First parts: https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/694.html?thread=1879478#cmt1879478
Let's continue this here now then!
_____________________
It wasn’t even supposed to be a mission. Nicky had medical training, and Joe was nifty with engineering, so when they decided to join in humanitarian efforts at a refugee camp, and Andy tagged along, Nile thought her absence wouldn’t be felt too deeply. That they uncovered a child trafficking ring was incidental; that it ran deeper than they first thought was enough reason to have her back.
It didn’t mean she wasn’t worried all through it.
Something about the way Booker saw her off made her feel on edge. No, not something: the kiss. She hugged him, as always, on the threshold of his old building, and then he chose that moment to pull her into a kiss. Not a peck in the cheek, as she was used to giving him, or a press of lips against her forehead, as he sometimes did. A full-on kiss that followed her through the days away, and made her anxious to return quickly, no matter how many times she made him swear he would get help if he needed it.
It takes her a second to place the faint smell drifting from a couple of plastic bags slumped by the flat's door, but when the metallic scent of blood registers, Nile panics. The flat is silent and still, and she's immediately pulled to the sight of Booker's broad back slumped on the bed.
"Book, what happe—oh, shit!"
A scrunched up little face watches her from the bed, unfocused and unaware that Nile held herself on her feet by sheer adrenaline.
"Shit, fuckin—Book!"
He doesn't quite notice her despite her bruising grip shaking his shoulder, attention drifting to the squirming baby beside him. Nile's stomach sinks at the softness with which he places his big hand over the baby's little belly, motion soothing and gentle. His mouth curving in a little smile looks out of place with the deep shadows under his eyes, the days old stubble covering his cheeks; he smells of exhaustion.
"Book?" She can't keep the waver out of her voice, and that seems to do the trick.
Slowly, slowly, he turns his head and smiles. "Hey," he sighs, voice small, face falling, "Please, don't cry."
"I'm not," she says, sniffling a little, running her hand through his greasy hair. "You agreed, Book. I left because you agreed you'd go to the hospital if you felt something. Why?"
“They would see,” he mumbles, eyes drifting closed at her touch, “Couldn’t let them.”
Rationally, Nile knows the risks of him having birth at a hospital, at someone seeing their abilities when he was alone and vulnerable; he would’ve survived it either way. The baby, on the other hand, wouldn’t have had the same luck had anything happened.
“You put the baby at risk.” Her voice comes out harder than she meant, and he recoils. Nile does her best to tamp down the panic bubbling up her chest. Standing up, she props him into a sitting position. “C’mon, we can deal with it once we sort out this mess first.”
"She can't be alone," he whispers, eyes vacant and lost now she pulled him away from the cocoon he'd entrenched himself for the last few days. "She's too small, she can't be alone."
"She won't be, I promise," Nile answers, doing her best to keep her voice steady, but she's one second away from spiralling. He still smells like blood. "I'll just pop you in the shower and then I'll go fetch her, alright? She'll be right where you can see her all the while."
Booker fixes her an indecipherable look, but nods in acquiescence, sagging a little more against her. She maneuvers his considerable weight into the shower, leaving him standing under the tepid spray. Hurrying back into the room, she finds the baby exactly how she left her, gurgling a little and completely oblivious to the rampant anxiety racking through Nile's body. She's pink and round-cheeked, with nothing about her that should set her apart from all the other babies Nile has seen in her life, and yet immediately she feels… something. A warmth coiling around her ribs, an intense desire to protect, to cherish. This is family, she knows from the first sight.
Her weight on her arms feels right, the little squirming bundle swaddled in the starry blanket molding itself perfectly against her chest. Oh, Nile thinks, running a fingertip along a chubby cheek, she's so fucked.
She goes back to the bathroom, sitting down on the closed toilet. Booker peeks a look at them, already a little more present and aware, only to suck in a strangled breath at whatever is it that he sees; pressing his lips, he goes back to washing his hair. Nile can't help but watch him, and how little his body gave away about what it just went through: apart from a little flush and swelling around his nipples, he looks just the same, even though she only caught a glimpse of him pre bump—it was hard to focus on anything else except his exposed guts at the moment. Still, the sight of him naked and wet, soft cock resting placid between his thighs, make her lower belly tighten, and at the same time she feels guilty.
His voice accusing her of being there on some misguided alpha instinct to defend the vulnerable omega echoes through her head as she fixes him something to eat, which he accepts one-handed while balancing the baby latched at his chest with the other.
"Careful not to slip."
"Uh?" she asks, blinking up at him from her food.
"You're about to drool a puddle on the floor," he says, his smile barely a quirk, directed at his food, "alpha."
Nile shudders, the tone of his voice along with the sight making her head spin and she recoils. What is going on with her? "I'm sorry," she says, "I didn't mean to—fuck, I'm so sorry—"
"It's ok, I'm just teasing," he says, eyes fond. "I know you're not like that."
The day slips by between caring for the baby and Booker. He loses focus more than a few times, voice trailing off in the middle of a sentence; other times Nile sees him staring at the baby looking lost. He doesn’t slip once while taking care of her, knowing when she needed something a second before she made a single sound of protest, but still the dazed look comes back once she settles, as if she were a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite find the fit. The entire situation left Nile restless, and she didn’t even know exactly why.
At night, she makes no comment when he settles on the bed with the baby, even if her skin itches to come closer; instead, she pulls a blanket and a pillow down to the floor, out of the way but within reach if he needs help.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to sleep?”
Booker frowns. “Why are you on the floor then?”
“We won’t all fit on the bed.” His eyebrows furrow further. “It’s no bother, really.”
Sighing, Booker sits cradling the baby to his chest. “Don’t be silly, of course we all fit. Come up here,” he says, patting the mattress by his side. Nile hesitates, a protest sharp at the tip of her tongue. “I know I teased you about…” he continues, closing his eyes, looking so tired. “About your alpha instincts and all that but… It would make me feel better, I think. Hypocrite, I know.”
“Book…”
“Please.”
Later, with an arm thrown over Booker’s middle, his breath warm and constant against her temple, Nile watches the baby secure and fast asleep over his chest, and thinks she’s very, very fucked.
____________________________
Oh we're getting closer to a resolution, but this is definitely quite long already lmao.
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timeasmymeasure
Booker/Nile, A/B/O, exile pregnancy (6/?) Cont.
Date: 2020-11-05 12:13 am (UTC)First parts: https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/694.html?thread=1879478#cmt1879478
Let's continue this here now then!
_____________________
It wasn’t even supposed to be a mission. Nicky had medical training, and Joe was nifty with engineering, so when they decided to join in humanitarian efforts at a refugee camp, and Andy tagged along, Nile thought her absence wouldn’t be felt too deeply. That they uncovered a child trafficking ring was incidental; that it ran deeper than they first thought was enough reason to have her back.
It didn’t mean she wasn’t worried all through it.
Something about the way Booker saw her off made her feel on edge. No, not something: the kiss. She hugged him, as always, on the threshold of his old building, and then he chose that moment to pull her into a kiss. Not a peck in the cheek, as she was used to giving him, or a press of lips against her forehead, as he sometimes did. A full-on kiss that followed her through the days away, and made her anxious to return quickly, no matter how many times she made him swear he would get help if he needed it.
It takes her a second to place the faint smell drifting from a couple of plastic bags slumped by the flat's door, but when the metallic scent of blood registers, Nile panics. The flat is silent and still, and she's immediately pulled to the sight of Booker's broad back slumped on the bed.
"Book, what happe—oh, shit!"
A scrunched up little face watches her from the bed, unfocused and unaware that Nile held herself on her feet by sheer adrenaline.
"Shit, fuckin—Book!"
He doesn't quite notice her despite her bruising grip shaking his shoulder, attention drifting to the squirming baby beside him. Nile's stomach sinks at the softness with which he places his big hand over the baby's little belly, motion soothing and gentle. His mouth curving in a little smile looks out of place with the deep shadows under his eyes, the days old stubble covering his cheeks; he smells of exhaustion.
"Book?" She can't keep the waver out of her voice, and that seems to do the trick.
Slowly, slowly, he turns his head and smiles. "Hey," he sighs, voice small, face falling, "Please, don't cry."
"I'm not," she says, sniffling a little, running her hand through his greasy hair. "You agreed, Book. I left because you agreed you'd go to the hospital if you felt something. Why?"
“They would see,” he mumbles, eyes drifting closed at her touch, “Couldn’t let them.”
Rationally, Nile knows the risks of him having birth at a hospital, at someone seeing their abilities when he was alone and vulnerable; he would’ve survived it either way. The baby, on the other hand, wouldn’t have had the same luck had anything happened.
“You put the baby at risk.” Her voice comes out harder than she meant, and he recoils. Nile does her best to tamp down the panic bubbling up her chest. Standing up, she props him into a sitting position. “C’mon, we can deal with it once we sort out this mess first.”
"She can't be alone," he whispers, eyes vacant and lost now she pulled him away from the cocoon he'd entrenched himself for the last few days. "She's too small, she can't be alone."
"She won't be, I promise," Nile answers, doing her best to keep her voice steady, but she's one second away from spiralling. He still smells like blood. "I'll just pop you in the shower and then I'll go fetch her, alright? She'll be right where you can see her all the while."
Booker fixes her an indecipherable look, but nods in acquiescence, sagging a little more against her. She maneuvers his considerable weight into the shower, leaving him standing under the tepid spray. Hurrying back into the room, she finds the baby exactly how she left her, gurgling a little and completely oblivious to the rampant anxiety racking through Nile's body. She's pink and round-cheeked, with nothing about her that should set her apart from all the other babies Nile has seen in her life, and yet immediately she feels… something. A warmth coiling around her ribs, an intense desire to protect, to cherish. This is family, she knows from the first sight.
Her weight on her arms feels right, the little squirming bundle swaddled in the starry blanket molding itself perfectly against her chest. Oh, Nile thinks, running a fingertip along a chubby cheek, she's so fucked.
She goes back to the bathroom, sitting down on the closed toilet. Booker peeks a look at them, already a little more present and aware, only to suck in a strangled breath at whatever is it that he sees; pressing his lips, he goes back to washing his hair. Nile can't help but watch him, and how little his body gave away about what it just went through: apart from a little flush and swelling around his nipples, he looks just the same, even though she only caught a glimpse of him pre bump—it was hard to focus on anything else except his exposed guts at the moment. Still, the sight of him naked and wet, soft cock resting placid between his thighs, make her lower belly tighten, and at the same time she feels guilty.
His voice accusing her of being there on some misguided alpha instinct to defend the vulnerable omega echoes through her head as she fixes him something to eat, which he accepts one-handed while balancing the baby latched at his chest with the other.
"Careful not to slip."
"Uh?" she asks, blinking up at him from her food.
"You're about to drool a puddle on the floor," he says, his smile barely a quirk, directed at his food, "alpha."
Nile shudders, the tone of his voice along with the sight making her head spin and she recoils. What is going on with her? "I'm sorry," she says, "I didn't mean to—fuck, I'm so sorry—"
"It's ok, I'm just teasing," he says, eyes fond. "I know you're not like that."
The day slips by between caring for the baby and Booker. He loses focus more than a few times, voice trailing off in the middle of a sentence; other times Nile sees him staring at the baby looking lost. He doesn’t slip once while taking care of her, knowing when she needed something a second before she made a single sound of protest, but still the dazed look comes back once she settles, as if she were a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite find the fit. The entire situation left Nile restless, and she didn’t even know exactly why.
At night, she makes no comment when he settles on the bed with the baby, even if her skin itches to come closer; instead, she pulls a blanket and a pillow down to the floor, out of the way but within reach if he needs help.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to sleep?”
Booker frowns. “Why are you on the floor then?”
“We won’t all fit on the bed.” His eyebrows furrow further. “It’s no bother, really.”
Sighing, Booker sits cradling the baby to his chest. “Don’t be silly, of course we all fit. Come up here,” he says, patting the mattress by his side. Nile hesitates, a protest sharp at the tip of her tongue. “I know I teased you about…” he continues, closing his eyes, looking so tired. “About your alpha instincts and all that but… It would make me feel better, I think. Hypocrite, I know.”
“Book…”
“Please.”
Later, with an arm thrown over Booker’s middle, his breath warm and constant against her temple, Nile watches the baby secure and fast asleep over his chest, and thinks she’s very, very fucked.
____________________________
Oh we're getting closer to a resolution, but this is definitely quite long already lmao.