There's Only You
Fandom: Jurassic World: Rebirth
Pairing: Dr. Henry Loomis x Researcher!Reader
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Tags: Smut, Fluff, Teasing, Playful Banter, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Kissing, Unprotected P in V Sex, Henry is so in love, You're oblivious at first, Zora and Duncan can't take it anymore, Dinosaurs.
Word Count: Around 1500
Written For: @fourseasonsbingo
Squares/Prompts Filled: Card A: Walking Through The Forest
Dividers By: @/saradika-graphics
Requested By: @stormster111 - From this ask.
The sea stretched endlessly around the boat, glassy and golden beneath the early morning sun. Wind tousled your hair as you leaned against the railing, eyes fixed on the smudge of land growing larger on the horizon.
You felt the buzz of anticipation in your chest, real dinosaur nests, finally within reach. It was the kind of research trip you’d dreamed about since grad school, and you were here, among some of the best minds in the field.
Somewhere behind you, a man stood frozen on the deck.
Dr. Henry Loomis clutched his clipboard so tightly his knuckles were white. His gaze hadn’t left you since you stepped onto the boat. His brain had completely stopped working the moment you smiled at Zora and wrapped her in a familiar hug, voice soft and bright as the sun bouncing off the waves.
“She’s studying nesting behavior,” Duncan said, sidling up beside him. “And you’re staring.”
Henry blinked, startled. “I-I wasn’t-”
“You are,” Duncan said with a smirk. “Like you’ve just seen a goddess emerge from the sea.”
“I was just...curious. Scientifically.”
“Right. Scientifically curious about her mouth.”
Henry looked away, face flushed, clutching the clipboard like it could shield him from embarrassment. “She probably doesn’t even know I exist.”
Zora, now lounging on a supply crate nearby, arched an eyebrow. “Not if you keep hiding behind clipboards.”
“She’s…stunning,” Henry whispered, almost like he was afraid saying it aloud would make it less true. “And brilliant. Zora, you said she had a paper on interspecies nesting overlap-”
“Uh huh. And you said you were going to be professional this trip,” Zora cut in. “But you’ve been staring at her like she’s the last fossil on Earth.”
Henry sighed, hopeless. “Oh, god...I’m doomed.”
The island was breathtaking, with lush foliage, low sweeping valleys, and thick canopies shadowing ancient terrain. You helped set up base camp and immediately launched into work, hiking out with a pack full of scanners, a journal already half-filled with hypotheses.
The forest air was thick with humidity and the deep, earthy scent of ancient soil. Ferns brushed your legs as you crouched beside a nesting mound, brush in hand, gently sweeping away loose dirt from the edge of a partially buried eggshell.
Henry knelt beside you, notebook open, but he wasn’t writing. Not yet.
He was watching you again.
The sun filtered through the canopy above, streaking gold across your cheek, highlighting the delicate concentration in your eyes. The way your brow furrowed, how your fingers moved with careful precision, like the egg could crumble under the weight of a careless breath. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, unaware of the way his heart stuttered every time you did.
“I think it’s Dryosaurus,” you murmured, brushing back a bit more soil. “The shell’s thickness, the slight green tint from the sediment...see here?”
You leaned closer, and Henry leaned in too, helpless.
He swallowed. “You’re…incredible at this.”
You smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
“Seriously,” he added, voice barely above the wind rustling through the trees. “I could watch you do this all day.”
You froze for a second, blinking. He realized what he said a heartbeat too late.
“I-I mean professionally, of course. As a colleague. From a respectful scientific distance.”
You bit your lip, hiding a smile. “Of course.”
Henry ducked his head, face pink, but the moment was interrupted by a low, throaty chirp nearby.
Both your heads turned in sync.
From the brush emerged a young Pachycephalosaurus, no taller than your chest, its curious eyes blinking as it tilted its head. Its scales shimmered faintly green and gold in the dappled light.
You stilled immediately, careful not to startle it.
Henry’s breath caught.
“She’s alone,” you whispered. “Probably ventured from her herd. We’ve seen tracks up the ridge.”
Henry’s hand drifted protectively near your back, he didn’t touch you, but he hovered close enough to make your skin tingle. “Stay still. She might approach.”
Sure enough, the little dino took a tentative step forward.
You slowly extended your hand, palm open, voice low. “Hey there, pretty girl…”
The Pachy blinked again, then, to your delight, nudged her nose gently against your palm. She sniffed curiously, then chirped once and lowered her head as if inviting more contact.
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “She’s trusting me.”
Henry was utterly silent beside you, awestruck, not by the dinosaur, but by you. The way you softened, how your voice turned gentle, your entire body becoming calm.
“She likes you,” he murmured, watching your hand stroke over the creature’s scaly brow. “Of course she does.”
The dinosaur nuzzled your knee, then turned and waddled back into the brush, disappearing with a rustle of ferns.
You stared after her, grinning widely. “That was…magical.”
Henry hadn’t moved. “So are you.”
You turned to him, breath catching at the look on his face. He blinked, realizing he’d said that out loud again.
“Sorry. I-”
“Don’t be,” you said, smiling softly. “You’re kind of sweet when you forget to filter yourself.”
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re going to kill me.”
You stood and extended your hand to help him up. He hesitated only a second before taking it, warm, solid, his fingers curling into yours like they were meant to fit.
When he stood, your bodies were close. He didn’t let go.
You looked up at him through your lashes. “You okay?”
“I’m great,” he said, voice shaky.
You held his gaze for a long moment. And even though neither of you said anything more, the electricity between you crackled like fire just beneath your skin.
He finally let go. You both turned back to the site.
For the rest of the afternoon, Henry never strayed more than a few feet from you. Whenever you crouched to check a nest or adjust your notes, he hovered nearby, watching, listening, burning quietly with love.
He didn’t need a dinosaur to knock into him to know he’d fallen hard.
But somehow, you still didn’t realize.
Zora did.
She approached you one afternoon as you were sketching nest layouts near camp. She plopped beside you, chin in hand.
“So,” she said casually. “How long are you going to make Henry suffer?”
You blinked. “What?”
Zora snorted. “Girl. You have to know. He’s so in love with you, it hurts to look at him.”
You stared at her, heat creeping into your cheeks.
“He’s been inventing reasons to be near you for days,” she said. “He blushes every time you say his name. He practically short-circuits when you smile at him.”
Your lips parted slightly. “I thought he was just…shy.”
“He is. But he’s also obsessed with you.”
Your heart started beating faster. All the stolen glances. The trembling hands. The way his voice went hoarse when he asked you questions.
“Oh my god.”
Zora leaned back with a grin. “Go talk to him. Or I will.”
Meanwhile, Duncan had dragged Henry behind one of the tents, arms crossed.
“She knows,” he said.
Henry’s whole body tensed. “What?! What do you mean, she...Zora told her?!”
“She did. You’re welcome.”
Henry groaned. “I-I’m going to ruin everything. What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
Duncan shook his head. “Listen, man. You’ve been walking around like a kicked puppy. Just go. Tell her. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
Henry stood frozen for a full thirty seconds before he finally nodded.
You were in your tent when he arrived, the flap rustling softly as he hesitated in the entrance. He looked wrecked with nerves, hair mussed, glasses slightly fogged, breath shallow.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said quietly.
You stood. “Not at all. Come in.”
He stepped inside like it was sacred ground. The lantern light painted him in gold and amber, casting soft shadows across his face.
“I…Zora told you,” he said.
You nodded slowly. “She did.”
He swallowed hard. “It's true...all of it. I’ve never…I’ve never felt this way before. About anyone. And I was terrified I’d ruin it if I said something. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t want you. Not just for your work. Not just as a colleague. I want you.”
You stared at him, heart in your throat.
“I noticed you the moment you stepped on the boat,” he whispered. “And I haven’t stopped.”
You stepped closer, voice barely above a breath. “Henry…”
He looked up, eyes full of longing. “Please. Just tell me you feel something too.”
You reached up, cupped his cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you to say something.”
He exhaled like you’d just granted him salvation. And then he kissed you.
It started softly.
Henry’s lips met yours with aching tenderness, his hands tentative as they curled around your waist. But the longer your mouths moved together, the more control he lost. The kiss deepened, turned hungry. Days of restraint cracked under your touch.
He guided you back toward the cot, pausing only to whisper, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He kissed you again, slower this time, like he was savoring every second. His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, tracing warm lines over your skin as he murmured your name like it was something holy.
When your shirt came off, he stared like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His hands hovered just above your skin, hesitant, afraid.
“Henry,” you whispered. “Touch me.”
He obeyed instantly, palms sliding up your ribs, over your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples gently as you gasped. He watched your every reaction like it was a discovery. When you tugged at his shirt, he fumbled it off, blushing as you ran your hands over his chest.
You kissed your way down his neck, and he shuddered, soft moans slipping from his lips.
When you laid back on the cot and guided his fingers between your thighs, he nearly lost it.
“You’re so wet already,” he whispered, dazed.
“For you.”
He swallowed hard, eyes locked on yours as he slipped one, then two fingers inside. His touch was slow, careful, as if memorizing the feel of you.
Your back arched slightly as he slid them in and out of you. He curled them and you had to cover your mouth to stifle the moan.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “I want to make you feel good. Let me.”
He kissed down your stomach, spreading your thighs gently. His breath fanned over your cunt before his tongue met you, and the gasp that tore from your throat made his hips jerk against the mattress.
He worshiped you like it was instinct, like he was born to. He moaned against you when you tangled your fingers in his hair, your thighs trembling around his head.
“H-Henry...please...oh, my god!”
He slid those same two fingers back inside you, finding your sweet spot as his tongue flicked over your clit.
You couldn't keep quiet, your cries of pleasure getting increasingly more urgent as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.
When you came, crying his name, he looked up with raw awe in his eyes.
You pulled him up, kissed him deep, and reached for his belt. His hands covered yours.
“I won’t last long,” he warned, voice ragged. “Not when you look like this, not with you so beautiful beneath me…”
“Then don’t hold back,” you whispered. “I want all of you.”
He slid inside you with a broken groan, burying his face in your neck as he filled you. He stilled, breathing hard, trying to regain some semblance of control.
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “You feel…so good.”
He moved slowly at first, hips rocking in gentle waves. But when you whimpered his name, digging your nails into his back, something snapped.
He kissed you hungrily, thrusting deeper, harder, whispering things you could barely understand. “So beautiful,” “Can’t believe you’re mine,” “I never want to leave.”
Henry slid his hand to your breast, squeezing your nipple as he kissed you deeply. He did the same to your other one before he reached between your bodies to find your clit.
You came again, and the way your walls pulsed around him undid him. He buried himself as deep as he could and spilled with a hoarse cry, trembling above you.
He was gentle when he pulled out of you, peppering kisses along your cheeks, jaw, and lips. The two of you fell asleep like that, curled against one another, the sounds of the jungle a soft lullaby.
The tent was quiet in the golden haze of the morning.
Birds chirped distantly in the canopy above, and somewhere nearby, the low bellow of a herbivore echoed through the trees, but inside your tent, everything was still. Still and warm. Warm from the heat of Henry’s body, his breath ghosting over your shoulder, his arms curled protectively around your waist.
The brilliant, shy, ridiculously sweet Henry slept with his face buried in your neck, one hand splayed gently across your stomach, the other tucked under your side like he needed to be as close as humanly possible.
You couldn’t stop smiling.
Every time he shifted in his sleep and unconsciously pulled you tighter, your heart fluttered. You remembered the way he’d looked at you the night before, awestruck, feral with need. You remembered the way his hands had trembled when he’d touched you. And now here he was, tangled in the sheets with you.
You brushed a hand through his hair.
He stirred with a soft groan, nuzzling your neck. Then his lips parted against your skin.
“…Did last night really happen?” he murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep.
You giggled. “It did.”
Henry opened his eyes slowly. And blushed instantly.
His gaze flicked from your bare legs to your lips, then to your fingers resting on his chest. “You’re, um…wearing my shirt.”
You sat up, the fabric falling loosely over your thighs. It was comically large on you, soft, slightly wrinkled, and completely saturated in his scent.
You grinned. “It’s comfy.”
He looked like he’d stopped breathing.
Something hit a pan just outside the tent, followed by a very loud, very fake cough.
Then...
CRASH
Zora.
You both froze.
“I know someone’s up in there,” she called. “And I brought pancakes. If I’m gonna suffer through your post-sex glow, I at least expect to see both of you at breakfast.”
Henry groaned into your pillow. “Oh god.”
You stepped out of the tent five minutes later, barefoot, legs bare, Henry’s shirt brushing just past your knees. You’d quickly combed your hair with your fingers and tried to play it cool, but Zora and Duncan were both waiting like lions spotting prey.
Duncan was lounging at the makeshift breakfast table with a smug grin and two plates in front of him. Zora leaned against a tent pole, arms crossed, biting back a grin as her gaze immediately dropped to the shirt.
“Well good morning, sunshine,” she said sweetly.
You tried not to laugh. “Morning.”
Henry stumbled out behind you, hair still tousled, face bright red as he adjusted his pants and put his glasses on. He didn’t even look at Zora or Duncan, just mumbled something about coffee and bolted toward the brewing pot like it might save his life.
Duncan tilted his head, grinning up at you.
“That his shirt?”
You nodded, holding your plate.
“Nice,” he said. “Very…possessive. You planning on giving it back?”
“Never,” you said with a smirk.
Zora slid a mug of tea across the table toward you. “You broke the poor man.”
You sat beside her, sipping and smiling as Henry nervously handed you a napkin and sat very carefully next to you, like any sudden movement might draw more attention.
You glanced over at him. His ears were so red.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
He cleared his throat. “I...yes. Just…warm.”
Zora grinned into her mug. “Bet it was.”
Henry choked on his coffee.
Duncan deadpanned. “Glad to see the tent didn’t collapse.”
You laughed as Henry buried his face in his hands.
Zora leaned closer, mock whispering, “Was he as shy in bed as he is in the field?”
Henry actually groaned, but you leaned into it, resting your hand on his thigh under the table.
“Nope,” you whispered. “Not even a little.”
Henry dropped his fork.
Duncan burst out laughing.
You all sat there a while longer, pancakes on paper plates, syrup passed back and forth, birds singing in the trees. Henry relaxed gradually, his hand finding yours beneath the table, thumb brushing gently along your knuckles. You leaned into him, his shirt warm and oversized on your body, his shoulder brushing yours.
And even though Zora and Duncan kept teasing, relentlessly, you could tell Henry was glowing beneath the nerves. Because every time you laughed, every time you touched his knee or smiled at him over your mug, he looked at you like he couldn’t believe this was his life now.
Like you were the most precious discovery he'd ever made.
Henry Tag List: @a-quick-request @swimmingnightcolor
