𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖐𝖎𝖓 (henry creel x fem!reader )
AHH GUYS I AM SOO EXCITED TO WRITE FOR MY BESTIE THIS SHIT! AND YES IT'S WEEKEND AND I HAVE TOO MANY IDEAS FOR THIS TYPE OF FFS AND A LOT OF FREE WILL... OKAY OKAY, so this is pt2 for 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖐𝖎𝖓. @femdiary
@cannibalcoyote
Btw couldn't wait until evening to post this chapter, sorry not sorry😁
WORDS COUNT: 1667
TW: dub-con; graphic violence and gore; toxic/abusive relationship; arachnophobia; death of children; transhumanism; dark romance; smut elements
Copper and ozone. Every time your lips met, you tasted the electricity jumping between your neurons.
You saw his memories in flashes—the way he looked at the world and saw only rot.
You saw yourself through his eyes: a glowing, golden heat source in a world of grey. When he moved inside you, it wasn't just physical.
It felt like he was rearranging your atoms.
Each thrust was punctuated by a surge of power that made the lightbulbs overhead glow white-hot before exploding in a rain of glass. His hands gripped your hips, and you felt his power grounding itself through you. It was painful—a searing, white-hot friction that blurred the line between pleasure and electrocution. You were a lightning rod, and he was the strike.
"Look at me," he groaned, his voice echoing not in your ears, but directly in the center of your skull. "See what they made us."
You cried out, your voice lost in the sound of metal groaning as the heavy filing cabinets began to crumple like paper, crushed by the sheer weight of his release. In that moment, you weren't two people, you were a single, screaming event horizon.
You crawled away from him, your breath ragged, noticing the blood on your own hands. It wasn't his. It was yours—but it was turning black.
"You didn't just 'charge' me, Henry," you whispered, the realization hitting you with the force of a physical blow.
"You're bleeding into me."
Henry stood, dressing with a terrifying, calm grace. "Dr. Brenner thought he was using you to control the monster. He never realized that a vacuum always seeks to be filled. I’m not just leaving this place, Y/N. I’m leaving it in you." He leaned down, kissing your forehead.
The touch was cold now, the static replaced by a numbing frost.
"They’ll come for you now," he said, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Because you aren't the researcher anymore. You're the specimen."
As Henry vanished into the shadows of the lab—leaving a trail of folded children bodies in his wake—you sat in the center of the ruin.
You picked up a shard of glass. You didn't touch it. You simply thought about it.
The shard rose, vibrating with that familiar, deadly violet static. You realized the "enemies to lovers" arc was a trap.
He had infected you with his divinity and his damnation.
The guards began to burst through the doors, weapons raised. You didn't feel fear. You felt the copper taste in your mouth and the hum in your blood. You turned toward them, and for the first time, the room grew cold.
"My turn" you whispered to yourself.
The first guard, while others stayed behind him as a backups, reached for your arm.
"Don't" you said. It wasn't a plea; it was a physical weight.
When his fingers grazed your skin, the feedback loop Henry had seeded in your soul detonated. The guard didn't just fly back, he disintegrated into a spray of fine, dark mist.
The sound wasn't a bang—it was a snap, like a dry branch breaking in a silent forest.
The air around you began to warp, distorting the light like heat rising from asphalt. You could feel every pulse of the building’s electrical grid. It felt like veins. It felt like yours.
"Where is he?" you asked, though you already knew. You could feel the trail Henry left behind—a scorched path of psychic residue that tasted like ash and bitter almonds.
You didn't walk through the lab. You tore through it. Doors didn't open: they folded outward.
When the secondary security team opened fire, you didn't duck. You watched the bullets slow down, caught in the high-pressure field of your own burgeoning power. They hung in the air, glowing cherry-red from the friction, before falling to the floor like harmless pebbles.
The Sin was how good it felt.
The hate you had for Henry was still there, but it was coupled with a terrifying gratitude. He had broken the shell of your humanity to reveal the void underneath.
You found him in the Rainbow Room.
He was standing in the center of the circle, surrounded by the bodies of the other children. He looked at peace. He looked like a king standing in a graveyard.
"You're late," Henry said, not turning around. "I thought the guards would have been more... efficient."
"They’re dead, Henry. All of them."
He turned then, and for the first time, he looked surprised.
He saw the way your skin was shimmering with a faint, bioluminescent glow - the mark of a body trying to contain more energy than it was built for.
"You didn't just take the spark," he mused, walking toward you. "You fanned it into a fire. But fires burn out, Y/N. How long until your heart gives up under the voltage?"
He didn't attack you with a blast of force. He attacked you with a touch. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, his hands slamming into your shoulders, pinning you against the blood-splattered mural of a rainbow. The contact was an explosion. This wasn't like the first time.
This time, it was two storms merging. It felt like being flayed alive by silk. Every inch of your skin where he touched was vibrating at a frequency that made your bones feel liquid.
Your minds slammed together. You saw his birth; he saw your first heartbreak.
You felt his hatred for the "mediocre" humans; he felt your intoxicating lust for his destruction.
He shoved his hand into your hair, tilting your head back.
"You think you hate me," he whispered against your lips, his voice a tectonic rumble. "But you’re vibrating at my frequency. You’re singing my song." He ripped the remains of your lab coat away.
The air in the room was now so charged that blue sparks danced between your bodies. When he entered you this time, it was a declaration of war. It was violent, desperate, and transcendent. You clawed at his back, your nails drawing blood that turned into steam the moment it touched the air. The room began to shake. The floorboards groaned and splintered. You were both screaming now, but not with words—you were screaming with a psychic resonance that shattered every window in the wing.
You felt his power pouring into you, and for the first time, you poured yours back.
You pushed your will into his mind, showing him the agony he had caused, the coldness of the lab, the isolation.
You forced him to feel the "static" from the perspective of the victim.
He gasped, his rhythm faltering for a second as he drowned in your reflected pain. But then he grinned, a jagged, beautiful thing.
"More," he choked out. "Give me... all of it."
As you both hit the precipice, the world went white. The Rainbow Room didn't just break, it imploded. The gravity failed. You were both suspended in the air, held together by the sheer force of the climax, a ball of pure, agonizing light in the center of a ruin.
When the light faded, you were lying in the rubble.
Henry was gone. But you weren't alone.
In the center of the room, a rift had opened—a jagged tear in reality that smelled of damp earth and decay. The Upside Down.
You looked at your reflection in a shard of broken mirror. Your eyes weren't yours anymore. They were cold. They were his. You realized then that Henry hadn't just escaped. He had used the energy of your shared "connection" to bridge the gap between dimensions.
You weren't his lover, and you weren't just a battery.
He had left you behind to be the anchor on this side, while he ruled the other. You were the gateway.
Every breath you took kept the door open. You were the very thing you had been hired to prevent: the end of the world, wrapped in the skin of a woman who still remembered the taste of her enemy's kiss.
The silence that followed the explosion of the Rainbow Room was heavier than the noise. It was a vacuum, a hollow space where the screams of the dying had been replaced by the rhythmic drip-drip-drip of a broken pipe.
You sat up in the center of the crater. Your skin felt tight, buzzing with a residual current that made the fine hairs on your arms stand like wire. You looked at the rift—the bleeding wound in the air. It pulsed with a sickly, rhythmic light, echoing the heartbeat you still felt thrumming through your own veins. Henry’s heartbeat.
"Subject... Subject 020!"
The voice was thin, reeking of sterile authority. You turned your head slowly. Dr. Brenner stood at the threshold of the ruined room, his white suit pristine despite the carnage.
He looked at you not with horror, but with the cold, calculating hunger of a man who had just lost a pawn and gained a queen.
"He’s gone," Brenner whispered, stepping over the body of a fallen child. "But he left his mark on you. He left the gate open... through you."
"He didn't leave a mark, Papa," you said, your voice sounding like two people speaking at once—your own soft tone layered over a jagged, metallic resonance. "He left a map."
You stood up. The air groaned. The remaining tiles on the walls cracked, spider-webbing outward from your feet.
"Secure her!" Dr. Brenner barked, his composure finally breaking.
The remaining guards, terrified and trembling, rushed forward with heavy-duty dampener cuffs—the kind designed to suppress the nervous system entirely.
You didn't move. You didn't have to. The Static flared. It wasn't a blast this time; it was a siphon.
As the guards closed in, you reached out and touched the air. The sensory experience was intoxicating. You felt the electricity in their equipment, the chemical signals of their fear, and the raw kinetic potential in their muscles. You pulled. The guards didn't fall; they were turned inside out. Their weapons crumpled into scrap metal, and their screams were cut short as you folded the space they occupied into nothingness.
You weren't just a telekinetic; girl, you were a gravitational anomaly. You were a Sin made manifest.
Dr. Brenner fell to his knees, his eyes wide. "What... who are you?"
"I'm the bridge" you whispered.
OMG WRITING THIS CHAPTER MADE ME FEEL EUPHORIC. Y/N IS SUCH A BADDIE. I FELT LIKE GENIUS WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS. HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER. Will Henry and Y/n will become one powerful couple or everything just becomes a legend?
