Expecting a Secret [2/3]

Based on what Killian was feeling and seeing, the next morning found him roughly at the 23-week mark (as expected, he’d spent most of the night studying his borrowed book—and was feeling thoroughly overwhelmed). His stomach looked yet larger, but his vest still had plenty of room, even if the laces on the side were let out a bit more.

He also found himself resting his hand on his belt to further hide the increasingly obvious curve of his midsection (at least, it appeared so to him, given all the decades that his form had remained unchanged). It seemed to work, thankfully, but he also made an effort to not be too social; he took lunch with Emma and Henry, at their request, but had to pass on their invite to dine at the loft that night. He cited his desire to avoid the extra burden on Snow—who it was implied could go into labor at any moment, though he had (good) reason to believe they had a bit more time, assuming Zelena’s implication that she had control over Snow’s pregnancy was true—but in reality, he knew his ravenous appetite would be nigh impossible to hide in such close quarters. (Granny was far less discerning, especially with with her approving comments about “putting some meat on his bones.”)

“We’ll miss you,” Henry told him as he and Emma left the diner that afternoon; Killian wasn’t sure if what he felt at that was his heart skipping a beat, or yet another kick from the little one, which were happening with increasing frequency and strength. 

He tried his damnedest to swallow his emotions and looked up at Emma, who was giving him a similar gentle look. “I, uh, I’ll miss you too—lad,” he added quickly. “Until next time.”

He was glad he’d left things vague when he yet again felt immediate relief at unclasping his vest once back in his room. The odds of it fitting even later that day were slim to none, which would no doubt draw Emma’s attention. No, he’d do best to avoid her the next several days, until this whole thing was done. 

That was something else he’d noticed—his conscious effort to put distance between him and this child, even if it obviously was more emotional than physical. His paternal side would find it far too easy to start considering names for the wee one, to caress his growing stomach and maybe even serenade the baby, to start preparing for the future. He wasn’t even sure the babe was his—but that had never stopped him before.

Until he knew how to keep them safe from Zelena’s clutches, though, he didn’t dare; that might only lead to heartbreak, and he’d known enough of that for a few lifetimes. 

He did ask Emma, during a moment when Henry stepped away to the restroom, if any progress had been made regarding the witch problem, given that his attempt at research was fruitless. 

“Nothing yet,” she sighed. “Unless we can somehow steal the items back before my mom goes into labor, our only hope is my magic.” Her eyes briefly darted to his lips; he leaned away from her. 

“I’d say both are good plans,” he assured her. “Especially the second one.”

She rolled her eyes, but blushed. “I think you’re the only person confident in that.”

“Well, take some of mine, then. Remember: I have yet to see you fail,” he reminded her, and placed his hand over hers on the diner table. 

The look she gave him was heavy; she still wasn’t used to people having that kind of faith in her, he knew. But if this was his only way of thwarting the witch—of keeping two infants safe—he’d give her as much support as he could.

The moment was simultaneously interrupted by Henry’s return, and a strong kick from his passenger—as if to remind him that at some point here (sooner than he’d care to admit), he’d have to go into hiding. He’d have to figure out a way to offer his support from afar. 

But until there was a definite plan, he was going to keep things as impersonal as possible, merely trying to make sure he complied with Zelena’s rules and did whatever he needed to remain something resembling comfortable. The babe seemed to be growing just fine; his stomach was maybe a touch smaller than average, but that could be attributed to him also being taller than the typical expectant parent, as well as a life at sea demanding denser core muscles. 

Hopefully, that remained the trend; he’d read the section about what happened after birth in more detail and…it wasn’t pretty. And he was still a rather vain man, with a woman to woo, if she’d still have him. 

(He hadn’t given much thought as to how he might explain this to Emma after the fact, if at all; he hoped the simple fact that Zelena was no longer going after the Charmings would be enough that they wouldn’t even need to have the conversation. However, he wasn’t naive enough to count on it.)

my heart is going down with angst too.

"Plan of detachment" this is freaking good 😂😂

BUT WHEN YOU'LL HAVE TO BE IN NOTHING BUT BOXER THEY'LL NOTICE

bwahaha and heeeeere we gooo!! weeeeeee !! Angst costeeeeeeer !! 😂😭😭😭😭

HERMIONEEEEE SOMEONE STOLE YA BAAAAAAAG

looool... she should be glad he did not punch her in the face... that would have been funny heeheeheee also creepy Zelena Cullen way of looking at sleeping people 👀

I SHALL LIE STILL WITH HIM N THE BED TILL HE SURVIVE THE BIRTH TIME AND WE BLOODY KNOW THE MOMY BC I COULD BE EMMA BUT ALSO MAYBE NOT BUT WHO KNOWS WELL @walviemort KNOWS

Expecting a Secret [1/3]

Killian left the hospital feeling—-well, the worst he had in a long while. Perhaps he’d been rash in trying to get Henry out of town without his mother’s permission, but it was the only way he could think of to get around Zelena’s curse on his lips. 

Worse, though, was the fact that he’d lost the trust of not just Emma, but her family. It wasn’t entirely his fault—but some of it was.

It’d been clear he wasn’t needed or wanted at the hospital after it appeared Snow was going into labor, but it ended up being a false alarm; thank goodness, as they were far from prepared to protect the babe from the witch.

After a rather long moment of self-flagellation—in the form of watching the family take a well-deserved breath together in Snow’s hospital room, something he’d never be part of now—he shuffled off without goodbye, into the night.

His feet found him instinctively wandering toward the docks—further reminder of his shame, but he wanted to wallow in it tonight, punish himself further; it was what he deserved.

The vacant berth that had once held his ship was a fairly accurate metaphor for how he felt: empty, adrift, far from port, with only the churning sea to match his jumbled emotional state. He took a swig of rum, but the familiar burn did nothing for him.

“I warned you.”

He didn’t even flinch when he heard Zelena’s voice behind him; honestly, he expected it.

“It was pure luck they all showed up when they did. Otherwise, you’d have some more blood on your hands,” she went on, heeled footsteps sounding as she approached his side.

“The bloody hell do you want?” He was annoyed, but his reply had none of its usual bite.

“I want what I came here for. But now that you’ve told all the Charmings what my intention for you was, and now that they have their memories back, that’s all been dashed. Highly doubt the Savior is letting you get anywhere near her now.”

His heart somehow fell further, and it had already been near his feet. “No, I don’t imagine she will,” he concurred; were he and Emma’s situations reversed, he couldn’t say he wouldn’t do the same.

“That said, I still need your help to continue my plans.”

“Like hell,” he spat, then began to walk away—but she was suddenly in his path.

“Let me put it this way, Captain—you have two choices,” Zelena told him. “Either you can help me, and I leave Emma’s family alone,” she started, holding up one hand, “or I continue to go after all of them, no holds barred,” she finished, holding up the other. “It’s entirely your choice.”

Neither option was ideal. Knowing that Zelena basically wanted to wipe out the existence of Regina and Snow (and, consequently, Emma and Henry), he was loath to aid her in any way, shape, or form—especially considering she had no leverage anymore. 

But perhaps, if he did take her offer, he’d be able to find a way to subvert it—and redeem himself in their eyes.

“Fine,” he replied, albeit reluctantly. “I’ll help. Do whatever you need with me. But you must leave Snow, Emma, and their family alone.”

The wicked grin that took over her face should have been his warning. “Then we have a deal, contingent on one thing: you’re to actually keep it a secret this time.”

“Done.” It’s not like they’d listen to him, anyway.

She offered her hand to him to shake on it; he moved closer and took it. “It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you, Captain,” she said slyly.

He tried to let go of her hand, but she held tight. And her other hand began to glow that awful garish green, now held outstretched in front of her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“What we just agreed on,” she answered, her eyes wide and seeming slightly unhinged. “Using you to get what I need.”

Then she swiftly stepped forward and shoved the ball of magic into his stomach. He hunched over for a moment, a slight cramping taking over, but then it dissipated, merely leaving him slightly sore. “What did you do?” he demanded, slightly out of breath.

“I still need a baby,” she said matter-of-factly. “So now you’re going to provide it.”

Alright, let's go watch some Killian "of bloody hell I've got myself in trouble AGAIN " Jones fic!!

and very good shit happening already and oh my... are we in for some angst too?? i think we are...

the fic that goes with this isn't quite done, but I couldn't let @sancocnutclub's birthday pass without anything!! Hope you're enjoying your day so much, friend!!

(original)

heehee "ittle passenger" i love the sound of that haha THank you so muuuch for that little snippet!! tho now we got a problem....

Control - Puddle of Mudd

hidden blessing (13/?)

Killian was surprised at how much relief he felt when the Storybrooke harbor came into sight. Being safely out of Neverland was certainly part of it, but seeing that quaint little town that was apparently working its way into his heart was its own kind of soothing. 

If he had to guess, the gentle but persistent kicking he was feeling from his baby echoed his own joy. 

That said—he did have to bite back a pang of loneliness at watching the reception his allies were given upon disembarking the ship; even Regina was hailed as a hero by the townsfolk that, he had thought, were generally distrustful of her. He stood on the gangplank watching the reunions and feeling very much like an outsider again. 

It wasn’t that he wanted attention or gratitude; he had just apparently come to enjoy the feeling of being included. 

(He was at least assuaged by the fact that Emma looked equally uncomfortable with all eyes on her and her family; the somewhat panicked look she shot his way once he eventually disembarked was met with a knowing nod.)

After confirming that the waters of Neverland were working on David for the moment, everyone began to dissipate and move back toward the center of town. He hung back, though, citing a need to fully secure the ship—and, frankly, he needed a moment alone to continue to convince himself that the babe was all he needed; that they were family enough (and more than he’d had in decades). 

(He did, however, miss the longing glance Emma gave him as she was ushered back into town by her parents and son. But as long as he wasn’t going anywhere, she’d have time to talk to him later. And maybe more.)

—---------------------

Later that day, after wrapping up on the ship and running another errand, he found himself with the rest of the crowd in Granny’s. As soon as he’d walked in the door, every single craving he’d had on the island came back to him at full force; he didn’t even know what to order. Granny chuckled when he explained the situation and told him she’d take care of it. He honestly didn’t recognize half the foods she gave him—some kind of fish, and perhaps some bacon?—but it was divine. (He couldn’t blame the sudden snugness of his vest on the babe alone.)

He was sipping on some ginger tea afterwards (lest that amazing meal come back up) when he cast a glance across the diner—and noticed Emma sitting there, with Henry. Much as he longed to join them, it was a stark reminder, as had been everything since they landed: his focus needed to be on his child, and nothing else, much as hers was likely on getting Henry settled back into his life here.

A presence was suddenly in his space, and Neal was sliding onto the stool next to him.

“Didn’t know you drank anything but rum,” he teased, nodding at the mug and then taking a sip of his own ale.

“As I understand, that wouldn’t be ideal for a fetus,” he replied. “And don't worry, I'm not here to pursue the Lady Swan.”

“Yeah, you're just here to enjoy Granny’s excellent cooking.”

“I am, actually. And I've made a decision when it comes to Emma: I'm gonna back off.

“Back off?” Neal sounded surprised.

“I have enough to focus on with impending parenthood; I don’t need to actively be throwing romance into that equation. Which I suppose lets you have a fair shot at her, without a devilishly handsome pirate standing in the way,” he winked, then finished his tea.

“You're serious?” He seemed genuinely touched.

“Yeah. I am devilishly handsome.”

WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE DON'T GET TO SEE THE SHADOW CAPTURED???

but then wait, that means... maybe more of it is planned next chapter... mmmh gooood, goood goood.

also I couldn't help my "wait, he knows what a fœtus is now ?!?!?", aka, I'm too used to Killian referring his little one as well, little one or babe lol

“You’re gonna have a great daddy, kiddo,” she told it, “and I hope I’m a part of your life, too.”

Me:

*now, KISS*

hidden blessing (12/?)

Killian was jolted from sleep by a sharp pain in his stomach. His eyes fluttered open as he yelped and his hand immediately rushed to the spot the pain was coming from—but something didn’t feel right.

He looked down—and gasped: his belly was much larger than it had been when he fell asleep; it looked like he was about to give birth, and he could feel his babe squirming around impatiently inside.

“No, no, no—what’s happening?” he murmured, hoping he didn’t wake anyone else. Then he hissed as another jolt of pain hit him, under his palm.

“Tick tock, tick tock—looks like someone’s about to pop.”

His eyes darted to the side, where Pan was smirking and staring at his round bump.

“What the hell did you do?” Killian demanded, then groaned again as another contraction came, even stronger than the last.

“Did you really think you and that babe would get out of this scot-free?” he taunted. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“No, no—you can’t—ahh!” he tried to beg, but it was cut off as his contractions came even closer together.

“Push, Hook,” Pan told him, now below him—waiting to catch the babe, as it were. “You don’t want something bad to happen to them because you didn’t, do you?”

“I won’t,” he panted, even as the pain and pressure increased.

“Oh, but you have to,” Pan said, almost teasing. “Or I’ll take them myself.”

Killian’s body betrayed him and he felt himself bearing down on the next contraction, just like he’d read in his pregnancy books. But it was the last thing he wanted to do.

And then, suddenly, Pan was standing over him with an infant in his arms. They were wrapped in a blanket so he couldn’t see their face, but he could hear them crying—and his heart broke. “Please, Pan—have some humanity; give them back,” he cried, reaching for them.

Pan just stepped back and laughed. “No; they’re mine now.” And disappeared.

“No, no, no!” he screamed, and tried to get up to make chase, but he didn’t get very far when—

—When Emma was whisper-yelling his name, gently shaking him awake. “Hook! Are you okay?”

He was panting and looking around; he was at the camp still, everyone else was still asleep, and, blessedly, his babe was still growing within him, wiggling around in his womb. 

He sighed in relief and fell back against his bedroll. “A terrible dream,” he replied. “Pardon me, but I just need to…” he started, trailing off as he undid the buckle of the belt around his vest, then pressed his palm against the still-small bump. Thank the gods; everything was still as it was supposed to be.

“I take it your dream was about the baby?” she asked quietly, taking a seat next to him.

“Aye,” he nodded, and gave her the run-down of it. Saying it out loud helped calm him, somehow.

When he was done, to his shock, Emma reached for his hand where it still sat on his stomach and squeezed it. “I’ve had a few of those, too, since we got here. Honestly, I’ve had them ever since Henry was under that sleeping curse, but now, I just keep seeing him being taken—by Pan, Regina, Neal. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“Indeed,” he agreed as he sat up—and caught her hand in his as he moved. “And Swan—we will save him; we’ve come too far not to at this point.”

I was SOOOOOOOO glad of a new chapter!!! kinda carving some preg killian recently XD

tho that start had me reading the last chapter again thinking I had missed something 😅😂😂 but thankfully not haha

and like I said to a friend about the update, it's not a cliff BUT HOW COULD YOU LEAVE US LUKE THAT?????

thankfully apparently we won't have to wait too much long for it so yay

Whumpers!

I'm curious to see at what age y'all had your first whump thoughts, even if it was before you learned what whump even is. AKA your whump awakening. For me it was watching a show, getting a blorbo from it, and almost immediately after putting him in SituationsTM. It could be something like that, or coming up with random fantasies, or a dramatic drawing you did as a toddler. It could be anything, really, and from any age, as long as it can fall under the whump description in any way.

Note: It's not when you realized what whump is and that you're a whumper! It's how old you remember being when you first had whump thoughts!

hidden blessing (11/?)

After the general discomfort of the revelations in the Echo Caves, Killian found himself dealing with unpleasantness of a different kind—nausea again. Just before they made it back to camp, he had to duck behind a tree to deal with that; he couldn’t wait to get back to Storybrooke and talk to Doc to find out just when that was supposed to go away. 

He swished his mouth out with some rum, then spat it out before strolling back into camp. The rest of the group was gathered around Bae in conversation; as he approached, he heard him saying, “I know how to navigate the stars, but I can’t fly.” Killian ducked his head to hide his smirk at that; he was glad to hear the now-grown lad hadn’t forgotten the skills he’d taught him, but it wasn’t the time to gloat about that. 

“I’m guessing that’s where the Shadow comes in,” Snow said—and, to his surprise, passed a canteen to him, despite David standing in between them. He nodded his thanks and took a long drag. 

“That’s why we have to capture it,” Bae replied—to which Killian nearly choked on his water. Was he mad?

“Capture it?” Emma exclaimed, in line with Killian’s own disbelief. “We’ve never been within 10 feet of Pan unless he wanted us to be. Sneaking up on him to steal his shadow? That seems insane.”

He was still in agreement that going after the shadow was insane, but at least had to clarify some facts for Emma. “Except that Pan’s Shadow is rarely with him. It’s an entity unto itself. It can carry out his will from miles away.”

David asked, “So what does that mean for us?”  

“It means we can get his shadow without having to be anywhere near Pan—as long as we know where to look,” Neal clarified. “And I know where to look.”

Killian shuddered—he did, too, and he didn’t like it one bit, even if (as he’d gathered) it was their best way off the island.

“Ok, you and I are on shadow duty,” Emma told Neal, and they moved to start to head out. 

It might be foolish, but Killian sure as hell wasn’t letting them go alone. “As am I,” he interjected. “This trek won’t be easy. You could use another veteran of the island.”

Neal nodded and gave him a casual smile that reminded him distinctly of Milah. “Thanks, man.”

A quick plan was hashed out for after their mission—to meet up at Tink’s with Emma’s parents, and then (finally) make a move for Henry—and then everyone set about what they needed to do. 

At least—he was about to, but Snow intercepted him before he got too far (brushing past David to do so—pointedly, it seemed, as well). “I just wanted to say—congratulations,” she effused, grabbing his hand. “I wish you’d told us sooner; how are you feeling?”

“Uh, I’m fine, luv—thank you,” he replied, trying to make sure his appreciation at the sentiment came through even though David was staring somewhat dejectedly at their exchange. 

She continued to pepper him with questions—how far along he was, symptoms, and so on; he was touched she was so interested but was also fairly certain it was just a distraction. (One he didn’t mind indulging, but he had to prepare to leave, too.)

She thankfully picked up on his desire to get a move on. “Sorry, sorry; I just…have had that kind of stuff on my mind lately,” she said; that was rather obvious. “Just—be safe. All of you.”

“We’ll do our best,” he answered, then she stepped away to prepare for their own trek. He did catch David’s hurt gaze as she walked away, though, and tried to give an encouraging nod as the prince hurried after his wife. 

While Killian was glad he no longer had to hide his expectant state, he hoped he didn’t have too many more exchanges like that; the attention, while appreciated, was somewhat embarrassing. 

But when he walked into Bae’s cave to see what he could assist him and Emma with, he realized: he still had one more person to tell. (Well, and Rumpelstiltskin, wherever the bastard had wandered off to, but that was a low priority.)

Keep reading

aaaah could it means fun is very soon about to start?!?!?

hidden blessing (10/?)

After calming down and setting himself to rights, Killian rejoined the group. He glanced over at Emma, and wondered if the blush on her cheeks was from their encounter or her proximity to the fire. She glanced up and met his eyes, gave a small smile, and immediately looked away; perhaps the former then. (His own certainly was.)

As much as he longed to join her, he was hesitant to burden her with the knowledge Pan had just revealed to him. So instead, he found David and Snow on the edge of the clearing. “We need to talk,” he said quietly, and thankfully they both picked up on the fact he was trying to be subtle. “Pan paid me another visit,” he started, only to be interrupted by Snow.

“Another?” she asked, incredulous. David waved her off, but he was still cursing himself; damn this pregnancy brain.

He didn’t acknowledge it, though. “He, uh… he told me that Neal is alive, that he’s on this very island.”

They were understandably in disbelief, given that Emma was the witness to his supposed demise—until Snow noticed signs of struggle in the foliage on the path by the camp. “Someone was here while we were gone,” she concluded. “We have to tell her.”

They quietly debated whether or not to go along with that idea; he and David were against it, if only because Killian always had a healthy distrust of Pan’s motives.

“You want to find him without letting her know?” she whisper-yelled; he was at least glad she was on the same page as him in regards to tracking him down—if Bae was truly on the island, he couldn’t leave him anywhere near Pan’s grasp again, even if the man was now grown—but he didn’t want to cause Emma any more emotional upheaval until they could confirm or deny it.

“Why hurt her unnecessarily?” he answered quietly.

Snow wistfully glanced over at her daughter. “I’ve never lied to her before.”

“You’re not lying. You’re just keeping a secret until confirmation,” he assured her.

“Secrets always seem to keep us from the people we really care about,” she countered.

“And sometimes, secrets protect the people we love,” David added in. 

Snow turned away—and missed the knowing look the two men shared. But she agreed, assuming they could come up with a good cover to keep their sidetrack hidden, which he and David assured her was no problem.

The reality was…less so, though.

“Where are you guys going?” Emma asked as they gathered their things.

“Firewood,” Killian said at the same time as David answered, “To get water.” Bloody hell—he knew his excuse for being off his game; what was the prince’s?

She (obviously) saw right through it. “Guys, what’s going on?”

Killian and David shifted uncomfortably, but Snow wasted no time in blurting out, “Neal’s alive.”

Keep reading

hidden blessing (9/?)

“I wanna talk. Alone.”

Killian sighed and dropped the bundle of rope before addressing Pan. “What do you want?” He was really not in the mood for the boy’s games. 

“To offer you a deal. Come back and work for me, like the old days.”

He had to laugh at that. “I don’t miss the old days,” he replied—especially when he finally had something to look forward to. 

“What if I were to offer you something hard to come by?” Suddenly, Pan appeared right in front of Killian’s face. “Passage off the island.”

He just shook his head. “Still not interested.” That wasn’t a rare enough thing to warrant any sort of deal with that demon. 

“What if I were to sweeten the deal?” His grin was cocky, but Killian knew he had little to offer. “I can make sure you and that wee one inside you leave unscathed.”

Oh. Shit. 

“Yeah, I know about it. Pretty obvious, really,” Pan scoffed, glancing at Killian’s stomach. 

That was indeed tempting. But no—he couldn’t. Besides, it was an empty threat. “You can’t hurt them while they’re still unborn; I know you think your powers are unlimited but they don’t reach that far.”

“Is that what you think?” Pan countered, followed by a wicked grin that always meant trouble. 

Something shifted in the air around him—particularly, around his midsection. He felt a pressure converge on him, and then a sharp jolt within his belly—stronger and much different than a kick—paired with intense fluttering deep within. 

His hand flew to his stomach instinctively, protectively. But—was it just him, or did his vest feel a bit snugger, his belly slightly rounder? “What did you do?” Killian demanded. 

“Did you forget that I control how time works here? Whether it’s stopped—or moves forward by a week or two?”

Killian continued to trace his stomach—it wasn’t much of a difference, but definitely noticeable. The gentle kicks inside had fallen back to their usual rhythm, almost confirming the growth spurt. 

“Wouldn’t want your child to become a Lost One now; would you?” Pan smirked. 

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HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED THIS?!?!???? 😱😱

it was so goooooood and aaaaaaah that kiss

must cool down.... 🤣🤣

“You poor unfortunate soul..”

The Anon Whump Fairy Strikes Again!

… and Killian won’t like it…

Keep reading

It’s been ages but kay, now that I’ve reread all I’m like dang, got to come clear lol

sooo I was the noni behind this story lol and the sleep deprivation one 😅

so anyway, now I’m happy haha

Hee hee we have news everybody! The anon whump fairy came out!

I still remember the delight in seeing the messages come in! Congrats, my dear ❤️❤️

😁😁 thank you❤️

well now maybe I'll get back to the last one I stared.... but got to re-read the plot hahaha

Anon Whump Fairy Masterpost

An anonymous whump fairy has been visiting this blog and sending short (master)pieces of a story they’ve been writing for me! This post will be updated as the new messages come :)

EDIT: I forgot to mention that this story is a fanfiction of sorts of my fanfiction, Dirty Little Sessions :)

Keep reading

The Anon Whump Fairy Strikes Again!

… and Killian won’t like it…

Keep reading

It's been ages but kay, now that I've reread all I'm like dang, got to come clear lol

sooo I was the noni behind this story lol and the sleep deprivation one 😅

so anyway, now I'm happy haha