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jurrasicworldcc · 1 year

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Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous: Return to Isla Nublar fanfic (Part 1)

Characters: Darius Bowman, Kenji Kon-Bowman, Casey Johnson (OC), April Turner-Johnson (OC), Ben Pincus, Brooklynn, Yasmina “Yaz” Fadoula-Gutierrez, Sammy Gutierrez, The Ultra Rex, Tiff, Tommy Oliver (OC), Lana Williams (OC), Edie (OC), Audrey (OC), Caroline Johnson (OC), Mae Turner

Context: So, I made a post recently about a JWCC sequel idea and I apparently decided to make a fanfic series to incorporate the full story. Hope you enjoy part 1!!!

Warning: Blood, Mentions and future scenes of Child abuse, Gore, Violence, Intense & Frightening scenes, Language

I DO NOT OWN JURASSIC WORLD!!!

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San Antonio, Texas - Gutierrez Family Barn - March 12th, 2023

Casey adjusted his tie and sighed. He, Darius, Kenji, and Ben were sitting in the chairs that were set in rows in the barn. It was Yaz and Sammy’s wedding.

“Man…I totally bet Sammy’s scared shitless..” Kenji whispered.

Casey chuckled quietly and turned on his walkie. “Brooklynn? What’s taking so long??”

“We’re fine!” Brooklynn’s voice replied. “We’re just dealing with some bridal stress relief right now.”

He could hear Sammy hyperventilating and her sisters trying to calm her down. “Quick, calm her down and get ready. Yaz is sweating profusely from where I can see!”

“Okay, okay, calm down.”

The walkie shut off and Casey sighed. Darius smiled and said, “Can you believe it? Yaz and Sammy are getting married.”

“Yeah, we kinda knew this would happen.” Ben replied. “I just wish Bumpy were here.”

“You can tell her about it when you visit Isla Mantah again.”

“Thanks, D.”

Suddenly, the piano music came and the audience stood up.

“Finally!” Casey whispered.

Brooklynn, April, and Sammy’s sisters made it to the altar and Mr. Gutierrez walking Sammy down the isle. Yaz was so happy and giggled.

After what seems like an eternity, Bessie (the cow) came with the rings and Yaz and Sammy got their rings on each finger. With that, the pastor said, “Now, with the power invested in me, I now pronounce you both married partners for life. You may kiss the bride.”

The pastor stepped back and Sammy pulled Yaz in for a passionate kiss and hugged her tight. The audience erupted into cheer and laughter and the pastor loudly announced, “I now introduce Samantha and Yasmina Gutierrez!”

Casey clapped and April waved at him. With that, Ms. Fadoula burst into tears and wailed, “My baby’s married now!!”

Yaz smiled at her new wife and said, “Hi, Mrs. Gutierrez.”

Three Months Later - Costa Rica

Casey finally placed the last piece of science down and stretched. “Man, that was the last piece of sodium placed and now…quitting time for the day.”

April sat down and said, “Hey, hon.”

She planted a kiss on his cheek and Casey returned the favor with a peck on her lips. April giggled gleefully and said, “We gotta meet up with the others for that picnic that Yaz and Sammy planned with us after their honeymoon.”

“Yeah, I know, April. Sammy reminded us twelve times.” Casey chuckled.

“Yeah…”

The two proceeded to exit the lab part of the house and Caroline smiled. “Took you two long enough.”

“Mom…” Casey chuckled.

“How about I go get ready and we head on over to the park?” April asked.

“Sure, babe.”

April pecked Casey’s lips and left the room. Caroline smiled and asked, “Casey, what is it?”

Casey chuckled and looked at his mother. “Mom…I’m gonna plan to ask April to marry me!”

Caroline covered her mouth keep her screaming from joy and hugged him. “Casey! I have been wanting this moment to happen ever since you first introduced me to her!”

“You okay?” April’s voice called.

“Nothing!”

Caroline smiled and went to a cabinet in which she took out a small ring box which she opened and showed a silver ring with a beautiful diamond on it. “This was my grandmother’s engagement ring. She hoped that I would eventually use it and then give it to my children…and I now give it to you.”

Casey looked at the beautiful ring and suddenly put it in his pocket as he heard April’s footsteps and she appeared with a basket and her blue skirt well-ironed. “Ready?”

“Yep.” Casey replied.

The two proceeded to leave the house and walked to the Parque Okayama park where the others were sitting on a beach towel over one of the grass fields. Ben waved for the two. “Hey! April and Casey! Over here!”

The couple smiled and sat down. Darius said, “Hey, guys!”

“Hey, Case!” Sammy said.

“Hey, guys!” Casey said. “Sammy, Yaz, how was your honeymoon?”

Yaz laughed gleefully. “We loved it! A honeymoon in Italy was the best day we’ve had since our first kiss! Thanks, Kenji, for paying for all that.”

“I’m just stuck paying the bills.” Kenji chuckled. “It’s the least I can do to make you two ladies happen.”

Sammy chuckled and gazed lovingly at her wife. “And spending that week in Italy with my wife is the best experience I could have.”

“I love you, Sam.” Yaz smiled.

“I love you too, Yaz.”

The two kissed and Brooklynn said, “This was way better than when you spam your flirty stuff on the Discord DMs.”

Yaz playfully chucked a leaf at Brooklynn and the two girls giggled. Sammy wrapped her arms around her wife and said, “Guys! We gotta get eating!”

Kenji pulled out the pizza box and Casey asked, “Is this Papa Johns?”

“Yup.” Kenji replied. “ Aaaaaaannnddd, I forgot a pizza cutter.”

“Oh, honey.” Brooklynn soothed a hand on his shoulder.

“No need.” Casey showed his hand which formed into his raptor claw and cut the pizza in separate slices.

After a while, it nearly became sunset and then Brooklynn asked Kenji, “Hey, Kenj? Should we tell them?”

“Tell us what?” Casey asked. “I mean, Ben and Darius are dating and we were shocked by that, Yaz and Sammy are married, so what’s gonna shock us now?”

Brooklynn showed her right hand which had a shiny little ring and Kenji said, “We’re engaged!”

Sammy squealed and Ben cheered. Yaz clapped her hands and Casey yelled, “Holy shit! Congratulations!”

“Yeah! Congratulations!” April added.

“Awesome! Congrats, bro!” Darius said.

“Y’know, I’m soon to become a Bowman.” Brooklynn replied. “Just thinking about it…”

She squealed like Suzie Q from Jojo. “It makes me blush!”

“This is crazy…” Sammy said. “This all started eight years ago, back on Isla Nublar. We went from strangers, to friends, and eventually family.”

“Yeah…Yeah, we did.” Casey smiled.

“Now look at us. Now we’re-”

“Immortal.” Ben said.

“In-laws.” Brooklynn said.

“Survivors.” April said.

“Celebrities.” Darius said.

“I was gonna say, “Soulmates” and together.” Sammy replied.

“And to think that Sammy would become my wife.” Yaz added.

“And to think that most of us are about to be married.” Darius said.

“Also, it’s June. This is the seventh anniversary of when we escaped Nublar.” Casey said. “Happy Nublar-escape anniversary!!”

“HAPPY NUBLAR-ESCAPE ANNIVERSARY!!!” Everyone said.

Around an hour and a half, the six of the Nublar Seven returned to the hotel and Casey and April walked back to their home.

April chuckled and got her night clothes on. Casey looked in his pocket and got the box with the ring in it. April sat on the bed and said, “It’s nice that the others are staying in Costa Rica for the rest of the week for that anniversary that you made.”

“Yeah.” Casey walked over to her with the ring box behind his back. “Hey, babe. I have a massive question right now. Since Kenji and Brooklynn are engaged now and, well, April…I love you so much and now that Mae has a girlfriend and a lot of things are going good in our lives right now, I wanna make our lives even better than those experiences on Isla Mantah and with TJ, Angel, Rebel, and Firecracker…So, April Turner, will you…” He opened the box in which April gasped. “…marry me?”

“Casey, YES!” April exclaimed.

Casey and April hugged and he slid the ring onto her finger. The two kissed and Caroline walked in. The scientist smiled and asked her son, “So, what’s the answer?”

“Yes.” April has happy tears down her face.

Caroline screamed of excitement and hugged the two. Casey smiled and before the two went to bed, he got on his phone and got into the group chat.

DrCaseyJohnson: Hey, guys!

TrackOlympicsYaz (Mrs. Gutierrez): What?

Farmgirl2022: Yeah, you woke me and Yaz up. What’s the news???

BrooklynnUnboxesTheWorld: What’s the news, Dr. Johnson?”

DrCaseyJohnson: I proposed to April tonight and she said, “Yes!!!!”

JungleBoy5000: WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Dinonerd2001: THAT’S AMAZING!!!! I’m so happy for you two!!!!

BrooklynnUnboxesTheWorld: When’s the wedding????

DrCaseyJohnson: I just proposed! I had not thought of anything else yet. To quote Yaz from 2015, “I did not think this through.”

TrackOlympicsYaz (Mrs. Gutierrez): Please do not quote me the day I broke my ankle, that was not a pleasant moment for any of us.

Casey smiled and looked at the sleeping fiancée besides him. Life could not be any better.

#camp cretaceous oc #jurassic world camp cretaceous #brooklynn jwcc #sammy gutierrez #yasmina fadoula #fanfic #kenji kon #darius bowman #ben pincus #camp fam #kenlynn #benrius #yasammy #Return to Isla Nublar part one #Return to Isla Nublar fanfic #oc x oc ship

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openingnightposts · 1 month

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#HolliHarma #LasBorinqueñas #NewYorkTheater #OffBroadway

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ren1327 · 2 years

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Incoming Fic Update/Sneak Peek

Title: Lips of an Angel Pairing: Kenji Kon x Ben Pincus Rating: TBA, most likely M or E Tags: Angst, cheating, college age, drinking, secret relationship, we do not Brooklynn bash despite the plot Synopsis: He was a coward. Had been one for years. He couldn't break it off with his girlfriend. But how do you tell her you've always been in love with one of your best friends? As well as seeing him in secret for over a year?

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He panted into Kenji’s mouth, both breathless from the kiss. Kenji’s brown met his gray blue and his heart skipped a beat. Their lips met again— “Kenji?” Brooklynn called from the kitchen. “Damn it.” Kenji whispered. “I have to…” “I know.” Ben said, grabbing his face and kissing his cheek. “I know.” “I’ll come find you later.” He said and slowly pulled away, fingers lingering on his lover's shoulders. “My door is unlocked. It always is.” Ben said reassuringly. Kenji blushed and nodded, leaving to meet his girlfriend, Ben left hidden behind the staircase.

#jwcc benji #kenjamin #wildcity #kenji x ben #ben x kenji #jwcc fanfic

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circusclownsam · 2 years

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Introduction

First Name: Min-Ya

Last Name: Choi

Nickname: Minnie, prefers that name only

Gender: Female

Age: 18-20s

Species: Human

Birthday: 3/9

Ethnicity: Korean-Australian

Race: Asian

Appearance

Height: 158cm (5’2)

Weight: light (don’t have the correct weight)

Eye Colour: deep sea blue

Hair Color: Chocolate brown

Hair Length: Reaches down to her thighs

Hair texture: 2C

Face Claim: https://pin.it/5FkjIFk

Skin tone: warn tan

Body shape: hourglass, average thickness, small waist, d cup size

Scars: centred on her arms, inner thighs and back. doesn’t care enough to hide them

Piercing(s): seven on each ear (14 altogether)

Other features: freckled cheeks and nose, dimpled smile

Main Outfit

: https://pin.it/A64saUjen

: https://pin.it/4zitKJ2WS

: https://pin.it/bTxq73J

: https://pin.it/3gyn1Ardn

: https://pin.it/6ll1nnY19 (right wrist)

: https://pin.it/5zqoxK0yB (left wrist)

: https://pin.it/66knCtYeI

: https://pin.it/5yic4geSa

: https://pin.it/64tLKX3Bu

: https://pin.it/3qnoitl

: https://pin.it/zRoYNmakH

: https://pin.it/d2Bqh1kM3

About her

Positive traits: Caring, Selfless, Honest, Creative, Understanding, Hard-working, athletic

Negative traits: Sarcastic, Cold at first, Anti-social, Secluded, Competitive at times, Trust issues

Likes: being left alone, Protecting others, Teasing people, Drawing, Reading in her alone time, participating in swimming events, riding her motorcycle

Dislikes: loud obnoxious people, being pestered, getting her fears used against her

Hobbies: despite her gothic/punk appearance, Minnie likes to partake in professional swimming carnivals and events

Allergies: sunflower oil and seeds, mild rash and sneeze.

Fear(s): being abandoned, getting swarmed by dinosaurs

Strength(s): her athleticism, her swimming knowledge.

Weakness(es): her lack of voice, her trust issues.

Talents and Dreams

Ambition/dream: she wants to be a professional swimming coach

Occupation/Job: she’s currently a student in high school (/college)

Best Class(es): P.E, swimming carnivals, art.

Worst Class(es): N/A

Family and Friends

Parent(s): Lin Choi, currently alive and well. father stepped out of her life before her 16th birthday.

Sibling(s): Katie Choi, currently ill

Relative(s): N/A

Best Friend(s): Sammy, Yaz, Ben

Friend(s): Brooklyn, Kenji, Darius

potential love interest(s): Kenji Kon, Ben Pincus

Pet(s): a tarantula named Spino, a black cat named Rexy.

Rival(s): N/A

Enemy: Tiff and Mitch, Mantah Corp

Extra

Scent: a soft marshmallow / cotton candy smell

Blood type: A+

Owned Vehicles: an all-black motorcycle. gifted from her mum

Favourites

Favourite Food(s): Rice, watermelon, Tteokbokki.

Favourite Drink(s): any sugary drink

Favourite Color(s): Maroon Red, Black, baby blue.

Favourite Animal(s): Velociraptor, Lion, Tiger.

Favourite Season(s): Winter, Spring.

Favourite Holiday(s): Christmas, Halloween.

Favourite Time of Day: the afternoon.

#CircusClownSam OCs #camp cretaceous

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seek-its-opposite · 5 years

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folie imposée | wc: 1410 | ao3

prompt from @o6666666: 31. I found you grasping to hold onto me

When she fires at the shape climbing the wall she thinks, fumbling for something normal, of how Mulder has always had a gift for shadow puppets. But Mulder’s hands are tied.

This isn’t exactly right, if she’s being honest. She only thinks of the shadow puppets later, driving him home as he sleeps in the passenger seat. She is only a scientist when her gun is in its holster.

So: When she fires at the shape climbing the wall what she really thinks is He was right, which sounds suspiciously like Of course, which is less a conscious thought than a feeling. Like the click of the right prescription in an eye exam. Like seeing a zombie behind a hospital desk.

“Scully,” Mulder rasps. “Get away from the window.”

“It’s gone, Mulder.”

“Just get back.”

He’s straining, struggling against his restraints to reach her. She unhooks the belt across his chest and he grasps for her, pulling at the straps around his wrists. When she takes his arm in her hands his skin burns hot and pink, rubbed raw by cheap canvas.

She could play his scrapes on a turntable and the vinyl would sing a slow tragedy, a myth reborn in jazz. Cassandra the cursed prophet, reincarnated as a boy who believes in aliens.

She loosens the strap and he slips his hand out, grabbing her cheek. “Did it get you?”

“No,” she says, but she leans closer anyway, until her nose is inches from his, and lets him look into her eyes. He wraps fevered fingers around the back of her neck, brushing back her hair.

“No Alaskan ice worms, either,” she breathes.

He smiles. Mulder, with his split lip and bruised chin.

She crosses to the other side of the bed and frees his other hand, the swollen knuckles that should really still be taped. She should put his hand back on ice, her cursed boy. She should lock him away, and herself with him.

“Scully—” he starts.

“Hang on.” She pushes him forward by the shoulder and studies the back of his neck. He waits.

The skin is unbroken. His brain, his fine brain—of course.

In the car she will think of shadow puppets, of how good he is at projecting a story in the dark. Of how that’s not, exactly, what happened here.

“Where are your clothes?”

He points. “Drawer.”

She retrieves his suit, so artlessly folded, and sets it on the bed.

“I’ll close this curtain so you can change,” she says. “I’ll be right here. But you should hurry.”

Mulder nods and starts to stand. He’s barely on his feet for a second before he blinks and tumbles back onto the bed.

She stops drawing the curtain. “Mulder?”

“Dizzy,” he says, screwing his eyes shut. “She gave me something. Nurse Zombie.”

She touches his forehead and he opens his eyes to study her thumb. No fever. She checks his chart.

“Just a sedative,” she confirms. “Enough to discredit you.”

“Why?” He bunches the sheet in his hand. “They didn’t think I’d be alive by morning.”

Get him out of here. It’s primal: feeling, not thought. Get out, get him out.

She kneels on cold linoleum to slip his socks onto his feet and tie his shoes. She tucks Mulder’s wrinkled suit under her left elbow, bends down, and fits her right arm around his back.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

Mulder leans on her, stumbling into the hallway in his G-man shoes and hospital-issued scrubs.

“This is against protocol,” the nurse says from behind the desk, with a robotic voice and color in her cheeks. I saw her face, Scully reminds herself. I saw it.

She keeps walking, dragging Mulder along with her. They stop for no one.

ii.

Folie imposée: a sub-classification of folie à deux in which a dominant person (known as the ‘primary,’ ‘inducer,’ or ‘principal’) initially forms a delusional belief and imposes it on another person or persons (the 'secondary,’ 'acceptor,’ or 'associate’), with the assumption that the secondary person might not have become deluded if left to their own devices.

Which is to say that she probably would not have shot at a monster on a patient’s wall had she chosen to practice medicine.

iii.

She drives him to her place, tucks him into her bed. When she takes off his shoes she remembers being in Catechism, practicing how Mary poured perfume on Jesus’ feet.

Is it worship or penance, what she has with him? Her primary. Her inducer.

She’s stuck on this: that she wouldn’t do one autopsy, and it almost killed him.

(She would have done Mulder’s autopsy. She would have sewn him up, left the morgue, walked to her mother’s. Would have left the morgue and walked until she bled. Wouldn’t have left. Would have sewn herself up inside him.)

But she wouldn’t cut into Backus, couldn’t give credence to Lambert’s delusions without admitting Mulder shared them. Too soon after almost starting a national security incident to justify her faith in her partner. Keep it professional, Agent Scully. Sweep it under the rug, free him from a hostage situation, take him home. Take off his shoes. No, no.

iv.

The first documented case of folie à deux, in 19th-century France, involved a young married couple with a persecution complex. They believed people were breaking into their home and wearing their shoes.

Mulder gasps awake in Scully’s bed, knows it’s her bed before he opens his eyes. Light from the street lamp outside cuts across the rug. A grayscale nightmare crackles to static at the edge of his vision.

He kicks his way out of the sheets and finds his wrists are doctored, wrapped in loose bandages and greasy with ointment. Scully. He pictures her balanced on the edge of the mattress with his hand in hers. What has he done to her?

You have to believe me, he said, and the universe finished the sentence: or I’ll die. Dress my wounds forever and ever amen, Scully, it’s in your contract.

There’s a drawer in her dresser with an extra overnight bag, his bag, tucked into one side. He tears off the scrubs and changes into sweatpants.

In the living room he can barely make out Scully, curled up on the couch under a blanket with the Pincus file spread across her hip. He’s considering whether to wake her, to offer the bed for the rest of the night, when he collides with a vase on a side table.

Scully jolts, fumbling for her gun.

“It’s me,” he hisses, palms up. “It’s me.”

“Mulder?” She switches on a lamp. “What time is it?”

It’s 5:35. They both squint at the clock, question answered.

“Are you okay?” she asks. He nods dully. He’s an escapee of the psych ward, marked for death by a rogue monster and his undead army, and possibly unemployed. He’s fine.

When he doesn’t elaborate, she shakes her head and laughs the ghost of a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I was just thinking. Hiding in the light.”

He waits, expectant. She bites her lip.

“Coffee?” she asks.

And he nods again, like she’s pumping air into his lungs.

vi.

She leans against the kitchen counter in the orange glow of the early dawn, watching the coffee drip into the pot. He sits at the table, a plain turquoise mug in his hands. They wait.

“Are these the same grounds you got in Maine?” he asks.

She nods, proudly. She says, “I’m rationing.”

“Oh,” he remembers. “Thanks for the, um—” He motions at his wrist, spinning his finger around it like a bandage.

“They’re not too tight?”

“Just right, Goldilocks,” he declares with a flourish. “I’ll be all healed up by the time they slap the cuffs on me.”

Scully frowns. “Mulder, for what? The hospital couldn’t hold you. That nurse is out of this time zone by now, along with everyone else in Pincus’ orbit.”

“The Bureau, then.”

“I have a meeting with Skinner this morning.” She straightens her shoulders. “You’ll be found fit for duty.”

“What are you going to tell him?” he asks.

She studies her mug, tracing the rim with her fingernail. “I don’t know.”

The red light on the coffee pot blinks. The rising sun lands directly on her face.

“Scully?” he risks. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

She looks at him, lips parted. The room ignites like it’s been lit from within.

“Scully?”

“I saw what you saw.”

#txf #msr #folie a deux #my fic #o6666666 #i posted this as an answer to your ask and it kept giving me the post as a dead link??? UNCLEAR WHY #anyway here's hoping this works #also I truly do not know what this is #and it's SO late i'm so sorry #but thank you so much for the prompt #which you sent 50 years ago!#ETA it finally let me add a read more link

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softnow · 6 years

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blame the weather

msr | s6 | explicit | words: 5k

it all comes back to the rain.

written for @xfpornbattle prompt 35: mulder finds scully wearing his knicks jersey. tagging @today-in-fic.

— — —

It all comes back to the rain. Them, here, now, this—it’s all thanks to the rain. Six-plus years of partnership, of trust, of unflinching dependability, and he owes it all to one downpour in a little town in Oregon. Other, more pressing things he owes to the rain: Scully here, at his desk, in her glasses, in his shirt. And not just any shirt. His Knicks shirt. The one with the sleeves cut off and the hem beginning to unravel. The one he’s imagined so many times draping over her after he’s memorized every inch of her small body. Here, Scully, you can sleep in this.

He’s never been so grateful for a foot chase in a deluge, or for the street flooding that prevented Scully from getting back to Georgetown afterwards. And he’s never been so grateful to live where he does, close enough to bring her home with him, to offer her first crack at the shower while their clothes tumble in the dryer. She used most of the hot water, but he doesn’t mind, because thinking about her standing in his tub, soaping herself with his soap is dangerous thinking—cold-shower-required thinking.

Not that the tepid shower really did any good though, because…here she is. At his desk. In his shirt. With one foot tucked casually under her and the other swinging in circles, and she’s wearing his socks, too. The thick wool ones. They slouch down her calves and pool at her ankles like leg warmers, so many sizes too big, and there’s something about it that makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

She looks so young and fresh, devoid of makeup, her hair curling at the ends as it dries. If he didn’t know better, he could almost imagine she’s never wrestled a suspect twice her size to the ground in the pouring rain, cold-cocked him and handcuffed him, and walked away with little more than a bruised knee and a scratched cheek. But he does know better, and he’s glad, because to see her only like this—soft and relaxed at the end of the day—without seeing her surgeon’s hands and her fighter’s stance and her whip-smart tongue would be to do her a disservice. Dana Scully is not a woman to be taken in pieces. Dana Scully is all or nothing.

“Clothes should be done soon,” he says, as much to announce his presence as to give him something to do with his mouth besides gape. “What are you doing?”

He drops into the chair beside the desk and tries very hard not to look at her legs. Between the tops of the socks and the hem of his shirt, they are smooth and wonderful and bare and Jesus Christ, is she wearing anything under there?

“Writing my report. Or…trying to.” She lifts a hand to remove her glasses and gifts him a glimpse of the side swell of her breast. The cut-off arms expose a lot more of her than they do of him, and he adds scissors and his own vanity to the list of things he’s grateful for. “Mulder, what happened out there?”

“We got our guy. Or should I say, you got our guy with those Ric Flair moves of yours. Very impressive, g-woman.” He’s going for a smile, but he’ll take the quirk of her brow as she turns to face him.

“He had a mandible. He—he tried to bite me with it. And then I cuffed him and turned him over and it was gone. How is any of that possible?”

“You ever see The Fly, Scully?”

She narrows her eyes and purses her mouth, and he can’t quite hold back his smile, because he knows exactly what comes next.

“Are you seriously suggesting Ralph Morrison was part of some scientific experiment that scrambled his DNA with that of—of a beetle?”

“Why not?” He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His hands are close enough to brush her leg. All he’d have to do is extend his fingers, and he’d be right there. “You of all people know the kinds of scientific leaps being made behind closed doors. Who knows what was going on out at that lab.”

She snorts and shakes her head. “Skinner’s going to love this.”

“Ah, come on. ‘Bug-man murders family and flees on foot’ is hardly the strangest thing you’ve written in a report. Hey, remember Greg Pincus? Now that was one bugged-out dude.”

She tries to glare at him and smiles instead. It starts in her eyes and moves to her lips—just the corners at first—but then her cheeks get involved and the next thing he knows, wonder of wonders, those are her teeth peaking out at him. She’s been smiling at him like this more frequently, but it still feels like winning the lottery.

“Yeah, okay.” She shifts in the chair and draws her other leg up under her, revealing a familiar strip of blue cotton beneath the hem of his shirt. He can’t help it; he stares.

“I couldn’t find any sweatpants,” she says, her cheeks pink, and it’s a blatant lie. He only has four drawers and his sweats are right on top, unmissable. Scully—his partner Scully, Special Agent Scully—just wanted an excuse to wear his underwear.

“They look better on you.” He doesn’t even need to see more than that little scrap to tell it’s the truth. There’s nothing on earth that wouldn’t look better on her.

Outside, lightning halves the sky and a roll of thunder follows. Rain beats a harsh rhythm on the window, but in here, in the soft lamplight glow of his living room, Mulder is staring at the sun. Scully’s blush deepens and she turns away from him—back to her report, to responsibilities, to pretending she’s as buttoned up as ever, who knows—and it’s the last thing he wants. He’s out of the chair and kneeling beside her before he can think about it. He cradles her cheek and guides her mouth down to his.

It isn’t their first kiss. That honor belongs to the night at the ball field, where he’d given her a present and she’d given him one right back: her body pressed tight against his and her sweet, clear laugh in his ears and after, in the parking lot, her hands on his shoulders and her lips on his. There have been other kisses since—hello kisses and goodbye kisses and tentative just-because-we-can kisses. But none of them—save for maybe that first one, with only the stars and the breeze as their witness—have felt this intimate.

Perhaps it’s because she’s barely clothed. Perhaps it’s because she made herself at home without him having to invite her to, stealing from his drawers and commandeering his computer and curling up in his chair like she owns it. Like this is a regular Friday night thing—and in a way, it is. A case, a chase, the aftermath. It’s not the first storm they’ve weathered together, not even the first they’ve weathered here, but it is the first she’s spent wearing his underwear and smiling at him like that and kissing him like this.

Dana Scully, he’s been delighted to discover in recent weeks, has lips that could topple empires. When she kisses him, he’s certain he could live and die by the glide of her tongue, the soft exhale of her breath in his mouth. But when she kisses him like this—slow and languid, all gentle suction and teasing nibbles—he’s not entirely certain he isn’t already dead.

Her skin is soft and she smells like her, but also like him. His soap, his shampoo. It’s intoxicating and stirs something within him, something primal and male, a prideful possessiveness that makes him want to throw her over his shoulder and pound his chest. You, Scully. Me, Tarzan. She’d hate it, so he doesn’t say a word, just kisses her harder.

She cups the back of his head with both hands and threads her fingers through his damp hair, tugging gently. A noise bordering on desperate escapes his throat at the sensation, but she swallows it eagerly and holds him closer. His free hand finds the bare expanse of her thigh to steady himself. He massages it with his palm, skating higher and higher until his fingertips brush the edge of his boxers. He freezes.

This is new territory. He’s never touched her like this before. She’s seemed content with soft, stolen kisses, never pushing any farther, and he hasn’t wanted to ask for something she isn’t ready and willing to give.

He’s about to retreat to the safe zone of her knee when her hand comes over his and nudges it higher, guiding him under the hem of the shirt, over her hip, over the top of the boxers, rolled at her waist. He knows it’s illogical, but she feels even softer here. He traces the puckered scar of her gunshot wound and her stomach flexes. She bites his bottom lip and soothes it with soft flicks of her tongue as his hand moves as if drawn by a magnet, up and up until it meets the warm underside of her breast.

“Scully,” he says, pulling away from her hungry mouth with more than a little regret. “Are—are you—”

Thunder crashes hard enough to rattle the windows in their frames as she rests her forehead against his.

“Shh,” she says.

“Are you?” she says.

It’s all he needs. Her small breast is heavy and full in his hand. He squeezes her and she arches into him, her nipple hardening against his palm. She kisses his cheek, his chin, the corner of his mouth as he slips his other hand beneath the shirt to cover her other breast and this is really happening. He’s really fondling Dana Scully’s tits. He’s imagined it so many times, but nothing could prepare him for the warm weight of her, for the way she leans into his touch, for the breathy little gasps she makes as he thumbs her nipples.

The rain, he thinks dimly. He’s here because of the rain. If it were any other night, she’d be at home in her pajamas. But it isn’t any other night, it’s tonight and there’s rain and she’s in his clothes and in his hands and he makes a note to send up offerings to Zeus and Chaac and Indra, and to maybe write a thank-you note to Holman Hardt, just in case.

In the meantime, though, he’ll start by making offerings to her. He gives her his mouth and she accepts, sipping benediction straight from his tongue. He worries her nipples between thumbs and forefingers like prayer beads and she sighs a miracle into existence. He’s never been a praying man, but if this is what it means to be holy, he thinks it’s time to start.

He gathers the bottom of the Knicks shirt in his fist and spares a single moment to entertain the idea of having her just like this before pulling it over her head. At first, all he can do is stare. He’s seen her breasts before, of course. Just last summer, he’d seen them, puckered and frozen at the end of the earth. But he’s never seen them like this—flushed and heaving, her nipples red from arousal, from his fingers.

“You’re staring,” she says like he isn’t aware, and he realizes she might be nervous. Scully. Nervous. With him. Do wonders never cease?

“You’re beautiful,” he says, because it’s the truth and he needs her to know.

The air feels thicker than it did minutes ago. This is more than just kissing, more than just heavy petting. He could go straight for her chest, and he’d like to. He’d like to taste her sternum and map her collarbones and tongue her nipples until she cries from the sheer bliss of it. But he needs her to know, first, that this is more. That she is more.

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her once, twice, sweetly, softly. When he pulls back, his eyes stray to the cut on her cheek. He traces it first with his fingertips and then with his mouth. It doesn’t look nearly as bad as it did on the street now that she’s cleaned it. Just a thin pink line, not even deep enough to scar. She’s had worse, so much worse, because of him and yet she’s here, trembling in his arms, carding her hands through his hair, letting him look and touch and feel.

There’s been some cosmic mix-up, he’s sure, to allow someone like him to have this with someone like her, but if he thinks about it any longer, he’s gonna lose it. So he kisses her again, slow and reverent, then moves lower—his lips on her neck, her clavicle, the hollow of her throat, teasing and testing until finally, finally he closes his mouth around one pert nipple. Her spine stiffens and her hands twist in his hair, pressing him closer as he sucks at her, and then best of all—

“Oh my god.”

It tumbles from her lips easily, and he’s never been so turned on by those three words. His good Catholic girl, blaspheming just for him. He wants to hear it again, so he raises a hand to her neglected breast and pinches her nipple while his teeth tug at the other. Scully squirms in the chair and pushes against him, groaning low in her throat, but that’s not good enough. His mouth and hand trade places and he eases her into it this time with gentle flicks and squeezes, soft kisses and swirls of his tongue. She sighs dreamily above him and he ramps it up, nipping and pulling and—

“God, fuck.”

My, my, my, he thinks. Does your priest know what you do with that mouth?

“Oh god,” she moans again, and maybe there is something to this prayer thing after all. “That feels…oh, god. Please.”

And fuck it if he hasn’t had a million and one dreams of her begging just like that.

“What?” He looks up at her, waits until she meets his gaze, and licks her nipple with the flat of his tongue. Her teeth sink into that plump lower lip and he licks her again. “What do you want, Scully?”

“Touch me,” she says, and he smirks against her breast.

“I am.”

“No. Here.” And then she reaches for his free hand and leads it over her thigh, under the leg of his boxers, over the feather-soft thatch of curls below her belly, then down and oh.

Oh, fuck.

Here she is. His head swims with the reality of it. No preamble, no big reveal, just Scully, hot and slick in his hand.

“Jesus Christ, you’re wet,” he rasps, and she likes it, his prim, polished Scully likes it, because she laughs and moans and bucks against him.

“Uh-huh.”

He traces her folds with two fingers, and she sighs as he nudges her open. He can barely believe he’s done this to her. Him. Forget uncovering government conspiracies. Forget catching criminals. This is his greatest achievement.

When he circles her clit and her moan catches in her throat, he’s certain he’ll never do anything in his life half as amazing as this. Scully clutches a fistful of his t-shirt and angles her hips, guiding him lower still, and who is he to deny her anything? He pauses for a moment, thinks is this really finally happening, and then slips his middle finger into her as a flash of lightning throws his living room into sharp relief. Her head rolls back on her neck, her mouth working around empty syllables.

“Good?” he asks to the curve of her breast.

“Good,” she confirms, squeezing around him. “More.”

He adds a second finger and strokes her from the inside. She’s tight and pulsing and up until now, he’s been doing a pretty good job of not thinking about his cock. But with her lifting her hips to meet him, with her clenching around him when he sucks her nipple or brushes her clit, it’s impossible not to imagine himself sheathed deep within her.

“So good. You feel…so good. Mulder, I—ah.” She shoots off the chair when he works a third finger in, following one of his hunches that have gotten him so far in life, and he worries for a second that he was wrong. Then she bears down on his hand, hips swinging and thrusting, and he realizes he couldn’t have been more right. “Oh, I’m gonna—I’m gonna…”

And he’d like that. He’d like that a lot. But there’s something else he’d like more right now, something selfish, and he takes his hand away.

“Mulder,” she whines—fucking whines, Christ, she’s going to kill him—and tries to pull him back. He grants her a kiss but keeps his hand out of reach.

“I wanna taste you, Scully,” he says into her mouth. “Can I taste you?”

She nods and kisses him and shimmies her hips to help him tug down the underwear, and he sits back on his heels to look. She’s perfect, spread open for him and glistening, and he’s never needed his tongue somewhere so badly before. He presses his face into her lap, nuzzling the soft curls, inhaling her scent, and takes his first taste. She’s salty and tangy and a little bit musky and he’s never going to get enough, of that much he’s sure.

He licks her folds and her clit, dips his tongue into the depths of her, and she makes the most unholy, amazing noises. But he’s too tall and the chair’s too short and the angle of his neck is all wrong.

“Come here,” he says and slides her down into his lap. Her ass connects with his crotch and for a second, all he can do is gasp into her shoulder as stars explode behind his eyes. He could just take her now. He’s had his taste, and she clearly wouldn’t mind, not with the way she’s moving against him like a wriggly little snake. But he set an intention, and he’s going to see it through.

Mulder shifts so he can stretch out on his back on the rug and grips her waist, pulling her upwards. For the second time tonight, she looks nervous, her lip caught between her teeth and a question in her eyes.

“Scoot,” he says and helps her climb his body until her knees are on either side of his head and he’s face-to-face with the center of the universe. “Sit.”

She hesitates, looking down at him through a curtain of hair, and he curls his hands around her thighs and tugs.

“Sit.”

She sits, and her flavor explodes on his tongue.

“Fuck,” she gasps, and that’s it, that’s the ticket.

He experiments a little—does she like it when he licks her like this? How about like that? What if he puts his tongue here?—and finds a rhythm that makes her keen. It’s fast and hard and unrelenting—hell on his jaw, but he’ll suffer through TMJ for the rest of his life before he’ll stop this, especially when she starts to move.

Scully riding his face is quite possibly the single greatest wonder of the world. He thinks of her just hours ago, in her little black pantsuit, a file in her hand, not a hair out of place, and tries to reconcile that image with her now, panting above him, slick with sweat and arousal, her hair messy, her hands on her own breasts, plucking at her nipples.

It’s amazing, really, that he hasn’t come in his pants yet.

Especially when her hips falter and her breath hitches and he only has a moment to think holy shit, this is it before she’s coming. It’s like watching a star explode. She makes lights in the sky look cheap and tawdry in comparison. Her body arches and rolls as she shouts down the storm for him. Never in his life has he thought someone else’s orgasm could feel as good as his own, but damn if she doesn’t prove him wrong. It’s bliss, pure and simple, and he’s silly and dumb with it, drunk off the knowledge that he did that. He made Scully scream.

She pants and falls forward on her hands, keeping him trapped in the sweet, sticky darkness between her thighs and her stomach. There are worse places to be trapped. Far, far worse. But then she seems to come back to herself because she yelps “oh, god, sorry! I’m sorry!” and dismounts. He sits up to look at her.

“Sorry?” He catches her hand and kisses her palm. “Scully, I don’t think I could be happier if I tried.”

She grins, all teeth and happiness, and her eyes slip lower. That eyebrow that’s caused so much frustration through the years arches and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“I dunno,” she says, inching towards him. “I think you probably could.”

Her small hand descends on him through his jeans and he bucks against her in a way that might be embarrassing if her wetness wasn’t still drying on his chin. He aches for her. Aches. He can’t see the clock from here, but he feels like he’s been hard for hours. More than hours. He’s been hard for six years. No amount of adult entertainment or solo gratification has done anything to lessen the insistent throb that’s been building since she first dropped her robe for him on a night not unlike this one.

“Okay, yeah, fine,” he hisses through his teeth as she squeezes him. “You’re right, you’re—Jesus…”

“Mm, no, I’m Scully.” She nuzzles the side of his neck and is he still alive? Is he still in one piece? Somebody open an x-file on this, because surely it’s impossible. “And you are overdressed.”

If they gave awards for quickest undressing, Mulder would win gold by a landslide. He tears his shirt over his head and squirms out of his jeans and boxers, and in less than a minute, he’s bare-assed on his living room floor with his equally bare-assed partner.

He stares at her and she stares at him, and for a moment, they could be anywhere. They could be in a graveyard at midnight. They could be in an autopsy bay at six am. They could be in countless roadside motels in countless cities. In warehouses, in offices, in hospitals, in cars. But then he reaches for her and she reaches for him and they are colliding planets out of orbit that can only be here, now.

When she finally, finally, wraps her hand around his cock and gives him a slow, experimental jerk, root to tip, he dies and is reborn a new man. When she kisses his cheek and then leans lower, her breath ghosting over his abdomen, he just plain dies.

“Scu-uh…” His fingers thread through her hair, encouraging her journey even as his brain screams for the brakes. “If you actually want this to go anywhere, you probably shouldn’t—”

“Hey, Mulder? Shut up.”

And then—

And then.

At least half of all the fantasies he’s ever had comes true as her pink tongue darts out to lick away the dewdrop of moisture on the head of his cock. She squeezes the base and traces him with her tongue like an explorer in a new land, like she can catalogue every bump and ridge, every flavor, every pulse beneath his skin. Ever the scientist, his Scully.

He gazes down at her, transfixed by the improbable image of her, naked and bent over him, her mouth closing around his tip. It’s lewd and incredible and the best fucking thing he’s ever felt in his whole life, holy shit, Scully, where’d you learn to move your tongue like that and can you do it again, Jesus fucking Christ.

She blinks up at him, a smirk in her eyes, and he’s only vaguely aware of saying any of that out loud. His grip on her hair tightens when she begins to suck and he has to practically shove her away when her other hand comes up to cradle his balls, because there’s no way in hell he wouldn’t come from that in two seconds flat.

“Good?” she asks, the minx, swiping her thumb over her bottom lip.

“Like you don’t know.”

He draws her to him and kisses her soundly. Her mouth tastes like him, and it’s never been something he’s found particularly enjoyable before, but she might make a believer out of him yet. She straddles one of his legs and rubs herself against his thigh, and when he pulls back to see her, she has fire in her eyes.

“So how are we doing this?” she asks, like it’s some tactical maneuver and not the one thing they’ve been dancing around for years.

He kisses her jaw. “Anyway you want.”

They end with her on her back, his forearms bracketing her head and her legs splayed wide to make room for his hips. She kisses him long and slow, one of her hands between their bodies to guide him in. As his cock brushes the scorching heat of her, he thinks that he should have taken her to bed, or at least to the couch, because this is Scully for Chrissake and she deserves sheets and pillows and soft surfaces, not this rug with its ground-in Cheeto dust, and when was the last time he vacuumed anyway, and oh god, she’s going to have rug burn on her ass, and what if she already does and—

She lifts her hips.

He stops thinking.

She’s everything he knew she’d be and so much more. Tight, hot, her muscles rippling around him as she adjusts to his size. Her brow furrows and she bites her lip as he sinks all of the way in, and he pauses, fighting against every animal instinct in his body to give her the moment she needs. She pulls him down to rest his forehead against hers and they share the same breath. Short, hitched. It’s so much. Almost too much, and all he can do is move.

Her arms tighten around him as he pulls away and glides back in. She gasps his name and her voice in his ear is as sweet as honey and twice as thick. It’s like coming home.

“Is this…” He grinds his hips and she clenches around him and he chokes. “How—how do you feel?”

“Good.” She kisses his cheek. “Amazing.” His neck. “Full.” His mouth.

His muscles strain and his pelvis aches with the slowness of their rhythm. He could come from this—he could come from just about anything, he’s sure, as long as she was involved—but he’s not so sure about her. She rocks against him lazily, without any sort of insistence, and if he were a better man (a stronger man) he’d give her this sweet rutting until the sun comes up. But he’s not a better man; he’s a man pushing the edges of his self-control, and he needs her to lose it with him.

He shifts his weight to rest on one arm and reaches for her leg with the other. He hooks her knee into the crook of his elbow and presses it up, changing the angle, and when he slides home this time, Scully’s head snaps back and her eyes squeeze shut and she moans, long and low. He speeds up, driving into her with more urgency, and she spurs him on with clenched thighs and a curved spine.

“Fuck. Fuck. Mulder—god.” He twists his arm to fit between their bodies, and it’s a little bit of a stretch, and the angle’s awkward, and his forearm aches, but he manages to find her clit with his fingertips and it’s worth it for the way she whimpers. “Right there. Right there, like that, yes, yes, yes, Mulder, yes, please, yes.”

Of all the ways he’s imagined Scully in bed (or on the floor), loquacious was never one of them. It’s incredible. He joins her with his own string of nonsense, yeses and gods and fuck, Scully, fuck fuck fuck like thats.

She rakes her nails down his spine and he’ll feel the sting in the shower tomorrow and it’ll hurt almost as good as it hurts right now. In return, he buries his face in her neck and bites the sensitive skin there hard enough to make her shudder. She sobs his name, clamps down on him in every possible way, and comes. Just like that. And it’s so good, so deliriously, unbelievably good, because it’s for him, she’s crying out for him and bucking for him, and it’s her, it’s her. He holds on for a second longer, just long enough to see her face, before the spasm of her body pushes him over the edge, and he spills into her with a groan and two erratic pumps of his hips.

The world fades away and he’s aware of only his heartbeat racing behind his ears. Gradually, other things return. A sting in his knees, rug burnt no doubt . Sweat pooling in the small of his back. His cock, twitching as it softens.

And Scully.

God, and Scully. She’s never looked so beautiful. Her hair is a disaster, knotted and stuck to her flushed, damp cheeks. She looks like she does after a chase, after she’s gone a few rounds with a suspect, only better, because there’s no danger now and her lips aren’t bruised from a punch, but from his kisses. And her pupils are blown wide from adrenaline, sure, but also—maybe—if he’s lucky (and he’s feeling pretty damn lucky)—from something else.

“Hey,” she says, breathless and soft.

“Hi,” he says, and kisses her, because what else can he do?

“That was…”

“Worth every year?”

“Something like that.” She grins, and he feels it in his ribcage.

Slipping out of her, he rolls to the side, careful to avoid the coffee table, and pulls her close. She slides a leg between his and rests her cheek over his heart.

He can barely believe it. The proof is here in their slick, sticky bodies, in her drooping eyelids, in the delicious, satisfied ache he feels all the way to his bones. But he can still barely believe it. That they really did it. That it was really so easy when everything else is always so hard. He holds her closer and times his breaths to hers. In, out. Even. Safe.

They lie like that for a while, just holding each other, just breathing.

“The rain stopped,” she says after so long he’s begun to think she might be asleep.

He strains an ear, and she’s right. All is quiet. Even his neighbors, the ones who like to yell. The silence weighs heavy like a blanket over their tangled limbs. The flooding has probably gone down, too.

“Do you want to go?” He won’t stop her if she does, as much as he’ll want to. He knows Scully, knows how she guards herself and needs space to process things. If that’s what she needs tonight, after this, he’ll let her have it. Even if it means going to bed alone.

“Hmm.” She stretches against him and settles down more firmly, nosing his chest hair. “No.”

He hides his grin in her hair. “Okay.”

“But Mulder?”

“Yeah,” he says. Anything, he thinks.

“Can we not sleep on the floor?”

He laughs. He can’t help it. She fucked him and she wants to stay with him and all she needs is a mattress. He loves her so much.

“Yeah. Yeah, Scully, we can not sleep on the floor.”

But they do, at least for a little while. And when they finally peel themselves off the rug, stiff and groggy, she rescues his Knicks shirt from the pile and slips it over her head as she stumbles to his bedroom, and it’s everything.

#msr #the x files #mulder x scully #fox mulder #dana scully #msr fanfic #txf fanfic #xfpornbattle #this is...pure smut tbh #i still don't know how i feel about it #it's my first real venture into this fandom so i'm sorry if it's wildly out of character or something #you know that post that's like 'i'm new and i bring porn'#yeah #txf #myfic #myxfic #mulder #scully #todayinfic

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frangipanidownunder · 7 years

Text

Times Fox Mulder Cried

Revisiting this series because you can never have too much of the Mulder and Scully will-they-won’t-they-dance. You can read the previous instalments here: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Part Five

He was glad to be home. The latest hospital stay was still too raw. Strapped down, the window cruelly opened, the paralyzing fear when the nurse injected him with drugs he didn’t need and hadn’t authorized. As Scully fussed in the kitchen he couldn’t help but wonder if his greatest fear had really been facing the creature that Pincus had become or the fact that for those terrifying minutes his life was entirely out of his control.

“Mulder, would you like some coffee?” Her voice was a bright spot of gold in the stark black of his mood.

Skinner had directed that he and Scully take a week’s leave of absence.

“You’ve had two difficult cases in a row. Your stress levels must be sky-high. I cannot, in all conscience, allow you to continue to investigate any more cases without insisting you both take some down time,” he said, leaning over his hands on the desk. He was looking at Scully when he spoke, but Mulder was in no doubt that Skinner was really addressing him. Mulder finished the unspoken part of Skinner’s message, as they left the office, “and you need to come back with your mental faculties fully restored or you might find that the X-Files are no longer yours.”

They finished coffee and Scully insisted on visiting the video store. She came back with The Fly remake. She flashed him the look when he opened his mouth to object.

“I nearly got One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” She popped a chip in her mouth. “but Jeff Goldblum.”

Was she serious? Insects, mental hospitals. Really, Scully? He shifted a little further away from her, but she just helped herself to more chips and settled back. He felt a little like he had at the hospital. Alien. Not physically, like Pincus. But like he didn’t fit anywhere. Like nobody understood him. Perhaps Skinner was right, he had been more stressed than he realised over the past few weeks. Why was Scully not taking it seriously? Usually she’d be all over him with advice and meaningful looks. But here she was sitting by his side watching bad sci-fi. Admittedly, the scenario was a fantasy of his. But right now his perspective was so skewed that he was finding it hard to focus.

The movie played on. Scully had moved closer, her arm pressing against him. He played with the skin on the inside of his wrist, still sore from the restraints. Scully seemed absorbed. He didn’t have the heart to ask her to turn it off. His stomach was rebelling at the images. He closed his eyes, trying to stave off the impending wave of nausea. Was he having a panic attack? He hadn’t had one of those for years. His breath hitched in his throat and he felt sweat prickling his skin. His heart hammered and no matter how much oxygen he tried to suck in he couldn’t stop the black spots behind his eyes from widening.

His next memory was her hair swinging over his face, her eyes wide, her mouth forming a delicious O. Her face was millimeters away from his. Her hands were on his chest. She was straddled across his waist. He was lying on the floor, next to his couch. How did they get here? Why were they still fully clothed? Why couldn’t he remember kissing her? It struck him as entirely unjust that he should find himself in this position – Dana Katherine Scully astride him on his apartment floor – and he had no memory of the events leading up to it.

“Mulder. Talk to me.”

But what to say in this delicate position? Sweet nothings didn’t seem appropriate. His scientifically rigourous Scully would surely respond to something more profound than his usual, but long-time unused, repertoire of sexual wordplay.

“Um…I want you.”

Lame. Lame. Lame. His head dropped back to the floor. It hurt. A lot.

“Mulder?”

God, her low husky voice was her best one.

“I need you?”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. She didn’t need him to need her. She needed him to revere her, to adore her, to love her.

“What do you need me to do?” She was whispering in his ear now. Her hair tickled the side of his face. Her ass was rolling over his groin and those tiny hands were kneading his chest.

It took a gargantuan effort to concentrate on anything but her presence. She was on top of him, for Christ’s sake. “Kiss me?”

She pulled back, her chin tucking into her neck and her lips pressing together. “What?”

He rubbed his forehead, reality settling in the room like a third wheel. “Kismet, Scully. I said kismet.”

She was standing now, arms folded, eyebrows knitted together. “You fainted.”

He struggled up to his elbows. “I did?”

“You did. And you fell off the couch.”

“I fell off the couch?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Did I pull you on top of me?” He scratched at my head, feeling his hair sticking out all ways. The throbbing at his temples was fever pitch.

“What? No!” She held her arms at her side, clenching her fists. “I couldn’t get you to wake up.”

“So you decided the best way to do that was to sit on me and whisper in my ear, Doctor Scully?”

She huffed out a breath. “Mulder, you were unresponsive. I think you’ve been under so much pressure recently that your body just gave out on you. What’s the last thing you remember?”

You rolling your little ass all over my nether regions?

“You chose The Fly, Scully. Why would you do that?”

“You love The Fly, Mulder. I wanted you to feel comfortable. You needed to relax.” She was biting her lower lip now.

He pulled himself onto the couch and ran a hand over his face. He could barely feel his features. They were numb. “Scully, why are you here? Really?”

“As your physician, I needed to be here to make sure you were coping. You’ve been through a lot, Mulder. The New Spartans, Pincus…”

“I’ve been through worse, Scully.”

Her hands unclenched and she looked down to the floor. Her nose wrinkled. “I thought you wanted me here.” It was barely a whisper. Her chin jutted out. Colour rose high on her cheeks. “You said I was your one in five billion.”

He laughed softly, but his heart did a flip. “Nobody else on this whole damn planet believes you, Scully.” He leaned over her, his facing bearing down on hers.

She shucked out an embarrassed snort. “Mulder.” It was more a holding statement than any declaration of love. She placed a hand on his chest. He moved back. A little.

“Scully, come on. Why are you here? Skinner gave you a week of leave. You should go to the coast…”

“And solve the case of the killer doll again?” Her blue eyes fixed on him.

“Your mother’s then.”

“And listen to her friends tell me about all the bachelors they could fix me up with?”

“Your apartment. Why aren’t you at home?” Yeah, why aren’t you at home, Scully? It’s late.

She took his hands. “Do you really want me to go home, Mulder?”

God no. Never, Scully. Never. “I think you should.”

Her eyes glistened. “You’re a shit liar, Mulder.”

“Then don’t believe me.”

She shifted from one foot to the other. Hesitation. It was all he needed to see. He grabbed her wrists, brought them up between them.

“Mulder, are you okay?”

“I will be if you let me kiss you.”

She shifted to the other foot.

His mouth plunged onto hers. Her lips were soft, pliant, sweet. He let go of her hands and his fingers traced the curve of her spine, the sway of hips, back up to her neck and chin and face.

She pulled away first, leaving him momentarily bereft. “Are we really doing this?”

Those little lines appeared between her brows. The lines that suggested too much thinking was going on in that beautiful mind of hers. He kissed the lines. He kissed her forehead.

“Yeah, we’re really doing this, Scully.”

“For the right reasons?”

His lips brushed her jawline, tasting, teasing, nipping at her neck. He felt the prickle of gooseflesh across her skin. Her nipples hardened. His groin tightened.

“I think that right now there are more right reasons than wrong ones, Scully.”

She snuffled a soft giggle into the side of his face. “You don’t think that lust has caused your judgment to be slightly impaired here, Mulder?”

“Who said anything about lust, Scully?” He scooped her up in his arms, pulling her close, turning round, depositing her back on his couch.

She was eyeline with his groin. “I’d say that lust is about to have a hefty input into this transaction.”

He grinned and let his fingers play with the zipper. “This isn’t lust, Scully.”

“No?” her voice cracked, sending more waves of pleasure around his body.

“No. This is me, Mulder, back in control, faculties intact, conscious, making the best decision of my life.” He sank down on his knees and took his face in his hands. “And this isn’t a transaction, Scully.”

She had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. “Wrong terminology. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. How can I make it up to you?”

“Kiss me where it hurts?”

Giggling, she asked, “where does it hurt, Mulder? Here?” She peppered his face with soft kisses.

God it felt good. She was giving him her mouth, her body, her time. Her trust.

She kissed both his eyes. “Here?”

His throat constricted. He whimpered, clamped his eyelids shut. Did he deserve this?

“Hey,” she whispered, “you’re not going to cry on me, are you?

She put a finger under his chin and lifted his face up. He saw her open before him. Walls down. Ready to relinquish some of her famous control. He shivered.

“It’s not uncommon, the release of emotions, the vulnerability of the human body after sexual satisfaction. There’s no shame in it, Mulder.”

Always the doctor. He shook his head, fighting it. The tears fell anyway. He groaned softly into her neck. “And to think we haven’t even started yet.”

“We’ve been starting for years, Mulder.” She lifted his hand to her breast. “Let’s at least finish, this time.”

#txf fanfic #msr fanfic #my fanfiction

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jurrasicworldcc · 1 year

Text

Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous OC fanfic

Title: Trapped (Part 1)

Characters: Casey (OC), Yasmina Fadoula, Sammy Gutierrez, Darius Bowman, Brooklynn, Kenji Kon, Ben Pincus, Bumpy

Setting: During the six-month time skip between Season 2-3

Plot: During a terrible storm, Casey tries to save the family portrait of the camp fam that he painted recently but gets swept along the stream and on the other side of the island.

I do not own anything!!!

————————————————————————

The rain and wind roared through the forest. Casey clung onto a pole at camp and Yaz huddled close to Sammy. Brooklynn shrieked at the thunderclap that happened and Bumpy roared.

“Bumpy!” Ben called out as Bumpy ran off out of fright.

“This storm’s really frickin’ crazy!!” Kenji yelled from the loud wind.

“Yeah!” Darius called out.

Casey gulped in horror and the painting that he made of the Nublar Seven flew out of the base and onto the grass. “No!”

He went down the stairs and braved the storm that was happening. Darius took notice of this and asked, “What is Casey doing down there?!?!”

“He’s getting the painting that he made of us!” Yaz answered.

“He’s risking his life over a stupid painting?!” Kenji asked.

“Yes! And we’re his family so we gotta help him!”

Casey grunted at the strong wind and managed to get the painting which luckily was still dry. He gave the painting to Yaz which she then gave to Sammy and then Brooklynn managed to get it somewhere safe.

Suddenly, a giant gust of wind blasted towards Casey and he fell into the giant stream of water. “GUYS!!!”

“Casey!” Darius yelled.

“GUYS!!! DARIUS!!!! YAZ!!!! BROOKLYNN!!!! KENJI!!!! BEN!!! SAMMYYY!!!!”

Darius grabbed Casey’s hand and Yaz tried to help him but the wind was beginning to become too strong for them. Darius could faintly see Casey’s tears since his face was already wet, this suddenly reminded him of Ben’s fall off the monorail all that time ago. The wind was roaring and then Casey’s hand slipped out of Darius’ hand.

“Casey!!” Darius called out.

Casey yelled as he was swept along the River and Darius yelled, “Hold on!!”

“We’ll get Casey later! We gotta get out of this storm now!” Brooklynn said.

The others ran towards the camp and Brooklynn pretty much screamed, “NOW!!!!”

Darius came out of his trance and Yaz uttered, “We’re so sorry, Case…”

Casey screamed and cried as he was swept along the current and then suddenly hit his head on a rock and…the world went black.

The Next Day

Yaz sighed as she lifted a stick off the table at Camp. Darius groaned and uttered, “We lost a lot of rations in that storm…and Casey…”

“We gotta find him.” Sammy said.

“Sorry, Sam, but we don’t know a single clue to where he is. I mean, we’ve only used that stream for water and Kenji’s 45-minute showers.” Yaz replied.

“Hey!” Kenji yelled from afar.

“But that doesn’t mean that he’s dead.” Ben added to a counterclaim. “We could look around to know where he went.”

Darius nodded. “Ben’s right. We don’t know if Casey’s still alive but we can find out if we go look for him.”

“I can get Bumpy and I can go find him.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll come.” Sammy added.

“I’ll go if Sammy is!” Yaz exclaimed until her cheeks suddenly flushed red. “…….and B-Ben. Yeah, Ben too. Duh.”

“Okay, Brooklynn and Kenji are gonna stay with me and clean up camp.” Darius explained the rest of the plan.

Ben went over to Bumpy and said, “C’mon, Bumper Car.”

He got onto the Ankylosaurus and the two girls mounted on too. With that, the search for Casey had begun.

Elsewhere

Casey groaned as he found himself being dragged by an allosaurus and kicked it in the nose. “HEY! NOT DEAD! NOT DEAD!”

The allosaurus roared and ran off. Casey looked around and asked, “What happened??”

He suddenly remembered that he was swept from a current and uttered, “Why did they abandon me?”

He proceeded to stand up and looked around for his surroundings. “Okay…I just gotta make it back…Where exactly am I???”

#camp cretaceous oc #jurassic world camp cretaceous #brooklynn jwcc #kenji kon #sammy gutierrez #yasmina fadoula #darius bowman #fanfic #ben pincus #camp fam #trapped fanfic

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ren1327 · 3 years

Text

Saltwater Room

One shot based on a little interaction between @zariawolf1zariathedinokid and me listening to Owl City while jacked up on Red Bull

"Kenji has been seeing a merman in the water over the last year."

TW: Hints of suicide, please tred carefully

----------------------------------------------

Kenji looked down at the water.

“Honey?” He heard his mother call, dressed in a robe and some rainboots.

“I saw him again…” Kenji said softly, looking off into the grayish water.

“Your friend?” She asked and sat next to him.

“Yeah…” He whispered.

Candy wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.

“Come inside now, Mijo…” She whispered back.

He got up wordlessly and followed her, trying desperately not to look back when he heard splashing under the wooden dock.

Kosei’s hand was warm on his shoulder.

“I think this could be good for you.” He said as Kenji looked at the treatment center.

“I’m not crazy.” He said.

“Kenji…there’s no one there and those drawing of yours…”

“The mermaids?” He scoffed. “You’re worried I draw mermaids?”

“One in…in particular, Son.”

Kenji pushed away from his father.

“Kenji!” Kosei called, but Candy held his arm, her sad eyes begging him to give their son some breathing room.

“…And there’s this treatment center in Monterey Bay they want me to stay at for a few weeks.”

There was a splash to his left, and he smiled at the person in the water, big gray eyes looking up at him, chestnut hair held back by an old blue bandana. He surfaced a bit, pink skin on display that gave way to shiny pale blue scales and translucent fins. He smiled with too sharp teeth.

“Why do you always hide from everyone but me?”

The merman smiled wider and Kenji cupped his cheek, the other leaning into the touch, eyes gazing up at him.

He blinked and he was in the same place, but next to him was a human boy dressed in khaki shorts, a short sleeved blue button up and hair brushed to the side. He was blushing.

“I love you, Kenji.”

“I love you too.” He said and when he blinked, both the boy and the merman were gone.

“…with the guilt?”

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked and looked up.

He was now in a warm room that smelled like daisies and was decorated in bluish green colors and white. He was sitting, no reclined in a navy blue chair.

“Do you struggle with the guilt?” A plump middle aged woman asked from a plush sea foam green love seat.

“Guilt?”

“I mean, it was your idea to go for a joyride, wasn’t it?” She asked. “And I hate to bring up that you were the one speeding when the car went off the curve and into the water—”

“I really-!” Kenji stood up. “I can’t!”

“Kenji! Let’s take a deep breath!” She said, standing slowly. “Sandra Pincus—”

“NO!” He yelled and ran out.

He was back at the beach, the merman next to him.

“He would have been eighteen today.” He said softly.

The merman tilted his head.

“My…my boyfriend…died on his birthday.” He said. “No…I killed him.”

He took a breath and looked out at the waves.

“I really loved him. I didn’t…I didn’t think we’d last. I thought, hey! He’s cute, I’ll give it a shot.” He said, sniffing as his face heated and nose ran. “But he was more than cute. He was…sweet and sarcastic and a germaphobe sometimes and this badass at others and…I wanted us to go for a little drive, y’know?”

“And then?”

He looked at the merman, now the boy.

“I was scared we’d break curfew, and I didn’t want to get in trouble. It started raining…”

“And?”

“I was speeding when we were going to hit that curve you hated. Always made your stomach flip.” Kenji chuckled. “I should’ve slowed down…”

“But you didn’t.”

“And all the bad things and bad decisions…We flipped over the guard rail.” Kenji said. “Some people saw me, and they were able to get me out before the car was submerged. I was so dizzy but…I kept yelling.”

“Help him.”

“They couldn’t find you. Couldn’t find your body. Thought it got washed out to sea.” He sobbed. “And the worst part was no one blamed me when I knew it was my fault!”

The boy smiled and took Kenji’s face in his hands.

Kenji felt the tide coming in, water splashing over his thighs from where he sat.

“You have to let me go.” Ben whispered.

“I cant.”

“Kenji, if you don’t let me go, you’ll never wake up.” Ben said and Kenji gasped.

“I can't let you go, Ben…”

“Kenji…”

“I love you.” He whispered.

Ben smiled with too sharp teeth and kissed him softly.

"I love you too." He whispered and Kenji clutched onto him as the water rose higher and higher...

Kosei sighed as he stared off into the water.

“Do you think we’ll ever know what happened?” He asked his wife, who bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

“They said it was an accident.” She said. “When the tide came in he just stayed there and…”

Kosei hugged his wife and felt her sob.

They both gasped as they heard two loud splashes and a thud. Kosei walked over to their dock, seeing a large blue seashell and a dark blue bandana. Candy let out a surprised scream when two figures swam out to sea.

Kosei breath left him when he saw blue scales, pink skin and chestnut colored hair. And next to it, navy scales, tan skin and black hair.

He blinked and they were gone, Candy clutching his arm as they stared out into the waves.

#camp cretaceous fanfic #jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #jwcc #kenji x ben #jwcc benji #wildcity #kenben #ben x kenji #Kosei and Candy Kon #tumblr exclusive

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ren1327 · 3 years

Text

Sweater Weather Ch.10

Hello all and happy fall.

As I post this, I am concluding the last chapters of Sweater Weather. I'm so happy you guys have been with me so far.

I will be posting it all when completed on my AO3.

Thanks again!

----------------------

Ben smiled as Bumpy sat dutifully in her larger than necessary kennel. She was given her doggie bed, pee pads, food, water and many toys. A dogwalker would come twice for her per Kosei and sit in the hotel suite and watch tv with her out of the kennel.

“You’ll be fine.” Ben said to the already spoiled pooch.

He patted down his waist coat, happy it was actually roomy despite how snug it looked.

Kosei frowned a bit as straightened his tie.

“Ben, I must talk to you before everything happens.” Kosei sighed.

“Yes, Sir?” He asked.

“…” Kosei bit his left side of his bottom lip like Kenji did when stressed before releasing it.

“Sir?”

“This is the first time the public will see Kenji with a boyfriend.”

“…oh…” Ben breathed. “I-I never thought—”

“No.” Kosei said and put his hands on Ben’s shoulders, the palms hot. “Do not be intimidated by small-minded people. I say this because I worry how you shall be seen. They do not know you. They don’t know the kind and thoughtful young man we know.”

Kosei sighed again.

“What I mean is…I worry about how you will take being in the spotlight. I know Kenji can take care of himself but…I want you to feel safe too, Ben.”

Ben smiled and nodded. “I do. With Kenji and you guys…I feel…”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“I feel absolutely safe and included a-and that’s all I could want.” He said.

Kosei smiled back. “I’m happy to hear that…Son.”

He walked off, leaving Ben a blushing, stuttering mess.

“Wow.”

Ben jumped to see Carmen in the door of one of the bedrooms, grinning smugly.

“Carmen! You look amazing!” He praised, seeing her hair loose and curled. She wore a high-low asymmetrical mid length dress with a gold chain, white lace halter strap neckline, thick purple sash belt and black skirt.

“Not bad, right?” She asked.

Candy came out with a red sheer overlay skirt that hugged her curves and opened on halfway up to her left thigh. She also wore a black sash belt and was decked out in gold jewelry. Kosei came back and his mouth fell open, his wife smiling and walking to him.

He held a hand out to her and she smiled up at him when he kissed her palm, eyes gazing at her warmly.

“I think I gained weight.” She suddenly said and Kosei chuckled.

“You will always look beautiful to me, my Love.” He said and hugged her plump body close. “More to love even if you did.”

She giggled and Kenji walked in behind Kosei.

“Are you guys sure you’re okay with this?” He asked. “I know this might be a little…much.”

“Are you kidding?” Candy asked. “Jacob’s idea was great. Nuts to traditional Christmas colors!”

“Except us?” Kosei asked.

She hummed and nodded.

Kenji stroked down his waistcoat made of magenta, teal and violet ivy like designs on the black fabric.

“Of course.” Kosei said once he connected the dots.

“Bisexual, male love and non-binary!” Carmen said excitedly, gesturing to herself and the couple.

“Self-love is the best gift.” Ben said and winked at her.

Carmen walked over to Bumpy’s kennel to say her goodbyes as Kenji walked over to Ben.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, I-”

Ben’s phone beeped.

“You get that. I’ll meet you by the elevator, Babe.” Kenji said and kissed his cheek.

“Okay!” Ben called as he was left in the room.

He took out his phone and gasped. “Uncle Dave! Hi, how was-”

“Benjamin Fitzgerald Pincus!” A deeper voice boomed.

“Oh…hi, Uncle Barry.”

“When were you to call us about you being homeless!”

“I…I um…”

“Where are you?” Barry asked.

“Seattle…with a…” He swallowed and took a breath. “With my boyfriend. I’m meeting his family for the holidays.”

“J-“

“No! No, not him. Not…his name is Kenji. He’s…he’s so good to me, Dave-“

“KENJI KON?!” Barry roared and there was a commotion over the phone before he heard it beep and put on speaker.

“Why are you dating your school bully?” Dave’s voice finally came through.

“He’s changed, he really has! This isn’t a abuse thing or…he’s so much better, I promise.” Ben started. “His family is so kind and he has a little sister-“

“You could have died that night, Ben!” Dave said.

“And on top of this, going from one abusive beater to the other—”

“LET ME FINISH!” Ben yelled, making Bumpy yelp.

He panted. “I know what he did. I know who he was awful. His sister is going through the same thing and he needed help and perspective and we just…I see him now. I see who he is. And I really like it. I really like him. He’s trying so hard to be a better person and he is! For me, for his family, for himself. Kenji Kon is not the boy from back then. And I…”

He sniffed and smiled.

“I think I love him.”

There was silence before Barry huffed.

“If he dares hurt you again, I will twist his little head from his body.”

“Baby, go take a walk or punch the bag outside.” Dave said.

“I swear I will. No one hurts my favorite nephew.”

“I’m your only nephew.” Ben said.

“Still. Text me later.”

“I will.” Ben said and heard a screen door shut.

“We’re moving back to Texas. Barry got a job at UTSA. So…are you still in school?”

“Yeah, we can…”

“…I want you to move in with us, just for a bit until we can…y’know. Know this new Kenji Kon.”

“I think I can do that. I’m sorry I kept this from you.”

“Where are you living now?” Dave asked, voice cracking with emotion.

“Sam and Yaz.”

Dave let out a breath. “Thank god.”

“I’m gonna be okay, Uncle Dave.” Ben said.

“I’m still a little bit....Oh. And…yep, my husband just punched a hole in a punching bag. That would be so hot if I weren’t mad myself.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll be home after New Year’s. I think Kenji might come down there with me.”

“Why?”

“Well, you remember that dream I had?”

“Benjamin Fitzgerald Pincus!” Dave laughed.

Kenji knew his hand was sweaty, clutching his boyfriend's tight.

So many eyes were on them as they walked in, Carmen sticking close to Ben’s other side as they made their way into the ballroom.

Many people were mingling and a few couples dancing as an orchestra made of people dressed in white and black played a soft waltz. He was a little nervous that their own table was front and center, right next to the stage and dance floor. He pulled out Carmen’s chair first, then Ben’s.

He was about to sit when he saw a few familiar faces. One waving him over and the other trying to hide his face.

“I’m going to get us some drinks.” He said.

“But there are waitstaff-” Carmen started.

“Cranberry watermelon juice coming up!” He said and squeezed Ben’s shoulder.

“Sounds great.” Ben said with a confused look.

Kenji quickly moved over to a pillar where two men his age were.

“Is that Pinky?” Eric asked.

“Ben.” Kenji said with a stern look.

“Ben…” Zach repeated. “And Ben is your…”

“Boyfriend, Zach.” He said, chest puffing in pride. “Ben is my boyfriend.”

“…” Zach looked from Kenji to Eric and hissed. “Damn it.”

“Pay up!” Eric said and Zach handed him two twenties.

“Uh-what?”

“We knew you liked Pincus.” Zach said.

“No, I knew he liked Pincus.” Eric said.

“Ben!” Kenji corrected.

“Ben.” Zach said awkwardly. He looked at Eric who just looked back with a blush. He puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath. “Uh…So I guess your both over High School.”

“Not really?” Kenji said. “That night...It will always be there. I almost made my future boyfriend have a deadly asthma attack while half naked because I couldn’t get over that I liked a boy. But now, I’m going to be better. I am moving forward.”

“Whoa...Look who got his big boy shorts.” Eric said. “I’m happy for you man.”

Kenji nodded.

“Come say hi.”

“No.” Both men said.

“Guys. Ben is…so awesome. Please. Its been so long and I…I kinda miss you know...having you guys around.”

“Aw, Ken…” Eric said.

“Ha! Ken and Ben, oh, no! I got it! Benji!” Zach said. “Like a celebrity couple name! Benji!”

“What?” Kenji asked, trying not to laugh. “Okay, enough, come meet my boyfriend.”

“What does this mean for you and Brook—”

“Zach, shut up. Its Benji night.”

“No.” Kenji said with a grimace. “We are not making that a thing.”

“I don’t know, put on the internet and watch it go.” Zach said.

“I like KenBen better.” Eric said. “Or maybe Koncus, no! Kenjamin.”

“Oh, wait, you were super wild and now we’re in the emerald city so…er…Wildcity?”

“That makes no sense. No one would ever use that.” Kenji said.

He flagged down a waiter and got two wine glasses filled with cold cranberry juice and frozen watermelon balls on a skewer. He walked over to the table and Ben stood up, face paling when he saw who he was with.

“Ben.” Eric said and handed over his extra glass.

Ben took it. “Hi Eric. How’s the store?”

“Chain stores now. All over the southwest area. Kirby Paint and Tile Plus is about to go full US. Ha…” Eric said, looking at his remaining drink.

“Ben we such dicks!” Zach blurted.

“Such dicks!” Eric repeated. “We’re so sorry you…that we…we’re sorry Ben!”

“We feel awful!” Zach said.

“Seriously, I had a chip on my shoulder before my parents got counseling.”

“And when my parents had their own divorce and focused on my brother more, we just took it out on you and that was not cool!”

“Like, really not cool.”

Ben blinked and stuttered. “Um, its okay. I forgive you.”

“Dude. We love Kenji and that means by extension, you are so part of the group.” Zach said.

“Yeah. Kenji said you were renovating a place in San Antonio. I got a few stores there if you need a sponsor!” Eric said. “My Mom really wants to find a way to directly support trans kids. She said they have the highest rate of…yeah.”

He cleared his throat.

“We at Kirby Paint and Tile Co. would love to sponsor the Sandra Pincus Center.”

Ben whirled around to look at Kenji.

“The Sandra Pincus Center?” He asked softly, voice barely audible.

“I thought it might keep her memory alive. She loved you so much and now you’re…you’re giving it back. Your family will help so many other families and it started with her.” Kenji said.

He noticed his boyfriend had gone silent, looking at the floor.

“Ben, I didn’t mean to—”

Ben pulled him into a kiss, ignoring the stares and flashes of cameras as he smiled blissfully into the kiss with his boyfriend.

“Kenji I really lo-Darius?!” He said as he saw his best friend staring at him, dressed in a yellow tux with black accents.

“Darius?” Kenji asked and turned. “Wha-What are you doing here?”

“He’s with me.” Brooklynn said and walked to his side in a matching glitzy gold dress.

Ever present were her fathers, Grayson in a high neck black and red lace backless dress. Her other father, a tall broad Afro-Latino man by the name of Jasper was in a matching tux with a red lace pocket square to match his husband’s dress. He pinned Kenji with too pale blue eyes. A few stands of his long brown hair has escaped his ponytail making him look more intimidating to the others.

Ben took a step back and Kenji immediately moved in front of him, making the couple blink in surprise, Grayson seeming to back off as Jasper curled his lip. Brooklynn placed a hand on his arm. “Sorry, could you guys sit down? I need a second.”

“Take your time, Babygirl.” Jasper crooned, southern accent thick and gravely. “But don’t be afraid to get us if need be.”

He glared at Kenji and placed a hand on Grayson’s shoulder.

“Come now, Love.” Grayson said softly, face softening as he looked at Ben. “Let them work it out. I want to see Candy and Kosei.”

Jasper nodded and Grayson took his arm, leading him to the other couple near the stage.

Kenji felt Ben relax beside him as Darius walked over.

“I meant to tell you.” He said.

“Dude…” Kenji made a face. “How long—"

“Kenji, can I talk to you?” Brooklynn interrupted.

“Um…” He looked at Ben who nodded, still looking a little shaken.

He quickly sidestepped Darius and walked with Brooklynn to an unoccupied corner.

“Brooklynn-”

“No.” She held up a perfectly manicured fingernail, snowflake designs over a polished French manicure.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her walls fall and appearing flustered.

“I need to do this before I lose my nerve.” She said. “Are you gay?”

Kenji gave her a flat look and held his hands out to his outfit.

“Brooklynn, look at my vest.” Kenji said and huffed. “No. I just…I kinda always liked Ben.”

“Ben…he’s…The one you tied to the pole…” She said.

“We’re working through it.” He sighed.

“Okay. Okay.” She said and took a deep breath. “And don’t start apologizing. Please, I…I’m okay now and I’ve met a really sweet nerdy guy who you and also Ben apparently know.”

“Yeah…”

“Kenji!” She made a face and waved her hands. “This is so awkward!”

Kenji laughed. “Its okay. I get it. Brooklynn. I miss you-as a friend. And I’m…I want to be friends again if it’s okay.”

She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled.

“Me too.” She made another face, hand going to fluff her high bun. “Another weird question but…I…Did you ever feel comfortable with…”

“I recently discovered I’m demisexual.”

“Oh, Kenji!” She gasped. “I’m so—”

“I consented Brooklynn, And I did feel…y’know. Me and you, we’re okay. And if it’s okay, I’d like to put that behind us. We’re obviously happy with our current partners and I really want you back in my life.”

She smiled and tilted her head from side to side. “Fiancé”

“What?! Oh my god, that’s awesome!” He said.

She held out her arms. “Friends?”

“Yes!” He said and hugged her. “Now. You need to be awkward with Ben. I love him and…”

“No, I don’t want to be.” She whined before she noticed his pause. “Kenji?”

“Oh my god…” He chuckled. “I…I love Ben.”

#jwcc sweater weather #jwcc benji #ben pincus #kenji kon #wildcity #kenjamin #jwcc fanfic

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ren1327 · 3 years

Text

Sweater Weather Ch. 9

Hello all and happy autumn.

Remember that chapters will be posted Wednesdays and Sundays until completion! Thanks again for your support!

-------------------------------------------------------

Ben felt as if the sidewalk was falling from under him as green eyes pinned them in place.

Brooklynn Roth.

Kenji's ex.

She was beautiful and looked so…much better than him to be honest.

Her eyes flicked to him, then rested on Bumpy, who was sitting dutifully at their feet, tongue hanging out.

“Cute pup.” She said, face stone still.

“Right! Ben, this is…Brooklynn.” Kenji said and Ben held out a hand to shake, Brooklynn giving his hand a firm squeeze before releasing it.

“Ben Pincus.” Ben said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Brooklynn said with a small smile before she saw Ben’s other hand entwined with Kenji’s. “Am I interrupting—”

“Yes.” Ben said with an apologetic look that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry, but we’ve been so busy recently that we haven’t been able to take a walk with our furbaby.”

Brooklynn flinched and blinked. She looked at Kenji who looked at the ground.

“Right.” She said. “I guess I can always talk to you at the hotel, per your…”

“Boyfriend.” Ben said and Brooklynn audibly gasped.

“W-Wow.” She said, shaking her head a bit. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Kenji said and pulled Ben close, leaning on him.

“I’ll leave you two to your night out.” She said, turning and looking over her shoulder. “Bye Kenji. Nice meeting you, Ben.”

She quickly walked down the street to the older couple, walking past them towards the hotel as they scrambled to catch up with her, one of them looking upset as he tried to speak to her.

“Okay, what was that?” Kenji asked once they were down the road.

“What was what?” Ben muttered, picking up Bumpy and waking the opposite of Kenji’s ex.

“That!” Kenji said, keeping pace with the shorter man.

“Well, you weren’t any help.” Ben said with a huff.

“Help with what?” Kenji asked.

Ben whirled and Kenji took a step back into an alley.

“You were so quiet and shy and awkward, like you’re still pining over her!” Ben said. “I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I?”

“Wait…” Kenji grinned. “Oh my god…you’re jealous!”

“Shut up, I am not.” Ben said, cheeks reddening.

“You’re going pink!” Kenji pointed out.

“Stop it.! No, I'm not.” Ben muttered, holding Bumpy up to hide his face.

The dog wagged her tail and licked Kenji’s nose. Kenji took the small dog in one arm and pulled Ben close, nuzzling his hair.

“Ben. You are my boyfriend, all cute five feet of you.”

“5’4.” Ben huffed and wrapped his arms around Kenji’s waist, Bumpy’s tail slapping his cheek as it wagged happily.

“5’4.” Kenji sighed happily and looked down at Ben.

“I’m…I’m not sorry.” He said sternly. “I am your boyfriend.”

“But I still hurt her.” Kenji reminded him.

Ben pulled away. “Oh…oh my god!”

“Yeah.”

Ben grabbed the sides of his face. “And I just…”

“Yup.”

“That was such a dick move!” Ben moaned.

“It was.”

“I gotta apologize!” Ben said and moved past Kenji.

“Wait.” Kenji gently took his wrist, bowing his head. “Wait, Ben.”

Ben looked up at him. “What?”

“That...eh...that can wait another night. I kinda want you all to myself.” Kenji said, looking up through his lashes at Ben.

“All to yourself?” Ben asked smugly with a blush.

“Yup. Just me, my cute boyfriend and our furbaby.” Kenji said and leaned down to kiss Ben.

Ben chuckled and leaned up...then Bumpy licked his lips.

“Ew!” He laughed and wiped his face.

Kenji smiled and put the dog down, she wagging her tail and barking happily as Ben took Kenji’s hand, the three of them walking to a café.

Kenji sighed happily as he spooned Ben in their bed. Bumpy was snoring next to the smaller man, Ben leaning a thin textbook on her back and using Kenji’s arm as a pillow. Kenji had the same arm holding his phone as he looked through Carmen’s insta, smiling at the pics of her and Kosei at the heated indoor pool.

He kissed Ben’s hair and scrolled to one of her with their mom getting facials.

‘Ugh, look at that double chin’

Kenji took a breath.

‘You think she could hire a PT’

He counted backwards in his head.

‘Cowman Kon really needs to—’

“Kenji?” Ben asked.

“Hm?”

“Your arm.”

Kenji noticed his arm muscles were taunt, veins rising with his rage. He took a breath as Ben shifted to turn to face his boyfriend, his eyes flicking to his phone.

“It’s…them…”

Ben took his phone and read the comments. He closed the app and put the phone on the table.

“Want to come along with us?” He asked. “For our shopping trip?”

Kenji sighed as Ben cupped his face. “No…No. Dad and I are gonna hit the gym and sauna tomorrow.”

Ben blinked and blushed and Kenji grinned.

“What? Imagining me at the gym?” Kenji asked and leaned in close.

“Uh…”

“Working out?”

“Um…”

“Flexing?”

“Kenji…”

“Sweaty?”

Ben squeaked and Kenji laughed, sitting up and taking off his shirt.

“Kenji…Bumpy’s right here.” Ben said and Kenji blushed.

“What? No! Not that…I um…”

Ben sputtered and covered his face.

“Um…” He chuckled nervously. "Then why..."

“I was just…”

“Showing off?” Ben asked, peeking through his fingers.

“Yeah.”

Ben slowly took off his own shirt and Kenji’s spine went ramrod straight.

“You’re…really pink.”

“Give it a rest, Kon.” Ben said, cheeks, ears, shoulders and chest red.

He held out his arms.

Kenji smiled and hugged him, shivering at warm skin meeting warm skin. He laid them down and Ben looked up at him.

“Do you…feel safe with me?” Kenji asked.

Ben blinked and looked away, then smiled and kissed Kenji softly.

“I do.”

Kenji pulled him back into a kiss, hugging him closer.

“Ben…” Kenji sighed happily.

“Kenji.” Ben whispered back as Kenji peppered kisses on his cheek and down his jaw.

“Something has been bothering me.” Kenji said. “About me.”

“Kenji, I’m okay.” Ben said. “I feel safe—”

“I cant have sex!” Kenji said quickly.

“W-What?” Ben asked.

“I don’t…like having sex.” Kenji said. “Not off the bat. It takes…time? Lots of time?”

“You’re demisexual?” Ben asked.

“There’s a name for it?” Kenji asked, sitting up.

Ben chuckled and nodded. “I think so., but I cant be sure. I mean, I'm not you.”

Kenji breathed out a laugh. “I just thought…I…I was…broken or something.”

“Stop.” Ben said gently and took his hands, sitting up. “Look at me.”

Kenji nodded and looked up, eyes wetter and red around the rims.

“You are you, Kenji Kon. Your sex drive won’t change that I really like you. And even if we don’t work out, I know you’ll find someone who understands.”

Kenji nodded. “So you’re okay with waiting? Even if it might never happen?”

“I’m dating you, not your dick.” Ben said and Kenji laughed.

“But…” Ben said. “Do I have permission to ogle my boyfriend?”

“Um, yeah!” Kenji said and leaned close. “Can we uh…can we make out now?”

"Like right now?" Ben asked. "When my professors are breathing down my neck with my upcoming midterms?"

"Uh...yeah?"

“God, yes.” Ben said and hugged him.

Ben was all smiles as he sipped his coffee in the elevator.

After a night of kisses and an unsuspected tickle fight that ended in Ben and Kenji rolling off the bed, he had woken to breakfast in bed and more kisses between his morning routine.

After a final kiss and too tight hug that popped his back, Ben left to meet Carmen and Candy in the lobby.

The two women smiled at him as he came down and Ben’s smile fell as he noticed one of the men who was walking with Brooklynn talking to Candy. He had white-blond hair with the ends dyed the same pink as Brooklynn’s and her piecing green eyes.

“Ben!” Candy said. “Come meet a friend of mine.”

Ben tried to hide behind his coffee as the man stared him down.

“This is Grayson Roth.” Candy said. “Grayson, this is Ben, Kenji—”

“Kenji’s boyfriend.” He said. “We met last night.”

Ben nodded and looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry. Last night was…awkward.”

“Quite.” Grayson said, then sighed heavily. “I will see you tomorrow night?”

“Yes.” Candy said with a smile, hugging him.

The beautiful man smiled and hugged her back. Then smiled at Carmen as she gave him a one armed hug.

Grayson looked at Ben, then blinked, eyes softening. “Take care, Ben. I’m sorry things started off…awkward.”

“Yeah.” Ben said as the older man slunk off.

“Wow.” Carmen said. “You okay, Hermano?”

“Yeah.” Ben repeated. “Um, let’s go.”

Ben winced as a pin stuck his shoulder.

“Careful!” The head tailor told his younger employee, his thick southern accent cutting through the soft classical piano playing throughout the shop. “I am so sorry, Mr. Kon.”

“Uh, Pincus. I’m…dating a Kon.” He said with a blush. “And it’s okay. I know it’s going to take a lot of work for this suit by tomorrow.”

“Ooh, dating a Kon?” the other seamstress asked. “The girl?”

“Hush, Paige.” The tailor chided. “And it’s no issue, Mr. Pincus. With this suit you will become a Kon yet.”

Ben blushed deeper.

“Yes, you look wonderful in powder blue with smooth icy gray lapels…” The tailor continued. "Like a rose surrounded by snow."

“I would think peak lapels would be classer, Jacob.” Paige said.

“You’d be wrong.” The man huffed. “Much too severe. You must show off the masculine beauty his shoulders have, the sharpness of his chin, the slim line of his waist. Peak lapels will distract and make him look like a boy playing dress up at a casino!”

“You’d look good in peak lapels.” Another tailor said.

“Cause I’m round as bee, Toffee, now both of you focus.” Jacob said, looking at fabric for Ben’s waistcoat.

“A waist coat?” Ben asked, peaking at the label he held for the fabric. “I think Kenji is going without.”

“Kenji?” Jacob asked, hands pausing as he turned, his whole body stiff like a music box doll. “You are dating Kenji Kon?”

“U-Uh…yes?” Ben asked.

“Throw that out.” He instructed his two assistants. “From the top!”

“Uh, what?” Ben asked as he was stripped of the fabric they had been pinning for over an hour.

“Measurements?” Jacob asked.

“Here.” Toffee said, giving him a notepad.

“Colors?”

“Check!” Paige said, holding out another printed piece of paper.

“Anyone have a copy of Kenji Kon’s tux design?”

“Here.” Toffee said, holding up a tablet.

“Simple…but oh so easy.” Jacob said with a smile.

"What are you thinking?" Toffee asked. "Something out there?"

"Hm, tell me, Sweetie." Jacob asked Ben. "All your dreams with and without the young Kon."

"Um...I want to open an advocacy center?" He said. "For queer kids in Texas."

"Ah..." The tailor grinned and took out a stylus. "Lucky for you, I am free as a bird..."

"Um, what does that mean?'

“If your dressing up for the little prince, then we have a whole different game plan.” Jacob told Ben with a smirk and a wink. "And this white rose shall instead be blue!"

He walked over to a color wheel of fabric and held it up, the other two nodding eagerly as he placed it against Ben’s cheek and neck.

“He’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” Paige said with a grin.

“Well, Seattle is the Emerald City.” Jacob said, smiling at the shiny teal green fabric that shimmered. “But emerald is not welcomed with his complexion. We need something to compliment him, elevate those rosy cheeks and pink lips while making a statement of who he is. His first impression must be bold.”

He tapped his chin.

“Actually, I have a burst of inspiration!” He said. “That wedding party that cancelled and left those bridesmaids dresses…get me a lace train and an iron! I have a whole theme going on here. Where is Mrs. Kon, I must tell her my idea!”

Ben watched him sketch a few things as two similar colored but totally different dresses were brought in, smiling when Carmen came in and gasped at the sketches leaning against them to make one dress.

"Miss Kon, can you answer a few questions for me?" The tailor asked and Carmen grinned when she saw many familiar flags printed out on a table, one gaining her attention immediately.

Kenji sighed as he stood under a cool shower after his sauna.

Today had been more emotionally fulfilling than all of his years with his father.

They had talked about his future and he had confided in his father his wish to be a chef and open a small café along Ben’s advocacy center. Kosei had been silent before asking if he would like to go to culinary school.

“Just the basics, but I still want to kind of keep my mind on business and maybe some architectural classes?” He had said.

“That’s very ambitious.” Kosei had said as they sipped cool water and lounged in robes in a small alcove in the spa area. “Ben’s doing?”

Kenji ran his fingers up Bumpy’s spine as she chewed on a plush toy sleepily.

“Mine.” He said. “I want to try new things for myself.”

Kosei smiled over the rim of his cup. “That’s all I ever wanted for you, my son.”

He and his father had split and he walked into his room and gasped seeing Ben in a mint blue and green outfit.

Ben wore a pale teal tuxedo tailcoat jacket with gold colored lace patterns weaved into the lapels and down the back. He had matching pants, pressed and pinned to hug his legs and hips, a waist coat of seafoam green and blue with white gold buttons finishing the outfit as Ben carefully took off his new navy oxfords.

He looked as if snow, the ocean and seafoam clung to him lovingly.

“Oh! Kenji!” he blushed. “You weren’t suppose to—”

He was cut off as Kenji pulled him into a kiss, hands stroking over the satin fabric of his waistcoat and cupping the back of his neck.

“Mm…wait!” Ben said and went to the bed to hold up a box for him. “Mr. Bennet-Macrae insisted you wear this too.”

Kenji opened the box and smiled.

“We’re going to look so good together, Babe.”

Ben blushed and started undoing the buttons on his waistcoat and grabbing a hanger for it.

“Wait til you see what Carmen is wearing.”

#jwcc sweater weather #ben pincus #kenji kon #jwcc benji #jwcc fanfic #kenji x ben #wildcity

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ren1327 · 4 years

Text

Sweet Survivor Ch.5

Night had fallen when Sammy knocked, freshly showered after hours of hauling clothes, medicine and nonperishable food from the lower kitchens, infirmary and gift shop.

Darius, a towel around his shoulders, was using tape, wire hangers and black book covers to make a peep hole out of the window, like a little sliding door. He had made a black room from another curtain, so he could look even when the lights were on. He had made one for the girls room and was preparing another one for the spa and ballroom; he, Sammy, Brooklyn and Kenji having covered all the windows in the dark insulated curtains from the supply closet.

“Brooklynn and I raided the lower mini-fridges and found some ice cream! I just put it away cause she found something better!” She said, pulling a room service cart.

Kenji started drooling.

“Is that…?”

“Pizza?” Darius asked excitedly.

Kenji hugged Sammy. “You’re my hero!”

“Aw , shucks.” She said with a smile. “Oh!”

She looked at Ben as Darius brought him a plate.

“Yaz said the hot tub should help with your back pain.” She said with a sly smile only Kenji saw. “Kenji, do you think you can take him to the spa in an hour and let him soak a bit? Maybe go in it with him so he doesn’t slip?”

“I…Sure.” He said.

“Swimming trunks are in the spa store.” She said and sauntered out as Ben sipped some apple juice.

“Dar—”

“Don’t worry, Kenji, I’ll watch over Bumpy while you two go soak.” He said with a smirk, gathering his things. “Be right back. Save me some pizza!”

Ben blinked. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing. Eat something.” Kenji muttered and stuffed a pepperoni in his mouth.

He was going to die.

Ben was going to die.

Kenji was shirtless, dressed in black close fit trunks and holding his arms out.

“I’ll carry you in.” He said.

Ben could blame the warm water for his red cheeks, turning his robed body away.

“Ben…come on, Man.” He said. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Of course not!” He whined. “Tanned, muscled Adonis I’m sure, but not me.”

Kenji smirked. “Did you just call me hot?”

Here lies Benjamin Pincus. Fifteen years of embarrassment and low expectations.

“Got ya!” He said, pulling Ben close and whipping off his robe.

Kenji froze when he saw Ben’s body.

“Ugly, right?” Ben asked.

“Terrible…” Kenji whispered and traced the scratches on his side. “How could I let this…”

“Kenji?” Ben asked as he was scooped up and Kenji carried him, now only in pink trunks, down into the water, sitting him down and taking a seat a few feet away, face hard.

“Hey.” Ben asked. “What did I do?”

“Nothing, I just…” Kenji sighed.

“Kenji—whoa!” He stumbled and was submerged, Kenji lifting him to sit him next to him.

“Falling for me?” He joked half-heartedly.

“Stop that.” Ben muttered.

“What?”

“Messing with me.” Ben said. “I’m not some…head over heels person. Stop acting like you like me like that.”

“It’s not an act!” Kenji said suddenly.

“Wh…what?”

Kenji’s face was red in the blue light of the pool and hot tub.

“It’s not an act.”

“Oh.” Ben said softly.

“I said the same thing!” Kenji said. “But uh…if you’re not…into me, I can take it! Plenty of Kenji to go around!”

Ben leaned his head on Kenji’s shoulder and grabbed his hand, squeezing it as he focused on their wavy legs in the water.

“Um…can I…um…have the full course?” He squeaked.

Kenji was unnaturally still.

“Kenji?” Ben asked. “Please answer me before I—”

Kenji hugged him tight.

“I’ll be the best boyfriend ever.”

Ben blushed deeper. “B-b-b-boyfriend?!”

“Yes!” A voice shouted from the door.

They looked to see Brooklynn with her hand over Sammy’s mouth and Darius rolling Yaz around in a scavenged wheelchair. They all ran back towards the rooms as Ben groaned.

He looked up at Kenji through his fingers. “Boyfriends is a little too soon for me.”

“Fine then, I’ll woo you until you can’t stand me anymore.” Kenji said. “Fair warning, I’m persistent.”

Ben laughed and leaned on his chest.

“Good.” He said, as Kenji leaned his head on his, both of them looking out the one way glass windows at the starry sky.

Ben shot up from his bed with a gasp, wincing at the pain in his hips.

“Ben?” Kenji asked, sitting next to him.

“Sorry, I just…I keep dreaming about the monorail and…” He hyperventilated and squeezed a pillow.

Kenji moved around a bit, laying next to him and taking his hand.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

Ben sniffed and nodded, focusing on Bumpy’s snoring and the warmth of Kenji’s hand.

Ben looked out over the park as he peeled more white tape for the SOS they were making on the roof. They had gone through almost twenty rolls. Kenji wiped his face and smiled.

“Gonna need another roll, Pretty boy.” He said and Ben huffed softly, trying to hide his smile by ducking his head.

“Okay. We’ve blacked out the windows, made an SOS, and sealed off the basement and sub level 1 so we don’t get any visitors.” Brooklyn said, counting off her fingers. “And the wall should keep most dinos out.”

“Checks out.” Darius said. “Now I think we should—Get down!”

Kenji pulled Ben close, covering him with his body as they peeked over the roof.

Ally was stalking by, sniffing the air. She turned in a circle, barked and continued on north, towards the restricted area.

They waited until they couldn’t see the trees moving any more and sighed in relief.

“Oh my gosh…” Brooklynn sighed. “I want to go inside now.”

“Same.” Ben said, crawling to the rooftop door.

“Uh oh.” Darius said.

“What’s uh oh?” Kenji asked.

Darius pointed to the horizon.

Black clouds were gathering.

“We’re gonna be okay though, right Darius?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, just no lights for a bit.” He said. “Let’s get inside.”

A crack of thunder echoed over the park, Ben sighing as they went downstairs to see Bumpy pulling Yaz on a rolling bed, the girl laying on her side, sipping a sports drink through a crazy straw and wearing star-shaped sunglasses.

“Sup, nerds.” She said. “Sammy and I are gonna take a room key for a private dinner, kay?”

“Aw, that’s cute!” Brooklynn said.

“Uh, me too!” Kenji said. “I call…um, honeymoon suite!”

The hall was deathly quiet, Ben covering his face as Yaz dropped her sunglasses down her nose.

“Um…yeah, I got nothing.” She said, Bumpy pulling her away.

Darius looked at his bare arm. “Oh, look at the time! Brooklynn, help me check…the flashlights?”

“What—Oh! Yeah, totally.” She said. “Have a fun date night!”

Kenji blinked.

“Oh.” He said as Ben sank into a crouch.

#jurassic world camp cretaceous #ben pincus #kenji kon #jw bumpy #jw brooklynn #sammy gutierrez #yaz fadoula #darius bowman #camp cretaceous #jwcc #jw fanfic #jw benji #camp cretaceous fanfic #camp cretaceous sweet survivor

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