JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

➩ Series:

Collateral Hearts

↳ Bucky Barnes, caught in a political storm and haunted by his past as the Winter Soldier, battles internal guilt and fragmented memories while finding solace in someone who sees beyond his trauma, intensifying his struggle between seeking connection and fearing the harm he might cause.

➩ One Shots:

↳ coming soon …

CHAPTER FOUR: PROBLEM CHILD

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 1.8K

A/N: THE TENSION!! You guys better get ready for this one’s it’s a long bumpy ride! Sorry this was another filled chapter for y'all, much more to come in the next couple!! Completely worth the wait I promise!!

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The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a dull orange glow over the nearly deserted high school parking lot. The only sounds were the distant hum of the freeway and the occasional rustling of leaves in the cool evening breeze. Billy paced back and forth like a caged animal, his boots scuffing the cement, his face twisted in a scowl. "Where the hell is she?" He bellowed, the veins in his neck bulging with each word, his patience fraying like a worn-out rope.

He and Lyra had been waiting for what felt like an eternity for Max to show up. The empty spaces around them echoed the emptiness of his patience. "Would you relax?" Lyra's voice cut through his frustration with the sharpness of a knife. She reached out with a swift flick of her wrist, plucking the cigarette from between his clenched teeth and crushing it under her shoe with a satisfying crunch.

Billy's jaw clenched tighter, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "I specifically told her not to be late again," He growled, his fists balling up at his sides, ready to unleash his anger on something, anything. Lyra, unfazed by her brother's growing rage, let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. She leaned against the hood of the car, her arms folded across her chest, her expression one of bored annoyance at Billy's antics. She knew Max would show up eventually, and Billy's temper tantrum wasn't going to make her appear any faster.

Almost as if on cue, Lyra caught sight of Max's red hair skating towards them. Lyra locked eyes with her sister, a knowing look passing between them. With a subtle nod in Billy's direction, she silently communicated that he was on the verge of exploding like a ticking time bomb. Max approached the Camaro, her hand hesitating over the door handle, bracing herself for the inevitable confrontation.

"You're late again," Billy's voice boomed, reverberating through the tense air as Max neared the car. She remained calm, her voice steady as she explained, "Yeah, I had to get catch-up homework." Billy scoffed dismissively, his impatience palpable. "Jesus, I don't care. You're late again, and you're skating home. Do you hear me?" Max, unfazed by his empty threat, climbed into the backseat without a word. Lyra shot Billy the fiercest glare she could muster, determined to protect her sister.

"If she skates home, I walk with her. Understood," She threatened, throwing his own words back at him before getting into the car herself. Wanting to diffuse the tension, Lyra changed the subject. "How come you didn't dress up, Max?" She asked, noticing the multitude of middle schoolers in Halloween costumes as they left the school parking lot. Max looked at her sister as if she had sprouted two heads. "Halloween's lame."

Lyra couldn't help but retort, "Tell that to your Michael Myers mask hanging in your room." Max huffed, "I wasn't about to wear a costume to school like some nerd. Besides, it's for later." Lyra nodded, earning herself a puzzled glance from Billy. "I'm taking her trick-or-treating, then I can come meet you at that Halloween party," Billy simply shrugged, nonchalant about the change in plans.

"Fine by me." Lyra could sense the brewing storm behind his casual facade, the calm before the inevitable outburst. Within the span of a heartbeat, Billy's voice, laced with disdain, broke the short-lived peace. "God, this place is such a shit hole." He muttered under his breath, his words a toxic whisper in the confines of the car. Lyra didn't miss a beat, her response sharp as she caught the tension in Billy's jaw from the corner of her eye.

"So you've said." She retorted, challenging the negative energy he exuded with every clenched muscle. Max, jumped to the town's defense, her voice a blend of innocence and conviction. "It's not that bad," She insisted, only to be met with Billy's scornful chuckle. Billy's gaze found Max's in the rearview mirror, a challenge in his eyes as he powered down the windows with a flick of his wrist.

"You smell that, Max?" He asked, taking in a deep, mocking breath. "That's actually shit. Cow shit," He declared as if his senses were the ultimate arbiters of truth. Lyra, unimpressed by his dramatics, shook her head, refusing to play into his narrative. "I don't see any cows," Max stated, her logic unassailable in its simplicity.

Billy's retort was quick, a jab aimed at the unsuspecting high school population. "Clearly you haven't met the high school girls," He sneered. The silence that followed was a testament to Billy's inability to tolerate the absence of reaction, his need for engagement as palpable as the tension in the car. "So what, you like it here now?" He prodded Max, searching for a crack in her armor. Max's head shook, a silent ripple in the charged atmosphere.

"Then why are you defending it?" Billy pressed, unable to let the matter rest, his voice a mix of curiosity and confrontation. "Billy, drop it," Lyra warned, sensing the tension escalating. "Sure sounds like she's defending it," He persisted. Max deadpanned, "It's just that we're stuck here." Billy, quick to respond, shot back, "You're right, we're stuck here. And whose fault is that?" Lyra, trying to defuse the situation, intervened.

"Hey," She coaxed, placing a gentle hand on Billy's forearm. "It's nobody's fault. Let's think of Hawkins as a fresh start." But Billy shrugged her off, his patience wearing thin. "What did you say?" He taunted Max's words pushing him to his breaking point. "Did you say it's my fault?" He gritted. However, Max shook her head, and Lyra, hoping to redirect Billy's attention, interjected. "She didn't say anything, Billy. Let's leave it alone." But Billy's stubbornness got the better of him.

"Max," He eerily taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "You know whose fault it is, say it!" Frustrated by the silence, he impulsively stepped on the accelerator, causing both girls to jump in surprise. "Billy, slow the car down," Lyra urgently warned, but he only responded with a taunting smirk. From the backseat, Max's eyes widened as she spotted three of her classmates riding their bicycles just a few feet away. "Billy, please slow down," Max pleaded, her voice laced with anxiety.

Lyra echoed her plea, "Billy, there are kids on the road, slow down!" Reveling in his cruel game, he taunted, "Oh, these your new hick friends? I guess you won't care if I hit 'em, then. What do you say, Lyra? Do I get bonus points if I get them all in one go?" Lyra shook her head in disbelief. "No, Billy, stop! This is not funny. They're kids, for fuck's sake!" Ignoring their pleas, Billy pressed down harder on the accelerator, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of the song blaring from the stereo, completely oblivious to the danger he was causing.

Just as he was getting dangerously close to the three kids on the road, Lyra took matters into her own hands. She reached in front of Billy, grabbing the wheel and forcefully turning it in the opposite direction, away from the kids. The screeching of tires and Billy's laughter filled the air as both Lyra and Max turned in their seats, relieved to see the boys escaping Billy's wrath in the nick of time. Exhaling sharply, Lyra could feel the heat of anger radiating through her as she caught the smug, self-satisfied smirk plastered across her brother's face.

It was one of those grins that knew exactly the kind of turmoil it was stirring up inside her. "Pull the car over, now," Lyra demanded, her voice laced with a sharpness that made Max jerk in surprise. The tension in the car was a palpable force, thick and heavy. Max had seen Lyra and Billy go at it with their usual sibling quips and jests, but this... this was a whole new level of hostility. "Max, stay in the car, please." Lyra's command was firm, leaving no room for argument.

As soon as the car came to a stop and she stepped out, slamming the door with a force that echoed down the street, she rounded on Billy. "Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?" Her words were like daggers, each one thrown with precision and enough venom to let Billy know that this was no ordinary squabble. This was something deeper, and Lyra was not about to let it slide. Billy's voice was a storm of indignation, his words crackling through the air like thunder. "I was teaching that brat a lesson," He fumed, his face a mask of twisted fury.

But Lyra, with a cold, incredulous laugh, countered his rage with a sharp dose of reality. "No, this was absolutely not necessary. I get that you're upset at god knows what, but nearly running over three teen boys is not going to help you feel better!" Her voice was thick with scorn, her disbelief at his actions painting her tone. She watched his jaw clench, the muscles in his neck tense as she added fuel to the fire. "Look, I get that you're upset about moving here, but scaring the shit out of Max isn't going to help."

The words tumbled out of her mouth with a venomous edge, her frustration with the situation reaching its peak. Billy's retort was swift and sharp, a verbal lashing that cut through the tense air between them. "What the hell do you know about what's going to make me feel better?" His words were a slap in the face, and Lyra recoiled, her heart racing, her breath catching in her throat. The hurt from his words was a physical blow, leaving her feeling wounded and exposed.

For a fleeting moment, as Lyra's pained expression registered, Billy's cerulean eyes softened, the stormy sea within them calming. "Lyra—" he began, his voice a tentative whisper against the howling wind of their argument. With a raised hand and a shaky breath, she silenced him. "Just get us home," Her voice a mere echo of her usual strength. And with that, she turned away, leaving the words unspoken and the air still charged with the remnants of their clash.

Billy's heart sank as he watched Lyra get back into his car, her retreating figure a painful reminder of the damage he had caused. Deep down, he knew he had gone too far, but his stubbornness held him back from offering an apology. As they made their way back home, the silence weighed heavily upon them. Billy's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, regret mingling with his stubborn pride. He wanted to make things right, to mend the fractures in his and Lyra's relationship, but the words caught in his throat, trapped by his own stubbornness.

CHAPTER ONE: NEW NEIGHBORS, NEW NIGHTMARES

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 1.9K

A/N: i told myself I wasn't going to write another story yet here we are!this series has been in the works for a VERY long time, I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I loved writing it! beautiful divider by @dreamland-gallery <3

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HAWKINS 1984

“This place is such a complete shit hole!” Billy Hargrove huffed throwing himself down onto Lyra's bed completely disregarding the clothes that lay neatly organized on top of it. "Not even three seconds of being here and you're already complaining." Rolling her eyes, she shoved her brother who completely disregarded her.

"Quit pouting," To which Billy rolled his eyes. "Just sucks that we have to go to school tomorrow, figure we'd have a few days to adjust." Lyra thought aloud all while trying to redecorate her new room. "Neil doesn't care about that. Or that he completely flipped our lives upside down." Lyra shrugged.

"Max and Susan aren't that bad," She defended. "Besides, I think It's nice to have a little sister." She smiled organizing her cassettes. "I have to disagree." Billy muttered under his breath smirking, which ultimately earned him a pillow being thrown in his direction.

"Shithead." Just as Billy was going to retaliate there was a knock on Lyra's door. "This place sucks." Max muttered sitting on the chair on the opposite side of the room. "At least you two have that in common." Lyra smiled, pointing between Max and Billy who were already glaring at one another.

"You can't tell me you like it here?" Lyra shrugged. "I haven't really decided, but I know that I will not miss California's beaches." She shuddered. "Plenty of beaches here if you ask me." Billy sassed directing the statement towards his step sister who in turn flipped him off.

"Both of you, play nice." Neither of them said anything, instead occupying themselves with Lyra's surrounding items. Max reached for a snow globe on the nightstand, turning it over in her hands, watching the faux snowflakes settle over the miniature cityscape of Seattle inside. Billy fiddled with a stack of vinyl records, flipping through them without really seeing the covers.

Both their movements deliberate, a silent barrier in the already stifling room. The tension was a palpable entity, squeezing the space between them with invisible, yet forceful, hands. Neither dared to breach the silence, each moment stretching into eternity, filled only with the quiet shuffle of objects and the loud unspoken words that refused to surface.

Lyra looked between her sister and the obvious grimace on Billy's face and decided to break the awkward and rather suffocating tension. "You know what," She spoke gathering Max and Billy's attention. "I don't know about you two, but I'm starving." She emphasized her point with a hand on her stomach. "I saw a diner a couple of miles from here."

Lyra immediately nodded agreeing to Max's suggestion quickly discarding the pile of clothes that lay unsorted in the corner of her closet. Before Billy could refuse, shutting down the redhead's idea Lyra was quick to grab his wrist trying and inevitably failing to haul him off her bed. "Come on, I'll even buy you a milkshake." Lyra pouted tugging harder on Billy's forearm.

Almost as if contemplating his options Billy held Lyra's gaze, his face void of any emotions which made the blonde exaggerate the pout that decorated her face. She let out a triumphant cheer fist-bumping Max. "Can I drive?" Billy couldn't help but snort at his sister's question. "Nice try." He scoffed.

"You can only win one battle with him." Lyra muttered, swinging her arm around Max's shoulders as they followed after Billy. "Where do you three think you're going." The booming voice of Neil Hargrove questioned, which made a shiver run down all three teenager's spines. "Heading out to a diner Max pointed out on the way here." Lyra explained with an exaggerated sweet smile and added a cheery tone to her voice.

"Have fun girls," Susan Mayfield nodded approvingly. "Your sisters' will be in the car, don't you dare drive like a maniac," Neil's venomous eyes bore into Billy's. "Understood." He spat sternly in order to get his point across. "Yes sir." Billy responded curtly. "We'll be back later." Lyra's sugary voice cut in, quickly opening the front door and ushering Max and Billy through before waving at her father and stepmother.

"You can have shotgun." Max muttered as Billy unlocked his Chevrolet Camaro. As the car roared to life, Lyra nodded appreciatively at the AC/DC tape that blasted through the speakers. "Don't forget you owe me that milkshake." Billy declared, pulling out of the driveway. "A promise is a promise." She winked, grinning widely at the small smile that threatened to break out on her brother's lips. Lyra took that as another win. 

Benny's Burgers was completely swamped for a Sunday afternoon. The neon sign buzzed and flickered, casting a warm glow on the chrome exterior of the diner. As the door swung open, a bell chimed, and the scent of sizzling burgers and fries wafted out. Inside, the black and white checkered floor gleamed under the fluorescent lights, reflecting the red vinyl booths that lined the walls.

Each table was adorned with a mini jukebox, the selections filled with the hits of the decade—synth-pop, rock, and new wave tunes that would occasionally burst into life when a patron dropped a coin. Waitresses in pastel uniforms and white aprons glided across the floor, balancing trays laden with milkshakes topped with whipped cream and a cherry, club sandwiches stacked high, and blue-plate specials.

The sputter and hiss of the grill provided a comforting backdrop to the hum of conversation. At the counter, patrons sat on swivel stools, elbows resting on the Formica surface, as they chatted with the cook who flipped pancakes with a practiced flick of the wrist. The walls were adorned with memorabilia—movie posters, album covers, and neon signs advertising ice cream sundaes. The air was filled with the clinking of cutlery, the clatter of dishes being stacked, and the occasional laughter that erupted when stories were shared.

Lyra didn't hesitate to slide into the booth after Max, her gaze immediately drawn to the laminated menu propped against the condiment rack. The pages were a collage of vibrant images and bold text, each dish vying for attention. The pages were a feast for the eyes, adorned with images of juicy steaks, glistening with a perfect sear, and platters of golden-fried fish accompanied by lemon wedges and tartar sauce. She pondered over the pasta section, where spaghetti tangled with meatballs in a rich marinara sauce, and fettuccine ribbons lay draped under a creamy Alfredo.

Max wasted no time in reading the menu over her shoulder as Billy slid in across from them, peering over his menu. The fluorescent lighting overhead glinted off the glossy pages, illuminating the colorful photographs of towering burgers and milkshakes crowned with whipped cream. Max's finger paused over a picture of a blueberry waffle. Billy, on the other hand, seemed drawn to the heartier options, his attention captured by the 'Lumberjack Platter' with its promise of eggs, steak, bacon, and french fries.

Their eyes danced across the pages, occasionally darting up to the specials board that hung above the counter, chalked with today's date and the promise of homemade cherry pie. The server arrived, pad in hand, ready to take their order with a smile on her face. With a final glance at the menu, they each nodded, having made their silent selections. The server's pencil scribbled across the paper, capturing the details of their choices before she whisked away.

"Gross." Max grimaced kicking Billy under the table which he returned. "For the record, this is not behaving." Lyra scolded. "She started it, I was just finishing it." Before Lyra could intervene, Max beat her to it. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't drool over our server before she even brought out the drinks." Billy scoffed avoiding his sister's smirk from across the table.

Not even a second later, the waitress had returned balancing three drinks in her hand. "Here you folks go, two strawberry milkshakes, and one chocolate, your food should be out shortly." She assured paying extra attention to Billy who was giving her a flirty grin. "Thanks, sweetheart." Billy winked leaving the girl a giggling mess. As soon as the waitress left, Max turned to Lyra as if to prove her point.

"You should be used to this, Max." Lyra shrugged having grown accustomed to her brother flirting. Before she could take a sip of her milkshake, Billy reached across the table beating her to it. "What the hell!" Lyra huffed trying to take the glass cup back from him. "You said you'd buy me a milkshake." He stated matter-of-factly. "You have one right there." She pointed to his untouched chocolate milkshake.

"Forgot I like this one better." He shrugged plopping the cherry in his mouth. "Asshole." Lyra cursed taking his chocolate milkshake in retaliation. "Hey shit-bird," He taunted gaining Max's attention. "You know what they say if you can tie a cherry stem with your tongue, right?" He smirked, enjoying the fact that he could get a rise out of her.

Just as Lyra was about to scold him once more their waitress came around the corner of the kitchen and set their designated plates in front of them. With yet another flirty smile and wink from Billy promising that all of their orders looked correct, they finally dug into their meal. As they started eating in silence, the delicious aroma of their food filled the air.

The silence between them was broken only by the satisfying crunch of their fries. Despite the tension, the food was too good to ignore. As the last bites of their meal were finished and the plates cleared away, the tension that had built up seemed to dissipate with the satisfying end to their meal.

Lyra couldn't help but steal another sip of her strawberry milkshake, her sweet revenge for Billy's earlier comments. Billy simply just shook his head with a smirk, knowing better than to comment again. Their waitress returned, placing the bill neatly on the table, her pen tucked behind her ear and a professional smile on her face.

"No rush, whenever you're ready." She smiled, before turning to attend to another table. Billy immediately reached for his wallet. "I thought I was the one paying for the milkshakes?" Lyra teased holding back her laugh at the look of deep offense written on her brother's face. "I got it." Lyra just rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips, knowing this was just another chapter in their ongoing banter. 

Max rolled her eyes noticing Billy scribbling his number on the bill. Making it a personal mission to hand it straight to their waitress. "Y'all have a lovely rest of your night." She gushed pocketing the bill as if it were a trophy after noticing what had been scribbled at the bottom. "Thanks, doll." Billy purred, his grin morphing into a suggestive smirk upon seeing the color of the girl's cheeks redden the longer he held eye contact.

"That's our cue, Max." Lyra gagged linking her arm with the redheads. As the trio made their way out of the diner, Lyra was completely oblivious to a curly-haired boy with a pair of dark chocolate eyes sitting in the very back corner booth following her every movement, feeling quite envious of the dirty blonde's muscled arm around her shoulders leading her to a Camaro he could only dream to afford.

EDDIE MUNSON

“It’s very metal, what you did. That’s all I’m saying.”

➩ Series:

Broken Record

↳ Eddie Munson x Hargrove!OC! what can go wrong?

➩ One Shots:

↳ coming soon …

CHAPTER FIVE: TRICK OR TREAT, FREAK

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 2.2k

A/N: this chapter is definitely my favorite one that I've written for this series! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! This made me realize I'm SO ready for Halloween! 🎃

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"That's your costume?" Max's eyes were wide, a mix of surprise and the typical candor that Lyra had come to expect. There was no malice there, just the blunt honesty. Taken aback but not entirely shocked by her bluntness, Lyra's gaze dropped to her last-minute costume. The leather clung to her like a second skin, the fishnets adding a layer of punk rock chic that she had thought was perfect for the night.

Yet, seeing herself through her sister's eyes, she couldn't help the grimace that tugged at her lips. "It's that bad?" Her voice was a soft echo of doubt amidst the certainty of her sister's judgment. Max simply shrugged. "Neil's going to freak when he sees that nose ring." There was a hint of amusement in her tone, the kind that suggested she was picturing the scene already.

Lyra reached up instinctively, her fingers grazing the small, gold hoop that adorned her right nostril. It was a bold choice, but it was also a harmless rebellion. "It's fake." She replied quickly, the defense a knee-jerk reaction to the implied criticism. The nose ring was just another part of the costume, a temporary addition to her look that could be removed with the same ease as the leather jacket that hung off her shoulders.

It was all part of the night's facade, a character she could put on and take off at will. But for a moment, under her sister's scrutinizing gaze, it felt almost real. "You and Billy could be twins." Although she knew the redhead meant it as a joke, Lyra's stomach twisted into knots thinking back to what had happened a few hours prior. Max's voice cut through her reverie, pragmatic and laced with concern.

"So I take it you're still going to that party?" Lyra nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. "You know I have to go, Max. Billy's a completely different person when he's high and wasted," She sighed, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and protectiveness. It wasn't just a party for her; it was a mission to keep her brother safe from his excesses.

Max's expression softened, her teasing demeanor giving way to sisterly affection. "Just...be careful, okay?" She urged, reaching out to squeeze Lyra's hand. Lyra offered a small, determined smile. "Always am," She replied, though the promise felt as flimsy as the fake nose ring she wore. Tonight, she'd be the guardian angel dressed in devil's clothing, watching over her brother, hoping the night would end with nothing more than a hangover and a few good stories.

After trudging through the neighborhood for what felt like miles, their shoes scuffing against the cracked sidewalks lined with jack-o'-lanterns, Max turned to Lyra with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine Trick-Or-Treating on my own if you want to go to the party. Knowing Billy he's already there." Lyra bit her lip, the streetlights casting long shadows as costumed children darted past them, their laughter a stark contrast to the unease knotting her insides.

She wasn't fond of the idea, the protective streak in her always on high alert during nights like these. Max could see the hesitation dancing in Lyra's eyes, the way she clutched her candy bag a little tighter. With a playful roll of her eyes and a dramatic sigh, Max launched into a full-on campaign. She promised she'd stick to well-lit streets, and, most importantly, be back before Niel got home.

After what seemed like an eternity of bargaining, Lyra's resolve began to crumble like the leaves beneath their feet. With a final, half-hearted grumble, she caved, extracting one last pinky promise from Max that she'd stay alert and stay safe. Lyra watched her sister disappear into the sea of costumes, the weight of worry settling in her chest. With a sigh that misted in the chilly night air, she reached into her jacket pocket, her fingers brushing against the crumpled edges of the orange flyer that had been burning a hole there all evening.

She unfolded it with trepidation, the bold letters announcing the party she dreaded. Unlike her brother, who seemed to thrive in the chaos of loud music and raucous laughter, Lyra found no joy in such gatherings. The very thought of the noise and the crowds made her skin crawl. But the image of Billy, with a drink in hand and his judgment clouded, forced a knot of anxiety to tighten in her throat. Their argument earlier that day replayed in her mind, the harsh words still echoing.

Despite their spat, her protective instincts wouldn't allow her to turn a blind eye. Especially not when she knew all too well the kind of trouble Billy could find—or cause—when alcohol loomed over him like a puppeteer. And if he didn't have her there to keep him in check, he'd either land himself in a situation they'd all regret, or worse, he'd come home to face their father's temper alone. The mere thought sent a wave of nausea through Lyra, her stomach plummeting. 

She knew what she had to do.

As the crowd mingled in the front yard of Tina's house, ranging from Cobra Kai to Madonna lookalikes—the rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the chatter. Heads turned as Lyra made her grand entrance, the engine of her cherry-red motorcycle purring like a beast ready to pounce. She pulled off her helmet, releasing a cascade of dirty blonde waves that caught the moonlight just right, giving her an almost ethereal glow. As she kicked the stand down and swung her leg over the bike, the crowd's awe was palpable.

Whispers and murmurs spread like wildfire, and for a moment, it felt as if time had slowed down just for her. Lyra's confidence was magnetic, her presence commanding the attention of everyone around her. She tossed her helmet under her arm and strutted towards the party, her smile a mix of daring and delight.

The partygoer's eyes followed her every move as she walked past. As Lyra made her way through the front door, the chaos of the party hit her like a tidal wave. The house was teeming with teenagers whose inhibitions had been left at the doorstep. Raucous laughter and shouts filled the air, punctuated by the occasional pop of a beer can opening. She sidestepped a couple who were far too engrossed in each other to notice her, their lips locked in a fervent embrace against the living room wall.

Everywhere she looked, there were scenes of revelry and abandon: groups of friends clustered together, some dancing with abandon to the thumping bass that vibrated through the floorboards, others engaged in animated conversation that was mostly yelling to be heard over the music. The floor was a graveyard of empty beer cans and red solo cups, discarded without a second thought by hands eager for the next drink.

Lyra's eyes darted from face to face, searching for the familiar contours of Billy's features, but he was nowhere to be seen within the crowded rooms. The knot of worry in her chest pulled tighter with each passing second. Then, a commotion from the backyard caught her attention the unmistakable sound of a ruckus that Billy was so adept at causing. Deciding to momentarily ignore it, she walked over toward the kitchen island hoping to find a non-alcoholic drink.

Instead, she found a punch bowl that looked a little too intimidating for her taste. "Care for a drink?" A tall sandy-blonde guy in a football jersey asked, catching her off guard. She quickly shook her head, hoping he would get the message and move along. Upon noticing the helmet tucked under her arm, the sandy-blonde boy made the connection. "Shit, so you're the chick that owns the Yamaha FZR600 parked outside." Lyra nodded, surprised that her arrival had already become a topic of conversation in such a short amount of time.

With a confident smile, he introduced himself as James, clearly trying to make a good impression. "And what's your name, gorgeous?" He asked, stepping closer. "We've met before." She responded nonchalantly waiting for the jock to recall their encounter in the hallway. She watched as he quickly made the connection once more. "I remember you," He smirked, his tone dripping with flirtation. "It was pretty hot seeing you all fired up." She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his comment, not impressed by his choice of conversation.

However, James was completely oblivious to her lack of interest. "Over Byers, though?" He laughed, making Lyra clench her jaw in annoyance. "Shit, he's just as much of a freak as Munson," Lyra rolled her eyes. "Believe me, you don't want to be seen around them. They're not worth your time, gorgeous." She didn't have a chance to respond due to immediately spotting Billy stride across the room, a look of determination written all over his features. She saw her brother corner a brunette boy, their standoff radiating of testosterone.

"We've got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington." She overheard one of the guys cheer tauntingly. "Suck it, King Steve." Another teased making a triumphant smirk appear on Billy's face. She could only guess that he was the 'King Steve' whom Billy had dethroned. Suddenly, Billy's eyes locked with Lyra's from across the crowded room, and a protective glint sparked in his gaze as he noticed James lingering nearby. Giving Steve, one final glare, Billy made his way over to his sister, not even acknowledging James with a word. "Beat it," He grumbled, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Lyra couldn't help but stifle a laugh as she watched the jock grab a nearby beer and saunter off, clearly intimidated by Billy's presence. The silence between Billy and Lyra felt heavy, as if they were both searching for the right words to say. Finally, Billy broke the silence, his eyes falling on the helmet in Lyra's grasp. "You brought the motorcycle?" He questioned, a mix of surprise and curiosity in his voice. 

Lyra shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I wasn't gonna walk," She scoffed, reaching for a rogue water bottle on the counter. Billy couldn't help but comment on Lyra's attire, raising an eyebrow. "Dressed like that?" He deadpanned. Lyra's defenses immediately went up. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" She scoffed, her tone defensive. Billy let out a frustrated sigh, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "No surprise that dirtbag was hittin' on you. You're lucky I saw you in time," He mumbled, his concern evident. Lyra's frustration grew.

"I've told you several times before, I can take care of myself," She retorted which made Billy scoff. Fed up with the tension, Lyra couldn't help but snap, growing tired of his attitude that was giving her whiplash. "You know what, screw you. Go back to doing whatever the hell you were doing before I got here." She growled, her frustration boiling over. But before she could storm off, Billy reached out, his hand circling her wrist. "Lyra, wait," He called out, his voice filled with a mix of regret. "Can we just forget about all this? Just have a reckless night for once?" He motioned vaguely between the two of them.

Lyra looked at him, her expression softening. "This?" She questioned, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I only came to this stupid party because I didn't want you to get in trouble with Dad. Even if we fought, some part of me wanted to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. So, forgive me for looking out for you." She huffed in frustration and anger. Lyra felt the sting of tears threatening to spill, a mix of emotions swirling within her. 

She didn't know whether the tears were for the sun-soaked memories of California. Or whether they were born from the unfamiliar strain between her and Billy. A strain that had been absent in their lives until they found themselves in the strange, unsettling world of Hawkins. "Sunshine-" Lyra's heart clenched at the nickname, a vestige of a simpler time. She shook her head, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her despite the coldness she wanted to project.

"You're forgiven," Her voice was barely above a whisper, betraying the turmoil inside her. "I—I just need some air." She didn't linger to catch the look of relief that flickered across Billy's face, nor did she stay to see it quickly replaced by the familiar shadow of remorse. She pushed through the door, stepping out into the night where the chill wrapped around her like a much-needed embrace.

SEASON THREE ➩ BROKEN RECORD

Eddie Munson x OC!Fem!Reader

summary: the residents of Hawkins try to enjoy a normal summer, filled with love and celebrations, especially around the Fourth of July. However, their peace is shattered by strange occurrences and betrayals. The Mind Flayer returns, creating chaos and heartbreak. Relationships are tested, and the group faces new challenges, leading to intense cliffhangers that leave their fate uncertain.

chapters coming soon …