#fo// henry

[a-mallowbuddy]

New Sona and new F/O

thank you @candyheartedchy for making me love Finding Frankie as much as I do now.

Cala-Lily

-Can strach the most out of the other tons [except monster Frankie] -Can disguise and hide easily -Has a room [in the whole trampoline park building[ It's called the Lilly-Pod]] for making art with kids before the gameshow was implemented into the franchise -It's now a room where you can't destroy the art in the place while exploring or escaping

Cartoon Version

Made during older cartoon styles, the eyes style stayed when she was updated for the most recent Finding Frankie show

Anddddd the f/o

Henry: Ugh, why do you keep your face in that phone?

Lily: It's prettier than you.

H: WHAT!?

L: ha ha HaHaa calm down I'm kidding! You're super handsome.

H: S-Seriously? Y-You couldn't be..

And here's just a BUNCH of practicing doodles for this game, I fucking love it :D

[I'll draw twisted Henry some day soon]

I was STRUGGLIN' with the animal to pick and where to bring springs into the design

This was technically a practice, but honestly it's super good. Love the bunny boi too.

[greetingsfromhenrietta]

i love how every one of gansey's friends hates him in different ways and to differing degrees (semi affectionate) and then henry is just like "i actually think he's pretty alright" and gansey adopts him immediately through tears

[lostuserr]

i love him, but i hate him...but i love him

[wololo-01]

for @berensteinsmonster!!

I Love so much your au!! I decided to re-read everything again yesterday and AAAAAAA I CAN'T, IT'S SOOOO GOOOOOD!!!! Your au is really so cool and detailed with about all the things and the characters!! i just simply loved EVERYTHING,you are such an incredible yet wonderful writer and also amazing artist!, can't wait to see more of your expledid works and aus!!🌺🌺🌺

[shadowbrightshine]

Glamrock fronnie having echos to their original forms of springbonnie and fredbear,

But now both alive without the souls of the dead, free from the bloody history their ancestors have built over decades.

They can be whole together without the life of another.

Echoing the surface wonderful working relationship of Henry and William before the children died, before the first child lost his life. The little restaurant with two revolutionary animatronics singing and playing guitar to the people of Utah.

Now far in the future, a band of four all performing to crowds in the largest mall the franchise could hope for, and up there, Bonnie and Freddy are still singing and playing together.

But this time there aren't any humans inside them for things to fall apart.

Henry and William are gone. The children either moved on or they're in someone else. This is living animatronic robot love.

No matter how many generations pass, there's a bunny and a bear somewhere.

And now they can leave the soiled relationship of two men fighting and killing and grieving. They can leave the two boys, the four children clinging to their metal prisons for revenge or just because they don't know how to get away. They can leave the vengeful souls and undead determination to survive behind.

They're free now. With echos of a past neither would remember or want to know about. The evil isn't in Bonnie anymore.

No longer killer and victim of Henry and William. No longer children sharing the long nights in a little building, lives stolen away. No longer power unbalanced as a hand puppet and maniac.

Two equals onstage together. Like Springbonnie and Fredbear were supposed to be all those decades ago.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

Part one (first half) of my Lisa Frankenstein au is up! Features Blue as Lisa, Noah as The Creature, Orla as Taffy, Henry as Michael. Maura and Gansey have passed away before the story and Blue is grieving them.

“There was one grave which wasn’t like the others. There was a name “Noah” inscribed on it, but no last name, no date, nothing else at all. Built on top of the headstone was the statue of a young man. Hia face was thin, sparse, with wide set eyes. Something about the statue called to Blue. Perhaps it was the unmarkedness of the grave, perhaps it was the idea that this boy could have lived a hundred lives Blue would know nothing about. Maybe it was simply that he was here when the boy she had loved was not. Blue tended to his grave whenever possible, leaving him lilies or one time, a pair of her mother’s earrings. 

“They’re Turkish eyes,” said Blue. “They’re supposed to protect you. But I feel kind of sick whenever I wear them. And since your grave doesn’t have protections on it, I thought you should have them. And Maura – I called my Mom by her first name, she always wanted me to feel like she was a peer – she’d want you to have them, I think. Because you're alone and she never thought anyone should be alone. And because you help me.” She’d smiled, and turned away from the grave, ready to head back home before it was too dark out. 

Now, Blue crouched in front of the statue. Not to pray, she hadn’t been raised to be religious. Just to wish. “I wish I was with you.” She let the tears fall finally, now that no one could see her, now that they would only mix with the rain.”

tagging people I’ve mentioned this au to or talked through details of it with: @chaosandtwo @pillsopa @madwomanwithawarehouse

[cosmicdenro]

it just occurred to me as i posted this image on this post that Reference called RHM a failure too holy shit

[puppyparkmoving]

꒰♡꒱ Margaret • 26 • she/they/fae

꒰♡꒱ autistic • lesbian • semificto

꒰♡꒱ this is my self ship side blog! i interact from sno**yfe**es :o) check out my f/os and byf here

꒰♡꒱ minors dni please im almost 30 lol

꒰♡꒱ made the #safeship tag becuz i love you

[meowingeveryday]

Henry and Alfred are gay (omg)

Before you start to read I just wanted to say that it's a snippet from my fanfic (it's over 2000 words now) and that it's actually the first time that I write a fanfic (english isnt my first language either) so please feel free to give me your imputs just be nice about it ! THANK YOUU !!!!

Henry opened the door to Alfred’s office as he was reading over some documents. He stayed in the doorway, uneasy to really go any closer to Alfred. 

“Good morning Sir.” Henry greeted softly.

“Good morning Henry.”

Henry’s eyes flickered up from the floor, meeting Alfred gaze briefly before looking back down to his feet, a soft blush tinting his pale cheeks. 

“Thank you Sir.” He hesitated, then asked softly, “Is there anything I can do for you today Sir ?” Henry asked, his voice a little shaky as he tried to hide his nervousness around Alfred

“Well today I am free and I wanted to relax a little bit. I have heard that you are passionate about photography and I have been wondering if you could show me your passion ?”

“Oh ! Sir, this is a lovely idea.” Henry’s eyes widened with excitement at the thought of showing his passion to Alfred. He straightened his posture, now being a little more confident.

“So what do you usually like to photograph ?” Alfred asked, while trying to keep an eye contact with his servant.

“Oh well… I love capturing moments in nature, like flowers or trees swaying in the wind. And sometimes I’ll take portraits of people too.” Henry bit his lip nervously, wondering if Alfred would be okay with him taking his picture.

“How lovely is that ! When I was eighteen I remember taking a lot of portraits with my friends from university  !” Alfred’s face changed in what looked like a mixture of melancholy and joy, while he was reminiscing of his past. 

“Really Sir ?” Henry asked curiously, his eyes lit up with interest. “That must have been entertaining. Would you like me to take your picture today ?”

“Yes it was indeed really nice, and I would absolutely love to be your muse for today.” Alfred said teasingly.

[caressthosecheekbones]

"watched" heavenly creatures while tumbling (oh no.bthere was a word. someone's mum invented a word! what was it again? I forgor), spilled coke on my fav jumper (😭), had the worst salad I ever paid money for, also the cutest delivery guy since that one pizza guy back in 2014(?). I mean. I wish I had had him. lol. tall, smiley, dark haired, curly, smiley, wet, smiley, curly, wet, hot, cute, smiley, wet jesus christ on a jalapeño

[cannibalkissies]

feeling very ill becuz i kinda neglected my health... thinkin about henry helping me drink my electrolyte drinks and rubbing my back. thinkin about him and i laying down and he's petting my hair and rubbing my scalp. he's talking soft and quiet and calming me down from how dizzy i am

[palesmokeisinthevoid]

Y’know what? Fuck it *posts a thsc fankid*

The ambiguously named adopted child of Henry Stickmin (They/em), do they have any other parents? Depends on the timeline. I’ve mostly been drawing the TT version of em in which ey have 5 parents (Triple threat + Panprice…which is basically all my ships for these 5 wrapped into one) and 4 younger siblings (Terry, Topaz, Ruth and Emilia), in that timeline I refer to them as Dami, though other names for them are Mixxus Foxglove (Revenged, though technically Lady Wolfsbane and Madam Oleander are eir parents there since Henry’s pretty dead), Amethyst (CEO, SSR, JB), Midge (TR, TK, T4L), Plum (VH, TCW, LNE) and probably a few more I haven’t mentioned or came up with.

Their a crafty, sarcastic and mischievous lil guy, they’ve run away from so many homes it’s a surprise if they do eventually stop. A certain someone saw himself in em though when he took them in…I wonder who that could be.

I might post some doodles of them and some other fankids I made, but I just wanted to talk about them.

[ledzeppelinhater]

forever shocked at how henry VIII didn't die from embarrassment after publicly fumbling the bag 6 different times and then dying. rip henry VIII you would've loved hinge and incel podcasts

[perfettamentechic]

13 ottobre … ricordiamo …

13 ottobre … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic

2019: Paco Fabrini, attore italiano. (n. 1973) 2019: Hideo Azuma, fumettista giapponese, conosciuto in Italia per essere l’autore dei manga Pollon e Nanako SOS.  (n. 1950) 2016: Tonino Valerii, è stato un regista e sceneggiatore italiano. (n. 1934) 2016: Dario Fo, Dario Luigi Angelo Fo, è stato un drammaturgo, attore, regista, scrittore, autore, illustratore, pittore, scenografo e attivista…

[decimatlas]

@twinbled has wandered into the Otherworld...

Henry stares at the gaping hole in his wall – he knows where it leads. Well – he doesn't, but he knows it's a world outside of his own. Frustratingly, he keeps returning back. He has to return back. There's no alternative. And no matter how much his eyes adjust, no matter how far he leans in, an attempt to peer out into the other side – he is met with the abyss. Oblivion. He has no other direction in which to wander; doors chained, locked away by some otherworldly force that prevents him from shouting out, getting out.

For a moment, he contemplates accepting his fate. Staying in this room – once a sanctuary, a place of peace from the bustling world outside. He contemplates staying there and rotting, haunted by ghosts that were not his own.

But a voice compels him. A strikingly human voice. Cutting clear through the dark, bouncing off the walls of his bathroom and into his ears. 'Charlie!' The voice calls. A woman. She sounds distressed. The voice is close. Hell, it practically sounds like she's on the other side of the hole.

And so, Henry climbs in. When he emerges, he sees no one. Hears no one. Was it all in his head? Was all of this just in his head? As these thoughts swirl about his mind, he suddenly hears rapid footsteps approaching. Tiny steps, light – those of a child. And sure enough, a child rounds the corner. She looks afraid, but strangely... empty. Surely, this was not the voice he heard. Henry watches her go by, turning as she whizzes past, and then he turns back again as another pair of steps approaches.

Now she – she could have been the woman he heard on the other side of the wall. She looks like she's in pursuit of the girl, though Henry can't quite tell if she is what the little girl was so afraid of. But soon enough, the two are practically colliding as the woman barrels down the hall. He's in her path.

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 3671 words & 18+

here it is! part two of this blurb. all the hugs and kisses to @moonpascal for reading and giving me tips/ideas! also, here's the series masterlist for these two 💌 happy reading, angels! 💌

While James is gone, your thoughts spiral out of control. You consider slipping out of his bed and retreating to the living room, where the space feels less charged. A nagging voice in your mind insists that James would be more at ease if you weren’t in his bed. You’ve been in his bed before, shared countless late-night conversations and quiet moments, but this time it feels wildly different. 

The air was thick with tension, something you’d felt even after James left the room, and it made you question whether you should create some distance before he returned. The last thing you wanted was to put him in an uncomfortable position. Lying in his bed while his son called you "mum" surely must have felt that way to him. 

You’ve just sat up in bed, ready to slip out from under the covers, when James quietly reenters the room, closing the door with a soft click. He turns and catches sight of you sitting up, your uncertainty evident in the way you watch him. One brow arches in silent inquiry, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh,” you murmur, easing yourself back into the sheets, your hands nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. “No.” 

James lets out a satisfied hum, his voice low and warm, “Good.”

You chew on your lip, watching as he runs a hand through his hair, tousling the curls. You fight back a smile, thinking how just a few minutes ago, Henry’s hair looked exactly the same.

“Listen,” he starts. “I want to thank you for going along with Henry calling you mum. I know it might have been a bit of a shock.” His voice is soft as he acknowledges the almost-four-year-old sleeping down the hallway. You feel a wave of emotion at the mention of the little boy.

“A bit.” You say softly.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt as he runs a hand through his hair again—a gesture that betrays his nerves. “I’ll talk to him in the morning and explain that he can’t call you that.”

A pause lingers between you. Neither of you speaks, the quiet hum of the TV the only thing breaking the stillness.

“Or you don’t have to.” You say gently, pushing the covers aside as you shift to the edge of the bed in front of him. He watches you intently, his eyes darting down to trace over your bare legs. You’re wearing the shorts that drive him crazy—especially now, with you in his bed.

“What?” He asks, his tone dripping with surprise.

“It’s okay if he wants to call me ‘mum'. If you're okay with it,” you say shyly, and he can tell from the way you bite down on your lower lip and stare up at him that you’re nervous. “I consider him mine.” You continue, your voice coming out in a near whisper.

That’s all it takes.

James pushes himself forward with a determined intensity, his hand cupping your cheek as he tilts your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb gently caresses your bottom lip, sending a shiver through you as your lashes flutter with anticipation. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and captures your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. You respond with a shuddering sigh.

He pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “He is yours.”

You can hardly respond. The words are stuck in your throat, trapped by the rising emotions. You couldn’t have heard him right. “Jamie, I—”

“You’ve raised him with me.” He tells you, kneeling between your legs, his warm palms gently pushing your thighs apart so he can press close to you.

A slow, gentle kiss is pressed to your cheek, “Been such a good mum, darling.” He whispers, his voice is rough against your ear.

James grins at the sound of the soft whimper that escapes your lips. Eyes wide and lips parted, you gaze up at him, caught between surprise and desire.

He’s beginning to think you like being praised.

“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” He tests as his lips graze the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively reach out, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as a surge of heat shoots through you, straight to between your legs.

He grins, his theory proven correct. Your hips roll, desperate for friction, as your chest pushes further into his.

“Taking care of my son,” Your eyes flutter closed, letting him run his palm down your neck, tilting your head to the side. Another kiss is placed below your ear, pulling a whimper from your lips. “Our son”

The hand that isn’t cradling your neck glides up your thigh, fingers grazing your skin before gripping your hip firmly, his touch possessive. He squeezes the flesh, sending a wave of heat through you. The sigh you let out is soft, almost a whimper, betraying how desperately you’re losing control under his touch.

“Jamie.” A whimper escapes you as desire coils tightly in your stomach, almost unbearable. You’ve never ached for someone’s touch as much as you do now, every nerve ending alive with need.

“It’s your turn to be taken care of, love.” He mumbles, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Your face tightens, struggling to contain the lump that forms in your throat from his words. 

He pulls back from you, sitting back on his heels as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Your mouth goes dry as your gaze locks onto his fingers, watching them deftly work each button open, one by one. He’s moving slowly, almost deliberately, focusing on the task as if he’s oblivious to how your eyes are glued to him. 

But you know better than that.

The fabric parts gradually, revealing more of his chest with each undone button, and the air between you seems to thicken with anticipation. 

Your focus is dialed into the movement of his hands and the soft rustle of his shirt as he moves. Your thighs press together, the anticipation building unbearably. You reach for the band of his dress pants, fingers curling around the fabric, trying to convey your urgent need. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and he gives you a smile that’s as devastating as it is knowing.

“Slide up on the bed, darling.” He tells you as he pops open the last button and slides his shirt off, revealing his tanned and toned torso.

You obey without hesitation, your body responding instinctively to his command.

He casually tosses his shirt onto the top of the dresser, the fabric landing in a careless heap. Then he climbs onto the bed, moving with deliberate ease until he’s hovering over you, his presence overwhelming and inescapable.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, his voice rough with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. “So beautiful that sometimes I can’t even think straight when I’m around you.”

“Stop it.” You sigh, though there’s no real sharpness in your tone. You’re simply trying to mask how flustered he’s making you.

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your tank top, tugging it off your shoulder, “I’m serious, baby. Do you know how many years I’ve spent dreaming of worshiping your body?”

Baby. That's new.

“Fuck, I need you to touch me.” You sigh, your voice coated in desperation. 

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice dripping with a cocky undertone. You hate how much it stirs you up, the confidence in his tone intensifying your reaction.

You nod frantically, “Yeah.”

Your eyes flutter closed as James slides the other strap of your top off your shoulder. There’s a brief, charged pause before you feel his lips grazing your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He murmurs tender compliments, his words melting into the softness of your skin.

The hem slips down, exposing your breasts to the cool air, and you can feel your nipples harden. James curses before leaning down, eager to press a soft kiss against your right nipple. You draw in a sharp breath, so sudden that James glances up at you in surprise. But you’re too absorbed in the sensation, head thrown back, to notice his reaction.

He takes his time, sucking on your nipples until you’re whining before trailing kisses lower and lower down your body. Stopping at the band of your sleep shorts, he glances up at you for permission. You meet his gaze and give him a small nod, and then he’s tugging down the flimsy fabric along with your panties and tossing them aside.

The light from his lamp is reflecting off your slick, and he’s never wanted anything more. All those years he spent dreaming of this moment, imagining what it would be like to have you this close. Now that it’s finally happening, he can’t quite grasp that it’s real—that you’re here, within reach, and this isn’t just another fleeting fantasy.

“Fuck, I wanna taste you,” James groans, staring down at your soaked pussy. “Please let me, baby.”

You don’t say anything but instead spread your thighs, your hands gripping underneath the backs of your knees. He grins, his hands sliding up the backs of your thighs to hold you open for him. The tip of his nose brushes against your thighs as he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. The shaky exhale that slips from your lips at his touch has him growing uncomfortably hard. 

When he nips at your inner thigh, a playful squeal escapes your lips, and you tug at his curls with a mischievous grin. Gently, you guide his head so he’s lined up with your pussy, your touch both commanding and affectionate.

He doesn’t waste any time, his tongue sliding right through your slick as he moans into you.

You let out a moan so loud that he reaches up and clamps his hand over your mouth. The last thing he needs is Henry waking up and cockblocking him.

He keeps his hand over your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your sighs and whimpers against his palm. If it weren’t for his son sleeping just down the hall, he’d be urging you to let go and be as loud as you wish. Begging you to let him hear just how good he was making you feel.

Your thighs jerk, and James grips you harder, pushing you back down into the sheets. Wetness is beginning to drip down onto the sheets, and the way James sloppily licks and sucks at your cunt doesn’t help the mess. He couldn't care less about the mess gathering on his sheets. The only thing on his mind is making you feel so good that you can’t possibly think straight.

At the feeling of the tips of his fingers tracing along your entrance, you moan, desperately nodding your head to tell him to keep going. He listens, slipping a finger slowly into you and curling upwards. He watches transfixed as you arch your back, and he can’t decide which sight he likes more. The sight of his finger slipping into you so easily or the complete look of desperation on your face.

“God, you look so fucking pretty like this.” James hums, pressing a kiss onto your clit before glancing back up at you. Against his better judgment, he pulls his hand away from your mouth, desperate to hear the pretty noises you’re making.

He’s not at all disappointed; the way you moan his name makes him dizzy.

“Got the prettiest pussy too.” He hums, pulling his fingers away to circle your clit. When he pinches your clit you shriek, jolting at the sensation that shoots through you. Your legs are shaking, and you can feel the building hot pressure settling into your body.

James shifts, moving further up your body so that he can settle next to you. His fingers are still rubbing tight circles against your clit, and you don’t get a chance to ask what he’s doing before he’s leaning down and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

The sensation sends you over the edge, vision blurring into white as you’re consumed by the intense, toe-curling orgasm. Your gasp is startingly loud, so James leans down and kisses you hard, muffling your cries as you grip his bicep in one hand and the sheets in the other hand. He keeps the same pace, swirling his fingers over your pussy in the most delicious way as he works you through your orgasm. He slows his movements once he notices your breathing has evened out and your eyes have fluttered open.

“Fuck,” you sigh, your chest heaving as you look up at James with wide, glassy eyes. He smiles down at you, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips. At that moment, you’re certain he’s ruined you for any other man—though, truth be told, he did that years ago.

“You’ve got the prettiest moans I’ve ever heard.” He speaks with such sincerity that you’re certain your gaze is filled with the most lovesick adoration.

“James.” You say softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach up to gently brush the curls away from his face. Your fingertips graze his skin, lingering for a moment on his cheek as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that matches your own.

You know he’s deeply in love with you, just as you are with him.

“What, baby?”

“I want to feel you inside of me.” Your fingers reach down to grasp the waistband of his dress pants. James looks momentarily startled when he glances down and realizes he’s still wearing them. With a flurry of hurried movements, he fumbles to unbutton and shove them off, and you can’t help but giggle at the endearing clumsiness of his efforts.

You barely have time to admire how beautiful he looks before he’s positioning himself over you, his body pressing close. He cages you in with his arms on either side of your head, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I need to grab a cond—” James begins as he glances over at his nightstand, but you cut him off with a gentle smile, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

"But there's a chance—" He stops himself, the words catching in his throat as he swallows hard, the mere thought too overwhelming to fully process. He can't let his mind linger on the image of you pregnant with his child; he just can't.

"I know," you reply, your voice steady as you give him an encouraging nod, trying to offer reassurance.

James looks so startled that you immediately worry you’ve said the wrong thing. “Please, baby,” he urges, his voice tinged with desperation, “tell me you’re being serious.”

You giggle, “I am.”

“Fuck.” He lets out a low groan, reaching down to grip his cock, dragging the tip through your folds. The sharp gasp you release makes James glance up at you. 

He’s never witnessed anything so captivating. Your eyes are closed, head tilted to the side, with your swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth in a way that drives him wild.

He drags himself further down until he’s lined up with your entrance, and you let out a shaky exhale. As he pushes past your tight walls, he grits his teeth, resisting the urge to shove his hips forward and fill you in one go. But instead, he fixates on your face—the way your brows furrow in pleasure and your lips part, adjusting to the feel of his cock easing in.

“You feel so much better than I imagined, shit.” He gasps, watching the way his cock pushes past your snug entrance and sinks into you slowly. You suck him in so easily, and he swallows hard, silently begging himself to hold it together.

“Jamie, oh my god.” You moan, blindly reaching out a hand to grip his shoulder, the other gripping the sheets.

“I know, baby,” He grunts. “Almost there.” He stills for a second, needing a second to breathe. It’s been ages since he last had sex, and it doesn’t help that it’s you he’s slipping his cock into.

“Keep going, please.” It must be the tone of your voice, that soft, irresistible lilt, that drives him to surge forward as if he can't hold back any longer. The forceful thrust tears a moan from your throat, your hand instinctively flying up to clutch his as it grips your hip with a possessive intensity. At the touch of your fingers, he instinctively twists his hand to intertwine them with yours. With a steady push, he leans over you, pressing your joined hands into the sheets.

Your eyes flutter open, slowly tracing over him, taking in every detail, before finally locking onto his gaze. He’s just so breathtakingly beautiful. His dark curls fall messily over his forehead, his lips are pink and inviting, and a deep blush colors his cheeks. You’ve never seen him like this before, so vulnerable and raw, and you’re overwhelmed with gratitude that you get to witness him like this, even if it’s just this once.

A gentle kiss lands on your lips, the softness of his touch lingering for a moment. You let out a quiet sigh, your breath blending with his in a simple, shared connection. His lips remain lightly pressed against yours as he drags his cock through your pussy. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft, pleading whine escapes into his mouth.

He quickens the pace, yet it remains slow and tender, leaving you breathless and dazed. As your head tilts to the side, he seizes the moment to press gentle kisses along your shoulder, his touch soothing compared to the burn of pleasure between your thighs.

“God, I love your moans.” He mumbles, rolling his hips into yours. Being this close allows him to hear every sound you make—the soft catch of your breath, the subtle shifts in your sighs, and the faint murmurs of pleasure. Each noise is crisp and intimate, a testament to the closeness you share.

“Love your pretty lips.” He murmurs softly, his voice low and intimate, as he leans in to press his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle but insistent, and you can barely manage to reciprocate, your movements sluggish and overwhelmed. Yet he doesn't seem to mind; his focus is entirely on making you feel good.

“Love how well you take me.” He murmurs praise with a tender, reverent tone, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The effect is immediate; you release a choked sob as his hand slides from your neck down your body. He gently slides his hand under your thigh, lifting it and securing it over his hip with a possessive yet gentle grip. The shift in position pulls you even closer and has him hitting that delicious spot that makes your mind go blissfully blank.

You’re utterly undone, and it’s all too clear in your voice. Each desperate plea of his name tumbles from your lips, mingled with breathless, disjointed words about how incredible everything feels. The raw vulnerability in your tone, the way you falter and stutter with pleasure, tells him just how close you are

“James, I—” you cry out, your voice breaking as you squeeze his hand with a desperate intensity. Your other hand weaves through his tousled curls, tugging him closer. You pull his lips to yours with an urgent, almost pleading motion, your heart racing as the warmth of his lips meet yours. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck.”

He keeps the rhythm steady, his lips lingering on your cheeks with soft, reverent kisses before moving slowly down your neck. Each kiss is deliberate and tender, a gentle exploration that sends a cascade of shivers across your skin. The warmth of his breath mingles with the sensation of his lips, heightening the intimacy of the moment and deepening the connection between you.

“Fuck, I love you.” He grits out a few strained words, his voice rough and laden with raw emotion. That simple utterance is enough to shatter your composure. In an instant, you’re undone, your body trembling and mind swirling as you surrender entirely to the intensity of the moment.

The intense feeling of you squeezing him tightly, overwhelms his senses, causing his thoughts to dissolve into a haze of pleasure. His body reacts instinctively, and without much warning, he spills into you as he helps you ride out your high. He curses under his breath, his head sinking to your shoulder, the weight of his exhaustion and satisfaction pressing against you.

It takes a moment for both of you to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts pounding in the aftermath. As you gradually come back to yourselves, he gently pulls away from your shoulder, meeting your glassy-eyed gaze with his own. You stare at him, wide-eyed, your hair a tangled mess and mascara smudged. Despite the disheveled appearance, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Did I—” you trail off, your voice faltering as you shift your hand from his tangled curls to cradle his cheek gently. Your thumb brushes lightly against his skin, your gaze searching his face. “Did you just say you loved me?” The words come out in a soft, trembling whisper, your eyes wide and filled with a mix of hope and disbelief.

“Yes.” James admits; there’s a shake to his voice as he bites his lip nervously. The admission wasn’t meant to slip out. Instead of apologizing, he shifts his focus to the tears welling up in your eyes. Before he can process it, you lean in and kiss him fiercely, the intensity of emotions seeping through.

“Like you’re in love with me?” You ask, your voice trembling with disbelief. James offers a nervous, yet hopeful smile.

“Uh huh.” He confirms softly, his eyes reflecting a vulnerable sincerity.

“I love you. So fucking much, James Potter.”

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍