slow down! Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” he gasped. “What - what are you doing here? Are you sick?”
“I’m fine,” she said assuredly. “Everything’s fine.”
“But - Zelena said you’d been rushed in, that you were seeing a doctor…” 
He flailed, trying to gather his thoughts into something coherent. Belle put a hand on his arm, smiling up at him, and at once her touch seemed to calm him, to ground him.
“Stirling,” she said gently. “Yes, I did need to see a doctor, but I’m fine, really. And you should learn not to take any notice of Zelena. She always pushes your buttons when you’re stressed.”
“Right.” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little better. “Right. So you’re not sick?”
“I’m not sick,” she confirmed, and Gold felt anxiety drain out of him, leaving only relief and weariness in its wake.
“Good,” he said absently. “That’s good. What did the doctor say?”
Belle’s smile grew, and he wondered why he had only just noticed how radiant she looked. As though she was filled with light, with joy. With life.
“I’m pregnant,” she said. “We’re going to have a baby.”
Gold felt as though he’d been punched in the chest. He staggered back, hand gripping the handle of his cane to steady himself. She was beaming at him, and he could feel tears prick his eyes as his heart swelled with love for her. Belle stepped forward, hands sliding around his waist, and he reached up to cup her cheek, feeling his heart thumping hard in his chest.
“A baby?” he whispered. “We’re having a baby?”
“We are,” she said. “You’re going to be a father. How does that sound?”
Gold bent his head to kiss her, eager for the taste of her lips and the softness of her mouth. She melted into him with a tiny moan, and he pulled back gently, resting his forehead against hers as he breathed her in.
“It sounds wonderful,” he whispered. “It sounds perfect.”
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