A/N: ONHONHONHONHON. Guess what's heeereee?THATS RIGHT. A MOTHAFRIGGINLEMON. So I said I would be posting a double update.
Well, hopefully in a few days chapter 12 will be up for all of you who aren't too comfortable with lemons.
ALSO announcement time. This story is now top priority since we are starting to get into the epic finale. The face off with fink and the cirque!
So if you are reading one of my other stories, those shall be on temporary hiatus until this is done.
ALSO -jumps on the Jack x Reader bandwagon-
So enjoy your time with everyone's favourite trash dad
He tastes like cheap whiskey. It's the first thing to pass through your mind as your lips move against one another. The next thought is how warm you feel inside, like someone had trapped the embers of a fire and sprinkled them under your skin. Instinctively, you bring your hands up around Booker's broad back and sigh against his lips. One of his hands travels up behind your neck and you wince away, feeling the stinging brush burns from the rope.
"Sorry." He apologizes and steps away, taking your wrists in his hands and looks at the angry red rashes. He exhales sharply and brings his gaze up to yours.
"Let's go get you patched up."
You huff and nod, not attempting to move from his grasp as he leads you back to the Monument Hotel.
The entire lobby is silent since it's the middle of the night. The only one there is the secretary who covers her mouth with a hand as she gasps from your disheveled state.
"Oh my! Were you caught in that attack?! Oh I thought this place was safe..." She trailed off in worried rambling. Word travels fast up in the sky. Booker lightly pulls you into step once more as you make your way to the elevator.
The night-shift elevator boy glances at the two of you and smiles, "Which floor?"
"Fifth." Your companion grunts and places a hand on your stomach as you begin to keel forward. You shift your weight onto his strong arm and regain balance. The boy gives a weary look as he pulls the lever, sending the elevator up.
The two of you stumble out of the small space and head down the hall to the suite. With a click of the lock, the door creaks open and Booker helps you inside. He leads you to the closest room.
Your companion helps sit you down on the edge of his bed, "Alright, let's see what those bastards did…" He closely inspects your wrists, slowly rolling his thumbs against them; sparks flew under your skin from the simple motion.
"They aren't broken." You mutter, "They didn't really hurt me…They just…" You trail off and bring a hand to your stomach. The bones of your corset press hard against your ribs, you don't remember tightening it so taught. You attempt to unlace it, but your arms ache in defiance. Another slightly dissatisfied groan passes your lips as you struggle to fumble with the laces.
"Here…" Booker offers and takes a spot behind you, not willing to move you in such an exhausted state. You feel his hands run over your shoulders and down your back, fire trailing behind his touches. Booker hisses at the sight of the multitude of bruises and you groan at the discomfort, but your companion keeps on and almost proficiently unties the laces. The stiff material and metal bones creak and nearly pop open, you gasp and slump over.
Shuffling slightly, you remove the garment and hear Booker mutter something under his breath.
"What was that?" You hum, and push yourself to sit up. A hand traces over the wounds you had received over the course of this week. Sparks fly under your skin as he trails against the scarring lacerations from the alleyway brawl. You hear him swallow thickly as his hands tense at your shoulders, slowly massaging out the tight muscles. You wince and he draws away with a quick "sorry".
"No no…" You utter and unhook the front of your corset, allowing it to fall to the floor with a soft thud, "It's fine; you just caught me off guard is all."
Booker hesitantly resumes massaging your shoulders, he's so gentle as he kneads your muscles "Look I…I'm sorry…I didn't think you woul—"
"Enough…" You cut him off and lean against his grip, "What happened is over now, and we both made it out alive. So no worries. You turn around and resituate yourself, staring your companion straight in the eye, scanning over his expression.
He bites his lip and twitches a brow, you notice his gaze drop lower and lower. His face grows bright red and you hear his breath hitch.
"U-uh…(name) you're uh…e-exposed…" He musters out and averts his eyes. A soft snicker passes your lips. With everything that's happened, you don't care anymore.
"I think you've seen far worse." The air thickens with tension as Booker rises to meet your eyes once more, "Better yet, you've probably done worse."
The ex-Pinkerton's eyes darken slightly and his posture relaxes, "You assume right. How do you do that?"
You smile and cup his face in your hands, "Your eyes, your face, your skin, everything you do tells a story." Booker drops a hand to your waist and leans in, planting a soft kiss against your lips.
"Then what did that tell you?" He says in a half whisper.
"That you haven't been this close to a woman in a long time." You gaze deep into his eyes, analyzing the rising fire behind them, a spark of longing reflects against his green irises and you feel everything inside you swirl together. It had been forever since someone had looked at you like that.
You lean forward and press against the ex-investigator, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently once more. He still tastes like cheap whiskey. You feel his hand on your hip begin to trace small circles against your skin while the other tousles into your (length), (colour) hair, deepening the kiss. His tongue grazes against your bottom lip and you gladly grant him access. The taste of whiskey grows stronger and perhaps spending enough time like this would be enough to get you drunk. But soon the both of you break for air and you feel heat building inside you.
Booker however, becomes unreadable. His eyes seem to glaze and his face goes back to its stoic normality. He stays like that for a moment or two before cracking a slight grin and chuckling out the phrase "well damn". Your companion rises from his spot and shrugs off his vest.
"So, you say skin tells a story?" He inquires as he unbuttons his dress shirt to reveal a plethora of scars and scrapes, bruises and bumps, all scattered over a stocky, muscled chest. Your pulse races and you feel yourself begin to tremble. You notice that same endearing look, subtly dashed with some sort of hunger.
"I'd say you're a novel." You smile as he leans over you. With shaking hands, you cup his face once more and kiss over his cheeks, nose, and finally his lips.
He advances and slides the two of you farther onto the sheets. His one hand rests between your shoulder blades as the other moves to his belt.
You hear the clattering of the buckle and you freeze. Your side aches as a memory of years past flashes through your thoughts. Booker senses this and abruptly stops. His green eyes lock onto your (colour) ones and flicker apologetically.
"We probably...uh-"
"No...It's alright...No use living in the past." You pull him down and massage a hand through his messy brown hair. With your other hand, you run your fingers down the crevasses of his chest, feeling his muscles twitch under your touch. A faint warmth spreads inside your belly as you watch the sparks behind your companion's eyes come to life. He moves his hand from your back to your shoulder then down your chest, pausing for a moment at the subtle swell of your breast. His breath catches in his throat before he resumes exploring your skin.
You all but shudder under his touch as his fingers trail over the rough patch of skin from your scar, but he doesn't stop. Booker collects the fabric of your skirt and slides his hand up your thigh.
"W-wait..." You whisper, pressing your hand against his chest, telling him to get up. He obliges and you sit up. You unbuckle the knife sheath around your upper thigh and place it on the night stand, "That could have been bad."
He laughs and sits up next to you, "Yeah, that would really ruin it." then he kisses the crook of your neck, causing you to gasp softly as his stubble scratches against your skin. His hands return to their positions, one on your hip, the other resting on your thigh. He slowly moves the hand on your thigh inwards and you graze your hand over his.
You fumble with the loose belt around his hips and listen to it clatter as it hits the floor. You tuck a hand into his waist band and run your fingers along his hips. Booker moans against your skin and wriggles his fingers under the leg of your undergarments. He curses softly as he withdraws his fingers and moves to the buttons of the bloomer-shorts. But they don't budge and you hear him swear again. He leans back and squints. You giggle at his expression and pull at his waistband.
"Hold on..." He pushes off his slacks and his boxers, "There."
Your face heats up and you scoot off the bed, so you can remove what's left of your clothing as well.
You slide out of your skirt and finger the buttons of your own undergarment, suddenly feeling embarrassed and excited at the same time. It had been so long since you had felt this way about someone. But you push past the embarrassment and undo the buttons, revealing the rest of yourself to your companion in the pale light of the moonbeams streaming through the blinds.
Booker lightly grabs your wrist and pulls you on top of him, so that you're straddling his hips. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He kisses your lips and rolls his hips against yours, making you moan into the kiss. You feel his stiff member press against your folds and send chills down your spine as you gasp again. He leans you back onto the soft comforter and rolls his hips once more.
You relish in the way he feels against you, how he's gentle despite his rugged exterior. He trails a hand back down your side and softly rubs the inside of your thigh. His fingers make their way to your heat and slide about your opening. You gasp against his lips as he delves a finger within. Your hips buck against his hand as he explores the inside of your womanhood. He slid another finger in and started curling and uncurling the digits. Then he rubs over that bundle of nerves that has your mewling and gasping. The space between your legs almost feels like it's on fire as your companion continues. It had been so long since you felt this good.
He slowly withdraws his fingers and you whine, breaking the kiss. Booker looks down at you and smiles before replanting his lips on your breast. You jolt under the action and mesh your fingers through his hair. The ex-investigator lightly bites at the soft skin, leaving small marks. You scrape your nails down his back and exhale sharply.
Your companion moves back onto your lips and positions himself at your entrance.
"You...sure about this?" He asks between breaths, one hand stroking your cheek. You nod and wrap your arms back around his neck.
With a thrust, Booker pushes inside and you take his length generously. He slowly begins to pump, his member throbbing against your inner walls. You feel sweat already collecting on your skin as he thrusts in and out. Every motion has you panting and gasping for more. You move against him, adding more pleasant friction. A satisfying warmth spreads through you like wildfire as knots tangle in your core.
You scratch against his broad back and bite at his neck, listening to him breathe your name shakily. He hooks a hand under your leg and pulls it up slightly, giving him a new angle. You scream his name as the knots become painfully tight. Booker increases his pace and attacks your nerves. Every thrust has you wriggling and trembling in utter euphoria.
You hear him cry out your name as he suddenly releases, it's enough to send you over the edge as the tension inside you snaps as well and all your heat spills. The two of you gasp deeply, catching your breaths as Booker pulls out and falls next to you. His messy brown hair is slicked to his face with sweat and you lazily push it away. He pulls you into an embrace and rubs his hands against your back. You grab the disheveled sheets and pull them over the two of you.
"Hah...damn it's been too long..." He breathily laughs and buries his face in the crook of your neck.
You wriggle closer and press up against him, "Thank you..." you sigh and entwine your legs with his, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Booker is already fast asleep, softly snoring, arms wrapped around your waist.
You don't care if the whole police force is now looking for you, that everything is going to hell. All that matters now is the man next to you, and how after all these years, you found someone who cares. A smile spreads across your face and you kiss his forehead.
Within moments, you fall asleep as well.
Sooooo, how are you doin?
Good? I hope so.
See ya next chapter!