Let’s Take A Long While To Chat About….

nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable:

canwetalkaboutcaptainswan:

The Ninth Time It Happened!!

Here’s a long one for ya guys. It took me way too long to write but it’s one of my favourite times it happened. If you missed any of the first 8 times Killian woke up in the middle of the night to snuggle his daughter Leia, here are some links for you:

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

As always, tagging just a few of the lovely people who give me the good vibes I need to write each chapter of this fluffball story:

@mayquita @galadriel26 @thegladelf @captainswan710 @naiariddle @flslp87 @vigilantewives @iswearonouat @onceuponiwishmytime @raggedyclaraa @captainswanslay

Enjoy!!!

***********************

The ninth time it happens, everyone gets involved. Leia is 6 months old now, and no one can believe how fast she’s growing.

When Killian wakes, he’s greeted with the sight of flashing zeroes on his digital alarm clock. He rubs at his eyes, reasoning that the power must’ve flickered. He then notices that another consequence of the power flicker is that the baby monitor isn’t on. He sits up quickly, panicked at how long it’s been off for. For the past day and a half Leia’s been quite unhappy, tummy aching from what Emma called “gas pains.” He hates to think that she may be crying, unbeknownst to he and Emma, thanks to the power flicker. He throws off the covers, so anxious to check on her that he doesn’t pay any mind to Emma, who is laying on her stomach, having migrated toward the middle of the bed, closer to him.

As he makes his way down the hall, he’s comforted that all seems quiet. He’s close enough now that if Leia was crying, he would be able to hear. Regardless, he continues down the path to her room, intent on checking on her, just in case.

When he enters her room, he doesn’t even make it to the crib before his heart stops. It’s quiet. It’s too quiet.

He rushes to Leia’s bed, and his worst fear is confirmed: the crib is empty. EMPTY.

Before he can help it, tears spring to his eyes and he’s crying. He spins around, looking for signs of forced entry, and he finds none. That can only mean one thing: magic. There were no demons they knew of currently waging war on them. Who would take his daughter? Where was she?! He needed to find her. NOW.

He sucks in a deep breath, preparing to scream Emma’s name at the top of his lungs. He’s sweating profusely, and his legs feel weak. His lungs are filled to capacity, but just as he’s about to shriek, he hears the microwave downstairs turn on.

Powered by sheer adrenaline, Killian flies down the stairs, fully intent on strangling whichever villain is microwaving his child.

When he gets to the kitchen he’s headed for the knife block when the sight before him makes him stop in his tracks.

Henry is standing in front of the microwave in his pyjamas, bundle of tiny girl tucked safely in the crook of his right arm.

Killian exhales powerfully in relief, swiping his hand across his forehead. The exhale is so audible that it earns him both his children’s attention. Henry’s brow furrows in confusion at his relieved face and laboured breathing, and Leia’s eyes light up, her little arms wiggling in her father’s direction.

“What’s up with you?” Henry asks incredulously, probably wondering if Killian has descended into a psychosis.

“Sorry lad,” Killian huffs out, shaking his head at himself, “It’s just, when I found the little princess’s bed empty…it gave me a fright.”

Understanding finally colours Henry’s features. “Oh, sorry,” he apologizes, holding Leia out toward Killian.

Killian reaches for her gratefully, holding her tiny body against his chest with his stumped arm and cradling her soft little head in his hand. He inhales her familiar scent, serving to help his heart rate descend back to normal levels.

“Hello my sweet duckling,” he says animatedly, looking down at her face. “Are you alright? Is your big brother looking after you? Hmmm? You’re so lucky, my precious little love.”

The microwave beeps, and Henry takes out the tummy pad he heated for Leia. It’s a little too warm, so he passes it back and forth between his palms to cool it. “I heard her crying,” Henry explains. “After about 10 minutes I realized what must’ve happened with the power. So I went and got her, and tried just rocking her, but she still seemed not comfy. So we came down here.”

Killian is frowning down at his little love, upset that she’d been crying without his knowledge. “I’m so sorry, Leia,” he coos at her, before turning to Henry. “Thank you so much, Henry. I’m sorry she woke you. Would you like me to take that so you can get back to sleep? I know you’ve school tomorrow and wouldn’t want you to be unrested.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Henry insists, holding out his arms, “I wanna be her knight in shining armour for once. I’ll just take a nap in Grandma’s class at lunch.”

Killian smiles, unable to argue. The list of people he trusts to care for Leia is short, but Henry is certainly on it. He hands her back to him, and they head to the couch together, sitting at opposite ends. Killian watches Henry get Leia situated with the warm belly pad, satisfied at the way she slumps in his arms, clearly relaxed. Henry gives her his fingers to play with.

They sit in comfortable silence for a bit, both just watching Leia. She seems to be quite awake, staring up at Henry’s face, sticking her tongue out. A new, endearing habit of hers. Killian can’t seem to stop watching her.

After a few minutes, Henry breaks the silence. “So…” he begins, and Killian shifts his attention toward him. “Violet’s birthday is coming up.”

Killian can’t help but waggle his eyebrows, as he always does whenever Henry brings up his fair maiden. “Is that right?” Killian says. “And what might you have planned, my lad?”

“Well…that’s kind of why I’m bringing it up,” Henry mumbles, and Killian nods in understanding. “I was hoping you could give me some advice. You’re just so good at charming mom, and I thought…”

Killian smiles proudly at this grand compliment. “Say no more,” he says warmly. “I’d love to help.”

***

As the boys talk strategy downstairs, Emma tosses and turns in her bed, sweat beading on her forehead as a nightmare wracks her soul.

It’s eerily quiet, except for the crying. She darts her head around, trying to find the source of the strangled noise. She feels the panic overtaking her. Is it Leia? It can’t be. The crying is too loud and pained and guttural to be coming from her tiny daughter. The hallways she creeps down are pitch dark, a consequence of the lack of doors or windows. Periodically the loud crying turns to coughing and gagging, before switching straight back to overwhelming sobs.

“Where are you?” Emma yells, her voice dry and desperate as she tries her best to locate the owner of the cries. “I want to help you, but I just can’t find you!”

The crying turns to coughing again, and she hears the distinct sound of someone vomiting. It’s louder than the rest of the sounds she’s heard, which means she must be close. She rounds three more corners, and finally, she sighs in relief when she finds herself at the entrance of a dimly lit room, wherein a tiny little girl sits on the floor, clearly in agony.

Emma rushes in, quickly kneeling next to the child, who appears to be about 5. She’s got defined cheekbones and blonde hair, and tears are flooding her bright green eyes. It can’t be Leia, but the way Emma’s heart clenches makes her feel like it could be. Or, if not Leia, perhaps a future child of her and Killian’s? She feels a strong connection to this poor little soul, who is sobbing and coughing and is clearly ill. Vomit coats the front of her ripped plaid shirt and her whole face is red, as though she’s running a fever. Emma has an overwhelming desire to help this little girl, and she knows that if Killian were here, so would he.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” she asks, in a tone usually reserved only for Leia. The little girl looks up toward her, but her little green-eyed stare seems to go through her. She doesn’t answer.

“I’m sorry you’re so sick, honey. I’m going to clean you up and take care of you, okay? Here, come here,” she says softly, extending her arms.

What shocks her is instead of coming to coil around the child, Emma’s outstretched arms hit an invisible barrier, her palms coming in contact with a cold panel of glass. The little girl starts to throw up again, and Emma bangs on the glass, desperate to rid of it. The little girl’s coughing doubles in volume, and suddenly Emma realizes that she herself is coughing also. With a start she realizes that her own clothes are covered in vomit, and that her palms against the glass — no, the mirror — are too small to be her own…aren’t they?

Emma wakes up then, gasping and sweating, sitting up in bed. The strong emotions she’d felt during the nightmare are still there, and she feels hot tears slip down her cheeks. She spies the flashing clock and whimpers, groping desperately toward where Killian should be. She feels more tears well in her eyes when she realizes that his side of the bed is empty. Again.

***

“I could help you,” Killian muses, and Henry quirks an eyebrow. “Use my hook to help you carve something. Ladies love that sort of—“

Suddenly, Emma’s hurried footsteps fall into earshot, and both boys turn their heads toward the stairs. She’s moving so fast that all they see of her descent is a brief flash of golden blur. Killian stands instinctively, grateful that Henry has Leia at the moment and his hands are therefore free. He rounds the couch with barely enough time left to open his arms before Emma practically crashes into him, her own arms wrapping tightly around his torso.

Killian is more than alarmed as he grabs hold of her, keeping her steady. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs worriedly, reciprocating the tightness of the hold she has on him, “Emma, darling, what’s happened?” He feels her shake against him, letting out a soft hiccuping noise. “Emma, are you crying? Are you alright? Come here, love.”

Killian walks backwards into the kitchen, dragging her along with him. He’s nearly paralyzed with worry, but he fights against it. He pulls back from Emma and tries to set her down on a kitchen chair so he can look her over for injuries, but she shakes her head wildly, clinging to him tighter. “I just need you to hold me for a minute,” she begs, her voice cracking. “Hold me, Killian. Please. I just need you.”

Killian’s mind is racing, but he obliges her instantly. “Okay. Okay, sweetheart. I can do that,” he soothes her, leaning down to scoop her properly into his arms. Keeping a tight hold on her, he gently rests her on top of the kitchen table, which aligns her torso with his own perfectly. She wraps her legs around his waist, coiling her arms around his neck. “I’m right here, Emma. Just try to calm down, love. I’m holding you, it’s alright. I’m right here.”

Emma nuzzles her face against his cheek, pressing her body into his, and one of her hands is clutching his hair so tightly he fears she’ll yank most of it out. He grasps her firmly with both arms, making sure she can tell he’s got her. He looks over Emma’s shoulder and exchanges a worried glance with Henry, who is just as perplexed as he is.

Killian threads his fingers through Emma’s hair, rubbing her head with slow, gentle fingers. He can feel her sweeping her nose back and forth against his stubble, and he’s desperate to get something out of her but at the same time, doesn’t want to push her before she’s ready to talk. From the couch, Leia makes a contented little sound, and hearing it seems to calm Emma down a little.

After a few more minutes of silence, Emma takes a deep breath, and utters words that make everyone even more confused.

“I’m just so happy,” she puffs out against his neck, and Killian’s brow furrows twice as deeply as it already has.

“….happy?” he asks incredulously, nudging her with his cheek so she looks up into his eyes. “Then why on earth are you crying, darling?”

She looks up at him sadly. “Because I went my whole life without a family. I just had this awful dream about this tiny little girl, and she was all alone and she was crying and throwing up and I just wanted to hold her and give her a warm bath, but there was a wall between us…and then I figured out it that it wasn’t a wall, it was a mirror. It was me. Not one person ever cared if I was sick. I remember one time, I got locked in the bathroom with puke all over my clothes and the only thing I could think to do was take them off and lie down on the freezing cold tile floor. I was five.”

Killian is listening intently, completely horrified by this tale. He shakes his head in horror, stroking her wet cheek gently with his knuckles. He tries to prevent his mind from wandering, but he can’t; and suddenly all he can see in his mind is a five-year-old Leia, having to try and cope with something like that all by herself…it nearly knocks the wind out of him.

“Oh, Emma,” he whispers, tightening his hold, hugging her against his chest. “I can’t even imagine, darling. I’m so, truly sorry. It horrifies me every day that there was once a time you felt you weren’t loved.”

She’s still staring up at him. “I know,” she agrees, but he can tell she’s gaining some composure, her tone strengthening. "But now I do have a family. And even more importantly, Leia has one. She’ll never feel unwanted or alone like we did. She has a mother and a father and an amazing big brother who all make sure she knows how loved she is. She will never, ever get locked in a bathroom with puke all over her clothes. And that just makes me so, so happy.”

Killian smiles at her, despite the large lump present in his throat. He attempts to speak around it, his fingers scratching lightly at her back. “She’s a very lucky little lass,” he agrees, tilting his chin toward her and Henry. “And she’s got a big brother with better ears than we have.”

Emma sniffles, straightening from where she’s slumped against Killian’s chest so that she can turn and look at her kids. Henry is staring down lovingly at Leia, rubbing his hand over the heating pad against her tummy in soothing circles. He’s doing a great job pretending he wasn’t just privy to his mother’s huge emotional outburst. “What happened?” she asks, suddenly curious as to how all three of them ended up down here.

“The power must’ve flickered because the monitor wasn’t on. I went to check on Leia, and when she wasn’t there, I—“

Emma cuts off his story with an unexpected laugh. “—came barrelling down the stairs and almost skewered Henry with your hook?” she jokes, knowing him too well.

“Basically!” Henry shouts from the living room, and Killian huffs, embarrassed.

“Actually, my hook was on the nightstand,” Killian mumbles, and Emma bites her lip with a smile at his serious tone. “I was just…. going to grab a knife.”

The three of them all laugh then, and Leia makes happy noises along with them. Emma’s glad to have her terrible nightmares chased away by her favourite people. She turns back to Killian, kissing him chastely. “I love you,” she whispers, giving him a tight hug before hopping down from the table and heading toward the couch. Killian follows her.

Leia waves at Emma happily when she notices her approach. Emma takes a deep breath, readying her animated voice. “What are you doing up, you stinky little duckling? Is Henry waiting on you? How come you so wide awake??? Oh, look at those pretty green eyes of yours.”

Leia giggles and Emma reaches to take her from Henry. Emma goes right for the baby’s cheeks, kissing them repeatedly. “Ohh, I love this munchkin!” Emma exclaims, tickling Leia’s neck with her lips. Leia laughs so hard she can barely get her breath, and when she sees Killian behind Emma, she whines and her arms go flailing toward him.

Emma keeps up her animated baby voice, despite being nuzzled against the baby’s neck. “Oh, do you want Daddy? Of course you want Daddy. You always want your daddy. Why do you always steal Daddy from me at night, Leia? Hmmm?? Okay, okay.”

Emma kisses her once more before she surrenders the biggest daddy’s girl in the world to Killian, who is still chuckling. Emma watches Leia nestle herself comfortably in what used to be her spot against his neck. She just shakes her head, smiling as she flops down on the couch next to Henry. They share a quiet look for a moment, an unspoken apology from Emma and an unspoken expression of love and support from Henry. She can’t resist the urge to hug her teenage son, so she pulls him against her side, even though he’s basically as big as she is. Killian sits down on Emma’s other side, Leia tucked snugly under his chin. Of course, she’s asleep already. It’s no secret to any of them that Leia feels safest in Killian’s arms.

Still with Henry pulled against her, Emma leans toward Killian, resting her cheek on his shoulder so that her mouth is level with Leia’s ear. “See, Princess Leia?” Emma whispers, well aware that her words won’t slip past Killian and Henry. “This is what it’s like to belong somewhere. Isn’t it so nice? This is your home, little love. This is your family.”

And that was the ninth time.

I’m going to have to go back and read all of these because this was so adorable, I’m just sitting here and grinning like a moron. Awww!

You should write Killian reacting to his daughter’s first date!

justanotherwannabeclassic:

Thanks for the prompt, Nonnie! I hope you like it!

Killian struggles with his daughter attending her first dance. Good think Henry and David are there to help. Poor Philip never stood a chance. Happy helpings of Captain Swan, Captain Charming, and Captain Cobra.

[AO3]

Dancing Princesses

Over the years, Killian had come to better understand David Nolan. It was a process, of course, being that the pirate and the prince had a number of preconceived misconceptions about one another, compounded with the fact that Killian very much was trying to court David’s daughter. Killian did attempt to empathize with David’s feelings during the more tumultuous points their relationship, even if he tended to enjoy doing and saying whatever things possible to get a rise out of the so-called Prince Charming.

It wasn’t until the nurse had placed his newborn daughter into his arms that he really understood David, and the past few years of his fatherly protectiveness truly made sense. Fourteen years after that moment, well, no one could blame him for taking inspiration from David when a young lad came to pick up his daughter for her first dance.

Killian wasn’t exactly happy with this development. As far as he was concerned, his daughter was still the little girl that wanted nothing more than to play pirates and princess and for him to read her stories before bed, not the teenager who wished to dance with boys. It was his prerogative to think that way. After all, he was sure that David thought of Emma as the infant he placed in the wardrobe. Unfortunately, Emma didn’t feel the same.

“What do we even know about this boy?” Killian groused after their daughter announced that this boy had asked her to prom, and that she had said ‘yes’. “How do we know he isn’t some cad or a villain in disguise?”

Seguir leyendo

Can We Get Out A Huge Box of Tissues And Talk About…

canwetalkaboutcaptainswan:

The Sixth Time It Happened?

GUYS. I don’t know why my brain decided to come up with something so sad. I will ensure that the seventh time is the fluffiest fluff ball to ever fluff, I promise. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this heartbreaking slice of pain pie.

If you missed the first 5 times Killian snuck into his daughter’s room in the middle of the night, here are some links for you:
I. II. III. IV. V.

@mayquita @galadriel26 @thegladelf @captainswan710 @naiariddle @chloefarthing3 @vigilantewives @iswearonouat @onceuponiwishmytime

**************

The sixth time it happens, Emma completely understands. She wakes that night, too, and instantly she feels the weight of the day’s tragedy against her chest. It doesn’t surprise her at all that Killian isn’t in bed next to her. Even though he was strong all day long, she could tell that the horrible events of the day took a deep toll on him. Tinkerbell is, after all, one of his best friends. Sometimes when Emma wakes up alone, she worries about where he is. But tonight, she only worries about how he must be feeling.

She takes a deep breath and gets out of bed, pulling on one of Killian’s t-shirts. They’d opted for silent, skin-to-skin cuddles to lull them both to sleep, but Emma had guessed that even so, it would be one of those nights that Killian was drawn down the hallway. She creeps that way now, and when she gets to the door, it’s shut. She braces her ear against it, and her heart shatters in her chest for the umpteenth time that day. She can’t hear Killian speaking. Instead, she can hear him weeping softly, his sniffles quiet but definitely real.

She pushes open the door slowly, expecting to see Killian’s tears collecting atop Leia’s head. However, she’s surprised to find that he isn’t holding the baby; instead, he’s sitting on the floor next to her crib, his forehead leaning against the slats. He’s shoved his hand between two of them, and Emma can just make out Leia’s tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb.

Instinctively, Emma crouches to the floor, not wanting to startle him or for him to think she’s looking down at him in any way. Now at his level, she crawls over to him, fighting against the tears that are gathering in the corners of her eyes. She can’t bear the thought of him in pain. She knows he knows she’s there, but he hasn’t acknowledged her yet, his eyes locked on Leia. Tentatively, she raises a hand, fluttering it behind him before deciding it best to simply lay it against his shoulder. Upon feeling her gentle touch he turns to look at her, and the tear-filled, heartbroken expression on his face just guts her.

Not even a second passes before she’s gathering him into her arms, cradling his head against her shoulder. He’s desperate for her comfort and he lets Leia’s fingers go so he can wrap his arms around her, fresh tears escaping. “I know,” Emma tells him with a wobbly voice, thick with her own tears. She rubs his back in soothing circles. “I know, Killian. You were so strong today, sweetheart. But you don’t have to be strong anymore, not with me. You can break down and you can cry. I have you. I’m here.”

He shakes in her arms and she just holds him tight, rocking them gently back and forth. After a few moments he takes a deep, shaky breath, and tries to speak. “I just,” he stammers, not knowing how to even communicate his grief, “I just can’t even fathom what they—” he pauses, “what she—” another pause, “or if…Gods, Emma, if it had been—”

“Shh,” she hushes him when he can’t continue, even though she knows what he’d been about to say. “Don’t do that to yourself, Killian,” she begs him. “Your baby is right there. Do you see her? She’s right there, Killian. She’s okay. I promise you. She’s okay.”

Tinkerbell and Will Scarlett had fallen in love. It had been unexpected and lightning fast, but they loved each other as if they’d been doing so for years and years. Tinkerbell had told Killian that the speed of it had scared her, but he’d assured her that when it came to epic love, things like time and speed were often transcended. It wasn’t long before they were married, and 6 months into Emma’s pregnancy, Tinkerbell announced that her and Will were expecting a child of their own. Tink and Hook spent many a night at Granny’s together, sharing both their excitement and their fears. Killian had even been with her when she’d felt the baby kick for the first time, and they laughed about it together. Their friendship was the only positive thing to arise from their time spent with Pan, and they were happy that their kids would get grow up as friends, without having to suffer any turmoil like they did.

But three days prior, all of their dreams for that were shattered. Tink went into labour, not unlike Emma had. The Swan-Jones family was enjoying a beautiful morning out on the waves when Will called Killian from the hospital to let him know that the baby was coming. Killian asked Emma if she’d mind if they went back to port earlier than they’d planned, and of course she’d enthusiastically agreed. Killian made Emma lunch and helped put Leia down for a nap before kissing her goodbye and heading for the hospital. To his surprise, Tink’s labour had been lightning fast, and when he arrived the baby had already been born. And then, to his utmost horror, he discovered the terrible news: Tink’s baby had been born still. Abigail Scarlett was born without breath, and despite the doctors’ valiant efforts, the precious baby girl was lost forever. Killian was fairly certain that the sound of Tinkerbell’s earth-shattering sobs would remain with him for the rest of his life. The following few days had been a complete haze of sadness and grief for the entire town, as arrangements were made for the funeral that took place today. Throughout all of it, Killian had remained a rock; while the storm of mourning raged on around him, he tried his damnedest to hold it together, strictly for Tinkerbell and Will’s sake. But now that he’s home, the waves of sadness and horror and grief and pain that he’d shoved down bubble to the surface and threaten to do him in. Emma is his ship, but Leia is his anchor, and he knows that without her, he’d surely float away.

Killian bites his lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to keep his sobs at a volume that won’t disturb his daughter’s slumber. He tries to focus on Emma’s voice, and on the warmth of her body around him. Even though she’s smaller than he, she’s somehow managed to hold him in her lap, and he’s so grateful that he has someone like her to be his beacon in the darkest of hours.

Emma is still on the subject of Leia, assuring him that their tiny, perfect little thing is right there next to them. “And there’s nothing else we can do, but just hold her,” Emma breathes against his forehead, tracing her fingertips up and down his spine, “Hold her and love her and be so, so thankful for her. Why weren’t you holding her, Killian?” she asks gently, because she is still curious as to why he’d just been sitting, looking in at her. “Hold her, sweetheart. She’ll help you heal better than I can.”

Killian takes another deep breath. “I wanted to let her sleep,” he whispers, reaching his hand back through the slats, “You always tell me about how important it is to let her sleep in her crib, and from now on, I just want to be sure that I always—”

Emma’s expression sinks into one of understanding and sadness as she absorbs his words of worry. She shakes her head vehemently and leans back a little, and after a flourish of her hand their baby is sandwiched between them. Killian sits up immediately and takes Leia in his arms, hugging her against his heart, his palm flat on her backside. He rubs his nose against her hair and hiccups back a sob, making the mistake of wondering how he would even begin to survive without his precious little love. He can’t fathom what Tink and Will are experiencing, but his heart breaks because he knows that they are holding each other somewhere, with no baby nestled in between them.

“I want her to know about her,” he murmurs, and Emma tilts her head, still stroking his back.

“Hmm?” she asks, unsure of what he means.

“Leia and Abigail were meant to be friends,” he explains, and then Emma gets it. “We have to make sure that Leia knows that there’s an angel watching over her.”

Tears slip from Emma’s eyes as she reaches around to stroke her daughter’s cheek. “We’ll make sure,” she promises him. “She’ll know.”

Killian nods, and he’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “I just…I just love her so much,” he whispers, nuzzling his cheek against Leia’s velvety dark hair.

“I know.”

“I need her. Like air to breathe.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

“It scares me,” he says it so quietly that she almost can’t hear.

“It scares me too,” she whispers back.

“She’s so tiny. So fragile.”

“But she’s strong,” Emma tells him, putting her hand over Killian’s, which is still clinging to Leia’s back. “She’s so, so strong. Like her Dad.”

He shakes his head. “Like her Mum,” he argues.

“And her Dad,” she argues back, and that, he’ll accept.

“Can we keep her with us?” Killian begs quietly, “Just for tonight? I can’t bear leaving her,” he tells Emma.

Emma nods her head immediately. “Of course,” she assures him, rubbing his knuckles, “I don’t wanna leave her either.”

With another wave of Emma’s hand, Killian feels the wind blowing against his face. She’s transported them to the porch swing outside, and with a snap of her fingers the quilt from their bed is wrapped tightly around the three of them. Emma nuzzles against Killian’s side, and Killian shifts Leia so that she’s laying safely in the crook of his arm. Keeping his eyes glued to the baby, Killian presses a chaste kiss to Emma’s head before leaning his own head against it. Emma can feel Killian’s body start to relax a little, and for that she is so, so thankful. She knows that he (and herself, too) have only begun to heal, but she also has faith that they can get through this. She reaches for one of Leia’s little hands, stroking the soft skin of their baby girl’s tiny fingers. Emma and Killian both sit quietly, watching Leia breathe, trying to forget the pain of the day and just be here, in this moment. The wind howls in the night, strong and full, but neither of them fear they’ll float away…for their little anchor is safely nestled between them, tethering their hearts securely to home.

And that was the sixth time.

On This Lovely Sunday Night, Can We Kick Up Our Feet and Talk About…

canwetalkaboutcaptainswan:

The Fifth Time It Happened?

Hey! This is part 5/? of the story of how Captain Killian-can’t-get-enough-of-his-daughter Jones can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night because he’s just too stinkin in love with his little girl. Leia is still 3 months old. Warning: this part is nothing but hilariousness. 😉

If you missed the other 4 times it happened:

I.
II.
III.
IV.

Thank you to @thegladelf @raggedyclaraa @vigilantewives @naiariddle @iswearonouat @that-one–book-nerd @mayquita @onceuponiwishmytime and all others who left kind words!

Enjoy way-too-ambitious Killian, shipmates 😉

***********

The fifth time it happens, Emma beats Killian to the punch. This time, it’s Killian who rolls over to find the other half of the bed vacant. He sits up, rubbing his eyes before swinging his legs to the floor. He assumes Emma is feeding Leia and just didn’t wake him up, but when he nears Leia’s room he finds that he can hear Emma talking. He pauses for a second, eavesdropping.

“How come you’re not sleepy, little love? Is the world just too exciting for you to miss out? Or do you just like hanging out with Mumma? Mumma loves you so much, sweet girl. Yes, Mumma does.”

Killian smiles to himself, and eagerly rounds the corner into the room, eyes easily finding the rocking chair. What surprises him, is that he finds it empty. At first he is terribly confused, until his gaze lands on Leia’s crib, and he discovers that tonight it has two occupants.

The room is fairly dark, but Killian can vaguely make out Emma’s small frame, curled up next to Leia. She’s using one arm as a pillow and the other is wrapped around Leia, and he watches for a second as her fingers rub circles over the baby’s tummy. He stands in the doorway for a beat longer watching his two loves before quietly padding over to the crib himself.

“What’s going on in here?” he asks playfully, leaning against the edge of the crib and peering down into it. Emma turns her head, looking up at him with one of her signature tight-lipped smiles. “Is Mummy snuggling with you, little lass? Oh my goodness. You’re such a lucky girl, princess Leia.”

Emma does a theatrical gasp, nudging Leia so that she turns her head toward Killian. “Uh-oh. Who’s that, Leiabear? I think your Daddy is spying on us, duckling.”

Both parents chuckle as Leia’s arms and legs start flailing, a huge smile spreading across her face when she realizes her father has arrived. Emma shakes her head. Such a daddy’s girl. Killian mirrors her smile and lowers his hand to stroke her cheek with his knuckle. Leia immediately grabs hold of his fingers, her bright green eyes staring up at him in happy wonderment. It melts him.

“Did she nurse, love? Was everything alright?” he asks Emma, who has begun to run her fingers over Leia’s velvety dark hair.

“Mhm. She finished about 10 minutes ago. And now clearly has no interest in sleeping.”

“Why didn’t you wake me, darling?” he asks curiously, flipping his gaze from Leia to Emma. He can’t get enough of how beautiful she looks, sleepy and happy and motherly and tender. Her golden hair is sprawled over her arm, and it seems to span the whole length of the crib. Her cheeks are flushed a rosy pink and her eyes sparkle, just like Leia’s.

“Because you were up with her all night last night, babe,” she reminds him, recalling with pleasure how he’d catered to all of Leia’s needs so that she could get a decent night’s sleep. “You’re not a machine, Killian. You need sleep, too.”

He absorbs her words, appreciating them. Despite the fact that his life is nothing short of perfect, it can’t be denied that he is indeed in need of sleep. “Aye. I just bristle at the thought of missing out on these precious little moments. There’s nothing in the world I enjoy more than this,” he explains, gesturing toward the two of them.

Emma smiles, secretly amused by the tiny hint of jealously in his tone. “Yeah, well. Sometimes we just need some time for girl talk, don’t we Leia?”

Leia gurgles, and they both laugh. The baby’s eyes are still absolutely stuck on Killian, and Emma can’t help but notice.

“Look at her looking at you,” she says, propping herself up on her elbow, “You love that Daddy, don’t you, duckling? Yes, Mumma knows you do. But don’t you worry. He loves you right back.”

“That’s quite right, I do,” he coos, running his thumb over his daughter’s petite little lips, “Can I hold you, for a moment? Or does mean Mummy say no?”

Emma sighs, rolling her eyes. “Mean Mummy says it’s okay,” she says, undraping her arm from over Leia. “You’re both lucky that you’re cute.”

Killian chuckles with gleeful triumph as he leans down to expertly pick up his little girl. “She thinks we’re cute, little bird!” he tells Leia, hauling her up so that he can give her little kisses all over her face. The baby giggles infectiously, wriggling in her father’s grip. Killian begins to sway with her, looking at her in that special way, as though there isn’t anyone else in the world but her.

Emma takes that as her cue to shut her eyes. She doesn’t let herself fully fall asleep, just lets herself relax against the mattress, floating in that hazy place between consciousness and unconsciousness. After a few minutes though, Killian speaks to her, and man does he yank her back into consciousness.

“So, Emma. Darling. My love. My lovely, stunning wife…Are you ready yet to have another?”

Emma’s eyes fly open and her face contorts into the most incredulous expression. “Are you on crack?”

“I beg your pardon? What the bloody hell is crack?”

“Oh my god, Killian,” Emma has her palm against her face, and she’s on the brink of hysterical laughter. “Leia, tell Daddy he’s gone mad.”

“But the other day you said you wanted more children,” he whines, and Emma groans, throwing her index finger high into the air.

“One. One more. One,” she clarifies, wiggling the finger indignantly. “And I need minimum three years.”

“Three?!”

“Killian, that one just got here! How do you already want another one?”

“I just love this one so much,” he argues, kissing Leia’s forehead, “I can’t wait to love another. And besides, Swan. It’s devilishly cute, this little thing that we made.”

She can’t exactly disagree. “Yes, but my stomach is still flubbery and wrinkly and gross from baking that cute little thing for you,” she stresses. “I got a nice 15 year break between the last two. The oven is not ready for round three.”

Killian peers down at her, his face suddenly so serious. “Your stomach is not flubbery,” he insists, holding Leia with his left arm so that he can reach down with his right to stroke Emma’s stomach, “It’s wonderful. You are a marvel, Mummy. You’re stunning. You’ve the second most beautiful belly in all the realms.”

Emma swats his hand away, but threads her fingers through his. She can’t contain her laughter. “Man, Leia. Thanks to you, I always land in second place these days.”

Killian laughs along with her, before his serious gaze returns and he squeezes her hand. “But in all seriousness, my love,” he says, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb, “I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of how expertly you carried her for us. You were amazing. I only wish I could’ve done more to help you, or done more to ease your pain there at the end,” he tells her sincerely, shuddering from the memory of Emma’s bloodcurdling screams of pain as she valiantly brought Leia into the world.

Emma smiles sheepishly, tilting her head up at him. Her pirate. Always so sweet.

“You did everything you possibly could’ve,” she assures him. “I definitely couldn’t’ve done it without you beside me. Thanks for sticking around.”

His eyes widen a little. “You never honestly thought I might leave you, did you?”

“No no no,” she clarifies, and he exhales in relief. “Still. Just because I knew you wouldn’t leave doesn’t mean I can’t thank you for staying.”

He beams at her, tightening his hold on their daughter before leaning toward her. She scrambles onto her knees so she can easily reach his approaching lips. She nestles her fingers in his hair as they kiss, an age-old habit of hers. He moves his hand to cup her cheek, using one finger to tickle her earlobe.

“I’ll tell you what,” she whispers against his lips as they come up for air, “If you can find it in your heart to put your littlest love back in here, maybe we can go back to bed, and practice making duckling number two.”

Killian pulls back further from her, his gaze suddenly lustful and teasing as he turns to the side so Emma can see where Leia is leaning against his shoulder.

Emma’s expression turns to surprise when she sees Leia’s face, rolling her eyes as Killian gloats. “Well, since duckling number one has, as usual, fallen right to sleep in her Daddy’s arms, I see no reason not to let her snooze while we….practice.”

Emma sticks her tongue out at him as she climbs out of the crib. “Well then, put down your little daddy’s girl,” she says, and he can sense the tiniest hint of annoyance in her tone. (She’s just jealous because he’s always the one who gets Leia to sleep effortlessly.) “After all, practice makes perfect.”

They each kiss one of Leia’s cheeks before Killian sets her down. “You aren’t wrong, Swan,” he says quietly, picking her up bridal style before pausing so they can stare into the crib one final time. “But I do believe we already made perfect.”

And that was the fifth time.

Can We Have A Fabulous Time and Talk About…

canwetalkaboutcaptainswan:

The Fourth Time It Happened?

Hey, my loves! This is part 4/? of the story of how Captain Killian-can’t-get-enough-of-his-daughter Jones can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night because he’s just too stinkin in love with his little girl. Leia is 3 months old in this part. This segment contains a bit of angst (well, if you consider cranky Emma angsty, anyway) but of course it ends in fluff.

Also, I want to point out that there is a part of this segment that ties into this other fic that I wrote a while ago so I highly suggest reading it before reading this, just for a maximum-fluffy-feels-experience 😉

And, if you’re just arriving, here’s links to the first 3 parts of this story.

I. II. III.

And once again, I’ll tag some people who left kind words. You are all the best!

@naiariddle @raggedyclaraa @vigilantewives @thegladelf @sunshine-and-the-catsuit @flslp87

***************

The fourth time it happens, Emma gets pretty pissed off, actually. She wakes up and is nothing but cold. Sure, she’s got blankets, but the pair of arms that are usually providing her with her preferred type of warmth are absent. It was a long, annoying day at the station and the past two nights Leia hasn’t slept well, which means neither has she. For once, the stupid pirate has figured out how to turn the monitor off, so she can’t hear what he’s up to down the hall. But she damn well knows that’s where he is.

Groaning, her head pounding with fatigue, she whips off the covers and stomps to her 3 month old’s room. When she’s three quarters of the way there, she hears Killian singing Leia’s song to her softly. Normally, this would make her heart melt, but not tonight. Tonight she just gets angrier and wonders why on earth he thinks singing to a sleeping child at 3am is appropriate.

He’s standing next to Leia’s crib, the baby tucked snugly into the crook of his arm, and he’s swaying back and forth, dancing to his own music. She interrupts him mid-lyric.

“Why the hell must you keep doing this?” she demands, her arms crossed and her eyes narrow.

“Swan,” he turns, startled a little by her. “Did I leave the monitor on again? I didn’t mean to wake you, lo—“

“Nope. You shut it off. I just woke up. Because I was cold. Because I was in bed. All alone.”

His expression immediately turns to one of guilt. “Emma, I’m so —“

“You can’t keep doing this, Killian. I’ve told you a hundred times, you have to let her sleep in her crib. She will grow up to be a terror if all you ever do is pick her up all the time!”

She pretty much yells it, and he looks like a kicked puppy. His eyes get downcast and his bottom lip sticks out involuntarily. She mildly regrets the tone of voice she used, but it’s the middle of the night and she’s super cranky so she continues her rant.

“And I don’t like it when I wake up alone. I hate it. It’s cold and it makes me worry. Then it just makes me angry. And it leads to loss of my precious sleep which is not good.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

His apology is sincere, but she’s still fuming. “Give her to me.”

He tilts his head, his brow furrowing. “Swan, I’ll just—“

She holds out her arms expectantly, basically snarling. “Give her to me, Killian.”

Killian surrenders Leia to Emma, who cradles her against her shoulder, patting her back. “So let me ask you again. Why do you keep doing this?” she asks again, very loudly.

“Emma, you’ll wake her—“

“I am waiting for an answer—“

“Because I worry!” he bellows, and suddenly he’s being loud, too. This time she’s the one who startles, and she turns to look at him full on for the first time. There’s something about his expression that makes her hard edges soften a little.

“Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night, and sometimes all I can think about is that even after everything, there’s still a possibility that I could lose this.” His voice is quivering, and it’s suddenly severely affecting Emma’s stomach. “I could lose this life that we have, the life I never thought would happen for me. I was a ruthless, terrible pirate for hundreds of years. I don’t deserve this. Any of it. Not this house, not this night. I don’t deserve you, and especially not Leia.”

Each word he says is like a lash to her skin. “Killian,” Emma says, her tone completely different now. It’s quieter and soft, almost pleading. She can tell that he’s in pain and it guts her like a knife twisting its way into her stomach.

“I wake up, and I can feel you breathing in my arms,” he says quietly, and Emma feels her heart lurching all over the place. “And that makes me feel halfway better. But I can’t be sure that my happy ending is still intact until I’ve come in here and felt that little girl breathe.”

Emma stares at him, a pained expression on her face. God, how on earth could she be such an asshole? She has no idea what to do now; no idea what words or actions to use to make amends for her foolish anger or soothe these unsettling feelings he’s been dealing with. Neither of them moves or speaks for a few seconds, and Killian returns his gaze to the floor.

Finally, Emma tries to fix it.

She walks over to him slowly, but he doesn’t turn to look at her. She bites her lip, remorse overwhelming her. “Hey,” she whispers, and when he finally looks up, he takes in her heartbreakingly apologetic face. She’s holding Leia out toward him, and he takes her reflexively, nestling her back in the crook of his right arm.

Emma tentatively raises her hand, tucking a finger underneath his chin and using it to tilt his head. “Look at me for a second,” she whispers, practically begging him. He obeys, and the tears in the corner of his eyes mirror her own. “You do deserve her, okay? There is no one more deserving of being this little girl’s father than you. She needs you. Not just anyone. You. She needs you and she loves you more than anything else. I need you to understand that. I need you to. Okay?”

He bites his lip, but he nods. She exhales forcefully, and she just can’t resist it any longer. “Come here,” she orders, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. He leans into her willingly, pressing his forehead against her pulse, being mindful that Leia doesn’t get squished in between them. She takes two deep breaths before she speaks again. “Can you feel me breathing?” she whispers.

He nods, she can feel it as his nose nudges her collarbone with each movement of his head. “You’re not going to lose us, Killian,” she says firmly, scratching soothingly at the base of his neck. “We’re right here. I understand why you could worry. It makes sense, and it’s okay. I get it. But we’re right here, sweetheart. Please don’t be scared.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he shifts Leia to one arm and wraps the other one around her, rubbing at the small of her back. She squeezes him tighter. “I’m so sorry, Killian,” she tells him. “I wish that I’d known before how you felt. I just wake up and you’re gone, and it makes me sad, sometimes.”

“I’m sorry too, Emma,” he says immediately, still nuzzling her neck. “I should’ve explained earlier. And I shouldn’t just leave you like that. I don’t mean for you to be cold or alone. I’m sorry, love.”

She chuckles. “It’s okay,” she assures him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head, “I wasn’t that cold. Just super cranky.”

She feels him smile against her skin, and she sniffles. “And I’m sorry, my sweet Princess Leia,” she coos, looking down at her daughter, “Mean Mummy interrupted your song, didn’t I? I’m sorry, little love. Should we ask Daddy to start it over?”

Killian looks up, smiling at Emma for the first time. She smiles back with tight lips, her expression still apologetic. He raises Leia high enough to kiss her forehead, and then holds her toward her mother, who promptly does the same.

“I think we’ll do a little crib-side serenade, if that’s alright with you little love,” he tells Leia, lowering her back into her crib. The baby doesn’t stir, her little eyelids remaining closed, keeping her bright green eyes hidden.

Once his arms are free, Killian opens them for Emma, pulling her flush against his chest for a warm hug. She wraps her arms around his back, letting her hands rest on his shoulder blades. She presses her cheek over his heart and he sways with her, both of their eyes locked on their little princess. “Will you sing with me?” Killian whispers, his lips at her hair. “Do you know all the words?”

“Of course I do, Daddy,” she assures him. (He sings the song several hundreds of times a day, how could she not know the words?)

Chest to chest, cheek to cheek, they start singing in unison, crooning out the melody Killian wrote for Leia when she was a mere peanut in Emma’s belly.

I love you, more than ships love waves,
More than birds love tides,
More than souls that wait,
Love the peace they find,
You’re my very best friend
and soon you’ll be my first mate
I’ll hold you in my arms,
where you’ll always be safe,
You’ll always make me proud,
and you’ll never be alone
because for my whole life
your heart will be my home.

They finish the song, still pressed together, and if one were to look in at them it would be impossible to tell where Killian’s body ends and Emma’s begins. They look at each other, love and fatigue equally heavy in both of their gazes. And simultaneously, they start the song over again. After all, it’s 3 in the morning and their child is sound asleep…it’s obvious that singing to her is more than appropriate.

And that was the fourth time.

Can We Happily Discuss…

canwetalkaboutcaptainswan:

The Third Time It Happened?

Hey, my loves! It’s been too long since I bestowed a Leia fic upon you. This is part 3/? of the story of how Captain Killian-can’t-get-enough-of-his-daughter Jones can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night because he’s just too stinkin in love with his little girl. Leia is 8 weeks old now. This is literally nothing but fluff, AS ALWAYS.

Click here if you missed the first time it happened.
Click here if you missed the second time it happened.

Tagging some people who enjoyed the first parts and left kind words! Here’s some more for you @naiariddle @vigilantewives @flslp87 @thegladelf @sunshine-and-the-catsuit @raggedyclaraa

ENJOY! XXO

*************

The third time it happens is a classic. Leia is 8 weeks old. Emma wakes to the sound of Killian’s voice again, but this time he isn’t showering Leia with loving compliments; this time, he’s telling her important stories.

“And then, your mummy had the audacity to run straight into the barn. Can you believe her, duckling? So of course, Daddy ran straight in after her. Couldn’t let her tumble back in time all by herself, could I?”

Emma bites her lip to keep from laughing aloud. She crawls from her side of the bed to Killian’s, grabbing hold of the baby monitor. (Killian insists it lay upon his nightside table. Which of course, does not surprise Emma in the slightest.)

Before Killian can get too much further in the story, Emma presses the button that makes the little screen pop out, and switches the monitor from audio mode to video mode. (Killian has no idea that video mode exists. She dares not tell him. Emma knows that if he knew about it, he’d never sleep again; he’d literally spend all night staring at the little screen, watching their daughter snooze.)

When the video kicks in she can see Leia and Killian in the rocking chair. This time he’s got his knees up, the baby girl lounging against the tops of her daddy’s thighs in her pink sailboat pyjamas.

“So then, Mummy and Daddy found….well, another daddy in a tavern. Mummy had to distract the other daddy while I went to talk to Grandma, and I was quite sad about it, actually,” he admits, and Emma muffles her maniacal laughter in her pillow.

“But the other daddy fell straight in love with your mummy, I assure you. You’ll soon learn that it doesn’t matter the time or place, little love. Mummy and I are like magnets, always drawn to each other no matter the circumstances. Actually, I think you’re a little magnet yourself. Because we sure are stuck on you.”

He pauses the story, taking a minute to just look at her. She’s still so small, even after 8 weeks. Killian strokes each of her teeny toes before tracing the sailboat patterns on her belly. Each of his movements are so tender and instinctual, and in that moment Emma finds it impossible to believe that he was once a ruthless pirate, a man to be feared. She’d known he was going to be an amazing father, but each and every day he exceeds her wildest expectations. He is always so gentle and quiet with her, always ensuring that she has whatever she needs. Emma thought she knew the depth of Killian’s love before Leia arrived, but she’d been so, so wrong. His love for their daughter is unending and unparalleled. That love is the most precious thing in Emma’s entire world, and she would willingly give up anything if it were ever threatened. Anything.

“And so, we went to the royal ball at King Midas’ castle. Mummy wore the most beautiful red dress in all the realms, and her hair looked like gold spun by the crocodile himself. She was absolutely breathtaking.”

Emma closes her eyes for a while, letting herself enjoy the story. He’d picked a good one. She laughs while Killian explains to Leia how she got her name. “Your brother says the real Princess Leia is a warrior of the galaxy or something as such. But that’s nonsense, little bird. You, of course, are the real princess Leia to me.”

Emma smiles, another memory bubbling to the surface.

“You’re sure that’s what you want to call her?”

“Aye, love. Leia Swan-Jones. As long as you approve, of course.”

“Yeah, I love it. But we really don’t have to hyphenate, Killian. We don’t need to have the Swan in there. Leia Jones is just as nice.”

“Of course we need the Swan in there, love. She’s just as much yours as she is mine. She’s our little duckling, and everything in her life should remind her that she’ll always have the both of us. Everything, including her name.”

“And I ask you yet again, Killian. What if it’s a boy? We do not have a boy name picked out whatsoever.”

“Not to worry, Swan. It’s a girl.”

Emma is whisked back to the current moment when Killian’s storytelling voice drops to a whisper and she finds she has to press her ear right up against the little machine to keep listening.

“And as we danced together for the very first time, I felt something change, little love. Now, this part’s a secret, so we’ll have to keep it right here between you and me, alright?”

Emma’s eyes widen and she presses her ear as close to the monitor as it can get.

“After Mummy did the little walkabout around me and then came back into my arms, there was something different. Something in her eyes. A little more sparkle, a little less of a shield. And that’s when I knew, Leia. In that very moment, Daddy could tell that Mummy loved him just as much as he did her. Now of course, Daddy knew he couldn’t say anything about it, not right then. We were dealing with a crisis. But still, it made Daddy’s heart flutter as fast as yours did when I first heard it.”

Emma feels her heart do all sorts of flips and flops. Of course, she’d come to realize sometime after that night that she’d fallen in love with him during that dance. But the fact that he could tell at the time…well, it was only more proof in the pile of evidence that he knew her much better than she knew herself.

“And speaking of your breathtaking mummy,” he coos, back to speaking a little louder, “I’d best get back to her, little love. She’s just like you, she loves her warm snuggles. She might be getting cold all alone down the hall, hmm? Shall I go and gather her back into my arms before she wakes and catches us?”

Emma watches Killian stand, hugging Leia tightly to his chest before setting her carefully back into her crib. “I love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her cheek softly. “And Mummy does, too. We’ll never leave you, darling. We’ll always be right here.”

After a few more seconds, Emma watches Killian turn to leave the room. Quickly she snaps the screen back into place and puts the monitor back on the bedside table before scrambling back to her side of the bed and doing her best to fake-sleep. She makes sure her breathing is deep and even and shuts her eyes. In a few seconds, she hears Killian open and close their door quietly, before walking over to their bed.

She has to work really hard at her sleeping facade as she feels Killian’s fingers brushing the hair away from her face. And not only just that; a beat later, she feels his lips on her forehead. “I love you, darling,” he whispers, and a giant, giant lump forms in Emma’s throat. What did she do to deserve such a kind, loving man who kisses her and whispers sweet nothings to her even when she’s unconscious?

She feels him climb into bed, and soon after he’s making good on his promise to Leia. His arms snake around her, encouraging her to roll over and lie chest-to-chest with him. She accidentally forgets that she’s supposed to be pretending to sleep, because she all too willingly snuggles against him, nuzzling her face against his collarbone, where Leia had just been. She loves that both of their distinct scents drift pleasantly into her nose.

Rubbing her back, Killian kisses her head before whispering almost inaudibly. “Are you awake, sweetheart? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” she whispers, and she’s shocked at how thick with emotion her voice is. The lump is still in her throat, the strength of her love and appreciation for him threatening to overwhelm her.

He immediately senses the emotion in her tone, and he tilts her chin up so that he can look at her face, his thumb resting in the cleft of her chin. He sees little tears forming in her eyes. “What is it, Emma? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No,” she assures him, leaning into his touch, loving the feel of his strong, calloused palm against her cheek. “It wasn’t a bad dream. It was a good dream. A really, really good dream.”

“Yeah? Well I’m glad to hear that, darling. Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Nah, s’okay,” she tells him, making her tone sound sleepy. (It isn’t hard, she is sleepy.) “Maybe we can talk about it in the morning. I just love you, and Leia, and Henry, and you, so, so, so much.”

He smiles at her, brushing his nose against hers before pulling her back against his chest, squeezing her tight and encouraging her to sleep by rubbing his knuckles softly against her scalp. “We love you too, Swan. We love you too.”

And that was the third time.

Can We Please Talk About…

canwetalkaboutcaptainswan:

The Second Time It Happened? (A Leia fic)

Hey, my loves! It’s been too long since I bestowed a Leia fic upon you. This is part 2/? of the story of how Captain Killian-can’t-get-enough-of-his-daughter Jones can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night because he’s just too stinkin in love with his little girl. Leia is 6 weeks old. This is literally nothing but fluff, AS ALWAYS.

Click here if you missed the first time it happened.

****

The second time it happens, Emma wakes to the sound of whispered words of endearment. “You’re so, so beautiful. But even more importantly, you’re smart. You’re so, so smart. And brave. And loud, especially loud. You just love being loud, don’t you?” Emma snickers, propelling herself backwards towards the middle of the bed, hoping for her back to collide with her pirate’s warm, hard chest.

She moves a few inches, but still doesn’t make contact. “You’re going to fall off the bed, pirate,” she whispers. “Why are you so far over?”

Killian ignores her. “You’re so special, darling. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you. My beautiful, sweet…” (Emma smiles, wondering what prompted her pirate to get all wordy and cheesy with her in the middle of the night.)

“….perfect love. I love you so, so much, my littlest love.”

Emma’s eyes jerk open wider. LITTLEST?!

She turns around, and contrary to her prior beliefs, Killian’s side of the bed is empty. He is not whispering loving words across the bed to her. No, no. He is whispering loving words to his daughter. Loving words that just so happen to be flowing audibly through the baby monitor.

Emma scoffs and laughs and groans all at the same time, throwing back her covers and trudging to Leia’s room. This man.

She arrives just in time to watch Killian pepper kisses all over Leia’s tiny face.

“Killian Jones,” she scolds playfully, and he turns to her, the look on his face one of a child who’s just gotten caught with his hands in the cookie jar. “What might you be doing out of bed?”

“I…umm….I…” he stammers, and she’s brought straight back to the Enchanted Forest, as he stumbled to come up with a fake name.

“Charles. Prince Charles. And I’m Princess….Leia.”

Emma just laughs. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to hand over the merchandise,” she explains, holding out her arms expectantly. Killian sticks out his bottom lip, pretending to pout as he hands Emma their daughter. Emma cradles the sleeping bundle in her arms, holding Leia’s face close enough to nuzzle with her cheek. “What is Daddy doing with you, duckling?” She coos, her voice quiet but enthusiastic, “Is he bugging you? Aren’t you sick of being told how pretty you are? I hope not. You’re so pretty, Leiabear. Especially when you’re sleeping, yes. Mmm, I love you so much.”

Now it’s Emma’s turn to pepper kisses all over. Killian watches his girls with delight, joy overflowing his heart. Emma looks so radiant in her silky white nightgown, bed hair falling gracefully over her shoulders, pretty pink cheek nuzzled against Leia’s matching one. Her hands hold the baby like she’s done it for years, not weeks. He’s so, so proud, and feels way, way too lucky.

“You okay?” she asks him, catching him staring.

“Aye, Swan,” he answers her, “Just admiring my lovely family.”

Emma beams, turning back to their daughter. “You tell Daddy that if he’s gunna sneak out to see you in the middle of the night, he’s gotta learn how to turn the monitor off so Mumma doesn’t hear him talking to you.”

Killian emits a frustrated groan. “That bloody contraption is still on? Bloody hell. I swear, I toggled all of the correct—“

Emma cuts him off. “Daddy’s no good with buttons, Leia,” she continues, rubbing her nose against the baby’s, “We’re gunna have to teach him all over again, aren’t we?”

“Swan, I swear, I hit the blue button, just like you—“

“Red button,” she corrects him, kissing Leia’s nose softly with her lips before turning to set her down in the crib, “The red button turns it on and off.”

Killian grabs hold of her wrist gently as she’s halfway through lowering Leia back into her bed. “Wait, wait,” he insists, giving her a pleading expression. “Can I have me merchandise back? Just for a second?”

She opens her mouth to tease him again, but then she really looks at his face and, as usual, every part of her turns soft. He just wants to hold his daughter and make sure she knows how much she’s loved. That’s all he wants.

Emma hands Leia to Killian, and she makes a small, frustrated whimpering noise. (She’s probably tired of being passed back and forth like a basketball during her precious 2 hour sleeping interval) “There, there, my littlest love,” Killian whispers, leaning her against his bare shoulder and rubbing her back the way he knows she likes. Leia’s body relaxes, slumped comfortably against her father’s. Killian sways as he rubs her back, using his blunted left arm to hold her securely against his chest. Emma watches with a smile, remembering a conversation they’d had on multiple occasions before Leia was born.

“How am I going to hold her when I’m down a bloody hand? What if it scares her?”

“You will find a way and it will feel just right, to you and to her. I promise. And she absolutely won’t be scared a single bit. I promise. You’ll just be Daddy. Every kid adores their dad. I promise, Killian.”

“You promise?”

“Yes. The only thing I can’t promise is that she’ll be a SHE, so you should really stop that.”

“Oh, she’s a she. I can just feel it. You’ve our little princess in there, Swan.”

“Whatever you say, Killian.”

Emma shakes her head at the memory, returning to the present. Killian’s lips are pressed to Leia’s hair, his eyes closed while he rememorizes the scent he’s already banked in his mind thousands of times.

Emma moves to stand next to him, putting one hand over his and using the other to lightly scratch his bare back. She sways in time with him, pressing her lips against his shoulder. “You’re so incredible with her,” she praises him, unable to keep her mouth shut about it, “I could watch you hold her forever. Even though it’s the middle of the night and I’m exhausted.”

Killian lets out a breathy laugh. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

“Who are you talking to, pirate?” she teases him, nipping at his shoulder.

“You this time, Swan,” he clarifies, turning his head away from Leia to press his face into Emma’s hair. “I’ll never stop hoping that this little person right here grows up to be just like her mother.”

“I don’t know,” Emma counters, nodding at the way Leia is so comfortably snuggled in Killian’s grip, “She’s quite the daddy’s girl and you’ve taken her sailing every single day of her life. We’re bound to have a little pirate on our hands, I think.”

Killian tsked. “Tell Mummy to stop teasing you, princess,” he coos at Leia, rubbing the baby’s shoulders with his thumb. “She’s always so calm when we’re on the waves.”

“Of course she is,” Emma agrees, already looking forward to the morning, when Killian would inevitably pack up everything and bundle Leia up for their morning sail, “she’s your daughter.”

And that was the second time.

Can We Please Talk About…

canwetalkaboutcaptainswan:

The First Time It Happened? (A Leia fic)

Hey, my loves! It’s been too long since I bestowed a Leia fic upon you. This is part 1/? of the story of how Captain Killian-can’t-get-enough-of-his-daughter Jones can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night because he’s just too stinkin in love with his little girl. Leia is 6 weeks old. This is literally nothing but fluff, AS ALWAYS.

***

The first time it happens, Emma wakes up in a panic. Her arm stretches across the bed to find Killian’s side empty, her hand groping at nothing. Her heart races as her eyes adjust to the darkness enveloping their room while she jumps out of bed. There’s only one place he could be, and if she doesn’t find him there she knows she’ll combust with fear. She races down the hallway.

She exhales loudly in the doorway to 6-week-old Leia’s room, prompting her husband to look up from his daughter’s face to behold his wife’s. Killian is in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, Leia fast asleep in his protective arms.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Emma scolds, crossing her own arms and entering the room. “Did she wake up? How come you didn’t wake me up?” That was their usual routine. Killian had the ears of a bat when it came to his daughter, and he always woke Emma whenever Leia woke so they could tend to her together.

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispers, a finger of his tracing lines on Leia’s pink cheek. “No, she didn’t wake. I did. Couldn’t stop thinking about her.”

Emma’s expression softens, and she tiptoes a little closer to her two favourite people. “Room for me?” she asks quietly.

Killian shifts Leia to one arm, inviting Emma to join them in the rocker. She climbs onto his lap willingly, and he settles Leia against Emma’s chest, effectively holding both of them. Even while she knows Killian’s got an expert hold on her, Emma can’t help but curl her own arm around Leia, too, her fingers stroking the fabric that covers her round little belly. Emma’s eyes have well adjusted now and she gazes down at her little girl. Their little girl. Even after six weeks, Emma is still in perplexed awe at how perfect of a blend she is of herself and Killian. Killian’s lips, her nose. Killian’s hair, her eyes. Killian’s dramatic flare, her unending stubbornness.

Killian breaks the silence, pulling Emma out of her reverie. “It scares me, sometimes,” he admits to her, his eyes back on Leia.

The fact that it’s the middle of the night does not hinder Emma’s ability to understand exactly what her husband means. “How much you love her? I know. Scares me, too.”

“All the while she grew inside you, I thought…I thought I knew what it was like to love her. But now, now that she’s here, I just…it consumes my every thought. Like just now, when I woke. I couldn’t stop thinking about how badly I wanted to touch my pinkie to her little nose,” he rambles on, performing the action he’d just named. “How’s it possible to love somebody’s nose so much?”

Emma smiles so wide that the skin that borders her eyes crinkles tightly. “I thought you loved my nose?!” she says, feigning offence.

Killian grins, raising his pointer finger to boop Emma’s nose this time. “Oh, I do,” he assures her, softly stroking her nose’s tip, “But not quite as much as I love this one.” His finger returns to Leia’s nose, and Emma strokes his knuckles.

“It’s possible,” she says slowly, returning to his earlier question, “Because that particular nose is attached to your kid. And you’ll never love anyone or anything more than you love your kid. Not even your wife,” she tells him, her voice turning toward teasing at the end.

“She’s our kid,” he clarifies, pressing his lips to her temple, “And I love my wife very, very much.”

“Mmm,” Emma hums at his words, turning her face to press her lips to his gently. He raises his hand to cup her face, drawing his thumb over her jawbone. She melts into the kiss, her head spinning. He breaks it and presses his forehead to hers, breathing in her scent before looking back down at Leia.

“She looks exactly like you,” he says.

Emma just sighs. “You say that every single day, Killian.”

“Because I’ll never be over it, love. She’s your spitting image.”

“Killian, she’s got your hair. And your lips. Look at those lips.”

Killian traces Leia’s lips with his thumb. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, watching as Leia yawns in her sleep, her little mouth forming a small little O.

Emma’s breath catches at the loving expression on Killian’s face, as it so often does. There truly aren’t words to describe how much he loves his little girl. She cards her fingers through his hair. “We should really get back to bed,” she whispers.

“But she’s just so precious,” he argues, directing his gaze toward Leia’s sleeping features, “I quite love holding her.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “Oh, you don’t say,” she teases him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, defensive.

Emma shakes her head playfully. “Oh, nothing. I mean, you only hold her for the majority of each day, awake or asleep, in the crook of your arm, just there…you never let my parents hold her, and even I have to beg…and you’re telling me you like it? Never would’ve guessed.”

Killian huffs. “Aren’t I allowed to hold my own daughter, Swan?”

“Yes, of course. But you’re also allowed to let her sleep in her crib and teach her to be a nice, independent baby.”

“She likes it when I hold her,” he says, still really defensive. Emma deems this fight not one to have in the wee hours of the night.

“Of course she does,” Emma assures him supportively, turning her attention back to the little person in Killian’s hold. “You love that daddy of yours, don’t you, little bird? Yes, I know,” she coos to the sleeping baby, brushing her fingers over the soft mat of hair on the crown of her head, “Mummy loves him, too.”

Killian smiles, and Emma leans in to kiss his cheek, nuzzling her face there. “Okay, Daddy,” she coaxes, wiggling in his arms, “Your little princess will be calling for you soon enough. You’d best put her back so you can hold me for a change.”

Killian chuckles while Emma gets up carefully, pulling him to a stand with her. Killian leans down to press a gentle kiss to Leia’s forehead before he lowers the tiny infant into her crib. “I’ll be right down the hall, my littlest love,” he promises her, watching her little tummy rise and fall. “Mummy needs a cuddle.”

Killian threads his fingers through Emma’s, intent on finally retreating toward the door. But he’s surprised to find Emma’s feet planted in place next to Leia’s crib, his tug at her hand useless. “What is it, love?” he asks, peering down into the crib, brief panic brewing as he wonders if Emma’s found something out of place.

“Nothing,” she assures him, squeezing his hand. “I just…love her. I just love her.”

Keeping their fingers threaded, Killian wraps both of his arms around his wife, cuddling behind her and leaning his chin on her shoulder. They both watch Leia for a few minutes longer, just swaying there in front of her crib, never tiring of staring at her sweet little face. It’s such a simple, loving gesture, two parents watching over their child; but all the same, it’s one that neither of them experienced as children. And it’s for that reason that they stand, steady and proud, both determined to ensure that their daughter never has to grow up like they did.

And that was the first time.

waiting-for-autumn:

“True love kiss, daddy!”

“I already feel better, love”

Sick Killian gets the most powerful medicine in the world from his daughter.

It’s been a while since I draw some Daddy!Killian, but here we are!! (I’m planning to make a couple more during the weekend to put in the queue I prepared for when I will be in Scotland.)

Let me know what you think!