Summary: Henry's plan is going accordingly. When he realizes he needs someone to watch the kids he picks you. Now you're his little housewife.
Contents: under Henry's spells (but you're right where you wanna be), brief housewife stereotypes, nicknames, manipulation, suggestive ending but no real smut
MDNI WITH THIS AND MY BLOG
A/N: This is written for my bestie @kawaiibambiii cause I corrupted her to watch stranger things and now she is hooked. So I had to do the deed of writing her man for her. But I also wanted to share it with y'all.
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Henry had a plan. A plan to get all 12 vessels in the smoothest and easiest way. But with everyone catching on to who he was taking his plan had to change accordingly. The first vessel was the easiest. But it came very clear that the rest were gonna be harder. He was gonna need someone to watch the kids since it was gonna take longer than he planned. After some thinking he realized he needed a maternal figure. Someone to comfort the kids. Make them feel safe and sound. Easily trusted type of person.
After multiple trips back to the real world to find someone he finally found success. You. You were strong, smart, very caring, and very sweet. Plus you working at a job that seemed to be wearing you down was enough to inspire him on how he'd take you. He knew it needed to be fast. So in the cover of night he entered your home. There you were all tired out still in work clothes fully crashed on your bed. Using those magical powers he entered your mind. Started feeding you false memories. Planting how you had been dating for a while and how you knew he left for "work". This "work" being going and getting the kids for his big plan. One you didn't know much about but you knew you needed to take care of these kids and the home.
You woke up groggily. Laying in bed in a short slip dress, hair all over, everything smelling very new but familiar. You sat up and noticed the room. Pink with lace trimmings everywhere. Pink curtains on the extremely large windows. The blanket's shades of pink and white. The only thing that was out of the ordinary in what seemed to be your dream bedroom was the giant dark oak bed frame. Definitely not what you would have picked. A very masculine touch in what seemed to be your feminine room.
"good morning sweetheart" you heard from the doorway. You pulled the blankets up guarding yourself with them like they would do much and turned toward the sound. There he was in all his glory. Standing in his orange brown suit. With his clean shaven face and pretty glasses. "How are you feeling?" He says as he sits at the edge of the bed. "Alright?" You say weary. "You had quite a fall' he replies back almost like he knew you were suspicious. "Fall?" "Yeah, you were walking down the stairs with too many things in your hands. You couldn't see. You tripped and fell down the stairs. Hit your head pretty hard and then pass out." You immediately felt a pain rush to your head. It was a false pain he had caused to make his lie seem real. Then false memories came in. You walk with a pile of clothes to take to wash, tripped, and tumbled all the way down. Then all of the other memories of who this man was came flooding forward. Just enough to not make you suspicious. "Henry?" "Yeah sweetheart?" "My head still kinda hurts" "It will for a while darlin. Stay in bed all day while I go out." And even though you feel as if you've just met this man but not you don't want him to leave. "Wait where are you going?" You say reaching for his hand. "Today I am just going to get you groceries since I will be out all day tomorrow. I won't be long" he says kisses your hand and leaving. You lay down and end up passing out for the entire day.
The next day you wake up more aware, alert. Your head doesn't even hurt anymore. You get up still wearing the same slip as yesterday. You walk down the stairs holding the railing as to be more careful this time. You walk towards the kitchen and begin to smell the best smell ever. When you walk in Henry is flipping pancakes on the stove as holly is sitting on the island eating. "Good morning love" he says plating some pancakes for you. "Morning what's all this?" "Oh just wanted to make you breakfast before I leave for the day." You give him a weary look, like you are not ready to be left away from him. "Its okay Holly is staying with you. Right holly?" He looks at the small girl who smiles and nods her head as she has food in her mouth and can't talk. "Good, now I have to leave to go to work and go do things. But I will be back later and with the others" "others?" "Yes sweetheart remember. You are here to look after the kids and keep the house clean. I have to go get the other kids but for now you and Holly get the whole house to yourselves" Holly immediately breaks out in a smile. So do you, granted if you in your right state of mind you would be seeing all the red flags right now. He leaves with a kiss of your cheek and a wave out the door.
You sit at the island next to Holly. You begin to eat in silence. Holly perks up once finishing her food and putting the plate away. "I'm gonna go play dress up, you can come once you're done if you want" You smile at the young girl "yeah let me finish eating" She nods her head and leaves. You sit and eat silently. Mostly because you have this strange feeling you can't shake. Like you don't belong where you are. Despite how much of a dream life it is for you. It still feels off.
You spent the whole day playing with Holly. Doing whatever she wanted. You played dressed up, baked a cake, and danced to the music she played on her new radio. You decided that you needed to make dinner. Taking whatever groceries were got yesterday and making something before Henry came home. It was quiet in the house nothing but the shuffling of pans and cutting of food. Right before you finished you heard the front door open. Then you heard kids running and screaming. They all showed up in the kitchen then Henry shortly after.
"Hello love" he said coming up to you and kissing your cheek. "Hi" you replied. "Who are these kids?" "They are kids I'm helping. Remember I told you I was gonna help save them" You sat there for a minute thinking before smiling "Oh yeah" He smiles back "Well more the merrier" you said while plating food for all the kids. There was 6 of you now. You, Henry, Holly, and 3 new kids. After dinner you put the kids in their respective rooms Henry had for them. Giving them all the maternal love you could.
You walked back to your room and walked in locking the door after entering. Henry was sitting on the edge of the bed in just his sleeping pants. He doesn't turn towards you but he knows you're there. "You did well today" he says in a low voice. "Thank you" you blush and walk past him to the closet. He watched you take a slip dress out of the closet and walk to the bathroom. The bathroom is filled with every skincare product you could want. Things for an everything shower and perfumes galore. You take an everything shower and then put on the pretty slip. Brush your hair and put on night creams. You slather yourself in lotion and spray perfume in all the right places. You walk out and he's still at the edge of the bed
"you're wonderful you know that" he says lowly "stop" you say trying to cover your face. "I simply won't." He says grabbing you by the waist. "You are beautiful beyond anything" kissing your stomach. "And you are sweet and kind" he says again kissing your hands. "You are everything" he says getting up and kissing your neck. He turns you around and lays you down. "And I am so thankful for you staying with me" he kisses your lips slowly. You might have a funny feeling about all of this but his lips of yours are enough of a distraction for now.
He pulls away just to stare at you under him. He pushes a piece of hair out of your face and kisses you again. He climbs on top of you more. Pulling your leg up so it sits on top of his waist. Grabbing at your waist to encourage you to grind against him as he kisses you with so much passion. "Henry wait" you say breathless. He backs away "what?" Slightly annoyed but trying to hide it. "There are other people in the house we can't" you say while still pushing against him. "Oh sweetheart, you say no but the rest of you is saying yes." He kisses you again "Don't worry, no one is going to come by" "yeah well what about the noise" "well then maybe you should try and watch how loud you get" he says kissing your neck. "Henry" you repeat hushed. "Shhh baby, gotta be quiet remember." You close your mouth tight and nod. "Good girl" he whispers back
Hi !! I really love your writing and I hope you are doing well♡
Can i request vecna × reader in which reader is someone from vecna's past maybe someone henry was close to and cherished alot but lost contact with her when he was taken in by Brenner and Eleven and others find reader's photos in creel house while looking for clues and try finding her in hopes of making vecna stop vecna and reader have a heart to heart maybe or angst ending whatever you like.
Have a nice day/night!!
i hope you consider my request 😓
MasterList
Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist
Eleven's POV-
Dust clung to my boots as I stepped into what used to be the living room of the Creel House. The air was heavy and thick with memories and things better left forgotten. The floorboards groaned beneath our weight, and light filtered through the cracks in the boarded windows, turning the air to gold and gloom all at once.
“This place still gives me the creeps,” Dustin muttered, sweeping his torch around.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Lucas added. “Feels like he’s watching us.”
He was. We all knew it, even if none of us said it out loud. Vecna was somewhere out there, lurking between worlds. And every step we took felt like brushing too close to something ancient, angry, and broken.
We were searching for clues. Anything that might help us stop him.
Robin was combing through a pile of old papers near the fireplace when she froze. “Hey… guys? You need to see this.”
We crowded around as she carefully pulled out a small, dusty box wedged behind a loose brick. The lid creaked open, revealing faded photographs, yellowed letters, and a delicate silver bracelet.
“What is it?” Mike asked.
I took one of the photographs, my fingers trembling. It was black and white, but even through the age of it, I could see a young Henry Creel maybe 12 years old smiling. Beside him stood a girl, about the same age, her arm looped around his, laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world.
She was beautiful.
“Who’s that?” Dustin asked.
Will leaned closer. “There’s writing on the back.”
I turned it over. In looping handwriting, it said:
Henry and Y/N - Summer 1958
“Y/N…” I murmured.
“She looks happy,” Robin said softly. “He looks… different.”
Lucas frowned. “Different how?”
“Human,” she replied.
That word lingered in the air like a ghost.
We looked through the other photographs more of Henry and Y/N. Sitting beneath a tree. Reading together. Him playing the piano while she leaned against the edge, smiling up at him.
There were letters, too. Folded, stained, filled with careful script: talk of dreams, books, music, stars.
He loved her. Even I could see that.
“Guys,” I said slowly, an idea forming in my chest, “what if she’s still alive?”
Dustin blinked. “Wait you think we can find her?”
“If she knew Henry before he became… Vecna,” I said, “then maybe she can reach him. Make him stop.”
Robin nodded, eyes wide. “It’s worth a shot. Because honestly? We’re running out of options.”
Finding her wasn’t easy.
But Hopper had friends at the police station, and with the name and old address from one of the letters, we traced Y/N down to a quiet town two hours away.
We arrived at a small cottage surrounded by tall trees, the kind of place that looked untouched by time. The garden was overgrown, but flowers still bloomed wild and beautiful.
I felt a strange nervousness settle in my stomach. Meeting someone from his past felt dangerous. Sacred, almost.
When the door opened, a woman in her late 30's stood before us. Her eyes kind but sharp. She looked at us with quiet confusion.
“Yes?” she asked softly.
“Are you Y/N?” I asked.
She hesitated. “I am. Who’s asking?”
I took a deep breath. “My name’s Eleven. We’re… friends of someone you used to know. Henry Creel.”
The world seemed to still.
Her face went pale, her breath catching. “Henry?”
The others stayed quiet, letting me explain. I told her about Hawkins, about Vecna, about what he had become. About how we thought hoped she might be the one person who could still reach him.
By the time I finished, tears had gathered in her eyes.
“Henry,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I thought he was dead.”
“He’s not,” I said softly. “But he’s lost. And I think you might be the only one who can help him remember who he was.”
She was silent for a long moment, staring past me at something far away a memory, maybe. Then she nodded.
“All right,” she said. “Take me to him.”
Y/N’s Pov-
The woods felt different now.
When I was young, Henry and I used to walk through them for hours, barefoot and laughing, talking about things too big for the world around us. He’d tell me about stars and time and the cruelty of people who never understood him.
And I’d listen. I always listened.
Now, as I followed Eleven and her friends into the ruins of Creel House, the same woods seemed to close in, dark and heavy. Every step felt like stepping into the past or a nightmare.
We set up near the living room, where the air crackled faintly with something I couldn’t name. Eleven stood still, eyes closed, focusing. The others hung back, whispering among themselves.
Then the temperature dropped.
A sound like a distant, distorted breath filled the space.
“Henry,” Eleven called softly. “Someone wants to see you.”
The lights flickered. My heart pounded.
And then he was there.
Not in flesh, not really but his presence filled the room. The air shimmered, and from the shadows, he emerged. Tall, thin, monstrous. His skin a twisted network of scars and roots, eyes burning red.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. The boy I had loved was gone.
But when he looked at me like really looked at me something flickered behind those eyes. Recognition.
“Y/N,” he rasped, voice low and hollow.
I swallowed hard. “Hello, Henry.”
The others tensed, but he didn’t attack. Didn’t move. He just… stared.
“I thought you were dead,” I whispered.
He tilted his head, the faintest trace of sorrow in his voice. “You should have let me be.”
“I couldn’t,” I said. “You don’t have to be this, Henry. You don’t have to keep hurting people.”
He laughed, though it sounded more like a broken sigh. “It’s too late for that.”
“No,” I said firmly. “It’s not.” I took a step forward, ignoring Eleven’s warning look. “I’ve seen what you became, but I remember who you were. The boy who used to read to me under the oak tree. The boy who said the world was cruel but wanted to make it better. You were kind once.”
His gaze flickered confusion, pain, something human surfacing beneath the monster’s mask.
“That boy died a long time ago,” he murmured.
“Then let me remind you,” I said, tears blurring my vision. “You used to believe people could change. You used to hope. And I know that part of you is still there, somewhere.”
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then he took a step closer, and the air thickened with power. I could feel it pressing against me, cold and suffocating yet it didn’t frighten me.
He stopped just a few feet away. His hand lifted slightly, trembling.
“I missed you,” he said softly.
The words broke something inside me.
“I missed you too.”
He looked down, as though ashamed. “When Brenner took me, I thought about you. For years. You were the only thing that made sense. But then the world it showed me what I truly was.”
“You’re not a monster,” I said. “You were made into one.”
He laughed bitterly. “And yet here I stand.”
I stepped closer, reaching out. “You can still stop this, Henry. Please.”
His eyes softened just for a moment. Then his expression darkened again, torn between rage and sorrow.
“They’ll never let me go,” he said. “They’ll never understand.”
“I do,” I whispered. “I always have.”
He stared at me then, long and hard. And for the first time since he’d appeared, the red faded slightly from his eyes not gone, but dimmed, as if something deep inside him was fighting to resurface.
“Y/N…” His voice cracked. “I don’t know how.”
“Start by remembering who you were,” I said. “Who we were.”
He closed his eyes, and the entire house seemed to tremble. For a moment, I thought the walls would collapse but then the pressure eased.
When he opened his eyes again, there were tears... real tears slipping down the hollowed grooves of his face.
“I loved you,” he said quietly. “More than anything.”
My throat tightened. “Then let that love be enough to stop you.”
He looked at me for a long time. Then slowly, painfully he nodded.
The air shifted, lighter somehow.
“I can’t undo what’s been done,” he murmured. “But maybe I can… stop it spreading.”
“Henry”
“Go,” he interrupted softly. “Before I lose control again.”
“Please come with us,” I begged.
He smiled faintly sad, fragile. “You were the best part of me, Y/N. And I am not that boy anymore.”
And then, like mist in sunlight, he faded.
The lights steadied. The air warmed. And I was left standing in the middle of the ruined house, tears streaming down my face.
Eleven came to my side, her small hand finding mine. “You did it,” she whispered. “You reached him.”
I shook my head, swallowing the ache in my throat. “I don’t know if I did. But for a moment… I think Henry remembered who he was.”
Outside, the wind rustled through the trees gentle, almost like a sigh.
Maybe it was just my imagination.
Or maybe, somewhere in the dark, the boy I once loved was still listening.
SUMMARY: Anon requested: May I request a Peter Ballard fic in like a college AU setting where reader meets him through classes and gets flustered/ shy whenever he’s around because they’re crushing harddd
NOTE: a million thank you’s for your request!! and as many apologies for the long wait.
Undeniably, Peter Ballard is beautiful. What is more striking than the twin skies of his eyes? Can anything dare to compare to the grace of his figure—the junction of his jaw and his neck? But it was not the apparent idyllically of his loveliness that wrapped around your throat like a noose.
By chance, in an amazingly serendipitous twist of fate, he sat in the aisle seat to your right during your first lecture of the semester, trapping you between him and a boy with the unfortunate personality of a side character. It is one of those classes that everyone drags their feet to, those early in the morning ones that people are stuck in only because it’s a required class and the block was the only one still open for enrollment.
Yet, on that first morning, Peter acted as though he had signed up for the eight-in-the-morning class willingly. And God was he intelligent. Simultaneously he demonstrated his wit and the kind of cunning that directly opposed its negative connotation.
Let it be known, too, that Peter Ballard is a gentleman in a society where chivalry has been swept beneath a vintage rug.
Politely, he had greeted you as he slid into his chair; and, as more students filed into the lecture hall, you made small talk. He was quietly confident. Then, you made him smile and it was like you were having a conversation with the sun.
Peter’s celestial features are always on display, but noticing them is purely surface-level. Beneath his gilded hair and his smart cardigans is a personality that ensnared you only by existing. It was that night, as you let the day’s events play like a repeating reel in your head while you smiled like a fool, that you realised you were utterly screwed.
Two days later you are sitting in the campus cafe circled by a rapidly cooling coffee, several loose sheets of paper, and the book you are halfway through annotating. He steps through the breezeway and it is like you can sense his presence without looking and immediately your attention has been pulled away from your work. It is silly, you think, to be so involved with a boy you just met. It feels as though the room has warmed by degrees.
You are trying to force yourself to read when Peter approaches you with something warm- and cosy-smelling in his hand. Instantaneously, your nerves alight as you attempt to think of what to say.
“It’s a good book,” he says first, nodding to the novel before you. Its pages are covered with your scribbles and miscellaneous highlights. “I read it for a course last year.”
You wring your hands below the table, twisting your rings around your fingers. A moment passes before you can find your voice, but he lets the time run by with grace.
“It is.” You nod. “I’d love to compare notes when I finish.”
You exchange grins.
“May I sit?” he asks.
A fifteen minute discussion of your book turns into a bashful trade of numbers and for the next week you shyly smile everytime you run into Peter on campus. Those passing moments when you cross each other on the quad and when he holds the door for you out of the building. It is as though you are the tides, influencing each other’s motions, pulling the other towards you every chance you get.
In class you stutter when he leans closer to whisper a chide at the professor in your ear. Your ears flush when he chuckles at such a close proximity that you can smell the mint on his breath. You are sort of awkward around this gorgeous man; you cannot find your silver tongue as quickly as he recalls his repartee. He is suave, but you have what the general population lacks: genuineness. Despite your nervousness he sticks around. For reasons you cannot name, he actively seeks out your company as enthusiastically as you yearn for his.
I just had a really intense adrenaline induced chase lucid dream ft.Peter/001/Venca vs Mads!Hannibal Lecter and Old Man Michael Myers tag teaming to protect me?
So I was in this very huge spacious mall(like early 2000s!)with white titles and walls(Eerie like back rooms but also casual?)with like twenty levels and I was on the run because Peter/001 was chasing after and hunting me down throughout the whole damn mall!and oml he was on a other level!and not only that he was using his powers to manipulate people’s minds quickly like a puppet master and getting them to listen and bend to his way asking them all to search and scout me out cause he wanted me……to be his completely for eternity and get me pregnant!?but then Hannibal appeared right next to me seeing as I fell on the floor accidentally and scared,sweating and ears ringing but came back to reality as he helped me get back up and soon as he said in his calm therapist tone he was gonna help me get out this mall and risk his own life for me!(he real valid for that!)and knew all the secret ways out the huge twenty layered like mall but to shush and trust him so I did,he and I went hand in hand as quickly and quietly went through the actual back rooms and past the narrow hallway to the exit into the underground parking of the mall Boom!the door flew forcibly right against the wall causing it to crack and Thud!I turn my head around quickly and see Hannibal on the floor,groaning in agony with his hands holding on to his bleeding stomach and see Peter at the very front with that dark intense look holding him down with one lifted hand and crushing his internal organs inside out knowing one of his human puppets of Peter already knew Hannibal and sold his location,plan to help and protect and get me out but as he was too focus on killing him he then shouted and cried out with his last breath to run for my life live and be safe dear,sprinted so fast before he even said his last words echoing through the underground parking spaces and I was already gone before Peter could see me in his vision knowing how powerful he truly was and I kept running to the very end of the underground parking out spaces until I bumped into Michael,he already KNEW that I was getting hunted and herd about Peter and his powers and shoved and forced me quickly into the passenger seat of his car and hit the gas pedal so damn hard almost breaking it and speed out so fast and quickly not even realizing or hearing cause I was too scared and traumatized badly not even turning around to see be hide me of the crumbling of the WHOLE DAMN HUGE MALL FALL and Michael speed even more knowing it was Peter that destroyed and crushed that whole mall like nothing and Peter appeared right behind our tail of Michael’s car floating then lifted his hand up again stopping our car completely then landed of the outside of the destroyed,crumbled and burning mall and flew Michael out like a rag doll out the car throwing him on the side and Michael took the blow for me,limped body and ragged breathing on the concrete floor it looked like he was gonna’die’(that one scene of the Mob vs Michael in Halloween Kills!)So Peter bought Michael’s act of ‘dying’putting his hand up again this time slowly getting my scared and defenseless self out the passenger’s seat and pulling me towards me with his fingertip with that very heavy dark glint in his blue beautiful blood shot eyes and menacingly walking towards me as we met and came face to face as he breathed down my neck heavily then giving me that soft eerie smile(you know when he told elven”join me”yeah that look)
(Peter please never do this shit ever again🥲I WOKE UP ALL HOT,SWEATY AND LIKE WOAH LOWKEY THAT WAS HOT BUT STILL SCARY!)
HIIII I saw that you write for Jamie Campbell Bower and maybe him and the reader are married and on stranger things
Together and they are just waiting in a room together with the rest of that cast waiting to start shooting and he’s in full vecna makeup and her and reader are all lovely dovey and the cast just find it cute or funny
MasterList
Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist
I shift in my chair, trying not to laugh too loudly. It's nearly impossible when the sight before me is so absurd, so deeply, beautifully ridiculous. Jamie is sitting across from me, fully encased in Vecna makeup the kind of painstaking, horrifying artistry that could make a child scream and an adult rethink their life choices but somehow, my heart is doing somersaults anyway. His hands, red and clawed-looking, reach across the table, and his eyes thankfully not painted over meet mine. I grin, and suddenly the room of Stranger Things co-stars is collectively horrified.
“Morning, love,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly gentle considering the grotesque mask of veins, scars, and that unsettling, contorted grin plastered on his face. He leans across the space between us, brushing his clawed fingers over mine.
I can’t help it I lean in and press my lips to his.
And just like that, a low groan echoes from somewhere in the room.
“Oh, fucking hell,” I hear Joe mutter from across the room.
Charlie has his hands over his mouth, trying not to laugh and failing spectacularly. Natalia’s eyes are wide, not with horror but with the kind of fascination that makes me suspect she’s mentally taking notes. Maya is holding a coffee cup so tightly her knuckles are white, like she’s bracing herself for a horror movie that just went wildly off-script. Finn, Millie, Sadie, Gaten, Noah, and Caleb are all collectively frozen, somewhere between awe and disgust, and I swear I can see Gaten blinking as though trying to convince himself this isn’t actually happening.
Jamie is kissing me with all the tender affection of someone who, on a normal day, would be pressing his lips to mine in the softest, gentlest way imaginable. But today, he looks like a demonic horror straight out of a nightmare. His fingers weave into mine, and I can barely contain my laughter when I feel him nuzzle my temple.
“You do realise,” Charlie finally blurts, “that he’s supposed to be terrifying? And you’re… not?”
I laugh, resting my forehead against Jamie’s. “I mean… look at him,” I whisper. “He’s trying his hardest. But he’s still my Jamie.”
Jamie’s claws curl slightly around my hand. “My Y/N,” he murmurs, voice muffled slightly through the prosthetics. “The only thing terrifying here is how much I’ve missed you this morning.”
Natalia finally snorts, the sound startlingly loud. “Missed you? Mate, you look like a horror prop from a haunted house. And she’s kissing you!”
“Exactly,” I say, shrugging as Jamie leans closer. “And yet somehow… you're still very nice. Isn’t that confusing?”
Joe groans audibly. “This is illegal in some countries,” he mutters.
Jamie tilts his head, a grotesque, unnatural movement that makes me giggle. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks softly, voice uncomfortably sweet, utterly at odds with the twisted, veiny mask covering his face.
I shake my head. “Not even slightly. Keep being horrible, love.”
Finn finally finds his words, pointing a shaky finger in our direction. “Guys… This is so meta...he’s Vecna. He’s supposed to be killing people in the Upside Down and yet you’re… making out.”
I glance around the room, taking a mental snapshot of the chaos. Millie is trying not to squirm. Sadie looks mildly traumatised. Gaten’s eyes are wide like he’s caught in a car crash he can’t look away from. Noah’s half-hidden behind a script, muttering something that might be a prayer. Caleb is doing that thing where he slowly leans back in his chair, distancing himself from what is undeniably the most disturbing display of affection in history.
I snort. “Guys, you’re all acting like this is the first time you’ve seen Jamie touch someone lovingly.”
“No,” Joe says, deadpan. “But it’s the first time we've seen Vecna kissing someone. It’s… deeply wrong. And also, amazing.”
I laugh, brushing my thumb over Jamie’s clawed knuckles. “See? Amazing. But wrong. That’s a good summary.”
Jamie leans in again, his forehead pressing to mine. “Wrong, maybe. But necessary,” he whispers. His lips press to mine lightly, and somehow, against all laws of nature and horror make-up, it’s soft, familiar, entirely Jamie.
I can’t stop grinning. “You look ridiculous,” I murmur.
“And you look adorable,” he counters. “Even with everyone staring like we’re lunatics.”
Charlie bursts out laughing. “You guys are! Completely!”
I lean in again to kiss him. “100% lunatics.”
Natalia finally groans. “I’m going to need therapy after this,” she mutters, waving her hands in front of her face.
Finn finally blurts out, pointing at Jamie’s face. “I can’t unsee this. I might have nightmares. And she’s just… totally fine.”
I shrug, tilting my head against Jamie. “This is love, mate. Complicated, terrifying, and deeply inappropriate for the rest of the world.”
Millie shoves her chair back slightly. “I need water. I might faint.”
Sadie mutters, “I think I need a lie down.”
Jamie leans over, brushing his cheek against mine. “Are you sure you don’t want to scare the whole crew?” he asks mischievously.
Hi! Can you please do prompt 2 with Henry Creel x NB!Reader? Reader could be another orderly working with Henry, and they’d get jealous bc Henry’s talking to other co-workers (or potentially an admirer of his?). Thank you! <3
MasterList
Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist
The Lab never truly slept, even when the halls were quiet and the overhead lights hummed like a faint reminder that the world outside didn’t exist here. I liked it that way. The silence suited me calm, orderly, predictable. Mostly. That was before Henry started walking these corridors.
I’d worked here for nearly six months, moving patients, filing reports, and following instructions to the letter. I liked my routine. I liked the predictability. And then there was Henry, who had a way of bending the rules without even seeming to try, of commanding attention just by existing. I tried to ignore it. Really, I did. But every time he smiled oh, that infuriating smile I felt my stomach flip like some childish crush. And today, it was worse than ever.
I was carrying a stack of files from the records office back to the main ward when I spotted him. He was leaning against the wall near the elevators, chatting and laughing with Claire, one of the newer orderlies. I froze. Not because he was talking to her no, that wasn’t it but because of the way he laughed. That cocky, confident laugh, like the world belonged to him, like he knew something no one else did.
I averted my eyes, keeping my head down, trying to ignore the heat rising in my chest. Pretending to be busy, I muttered under my breath, “Just keep walking. Don’t look. Don’t look.”
Of course, I looked anyway.
He noticed. Naturally.
“Y/n,” he drawled, blue eyes lifting to meet mine, that half-smile playing on his lips. “You look… distracted.”
“Not distracted,” I said quickly, gripping the files a little tighter than necessary. “Just… focused.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, tilting his head. “Focused on me, I suppose?”
I nearly dropped the files as Claire walked away. “I am not focused on you!”
His grin widened, and I felt my cheeks heat up. “Oh, really? Because it looks like you’re glaring at me while I flirt with someone else.”
I whirled around, ready to fire back, but he was already moving toward me, slow, confident, as if he could predict exactly how I would react. “I’m not...”
“You’re jealous,” he interrupted, voice low, teasing. “And may I add, you’re a terrible liar.”
I froze. His words were sharp, deliberate, but beneath them… there was amusement. God, he always made it sound like a game I could never win.
“I am not jealous!” I snapped, though the flush creeping up my neck betrayed me far better than words ever could.
He smirked knowingly, tilting his head. “Really? Because your cheeks say otherwise. Come on, admit it.”
I swallowed, unable to lie any longer. “…Okay. Maybe I am.”
I tried to push past him, but he stepped into my path, eyes glinting with that infuriating, cocky confidence. “You know,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face, “you can’t hide anything from me. Not even jealousy.”
My hands were trembling, and I hated myself for it. He noticed, of course. “See? That,” he said, pressing a finger under my chin and lifting my gaze to meet his, “that is exactly why you’re so easy to read.”
“I’m not easy to read,” I muttered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
“Mm-hmm,” he said, smirking. “We’ll see about that.”
And just like that, we were off. Sneaking down side corridors, ducking behind storage crates, and pressing against cold walls to steal moments that were forbidden. Fraternising between staff especially someone like Henry was strictly off-limits. And yet, there was this thrill in breaking the rules, in the secrecy, in the way his hand would find mine when no one was watching.
He pressed me against a wall near the maintenance rooms, blue eyes locking onto mine. “You know,” he whispered, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know,” I whispered back, breathless. “And yet, here we are.”
“Exactly,” he murmured, leaning so close that I could feel his lips brushing my ear. “And I have to say… I like it.”
I shivered. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe,” he said, lips brushing my cheek now, “but you love it.”
I tried to scowl, tried to act annoyed, but my hands were on his chest, tugging him closer despite myself. And he responded, sliding his arms around me and capturing me in a way that made the world outside the lab corridors disappear entirely.
We stayed like that for a while, stealing kisses, hands brushing, laughter bubbling up between us in spite of the rules. Every glance over the shoulder, every quiet whisper, made it feel like the world outside the lab didn’t exist.
“You know,” he said finally, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against mine again, “you’re mine, Y/n. And don’t even try to deny it.”
“I” I started, but he pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me with that maddening confidence.
“No arguments,” he said. “Just… follow me.”
We moved again, winding through corridors, ducking into storage closets, laughing quietly whenever someone nearly saw us. It was ridiculous, it was dangerous, and it was exhilarating. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive, so… awake, in the cold, sterile halls of Hawkins Lab.
Eventually, we found ourselves near the staff lounge, a place we’d never dared before. He leaned against the counter, pulling me close again, his grin teasing and triumphant. “So,” he said, voice low and intimate, “what now, jealous girl?”
“I… don’t know,” I admitted honestly, the truth escaping my lips despite myself. “I’m… scared. And I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“And yet,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple, “here we are. And you wouldn’t change it for the world, would you?”
I couldn’t answer. Because he was right. I wouldn’t.
We stayed like that for a while, arms entwined, hearts racing, until we finally had to part back to reality, back to rules, back to the world outside our stolen moments. But I knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Not by a long shot.
Henry Creel was impossible, infuriating, cocky, and maddeningly irresistible. And I was hopelessly, utterly, jealous.
(it's not perfect cause i had to skip so much extra info but will make sense if you've seen season 5 and fill in the rest yourself)
There are people you love.
And then there are people who feel like they were written into you before you ever had a say.
Henry Creel was the second kind.
We were fifteen when we met, both of us awkward and quiet in ways Hawkins didn’t know how to be gentle with. He lived in the big house on Kerley Road, the one everyone whispered about even before anything went wrong. I lived three streets over, close enough to hear the cicadas at night and far enough that the town’s judgement didn’t reach as quickly.
I found him sitting alone on the swings behind the middle school one evening, long after everyone else had gone home.
“You’re going to fall,” I told him, watching the chains creak as he leaned too far back.
He looked at me like he’d been waiting for someone to speak to him all day. “That’s the point.”
I smiled despite myself and sat beside him.
From that night on, we were inseparable.
Henry understood me in a way no one else ever did. He listened like every word mattered. Like my thoughts had weight. We talked about everything: books, music, the feeling that Hawkins was too small for people like us. He told me things he never told anyone else about the way he could feel things others couldn’t, about the anger that scared him, about how the world felt wrong somehow, like it was out of tune.
“I think I was meant for something else,” he told me once, lying beside me in the long grass, our fingers laced together.
“So was I,” I said, and he squeezed my hand like that was all the proof he needed.
We were soulmates in the purest sense no grand declarations, no promises spoken aloud. Just an unshakeable knowing. That whatever happened, we were tethered.
Until the night everything broke.
The Creel house went quiet after that. Police cars. Whispered conversations. Adults refusing to explain. Henry vanished from school without a word. I went to his house every day for a week before eventualy an officer told me he was was sick. That he’d been sent away for treatment.
I knew they were lying.
Two weeks later, a man in a grey suit came to my house.
He told me Henry had passed.
A tragic incident. Confidential circumstances. I was advised not to ask questions.
I was sixteen when I buried the love of my life without a body, without a grave, without goodbye.
Grief doesn’t leave. It just changes shape.
I married years later. A good man. A kind one. We built a life because that’s what you’re supposed to do when the world keeps turning. We had children. A house. Routine. Normalcy.
But Henry never stopped existing inside me.
Sometimes, when the house was quiet, I swore I could feel him like a memory humming just beneath my skin. Like a voice I almost remembered how to hear.
And then Hawkins started acting strange.
Disappearances. Power outages. Nightmares that bled into reality. The same dread I’d felt as a teenager crept back into the air, thick and metallic.
The night Hallie vanished, the sky was red.
She’d gone to bed clutching her stuffed rabbit, complaining about a monster. I kissed her forehead, promised pancakes in the morning.
By sunrise, her bed was empty.
The police were useless. They always were when Hawkins decided to swallow its children. Hours blurred into days. My husband tried to be strong, but I could see the fear hollowing him out.
Then Joyce Byers showed up at my door.
She looked older than I remembered. Harder. Like someone who had stared into hell and lived.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, eyes darting behind me like she expected something to follow her in. “It’s about your daughter.”
I didn’t invite her in. I couldn’t breathe long enough to remember my manners.
She told me everything.
About the Upside Down. About monsters and gates and a man who wasn’t a man anymore. About a henry who’d been taken and turned into something else entirely.
Vecna.
I laughed. Once. Hysterically.
“Henry Creel is dead,” I said. “He died when we were sixteen.”
Joyce shook her head. “No. He didn’t.”
My knees gave out.
She told me about One. About Hawkins Lab. About how Henry survived and changed and became something monstrous. About how he was taking children...our children to tear open the world.
“And Hallie?” I whispered.
Joyce’s voice broke. “He took her.”
The room spun.
Henry was alive.
Henry was evil.
Henry had taken my daughter.
I wanted to scream. To deny it. To shatter something just to prove the world was still solid. Instead, I sat there, shaking, while my entire life rearranged itself into something unrecognisable.
“He won’t listen to anyone,” Joyce said quietly. “But he might listen to you.”
I looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
“You want me to talk down a monster who lives in another dimension,” I said. “Who kills people. Who took my child.”
“He loved you,” she said simply. “And whatever he is now… that doesn’t just disappear.”
I thought of the boy on the swings. The way Henry used to look at me like I was an anchor holding him to the world. The way his hand always found mine, even in the dark.
Soulmates don’t forget each other.
They haunt.
The gate was cold.
The Upside Down smelled like rot and electricity and old storms that never ended. Every step felt wrong, like the ground resented being walked on. I followed the others who were fighters, survivors, children who had grown up too fast until the world opened into something vast and terrible.
I went with Eleven, Kali, Hopper and Murray to try and find Henry with Max in his mind.
Max realised we could get to his house though the memory of the play which brought back memories of my own I had to push back.
I was met with a room in his house.
Perfectly intact. Sunlight filtered through lace curtains, dust motes floating lazily in the air. The grandfather clock ticked steadily, each second loud enough to feel in my bones. The smell hit me all at once old wood, furniture polish, something faintly metallic underneath.
I knew immediately this wasn’t real. Not truly. This place wasn’t a location it was a memory.
Eleven stood near the centre of the living room, small fists clenched, her breathing uneven. Kali hovered close by, watchful and tense. Max was already moving, scanning corners, alert in the way only someone who’d died once could be.
And there near the table with 11 other kids was my daughter.
“Hallie,” I breathed.
She looked unharmed, confused more than afraid, eyes too old for her age. The moment she saw me, her face crumpled.
“Mum!”
I ran.
I wrapped my arms around her so tightly she squeaked, her small hands fisting into my jacket. I pressed my face into her hair, breathing her in like oxygen.
I pulled back just long enough to look at her, to cup her face in my hands, to make sure she was real. Then I turned to Max.
“Take her,” I said, voice shaking but firm. “Don’t let him near her.”
Max nodded once, no questions asked, and gently pulled Hallie into her arms. Hallie protested weakly, but I kissed her forehead, whispering, “Go. Please.”
Only then did I turn back.
Henry stood in the living room.
Young.
Whole.
He looked exactly as he had the last summer before everything went wrong dirty blonde hair neatly combed, crisp shirt tucked in, waistcoat, eyes sharp and intelligent and unreadable. Hands clasped behind his back, posture perfect.
The boy he could have been.
The boy I loved.
He didn’t see me.
His attention was entirely on Eleven, his voice calm but edged with fury as he circled her slowly.
“You were meant to understand,” he was saying. “I tried to show you what this world really is.”
Eleven shook her head. “You’re hurting people.”
“They were always hurting us.”
I stood frozen in the shadows, my heart threatening to tear itself apart as I took him in. This version of Henry which was unbroken, unscarred felt crueler somehow. A reminder of everything stolen. Everything twisted.
Then Eleven shouted his name.
“Henry!”
Something shifted.
His gaze flicked past her.
And landed on me.
For a fraction of a second he faltered.
The clock stuttered.
The house creaked.
I stepped forward.
“Hello, Henry.”
His face hardened instantly, the softness snapping back into something cold and controlled. He straightened, eyes narrowing as he slowly walked towards me, measured and deliberate, like a predator deciding whether its prey was worth the effort.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said flatly.
“I could say the same to you,” I replied, my voice trembling despite my efforts. “You’ve been gone a long time.”
“I didn’t leave,” he snapped. “I evolved.”
I swallowed hard. “You disappeared. They told me you were dead.”
His lips twitched. Not quite a smile. “And you believed them.”
“I mourned you.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and vibrating.
“You moved on,” he said, voice low. Dangerous.
“I survived,” I said again, tears burning. “I lived with a hole in my chest where you were meant to be.”
Something flickered in his eyes anger, pain, memory but he shoved it down quickly.
“You made me weak,” he said suddenly. “You were a distraction. A tether. I couldn’t reach my true potential with you pulling me back.”
My chest ached. “I loved you.”
“Yes,” he said coldly. “That was the problem.”
I shook my head, stepping closer. “You used to promise me things. You used to say we’d leave Hawkins together. That we’d build something better than this place.”
“I was wrong,” he said sharply. “This world doesn’t deserve better. It deserves to be ended.”
“You didn’t believe that,” I pleaded. “You used to sit on the roof with me and talk about music and books and God, Henry you hated cruelty. You hated bullies. You hated people who took power just because they could.”
His jaw tightened.
“Get out,” he muttered.
I didn’t move.
“This is my house,” he growled. “My mind. Get out.”
“No.”
He laughed then short, bitter. “You always were stubborn.”
I stepped right up to him, close enough to feel something like warmth radiating off his chest. “Look at yourself,” I whispered. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the boy who held my hand when the world felt too loud.”
“Stop,” he hissed.
“You’re not a god,” I said gently. “You’re Henry Creel. And you loved me.”
His breath hitched.
For a moment, his composure cracked completely.
“Get out!” he shouted, the walls shaking violently, picture frames crashing to the floor. “You don’t belong here!”
I lifted my hand and pressed it to his chest.
Right over his heart.
He froze.
The world went utterly still.
His eyes widened slightly, breath catching like he’d forgotten how to breathe at all. Under my palm, I felt it a heartbeat. Fast. Panicked.
Human.
“There you are,” I whispered.
For just a second Henry was back.
His shoulders sagged. His voice dropped, barely audible.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Tears streamed down my face. “Then don’t. Come back. Please.”
His hand twitched, lifting as if to touch mine
And then he tore himself away violently, staggering back like he’d been burned.
“Enough!” he roared, the mask snapping back into place. “This ends now.”
But his eyes betrayed him.
Because for the first time since I’d arrived Vecna was afraid.
And somewhere deep inside him, the boy who once loved me was still fighting to be heard.
For a split second after Henry recoiled from me, the house felt fragile like a set built from breath and memory alone.
Then Kali moved.
I didn’t see her lift her hand. I felt it like a pressure change in the room. The walls shimmered, the light bending, warping, and suddenly the children were no longer where Henry thought they were.
Gone.
Hidden.
Henry’s head snapped sharply towards the empty space where Hallie and the others should have been.
His fury was immediate.
“What did you do?” he snarled.
Kali didn’t answer.
Eleven did.
She shoved him.
It wasn’t a physical push almost with air but the force of it cracked the floorboards beneath his feet, sending him stumbling backwards into the piano. The sound reverberated like a gunshot.
“Now!” Max yelled.
We ran.
The house twisted around us as we tore through the hallway, doors slamming open and shut of their own accord, memories bleeding into one another rooms I remembered from my teenage years colliding with ones that had never existed at all.
“Follow me!” Max shouted, already sprinting ahead.
The cave entrance loomed up out of nowhere, jagged and dark, carved into the memory like a wound. The ground shook violently beneath our feet.
Henry roared behind us.
The sound was no longer human.
Derek faltered.
He was closest to the cave after Max, his breathing panicked, his legs shaking as the roar echoed again.
“Derek!” I shouted. “Keep going!”
He froze.
I skidded to a stop, spinning back towards him. “Hey look at me,” I said desperately, grabbing his shoulders. “You’re almost there. You’re doing so well, alright? Just a few more steps.”
“I I can’t,” he breathed heavily.
“You can,” I said fiercely. “You are. Run to Max. She won’t let anything hurt you.”
Behind us, Henry screamed.
“Go!” I yelled to the others. “All of you go!”
Eleven hesitated, eyes wide with terror.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I promised.
I shoved Derek forward, forcing his legs to move. He stumbled, then ran, disappearing into the mouth of the cave just as the ground moved beneath my feet making me fall.
I turned but it was too late.
Hands wrapped around my ankles.
Cold. Unforgiving.
Henry yanked me backwards with brutal force, my scream tearing free as my nails scraped uselessly against the ground. The world blurred, the cave slipping further and further away.
“Let her go!” Eleven screamed.
Max ran back towards me and then everything shattered.
A gunshot and banging
A blinding pain tore through my head as the world collapsed inward, the memory dissolving like smoke. I felt myself ripped violently away, my grip on reality severed.
Someone was screaming.
It took me a second to realise it was me.
We slammed back into our bodies hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. The real world rushed in wet earth, blood, smoke.
Jim Hopper stood frozen, gun still raised.
“I...” he started. “I didn’t mean to...”
Eleven was already pushing herself up, fury blazing in her eyes.
“No time,” she said. “We have to go. Now.”
The Abyss above us Eleven helping us get there.
The Mind Flayer loomed before us in its full, horrific scale ribs of bone and shadow arching high above, pulsing like a living thing. The air was thick, the ground sandy beneath our feet.
Demogorgons screeched.
Bats filled the sky.
Dogs lunged from the dark.
The others already spread out drawing the creatures away, shouting, firing, doing whatever they could to pull attention from the centre.
From him.
Eleven and I ran straight into the ribcage.
And there he was.
Vecna.
Towering. Twisted. Monstrous.
Nothing like the boy I loved except in the eyes.
Those same sharp, haunted eyes.
Eleven attacked first.
The fight was brutal raw power slamming against raw rage, the ground cracking and folding under their blows. I was thrown back against bone, pain exploding through my shoulder as shockwaves tore through the air.
Then Vecna turned.
And grabbed me.
His hand closed around my throat, lifting me effortlessly from the ground.
“Stop,” he commanded Eleven. “Or she dies.”
Eleven froze, terror ripping across her face.
His grip tightened then faltered.
I felt it.
The hesitation.
His hand trembled, claws digging into my skin but not breaking it.
He couldn’t do it.
“You can’t,” I whispered hoarsely, tears streaming. “You won’t.”
His face twisted, a sound tearing from his chest half roar, half sob.
“Get out of my head,” he growled.
“You don’t want this,” I said. “You never did. You wanted freedom not control. Not this thing.”
I saw it then the fracture.
Henry was close. So close.
“Eleven!” I gasped. “He’s still here. We need to pull him out separate him.”
Before either of us could move Will screamed.
Light erupted behind Vecna as Will Byers stepped forward, eyes white his hand outstretched.
“I can feel you,” Will said, voice shaking but strong. “You’re not him. You never were.”
Something tore.
Flesh and identity.
Vecna screamed as Henry was ripped free, the monstrous form collapsing in on itself as the Mind Flayer shrieked in fury.
Henry fell.
Human.
Broken but alive.
I hit the ground hard as his grip vanished, crawling towards him without thinking, my hands finding his face as he gasped for air.
“Henry,” I sobbed.
His eyes fluttered open black ash escaping his via his mouth.
And for the first time in decades he saw me.
Fully.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
The Abyss roared around us as Eleven, Will and Kali pulled the heart from the mind flayer out killing the whole hive mind.
The scream that tore through the Abyss wasn’t Henry’s.
It was Will’s.
He collapsed to the ground hard, clutching his chest, his body convulsing as black veins spidered up his neck. The moment the Mind Flayer died, something inside him began to tear itself loose.
“Will!” Joyce screamed, dropping to her knees beside him. “No. No, please"
The demogorgons didn’t roar anymore.
They fell.
One by one, the creatures connected to the hive mind shrieked and disintegrated, their bodies collapsing into ash mid-movement. The bats dropped from the air like burned paper. The dogs crumpled, twitching, then lay still.
The hive mind was dying.
And it was taking Will with it.
Henry staggered upright beside me, breathing hard, his face pale with dawning horror.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “He doesn’t have to.”
Eleven turned to him sharply. “What?”
He swallowed. “The hive mind it threads itself through hosts like roots. When it dies, it rips them apart trying to hold on.” His eyes locked onto Will. “But you can pull it out.”
Eleven hesitated. “I already tried once...”
“Not like this,” Henry interrupted. “Now it’s weak. Now it’s exposed. You have to extract it, not fight it.”
Joyce looked up at him, eyes wild. “If you’re lying...”
“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Please. If you don’t, he won’t survive this.”
Eleven knelt beside Will, her hands shaking as she reached out.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”
Will gagged violently as thick, black ash poured from his mouth, curling into the air like smoke being dragged backward. His body arched, a strangled cry ripping from his throat as Eleven screamed with effort.
Then suddenly it was gone.
Will collapsed, chest heaving, eyes fluttering as he sucked in a breath like he’d just been pulled from underwater.
Joyce sobbed, crushing him to her chest.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God, you’re here. You’re here.”
I didn’t realise I was crying until my hands were shaking.
The kids.
I turned, panic surging back through me, and saw them still suspended strapped into the remains of the Mind Flayer’s ribcage, unconscious but alive.
“Get them down,” Eleven said quickly. “Carefully.”
We worked fast, adrenaline carrying us as one by one the children were freed. The moment Hallie was lowered to the ground, I ran.
I fell to my knees, gathering her into my arms, sobbing into her hair as she stirred the same black ash leaving her too.
“Mum?” she murmured.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered, kissing her over and over. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”
Behind me, I felt the shift in the air before I heard it.
Joyce.
She lunged.
Her hands slammed into Henry’s chest, driving him hard into the dead husk of the Mind Flayer, rage pouring off her in waves.
“You did this,” she hissed. “You took my son. You took all of them.”
Henry didn’t fight back.
He didn’t even raise his hands.
“I know,” he said quietly.
Joyce pulled a knife.
“Joyce stop!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet.
Will stirred weakly. “Mum… please.”
I moved between them without thinking, heart hammering.
“He wasn’t in control,” I said desperately. “Not really. The Mind Flayer used him it overtook him. like it did Will.”
Joyce’s hand shook.
“He killed people,” she said through clenched teeth.
“And it nearly killed him too,” I replied. “But it’s gone now. It left him. He’s just Henry.”
Silence stretched thick and awful.
Finally, Joyce stepped back.
Not forgiveness.
But restraint.
“We get the kids out,” she said coldly. “Then we leave.”
The Abyss began to tremble.
The charges detonated above us, the world cracking open as fire raced through the Upside Down. The bridge began to collapse behind us as we ran, carrying children, shouting names, clinging to one another.
We made it out just as the ground split apart.
The Upside Down burned.
As the last explosion tore through the abyss, Henry slowed.
“Wait,” he said.
I turned.
Smoke and fire framed him, ash swirling around his figure as the world fell apart behind us.
“Are you happy?” he asked quietly.
The question struck harder than any blow.
“With your husband,” he continued softly. “With your life.”
I stared at him for a long time.
“I love my children,” I said finally. “They’re my world. And I’ve built something good.”
He nodded once. “That’s all I ever wanted for you.”
“But,” I whispered, voice breaking, “my heart broke the day you disappeared. And I don’t think it ever really healed.”
His breath caught.
“And now?” he asked.
I stepped closer.
“Now it finally feels like it’s remembering how.”
The world shook again.
He reached for me hesitant and careful.
I closed the distance.
When we kissed, it wasn’t desperate.
It was gentle.
A promise reclaimed.
As the fire swallowed the darkness behind us, Henry Creel held me like he always had like coming home.
Not in some tragic way just quietly, neatly arranged. Like one of those school timetables printed at the start of term. Same classes, same halls, same expectations. I followed it without really questioning why.
I was Jim Hopper’s twin sister.
That alone came with a reputation.
Jim was a force of nature loud, confident, already halfway to becoming the man who could stare anyone down. Teachers liked him. Students feared him. Boys wanted to be him; girls wanted him.
And me?
I was expected to shine politely beside that.
So I did.
I was a cheerleader. Blonde ponytail, bright smile, knees always bruised from practice. I laughed when I was supposed to. I dated the right boys. I stood on the right side of the room.
Which is how I ended up dating Danny Harrington.
Danny was everything Hawkins High worshipped. Quarterback. Perfect hair. Loud laugh. Cruel when it amused him. He wrapped his arm around me like I was a trophy he’d won, something to display.
And for a while, I told myself that was enough.
Until Henry Creel walked into the gym that night.
Everyone knew Henry.
Or rather everyone thought they did.
He was the boy who sat alone. The boy with the strange stare and the too-quiet voice. The one people whispered about in the halls like he might suddenly snap if you spoke too loudly near him.
Weird. Weak. Freak.
I’d heard it all.
I’d never said it.
But I’d never stopped it either.
The autumn dance was loud, sweaty, and painfully predictable. Streamers hung from the ceiling. The band played covers slightly off-key. The gym smelled like cheap cologne and punch.
Danny had his arm slung around my shoulders, laughing with his friends, already halfway drunk on attention.
Then the doors opened.
Henry stepped inside.
He wore a simple shirt sleeves rolled just slightly, blonde hair neat and styled. He hesitated at the entrance like he wasn’t sure he belonged there. Like the walls might push him back out.
I watched him scan the room.
And watched his shoulders tense when the laughter started.
Danny noticed too.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he scoffed, loud enough for his mates to hear. “What’s he doing here?”
I stiffened. “Danny, don’t.”
But he was already peeling away from me, swaggering forward with that cruel confidence that came so naturally to him.
“Hey, Creel!” he called. “Dance is invite-only, mate. Didn’t realise freak shows were on the guest list.”
Laughter rippled through the room.
Henry stopped walking.
His hands curled at his sides. He didn’t look angry just tired. Like he’d expected this and come anyway.
That hurt more than anything.
“That’s enough,” I said sharply.
Danny turned, eyebrows lifting in mock surprise. “What?”
“I said that’s enough. Leave him alone.”
The room seemed to quiet just a little.
Danny laughed. “Why are you standing up for him, huh?”
The words landed wrong. Ugly.
I felt something inside me snap not loudly, but cleanly.
“Because you’re being disgusting,” I said. “And I’m done pretending that’s attractive.”
His smile faltered. “You’re joking.”
“No,” I said calmly. “I’m breaking up with you.”
A hush fell.
Danny stared at me like I’d slapped him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” I said. “Don’t touch me again.”
I didn’t wait for his reply.
I walked straight past him past the staring faces, the whispers already forming and stopped in front of Henry.
He looked startled. Confused. Wary.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “For him. For… all of it.”
He blinked. “You don’t have to...”
“I know,” I said. “But I want to.”
He hesitated. “Is this… a joke?”
My heart cracked a little.
“No,” I promised. “I swear it’s not.”
We stood there awkwardly for a moment, music thudding behind us, the weight of a hundred eyes pressing in.
“Would you,” I asked, voice steady despite everything, “like to dance?”
Henry looked genuinely stunned.
“With… you?”
“Yes.”
“I...” He swallowed. “People will stare.”
I smiled sadly. “They already are.”
After a long beat, he nodded.
The dance was slow. Gentle. He barely touched me at first, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he held me too tightly. His hands trembled when they settled at my waist.
I rested mine on his shoulders.
“You don’t dance like someone who thinks they’re weak,” I murmured.
He huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m not very good at it.”
“I am,” I teased. “I’ll lead.”
Something in his expression softened.
“Why were you with him?” he asked quietly.
I thought about it. Really thought.
“Because it was expected,” I admitted. “Because I thought that was who I was meant to be.”
“And now?”
I glanced back at Danny, who was still staring, furious and humiliated.
“Now I think I’ve just figured out who I’m not.”
When the song ended, I leaned closer. “Want to get some air?”
Henry nodded instantly.
Outside, the night was cool and quiet. Crickets chirped. The noise from the gym faded behind us as we walked beneath the stars.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said eventually. “You made yourself a target.”
I shrugged. “I think I already was. I just didn’t realise it.”
He smiled faintly. “You’re different from what I thought.”
“What did you think?”
“That you were like them.”
“I was,” I admitted. “I just didn’t know better.”
We stopped near the bleachers. The moonlight softened his sharp features, made him look younger somehow. Vulnerable.
“I don’t belong there,” he said quietly.
I stepped closer. “You belong wherever you decide to stand.”
The air between us felt charged. Heavy. My pulse quickened.
Henry leaned in before he seemed to realise what he was doing.
Our lips brushed just barely.
He pulled back instantly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”
I kissed him.
This time, he didn’t pull away.
The kiss was gentle but sure, like he’d been holding something in for a long time. When we finally broke apart, he looked dazed.
“I’m glad you did,” I whispered.
He smiled then and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
That night, I didn’t return to the dance.
I walked home with Henry instead.
And for the first time in my life, I chose something not because I was supposed to but because it felt right.
