melissa

☆ Peter Parker who is so used to your presence that he gets antsy when it's time to leave for a patrol. His phone buzzes; he inches towards your open window, but he hops back down, saying for the third time I don’t need to go, honey when you usher him out. His fingers reach for your waist, and he silently hopes you'll ask to stay so that he can climb back on the couch with you.

☆ Peter Parker who gets choked up the first time you fix his suit. He'd walked out of the bathroom to see you bent over the sink. You'd sewn up a tear on the shoulder with your pocket sewing kit, and you were elbow-deep in suds, scrubbing the blood out of the fabric. You smiled up at him, and it felt like an embrace. He placed a hand at your spine, muttering something like you don't have to do that, baby but you insisted it wasn't a bother. Said he'd get cold if the wind kept getting through, and it was the first time that he'd felt unconditionally loved again.

☆ Peter Parker who brings you flowers, slightly dishevelled, when he'd not seen you for more than a day, like it was something he needed to apologise for. You'd take them, laugh, and say, Pete, I was only at work.

☆ Peter Parker who crawls straight into the bedroom from the street, never once bothering to use the keys you gave him. 

☆ Peter Parker who, exhausted from a night of crime fighting, longs to slip into bed beside you. He knows the only way he'll rest is pressed against your warm, soft skin. It's all he thinks about as he swings through the city.

☆ Peter Parker who wakes up the morning after a tough night to the smell of fresh coffee, feeling guilty for not having risen early enough to make it for you. Despite the ache in his bones, he'll roll himself out of the sheets to find you. 

☆ Peter Parker who twirls his fingers in your hair when he locates you in the kitchen. He'll press gentle kisses to the side of your face as a thank you when you press a warm mug into his palm. He'll place it down on the counter, turn you to face him, and nip gratefully at your jaw. 

☆ Peter Parker who swallows hard when your lips brush against his - as if it were always the first time. He'd wash his gaze over you, needing reassurance that you were real. His heart hammers frantically against his chest, and he'd dip his head to kiss you. You’d open your mouth with a little gasp, and he’d groan.

“You’re the one mystery I have yet to solve,” Henry starts, appearing out of almost thin air, startling you as you were washing the dishes. You drop a plate into the sink, and it breaks cleanly into two. 

“Everyone else is frustrating—yes—but I know how to figure them out,” he continues, making himself visible in your kitchen as he steps out of the shadows, making his way closer to you with every step he takes. 

The sky outside was pitch black, with not a star in sight. There was no sound in your apartment except for your TV in the other room and your faucet running. 

You put your hands on the counter next to the sink, not turning to face him.

You still say nothing.

“I can’t figure you out,” he says, the shadow of his figure growing as he approaches behind you. 

You grip the counter harder. Your knuckles start to turn white.

“You’re going to tell me why that is,” he states in a commanding voice, turning you around with his powers to look at him.

Your breath quickens, and you hope that to him it appears as nothing but pure fear.

It is not fear. This is adrenaline. You know he won’t get far. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deny, keeping a neutral face and tone. Your voice doesn’t shake.

Henry narrows his eyes, now standing only a few inches in front of you. He looks at you as if he were trying to figure you out by your eyes alone. 

“Bullshit,” Henry hisses, his eyebrows furrowing more as every second passes. 

You raise your eyebrows, not cowering at his intense stare. 

This confuses him. He tilts his head back slightly, taken aback. 

He exhales noisily through his nose, showing his frustration. 

Then, his eyes begin to roll back and close. 

Your head starts to pound, and you figure out what he is attempting to do relatively quickly.

“Ow,” you deadpan, massaging your temples with your fingers. 

Henry’s eyes snap open, and he looks at you with an even more confused look. He looks you up and down.

“What the—”

“Sit down,” you order, yanking him with your powers to sit on the couch in your living room, which was not far from your kitchen. 

You walk to the couch and stand in front of him, where he is sitting and looking at you with a mix of extreme anger and confusion that remains on his face from before, only growing. 

“You couldn’t just mind your own business, could you?” you jeer, taking in his deep scowl. You chuckle. 

“I haven’t fucked with your plans, have I? You’ve killed some of my friends, you’re apparently wanting to completely end this world—or something incredibly sad and dramatic—yet I have stayed in my own lane,” you sneer, crouching the slightest bit so that you are eye level with him.

“So tell me, why is your nose in my business, Henry?” you ask, prompting an answer from him.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he threatens, his eyes growing angrier and bloodshot. You laugh at this.

“You’re the one who can’t figure me out,” you remind him, an amused grin taking over your lips. 

Henry’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His breathing quickens, and something close to a whimper escapes his lips. 

His intimidating front cracks open for a split second—so quick that it could easily be missed.

You raise an eyebrow, standing up tall again. 

“Cat got your tongue?” you taunt. 

Henry has had enough. 

He yanks you backwards with his powers, pinning you against the wall. You chuckle, panting as you are caught off guard. 

He starts walking toward you, and you tilt your head to the right in a snap, looking at his knee. With your powers, you cause him to trip and fall onto the ground in front of you. 

Henry looks at you, and he is so angry that steam could be coming out of his ears. He tries to lift you with his powers, but you fight back with almost no effort, staying on the ground. 

Your jaw ticks, annoyed. 

“If you stop, I will stop too,” you tell him. Henry frowns.

“Tell me what you’re up to,” he says through his teeth, still trying to move you with his powers and failing. You press your lips into a straight line, shaking your head. 

You pull Henry back to sit down on the couch again with your powers, catching him off guard again. He stops trying to move you with his powers and winces in pain, holding his hand close to his chest after he lands on it. 

“Henry,” your voice cuts through the room, causing him to blink a few times. “Stop. I don’t want to hurt you.” Your voice has a hardened edge to it, but still a gentle undertone. 

“Why not?” he asks, more genuinely than you are expecting. 

Henry’s scowl is replaced with a poor attempt at a poker face, with notes of confusion and… fear?

You start to walk towards the couch again, very slowly. 

“I know how to use my words,” you say, simply. “Do you know how to use your words, Henry?”

Henry’s nostrils flare, frustrated with this line of questioning. “Of course I know how to use my words.” 

You click your tongue, standing in front of him now as you shake your head in disapproval. 

“Are you sure about that?” you press further, standing tall as he looks up at you once again.

His scowl returns, and he tilts his head back, trying to move you again with his powers. You chuckle, pushing him so that he is completely backed into the couch with your powers. 

He groans, sharp pain stabbing his head. 

“Henry,” you say in a warning voice, lifting his chin with your powers so that he is looking at you again. “Stop. Don’t make me ask you again.”

Henry exhales shakily, reluctantly nodding. Tears collect in his eyes, not daring to fall. 

“Okay,” he whispers, looking away from you as he tries to school his breathing back to normal. You nod, satisfied, taking a step back to give him a little space. 

Henry looks a little shocked at himself for giving in so quickly. For surrendering. 

He is used to being the one making people surrender to him. Not the other way around. 

“Do you want some water?” you offer, as if everything were completely normal again. Confusion washes over Henry’s face for a moment before being taken over by exhaustion.

“I—sure,” he replies, brushing the wrinkles down that had formed on the front of his shirt. 

Something close to a smile grazes your face, and you gesture with your head for him to follow you into the kitchen. He looks to the ground, clearly contemplating whether he should or not, before ultimately deciding to follow you. 

He stands awkwardly near the exit of the kitchen, his hands folded together in front of him. He watches you as you grab a cup from the cupboard and as you fill it with water. 

You look over to him, catching his gaze on you before he snaps his head to look away, a light blush dusting his cheeks. 

You bite back a smile, finding it kind of… adorable?

You turn off the faucet and hold it out, raising your eyebrows as a prompt for him to come closer to you to grab it. 

He comes to grab it, and his fingers brush yours as he does, and a slight shiver trickles down his spine. 

That was unexpected. 

Henry takes a sip of the water and lets out a small, relaxed sigh as he does. 

“Have you calmed down, now?” you ask him, hopping to sit on the counter behind you. Henry hums. 

“Who are you?” he interrogates, ignoring your question, hiding his face a little behind the cup of water subconsciously. 

“I’m nobody important,” you answer with a shrug, hopping off the counter and opening the fridge. You grab a can of soda, cracking it open immediately and taking a big gulp.

Henry stands closer to you now, holding his cup of water as if it were the one thing grounding him to this planet. 

“Nobody important,” he echoes back to you, completely unconvinced. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” you ask, hopping back onto the counter and setting your soda to the side of you. 

“You stopped my powers from working on you,” he says, almost impressed. “You have powers.” 

“Did you think you and the lab kids were the only ones, Henry? Really?” You sigh, swinging your legs as you sit on the counter. 

“Are you not from the lab?” he wonders, standing feet away from you now. 

“No. I’m not,” she answers plainly, picking up her drink again and taking another long gulp. 

“Then where are you f—” “I don’t want to talk about it,” she snaps, causing Henry to flinch slightly. She bites her lip, debating whether she should feel bad about it or not. 

Henry leans his side against the counter, looking at her as if he were trying to figure something out again.

“Okay,” he says, leaving it alone. Your eyes furrow, surprised. 

“Did I scare you into submission or something? What is this?” you joke, laughing nervously as you now notice how close he is to you.

Henry’s breath catches in his throat involuntarily, and he tries to pass it off as clearing his throat. 

His attempt at concealing it has failed. You definitely noticed. 

A sly smirk takes over your lips. 

“Fascinating,” you remark, looking at him with more interest now. “I have, haven’t I?” you say with a breathy laugh, not believing the sight before you. 

Henry Creel was nervous. 

Because of you. 

You scan him, head to toe, and find another thing you were not expecting.

A tent in his pants.

Your eyes stop the scan, zoning in on his crotch, and he notices after a brief second. 

Henry scrambles to grab a plate, to cover how hard all of this made him, but you catch his wrists with your hand.

“You’re hard,” you observe, cocking an eyebrow. Henry lets out a huff, trying to move to grab a plate again. You’re stronger than him, so he ends up just wiggling around for a moment.

His face grows a deep shade of red. 

But he also looks… confused?

As if he’s never felt something like this before.

You squint your eyes, deep in thought. You realize he probably has never felt anything like this before. 

You feel a pang of empathy hit, but decide to put it aside for another time. 

“Say something, Henry,” you whisper, a little more gentle towards him than you were expecting from yourself. 

He looks away, his whole expression filled with embarrassment. 

“I’m—I don’t know what to say. I came to threaten you, and now I’m hard? How pathetic does that sound?” he says, shaking his head. He won’t look at you.

“Pretty pathetic,” you put bluntly, and he frowns deeply. “But…” you start, grabbing his chin, making him look into your eyes. 

Then, you start to sink to your knees in front of him. 

His lips part and his eyebrows knit together at the sight, fighting back a moan.

“I have a thing for pathetic men,” you finish, now on your knees in front of him, looking up at him. Henry’s chest rises and falls faster, and he bites his lip, not able to find the confidence he usually has within himself to say anything.

“I really have broken you, haven’t I?” you ask, inching your face closer to the bulge in his brown slacks. Henry’s breath hitches, loud this time.

There was no denying he was enjoying this.

You smirk, your hot breath reflecting onto you from his pants. 

“Tell me what you want from me, Henry,” you say, gentle but firm. Henry puts his hands on the counter, keeping himself balanced.

“I—you. Please,” he croaks, looking as if he was still conflicted with himself.

“Nuh uh. Be more specific,” you press, shaking your head. Henry sighs.

“Don’t make me say it,” he almost whines, shaking his head. You click your tongue, pulling your face away from him and crossing your arms.

“You came here to kill me. I had to tame your ass,” you point out, annoyed. “And you think I’m just going to suck your dick without you begging me for it? Hilarious,” you finish with a humorless chuckle, fixing your hair as you watch him take in what you’ve just said. 

Henry’s eyes open wide, and he immediately sports a small scowl on his face. The tent in his pants has not gone away. If anything, it has just twitched. 

“Who are you?” he hisses, pressing once again. You roll your eyes. 

“Okay, I might be on my knees in front of you, but that does not mean that you’re in charge here,” you say, standing up and shoving him from where he was standing, pressing down on his shoulders so that he is now the one on his knees. “Since you seemed to think so, this is much better.”

Henry bows his head slightly as he’s on his knees, as if a wave of something had immediately taken over him. 

“Look at me,” you instruct him, signaling with your finger for him to come closer. He scoots closer, looking up at you immediately.

He’s gone. 

“Do you want to taste me?” you ask, hands on your hips. Henry’s breath stutters, and the tips of his ears turn a bright red.

He doesn’t answer—just sits there with a guilty look on his face.

“So, do you want me just to stand here all night instead? Get your knees nice and bruised with no good explanation?” you wonder, stepping closer to him. 

You lift his chin, making him look directly up at you. 

Henry tries to school his expression, but desperately fails. 

“Do you want to be rewarded, Henry?” you ask, tracing your finger along his jawline, feeling him shiver as you do. 

“Please,” he whispers, the words falling from his lips like a prayer. “I want to taste you.” 

You grin, running your hands through his hair with a satisfied hum.

“Good boy. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” you purr, unzipping your jeans and pulling them off. Henry watches your every move, his hungry expression growing more obvious.

“I’m not a good—,” he starts, cutting himself off with a groan. “I’m not a good boy,” he tries again. 

The words fall flat. 

You tilt your head, confused.

“You’re not?” you question. “So… you’re saying that you don’t want this?” you follow up, pulling lightly at the sides of your panties, releasing them with a snap. 

Henry’s nostrils flare in frustration, and he almost chokes on his own spit.

“I didn’t say that,” he says, his voice wavering a little. 

You think for a moment before you pull down your panties, revealing your soaked pussy to him. Henry’s eyes burn holes into you, and he stares at you like a man dying of thirst.

“Please,” he pleads, the word coming out of his mouth easier than he thought it would. His eyes fight between looking up at you and down at your cunt. 

You gesture with your hand for him to come closer, and he obeys immediately. You point at yourself, raising your eyebrows. Henry nods, immediately latching his mouth onto your pussy. 

He licks up and down, finding your clit with ease and circling it with his tongue. You let out a moan, your back arching as you push into his mouth further. He hums affirmatively, understanding your request, and the vibration of his voice makes your entire body tremble in pleasure.

He sucks and licks harder, and is clearly enjoying every moment of it. 

He wanted to taste you. He wanted to see how you looked when he touched you.

“Henry, fuck, good boy. You’re doing so good,” you say, running your fingers through his hair as he continues, letting your nails press down on his scalp. 

Henry lets out a groan onto you as he closes his eyes, taking in the praise. 

You can feel it—yourself inching towards the finish line.

You don’t want to cum yet.

You pull Henry off by his hair, leaving him confused. The entire bottom half of his face is shining in the light from devouring you.

“Is everything alr—,” he starts to ask, but is swiftly cut off by you saying...

“I want to fuck you,” you state, your lips are red from biting down on them.

Henry frowns, still on his knees and looking up at you. “I’ve never… I don’t,” he trails off, looking a little nervous. You nod, tracing his jawline with your finger.

“I had a feeling, baby. I know. But… does the idea excite you at all?” you wonder, brushing your fingers through his hair again. “Would you let me if I told you I know how to make it feel good?” 

Henry looks to the floor, eyebrows scrunched as he thinks hard. You give him a little while to think, and eventually he looks back up.

“Would you tell anyone?” he asks you. 

“Will you get your nose out of my business?” you ask, in response. Henry shrugs.

“I can’t promise that,” he answers with a grimace. You snort.

“You’re so fucking dumb,” you say sharply.  “Why would I promise to keep something secret for you if you can’t promise to just butt out of my business? You’ve already seen that I’m more powerful than you, and that I stay out of your business.” Henry sighs, growing frustrated. 

“If people knew—”

“Yes, Henry. If people knew, it’d suck for both of us. I’m friends with your enemies, but individually? I can turn a blind eye. I know firsthand what has turned you into whatever fucked up version of yourself that you’ve become, and I don’t want to mess with it,” you explain, kneeling to be level with him.

“The Mind Flayer isn’t something I’d like to mess with again,” you whisper. 

Henry tilts his head, confused, before blaring hot pain shoots through him. His expression turns into one of pure anguish, and he falls to the ground, clutching his head.

You sigh.

“Okay, stop. Sorry that I brought it up,” you say to what you immediately guess is the Mind Flayer making a grand appearance. “I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just leave him alone for now.”

After a brief moment, Henry’s expression of pain turns into one of confused relief. He sits up, eyeing you as if you’re the most mysterious thing he has ever seen.

“What was that?” he asks, hissing through his teeth as he attempts to sit up. He fails the first time, falling back onto his face, before successfully getting back up.

“Your good friend, my old friend, the details don’t matter right now. The more you think about the details, the more likely whatever just happened will happen again, so I’d recommend you stop. I want to get back to what we were talking about,” you say, standing up again. “I know how to get that pretty head of yours blank, if you’ll let me.”

Henry looks as if he’s going to think about it more before he shakes his head at himself and then looks up at you with a look that could only be described as pure desperation.

“Yeah. I’ll let you,” he says. “Please fuck me.” 

You smile at this before standing and walking over to your bedroom, signaling for him to follow.

When you get to your room, you open a drawer. In this drawer, you pull out your strap-on, a condom, and some lube. 

Henry walks in slowly, his legs weak. He stands there awkwardly, before you start to walk towards him. 

“Take your clothes off,” you command. Henry nods, scrambling to take off every article of clothing on him.

Once he does, and is stark naked, you finally see his hard, aching cock bounce against his stomach. 

“Lie on the bed for me. Ass up,” you say, snapping your fingers. He nods, continuing to follow your instructions.

“I’m going to finger you first. It’s going to feel weird at first, okay? It will feel good, though, I promise,” you reassure him. You put the harness on and put a condom on the strapped-on dildo. Then, you snap the cap off the bottle of lube, coating your fingers.

You kneel on the bed and press one finger in slowly, and his breath catches in his throat.

You work him up to two fingers, and by this point, he’s a writhing mess on the bed. 

“Oh my god, Henry. You’re so close already, aren’t you, baby?” you say, curling your fingers deeper each time. 

He can’t hold back his moans anymore. He lets out a whimper. 

A whimper.

“Ohh, the sounds you’re making. You like this, don’t you?” you ask, pulling out your fingers slowly and grinning, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He sighs his face into the closest pillow on the bed and groans.

“Does someone want to be fucked with my strap?” you coo, rubbing your hand up and down his back, and on his ass.

No response.

Whack.

Your hand comes down on Henry’s right ass cheek. 

Henry is taken aback, and lets out the loudest whine he has probably let out in his entire life.

“Henry. Use your words,” you warn, massaging the spot where you struck him. 

Henry hesitates before he responds with a groan into a pillow again.

“Are you trying to be a brat right now?” you ask, almost another warning.

Henry doesn’t respond again, just sinks further into the mattress.

Whack. 

You smack his left cheek this time. 

“Henry,” you warn him one last time. He lifts his head from the pillow and his breathing is uneven, and you can see the sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Please fuck me with your strap. Please,” he pleads. 

You smirk, reaching over to the lube and squirting a dollop onto your hand before stroking the dildo.

You line up the tip with his hole before slowly sinking into him. 

Henry lets out a stuttered moan, his face ghosting over the pillow he had his face in previously.

“Fuck,” he breathes, adjusting to the new feeling. 

“I’m going to give you a second. Tell me when I can move, okay, honey?” you say, finally bottoming out after a few seconds. He nods slowly.

Henry’s eyes squeeze shut as he focuses on the new feeling inside of him. His lips part the slightest bit as his breath stutters.

After a moment, Henry’s eyes relax a bit more. 

Then…

“Okay. You can move,” he speaks up, his voice groggy. “Please, move,” he asks now, more of a request this time.

You pull the slightest bit out, before slamming back into him.

Taken aback, he lets out a loud moan. 

“Shit,” Henry curses, his voice high and strained. 

You smirk, doing exactly what you just did again. 

The reaction from him remains similar.

“I figured you’d like it rough,” you say, developing a steady rhythm in your thrusts. “You needed to be tamed, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t—fuck,” he starts to protest, interrupted by you tugging on his hair. 

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t scold him. Didn’t ask him for more.

You didn’t have to.

Your hand in his hair was enough.

“Okay, yes. I did. I do need to be tamed. I do,” he pants, leaning into your thrusts. 

You run your nails from your free hand along his back, leaving a few red lines to remind him

of what happened.

“Good boy. Are you close already, Henry?” you praise and ask. You reach down, brushing your fingers along the length of him.

Henry lets out one of his whines, nodding fast, pressing his length into your hand as he does.

You chuckle, amused. 

You stop your thrusts and rub your hands along his back. 

“Tsk, you’re more of an idiot than I thought you were if you think I’m going to let you cum this fast,” you say, shaking your head in disapproval. Henry lets out a long exhale mixed with a whine, letting his face fall back into the pillow. You pull out of him slowly, and he groans, trying to lean into it as you remove it. 

You stand up and walk toward your drawer and open it up again, pulling out a small purple remote, which matches the dildo you have on the harness. 

Henry turns his head, still lying on the pillow, observing you. 

“What is that?” he asks. You smirk, pressing the power button. 

However, your smirk falters because you forgot the vibration would hit your clit first. You fall back onto the bed, hands first. 

Henry snorts at this, laughing into the pillow. You laugh with him, before crawling fully back onto the bed, turning off the vibrator. 

You shut him up fast by smacking his ass one last time, before lining up with his entrance, pushing back inside of him. His laughing stops immediately, and is turned swiftly into moans. 

After a minute or two of fucking him with a steady rhythm, you reach for the remote and turn the vibrator back on. You groan, rubbing your clit harder against the strap-on. 

Henry lets out a guttural sound, then a high-pitched cry comes from him as you press deeper and harder into him, your thrusts becoming more and more uneven as you chase your own release. 

“Do you want to cum, Henry?” you ask, breathless. Henry groans, humming affirmatively. “Uh uh. Yes or no,” you reprimand, scratching along his back. 

“Yes. Yes. Please, ma’am, may I cum?” he begs, half muffled into the pillow. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment, before realizing you have no more fight left in you.

You were going to cum any second. 

“Fine, baby. Let go for me,” you say, reaching down and stroking his throbbing cock. 

It doesn’t take long at all. In fact, almost as soon as you start touching him, he starts to fall over the edge.

Spurts of his warm cum cover his chest and your blankets and pillows. He sighs, twitching aggressively as he lets out every last drop. Once he is spent, you turn off the vibrator.

You don’t want to overstimulate him by thrusting into him once more, so you pull out of him slowly and carefully, before taking the strap-on off and lying on the bed next to him, beginning to touch yourself. 

Nothing is gentle about the way you’re circling your clit, you’re chasing a release that was almost there seconds ago. Henry lazily looks at you from where he was still lying down, and he frowns, stumbling as he uses his arm to prop himself up and crawl over to between your legs.

His mouth, covered in drool, latches onto your pussy, and he looks up to you—silently giving permission. You thread your fingers through his hair before tugging, using his face to bring you to your release. You release on his face, riding through your orgasm. 

You exhale shakily, brushing your sweaty hair out of your face and removing your hand from Henry’s hair. Henry sits up, wiping his face slowly, before lying beside you.

He was arguably more of a mess than you. He had a few tear marks on your pillows and on his face; his hair was a mess, and he was covered in his own release.

“I can’t believe I just fucked you,” you remark, covering your eyes with your hand. Henry bites back a tired grin.

“I can’t believe I just got fucked by you,” Henry replies. He retrieves his clothes with his powers, a flick of the wrist, still lying down. You grab your clothes and a clean towel with your powers. You grab a water bottle next to you, wetting the towel a little before you wipe between your legs. After you’re done, you give the towel to Henry for him to wipe himself off.

“Nap now, shower and leave after,” you say, short and simple. Henry nods, wiping off the blankets and pillows the best he can before wiping himself off. 

You both fall asleep, he sleeping facing the ceiling, and you turn onto your side.

——————

notes: hellooooooo!! forgive me, i'm relatively new to writing smut, and theres prob many errors in this, buuuut this was gr8 practice and uhm sub henry of course! I have a bunch of other works I need to work on or continue #FORGIVEME but heres a oneshot for now (if y'all want me to continue...... i'll consider it

not every1 likes sub henry so if u don't like it just please leave u don't have to read <3

It’s not exactly easy to wrangle an old man.

However it’s a lot easier to wrangle an old man that consumed a sedative because he’s comically tempted by the cafeteria’s beef stew.

Or, at least, what the cafeteria claims is beef stew.

Martin Brenner wakes up with his limbs secured down to a sturdy chair. He struggles for a minute, wiggling to attempt to break free.

“There’s no use in struggling.” You speak up, and Brenner’s gaze falls on you.

“What the hell are you doing.” He demands, his tone clearly more angry than scared.

“Hm. Well we can’t have you speaking like that now can we?” You pick up a roll of black duct tape. It makes a loud ripping sound as you unfurl a length of it and walk over to him. You stretch it over his mouth and press it down so that it stays.

Martin grasps tightly at the arms of the chair, his anger growing, but there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it. You smile wickedly at him,

“Now that’s better. Isn’t it? We can really get down to business now. I don’t really think there’s too much to explain to you. You know very well what you’ve spent years and years doing to countless innocent people. That’s why you’re here now. You’re uncomfortable, right? You’re angry, maybe even a little scared? How do you think all of those little kids felt, Brenner? No no, I don’t need you to imagine. I have one of them who wanted to join me for my little experiment.”

Henry Creel enters the room with a large tin of popcorn and a way too eager expression on his face. He walks to the front of the room and sits down in an open chair.

You look at him, clearly amused, as you fasten a shock collar around Brenner’s neck,

“You brought popcorn?”

Henry’s eyes go wide,

“Was I supposed to bring drinks too?”

You laugh,

“No no, Henry. We’re saving the apple juice for the party, remember?”

Henry snaps his fingers in realization,

“You’re right, (Y/N)!”

His gaze falls on Brenner,

“I trust he went down easy after that stew?” He asks.

“Oh, very easy. Thank you for the help, Henry.” You grin and walk towards him.

Henry takes a handful of caramel popcorn from the tin,

“Oh I’m very happy to help you, (Y/N). Just as I’m happy to share this popcorn with you. This one’s just for us. I got my hands on two of these things.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I have my ways.” Henry pops a piece of popcorn into his mouth and then looks down at Brenner,

“It’s funny. I keep almost forgetting you’re here. It's really quite relaxing around this place when you aren’t stalking your way through the hallways.”

Henry stands still and seems to bask in the feeling for a moment as he finishes the handful of caramelcorn.

“How many boxes of Jell-O mix do you think we’d need to trap you inside a jello mold?” Henry asks, tilting his head as he stands in front of Brenner.

But all Martin can do is shoot Henry a concerned glance, which makes Henry laugh. He points at the tape covering Martin’s mouth and smiles,

“Oh that’s right, we finally managed to get you to stop talking! It’s a fucking miracle.”

Henry takes a few steps away and looks to you instead,

“What do you think, (Y/N)?”

You grin back at him,

“Oh we’re going to need a lot. Especially if we want to put other things in there with him.” You pluck a piece of popcorn from the tin and pop it in your mouth.

Henry folds his hands behind his back and begins to pace back and forth.

“Exactly. You know… my mother used to make really foul jello molds. Actually that’s why killing her at the dinner table wasn’t so bad. She had put sardines and leftover mac and cheese into a cherry jello that night. And well don’t you know it, she had an evil little rule… do you know that rule, (Y/N).” He pauses for a moment, looking at you.

“You can’t leave the table until you’ve cleared your plate?” You respond, leaning nonchalantly against the back of the chair Henry had isolated.

“Martin, do you know how many jello molds, how many casseroles I had to force down because of that rule? Not that you fed us any better. What is that slop in the cafeteria anyways? What exactly are you forcing everyone here to eat? I suppose it doesn’t matter, right? We’re all just a bunch of little lab rats so who cares, right?”

“He likes the beef stew, I think we should use beef stew.” You chime in.

When Henry looks at you his eyes are shining in anticipation,

“Oh absolutely. That’s the worst one. Still can’t believe that’s his favorite.”

You walk over to Henry and place a remote in his hand.

“Thank you, dear.” Henry’s tone shifts dramatically when he talks to you as opposed to Brenner.

“I even put fresh batteries in it.” You grin at him and sit down in the chair, setting the popcorn tin in your lap.

“Oh? Let me check.” Henry says, and clicks the button on the remote.

The collar around Brenner’s neck roars to life with a loud zap that makes him tense in pain.

“Oh yeah, these are definitely fresh batteries.” Henry laughs and presses the button again. Martin tenses up more this time from the repetitive shock.

You let your head fall to the side slightly to see around Henry,

“It’s funny, he’s already in pain and you’ve only done that twice. How many times does he usually do it to the kids? Little kids who have no where near as much pain tolerance?”

“Five in a row for the kids. Though he makes his henchmen give me ten. So, what do you say, (Y/N), fifteen for the old man?”

“Fifteen sounds perfect.”

And so, after fifteen shocking shocks, five of which Henry offers you to administer, Martin Brenner passes out.

Which makes it a lot easier to hand him over to the kitchen for his jelloing.

The kitchen workers even managed to procure some fish, onions, noodles, and various rotten fruit to add to the jello mold.

In the meantime, Henry and yourself get the Rainbow Room ready for the party. Everything usually in the room is shoved aside in order to place tables of sweets, juice boxes, and chocolate milks. There’s even balloons scattered on the ceiling.

You stay to finish setting up while Henry goes to round up the children. It doesn’t take him long, and your heart is warmed by the excited expressions on their faces. They had never had a celebration like this, they had never had sweets like this either.

They’re allowed to run wild, to have fun, to make a mess of the place with absolutely no rules or consequences. And, even though their screams of delight hurt both your and Henry’s ears, they’re almost a welcomed delight.

Henry offers you a plate with a slice of cake,

“I didn’t know this would feel so good. It’s nice to see them actually enjoying themselves.”

You take the plate from Henry and smile,

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

Henry smiles back at you,

“Oh I absolutely am.”

As if on cue, the doors to the rainbow room push open and a giant green jello mold is wheeled in by the kitchen staff. Inside, trapped, is Martin Brenner.

The children all burst into laughter and immediately swarm the large jello. They start shoving it.

The jello wiggles and wobbles in an almost menacingly evil way, forcing Brenner to move with it as the gelatin and various foul ingredients keep him imprisoned.

The children are relentless, and Brenner passes away from wiggle related injuries much to the delight of everyone in Hawkins National Laboratory. ☆

happy april fools!