bookerdewittsstuff

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Domestic! Booker Dewitt HCs part 3!

Booker with a baby! no warnings this time.

A/N: I hate college

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after years of being together, Booker had finally found peace within himself. He no longer saw himself as some piece of shit gambler, private investigator, and veteran. He’s just…him now. And for once, he can stand to look at himself in the mirror every day. Don’t get me wrong, he was still a complete asshole sometimes, but he’s gotten better.

He never imagined himself having kids, he thought it would just be you and him until the end of time…or until you inevitably got tired of his bullshit and left him. But that day hadn’t come just yet.

So when he found out you were pregnant he was shocked to say the least. He literally went :0 and just stared at you for a good few minutes.

-“oh my god, please say something,” you begged, almost ready to slap that bewildered look off his face. He just stood there, his mouth agape as he looked down at the positive pregnancy test clutched in your hand. “Uh…congratulations?” He whispered, glancing up at you.

Of course it was never a planned pregnancy…maybe the two of you forgot to wear a condom a few times…but surprise! You’re welcoming a child into your loving home!

He didn’t care about the gender, but it was a girl and he was perfectly fine with that. The two of you decided on the name Anna (haha), and soon the baby was here!

He had no idea what he was doing. So when you asked him to change Anna’s diaper while you went to the bathroom, he was again bewildered.

-he blinked down at his baby, the baby blinked up at him as she pulled her tiny little foot into her mouth. “Stop that,” he grumbled, pulling off the soiled diaper and quickly discarding it. After wiping Anna clean, he grabbed the new diaper, opening it up and staring at it. “What the hell?” He scoffed, trying to figure out how he was supposed to put this damn thing on. Eventually, when he did put the diaper on, you appeared behind his shoulder, “it’s on backwards,” you said and he jumped slightly, not realizing you were there. “Oh Jesus Christ,” he groaned as Anna cooed up at him, her foot still in her mouth.

When it came to Anna waking up in the middle of the night, he usually let you do it because anna seemed to like you more than him. But one night, anna was fussing and crying and you were sound asleep next to him. He sighed and got up, heading into anna’s nursery and picking her up, holding her against his chest like he’s seen you do many times.

- “how can you be so loud, hm?” He whispered tiredly, sitting in the rocking chair in the corner and slowly rocking back and forth, anna pressed against his chest. “I’m not gonna sing those silly little nursery rhymes like your mama does…” he complained as if Anna understood him. Instead, he talked about his life before he met you, how miserable he was and then he met you, got married, and not too long after, he had his very own child. Anna was fast asleep by the time he was finished talking about his time in the war.

- this continued for a while. He let you sleep and instead took care of the baby himself. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way anna looked up at him when he picked her up. How she now immediately stopped crying when he walked into the room. It warmed his heart to be loved by two people who were very special to him.

Eventually, he was a pro at changing diapers, feeding Anna, putting her to sleep, and giving her baths. Though he felt a bit offended when Anna’s first coherent word was “mama” and not “papa” or “dada”.

-“honey, you can’t be mad at that,” you said, patting his shoulder as he held Anna in his arms. He had an annoyed expression on his face as he looked down at the baby. “I’ll remember this when you’re older, little girl,” he said and you just grinned.

When anna became a toddler, he was a bit more on edge than usual. She became curious about things. Such as the cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink or what would happen if she ran full speed towards a corner of the coffee table. So, he had to toddler-proof literally the entire house.

- he was putting the finishing touches on the toddler-proofed coffee table when he heard some noises in the bathroom. He froze, remembering that you had left to go meet some friends and the last time he checked, anna was playing with some building blocks. But when he looked over to his side, anna wasn’t there. He quickly jumped up and ran towards the bathroom. The sight before him was anna holding a bottle of bleach, the cap clattering onto the floor just as he managed to grab the bottle from her. “If you don’t accidentally kill your lead with these damn cleaning supplies first, you’re gonna give me a goddamn heart attack,” he huffed, making a mental note to put a child lock on the bathroom cabinets as he carried anna out of the bathroom.

Despite the critical voice in his head telling him he’s a terrible man, he’s a good father. He found love in both you and his own child. He has two reasons to live now. And maybe once anna is a few years older he comes to you asking about another child….

#bioshock #bioshock infinite #bioshock fanfiction #booker dewitt #booker dewitt x reader

[bookerdewittsstuff]

College SUCKS can’t find any time or motivation to write anything anymore, but who knows? I keep getting notifications that people are liking my posts and I’m like ?? People still read my shit omg? Wanna branch out to other fandoms soon idk. Hope y’all are staying safe!!

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Sheri Moon Zombie  as  Baby Firefly

THE DEVIL’S REJECTS

[bookerdewittsstuff]

I desperately want to try and start writing fanfics for slashers. Like rob zombie’s micheal myers, Bo Sinclair, and Asa Emory are just so………scrumptious. Why do they have to make fictional serial killers so goddamn fine?? AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON CILLIAN MURPHY AS JONATHAN CRANE! I also want to write for the COD men and the resident evil men cause I’ve been obsessed with them for god knows how long. Anyway. Just over here being a whore for fictional men……like usual………

#slashers #slasher x reader #bioshock #bo sinclair #leon kennedy #call of duty #jonathan crane #I’m such a whore for fictional men #i love men

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Domestic! Booker x Reader HC’s pt. 2

A/n: I wanted to write more of these bc I enjoyed writing the first part. This one will be less organized and more about random aspects of married life with this loser man.

CW: mentions of male masturbation, vague mentions of sex, mentions of fighting, reader is afab, slight jealousy. I think that’s it?? Bad grammar bc this is rushed and NOT proofread 😭 MINORS DNI.

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» Booker got jealous only sometimes. Jealousy stems from insecurities and Booker likes to tell himself he isn’t insecure (he is), so whenever another man would hit on you right in front of him, he’d clear his throat and give the man an unamused look, and then he’d worry about his feelings later.

» You never gave any of these men the time of day. Yes, your husband was a very difficult man, but you loved him all the same. Your lack of acknowledgment towards these men helped his jealousy, but those few times that a stranger would be so charming that he’d catch you giggling at something they’d say, well…Booker would puff out his chest a little bit.

» He’d wrap an arm around you, stand to his full height, and glare at the stranger with a simple “can i help you?” His look would be enough to send the stranger on his way without another glance at you.

» Later that night you’d randomly reassure him that you loved him and you were only being friendly. He knew that, but his pride got in his way of talking about his feelings. He just didn’t understand how you could be so nice all the time.

» Speaking of, the two of you were complete opposites. You were positive and friendly, always striking up a conversation with a random stranger in line at the grocery store, or complimenting someone on their appearance. You never failed to make someone smile, and you brought a warm energy with you wherever you went.

» Booker, on the other hand, was quiet and pessimistic. He didn’t talk to anyone unless he absolutely had to, and even then it was only a few words. He spoke to you the most because he trusted you the most. His tone was constantly rough and unamused, like he always had somewhere better he wanted to be (with you at home).

» Many of your friends wondered how the hell you put up with his behavior all the time. He was so..negative. You told them that he wasn’t always like that. And it’s true.

One morning Booker had awoken to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and what smelled like bacon and slightly burnt toast. He left the room and found you in the kitchen with the sun peeking through the blinds, your hair messy and sleep still in your eyes. But you stood there, humming to yourself as you buttered some toast for the two of you.

He leaned against the doorframe and felt a grin spread across his face. Booker rarely smiled. But this smile was genuine, and it felt nice. He smiled because there you were, the love of his life making breakfast for the two of you just because you wanted to. Because you loved him.

He came up behind you and slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning down to kiss the side of your head, smelling the scent of your sweet shampoo. “I’m so lucky to have you. I love you.” He whispered, which made you smile from ear to ear. Yes, Booker was negative, but when he stopped and watched you, just watched you, he felt as if everything in the world was alright.

Another time you remember was when he was gone at work and you had the day off. You decided to break out your paints and canvasses after keeping them in the attic for a few years. After getting married, your life was chaotic and you barely had time for your old hobby. But with the house cleaned and Booker away, you thought why the hell not.

You used to be good at painting, even entering some of your paintings in art festivals and earning some reward money. But that was years ago, and you were sure you weren’t as good as you were then.

You set your supplies up on the balcony in the backyard just as the sun began to set and you got to work, trying to find some inspiration. You mindlessly painted until you heard the balcony door slide open and your husband’s voice calling your name.

“Honey?” He asked, making his way outside. The sun had set and it was a few degrees colder. You sighed as you looked at your painting. You thought it was hideous. He came up behind you and looked at the canvas. “What is it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side to try and make out the picture.

You groaned and covered your face. “It’s supposed to be us..” you said, your voice filled with embarrassment. “It’s…abstract I guess.” Your shoulders slumped. You heard a light chuckle behind you and you pulled your hands from your face to see your husband smiling back at you. “I love it. It’s different. It’s very you.” He said softly and before you knew it, he was heading back inside with a pat on your head.

Those words meant a lot. And when you later found the picture hanging up in his office, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your heart.

» He’s not much of a cuddler. He prefers to sleep on separate sides of the beds, but sometimes you’d find yourself waking up with your head on his chest and his arm tucked around you. Or you’d wake up in the middle of night to Booker’s heavy breathing as he pulls you closer to him after he’s had a nightmare. He lied. He’s definitely a cuddler.

» He has a bad habit of ignoring you when you fought. You’d be so frustrated with him that you’d start crying and he’d just ignore you for a while, figuring that you probably needed some time alone. He didn’t like seeing you cry, especially not because of him, but he also didn’t want to make you feel worse by saying something wrong. But later he’d come and you two would make up.

“I don’t know what to do anymore” You scoffed, tears steaming down your face as you threw your hands up in desperation. All you got in response was a sigh and the sound of a door firmly shutting. And then silence. Booker had come home in a shitty mood. He had a bad day and decided to take it out on his loving wife. He was being really snappy and short with you, you did everything to try and make him feel better, but to no avail. All you got was a “goddamn it woman, leave me alone.” And then a cold shoulder. It pissed you off beyond belief.

You sat at the kitchen table and sobbed as you ate dinner alone. You weren’t very hungry, having your appetite ruined by your husband’s attitude. While you cried very easily, husbands weren’t supposed to take their anger out on their loving wives. You sat there with your head in your hands, your shoulders softly shaking as you let out your frustrations.

You didn’t register the sound of the door opening and closing gently, and his slow footsteps as he approached you. Only when you felt his rough hand on your shoulder did you recognize his presence. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “Please don’t cry. I love you.” It wasn’t the greatest apology, but it was something.

» Booker denies any accusations that he’s clingy. He laughs dryly in your face whenever you try and tell him that he needs you more than he thinks he does. You like to bring up a specific time that proves that you’re right.

The house was quiet. Way too quiet and way too cold for Booker’s liking. He sat on the couch, unsure of what to do as you were gone on vacation with your friends. You’d only been gone on your trip for two hours, barely having made it to the airport before Booker was bored out of his mind. Sure, he had work during the day, but what was he supposed to do after he got home? Usually you would rope him into cooking dinner with you, and then settling down to watch a tv show until you went to bed. But now he was unsure of how he’d spend his evenings in the week you’d be gone.

By the fifth day, he was fighting himself. He’d already slept with your pillow close to his chest, his face buried in it so he’d smell your shampoo. It wasn’t working. He missed you so much it was unbearable. Your cell service wasn’t great where you were, so he’d receive sporadic updates on your trip, enough to ensure you were safe for the day.

By the sixth day, he was masturbating to old pictures of you. Some of the pictures weren’t even dirty, some innocent, Random pictures he’d take throughout the day. But when he used this imagination, he could remember the feeling of your soft skin as his calloused hands roamed your body, the cute noises you made, and how you felt around him as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you. It still wasn’t enough.

By the seventh day, he was practically on the edge of his seat all day waiting for you to walk through that front door. And as soon as you did, he was all over you. He pulled your suitcases out of your hands and pinned you to the wall. He’d whisper how much he missed you and how unbearable your absence was.

And then he’d keep you in bed for hours.

» Whenever he agreed to go shopping with you, on the rare occasion he did, he didn’t expect you to actually take your time in the store, looking at every single article of clothing. He’d follow you around with an unamused look on his face, sighing loudly.

You were looking at a cute dress that had caught your eye when you heard yet another loud sigh from behind you. You rolled your eyes, clearly amused by his obvious attempts to prove how bored he was. “Something wrong?” You asked without looking at him.

“Nope.” He said sarcastically. “I’m having the time of my life.” He said dryly as he looked around the store, soft music playing in the background. He felt as if his brain was going to melt from how bored he was. But he felt his interest pique when you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the lingerie section.

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#bioshock #bioshock infinite #booker dewitt #bioshock fanfiction #booker dewitt x reader

[bookerdewittsstuff]

"Well, I'm afraid I have to tell you anyway."

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Andrew Ryan: What is this?

Dr. Steinman, absolutely disfiguring someone's face: Art

Andrew: Okay I like it, Picasso

[bookerdewittsstuff]

I love how cohens boss fight just starts with him yelling "I AM SANDER FUCKING COHEN" and starts blasting plasmids everywhere because Jack interrupted a dance-

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Domestic!Booker Dewitt HCs

CW: mentions of sex, mentions of fighting, doesn’t follow the Bioshock timeline, not much else.

I disappeared for a few months cause I graduated high school and it’s off to college for me 🔥🔥. Anyway enjoy.

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» Meeting Booker:

You were a very headstrong individual, which was why you never listened to anyone who told you that walking home alone was very dangerous. Your stubbornness put you in a terrible situation: being mugged.

It all happened so fast, your wallet was snatched right out of your hand, the culprit sprinting down the street, knocking you on your feet with a hard shove. You fell to the ground with a yelp.

A commotion was heard, some yelling, the sound of a second pair of footsteps running past you, and then more yelling. By the time you got up and steadied yourself, a different man was approaching you with your wallet in his hand.

“Are you alright, miss?” The voice belonged to a taller gentlemen with a scruffy beard and dark eyes. He gave you a glance over, but his voice was surprisingly calm. He handed your wallet back and turned to leave once you assured you were unharmed.

You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, “hey, you didn’t tell me your name.” You said, narrowing your eyes at him in curiosity. He seemed hesitant to give you his name.

“Booker…uh Dewitt—Booker Dewitt.” He said, his voice laced with hesitation. You introduced yourself and gave a friendly smile. “Well Mr. Dewitt, let me thank you for getting my wallet back…could I buy you some dinner some time as a thanks? Maybe a coffee?”

The two of you stood there for a good five minutes, arguing back and forth as he insisted that repayment wasn’t necessary, that he was “just doing a good deed.”

But like I said earlier, you were very headstrong, so ultimately, you won that argument.

Coffee turned into drinks, drinks turned into dinner, and dinner turned into dates around the city.

» Intimacy:

You soon learned that he was a very closed off person, since the day you two met for coffee he never talked about himself. Sometimes you’d get little pieces of information here and there, but you guessed he had a good reason for being so closed off all the time.

Once, the two of you were sitting on the couch watching a movie, about a foot apart, when you noticed his hand slowly moving closer and closer to yours. His eyes were glued to the tv, and it was obvious he was trying to be subtle about it. You just smiled to yourself once you finally felt his hand holding yours, his grip very light and hesitant, as if he was waiting for you to reject him. But you just sat there with your eyes glued to the tv, a stupid smile on your face, as you let him hold your hand.

The first time you kissed it was extremely awkward. It was your birthday, and he arrived at your doorstep with a single flower and a bottle of wine. The two of you drank, and then suddenly he leaned in and kissed you. It was quick and his lips barely touched yours before he pulled away, but it was definitely a kiss.

Sometimes he’d steal glances at you when you weren’t paying attention. It didn’t matter what you were doing; watching tv, cooking, cleaning, drawing, yawning, etc., he would always look at you. He couldn’t help but admire your beauty…and he felt as if he didn’t deserve someone who was as amazing and gorgeous as you were, but he never voiced his insecurities.

He’s not one for deep conversations. He’ll quickly change the subject if you ask about his past, and when he sees you get visibly frustrated with his emotional barriers, he’ll reassure you that he’ll tell you someday…when he’s ready. You believe him and drop the subject.

He doesn’t buy flowers often. He doesn’t believe in materialistic things as a way to express feelings for someone. Instead, he’ll help you cook dinner, clean without you asking him to, rub your feet (this is very rare), or agree to watch your favorite movie over and over and over again.

It takes a while to get really intimate with him. You would think that a man like Booker would be into one night stands, but he isn’t into anything like that. The man looks away when you change in front of him lol.

When he does warm up to sex, it’s very awkward at first, but then the two of you get used to each other and you are able to make that physical connection with another.

After you had sex for the first time, Booker changed. He was a bit more comfortable with being touchy, but he still had his limits.

» Married life:

The way he proposed was extremely simple: he cooked you dinner and popped the question. You had been dating for about five years, but even then the question took you by surprise. You obviously said yes.

Don’t expect extravagant dates. He didn’t like any attention on him, so he preferred cozy nights in, but he’d occasionally take you to a fancy restaurant if you begged him.

He’s a lot more helpful with chores than you thought. He’ll do his laundry, take out the trash, sweep, etc., all without a complaint. But he works in silence. He doesn’t talk to you when he’s cleaning, so you don’t bother him. If you have something to say, you wait until he’s finished.

You two fight often. The only way he knows how to express his feelings is through anger. He’s very hotheaded, stubborn, and closed minded. You can’t ever get through to him without screaming at the top of your lungs.

There had been multiple nights where he slept on the couch or you spent the night with a friend just because the two of you couldn’t stand to be around each other. But then you’d both calm down and forgive each other, but the issue wouldn’t be resolved. Booker only saw things his way, and you only saw things yours.

He doesn’t want kids…at least for a while. He doesn’t think he’d be a good father no matter how much you tell him otherwise. He’s scared of losing not only you, but his own flesh and blood god forbid his past catches up to him and something happens.

Divorce has been talked about a few times. He got so tired of your prying, how much you wanted to know about his past, and you got tired of how mean he could be when he argued with you.

But then you looked at each other…you realized how much you loved each other. The two of you may not work your problems out, but at the end of the day, bur marriage was perfect. The good just outweighed the bad in your eyes, even if it wasn’t exactly true.

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I now have two bioshock tattoos lol.

#bioshock #bioshock infinite #booker dewitt #bioshock fanfiction #booker dewitt x reader

[bookerdewittsstuff]

I’m alive. More stuff coming soon 😈

[bookerdewittsstuff]

More for you fools

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Playing bioshock infinite again…for the ten millionth time 🙁

#bioshock #bioshock infinite #booker dewitt

[bookerdewittsstuff]

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE • ハウルの動く城 2004 | dir. Hayao Miyazaki

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Booker missed you…a lot.

more modern day booker.

CW: Booker being aggressive (in a good way), sub! reader, very dom! booker, afab reader, barely any aftercare, unprotected sex, rough sex, slight degradation, slight praise, pet names, creampie, cussing, fwb relationship. think that’s it, MDNI! PLEASE!!!!!!

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It felt like weeks since he’d last seen you, even though it had only been just a few days. he was off doing God knows what, leaving you behind wondering where he went. you knew that since you weren’t in an official relationship, you weren’t really entitled to know his whereabouts, but that doesn’t mean you can’t worry your heart out. the two of you had an interesting relationship, no labels but he’d spend the whole night with you in your bed and then leave in the early hours of the morning. when he was stressed, you’d let him use you in any way he wanted to, and then he wouldn’t talk to you for a few days, with the cycle repeating itself very often. technically, this would be a friends with benefits kind of relationship, but neither of you talked about it.

Tonight, you’d been doing chores around your little apartment. you had just gotten home from work a few hours prior, being forced to work overtime at the local emergency clinic. funny enough, that was where you met booker. he’d stumbled in after a bar fight gone really wrong. with your hands in the soap filled sink, you jumped a bit with a gasp when you heard the front door slam shut, heavy footsteps following the startling noise until you saw the dark outline of the man you had just been thinking about.

“booker? what on earth are you doing here?” you questioned, turning your body slightly to face him with your hands still in the water. he didn’t speak, didn’t even give himself time to speak before he was making his way over to you. his cold hands grabbed at your waist, turning you around and pushing your lower back against the counter, subsequently pulling your hands out of the sink.

“missed you so much, you have no idea.” he sighed, his large hands pulling up your sleep shirt and exposing your warm skin to the cooler air in your apartment and his cold hands. this time, he didn’t give you time to speak before his face was buried in the space between your neck and shoulder, and you felt his warm breath fanning across your skin before the feeling of his kisses took over.

the chills sent down your spine seemed to affect your speech because you struggled to get out your question, “booker what are you-“

“shut up. just shut up.” he groaned, pulling his head away from you and turning you around, shoving your front against the counter instead. he raised your shirt up and bunched it in his fist at your lower back. “been thinking about fucking you all week, can’t wait any longer.” he spoke, his mouth right against your ear, the chills returning.

“i’m trying to clean…” you said pathetically, knowing that, in the end, booker would get what he wanted, he always got what he wanted when it came to you. the sound that came out of his mouth was a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “so then clean, i’m not stopping you.” he replied.

you gulped and nodded, dipping your hands back into the soapy water to grab another dish. his free hand left your hip momentarily, and the sound of the zipper on his pants exposed what he was doing. you sighed, trying to calm your beating heart. you weren’t scared or anything but booker always had a way of making you nervous, in a good or bad way you weren’t sure.

his hand finally returned to your skin, but not for long as he grabbed the hem of your underwear and yanked them down, fully exposing you to him even in the dim kitchen. you felt his calloused fingers between your thighs and you sighed as he gathered the slick that had been pooling in your underwear the moment he first touched you.

“god.” he mumbled, “i can’t wait any longer, keep doing those damn dishes.” he said and just two seconds later, you felt the pressure of his tip at your entrance, and about one second later, he pushed all the way in with one thrust. he really meant it when he couldn’t wait any longer because he set a brutal pace almost immediately. he usually liked to go slow, but it was obvious that he needed to let out some very pent up frustration, and you were secretly more than happy to provide that release for him.

“o-ow! booker, slow down!” you whined, almost dropping the glass plate you had in your hand, but you clutched it tighter when you felt the squeeze of his own hand against the back of your neck keeping you in place for him. “shh, what’d i say? keep doing those goddamn dishes, okay baby? you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this, waiting to hear your little whines and to feel you squeezing against me so fucking tight. just give it to me, please.” he said between labored breaths and groans.

as if to prove a point, you instinctively squeezed around him solely at the sound of his voice, and the fact that he was so desperate for you and you only. you moaned at the mere thought of him constantly thinking about you while he was out doing whatever it was that he did. “fuck.” you whined and resumed what you had been trying to do before he interrupted you.

your hands shakily scrubbed and rinsed the plate and then set it on the rack next to you to dry, all while mustering up all the strength in your body to keep hold of the slippery dishes. booker had no care in the world about your dishes, in fact, if you broke one he probably wouldn’t even stop, at the rate he was going he’d probably laugh it off and fuck you harder.

“taking me so fucking well, aren’t you? you can never say no to me even when you’re doing your boring little chores. you feel so good, fuck fuck fuck, just like that.” he groaned, his upper body now caged around yours, with his hand now wrapped around the front of your neck instead of the back. he didn’t squeeze enough to fully choke you, mostly to just keep you tight against his chest.

“such a whore, all for me right?” he asked and you nodded frantically, “yes booker! y-yes i’m your whore.” you all but shouted, the feeling of him fucking you so hard you couldn’t think straight mixed with the effort to focus on your chore overwhelmed you more than you had ever been in your entire life, but in the best way possible. “such a good girl, fuck ‘m gonna cum inside you-gonna fill you up.” he rambled, and you whined and dropped the next dish you were holding, completely giving up your focus on those damn dishes.

his grunting got louder and his grip got tighter, signaling that he was very close. “p-please, cum inside…i need it, want it so bad.” you begged, turning your head slightly to look back at him, his jaw clenched and his eyes on you. “god you’re so fucking pretty, prettiest girl i’ve ever seen, even when i’m fucking you dumb you’re still gorgeous.”

there was something about his praise that sent you over the edge, maybe the fact that he was giving you the sweetest compliments while simultaneously treating you like a rag doll. but nonetheless, you came, very hard, around booker, clenching and unclenching around him with your mouth dropped open in a silent scream and your eyebrows furrowed.

“fuck fuck, keep looking at me, that’s it.” he grunted and the coil finally snapped. he let out a loud moan, his hips stilling and completely pressed against your ass. you felt his cum spill inside you, his forehead resting against your shoulder trying to catch his breath.

the only noise in the kitchen was the rhythmic sound of your breathing mixed with booker’s pants. after what seemed like forever, he pulled out completely with a sigh, his cum spilling out of you in the process. he took a moment to enjoy the sight before letting go of your throat and grabbing a clean dish towel to clean you up. he pulled your shirt down and turned you to face him.

“i really did miss you.” he spoke, his voice slightly hoarse from the previous activities. you only nodded, now focusing on keeping yourself upright and trying to prevent your legs from giving out on you. he seemed to notice because he reached around and pulled the drain from the sink, picked you up, and carried you upstairs to the shower without a word.

by the time you had awoken in the morning, your bed and apartment were completely empty, the only sign of his presence being the bruises on your hips, the ache between your thighs, and the leftover dirty dishes in the sink. nothing new. it made you question how much he really missed you.

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i did have a lil angst fic i wanted to post, but booker’s voice does something to me sometimes 😨. anyway, hopefully i’ll start writing about more characters!!!

#bioshock #bioshock fanfiction #bioshock infinite #booker dewitt #booker dewitt x reader

[bookerdewittsstuff]

booker dewitt enemies to lovers hcs part 2!

CW!: MORE MISOGYNY, BOOKER STILL BEING A LOSER ASSHOLE (he makes up for it), CREEPY COMMENTS FROM JEREMIAH FINK DIRECTED TOWARDS READER, READER ALMOST DYING, BLOOD, GORE, MENTIONS OF GUNS, FIGHTING. YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME!

I think the bioshock fandom is dying, either that or nobody wants to read bioshock fanfiction…but anyway.

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- you’d finally made it to finkton, arguably the worst part of columbia. the sad faces of the overworked laborers and the constant voice of fink over the loud speaker made your skin crawl. but it was necessary to find chen lin’s guns for daisy fitzroy.

- after booker fought off multiple firemen, police officers, and those creepy raven guys, fink finally showed his ugly, smug face.

- you’d met fink a few times, needing specific parts for your machines, and during every meeting, he never failed to make you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. how a man could make a woman feel uncomfortable in a dress that reached her ankles with a coat on top blew your mind.

- as soon as fink’s eyes landed on you, his face contorted into someone of a snide smirk, immediately beginning his antics.

- “oh, so you’re a traitor now, hm? be weary of this one, mr dewitt, turn your back and she’ll probably stab it. or her clothes will be off.” he chuckled at his last comment, thinking he was so sly. “let me guess, she’s been leading you through columbia? i’m surprised she hasn’t made an advance on you.”

- you were furious, as one would be, as you stepped forwards towards fink, mostly letting your anger think for you. he raised his gun at you, finger ready at the trigger, squeezing ever so slightly before seeing the sudden flash and a horrendous bang tore through the air and the searing pain of something indescribable.

- elizabeth screamed out and you only realized that fink had shot you after you felt a warm, burning sensation in your side. the sight of the gaping hole in your side and the blood rushing out made you faint, elizabeth quick to catch you as the world faded out.

- you weren’t exactly sure what was happening around you, you could hear the gunfire and yelling, and elizabeth’s heavy breathing over you as she tried her best to fix you up with what she had.

- you regained consciousness after feeling the pricking sensation of something being poured over your face. you coughed a few times and your eyes opened. the liquid on your face was ice cold water that elizabeth had somehow snagged.

- “oh my god, jesus christ, i thought you were dead.” you heard a voice to your right, and you thought it was elizabeth, but as you came to your senses, you quickly realized the voice was way too deep to belong to a woman.

- “booker?” your voice was barely even there, too weak from the amount of bleeding you endured to even try to speak clearly.

- booker actually froze, it was the first time you’d said his first name. usually, you addressed him as “mr dewitt” or “sir” or mostly “idiot” but hearing his first name come from your mouth gave him some sense of overwhelming feeling he didn’t exactly enjoy or understand. of course he pushed it down.

- “uh..yeah yeah it’s me. are you alright?” he asked, not entirely sure of what to say. you didn’t know this yet but fink and every single one of his men were brutally killed in piles around the three of you, the evidence of their deaths apparent on booker’s face, clothes, and hands.

- “seriously booker? she gets shot and you ask her if she’s alright?” elizabeth scolded and shook her head with an incredulous look. he just glanced at her with a grimace.

- you’d grown tired of their bickering already, your body and mind very clearly exhausted in so many ways, but the journey wasn’t over yet. you reached down to the wound and found a bandage. you figured it would hold up until you could actually go home…wherever that happened to be now that columbia was destroyed and mostly deserted.

- you sat up with a hiss and a slight groan, the pain not as unbearable as you thought it would be. whatever elizabeth used was definitely doing it’s job.

- the three of you resumed your journey and unbeknownst to you, booker’s eyes stayed on you the entire time. he was worried, scared, and on edge more than usual. he kept telling himself it was because you were now more of a liability than you’d ever been, but it was very clearly something else.

-so, when the three of you decided to rest for a few minutes in a local restaurant, booker pulled you to the side while elizabeth went off to do god knows what.

- “listen..uh..i’m glad you’re okay. would’ve sucked if you had died back there.” he said, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact while he watched your face contort into a mix between a frown and shock.

-“you are very confusing mr dewitt, you know that? first you tell me you’d very gladly put me in danger to save the girl, and now that i’ve almost died you’re worried?” you accused.

-“no! no i’m not worried i’m just-i was just saying-what i meant to sa-yes fine! goddamnit i was worried. jesus i was terrified that you were going to die.” he confessed and you wanted to smile in victory.

-“hmm, okay mr dewitt.” was all you said, which pissed him off the smallest bit.

- “that’s it? jesus, let me tell you something, okay? this entire trip you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass, always proving to me how intelligent you are, and i hate you for that. i hate that you’re always right and you rub it in my face in the most subtle ways. i hate that you know columbia like the back of your hand and i’m left guessing where we’re supposed to go next after i piss you off and you refuse to help me anymore. i hate tha-“

- booker’s rant was cut off with a kiss. you’d actually just kissed him. he didn’t know how to react, the kiss was so quick and sudden it genuinely caught him off guard.

- you finally pulled away. “i liked it better when you were quiet.” you said with a hint of a smile on your face. you thought you’d given booker a heart attack the way he had the same shocked expression on his face, with nothing coming from his mouth, until he finally spoke.

- “i hate all those things about you, but i don’t hate you. i-i don’t know how i feel about you. you bring out the worst in me and i love every second of it.”

- you wanted to laugh, but it hurt to even breathe, so you settled on a slightly bigger smile. “i get that a lot.”

-“we should get moving again..” there was something else he wanted to say, but he held back.

- you hoped that when this journey was finally over you’d be able to piss him off some more.

#bioshock #bioshock fanfiction #bioshock infinite #booker dewitt #booker dewitt x reader

[bookerdewittsstuff]

RAPTURE + SIGNS

[bookerdewittsstuff]

Enemies to Lovers with Booker Dewitt HCs part one.

(this is not canon but it follows characters from the storyline) this is a very long one, i know hcs are supposed to be sweet and short but i got carried away. this is mostly the reader’s backstory and the enemies part. enjoy.

CW: MENTIONS OF MISOGYNY, BLOOD, KILLING AND BOOKER BEING A COMPLETE LOSER ASSHOLE, READER HATES RELIGION AND EXPRESSES IT. not proofread, ignore any mistakes 😇

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- Working for a world renowned physicist such as Rosalind Lutece, and her male counterpart, Robert, had its pros. For example, you were paid well, you learned something new every day, you were treated as a high class individual, and you felt like you had a purpose.

- Working for a world renowned physicist such as Rosalind Lutece also had its cons. you worked in dangerous environments with dangerous chemicals and machines, your tedious work kept you from socializing, and you couldn’t afford to make any mistakes ever. all of those you could handle. there was just one con that absolutely turned your life upside down.

- you met Ms. Lutece before Columbia was even built, before Comstock had even thought of the idea of a city in the sky. you went to school together, played in the streets after dark together, dreamed of a big future together. The two of you were basically inseparable. She wanted to be a physicist and you wanted to go into mechanical engineering. the two of you knew exactly how hard it was for women to get ahead in your desired careers, or to even go to college at all. this didn’t stop either of you, you worked through your primary and secondary years proving yourselves that you were capable of achieving these dreams.

- although your college years were probably the worst years of your life due to misogyny and discrimination, you were extremely grateful and lucky to have graduated in the late 1800s as a woman with an engineering degree. after graduation passed, you weren’t exactly sure what to do now. nobody was going to hire a woman, even if you did graduate top of your class.

- when lutece was invited to Columbia, she demanded that you come with her. she explained that this man, who claimed to be a prophet, had built a city in the sky, and wanted her to work for him on a very secretive project. she told you that she explained to him that you were a mechanical engineer, and anything she needed built you could build. you didn’t have anything holding you back anymore, and you couldn’t deny that you were extremely interested in the mechanical aspect of a floating city in the sky in the 1900s.

-off you two went, you moved to the city in the sky and set up shop. you never personally met the man who claimed to be a prophet, but your life pretty much revolved around his project. you and rosalind, and later robert, spent years researching, experimenting, etc. until you could finally start building the proper machines.

- that was many years ago. it was now 1912, and hell had broken loose in what many considered to be their own slice of heaven. the “false shepherd” had arrived in columbia, with his motive to “lead the lamb astray”. you never believed any of that propaganda. you were a very analytical woman, never believing in religion because it just didn’t make sense to you. facts were facts, and religion lacked a lot of facts. but you kept that to yourself because you were grateful for the opportunity of living in such an advanced place, even if the residents were a bit on a naive side.

- once you found out that this feared false shepherd was a man named booker dewitt from down below, you almost wanted to laugh. from first glance, he looked pretty normal, a bit rugged sure, but relatively normal.

- it surprised you to find out you’d be leading the false shepherd through columbia. this wasn’t your choice, it was rosalind’s decision, which surprised you even more because this woman was working for the prophet, the man who instilled fear in the minds of the citizens of columbia about the very man she wanted you to help.

- you were very hesitant to say the least. you didn’t want to lose your life helping a man you didn’t even know. but you trusted your best friend, so you agreed.

- the first time you met booker, he was a complete jerk. he insured that you knew he was in charge, despite the fact that you had lived in columbia and he had just arrived not even hours ago. every off handed comment he made about you being a woman in engineering made you bite your tongue and recite in your head that you were doing this for rosalind, not him.

- other than giving him directions and the occasional heads up that an enemy was approaching, you didn’t speak. he did the fighting, you did the navigating. you never once got a thank you, or any kind of gratitude on his end.

- when you did begin to converse more, it was mostly bickering.

- “mr. dewitt, i’m telling you that this way is safer. if we cut thr-“

- “listen lady, i don’t care if that way is safer. my way is much faster, and the faster we get elizabeth to this damn airship, the sooner we can go our separate ways. understand? who’s the one who does all the fighting while you stand there with your head up your ass? yeah, thought so. we’re going this way.”

- booker interrupted you a lot. he also challenged your self defense skills, as well as your competence. that man honestly made your eye twitch and your heart rate increase in the worst way possible. but you were doing this for rosalind.

- you didn’t even like looking at him. he always had this scowl on his face, like the world had beaten him down until he was reduced to nothing. underneath, there was a sadness that he tried not to show. but every time elizabeth was taken from the two of you, he freaked out more than he should, considering how much he boasts about his combat skills.

- one time, he had almost gotten you killed, using you as involuntary bait to distract an enemy. that was your last straw.

- “mr. dewitt, listen to me when i talk to you. you are a pathetic excuse for a man. what kind of man throws a woman, who is helping him might i add, into direct danger? i have done absolutely nothing for you to treat me this way. if anything, i have ensured all of our safety. you are destroying people’s homes, and for what? i don’t know. if not for me, you would be dead by now. i’ll give it to you, you’re a damn good fighter, but goddamnit i am the one who is fucking helping you!”

- with a gasp you covered your mouth. what kind of a lady uses fuck? only the germans used that word and if your mom had been around she’d make sure your bottom was bruised for weeks.

- his reaction didn’t surprise you. you had scolded him right after he killed about a dozen cops, and a few firemen. blood all over his ragged clothes and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his gun in one hand.

- he just stared at you and scoffed. “alright lady. listen here, i don’t know who you are or why you’re supposed to be helping me, but i’m required to do whatever is necessary to make sure elizabeth is safe. not you. so if that means putting you in danger, i won’t hesitate. ” and then he and elizabeth walked away with you reluctantly trailing behind them a few moments later. it dawned on you that he did not care about you or your opinions on him, or even your safety.

- you were just about ready to murder him yourself and collect the generous reward that comstock was offering. but you were doing this for lutece. and comstock had already considered you a traitor as well.

- the mindless bickering continued.

- “mr. dewitt if you keep talking, somebody is going to hear you. i advise you to be as quiet as possible.”

- “then you should stop talking as well, lady. your shrill voice is a lot more noticeable than mine is.”

- “you are putting us all in danger! we are not going that way!”

-“i don’t know how many times i have to tell you. i. am. in. charge. you either follow me or die, choice is yours.”

- elizabeth decided to never get caught in the crossfire, no matter how many times she wanted to scold booker for treating a woman so disrespectfully.

- it wasn’t until meeting jeremiah fink when booker revealed his true thoughts about you.

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*dj khalid voice* anotha one 😈

#bioshock #bioshock fanfiction #bioshock infinite #booker dewitt #booker dewitt x reader #elizabeth comstock