(no subject)
Title: Warmth
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Bones
Rating: Adult
Character/Pairing: Booth/Brennan
Spoilers: 1.19 The Man In The Morgue
Warnings: Sex.
Summery: Set after the episode.
Notes: This was a originally an fic in sms format for million_moments now typed up into 1436 words.
It meant something. It meant everything, screamed out the very foundations of her relationship with Booth that they had built and since the breakdown of her relationship with her brother she hadn’t found a man to put that much trust in her. Faith. Booth would have faith in her, being Catholic.
She had found, since taking the stand as an expert witness in court, that less and less people trusted her academically. Scientifically. Not because she was ever wrong but because in court people twisted science into something impure that left her feeling a little empty inside.
One earring made all the difference though, not that she wanted to admit it but it was certainly the reason why she was standing outside his door a few hours later, both earrings on and that warm feeling that she usually associated with sex, swirling around in her stomach.
She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t know what to say to a man who trusted her enough to risk his career for her. She knew how passionate a person could be about their work, Booth had certainly shown her his passionate side more than once, but not for her and he had opened his mouth the ask her if she was okay when she leaned forward to kiss him, holding her body apart from him, swallowing his surprise with her lips. The warm feeling intensified and she felt…better, without even realising there had been anything wrong.
“Bones, what the hell.” Booth put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. her moved her aside to bring her into his apartment and close the door, “what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why does something have to be wrong?”
“You’ve have a rough few days. I’m worried about you." She smiled at him and kissed him, pleased to find him move responsive this time, pulling him closer to her.
“Don’t be worried,“ she said, “be passionate,” she said smiling coyly at him. He smiled back, he loved that smiled, couldn’t resist that smile. Not when her body was arched towards him and her lips were red and swollen and somewhere along the line his thought processes gave up on him and he kissed her back and pushed her up against his door frame.
She pushed back with a grunt, growling ‘careful’ at him with a grin on her face still, the warm feeling was spreading and when he stepped back, their lips reconnecting. He began to pull her through his apartment and she had to resist the temptation to look around at his home to get an insight into him.
His body would be insight enough. For now.
In the bedroom he reached into her jacket pocket, his lips on her neck, and pulled out her phone fiddling with it until he could switch it off. He knew she would choose work over him, over sex, he used to be like that. Being a father had changed his priorities a lot, he knew she still had to find that something or someone that would change her priorities. She knew what he had done though, how could she now when his body pressed against his and her jacket as tight as it was? But she let him silence her phone without really knowing why.
The warmth she felt so strongly came from Booth too and she wanted more of it, more of him. She pushed him off her neck, and kissed him hard, pulling at his t-shirt and reaching up under it to feel the warmth radiate.
“Much better,” she mumbled and he didn’t question her, instead trying to take control of the situation and feel a little skin but she fought him and stripped him of his t-shirt and then undid his belt buckle, still kissing him, her lips hard against his and teeth nipping every now and again, occasionally too hard, causing him to hiss and her to laugh. When she had him undressed, her hand in his boxers feeling the hardness there and letting his lips go so she could suck and earlobe, nip his neck and try and figure which he liked more, which had the better reaction, like he was something to be studied, lain down and examined with fine detail. She gave bones all her care and professional passion, why not men. Why not Booth?
She didn’t stop to think too much about Booth and work and how the two were the same thing really, and fully dressed she forced him to lie on the bed and she straddled him, leaning over and kissing him again. His lips were wonderful, hard and careful when kissing her, like he was trying to tell her something important. She kissed him back and hoped she could convey as much in her kiss as him, he was definitely more expressive, she knew that, but it was something she was jealous of.
She rubbed herself against him shamelessly, moaning at the friction her underwear and skirt, his erection, created on her clit and the new rush of warmth and arousal that went through her, right to her head.
She watched Booth as carefully as she could while moving on him, his eyes were closed and his mouth open, but he was silent and she hated to make assumptions but she figured the friction and movements were better for him, harsher, harder and she knew so when he grabbed hold of her hips and began to thrust up against her, the material barriers.
Brennan needed more, wanted more, she always did. More information, more evidence, more warmth, more Booth.
She rose up and smiled at his disappointed groan, his hands trailing down her skirt then up under it to run over her smooth thighs as she lifted the material up. She grabbed his erection and ran it over her centre before nudging aside her thong and lowering herself onto him, her skirt falling to hide what the lower half of their bodies was doing but their faces saying everything. As their bodies met, Booth groaned again, a harsh noise that was followed by ‘fuck Tempe’ and she loved hearing him call her Tempe like Angela did, like her friends did. Her lovers.
She was hot and she started to move, rising up and down on top of a man who put more trust in her than she put in herself sometimes. It was beautiful, heart-warming and he began to thrust up into her at an increasing pace, the hands resting on her bare thighs wrapped around her legs and gripped her tightly and she let him take hold of the situation now. That’s what they did, sometimes she just had to give up control to him. Only to him and she let him thrust hard into her and she tried to hold onto the moans as she felt him deep inside her, hard and she was burning up, with every movement he made and with every groan she heard come from both him and herself she felt her temperature got up a notch until they were moving so fast and he was thrusting so hard she was sure she was going to burst into flames.
Absurd but possible.
She just had to end it before he did, he couldn’t make her come, she couldn’t let him, not now, not just yet. She had come for warmth, not for Booth to be so beautiful. She lifted up her skirt and slipped her hand underneath her thong. She pressed down on her clit, scraping her nail over it and causing herself to arch back and force her body down further onto Booth’s body, forcing him deeper and then she did burst into flames. Skin on fire, blood boiling, body shaking and she couldn’t keep upright as the warmth took over her mind but Booth gripped her hips again and moved harder then before, telling her his movements had been restrained before because he had known, had understood from the start what she wanted from him. He felt the warmth as strongly as she did and when he came there was a white hot explosion behind his eyes.
He shuddered his release into her body with a garbled ‘oh God’ and wondered if she could ever seek enough forgiveness for something this good. He let go of her and she fell to his side, eyes closed, smiling sleepily at him.
“Gonna let me undress you now?” He asked, she opened her eyes to look at him.
“No.” She replied and he just nodded because he understood and he felt trusted without seeing beneath the skirt.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Bones
Rating: Adult
Character/Pairing: Booth/Brennan
Spoilers: 1.19 The Man In The Morgue
Warnings: Sex.
Summery: Set after the episode.
Notes: This was a originally an fic in sms format for million_moments now typed up into 1436 words.
It meant something. It meant everything, screamed out the very foundations of her relationship with Booth that they had built and since the breakdown of her relationship with her brother she hadn’t found a man to put that much trust in her. Faith. Booth would have faith in her, being Catholic.
She had found, since taking the stand as an expert witness in court, that less and less people trusted her academically. Scientifically. Not because she was ever wrong but because in court people twisted science into something impure that left her feeling a little empty inside.
One earring made all the difference though, not that she wanted to admit it but it was certainly the reason why she was standing outside his door a few hours later, both earrings on and that warm feeling that she usually associated with sex, swirling around in her stomach.
She hadn’t said a word, hadn’t know what to say to a man who trusted her enough to risk his career for her. She knew how passionate a person could be about their work, Booth had certainly shown her his passionate side more than once, but not for her and he had opened his mouth the ask her if she was okay when she leaned forward to kiss him, holding her body apart from him, swallowing his surprise with her lips. The warm feeling intensified and she felt…better, without even realising there had been anything wrong.
“Bones, what the hell.” Booth put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away. her moved her aside to bring her into his apartment and close the door, “what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why does something have to be wrong?”
“You’ve have a rough few days. I’m worried about you." She smiled at him and kissed him, pleased to find him move responsive this time, pulling him closer to her.
“Don’t be worried,“ she said, “be passionate,” she said smiling coyly at him. He smiled back, he loved that smiled, couldn’t resist that smile. Not when her body was arched towards him and her lips were red and swollen and somewhere along the line his thought processes gave up on him and he kissed her back and pushed her up against his door frame.
She pushed back with a grunt, growling ‘careful’ at him with a grin on her face still, the warm feeling was spreading and when he stepped back, their lips reconnecting. He began to pull her through his apartment and she had to resist the temptation to look around at his home to get an insight into him.
His body would be insight enough. For now.
In the bedroom he reached into her jacket pocket, his lips on her neck, and pulled out her phone fiddling with it until he could switch it off. He knew she would choose work over him, over sex, he used to be like that. Being a father had changed his priorities a lot, he knew she still had to find that something or someone that would change her priorities. She knew what he had done though, how could she now when his body pressed against his and her jacket as tight as it was? But she let him silence her phone without really knowing why.
The warmth she felt so strongly came from Booth too and she wanted more of it, more of him. She pushed him off her neck, and kissed him hard, pulling at his t-shirt and reaching up under it to feel the warmth radiate.
“Much better,” she mumbled and he didn’t question her, instead trying to take control of the situation and feel a little skin but she fought him and stripped him of his t-shirt and then undid his belt buckle, still kissing him, her lips hard against his and teeth nipping every now and again, occasionally too hard, causing him to hiss and her to laugh. When she had him undressed, her hand in his boxers feeling the hardness there and letting his lips go so she could suck and earlobe, nip his neck and try and figure which he liked more, which had the better reaction, like he was something to be studied, lain down and examined with fine detail. She gave bones all her care and professional passion, why not men. Why not Booth?
She didn’t stop to think too much about Booth and work and how the two were the same thing really, and fully dressed she forced him to lie on the bed and she straddled him, leaning over and kissing him again. His lips were wonderful, hard and careful when kissing her, like he was trying to tell her something important. She kissed him back and hoped she could convey as much in her kiss as him, he was definitely more expressive, she knew that, but it was something she was jealous of.
She rubbed herself against him shamelessly, moaning at the friction her underwear and skirt, his erection, created on her clit and the new rush of warmth and arousal that went through her, right to her head.
She watched Booth as carefully as she could while moving on him, his eyes were closed and his mouth open, but he was silent and she hated to make assumptions but she figured the friction and movements were better for him, harsher, harder and she knew so when he grabbed hold of her hips and began to thrust up against her, the material barriers.
Brennan needed more, wanted more, she always did. More information, more evidence, more warmth, more Booth.
She rose up and smiled at his disappointed groan, his hands trailing down her skirt then up under it to run over her smooth thighs as she lifted the material up. She grabbed his erection and ran it over her centre before nudging aside her thong and lowering herself onto him, her skirt falling to hide what the lower half of their bodies was doing but their faces saying everything. As their bodies met, Booth groaned again, a harsh noise that was followed by ‘fuck Tempe’ and she loved hearing him call her Tempe like Angela did, like her friends did. Her lovers.
She was hot and she started to move, rising up and down on top of a man who put more trust in her than she put in herself sometimes. It was beautiful, heart-warming and he began to thrust up into her at an increasing pace, the hands resting on her bare thighs wrapped around her legs and gripped her tightly and she let him take hold of the situation now. That’s what they did, sometimes she just had to give up control to him. Only to him and she let him thrust hard into her and she tried to hold onto the moans as she felt him deep inside her, hard and she was burning up, with every movement he made and with every groan she heard come from both him and herself she felt her temperature got up a notch until they were moving so fast and he was thrusting so hard she was sure she was going to burst into flames.
Absurd but possible.
She just had to end it before he did, he couldn’t make her come, she couldn’t let him, not now, not just yet. She had come for warmth, not for Booth to be so beautiful. She lifted up her skirt and slipped her hand underneath her thong. She pressed down on her clit, scraping her nail over it and causing herself to arch back and force her body down further onto Booth’s body, forcing him deeper and then she did burst into flames. Skin on fire, blood boiling, body shaking and she couldn’t keep upright as the warmth took over her mind but Booth gripped her hips again and moved harder then before, telling her his movements had been restrained before because he had known, had understood from the start what she wanted from him. He felt the warmth as strongly as she did and when he came there was a white hot explosion behind his eyes.
He shuddered his release into her body with a garbled ‘oh God’ and wondered if she could ever seek enough forgiveness for something this good. He let go of her and she fell to his side, eyes closed, smiling sleepily at him.
“Gonna let me undress you now?” He asked, she opened her eyes to look at him.
“No.” She replied and he just nodded because he understood and he felt trusted without seeing beneath the skirt.