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To Belong	By : BringtheHawt Category: +A through F > Bioshock Views: 20676 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the bioshock franchise or any of its characters. I am not attempting to make any money off of writing/sharing this.

Chapter List
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Elizabeth had remained outside the lighthouse, unable to watch Booker's unwitting sacrifice. She was keenly aware of Comstock's disappearance from time itself; erased from countless destinies.
She waited for release.
...
None came.
"I ... still exist," she whispered to herself, tugging at the sleeve of her own dress. Elizabeth had fully expected to blink from existence, along with many of her parallel sisters. Perhaps it was that unique ability of hers. Had her fully realized power allowed her to transcend time itself?
Her survival felt quite disconcerting. She wasn't sure if she wanted to remain, knowing that her version of Dewitt would no longer recognize her properly as Elizabeth. Anna, of course, remained ... but every Elizabeth had vanished into nothingness, much like Comstock. She was the one to break the cycle, but the achievement had left her standing outside one of millions of lighthouses, alone ... with no version of Dewitt, Comstock or Songbird to acknowledge her.
With her survival, she harbored the only evidence of Comstock's prophetic obsessions and Booker's wretched betrayal: memories.
"I don't belong anywhere anymore ... " as tears formed in topaz-colored eyes.
Two familiar voices emerged from behind her.
"Correct," said Rosalind, "you belong no where."
"Incorrect," refuted Robert, "you belong anywhere."
She turned to confront the two insufferably odd siblings.
"It is within your power to choose" Rosalind declared, "a type of decision we are quite familiar with."
"A type of decision we are rather intimate with."
"What sort of decision will you make, with such power?"
"What sort of decision would he make, if he had such power?"
Elizabeth's gaze locked onto Robert, after that last cryptic comment. She imagined there was a hint of a smile on his face, but couldn't be sure.
ooooooooooo
ooooooooooo
Elizabeth manifested a tear within his apartment. Yes, him. She had always been hopelessly drawn to him, ever since the first day of their reunion in Columbia.
Though she, of course, anticipated the poor condition of said apartment, it still managed to surprise her. Some unclean dishes, scattered papers, a floor that probably hadn't been washed in a year. Various beer cans, some half-full, some empty. Sparse, cheap furniture
Elizabeth could hear Dewitt, who remained unaware of her presence, singing softly to ... Anna, in the next room. The prodigal leaned against his desk, listening to his song. He certainly didn't make for a very good singer, she decided.
Eventually, DeWitt discreetly stepped out of Anna's room, wishing his daughter would stay asleep. The sight of the pretty, dark-haired intruder made him pause.
Elizabeth sighed softly, at him. She had known he'd be drunk prior to producing the tear to this plane of existence, but seeing it in person still ... hurt. DeWitt was a failure of a father behind many, many doors. She keenly understood that the man was deeply flawed; denying Comstock's existence did not free Booker of the violent sins of the past, nor did it ward off his heart-gnawing nightmares.
"Listen, miss ... you clearly have the wrong apartment," Dewitt incorrectly informed her.
"You're bleeding, Mr. DeWitt," she murmured softly.
Booker touched the skin above his own lip to confirm her words.
Elizabeth stepped to him, removing a handkerchief from her dress, to dab at the drops of blood on his face. She briefly mused over how handsome he was ... it was especially hard to ignore now that she had witnessed parallels were they had developed sensual relationships.
"Miss ... how'd you get into my apartment?" Though he found this stranger's boldness rather odd, he ultimately couldn't complain about a beautiful girl gently touching his face.
"I picked the lock," a playful lie. She folded the handkerchief and replaced it in the pocket of her skirt.
"Miss ... is the bruise on your face a result of your ... blatant disregard for other people's personal property?" The detective kept his tone soft to make it clear he wasn't making some sort of subtle threat ... Booker was simply trying to imagine a situation where one could justify striking such a pretty, petite lady.
Elizabeth made a silent prayer: Remember me ...
"I saved you from millions of tragic destinies, Mr. DeWitt," taking another step forward, standing within inches of him, "have you truly forgotten me? Have you forgotten what gave me this bruise? Have you forgotten ... " as she lifted her thimble-encased pinky upward, "how I got this?"
"Who are you?" Booker breathed, bemused.
After months of pining for DeWitt, the confused look on his face felt like a vicious betrayal. Elizabeth's anger flared irrationally, and she suddenly found the scent of alcohol on his breath particularly unforgivable.
"You don't deserve her ... "
" ... What?"
"Are you doomed to fail Anna again? Look at you ... so incredibly selfish. Not a single child's toy in this pathetic little apartment but apparently an ample supply of liquor."
The ex-soldier's expression hardened as suspicious anger stirred within him. Why does she know Anna's name ... ? What is she even talking about?
"I'm going have to ask you to leave, miss," he announced firmly.
"Ask all you like," she challenged rebelliously, "I'm staying."
Frustrated, Booker's hand snapped forward with surprising speed, fixing a firm hold on her wrist. Elizabeth had nearly ripped open a tear to flee into. Remarkable self-control had kept her from doing so, but she couldn't conceal her desperate, worried look. It was such a twist: before achieving her full powers, Booker had been the only man she ever trusted to protect her ... now he was the only man capable of harming her.
The sight of her expression forced a pause from Booker, but his anger persisted.
"I forgot about your inclination toward violence, Mr. DeWitt," she softly spoke the accusation.
"I'm not going to hurt you-"
"-this hurts ... "
"-Just want you to go.-"
"-This hurts." Not the hand on her wrist, of course, but this rejection. Booker mistakenly assumed she meant the apparent bruising on her body, forcing the brute's heart to soften. It was something about those blue eyes gazing into his own. He realized they looked just like his daughter's, only ...
"You ... shouldn't have eyes like that. You're too young to have eyes like that," Booker commented gravely, releasing her wrist. Lonely eyes. Eyes that have seen death. Eyes that were too wise, too harsh.
The irony nearly made the pale-skinned enigma laugh. In more ways than one, he had given her such eyes.
"Listen," Booker spoke sympathetically, examining the bruise on her cheek and the tears in her clothes, "I don't recognize you, nor I do not appreciate you barging in here lecturing me about my daughter, but ... you're clearly ... in some kind of trouble. Who hurt you? I can ... make sure it doesn't happen again." She must have come for help, and Booker, even with his new career as a private investigator, had no problem straightening out ... hell, even killing, men who thought it was acceptable to strike a defenseless woman.
There you are ... There's the man who'd protect me ...
"I'm certainly troubled, Mr. DeWitt ... " taking advantage of their close proximity, she lifted her hand to touch his cheek.
Booker wasn't immune to the beautiful girl. That bodice certainly emphasized her enticing body ... and her face was lovely, despite the bruising. Gorgeous eyes and incredible lips. DeWitt imagined those lips on his body ... thinking these months he had spent without a woman's touch were truly beginning to weigh on him.
This girl needs help ... he reminded himself. And she was possibly two full decades younger than him. And he was ... a shell of a man, at best. The stunning beauty deserved better.
"It's fine, if you don't have money ... " as the ex-Pinkerton pulled back from her touch, trying to force lustful thoughts from his mind, "I don't need payment. Just need the man's name and address. I'll fix your problem, then you can be on your way."
Elizabeth wasn't sure if she should be amused or insulted by Booker's assumption that she was attempting to prostitute herself for his services.
"My problem, Booker" grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt, pressing into his body, "is that I don't belong; fix it," before, almost shyly, brushing her lips against his, "please."
oooooooo
Strong arms. Elizabeth may have considered them his most attractive feature. They had effortlessly carried her to his bedroom, laying her down on the bed.
She was quite a gem and DeWitt was determined to thoroughly pleasure her. He licked her neck before moving to kiss the portions of her breasts that peeked out of her bodice. His fingers, at her backside and beneath her blue shawl, began to tug at the strings of the fabric which encased her chest.
A realization caused his hand and mouth to pause: he still didn't know her name.
"What's your name, miss?" looking to her blushing face.
" ... Elizabeth."
"You're beautiful, Elizabeth," he complimented quietly. Booker would never fully understand how fulfilling it was for her to hear him say those words.
Her bodice, shawl and stockings were removed. DeWitt chose to leave the skirt on, for now, finding it enhanced her femininity nicely. It was a delicious image: full breasts, pink nipples and a slender abdomen ... with that dark blue skirt hiding her otherwise bare womanhood. The sight made his prick hard.
"Booker ... " she sighed softly, hands gripping onto his shoulders.
DeWitt lifted her skirt, moving his face to her pick cunny. She nearly asked him to stop, face becoming pink with embarrassment. She chose to hold her tongue, and found the physical rewards of enduring the shame to be well worth it. The ex-soldier alternated between tenderly licking and roughly sucking at her clit. He continued to do this until his gorgeous maiden moaned quietly.
Booker was starting to realize she was rather ... inexperienced. He thought it certainly odd. She had initiated this lustful encounter so brazenly it was difficult to accept her rather modest reaction to his movements. Had they ... met before, as she claimed earlier? Was she acting on a desire that extended beyond his knowledge?
DeWitt stopped playing with her clit to examine her womanly entrance. He used his fingers to spread her cuntlips apart, finding the fleshy evidence of just how inexperienced she was.
"You're a virgin ... " A bit saddened by the truth, actually. He pulled back form her, moving to align their upper bodies back together so he could look into her stunning eyes. "Why do you want this ... with a man like me?" Sinful. Despicable. Significantly older than her and a father on top of that. Also partially drunk. There were many reasons why he should stop this lusty encounter.
"Just continue, Booker," almost angrily, "I've wanted ... this, for longer than you realize."
"You say things that don't make sense. You still think we've met before?"
She pulled her gaze away, staring at his bedroom wall. He continued to look at her, thinking she still managed to be beautiful despite her intensely irritated expression.
" ... You're not going to hate me in the morning, are you? You only get to do this once, Elizabeth ..."
"Please, just ... I want it to be you, Booker," turning to reunite their eyes, she seductively reached her arms around his neck, pulling him close, "no one else. Now, please, I don't want to discuss it anymore."
"This will likely hurt," he told her as he scolded himself mentally, thinking he was about to desecrate an extremely confused virgin. He sighed, kissing that slender neck. The ex-soldier felt Elizabeth's fingers fumbling with the buttons of her vest, perhaps deciding she no longer wanted to be the only one half-naked.
Together they removed his clothes. Elizabeth found herself rather infatuated with his body. Muscular. His tanned skin was peppered with scars. The ultimate compliment to her pale, petite body. Those pretty eyes spared a look at his hardened shaft, wondering how it'd feel pressed inside her. It was Elizabeth's first time seeing one in person, and the mere sight of it caused a stir in her pussy.
"You're staring," he noted. Can't say he wasn't turned on by her blatant lust.
"I want you ... " she whispered.
Booker adjusted her dress skirt and pulled that pretty body into his lap. He began caressing her all over. Her back and arms, her legs and thighs. He spent extra time on her breasts: squeezing them firmly, tugging them lightly. The physically sensitive virgin sighed softly from the sensual stimulation. She occasionally kissed and licked his shoulder, but was passively allowing him to massage her body until she felt warm and pliant.
Elizabeth felt his manhood press between her thighs.
"I'm ready," she urged.
With some position adjusting and prodding, he began to spear into her ridiculously tight canal. Elizabeth attempted to silently endure the meaty intrusion into her body, hoping to avoid discouraging her conflicted lover, but she couldn't hold back a sharp, loud groan. Her body, which DeWitt had worked so wonderfully, now tensed and spasmed around that cockhead lodged inside her.
"Relax," Booker instructed, gritting his teeth. There was a dark moment, a moment where the urge to shove into her wildly and relentlessly was quite powerful, but sensibility and concern quickly returned to him. Still, her womanly grip on his prick made him strain. He was massaging her body again, with a weak hope to steer her toward pleasure.
As the pain of DeWitt's cock ripping open her previously untouched barrier subsided, she noticed the sticky feeling on her thighs. She was very grateful her skirt was left on ... preventing her from seeing the evidence of this first penetration inside her.
"Move ... " She implored.
"You sure?"
"Please."
Booker's prick began to climb deeper inside her. Warm and tight. They both moaned softly when he implanted himself as fully as possible.
"You feel amazing, Elizabeth," he murmured, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of her passage around his engorged dick-length. She squirmed slightly, making his dick twitch.
"Again ... " She commanded softly. He obliged her, starting to pump into her at a smooth pace. He used his arms and hips to facilitate long, consistent thrusts ... and treasured the way this dark-haired beauty gasped and trembled by his movements.
Elizabeth's discomfort finally subsided. She spread her legs as far as possible to take in his delicious, powerful plunges inside her. The dainty woman was now beginning to truly embrace the throes of her climbing pleasure. That fleshy pole pierced her over and over, and an incredible throb was enveloping her pussy. She was moaning repeatedly now, unable to focus on anything but the way her handsome father stuffed himself into her.
Realizing that Elizabeth was now genuinely enjoying the sex, Booker pulled out of her.
"What are you-"
DeWitt interrupted her with a soft hush as he eased her body flat onto the bed. He looked into her eyes, half-lidded and lustful, before firmly shoving his prick inside her. The sweet sound of her gasp encouraged him. Booker gripped the underside of her legs, pulling them upward and began to thrust vigorously into her. This position allowed him to observe the pleasured expressions on her face, as well as the bouncing of her perky, pale breasts ... two equally gorgeous images.
Elizabeth's moist pussy gripped and squeezed him wonderfully. These fast, firm thrusts made her groan wildly. She did the best she could to roll her hips in time with his erotic plunging.
Booker's swollen dick was pulsing in that narrow tunnel. Her eager acceptance of his deep, ravenous pistoning was bringing him close. Their union was incredible, and plugging his prick into her felt like a natural fit. He groaned as his orgasm approached. It was too much to hold back anymore: the confined, sticky feel of her cunt, the way the stunning girl arched with his motions, their groans and pants ...
DeWitt, with a powerful shudder, pulled out of her and burst into the sheets, deciding not lewdly soil her for her first experience.
"Booker ... " She called to him softly ... he briefly thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. DeWitt crawled on top of her, leaning down to tenderly kiss those perfect lips. He decided if this beauty was still in his arms in the morning, he'd use whatever technique needed to make this gorgeous girl cum.
ooooooooooo
Booker had left the room without a word. Elizabeth felt a little confused and hurt by his absence, but smiled when he returned with a small bowl of warm water, soap and a washcloth. Without speaking, DeWitt helped her remove her skirt and began to clean the vestal blood from between her thighs. The action initially made her feel shy, but her guardian touched her so gently that it drove away her anxieties. Booker DeWitt: a man capable of incredible brutality and remarkable tenderness.
Elizabeth briefly wondered if this attraction to him was inappropriate. But perhaps, if you spend your life locked within a tower and away from society, you're no longer subject to the ideas of social norms and deviances.
When he was finished washing her, he returned to the bed, laying on his back. She moved to rest on top of him, pressing her cheek into his chest affectionately.
"Did you seduce me ... because you have no where else to go?" He asked aloud, wrapping an arm around her petite shoulders. He looked down at her body, noting an odd puncture wound in her upper back. He briefly wondered if a relative had been abusing her ...
Elizabeth wondered how he'd react if she touched one of his scars and whispered the words 'Wounded Knee.' Would he believe her, then?
"I don't want to be anywhere else," she responded quietly.
"Such a strange girl," Booker commented, patting her shoulder, "but you can stay as long as you need." He made the offer truly believing she did not feel safe anywhere else. In a sense, he was correct. Still, he couldn't imagine such a young beauty staying too long. He was a lucky dog just to enjoy this single night with her ...
The sound of Anna crying emerged from the other room.
Booker tensed before looking to Elizabeth with a mildly embarrassed look. He considered abandoning a woman so quickly after sex to be an act of poor taste, but ... his daughter needed him.
"I gotta go to her ... "
A stunning smile formed from those pretty lips; she certainly couldn't fault him for making such a decision.
ooooooooooo
Authors Note: Bioshock Infinite was such an excellent game that I felt compelled to write this. I'm interested in making a slightly kinkier chapter two if there's any interest in one! Would love to see some reviews. Thanks for reading.
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To Belong