Can you imagine them doing everything with her they never got to do when they were kids, like birthday’s, holiday’s, doing homework? Taking pictures of every little moment because they don’t want to forget a second of it.
Killian’s going to be that dad who is going to need two phones just hold all the pictures and video’s of her, I just know it, while Emma is going to want to document every milestone.
And Henry, oh boy, he’s just going to love being an older brother. He’s going to read her stories, make her her own little storybook and make sure she knows all the places he liked to go to and play at when he was her age.
This little girl is going to know so much love… I just…
It is I, your CaptainSwan Secret Valentine! It’s been such fun getting to know you the past couple of weeks! This CS aesthetic was made by @hollyethecurious who is a dear lady and friend that I am eternally grateful to for doing this! You said that you love the idea of a CS baby with blonde hair like her mother and her father’s blue eyes. So Hollye was able to incorporate all of that into this lovely collage that I hope you love as much as I do! Happy Valentines day my dear! I look forward to more of our chats in the future!
OMG this is so gorgeous! Thank you SO much both of you for my wonderful gift, it was definitely a pleasure getting to know you as well!
Here is my extremely late gift to @cshappybeginning (okay, it’s not letting me tag you?! Wtf is that?!) for Captain Swan Secret Santa. Once again, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get your gift to you!! I really enjoyed chatting with you this past holiday season, and was really excited to work on a nice fluffy Christmas fic for you. I hope it lives up to your expectations, and I hope anybody else reading enjoys it too!
Special thanks to @joneskillian for doing a quick beta on this for me!
So without any further ado (god, I’m horrible for taking so long to post this), here’s some Captain Swan and little CS baby Christmas fluff (and some Captain Charming on the side because I couldn’t help myself!)…
—–
Killian stood against the wall near the stairs, sipping occasionally from the mug of rum-laced hot cocoa as he observed his wife’s frazzled grumbling from their living room floor. Her lap was awash in harsh, colorful lights, a jumbled spiderweb of cords creating a haphazard circle around her.
“You sure you don’t need a hand, love?” He questioned in an amused tone. It earned him a green-eyed glare, though the pout on her face made the menace of it practically non-existent. He took another sip from his warm drink.
“You’re not funny.”
Swallowing, Killian licked at his lips and pushed off the wall. “I’m quite the comedian, actually.” He nodded as he slowly stepped in her direction. “It’s not my fault,” He tiptoed over strands of mismatched lights, coming to a crouch at her side. “Your sense of humor isn’t exactly present at the moment.” At her continued glare, he held out his mug towards her. “Maybe this will help, hmm?”
Aaaah, omg thank you so much for this! I enjoyed talking to you as well during the holidays, and thank you so much for my gift! I’m off to read it right now ❤
Summary: Killian and Emma have a rough night with their new baby. ~2500 words. Rated Teen.
Wow, I can’t remember the last time I was nervous to post a fic, but I am straight-up nervous to post this – it is intensely personal, this little fic. Thanks to @j-philly-b for giving it a read through, and to my older kid, I guess, for being a difficult infant. The title is from “She Moved Through the Fair,” because of course it is. Warning for moderately graphic descriptions of breastfeeding, which I found strangely intimate to write for someone who writes so much smut.
Oh and P.S., I’m sticking with the name Maureen. It’s my CS kid name for good or ill.
“Little one, why won’t you sleep? Or eat? Or fucking anything but fucking cry?” Emma whispered, her soothing tone of voice belying the content of her words. She paced the same circle in the nursery for at least the hundredth time, and in her sleep-deprived state, she imagined herself wearing a hole through the wood and the two of them plummeting down, landing in a shower of plaster onto the living room rug on the floor below.
Turning back toward the door, she saw Killian standing in the hallway in his pajamas, squinting against the the lamplight of the room, one side of his hair sticking straight up from the way he’d been sleeping on it. “Do you need help, love?”
She didn’t want to need help. Killian was working at the sheriff’s station tomorrow; he had taken over all of her duties for the next several weeks, and he needed to sleep. She had to handle this herself.
“She won’t stop crying,” Emma said, her voice pitiful to her own ears. “I can’t get her to nurse. She just…” As if to punctuate that point, the five-week-old took a breath and let out an extra loud wail. Emma continued to bounce the baby in her arms, not that it was doing any good.
As requested, here is the first-sex-after-the-baby-is-born Captain Swan smut. Rated Explicit, obvi.
Warning the first: this got long, and clocks in at ~7500 words.
Warning the second: this is what you guys asked me for, so there are some less than sexy, perhaps even unpleasant, things in here of a biological/sexual nature. I think on balance it’s sexy, but I wrote it, and YMMV. Read at your own risk. (Also, this is based as much as memory allowed on my own experiences, not on a thorough, scientific survey of postpartum women, so again, your mileage likely varied. Which is fine.)
Thanks to @j-philly-b for the beta. Probably not her favorite thing that I’ve written, but she read it enthusiastically nonetheless!
Killian stood at the front window, swaying back and forth and patting the baby on the back. It made a satisfying thumping noise, the way his pats resonated in her tiny chest. Sunlight streamed in through the window, warming his face and contributing to the sense of well-being he was filled with, here in his home with his daughter. Maureen nosed against his clavicle through the burping cloth, uttering soft baby grunts as she fidgeted.
A bright yellow car pulled up and stopped in front of the house. “Mama’s home,” he murmured, kissing the top of the baby’s head.
His eyes followed Emma as she let herself through the front gate and trotted up the walk. Her long hair hung loose, cascading over the shoulders of the red plaid wool coat she wore. Her leather jackets were buried in the hall closet (I can’t even zip this one up, she’d moaned of her favorite jacket part of the way through her pregnancy, and he hadn’t seen it since). As the door opened, he turned to greet his wife.
It’s been years, and so much has happened between then and now but Emma still remembers it so vividly in her mind – the last time she’d seen Killian cry. They had been standing in the deepest part of the Underworld then, in a cavern full of shadows and pale red light and shattered hope. Their last-ditch effort to save him had failed; the tree that bore ambrosia had been cut, and any chance that Killian had had of leaving with her had disintegrated into dust, just like the dried, dead food of the Gods she had held in the palm of her hand.
The only thing they could do, was say goodbye, and ask one last promise of each other: to let the other go and move on. She can still recall those very last moments – his whispered ‘I love you’ and her answering ‘I love you, too’ followed by the fierce press of his mouth against hers.
The way his hand had tangled in her hair a final time as he’d held her close.
The desperate grasping of his fingers before he’d slipped out of reach and grief had pooled heavily in the pit of her stomach.
The lone tear she’d watched trail down his cheek while the elevator had taken her up and away forever.
It was an image that haunted her from the moment he disappeared from sight, that made her heart ache until he was back in her arms, by the grace of Zeus, with his laughter echoing in her ears as she’d clung to him in frenzied relief and had attempted to pepper every inch of his face with kisses. She hadn’t realized it was something that had stayed with her until she had this image in front of her to replace it with – a mile-wide grin splitting his face as he sits on the edge of the side of the hospital bed, facing her, his eyes full of awe and so much love as he stares at a tiny, dark-haired baby tucked safely in the crook of his elbow, with twin tracks of moisture on his face.
Words could never adequately describe her exhaustion after labor, but it all melts away when he lifts his head to look at her, stealing her breath because – oh – he’s never quite looked at her that way before. She’s helpless to the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips, helpless to reach out and gently brush his tears away with the tips of her fingers. She cups his cheek and he turns his head to press a kiss to the inside of her palm, then she reaches down to close her hand around the charms on the end of his necklace. It takes nothing more than a light tug to make him lean forward and meet her halfway, his mouth closing over hers in a hard kiss. Emma giggles when he doesn’t pull away immediately, lips pecking at hers over and over and over.
“I love you, Emma,” he tells her quietly, resting his forehead against hers, and it feels like a promise as endless as time.
“I love you, too,” she replies, a contented sigh slipping past her lips. “So much.” And yeah, this is definitely a much better memory to hold in her heart forever.
cshappybeginning 