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∘₊✧ Summary: Henry has been working on something special for you, and tonight he adds the finishing touches.
∘₊✧ Notes: I've been seeing a lot of interest in Henry recently and despite the fact I've only written a couple of fics for him, he is one of my absolute favorite Geese, so it really was high time I wrote for him again! Title from Utopia by Goldfrapp from my Henry playlist
∘₊✧ Content: nsfw, masturbation, mentioned semi-public masturbation, imagined gn!reader, smoking, using cum as an art medium, Henry being disgusting and perverted [sickos at the window chanting YES haha YES]
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This isn’t the first time Henry’s jerked off with you on his mind. It’s usually in the dead of night when he can’t sleep for the thought of you, or after he’s rushed home because you glanced at him just a second too long. And if you speak to him? He can’t get home. Catch him in a bathroom stall biting down on his knuckles to keep quiet as he desperately fucks into his fist.
But tonight?
He’s been working on his painting of you for a few weeks. Perfecting it, tweaking it, ensuring this piece of artwork is as perfect as you. Which is difficult to achieve since he usually thinks his paintings are bad; they never turn out quite how he wants them to, there’s always room for improvement, and he’s his own worst critic.
But he thinks it’s good enough now to present it to you. It’s not just the painting he wants you to have, though, it’s a piece of him.
He thinks about Tristan Reveur.
Henry’s been highlighting and making notes in the margin of his most recent Reveur book that he spent a little too much money on, but it was worth it. He feels like he’s in Reveur’s mind as he slips his hand inside his pants and strokes his length slowly. The sensation is part of the art and the end product will be all the better for it.
He thinks about you, staring at your painting as he palms his length, imagining how you’d look touching yourself. That would be artwork in its own right. Maybe he should paint that next, your face as you succumb to pleasure…
His cock twitches and he wraps his fingers around it, pumping a little faster, his breath heavy and cheeks flushed. If only you could see him right now, see what you do to him. God he hopes you’ll let him show you.
He takes a puff of the cigarette in his other hand and a thick pearl of precum pumps from his tip and he groans, the fingers of his free hand delving into the fabric of the sofa as he jerks himself faster.
His head drops forward, the sensations all too overwhelming now. His finish is approaching and it needs to be just right.
He stubs out the cigarette, lifts his gaze to keep it on your painted face, imagining your hand between your thighs, the way you’d moan his name, the way it would contort your features if you were cumming for him right now-
His release comes sooner than he’d hoped it would, but it’s with just the right friction, just the right speed and pressure, just the right image of you playing in his mind. So he doesn’t fight it, doesn’t wait for a do-over. This is how it was meant to be.
He shudders through his orgasm, ragged breaths laced with strangled little moans as he tries to ensure he’s collecting what he can in his palm.
Before he has a chance to recover, he approaches the canvas leant up against the wall before him, while his softening dick twitches with aftershocks and his breathing slows.
With shaky hands, he tips his release onto a paint-stained but empty pallette, and with fucked out, tired eyes, tries to focus on the brush strokes as he paints his release over your lips, your cheekbones, your sparkling eyes…
When he’s done, he flops down onto his mattress, falling into the most comfortable sleep he’s had in a long time and feeling so close to you.
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imagine parallel play with henry, maybe he's sketching something in his notebook and you're typing away on your laptop, maybe you're both smoking... maybe this is just bias (it definitely is) but henry's one of the geese i just really wanna spend time with, i think it'd be peaceful even for just a moment before either the world goes to shit or his freak tendencies start showing up /aff
you're such a genius for this anon.... ounghhhhhhh i know henry would love that too! picture the sound of graphite against paper as he doodles away, ocassionally looking up to ask you a question or two. nothing heavy enough to break the spell, just enough to keep your attention on him. is he so selfish for wanting such a thing? henry doesn't think so.
eventually he'll finish his piece, turning his canvas around to display a side profile of you. he revels in your reaction, whether that be pleasent surprise, or a steady warmth that slowly covers your cheeks and the tips of your ears. something about the way that it's drawn.. you can tell every stroke of the pencil was deliberate. analyzing. in a way that's both beautiful and slightly too good to be true. he really had managed to capture every detail of you in just a few minutes. and when you ask if you can keep it, henry agrees— only if you promise to continue these hangouts together.
when you say yes, henry can't stop himself from giving you a small smile.
Who's up for some Stay (2005) details I noticed. Obviously huge Stay (2005) spoilers, as well as TW for death, self-harm, smoking, and subtle mentions of survivor's guilt/PTSD.
There's the repeated mention of confusing eye colors because Athena has brown eyes and Lila has blue. Henry was trying to decipher if it was really his girlfriend or not by the color of her eyes.
Henry and Athena might've not been wearing seatbelts when they crashed, hence why both of them go flying out the front window.
In Lila's studio, there are multiple pictures of manatees and Henry's family. There is also a sign with an arrow that says "fallout shelter" near the entrance.
On the topic of manatees: they (apparently) symbolize softness, tranquility, and slowness. This could represent how Henry felt in the past--especially as a child--whereas in the present he’s disoriented with everything feeling too fast paced (the car crash).
As Sam is running to the Brooklyn bridge, there's photos of Henry's face scattered on advertisements. There's also mailboxes with the word "lies" on them.
In one of the flashbacks, Henry silhouette flickers between his normal self and his child self.
Sam's pants are comically short in the dream because Henry saw him crouching irl, which made the fabric ride up.
Henry's cigarettes go out extremely fast.
Henry always wears dark colors. His button down shirt also has the cuffs unbuttoned.
There were multiple burn marks on Henry's arms. He chronically self-harmed.
When Sam is visiting Henry's mom, there are whispers in the background. They seem to be from Henry's childhood. One of them is his mother calling him her baby boy.
Along with that: there are multiple other scenes where there are similar whispers + the baby crying.
This one isn't really a detail 'cause it's said outright...but I thought it was cute: Henry likes pecan pie and coffee.
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I love how everyone who writes fanfic for ryan gosling characters has THEIR ryan gosling character. like yeah they write about others but there’s one guy who just theirs..
“No, you don’t understand. Please, Grace, please listen to me. Just hear me out.” Simon raised his hand toward Grace’s face. He flinched.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 7 AND the epilogue are out🥹 We got through the angst and now it’s the happy ending. My first ever fic and it’s done. I am actually crying. This is my baby. I’m so emotional. Please let me know what you think.
Guy makes a really stupid decision and gets in a car accident -> no real damage from accident but insurance goes up -> starts beating himself up over his stupid decision -> gets depressed -> starts to realize he's single and had crash been worse he'd die alone -> realizes he's never had a relationship or even a crush and starts wondering what he'd want out of a relationship -> starts to realize he doesn't really like girls so he thinks he must be gay -> realizes he likes girls and boys about the same amount, so he must be bi -> later realizes that "same amount" is none at all -> he's ace
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sorry this isn’t going to work out. no its not anything you did its just… your fursona. it doesn’t have a complimentary color palette with mine. all the commissioned art we got together has awful color composition. there. i said it. please stop crying.
I’ve fallen victim to the crossover ship of a lifetime. (I’m writing a fic of them called Missing Piece by smol_ghosts. This was a thank you I drew for the support it’s gotten ❤️)
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