Henry Creel is not naturally a cruel person. The only reason Henry Creel ever got possessed by the Mind Flayer is because he went in the cave to help that scientist. It was this act of kindness that sealed his fate, his biggest mistake in life was being kind
⛧ kinktober day nine... knife kink starring jace herondale
warnings: smut, knife used in sexual context, blood mention, angst, friends to lovers, unprotected sex but she has the rune so it’s fine, fingering, kinda jealous toxic jace but then he’s sweetie, reader is very very briefly mentioned to have dated simon (my sweetie)
wc: 2.7k
notes: nobody ever cares ab my jace content but i will be speaking anyway. also knife kink does not happen the entire time they end up being soft idk what happened
you loved watching jace. you'd never admit it to anyone, especially not to him but you could watch him do almost anything. the way he moved, his cat-like grace and reflexes, affected you in a way no one else ever had. it was hard, at times, having to occupy the institute alongside him, never admitting your real feelings. you told yourself it was easier to keep it to yourself than to admit it and ruin everything. there had been moments between you, though, multiple little instances over years of knowing each other. one night, you'd both been at a party of magnus bane, tipsy and a bit too close to be just friends. "you look just like an angel in this light," he'd told you, golden eyes dark as he looked at you. "i'd hope so," you'd made a weak attempt at breaking up the tension, "we all look like the angel." "you know what i mean," he'd said, hesitant like he had more to say. "jace, i-" you'd started, but then izzy's arm was around your shoulders, pulling you out onto the dance floor, and you'd never finished your sentence.
years later, you found yourself sitting against the wall of the training room, watching jace fling knives at targets. "you'd think you wouldn't worry about training anymore after all this time," you said, busying yourself with runing blades, "we can always improve," he looked at you, and you felt like all the air was knocked from your lungs. "maybe," you hummed, "i don't think you really need it." 'you flatter me," he had that familiar smug tone, "you could do with some practice yourself. i'm feeling generous, come spar with me." "oh, how kind of you," you rolled your eyes, pulling yourself up and tucking your stele into your pants. he tossed you a blade, grinning when you caught it without faltering. "i really don't think i even need this," you said, even as you edged yourself close to him on the mat. "no one thinks they need to train until you're backed into a corner and under prepared," he said in that matter of fact way that he always did, the tone that managed to get under your skin every time. "or maybe you're an overachiever," you chided, backing away as he lunged for you. "spoken like a true under achiever," he smirked, darting away from your reach.
the two of you went in rounds for half an hour, your frustration growing each time he dodged you. you made a reckless move, leaving yourself unguarded, and he made a move. he placed his dagger to your throat, your back flush against his chest, so close that you could feel his heart beating. "you have to watch your back, love," he murmured, his breath fanning against your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. heat pooled in your stomach, unwelcomed and traitorous, your heart picking up. "let me go," you hissed, straining in his grip. "are you afraid?" he ghosted the edge of the knife over your skin, "i can hear your heartbeat, darling. it's pounding." "i'm not afraid of you, jace. don't be ridiculous," you sucked in a sharp breath as he trailed the tip of your vein, "maybe i just don't enjoy being held hostage." "oh, i think you do enjoy it," his voice dripped with a mocking sweetness, "i think that's the problem here, love."
he pulled you impossibly closer, your entire body pressed against his, rigid and hot. "do you like knives?" he teased, his voice right against your ear, "is that it? or do you just have a sudden fondness for me?" "fuck off," you kicked back against him, his alarm releasing you as your foot made contact with his shin. he grinned even as he clenched it, "you're feisty as usual, i see." "we're done training," you crossed the mat, putting away your blade. "oh, come on, darling. be a good sport," he followed after you, catching your wrist in his grasp. you turned to face him, pupils dilated as you looked at him. "i just need to go to bed," you lied, swallowing the lump in your throat, "you should, too." "bed?" he repeated, "sweetheart, it's six in the evening. you haven't even eaten dinner." you pulled away from him, "i'm not hungry." you turned away from him, heading for the door, and for a moment you thought he'd let you go.
"you can't tell me you don't know how i look at you," he called after you, "you must know." you paused, heart stopping. "i know you feel it too," he continued, "you used to get so angry when i brought girls around. at that party we almost- i just know you feel the same way." you turned back to him, swallowing, trying to gain some composure. "if i'm wrong, fine. i'll never speak another word of it," he cleared his throat, "but i don't believe i'm wrong. you light a fire in me that nothing else ever has, and i see that very same fire inside of you." your body seemed to move on it's own, gravitating towards him like you always did, crossing the room in an instant. you didn't hesitate, for once in your life, throwing yourself at him and crushing your lips to his. his easy confidence didn't falter for even a moment. he wrapped an arm around your waist, walking you back until you hit the wall, his body heat making a welcome return.
you gripped his shirt in one hand, kissing him roughly, desperate and frantic. all the years of build up shattered, the intensity of the moment raw and all consuming. he nipped at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue against yours, his hips pressing into you. you pulled away to catch your breath, your lips slick, your entire face hot. "how long have you been wanting to do that?" he rasped, eyes dark as he gazed down at you, "because it felt like you've been pent up for a long time." you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. he put his arms on either side of you, caging you in against the wall, his knee slotted between your thighs. you writhed against him, hungry for more of him, some inescapable urge to be all over him taking over your mind. he pulled away only to press hot kisses to your jaw and throat, biting gently at the delicate skin. "tell me, darling," he murmured, "is it just me, or was it really that knife that got you so worked up?" as he said it, he pressed his knee more firmly against you, eliciting a quiet whine from your swollen lips. "both," you admitted raggedly, too worked up to feel ashamed.
he grinned against you, tracing a light mark on your neck with his tongue. “i’ve dreamed of this,” he murmured lowly, “you have no idea how much i’ve thought of you.” you ground against his thigh, your hands tangling in the golden hair at the nape of his neck. “i know you’ve thought of me too,” he cupped your jaw with his hand, gazing down at you, “tell me, darling. don’t get shy now.” you leaned up to catch his lips in a quick kiss, “i’ve thought of you for years,” you murmured, breath ghosting over his jaw, “there was never anyone else, jace. there were only place holders.” he made a low, possessive sound in his throat, pushing you back against the wall firmly, his hand settling at the base of your throat. “no one else should’ve touched you,” he grit out, “the thought of another man touching you-“ “you’ve brought all sorts of girls home,” you teased, though jealousy pricked over your skin, “so that’s hardly fair.” “they never meant a single thing to me, i’ve told you that,” he muttered, “i wanted to kill simon. he never had any right to you.” “oh, so you have a right to me?” “are you saying i don’t, darling?” in a blink, his dagger was pressed against your neck once more, the metal cool against your skin.
“tell me, sweetheart. tell me i don’t have a right to you,” he breathed, eyes sparkling, “go on.” “jace,” you exhaled shakily, pulse thudding against the blade. “mm? let me hear it, darling,” he murmured, cloyingly sweet. you parted your lips, his knee grinding up against you, stealing your breath. “it’s only ever been me,” he rasped, watching you intently, “it’s only ever been us, angel. you know it.” “jace, please,” you strained against him, heat pooling deep in your core, your thighs clenching around his, “it’s you. it’s always you.” “you’re writhing around just from my knife at your neck,” he sounded impossibly pleased, “what will you do when i finally fuck you, love?” you clenched around nothing, desperate for some stimulation, “please, just touch me.” he tsk’d, tucking his dagger away, trailing one hand between your thighs, cupping your heat. “you’re soaked,” he murmured, “can feel you through your pants, sweetheart. is this all for me?” “of course,” your back arched as he finally slipped his hand beneath your leggings, fingers searingly hot against your drenched core. “oh, you’re dripping,” he took in a sharp breath, pushing your underwear to the side, “you’re sure about this?”
“yes,” you said immediately, “of course.” he kissed you, slow and intense, as he rubbed your clit with two fingers. you moaned into his mouth as you kissed him back messily, gripping his shoulders to hold yourself up. he slowly, tentatively pushed a finger inside of you, your walls sucking in the digit greedily. “oh, angel,” he rested his forehead against yours, wet, slick wounds filling the air. you tried your hardest to stifle your moans, your teeth digging into your bottom lip. “jace,” you mewled, “please, i can’t-“ “you have to be quiet, sweetheart,” he murmured, resting a hand on the back of your head, letting you bury your face in his chest, “you’re so responsive. i knew you’d be like this.” you balled your fast in his shirt, legs shaking as his hand worked between your thighs, fingers curling expertly. “i’m close,” you let out a broken, stifled moan against his firm chest, dizzy with pleasure. “let go for me, darling,” he coaxed, “there you go, that’s it.” “oh, god,” your muscles went taut as your released washed over you, trembling in his hold. “perfect,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, carefully withdrawing his fingers, “you’re incredible.”
“let me-“ you reached for his belt, but he stopped you, bringing your hand to his face and pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “i want to be able to savor this,” he murmured, “come to my room tonight when everyone’s asleep.” the anticipation washed over you, warm and welcome. “okay,” you nodded, “ten?” “not a minute later, darling,” he smiled, a rare, disarmingly authentic sight, kissing you quickly, “i’ll be counting the seconds.” you watched him go, fingers brushing your tingling lips, giddy and flushed. you returned to your room, practically floating on air, mind reeling with possibilities. you showered, trying to keep yourself busy, taking your time scrubbing every inch of your skin and layering lotion after toweling off. you pulled on silky pajamas, lying across your bed, pointlessly flipping through a book as if you could focus on anything but jace. when ten o clock came and the floors of the institute were quiet, you passed to his room, away from the doors of the others. you knocked once, and he pulled it open immediately, a towel hanging around his hips and his golden hair still dripping beads of water.
“hi,” you exhaled, blinking up at him, mouth going dry. “hi yourself,” he grinned, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you, his lips on yours without wasting a second. you melted into him, winding your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to angle up towards him. his arms were rapped around your waist, lifting you up, the kiss deepening. you let out a surprised gasp when he picked you up fully, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his hips. “jace,” you giggled, giddy from the feeling of being with him. “i’ve got you,” his voice was husky, “don’t you trust me?” “more than anyone,” you kissed him again, clinging to him. his hands settled on your ass, squeezing you through your thin pajamas. he pushed you back against the door, kissing down your neck to your chest, undoubtedly leaving a blossoming trail of hickies in his path. you tugged at his damp hair, arching into him. he explored you with his hands, pushing up your tank, looking at you through his blonde lashes as he wrapped his lips around your hard nipple, the other rolled between two of his fingers. “oh, jace,” you threw your head back, keening. he palmed your breasts, groaning against your skin, straining against the towel. “need to fuck you,” he murmured, “want to take my time, but i need you so badly.” “we have all the time in the world,” you whimpered, “just fuck me, please.”
he let the towel drop, balancing your weight with one arm to push your shorts to one side. you sucked in a breath as his tip nudged your entrance, and you could feel him holding back, using all his restraint not to pound into you right there. “you’re sure?” he rasped, meeting your eyes. “positive,” you nodded, “please.” he pushed into you in one fluid motion, letting out a shuddered moan as you gasped, adjusting to his size. “perfect,” he exhaled, “you’re fucking perfect, darling.” “you’re so big,” you mewled, nails biting at his shoulders as he fucked you against the door, the wood thudding rhythmically. he held you, stilling inside you as he walked you to his bed, lying you on the silky sheets. “need to see you,” he said hoarsely, pulling out just long enough to rid you of your tank and shorts, his hands roaming your bare skin as he slid back into you. “you’re so beautiful, darling,” he praised, arms on either side of you, the mattress dipping with each thrust, “can’t believe you’re mine.” the words only added to the slick between your thighs, your wetness echoing as he thrusted. “feels so good,” you moaned, lost in pleasure, eyes rolled back. he placed a hand between you, his thumb rubbing your clit, circling it in time with the movement of his hips.
“jace,” you gasped, back arched off the bed, chest flush with his. “that’s it, angel,” he groaned, “you feel so good, i’m not gonna last.” “i’m so close,” you raked your nails down his neck, spasming around his length as he pressed firmly to your clit, sending you over the edge, raspy moans escaping your throat as you came around him. “oh, that’s- you’re perfect,” he moved his hands back to either side of you, the tips of his hair brushing your face, “can i- do i need to pull out?” “have the run,” you managed, voice trembling. “fuck,” he let out a deep, guttural moan as he came inside you, chest heaving. he dropped his head to your chest as you both caught your breath, pressing lazy kisses to your sweat sheened skin. he rolled off of you after a moment, lying on his back, pulling you into his arms. “that was overdue,” he finally said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “should’ve made a move sooner,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “it was worth the wait,” he ruffled your hair lightly, “sleep in here?” “wouldn’t dream of leaving.”
₊˚୧ PAIRING: Henry 'Mr Whatsit' Creel x f!reader || Stranger Things
₊˚୧ CATEGORIES: angst | smut | READER 18+
₊˚୧ WARNING: manipulation/gaslighting, arguing, cunnilingus, control play, a bit of choking at some point, praising, dom!Henry, Vecna hand mentioned
₊˚୧ HINT: You act different and Henry searches your mind for answers.
₊˚୧ WORD COUNT: 2k
"Tsk... I don't like it when you are being difficult, sweetheart."
His tendrilous hand, sharp claw-like nails squealed, and a grunt of frustration came from the man as he tried to penetrate your mind. A weak one, yet you were putting up quite the fight. What was it that you were protecting so courageously from him? What secrets did you hold back?
You had been so obvious.
You found out Henry's secret, even though you had promised to accept it; a few days later, you began to act unlike yourself. To avoid him, unable to look in his eyes when he called you for breakfast, lunch, or dinner...
"Sweetheart, care to join me?"
And despite the honey in his voice, you'd act skittish around him. He couldn't understand the shift, what could have happened. What prompted that change? Henry grunted, facial muscles tense as he tried to concentrate his whole focus on breaking your defence.
And he did ...
The search wasn't long. Almost immediately, Henry found what he was looking for. The cause of your behaviour.
Henry pulled back from you, an expression of confusion plastered on his face. At first, confusion, then it melted into a sort of distaste, and then it all went to an unreadable blank. A soft, deep exhale. Was all the effort to break your defences worth it? When 'this' was your secret?
You dropped to the floor, eyes on him as his hand steadily returned to normal and he let his sleeve drop back in place, buttoning the cuff without his eyes being particularly fixed on his clothes. Rather, as he fixed his shirt, his gaze was on your face. How frightened you seemed, and perhaps curious? Henry knew you were wondering what he found in your mind that caused him to release you.
He didn't find what he needed, but he found better.
Henry squatted down until he was closer to your level, hand going to your jaw. The way his fingers curled, and he raised your chin to look up at him with the side of his index finger, made you gulp. Henry didn't respond to your physical reaction to his action, not even a blink.
"After everything I've done for you? Even though you knew..."
Henry tilted his head with a calculated and slow movement. The silence of his home only amplified the tension that was growing within you.
"Hm, I wouldn't have expected this from you, sweetheart. How unfortunate. It can't be helped..." Henry's hand left your chin, sliding upward to cradle your cheek in his large palm, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "How curious. You don't understand? No... You do understand."
Henry's thumb came to a stop, pressing against your bottom lip, trying to separate it from the top one. When you ambitioned yourself to deny him, being a stubborn lady, he grunted and swiftly clasped your cheeks between his thumb and index, forcing your head back and up to watch him.
Henry leaned in. Those hypnotising blue eyes were drilling through you. Your breathing quickened, but Henry didn't let go. His lips were stilled in a neutral expression, but his brow knitted in a frown.
"Why do you deny me, Y/N?" He asked, fingers tightening their hold, almost forbidding you from speaking. He continued with his own questions, not waiting for an answer. "Are you afraid? Tell me, sweetheart. Are you afraid of me? When I was the one who granted you freedom?" He inquired, with a soft accusatory tone, emphasising each sentence, adding a drop of hurt to them, causing you to feel ashamed that you had dared to hide things from him.
"Was it not I who offered you an escape?"
"It's not the same thing..."
"Silence." Henry's frown deepened. "Have I given you any reason not to put your trust in me? Answer me now, Y/N."
"I... guess not."
"You guess?"
He tilted his head, frustration visible in his eyes. You stuttered, trying to clarify what you meant.
"No... not until now, no."
"And now? Has something changed?"
"You betrayed me... You searched my mind without my consent and-"
Henry snapped. His lips twitched with frustration.
"I, betrayed your trust? Do you hear yourself, sweetheart? Was it not you who changed? You avoided me, and when I gave you a chance to admit to the reason, you tried to avoid me once again."
"But that gave you no right to-"
"You are with me here. Become a pest, and I will not hesitate to treat you like one. I can't trust that you follow my cause if you avoid answering one simple question."
You averted your gaze, but Henry forced your head back, "Do you understand, Y/N?" His calm was more frightening than anything. You expected him to snap and harm you, but it was always controlled, so dangerously clinical... cold and sterile. Icy.
"You said I'd have freedom at last... that you can grant it to me." You started quietly. "Searching my mind isn't freedom."
Henry pulled back. There was anger, almost disbelief at your words.
"I gave you freedom in exchange for your trust and obedience. You disregarded my only requests."
"So then, my freedom is conditioned? What makes it any different from the freedom I could've had back there? I'm starting to think you are no different than those you call pests."
That infuriated Henry, and perhaps the Mind Flayer too, because in an instant, Henry grabbed your throat and lifted you by it with ease. Then he shoved you back down with a loud thud.
"You are the one who isn't any different."
Henry's hand raised, and you could feel the threat, but he stopped himself before he could dispose of you. Henry remembered that this was but a foolish fight, because after all, you hadn't truly backstabbed him, only stupidly hid your thoughts from him. And the cowardice you displayed? It wasn't the shame of betraying him. It was the natural human impulse associated with the kind of thoughts you harboured.
Henry's arm dropped by his side, and he exhaled deeply.
"Hmph..."
You were confused, genuinely expecting Henry to end you there, but instead, he came over and picked you up in his arms. He was gentle, eyeing your confusion and then the marks left by his own hand on your throat.
These bodies were so fragile...
He set you down on the couch, then stood up, gazing down at you.
"I understand why you have tried so hard to protect these thoughts, but sweetheart, you are not allowed to do so again. Look what you nearly caused me to do to you. Wouldn't it have been a catastrophe if I didn't control myself in time?" Henry sat on the couch by you, stroking your cheek with the back of his palm "Even if it's shameful. Shame will pass."
Henry dropped down in front of the couch, kneeling slowly, much to your surprise, which he calmly accepted. So then he saw it, the real reason why you avoided him, the cause of your shame.
Your head turned to the side, but that didn't stop Henry, whose hands went to your thighs, palms pressing up against the fabric that protected your flesh. His fingers worked up to the waistband, and he began to wiggle you out of your trousers.
"Wait... Henry-"
Henry didn't wait. He pulled your trousers off, yanked your legs and set your thighs on his shoulders. At your squirming and ashamed complaints, Henry would bury his fingers in your thighs, grunting against them.
"You were not this squeamish in your mind." Henry pointed out, working with kisses from your knee to the inside of your left thigh, repeating the treatment with the right one, occasionally nipping at your skin. "The comfort of your imagination will not protect you now. This is what you wanted, isn't it? If I give it to you, sweetheart, you won't have anything else to hide from me."
His finger slid across your panties, index pressing ever so gently, just enough to push the fabric against your soaked slit, causing them to stain with your arousal. At the slightly moist sensation beneath his finger, Henry nodded, pleased.
"Do you see this, sweetheart? Can you feel it?" He asked, his voice unreadable. You couldn't tell if that tone was honest or played to mess with you, but he sounded as if he was talking you through it. "Mhm, just as I expected. These will be beyond salvaging. Oh, and what a shame. They looked so beautiful on you." Henry's finger drew back from the fabric, and now with both hands, the man tore them open.
You squeaked, trying to complain, but he shot you a glance that silenced you.
"I said, they were irreparable as it is. Far too soaked. But I will get you much more adorable ones." The man promised, letting the ruined fabric drop on the floor. "Now, I want you to look at me. Can you do that, sweetheart?"
When you relented to his request and started watching him, Henry smiled and applied one soft kiss on your mound, before embracing your thighs, hands kneading the flesh while his mouth started to work on your cunt, tantalisingly slow and careful to catch each reaction of your body.
At first, there were kisses, so gentle and soft that your hips jerked in an attempt to get more of him, instinctively. To that, Henry grunted and steadied you in place on the couch. He enjoyed this position, knelt in front of the couch, while you were forced to look down at him as he ate you out.
Then the kisses turned into laps, tongue pressed against your slit, sliding past your lips to your clit, which he would stop to tease with flicks of his tongue before going back to your opening and forcing his tongue inside to the best of his power. If you ever wiggled out of his grasp, his hold on you would tighten, keeping you down and watching.
"You are being so good, sweetheart, so good. You won't hide from me again, correct? You will tell your dear Henry everything." The last statement was not a question, but a definite command, which, in your delightful haze as he ate you out, couldn't but nod to and promise to respect.
"Good, I like that, sweetheart. See? All you had to do was tell me. I could've given you what you wanted from the start..."
Henry shifted, adding his hand to help out his mouth, finger prodding at your entrance. One slid in with ease, then a second followed. He thrusted them, curling them to hit your sensitive spot, which caused you to arch and push your cunt right into his hungry mouth, tongue messing with your clit with the intention to push you over the edge. That's when you reached down and grabbed his hair, trying to buck into that pleasure, to gain more of it.
Henry couldn't talk anymore; his mouth was too busy, but you could hear in your mind what he'd tell you.
"Never hide from me. Give yourself to me, mind and body, and only through me you'll be granted freedom."
When you climaxed against his mouth, he made sure to guide you through it, both with his tongue and fingers, and when at last he pulled back, he wiped his mouth and pushed himself up to his feet, admiring his work. On his couch, naked from the waist down, with your own arousal dripping down your thighs, was you.
So that was it then.
Your skittish behaviour around him was not because you planned to betray him, but because you, like all those humans out there, couldn't fight off these instincts. And when he became the target of these desires, your shame prompted you to act foolishly and avoid him. Henry praised himself on his quick thinking, on having been able to figure out the cause of your change.
And even better, he was pleased to know you were still on his side. After all, he did make you a promise that had you come with him, you'd be by his side as he reshaped this world. He feared, for a moment, that you, his partner, changed your mind, but he came to see it was quite different.
You didn't desire to leave him, but to have him far too close for your own good.
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