#Duncan baby I am once again asking you to just wake up very sick one day so I don’t ever have to question if I made the right choice

[l3irdl3rain]

Little baby man, what am I going to do with you?

[taehyungsgrowl]

Illicit Affairs IV - Duncan Shepherd x Fem!Reader

{gif by @ansonmount}

hey babies! it has been a while! but i have finally gotten enough brain cells to write part four of illicit affairs!

big thank you to @desertsunflower00 for pointing me in the direction i wanted the story to go to after being stuck ily amiga!

also.... this was not the ending i thought i was gonna give when i started writing it but my heart led me to this so

i hope you all enjoy!!! and thank you so much for being so patient!

I've had so so much fun and heartache writing for this story.

please let me know what you think!!!

the first 3 parts are linked here!

Illicit Affairs Part I

Illicit Affairs Part II

Illicit Affairs Part III

word count: 5.9 k

as always! not proofread! italics are for memories!

(also really hope the italics copied correctly from google docs!)

Emma’s head was pounding. With each sob she felt the pain strike her heart.

Duncan was her world. She couldn’t imagine… couldn’t even think of what her life would be like without him. He was the one who lit up even her darkest days - always being that rock that held her together.

All the years they’d been together, she never had reason to think Duncan didn’t feel the same way. She thought he was enough for him…

A message from her friend pinged her phone, making her acknowledge the time.

God, she wanted to scream again. She didn’t know whether to believe if he was really at his office.

Lost. Alone. She didn’t know what to do. The one person she knew could make her feel loved was now the person causing her the most pain.

Emma tried to get herself off the floor, but what was the point. She didn't see a rhyme or reason to it when she didn’t know what to do.

She didn’t know where he was.

She didn’t know what she’d say to him if he was.

And she felt like she had nowhere to go.

So she laid on her closet floor, clutching the nearest shirt of his she could reach and stained his shirt with her tears. Her tears would soon dry and disappear from the fabric, but the lip print on his collar would be painful to remove both from his shirt and her mind.

--

While Duncan waited for Y/N to finish in the bathroom, he checked his phone and saw a message that had come in from Emma. Guilt clouded every emotion he had. It overtook the anxiety he felt of the what ifs with Y/N. It encompassed him completely.

Missing you x, she sent with a picture of their dog.

He’d been gone for longer than he anticipated and knew she must be getting worried. He took a deep breath, trying to ease himself.

He was doing this for her.

--

Y/N’s nerves bubbled up in her stomach, but she couldn’t stall much longer.

“Are you okay?” Duncan asked right at the door.

She knew looking at the results would then seal her fate with Duncan - one way or another.

“Yup! Just a minute.” she got up and held on to the edge of the sink before splashing her face with cold water. “You can do this,” she whispered to herself.

Y/N picked up the test and held her breath.

Not pregnant.

As relief washed over her she couldn’t deny the tiny part of her that hoped she was -- as selfish as it was, she didn’t think Duncan wouldn’t leave her if she was.

Y/N walked out of the bathroom, negative test in hand, to a Duncan who nervously paced her living room.

“It’s fine, Duncan. I’m not pregnant.” She pretended not to care when she saw his shoulders finally relax since he’d heard of the possibility of it being true.

He clapped his hands together nervously. Duncan hadn’t realized how sweaty his palms were in the short time waiting. “Okay,” he nodded. “Okay - I… How are you feel-”

“Stop.” she interrupted him. “We don’t have to do this.” Although normally seeing Duncan in her apartment always filled her with a sense of warmth - it was the illusion of having a life with him - when she saw him now, he seemed out of place. He didn’t belong there no matter how much she wanted to force that piece there.

He frowned, studying her expressions, “I came because last time we spoke -”

Y/N interrupted him again, “I know why you’re here. You think you can clear your conscious by telling me how fucking special I am,” she rolled her eyes. “We don’t need to do all that.” If she had any doubts about the way he felt before - they were made clear now.

And while she felt she had a million things left unsaid to him, she didn’t feel like she owed him that. “You’re good. We’re good. I just want to shower and move on. So I’d appreciate it if you quit calling and showing up.”

Just let me go.... She wanted to scream.

--

Duncan was driving back home from Y/N’s apartment and while he had so many thoughts racing in his head - for the first time in a long time, he felt lighter. As difficult as it’s been to part ways with Y/N, he knew that it was the right decision. He’d finally have a chance to do things right by Emma.

“I’m home, baby!” Duncan called out, hanging his keys by the door. The house felt cold and a shiver ran down his spine.

He walked into their bedroom looking for his wife and saw the door of their walk-in closet jarred open. When he opened the door he saw Emma curled into the fetal position asleep, holding his shirt with Captain snuggled up on her side.

She had tired herself out from crying and fell asleep waiting for his return.

Duncan’s heart rate spiked, thinking she’d been hurt or something happened. “Emma!” he fell to his knees, placing the back of his hand on her forehead, feeling for a temperature. “Baby, wake up,” he cooed, until he saw her eyes flutter open.

And for the fraction of a second between unconsciousness and consciousness, she got lost in the blue of his eyes all over again. For that fraction of a second it was like waking up to him that very first night they spent together.

“Hold still,” Duncan laughed, his fingers delicately brushed over Emma’s face until he got the eyelash that was in danger of going into her eye. “There,” he showed her the lash stuck to his thumb.

“Thank you,” she licked her lips, her eyes glancing down at Duncan’s pink lips.

“Wait,” he grabbed her wrist with his other hand, “Press your thumb to mine - and whoever the lash sticks to gets to make a wish,” he explained the silly ritual. It was something one of his nannies had taught him and it always stuck with him. He loved how he could be like this with Emma… soft… vulnerable. He’s sure very little people actually knew this side of him.

Sure, they’d only been dating for a little bit now, but Duncan was more than sure that she was the love of his life.

“What?” she laughed, her voice like music to his ears.

“Trust me,” he smiled when she pressed her thumb to his. “Okay, ready? One… two… three.” They each pulled their digits away from each other and took a look. The lash was gone from Duncan’s thumb and Emma was smiling like a child with it pressed on her skin.

“What do I do now?” she giggled.

“Make a wish and then drop the eyelash into your shirt.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes trying to keep a very serious face, but Duncan could see the smile tugging on her lips. “Done.” she dropped the lash into her shirt.

“Well… what was the wish?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you that!”

“I never said that was a rule!!” he argued back.

“That's a basic wish rule,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs criss crossed on his couch. “You can’t say what you wished for!”

“I’m taking the wish back if you won’t tell me,” Duncan tried to look stern, but his lopsided smile gave it away. He adjusted on the couch and pushed her down until he was hovering over her. His fingers started to tickle her sides, making the bottom of her shirt ride up.

She was in a fit of laughter begging him to stop. She found herself grabbing the back of his head and tugging his hair down to have his face just inches away from her own. Duncan’s fingers stopped tickling her, but his hand snuck inside her shirt, feeling her softness.

Everything froze for a moment when she stared into his eyes that way. He looked at her like she’d hung the moon and the stars. She never wanted to stop looking into the safety of his eyes.

-

She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting and focusing back on Duncan’s. After that split second had passed, she sat up and shoved his chest, trying to make him give her space.

Duncan furrowed his brows, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Emma backed away from him, eyes prickling with tears again. She picked up his stained shirt - what once was her favorite, got closer to him and shoved it into his chest, “F-fucking asshole!” she finally let herself sob again. She felt so weak when her forehead fell against his chest and her balled up fists rested against him.

Entirely confused, Duncan wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to get her to look at him. He hadn’t gotten a chance to examine the shirt she handed him.

Emma felt herself melting into his hold, but stopped herself. She took his arms and removed them from her waist, taking a step back, “Don’t touch me.”

“No…” Duncan let out under his breath, seeing the lipstick mark, “No,” he said louder, “No, honey, I can explain.” He reached his hand out to touch her but she flinched at his approach.

His warm “honey” had a cold stare behind her tears. He couldn’t imagine what she could be feeling… She was never supposed to find out.

A single tear rolled down his cheek. “I love you. No one else but you.” his voice cracked.

“Get out.” she sniffled, wanting so desperately to be strong.

“Let me explain!” he felt his knees wanting to give out and his head started to spin. This couldn’t be happening. He asked her to let him explain but he didn’t know if he even had a good reason to give her.

For a moment, he saw her face soften. A result of seeing the sick look on his face - she still felt the urge to hold him, to kiss him.

He took the chance at her moment of softness and continued, “It’ll never happen again, I promise.”

“Maybe we should back up for a minute if you really want to explain.” she wiped her cheeks, “Let’s start with an easy one, no? What’s on that shirt, Dunc?”

“Baby…” it felt like a kick to the gut.

“I’ll help you out,” she continued, “Who’s lipstick is on your shirt?”

“It was a stupid mistake, Emma. I promise.” he pleaded.

“No, Dunc. A mistake is when I accidentally add too much salt to a recipe or leave my coffee mug on top of my car before I pull out of the driveway.” her voice lowers again, “I trusted you.”

“How long?” she took a deep breath. “And please don’t bother lying.”

“Six months.” he hung his head in shame.

No. No. No.

Emma thought she wanted to know the truth but… hearing it from his voice that this had been going on far longer than she imagined broke her heart all over again.

“Six months,” she repeated. “You’ve been fucking some whores for six months. God I’m so fucking stupid,” she groaned. She raised her hand to the pole that held all of Duncan’s clothes in the closet and slid them off, throwing them to the ground in frustration.

“It was never more than one.” he tried to defend himself.

“Because that makes it so much better!!!” she laughed humorlessly. “Get out! Get out!” she tossed his clothes at him until he backed out of the closet.

Even if it broke her again, she wanted to know the reason why. But it couldn’t be today. She could barely stand to look at him and with everything that came out his mouth - just ending up cutting her more and more.

“I love you,” Duncan dropped to his knees and crawled to her until he could wrap his arms around her legs. “If we can both calm down and talk-”

“I don’t need to calm down,” she cried.

In all his years spent with Emma - he’d never seen her so upset and it killed him to know he was the reason for it. Maybe it was his selfishness taking over again, but he couldn’t lose her - couldn’t let her go.

They’d almost been inseparable from the moment they met. Attached at the hip. Always in sync.

-

Duncan was in his home office, typing away on his laptop. His glasses were low on his face and he wore a white t-shirt and his plaid pajama pants.

Emma had been trying to get him to bed for the past hour, but he was really busy with the project he’d been working on.

She came back into his office ready for bed. She wore one of his old college sweatshirts and rubbed her eyes. “Almost done?” she yawned.

“Almost,” Duncan didn’t look up from his screen.

Emma lingered by the door, not wanting to go to bed without Duncan by her side. Duncan felt her at the door and looked up, pushing his glasses back. He knew how much she loved sleeping in his old sweatshirt at this point he considered it hers.

“C’mere,” he rolled back his chair, “You can sit in my lap until I’m done working.” he smiled, patting his thigh.

She hurried to his desk and curled up on his lap. She loved being close to him. Just feeling his breathing, taking in his scent, feeling his hands absently wander up and down her body.

Her legs hung off the side of his chair and her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, but Duncan kept her steady with his arm around her waist.

And he could stay like that for hours - feeling her close as he finishes reading over reports for his app. She was like a life size stress reliever for him. Just by having her touching him, pressing little kisses along his jaw… melted away his stress.

-

When she looked down at Duncan on his knees for her, she still saw the man she loved. She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel that way about someone again.

“Baby, honey,” he cried, “I’ll never stop making it up to you just please,” his forehead pressed into her thigh, “Don’t leave me.”

“I-if you won’t leave - I will,” she stepped out of his grasp. “I can’t think straight right now. I… I’m so hurt,” her voice broke with the last word.

“I’m going to my moms house…” she spoke out loud, guiding herself through the plan. “I can’t be here. I can’t even look at you.”

Duncan begged her to stay. He told her if anyone should be forced to leave the home it should be him - he was the one who screwed up. But she couldn’t stand being in the place that has brought them so many happy memories.

That night, Emma stayed in her childhood room. Although she had outgrown it over the years, the whole situation made her feel small. She curled up under her yellow bed sheets and stared at her phone each time it lit up with another text from Duncan.

Duncan tossed and turned in his empty bed. In his sleep, his arms searched for his Emma, coming up empty every time.

--

“Em?” her mother woke her up gently, “It’s been five days of just sulking around and ignoring calls. You need to get up, sweetheart.”

Her mother softly pulled her covers down. “Maybe you can get dressed and we can go for a coffee,” concern clouded her voice.

Emma didn’t say anything - just stared at her ceiling. “Duncan came by why you were sleeping,” her mom continued. His name was the only word she’d responded to; she looked at her mom with tears in her eyes.

“I told him you weren’t available to talk…” She handed her daughter her glasses off the nightstand.

She put her glasses on her face and slowly sat up in the bed. Her mom was right - she’d been avoiding everyone; avoiding Duncan for too long now. She slowly nodded, feeling her body drag out of bed.

The hot water that almost burned her skin in the shower suddenly turned frigid. The warm embrace evaporating away. Her heart was growing tired of the things she loved leaving her reach.

After a day of blurred nothingness, her heart was finally pounding a million beats per second, staring at the door of her home. As familiar as it was, it didn’t feel like home anymore.

With a shaky hand, her fingertip pressed deeply into the doorbell.

12:46 am - Although Duncan should have been asleep he found himself the same way he had since Emma left; sad and alone.

He pulled on an old pair of sweats, his hair in messy curls with a few strands in his face - even his stubble had gotten a little scruffier.

“Emma,” his eyes twinkled in the moonlight. Seeing her again finally made him feel like he could breathe again. “You’re home,” he tried to reach for her, but saw the way her entire body tensed up at his advancement.

“Stop,” she shook her head, her heart couldn’t handle having to reject him. She was holding on by a thread. “We need to talk.”

--

Four months later:

Y/N smiled in the sleepy state between dreaming and being conscious as she felt strong arms pulling her closer. His large hands pressed on her stomach, slowly inching up her shirt. At the same time, she felt his lips softly pressing into her shoulder.

“Morning,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed.

“Morning, princess,” he rolled over and pinned her below him. She met his kind, unclouded gaze. Not a trace of guilt behind his eyes - he was solely happy to be hers.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “You want chocolate chip or blueberry pancakes today?” he nuzzled the tip of his nose with her, making her break a smile.

“Both?” she bit her lip.

“Oh my god,” he playfully rolled his eyes before kissing her, “You’re absolutely spoiled, darling.” He started getting out of bed, pulling his sweats that were discarded on the floor. Y/N stared in awe at the strong muscles of his bare back. She loved running her fingers over the smoothness of his skin, leaving invisible idle patterns or semi-permanent marks of her fingernails scratching down.

There was peace knowing she never had to share him. With him, she didn’t have to sacrifice bits of her happiness.

With one last kiss, he stepped out of the room to take a quick shower before starting breakfast. It’d become sort of a ritual for them; Sundays were for Y/N to sleep in and for him to make her breakfast. They’d later fold their laundry together and watch movies.

Her phone buzzed too loudly on the nightstand for her to ignore. “Hello?” she picked up the call, her eyes still closed.

“Y/N?” her heart came to a halt. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. Her name dripped from his lips like molasses; warm and sickeningly sweet.

“Y/N, it 's me, Duncan.”

After a brief pause, Y/N let out a deep breath. She was fine. When Duncan left her apartment almost five months ago, she didn’t know what it would be like the next time she saw him. They’d left so much unsaid, but it was better this way. She wanted to be done. And while there were nights she thought she’d never stop missing him, the soft ache in her heart started to fade.

She was relearning what it meant to love someone who could give her what she wanted; what she deserved. No longer did she feel shameful - kept like a dirty secret.

Late night meet ups in dark parking lots with Duncan turned into proudly holding hands with someone who wanted the world to see the way he felt about her.

Quick fucks that left her feeling empty as Duncan hurried to leave her apartment to go home to his wife turned into her boyfriend spending the night to make her breakfast in the morning.

Things were never as bad as she anticipated. There was a part of her that was proud of not feeling fazed by Duncan’s call.

“I…” Duncan continued when she didn’t speak, “I mi- I’m sorry,” she could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose as he stumbled over his words, “How are you?”

“I am doing really well, Duncan,” her tone was sincere without a trace of bitterness. If there was one thing Duncan did right, was give her his final piece of advice - when he told her she deserves someone who could make her happy.

“Emma… filed for divorce.” he coughed to cover up any anxiety in his voice.

“We need to talk,” Emma told him before stepping into the house. Duncan still replayed that night over and over in his head wishing and attempting to bargain with anyone that would listen to turn back time.

Duncan sat beside her at their small kitchen table; they always talked about getting a bigger one when they’re little family started to grow, but it was perfect for just the two of them. Countless mornings sipping coffee with the comfort of the other’s company were spent at their little table.

“I need you to know how much you hurt me, Duncan.” Duncan couldn’t recall the last time Emma had called him Duncan. He was her babe, her baby, her honey, her Dunc. A few nights ago, when she left - as angry as she was, through all the tears and screams she still called him Dunc. Hearing his full name fall from her lips with distaste made him realize things were changing.

The more Emma listened to Duncan recounting his inexcusable reasons the more upset she became. Silent tears strolled down her face as he explained over and over that he didn’t even have a real reason why because that meant there was nothing she could have done to keep it from happening.

“Do you love her?” Emma interrupted him. If there were any hope for them, Emma knew it would be in his answer.

“Baby - that’s over. I’ll never see her again,” and with the absence of a ‘no,’ Duncan sealed his fate.

She winced, internally accepting the end.

Duncan had a harder time really accepting it was over. A few weeks after that night, Duncan was served with paperwork for the divorce. He hated the word; it felt heavy on his tongue.

He didn’t want to make the process miserable for Emma; the least she deserved was to be able to leave him without so much legal jargon in the way, entangling an already large mess.

But lawyers do what they do best.

His attorney ‘friends’ squeezed pretty dime after pretty dime out of Duncan.

“She found out. About us,” Y/N imagined all of the awful things his life must have thought about her. “A couple months ago, really,” Duncan couldn’t stop talking.

“Why are you telling me this? And why are you telling me this now?” her boyfriend’s shower was still running and she was thankful to have the privacy for this conversation.

“She’s really left. I don’t know what to do. I miss her. I miss you,” he looked out at the skyline from his downtown condo; a place that could never feel like a home. A bachelor pad with a sad bachelor. Could a divorce candidate be considered a bachelor?

“I’m sorry,” she didn’t know what else to offer to that, “I did what you said,” she continued after a moment of silence. “I found someone who could give me what I needed. I’m happy, Duncan. I didn’t think I’d ever be happy like I am now after you - and I don’t mean this to rub it in, I just mean,” she searched for the right words, “I know it feels like you’ll never be happy again without that certain person, but there will be time when you will. I know you love her a lot. I can see that now and I could see it then. I’m sorry for the part I played in all this.”

They were both moving on without him. Not that he could blame them; he’d made them both sacrifice parts of themselves so he could be selfish.

“I’m sorry for calling,” Duncan grimaced. “I really hope he treats you well, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, “And Duncan,” she chewed on her bottom lip, “Take care, okay?”

“You too.”

--

One year later:

A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as she huffed, setting the last of the boxes down by the front door. An entire year had passed and Emma had clung on to the final memories of her marriage. Things were different now and as much as she still found herself yearning for what she once had, she knew this was how things needed to be.

“Think we’ve got most of it now,” he came around the corner with a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hand he kept from being put up.

“How are you feeling?” Duncan asked, pouring her a generous amount before handing her the glass.

“Nervous,” she laughed, “scared,” she admitted.

Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth in the way it always was when she had more to say. Duncan couldn’t help but smile until his eyes crinkled; as happy as he was for her, he couldn’t wrap his mind about her leaving.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head, “You’re gonna do great. I don’t know anyone smarter, more qualified, more perfect for the job,” he encouraged.

“Not just about that,” she admitted. She sat on the floor of her empty living room and Duncan joined her, filling his own glass. “Moving. Being so far - starting over,” she sighed and took a long sip of her wine.

“Dunc,” she shook her head, “We grew up in this house. We loved in this house. Fought and made up,” she laughed.

--

“What’re we doing?” she kissed him as he pushed her into the house, hands fumbling all over each other.

“Don’t think about it,” he groaned against her lips, pressing her against the wall and hiking her up. “Just.. don’t think,”

“Mm, not here,” she sighed, feeling his hand wander up her dress, caressing the inside of her thigh. “The bed.. Our bed..” her voice was shaky as his skilled fingers brushed over her panties. She missed this. Missed him.

With signed divorce papers forgotten, Duncan tossed her on the bed and climbed over her, never letting his lips leave her skin. Savoring every moment she let him have with her. He didn’t know if she’d regret it in the morning. If she would hate him more than she did before, but she was giving him this now and he wanted to take it in. He wanted to memorize her taste as if it would be the last time.

He kissed down the hills of her breasts and hiked her dress past her thighs, dipping his head down to kiss along her inner thighs. “Emma,” he breathed her name like it was his final breath.

Duncan hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, “Up.”

She raised her hips and he slid them off her legs in one quick movement. He wasted no time - he swiped his tongue along her wetness, immediately moaning at the feeling of having her on his tongue.

Two of his fingers plunged into her, slowly pumping in and out of her while his pouty lips wrapped around her clit. Those lips she loved. The same lips that formed into her favorite smile; the ones that kissed her like the most delicate flower in the world; the ones that held his tongue that massaged her just like that.

Like muscle memory taking over her, her fingers laced themselves in strands of honey brown hair - pulling with the way he was making her feel.

“Dunc!” she almost screamed, feeling his dexterous curl and brush against her g-spot.

“Gonna cum,” her legs wrapped around him, her thighs closing around his face.

Duncan didn’t stop. He kept going. Wet open-mouthed kisses on her pussy, letting a trail of saliva and cum drag from his lips. He peeked up to watch her with a wet mouth before licking them clean.

He tried to hold her still as she finished, not letting his lips leave her center. He cleaned up every bit of cum with his tongue before he sponged kisses along her twitching thighs as she came down from the high he’d given her.

Duncan climbed on top of her again, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. There was comfort in the scratchy tickles of his beard on her soft skin.

She held him, softly running her fingers through his hair until she was ready.

While she didn’t plan on thinking that night, there was a part of her that knew this would be the last time they’d ever be like this again. She shook the thought away. For selfish reasons, she didn’t want it to ruin the night.

“Fuck me,” like it’s the last time, she thought.

And he did.

Their teeth clashed together with desperate kisses as he buried himself inside of her. As close as they were - they wanted to be closer.

Duncan’s stomach tightened, feeling himself twitch inside her. Her walls clenched around him, milking his cock for his cum.

“Fuck,” she sighed against his lips. “Feels so good.”

“Missed this… missed you, baby,” he rut his hips against hers. He took her hands and pinned them above her head, staring into her eyes with a dazed out smile.

Duncan didn’t dare think about it the next morning. He wished it’d never come.

But it did… it always did.

-

By the time Duncan woke up from his Emma filled dreams, she was lying awake with nothing but the sheet covering her.

“Uh hey,” Duncan offered, trying to get a feel of the room. Maybe he was still in a blissed out state of mind, but he didn’t feel a sense of regret lingering between them.

“Hi,” she laughed, turning to face him. “About last night…” she tried to read his expressions.

“I missed that. In all honesty, I miss you.” Duncan couldn’t dare to move, afraid if he did he would wake up from a dream. “I don’t think… we need to stop being friends. You’ve always been my best friend.” Which was true. The months leading up to the divorce were miserable - for both of them. “I… don’t think we can continue doing this,” she gestured between their naked bodies. “I don’t want that - I can’t handle going back to how things were, but I miss my friend.”

Duncan would take having her in his life in any capacity she allowed.

Of course, what they had couldn’t be recreated. But they did their best to be good friends to each other. Emma was tired of feeling like a victim of betrayal. She wanted to move on and not feel heavy from that anymore.

Duncan would come over on occasion for dinner or they’d go for a walk. As much as he wanted more, he wouldn’t push her - he couldn’t.

-

And like a good friend, Duncan was helping her pack up her belongings from the house they called their home so she could move hours away from him. The small sliver of time he’d see her was now being taken away, but he couldn’t keep her from going.

“I’m scared of being away from you,” she looked over at those familiar eyes that would always be home to her. “You’ve been the one constant in my life - good or bad - and you’ll be so far,” her eyes started to wet with tears.

Duncan took her hands in his, “I won’t ask you to stay. As much as I want you to stay with every fiber of my being - I can’t ask that of you. What I can ask is this,” he paused and looked into her eyes, “do you want to go?”

“Yes,” she answered, keeping his stare.

He smiled and hoped it met his eyes, “Em, I’ll always be here. Near or far. I’ll always love you. You know that.” And he meant the words in ways she didn’t know.

“I know,” she whispered, “I love you too.” Duncan wanted her to mean it in the way he did, but he knew better.

“Change is good, right?”

“Change is scary - but good,” Duncan tried to affirm her.

As much as everything around them could change, one thing would remain true; Emma was the love of his life. There would always be a part of him that wished he didn’t mess up the best thing that happened to him.

But there was a time he thought she’d never speak to him again and they found themselves back to each other. He wasn’t holding his breath for more to happen, but wishful thinking kept him going.

-

Duncan hoped she wouldn’t ask him to take her to the airport because he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle that goodbye.

Her last few days in town were so busy, Duncan hardly got a chance to see her. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and stared out his view.

Emma was leaving the next morning and he hadn’t had a chance of a real goodbye.

What he didn’t know was that Emma found herself at his apartment door. Her stomach was tied in knots over the anxiety of it all.

Duncan opened the door after a soft knock.

Emma.

“Hi,”

“Hi” as confused as he was, he was also so happy she came.

“I just came to say bye,” she bit her lip in that way Duncan was too familiar with. He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.

“Do you want to come in?” he moved out of the doorframe to let her in.

“I shouldn’t,” but she took a step forward.

“Tomorrow’s the day,” she sighed, nervously fidgeting with her clothes.

“Getting cold feet?” he joked.

“Didn't have cold feet when I married you, not getting cold feet now,” she laughed, cheeks burning hot.

“I just really came to see you before I left,”

“I’m glad you did. I have something for you. Wait here,” he rushed to his bedroom to get his college sweatshirt she loved. She made him take it when they split up. He’s never worn it since she used to - that was hers and she should have it.

“Dunc,” she smiled, taking the sweatshirt he handed her. “Thank you,” she hugged him.

She hugged him and didn’t let go. He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, breathing in her familiar scent, and just held her.

“I have to go,” she mumbled against his shoulder without making an effort to move.

“I know,” he squeezed her harder, making her laugh.

They eventually let each other go for their final goodbye.

“Promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” she promised. She reached up to grab his face, giving him a kiss on his cheek, “Bye, honey,” she said softly in his ear.

tagging:

@xavierplympton @thatonehumanbeing05 @plsfuckmelangdon @ntxoza @quillanpie @bloodcoatedeclipse @kitty4860 @welcometothelioncage @angelicmichael @silky-luxe @lady-jane-revisited @ritualmichael @feralthoughtdump @bitchchatter @wroteclassicaly @langdonswhoreprobably @devilish-hecate @thatspookyagent @dark-mei-rose @lovelylangdonx @fckinsupreme @littledemondani @brattylovee @ferndolan @dhampiravidi @7-wonders @melodylangdon @allytrap @luciahoneychurch @moriatysringtone7173

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Nosocomephobia (a Jacques Snicket x Olivia Caliban fanfic)

@ethala - One of the children gets sick (with a cold or the flu or something) and their siblings and friends are rightfully anxious concerned Olivia and Jacques are not only dealing with the sick child, but the protective children too

Still relatively unhappy with this. But #studystress

AO3

Nosocomephobia

‘No hospitals!’ Klaus announced abruptly, causing Olivia to jump as she looked up from the toddler in her arms. She and Jacques had been talking quietly about what to do with Sunny who had come down with a fever they couldn’t break and was barely keeping her head up. The youngest of their adopted children was lethargic, she could hardly keep her eyes open and hadn’t properly eaten anything in days.

The librarian had read everything she could about helping toddlers fight disease but nothing was helping Sunny. Their case was getting dire. ‘Klaus, I think we might have to.’ She grimaced at him, trying to give the boy some support as she pulled a hand away from the toddler to squeeze his arm.

‘No!’ He told her, making a fuss as stubborn tears started to blur in his eyes. ‘We’ll read more books. We don’t need a doctor or a hospital to help Sunny, we can help her ourselves!’ He was adamant, standing his ground with rolled fists and a stern look on his face despite the distress he was displaying.

‘Honey,’ Olivia started, hand reaching for him a second time as the boy pulled away. She flinched, hurt that he wouldn’t want her comfort. They hadn’t had a single problem with the children until Sunny had fallen sick and Olivia wasn’t sure if they had grown comfortable with time enough to start pushing buttons of is Sunny’s illness was rattling all of them.

She turned to Jacques with a helpless look in her eye. Olivia felt like she was out of her depth with the upset boy. They had helped the children through a trauma, one that Olivia was still trying to understand and never once had she faltered with them. But, Sunny, with her burning forehead pressed against Olivia’s chest, was draining her of the mental strength to solve Klaus’ problems before he could announce what they were. ‘What’s the problem, Klaus?’ Jacques asked, his hand sitting steady on the back of Olivia’s chair, eyes watching over her shoulder as Sunny’s eyes fluttered closed, fever still rosing her cheeks. ‘Your sister is very sick and no one here is a professional in medicine.’ He knew a few tricks of the trade for minor injuries and curing a cold when one had important secret organisation business to attend to. This was something else.

Nothing was going to stop them, two grown adults, from taking the baby to the hospital. Not even Klaus’ concerns but they felt the need to accommodate the boy who was getting increasingly upset.

The boy fidgeted, growing agitated with himself as the adults looked for an answer in the young teen. ‘I just, I don’t like hospitals.’

‘You don’t have to come, honey, that’s okay.’ They weren’t planning on carting all the children out there any way there was no use making them sit in the emergency room when only one of them was sick.

Klaus shook his head, his words earnest. ‘I have to protect her.’

His adoptive mother smiled, the look on her face melting with the same supportive grin she had been giving the children since she met them. ‘Klaus, it’s okay. We’ve got this now. You get to go be a teenage boy.’ She wasn’t telling him to not worry about his sisters but that he could let go of the reigns. This was her job now, Jacques too and they were doing a great job at keeping them safe.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t want you to take her to the hospital.’ He was still trying for stern despite the shake in his voice. ‘She’ll be scared.’

‘I won’t leave her side, I promise.’ Olivia offered. ‘We’re not going to let anyone hurt your sister, Klaus but she does need help. I am very scared of what will happen to her if we don’t get her to the hospital.’ She pleaded with him, trying not to scare the boy but also expressing her urgency. ‘I’m more scared than what she’ll be and it’ll be nothing like what you children endured after your parents died. I promise.’

Olivia had a habit of saying ‘I promise’ but so far in everyone’s experience she had not failed on a single promise yet.

‘You won’t leave her? Not for anything?’ He asked, holding Olivia’s gaze as he made her promise again.

She smiled at him softly, eyes quickly retreating to Sunny’s fever raddled face. ‘I love you children as fierce and as strong as your own mothers had. I swore nothing bad would happen to any of you but I can’t protect Sunny from this illness on my own. Jacques and I have our limits. Trust me when I say I won’t let her out of my sight, not for a single second.’

The young teen still looked concerned but he nodded, granting the adults permission to guard his sister into a place he did not want her to go.

The others looked puzzled when Jacquelyn arrived, smiling at them with excitement as Isadora and  Duncan sat on the floor trying to teach the puppies to balance things on their nose. Jacques nodded to them, all eyes looking in his direction for affirmation while Violet stared at the side of her brother’s head. He helped his wife with her coat, Olivia juggling the toddler in her arms until she was ready to brace the old outdoors of the cities outskirts.

‘We’ll be back before you know it, children.’ She told them, dropping a kiss on each of their heads as they all said bye to Sunny, Isadora squeezing her little hand.

‘We’ll call.’ Jacques promised Klaus, nodding towards the boy while Olivia ran over emergency details with Jacquelyn. ‘C’mon, she knows what to do.’ He tugged at his wife’s arm, pulling her away from their five children and the sitter as he reminded her that they had one, in particular, they needed to focus on.

[…]

‘You’re making me worried now, Klaus.’ Isadora approached them, two eldest Baudelaire’s sitting on the couch and staring off into space. They were lost without their sister, unsure as to how they could conduct their lives even for a few hours. They were used to protecting each other.

Klaus looked the worst for wear, Violet putting her hand on her brother’s shoulder before she turned to their friend and now quasi-sister. ‘He has a fear of the hospital.’

‘Phobia.’ Klaus corrected. ‘It means an irrational fear. I know I shouldn’t be scared, that everyone needs hospitals — that Sunny needs the hospital — but past experience dictates all logic.’

‘Our parents left him unattended,’ Violet continued. ‘There was a clown in the children’s ward, there to make the kids feel better but Klaus woke up alone, no mom or dad and only this clown twisting a balloon into an animal.’

It seemed harmless. Barely an issue at all, but the incident of waking up to that balloon animal screeching latex against latex and finding both of his parents absent despite their promise not to leave his side. He worried for Sunny. Worried that Jacques and Olivia would step out for a second to get some fresh air or seek out a cup of coffee. He feared that Sunny would wake at that time, unwell and disorientated and she would panic just as he did. That feeling of abandonment had surfaced full throttle in the back of his throat — it was almost humorous now to think that his parents had left them, all of them, for good and that feeling barely wormed its way up his spine. Ironic that he had worried so much when the threat was barely there.

‘They won’t leave her.’ Isadora reassured, her smile soft and sweet on her cheeks. They wouldn’t leave Sunny not after what had happened to all six of them. Olivia wanted to protect them too fiercely to need a minute of fresh air while the baby was sleeping in a hospital bed.

Klaus nodded, accepting the other girl's words with a forced smile. He was still worried, nothing was going to stop that but Isadora’s words as soft as the promise was matched so sweetly with what Olivia had said.

[…]

Olivia was back in the morning, Sunny asleep in Jacques’ arms.

The hospital staff managed to break her temperature after a long night of struggling. Olivia felt dead on her feet, exhausted down to the bone as they shuffled through the door during mid-morning as the children were clearing off the table from breakfast.

‘You’re home!’ Violet was the first to notice, dropping the cutlery she was carrying to race over to her guardians and sister. ‘Is she okay?’ The girl didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate and didn’t ask before she was pulling her sister from Jacques’ hold as the man tried to tell her to leave the toddler be.

They knew they would never slip back into that house quietly. With five children there was no going unnoticed when one was coming and going or trying to do things without being detected. Each of those children had reason enough to be on high alert with every rustle and creak of the house. Although Olivia and Jacques had shown there was nothing to fear it was only natural that the kids were still checking over their shoulders.

Violet took her sister, transferring the girl into her arms as she cuddled her close, squeezing as she pressed a kiss to Sunny’s still warm cheek. ‘We were going to go tuck her into bed.’ Jacques offered flatly, frowning at the teen who had no care for what he said. She wanted to see that her sister was okay with her own hands and eyes.

It took a second flat before Klaus and the Quagmire’s joined them, each child reaching for Sunny, touching her or pulling her from the arms of the other.

Olivia watched Sunny move about the group, still sick, still lethargic, not protesting to the hands that kept changing her. ‘She’s doing better. It was a long night.’ Olivia sighed, her whole body shifting now that she was in the comfort of her own home. Would it be wrong of her to disappear to her bedroom for a nap now that Sunny was under the watchful eye of her siblings?

‘We’ll take her to her room.’ Violet answered Olivia’s silent question, offering her guardian a smile in the middle of a hoard of children. Each of them nodded, offering comfort to the adults with slumping shoulders.

Even Jacquelyn was nodding, promising with a wink that she would keep an eye on the children for a little while longer as the ruffled adults managed to get some shut-eye.

‘Children,’ Olivia called to them, their bodies moving up the stairs, Sunny in tow. Isadora was mindlessly chatting about the perfect book of poems to settle Sunny into a deep and restful sleep. They turned, each one stopping to look back at Olivia. ‘No more hospitals?’ She asked, half a demand as a smile cracked across their faces all of them promising it. She couldn’t lose any more sleep sitting in hospital chairs agonising over the young life in front of her. It hurt too much to see Sunny in pain. She was the youngest, still defenceless. It hurt the most to watch her struggle but it did not mean Olivia had the strength to watch the others through it too.

‘Go get some sleep.’ Klaus nodded towards their direction, leading his siblings upstairs, his hand holding on to Sunny’s.  

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #181

VM 3x12 There’s Got To Be a Morning After Pill

Stray thoughts

1)  The episode starts with Veronica’s dream.

She wakes up and gets off the bed.

LOGAN: I don't want you to go.

VERONICA: I wish I didn't have to.

Then she goes to the balcony and takes in the view.

The moment is broken when she hears a girl’s giggles coming from inside. And then…

There’s really no subtlety in this dream, right? It’s clear Veronica has already made up her mind the Madison thing is not something she’s going to get over and that she’ll break up with Logan. But I think it’s not only about the fact he slept with Madison. It’s also about her constant fear that he will cheat on her because she feels sexually inferior to Logan and his previous sexual partners. 

2) Veronica is woken up by Logan’s phone call. He jokes about their date that night, and Veronica tries her best to keep up the banter but her mind is somewhere else. Logan ends the call by playfully telling her “Don’t go changing”, a line which seems to be addressing one of the reasons they broke up a few episodes ago: Veronica is constantly expecting Logan to change to fit her expectations but feels wronged when Logan expects the same of her, even though all of he was asking of her was not to be reckless or put herself in danger when she goes snooping around. Logan seems to be extending an olive branch with this line, it’s his way of saying he wants a fresh start and that he’ll try not to make the same mistakes they’ve made before.

But all Veronica can think about is his tryst with Madison.

The question is, why hasn’t Veronica confronted him about it yet? It seems a couple of days have gone by, and even though it’s clear the Madison thing is the only thing on her mind, she doesn’t bring it up, not until later. Is it because of their “come clean” bedroom talk the previous episode, in which he admitted to having slept with someone while they were broken up? Does she feel she has to hold her “promise” that she still loves him, despite his confessions?

It somehow feels out of character for Veronica to be torturing herself in this way by keeping quiet when she is always been so confrontational, especially when it comes to finding out dirt on Logan…

3) This is truly one of the most messed up cases in the series (yes, in a series that repeatedly and rather questionably dealt with rape storylines, this is probably more messed up…)

BONNIE: I got pregnant and someone slipped me RU-486. VERONICA: RU...? BONNIE: It causes a miscarriage and I want you to find out who it was.

4) Can I ask why we are still cutting Dick slack? Why did the writers? Why did Veronica?

VERONICA: I'm so sorry, Bonnie. I'm looking for the least rude way to ask you if you know who the father was...  And that's what I came up with.

BONNIE: It was Tim...or Dick.

VERONICA: Fair enough. So, did Tim or Dick know about the baby?

BONNIE: They both did. At first, I was just so freaked out, I didn't even think I wanted to keep the baby. I went to Dick and asked if he'd help pay for the procedure.

VERONICA: How did that go?

BONNIE: He said he'd pay... after I got a paternity test.

VERONICA: Yeah. He's a classy dude.

5) And here we go again…

VERONICA: Did you and Madison have sex over winter break? I asked you point-blank.

LOGAN: And I lied. Point-blank. It wasn't information that you had a right to know. I knew you wouldn't be able to deal with the Madison thing.

VERONICA: Which thing are you talking about? The "she roofied me" thing or the thing when I stumbled to my car in the morning, wondering where my virginity was, and she'd written "slut" on my windshield? Was that what you thought I couldn't deal with? I am so genuinely sick right now. If I could have eaten anything today, I'd be throwing up all over your floor.

LOGAN: We were broken up at the time.

VERONICA: You know how I feel about her. There's no way that, at some point while it was happening, that you weren't thinking about how much I'd hate you being with her.

LOGAN: It wasn't like that.

VERONICA: No? Do you want another variation? 'Cause I've got a million sickening scenarios running on a loop right now.

LOGAN: I wasn't trying to hurt you.

VERONICA: Oh. Really? Imagine if you tried.

LOGAN: What do you want me to do? What can I do?

VERONICA: Make it not true? Get it out of my head and never let me think about it again? 'Cause...unless you can do that, this is something I'm never getting past.

It’s hard for me to side with Veronica here, though. I mean, I get how she would feel betrayed. Madison had tortured her throughout high school and was the embodiment of everything she hated. But the reasoning she uses here to explain why she feels so betrayed is all... skewed.

Repeat with me: MADISON DID NOT ROOFIE VERONICA.

She didn’t. All Madison was guilty of was being a mean girl who had decided to give Veronica “a trip to the dentist.” Madison wasn’t aware the drink had been laced by her then boyfriend to rape her, if I may add. How is not Dick blamed for it, the one who had actually laced the drink? How is Logan not blamed, the one who had brought the drugs to the party? How are Duncan and Cassidy not blamed, the first for having dubious consent intercourse with her and the latter for actually raping her? Why is Madison the sole focus of Veronica’s hatred on account of what happened to her that night? Why is our heroine so misguidedly misogynistic?

Madison did spray-painted “slut” on Veronica’s windshield. But again, Veronica is only seeing things from her perspective: she had woken up after being raped to find that written on her windshield. Unfortunate, yes. Mean, of course. But it had nothing to do with the rape or Madison’s unknowing involvement in it. Madison had seen Veronica making out with her boyfriend. The reaction might be exaggerated, but it’s hardly on par with the viciousness of what everyone else but Madison did to Veronica that night.

It's all very unfortunate because had Veronica’s arguments for her feelings of betrayal been written differently, I could relate to her. If I found out my boyfriend had slept with someone he’s fully aware I despise while we were on a break and then got back together with me, I would also feel betrayed. I probably wouldn’t be able to look past it, just like Veronica. Especially considering she had to find out from the other party involved. But her sense of betrayal is undermined by the fact she seems to be putting all the blame for one of the most horrible things to ever happen to her on the person who least deserves it, while she’s been dating and hanging out with people who were far more responsible…

Rant over. It’s just this whole Madison thing is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. It’s probably one of my biggest issues with the show.

6) And here she is, fraternizing with a would-be rapist. No qualms whatsoever. She even apologizes for hurting his feelings by telling him about Logan and Madison.

7) Now, this is the Veronica I love, playing on stereotypes to get her way…

  VERONICA VOICEOVER: Sometimes when things don't work out the way a girl wants them to, there's nothing quite as satisfying as the hissy fit.

8) And I love that she’s honest with her dad for once…

VERONICA: Logan and I broke up...again. My idea this time.

KEITH: Ah, I am sorry. You doing okay?

VERONICA: No... No, no, no, no, no.

9) And then she goes mental. But at least she admits it…

VERONICA VOICEOVER: If there is a justification for my actions right now, it's this. I have gone completely crazy. When I'm lying in bed and I can't sleep because of visions of Madison and Logan rolling around, she wins. When I've got her in my sights, I'm in control.

10) Oh, and the throwaway line to remind us that Mac and Madison were switched at birth…

VERONICA VOICEOVER: And watching her get a new Mercedes for her birthday...very healing. At least it's reminded me that I need to buy Mac a present.

Remember when that was a storyline?

11) So Logan’s been holing up in his room for, what, two days? 

At least he’s catching up on the news, right? 

12) She almost flipped her hair…

WEEVIL: Oh, you sought me out. That can only mean one thing. You need a favour.

VERONICA: Is it a favour if it's something we both would enjoy?

14) It’s really hard to watch Veronica be that girl who blames her boyfriend “cheating” on her on the other girl. And to even consider going to such lengths to carry out her vendetta? Despicable!

VERONICA: Remember you told my criminology class about how you stole some guy's car and had it crushed?

WEEVIL: (...) Whose is it?

VERONICA: Madison Sinclair's.

15) How am I just noticing this guy is Scrubs’ Doug?!

16)

EDDIE: This is Carson Drew and his assistant... What's your assistant's name?

KEITH: Nancy.

THURMAN: They're lying to you, Eddie. She came into our office yesterday calling herself Hester, claiming she was troubled.

17) And then the voicemail…

LOGAN: Ah! Veronica's voice mail! So, where are you, Veronica? Out digging through someone's trash, maybe? Interrogating one of your friends? Beating out a confession? You know, if you dig deep enough, you're gonna find that everyone's a sinner. Judge not, Veronica, etcetera, etcetera. All right, stay on message, Logan. Okay, honestly...it's encouraging that someone still has such high expectations of me. Veronica, I would give anything if I could take back that night in Aspen. I'm sorry it causes you so much pain. I'm sorry it happened. And I really love you, Veronica.

I love how he starts out angry and hurt, and then he just breaks down and opens up about how in awe he is at the fact she still has high hopes for him. This is rather heartbreaking. 

Unfortunately, Veronica never heard the message. Such a travesty.

18) This reveal though…

VERONICA: Bonnie. I think Tim slipped you the RU-486.

REV. CAPISTRANO: What? Bonnie? What is she-

BONNIE: Why do you say it was Tim?

VERONICA: This bookmark is...a gift, sent by a pro-life group to everyone who comes out of the Neptune clinic. It's the only clinic in the area that provides RU-486. It's some sort of a shame campaign. I just found it in the pregnancy book Tim gave you. By the way, your CFO works with the same group.

REV. CAPISTRANO: Somebody slipped you...Bonnie, why didn't you tell-

BONNIE: Phyllis.

VERONICA: Bonnie?

BONNIE: Tim didn't give me that book. Phyllis did.

19) And it’s the reverend’s words and example what finally makes Veronica see the error of her ways…

REV. CAPISTRANO: She didn't mean to hurt you. She didn't mean to. Try to be forgiving. It's the only way. Anger will tear you down. It'll make you less of the person that you want to be. And it will tear apart your soul. The Bible teaches us that he who is slow to anger is better than the mighty and he who rules his spirit can capture a city. He who is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who is quick-tempered exalts folly.

20) Well, she is a marshmallow after all…

VERONICA: Let's not do it.

WEEVIL: Are you sure? 'Cause, you know, I...I did go through all the trouble of stealing it.

VERONICA: Here's a little something for the effort. Maybe you could open a can of tuna, set it inside her A/C vent, then park it back on the block.

WEEVIL: I can do that.

VERONICA: Yeah.

WEEVIL: You're going soft, Mars.