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I want a byers-hopper family show.

Like The drama would be fantastic.

Janes boyfriend doesn't love her anymore. Sad.

Plot twist! Hes in love with her brother Will!

Jonathan struggling to keep his gf

Jonathan and argyle being complete idiots

Joyce and hopper being a power couple

Hopper having a panic attack because 2 of his kids are in love with Michael wheeler

Joyce and Jonathan shipping byler.

Max and El being a power duo because max is totally not in a coma.

The party coming over and its chaos

Just everything would be so funny i would love it sm-

I just read something like this. It's called sunflower in the evening by happypilot.

i went on a deep dive of the Steve & Hopper ao3 tag yesterday and and it got me thinking about what would happen if Chief of Police Hopper ran into Steve and Eddie while he was on patrol after pseudo-adopting Steve, and it’s been long enough that Hopper is sort of a safe-person for Steve so Steve goes into full-fledged bitch mode when Hopper tries to pull cop stuff on them, and Eddie (who knew about none of this because Steve is a chronic under-sharer) is so totally baffled.

He’d spent years watching Steve sweet-talk his way out of trouble. Even before they started hooking up it used to drive Eddie goddamn insane, because if (when) Eddie pulled any of this shit Steve gets away with, he’d be totally screwed, but all Steve has to do is flash a sheepish grin and run a hand through his hair once or twice and say, all baleful, “I really didn’t mean any trouble,” and he’s home free.

It has its perks though, or so he's learned during his last few months of hanging around with Steve, so when Steve and Eddie’s make-out session is interrupted by the tell-tale red and blue lights of a cop car pulling up behind where Steve parked the Beemer a few hundred yards down a maintenance road, Eddie’s not all that worried. In fact, he’s got a pretty good amount of faith in Steve’s ability to spin up some story to keep them out of any real trouble, and as Chief Hopper ambles over to them, Eddie prepares himself for a whole show of, “Yes Chief, sorry Chief, it won’t happen again Chief.”

So imagine Eddie's complete and utter surprise when Hopper barks, “Hey, morons! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” and Steve only rolls his eyes and says, “What’s it to you?”

Eddie feels his jaw drop.

“Steve,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He tries to elbow Steve into shutting the hell up, but he misses because Steve has already taken several steps forward to meet Hopper, his face turned up in a kind of defiance Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen on him before.

“What’s it to me?” Hopper repeats, glowering at Steve, “It’s midnight. I’m on patrol. You’ve got one of the most recognizable cars in this entire damn town parked in a restricted-access zone with this idiot–” Hopper gestures at Eddie (Eddie didn’t think the pointing or the idiot were necessary, but clearly, clearly, he’s missing something here), “–who’s been dragged into my station more times than I could count.”

“The town line, Hop, is over there,” Steve says, pointing at an indiscriminate spot over Hop’s shoulder that may or may not be part of the Hawkins town line, “We’re not even in Hawkins anymore. You’re totally out of your jurisdiction.”

“You wanna know something about jurisdiction, smart-ass?” Hopper asks, “If my report says shit happened in my jurisdiction, it happened in my jurisdiction.”

“Wow,” Steve deadpans, “Way to not sound totally corrupt. Nice work, Chief.”

Hopper’s jaw twitches for a second, and he’s clearly debating if he wants to keep arguing with Steve who, to Steve’s credit, looks like he’s got debate in him for days. Ultimately though, Hopper decides against it and stalks back over to his squad car.

“If you’re not home by one there’s gonna be hell to pay. You hear me, Harrington?” Hopper yells, “One AM. Hell to pay.”

“Oh, sure,” Steve rolls his eyes, “Totally hear you. One AM. Loud and clear or whatever.”

Steve flips the cruiser both birds as it peels away, which Hopper only flashes his high beams at a couple times before he’s gone, kicking up a bunch of dirt and mulch and leaves in his wake, and Steve is wearing an exasperated expression as he turns to face Eddie again.

“God, he’s so annoying. Let’s just go to my house.”

Eddie gapes at him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Huh?”

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie repeated, gesturing wildly towards where Hopper’s car had just been.

“Wha– you mean with Hop?”

“Uh, yeah?!?”

Steve just brushed him off, “Whatever, just ignore him. He’s basically my dad.”

“What?”

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 …

BROKEN RECORD

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || stranger things || seasons two - four

SUMMARY: Lyra Hargrove had to grow up quickly, constantly adjusting to unwanted changes. The hardest was moving to Hawkins, Indiana after her father remarried to keep up a facade of a happy family. Weeks into their new life, Lyra notices Max acting secretive and avoiding everyone. She soon discovers that Hawkins is linked to the Upside Down, a dangerous, demonic version of their town. Joining the monster hunting club brings more secrets, lies, and potential heartbreak.

WARNINGS: friends to lovers, second chance romance, cursing, angst, stranger things violence, some talks of blood and gore

A/N: I do not own any of the stranger things characters only Lyra and her storyline as well as any other OC's that I create. Please do not copy or translate my work; paraphrasing is still copying! As always, thank you for all the support in my writing, I appreciate every single one of you! 🥰

➩ SEASON TWO

➩ SEASON THREE

➩ SEASON FOUR

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.

CHAPTER TWO: UNFORGETTABLE ENCOUNTERS

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 1.6K

A/N: lyra and Billy have arrived at hawkins!! Anyone else think Jonathan is criminally underrated? I know this chapter was kinda boring and a filler chapter for what's to come. I'm so excited to write the famous Halloween episode! Eddie and Lyra scenes coming soon!

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Lyra knew that Billy was a sucker for attention. However, this was certainly not the way she expected to arrive at her new High School. As if from a scene in a movie, heads turned to his sleek, dark blue Camaro pulling into the parking lot. The music blaring from the car speakers adding to the anticipation. As Billy parks the car, out steps Max, Lyra following close behind. "Have a good day at school, Cherry." Lyra smiled handing Max her skateboard and watching her skate away.

"She better not be late." Billy chastised throwing his cigarette bud on the ground. "You just love to make an entrance don't you." Lyra scoffed playfully reading Billy like an open book. As Lyra leaned over to get her backpack from the backseat, Billy immediately noticed the amount of male attention she was attracting. Not liking it one bit.

Completely oblivious, Lyra swung her backpack over her shoulders ready to get the awkward introductions out of the way. "Where do you think you're going?" Billy questioned glaring at his sister. "To the main office, we have to pick up our class schedules." Lyra looked at him as if he had grown two heads. "Wearing that," He gestured to the Def Leppard cropped top.

"I don't think so." He tsked pulling a black leather jacket from the trunk of his car. "It's your shirt. I stole it from your closet." She deadpanned giving him the meanest glare she could muster. "Just put the damn thing on." He insisted, throwing his leather jacket in her direction. For the sake of not wanting to argue knowing how stubborn and hot-headed he was she did as he asked. "Happy?" She grumbled sarcastically. "Ecstatic." He retorted with an eye roll. 

It was getting harder and harder for Lyra to ignore the whispers and blatant stares that they were both receiving upon walking toward the main office. She knew that both males and females found Billy attractive.  With his tall, muscular frame, perfectly styled blonde hair, and confident swagger, he exuded an air of mystery and rebellion. Billy's presence has certainly made an impression, and the tension in the air is almost tangible.

On the other hand, Billy was scowling at anyone who dared to look at Lyra for more than five seconds. There was a reason why he had handed her his precious leather jacket. He had no problem knocking out any dirtbag who so much as looked at his sister with lustful intentions or even dared to wolf whistle in her direction. Both siblings made their way to the administration office, where a sign reading "Class Schedules Here" hung crookedly on the door.

Inside, the room was filled with the soft hum of fluorescent lights and the faint smell of copier ink. The walls were adorned with bulletin boards showcasing upcoming events and motivational posters that seemed to promise endless possibilities. A table near the entrance was stacked with neatly arranged packets of paper, each labeled with a different grade level. Lyra and Billy exchanged a glance before reaching for the pile designated for seniors.

Their fingers brushed against the smooth, cool surface of the schedules as they slid one out from the stack. With schedules in hand, they stepped aside, allowing other eager students to grab their own. They unfolded the papers, revealing a grid of classes, room numbers, and teacher names. "Intro to Psychology." Lyra muttered assessing her first class of the day. "What about you?" Billy shrugged handing his sister his class schedule. "Who cares, I'm ditching."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Just don't get caught." Billy scoffed, nonchalantly checking out the cheerleaders who walked by. "I'll see you later." Walking off to find her locker, she was surprised to see Billy hot on her trail. "You let me know if anyone bothers you." Billy declared leaning against the locker next to his sisters. "Easy, Hellraiser," She taunted spinning the dial on her locker and managing to open it on the first try. "I can handle myself. Have fun ditching." With a mischievous grin, Billy sauntered off, leaving Lyra to face her first class of the day.

Thankfully, Lyra's psychology teacher did not bother to introduce her as the new student in front of the whole class. She exhaled a silent sigh of relief and slipped into the back of the classroom, her teacher's eyes only briefly acknowledging her presence before returning to the lesson at hand. Gratitude washed over her; there would be no standing in front of the class, no spotlight to amplify her discomfort, and no need to articulate the reasons behind her and her brother's abrupt transfer during the final stretch of high school.

She settled into an empty desk, the cool surface a welcome barrier between herself and the sea of unfamiliar faces. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead mingled with the murmur of her classmates, creating a cocoon of anonymity. Lyra's heart rate steadied as she realized she could blend into the background, at least for now. As the teacher dove into the intricacies of the human mind, Lyra allowed herself a moment to observe her peers from the safety of her peripheral vision.

No one spared her more than a cursory glance, and that was just fine with her. Here, in this small corner of the world, Lyra could be just another student, her story tucked quietly away beneath the layers of adolescent complexity that filled the room. Luckily the lecture went by smoothly, after a few notes and intricate doodles scrawled in her notebook the school bell rang, signaling the end of class. She quickly grabbed her book bag, making a mental note to stop by her locker to exchange her books.

"Hey," The voice of one of her classmates, Tina, she recalled interrupts her thoughts. "You're new, right?" Instead of saying something snarky and borderline sarcastic, Lyra chooses to instead nod awkwardly. "I'm throwing a Halloween bash tomorrow, hope you can make it." Lyra flashed her a faux smile taking the orange flyer from her hand. "Oh, and feel free to bring that sexy boyfriend of yours." Lyra couldn't hold back the look of disgust that made its way onto her face.

"Billy's not my boyfriend, he's my brother." Tina's smile only grew. "Good to know." Lyra took that as her cue to leave shoving the flyer into her bag and giving the curly-haired brunette another fake smile. The school halls are buzzing with the energy of students rushing to their next class. Amidst the chatter and locker slams, Lyra navigates her way through the crowd. That's when she spots them—a huddle of muscular athletes, their letterman jackets a stark contrast to the sea of regular high school attire.

They're looming over a brunette boy whose back is pressed against the cold metal of the lockers. His eyes are wide, darting around for an escape that doesn't exist, his hands fumbling with the straps of his backpack. Lyra's steps falter for a second, taking in the scene. The boy is practically shrinking under the weight of the athletes' sneering superiority. One of the jocks, a tall guy with a smirk that's all teeth, is leaning in too close, his hand raised reaching for his camera.

"Hey, Byers, who are you spying on today?" One of them jeers, snatching the camera strap. Lyra watches as he tries to grab his camera back, but the jocks are playing keep away, laughing at his attempts. Without missing a beat, Lyra strides over with a palpable determination. Her presence shifts the air, and the jocks' attention snaps to her, their mockery momentarily forgotten. The boy seems to hold his breath, his eyes meeting Lyra's for a fleeting second. Lyra stands her ground, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Beat it assholes." She challenges them, her tone laced with a confidence that belies her status as the new kid. The athletes, caught off guard by her boldness, falter, their facade of invincibility cracking. The standoff is brief but intense, and as quickly as it begins, it ends. The jocks, with a roll of their eyes and a huff of annoyance, back off. They throw a final, warning glance at the brunette boy before they disperse.

Their egos bruised but not quite ready to admit defeat. Lyra offers a hand to the boy, helping him regain his composure. He's visibly relieved, his gratitude evident as he adjusts his camera strap and mumbles a shy "Thanks." She nods, a silent pact forming between them. "Don't mention it," Sticking her hand out she takes the moment to introduce herself.

"Lyra Hargrove." Shuffling the strap of his camera over his shoulder, he meets her halfway shaking her hand. "Jonathan Byres." With the final shrill of the warning bell Lyra gives him one last smile before walking toward the opposite end of the hallway. "Nice to meet you, stay outta trouble, Jonathan Byers." And with that, both teens disappeared into the sea of high schoolers.

CHAPTER THREE: IF DARKNESS HAD A SON

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 2.1K

A/N: another filler chapter, I'm so sorry guys! I wasn't going to post early, but I couldn't wait to get another chapter out for you guys for all the love on this series!

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"Please feel free to stop me if I'm rambling." Lyra winced momentarily feeling bad for Jonathan whom was walking next to her through the crowded hallways of Hawkins High. The bustling noise of lockers slamming and students chatting filled the air, creating a chaotic backdrop to their conversation. Ever since Lyra had "saved" him from brainless jocks, the two had hit it off after discovering that they were in the same English class.

"N-No, it's fine." Jonathan mumbled reassuringly, his eyes darting around nervously. "I've never heard anyone so passionate about comics before," he paused, adjusting the strap of his worn-out backpack. "Well, maybe except my younger brother Will." Lyra's eyes lit up at his words. "My younger sister Max is obsessed with them too, however she'll never willingly confess to that." She smiled, thinking of the hidden box of comics that Max made her promise to never tell anyone about.

The box was tucked away under Max's bed, filled with dog-eared issues of Spider-Man and X-Men. "You two close?" Jonathan question watching a smile breakout onto Lyra's face. "We all are," She replied sucking in a breath she was holding. She grimaced slightly taking back her words. "Well for the most part." Jonathan gave her a small smile urging her to continue. The fluorescent lights above cast a soft glow on his face, making his expression seem even more gentle and understanding.

"Billy isn't so thrilled that we moved here." She admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "He and Max don't really see eye to eye. I'm essentially the mediator when we're all together, I sometimes wish it wasn't like that." She sighed clutching her books tighter to her chest. Noticing the silence after her confession, Lyra shut her eyes in embarrassment. The bustling hallway seemed to quiet down, amplifying her discomfort. "I am so sorry." She murmured, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"Don't apologize," He reassured once more, his voice steady and calm. "Something tells me you needed to get that out of your chest. My mom always says its better to let it out rather than to hold it all in. Says it makes your spirit feel lighter." Lyra nodded taking a second for his words to sink in. She could feel the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Wise woman." She praised bringing a smile to Jonathan's face. "Yeah, she is," He said softly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fondness and nostalgia.

Lyra watched as Jonathan fumbled with his camera, his fingers tracing the edges as if it were a lifeline. The hallway was bustling with activity, and they had to navigate through a sea of cheerleaders and their boyfriends. The cheerleaders' bright uniforms and high-pitched laughter contrasted sharply with the glares their boyfriends sent Jonathan's way. Lyra noticed the audacity with which they smiled at her, as if she were an exception to their silent judgment.  

Jonathan held onto his camera tighter, his knuckles turning white. Lyra could sense his discomfort and felt a surge of protectiveness. She walked a little closer to him, hoping to shield him from their disdainful looks. "You know," She interjected, trying to lighten the mood, "Your mom's advice is something I should probably take to heart more often." Jonathan glanced at her, his eyes softening. "It's not always easy, but it does help," he admitted. They continued walking, the noise of the hallway fading into the background as they found solace in each other's company.

Reaching the darkroom, Jonathan's hand hovered over the door handle before turning back to Lyra. "If you ever need to talk about anything, you know where to find me." He assured. Lyra couldn't help but snicker, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm assuming that doesn't include shit-talking Mrs. O'Donnell?" She joked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Jonathan shook his head in amusement, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're the absolute worst." He teased. "It's a good thing I moved to Hawkins then, I keep your life interesting."

Jonathan did not agree nor disagree; he simply shrugged his shoulders, a movement Lyra couldn't quite decipher. It was as if he was keeping a part of himself hidden, something she found both intriguing and frustrating. "Well, these pictures aren't going to develop on their own, I'll see you Lyra." With a final wave, he disappeared into the darkroom. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Lyra standing alone in the now quieter hallway. With a sigh, she turned and walked to the opposite end of the hallway to her locker.

The metal door creaked as she opened it, and she quickly grabbed her books for her upcoming classes, swapping out the old ones. The routine felt oddly comforting, a small moment of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic school day. Just as she was about to reach and grab her Biology textbook, a denim-clad hand beat her to it. She looked up to see Billy, grinning mischievously. "Sup, nerd," He teased, giving a playful tug on a strand of Lyra's hair. His cerulean blue eyes sparkled with a familiar blend of affection and mischief.

Lyra rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips despite her best efforts to appear annoyed. She snatched her book back with a swift, practiced motion. "Real mature, William," She shot back, emphasizing his full name with mock severity. Lyra watched with satisfaction as Billy's face scrunched up in disgust at the sound of it. "Don't call me that," Billy groaned, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the name itself. His reaction was exactly what Lyra had hoped for, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Where have you been today? I didn't see you during lunch." She questioned, closing her locker with a soft click and making her way towards her last and final class of the day. "Nothin' you need to worry your pretty little head about, sunshine," He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Lyra knew better than to press for details; the playful gleam in his eye told her all she needed to know. "Good," She insisted, her tone laced with mock seriousness. "Spare me the details of your midday rendezvous."

As they walked, the noise of the hallway began to fade, replaced by the rhythmic sound of their footsteps. Lyra glanced sideways at her brother, noting the way his hair fell messily over his forehead, and the confident swagger in his step. "Well, if you must know," Billy began, leaning in conspiratorially. "No I really don't." She repeated hoping to get her point across. "I was busy saving this shit hole from utter disaster." He winked, and Lyra couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head at his antics.

"Sure you were," She replied, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. As they reached the door to her classroom, Lyra paused, turning to face him. "Just try to stay out of trouble, okay?" She coaxed giving him her best glare. "No promises," With a playful salute he was sauntering off down the hallway. "Billy wait," She called out, her voice echoing slightly in the now less crowded corridor. He paused mid-step, turning to face her once more, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"Don't forget, I can't cover for you today, Susan and Dad are going to be home," Lyra reminded Billy, her voice tinged with concern. Almost immediately, the tension between the siblings grew palpable. Lyra could see Billy's entire demeanor shift, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching. "Don't worry, I'll do all the talking," She assured him, trying to ease the situation.

Upon hearing her words, Billy somewhat deflated, yet his guard remained raised. He was always on edge, always ready for a fight. "Can't wait," Billy huffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He walked out of the double doors, immediately reaching for a cigarette. For once in his life, he found himself hoping that the school day would drag on. Anything to delay the inevitable confrontation at home.   

Family dinners were the one thing in the entire world that made Lyra's anxiety skyrocket. Since they had moved from California, Susan and Neil had hardly been home due to their demanding work schedules. The house often felt more like a hotel than a home, with everyone coming and going at different times. However, on a rare Wednesday afternoon, they had both decided to have dinner together as a family in their new home. The evening air was filled with the rich, inviting scents of home-cooked food.

With the help of Lyra and Max, Susan had prepared an array of beautifully smelling dishes. The table was set with the mismatched dishes they had brought from their old home, each piece holding a memory of their past life. The faint sound of Madonna's "Like a Virgin" played from the kitchen radio, adding a nostalgic touch to the atmosphere. The aroma of the food filled the house, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere, but Lyra couldn't shake the knot in her stomach.

"Dinner's ready!" Susan chirped, snapping Lyra out of her thoughts. She was ushered to sit next to Billy, who had his head down and desperately wanted the attention not to be drawn to him. Max shared a glance with Lyra whom only gave her a reassuring smile in return. "Looks delicious, honey." Neil praised his voice filled with genuine admiration for the spread before them. With that the food was passed around, everyone filling their plates.

The only thing that could be heard being the music filling the silence. Lyra hoped this dinner would be over quickly, her anxiety making it hard to enjoy the meal. Oh, how wrong she was. Almost as if reading her thoughts, Neil was the first to break the silence in the air. "Max," he began, his voice cutting through the quiet. The redhead in question snapped her head up upon hearing her name, her eyes wide with surprise. "How was school today?" He asked his voiced laced with curiosity.

"It was fine," She mumbled vaguely, playing with the food on her plate. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Neil seemed to be satisfied with her answer. His eyes then moved over to his eldest daughter. "Lyra, how's school treatin' you, sweetheart?" The blonde set her silverware down carefully, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. "It's good," she answered quickly, her voice steady but with a hint of underlying exhaustion.

She could feel everyone's eyes on her, waiting for more. "Sure is keeping me busy, especially with college applications coming up," She added, trying to sound upbeat. "There's a lot of work to do, but I'll manage just fine." She explained briefly, hoping her answer would be enough to hold her dad over from more questions. About another minute of silence went by, the quiet stretching out uncomfortably. That's all it took for the once homey atmosphere of their house to shift into one of tension. The air seemed to thicken, and the previously warm and cozy dining room now felt stifling and oppressive.

The soft ticking of the wall clock grew louder, each second amplifying the unease that settled over the family like a heavy blanket. The dim light from the chandelier cast long shadows across the room, adding to the oppressive atmosphere."I suppose that's the opposite of what you're doing." Neil seethed glaring daggers at Billy whom had yet to say anything since they had sat down to eat. His tone a stark contrast to how he had acknowledged his daughter and stepdaughter earlier, his voice dripping with disdain. "Got anything to say for yourself, boy." Billy's lack of response only seemed to aggravate him even more.

"Of course not," Neil scoffed venomously, his face contorting with anger.. "While your sisters is off being successful, I'm going to have to be draggin' your useless ass along for the rest of my life. You're so fucking pathetic, a deadbeat's all you're ever gonna be." The words hung in the air like a toxic cloud, suffocating any potential for peace. Not wanting to hear any more, Billy forcefully pushed his chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor, and walked out of the dining room. He stormed into his room, slamming the door shut with a resounding bang that echoed through the house.

On instinct, Lyra pushed her chair back to follow Billy. She could see the pain etched on his face, the way his shoulders slumped under the weight of their father's harsh words. But Neil's booming voice made her stop in her tracks. "Let him go, Lyra," He demanded rather sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. It made Lyra reluctantly sit back down, her eyes filled with worry and frustration. "He's not worth it." Lyra couldn't disagree more. She clenched her fists under the table. The room felt colder, the warmth of family dinner replaced by a chilling silence.

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 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.

CHAPTER SIX: ROCK N' ROLL DREAM

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 4.6K

A/N: now without further ado, the chapter everyone has been waiting for, I made sure to make this chapter a long one!! Enjoy! 🤭

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A rollercoaster of emotions were swirling through Lyra's mind. In the past twenty-four hours, she had felt so many unprecedented feelings that had been suppressed for years, bubbling up to the surface like a shaken soda can ready to explode. Memories of happier times mixed with the current turmoil, creating a chaotic storm within her. She knew that Billy hated change, clinging to the familiar like a lifeline. But the more time they spent in Hawkins, the longer he became unrecognizable to her.

Lyra remembered the days when Billy was her protector, always looking out for her with a fierce loyalty. But now, his actions were more erratic and unpredictable. She could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface, a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. The small town of Hawkins, with its eerie stillness and lurking shadows, seemed to amplify his inner demons, turning him into someone she could barely understand.

The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future pressed heavily on Lyra's shoulders. She felt a pang of guilt, wondering if there was something she could have done differently, some way to reach out to the brother she once knew. The howling wind snapped her out of her inner turmoil as she hugged the leather jacket closer to her body so that it would provide some much needed comfort and warmth that she desperately needed. The cold air bit at her cheeks, turning them a rosy shade, and her breath formed small clouds in the frigid night.

She took a second to distract herself by analyzing Tina's backyard. The yard was a spectacle of Halloween creativity. Fake cobwebs stretched between the trees, glistening in the moonlight, and plastic skeletons hung from the branches, swaying gently in the wind. Teenagers from Hawkins certainly knew how to throw a rager. However the decorations and trash that littered the yard weren’t the only thing that caught Lyra’s attention. She was quick to noticed a shadowy figure completely isolated from everyone. The only indication that she wasn't out there alone was the amber glow of their cigarette.

Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness she noticed that he was wearing a costume she definitely recognized for the first time all night. He was dressed in tight black jeans, a leather jacket adorned with metal studs, and a wild mane of curly hair that framed his face. Without thinking too much about it, her feet carried her over to the stranger, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Kirk Hammet." The stranger in question nearly spat out the beer he had taken a swing from.

He swore he was hallucinating, that is until his eyes met Lyra's. "W-What?" He spluttered trying to wrap his head around the fact that a pretty girl knew who he was dressed up as. "I like your costume, bold choice."  The stranger chuckled nervously, running a hand through his curly hair. "Well if the shoe fits." He gestured to himself theatrically. "Thanks, not many people get it. You into Metallica?" His voice was a mix of surprise and curiosity, the kind that made Lyra feel a little less like an outsider in this sea of unfamiliar faces.

"Yeah, you could say that," She replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and the distant laughter of partygoers. Breaking the silence, Lyra watched as the long-haired stranger reached behind him to grab a metal lunchbox, its surface adorned with stickers of various rock bands. "So, you interested in some of the devil's lettuce, sweetheart?" He asked, shaking it comically, the contents rattling inside.

Lyra couldn't help but scoff, her breath visible in the chilly air. "You're a dealer?" She raised her brow in question, her curiosity piqued. "Only the best in Hawkins," He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Eddie Munson at your service." He bowed theatrically, his wild curls bouncing with the movement. Lyra chuckled, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie in his presence. "As much as I appreciate the offer, that's more my brother’s vice rather than mine," She replied, her voice tinged with amusement.

Eddie's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Shit, I'll make myself scarce then," He said, pretending to tip an invisible hat before turning to leave. But before he could take a step, Lyra reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt of warmth through her, grounding her in the moment. "Wait," She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to go." Eddie's eyes softened, and he nodded, taking a step closer.

The night seemed a little less cold, and the world outside Tina's backyard felt a little less daunting. Breaking the silence, Lyra watched as the long-haired stranger, Eddie Munson, settled down beside her on the weathered bench. The wood creaked under his weight, adding to the symphony of crickets chirping in the background. He leaned back, his eyes scanning the star-strewn sky above, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So you're the new girl I've been hearing so much about." He concluded putting two and two together. His voice was low and smooth, carrying a hint of curiosity.

Lyra shrugged, turning to face him, her eyes reflecting the twinkling stars above. "What gave it away?" She questioned, her tone light but her eyes searching his face for an answer. "Well," He started holding up his finger. "For one I've never seen you around, and I'd remember someone with good taste in music." And two," He held up two fingers. "Gossip travels fast at the hellhole that is Hawkins High." Lyra chuckled softly, the sound blending with the distant rustle of leaves. The air was cool, but the warmth of their budding conversation kept the chill at bay.

Eddie's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and genuine interest, making her feel oddly at ease. "So, you got a name, or am I going to have to call you sweetheart all night?" He teased, his smile widening. "Lyra," She replied, her voice steady but soft. The name felt like a bridge between them, a small but significant step towards familiarity. Eddie nodded, as if committing her name to memory. "Lyra," He repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. The way he said her name made it feel like more than just a formality; it felt like the beginning of something new and unexpected.

"You got another cigarette on you, Eddie?" Lyra questioned teasingly, quite confident that she knew the answer. "You wound me," He muttered, digging the pack out of the inside of his leather jacket. "Never leave home without it, even if I promised my uncle I'd quit." He pulled out a cigarette and handed it to her, the silver rings on his fingers catching the faint light from the porch. Lyra took the cigarette, feeling the cool paper between her fingers. The smell of tobacco mixed with the earthy scent of the night air, creating a strangely comforting aroma.

Eddie struck his lighter, the brief flare of light illuminating his face before he held the flame to her cigarette. She inhaled deeply, the smoke curling up into the night sky, blending with the misty breath of the cool evening. Eddie leaned back, his own cigarette dangling from his lips. "You know," He said, exhaling a cloud of smoke, "My uncle's always on my case about these things. Says they're gonna be the death of me." He chuckled, a sound that was more resigned than amused. Lyra watched the smoke drift away, her thoughts momentarily lost in the swirling patterns.

"Yeah, well, sometimes it's the little rebellions that keep us sane," She replied, her voice tinged with a quiet defiance. She glanced over at Eddie, noticing the way his eyes softened, as if he understood more than he let on. The night seemed to stretch on, the silence between them comfortable and unforced. "So what's your story?" Eddie asked catching Lyra by surprise. She raised her brow in question urging him to continue. "You don't drink or smoke weed, but you smoke tobacco and ride a motorcycle," He thought aloud, his tone carrying a hint of admiration. Eddie's gaze met hers, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“Don’t forget, I also like metal,” She added with a smirk, the edges of her lips curling into a playful grin. The sound of distant laughter and the rustling of leaves filled the air, but their focus remained solely on each other. “Right, how could I forget,” He teased, making Lyra smile, her cheeks flushing slightly in the cool night air. After a beat of silence, almost as if Eddie was trying to figure out exactly what to say, he finally spoke. "You're interesting," He concluded, his voice filled with genuine curiosity and admiration.

This made Lyra let out a chuckle, the sound light and melodic, blending seamlessly with the rustling leaves around them. "Says the resident metalhead - drug dealer," She sassed back, motioning to him and his metal lunchbox, which he always carried with an air of nonchalance. "Touché," He smirked, taking a long drag out of his cigarette, which was almost out. "I gotta ask, how'd you even get into metal in the first place?" Eddie questioned. "Well," Her eyes flickered with nostalgia as she thought back to her childhood.

"When you have a brother who blasts it 24/7, it tends to grow on you." She could almost hear the distant echoes of guitars and drums coming from Billy's room, the relentless beats becoming the soundtrack of her formative years. "Besides," She smirked to herself, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Axl Rose's ass looks amazing in leather." She snickered, recalling the posters that she had admired everyday on the walls of Billy's room. "Jesus H. Christ," Eddie groaned, falling backwards on the wooden bench dramatically.

"You're one of those girls." Lyra scoffed, teasingly shoving his shoulder. "You know if you're ever interested in hearing some live metal music sometime and giving your ole’ Walkman a break, my band and I play at the Hideout on Tuesdays." He suggested, his voice carrying a hint of hopeful excitement. "Why does it not surprise me that you're in a bad." Lyra thought aloud, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Eddie was about to give her a witty remark when she interrupted, her curiosity piqued. "Let me guess, with your theatrics, you're the lead guitarist too?"

"And lead singer most nights." He announced proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and Lyra couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "So you're one of those guys." Lyra teased throwing his words from earlier back at him. Eddie couldn't help the smile that made it's way on his face. There was absolutely no way that a pretty girl liked metal and appreciated his humor. "Maybe I could get your number and-" Only Eddie didn't get to finish his sentence. A sudden loud crash from a nearby alley interrupted him, causing both of them to look in that direction.

Hearing the commotion of "Ooos" coming from inside the house made goosebumps arise on Lyra's skin. That could not be good. The night air felt suddenly colder, the chill seeping into her bones as she tried to gauge the situation. "Duty calls?" Eddie asked, immediately noticing Lyra's shift in demeanor. His voice was gentle, yet tinged with curiosity and concern. Lyra turned to give Eddie a remorseful look, wishing she could stay in his company longer. The warmth and ease of their conversation had been a rare comfort. "I'm so sorry,” She apologized, seeing the disappointment swimming in his chocolate doe eyes.

“I just have a feeling that my brother is somehow involved and we have a curfew," She explained, her voice tinged with frustration and a hint of regret. She could feel the weight of responsibility pulling her away. "No biggie sweetheart, just get home safe, alright." Eddie replied with a reassuring smile. His calm and understanding demeanor was a stark contrast to the chaos she anticipated inside. "Thanks, Eddie," She smiled, grabbing her helmet. "It was really nice to meet you." With an affectionate squeeze to his bicep, Lyra ran inside to see what all the commotion was about, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and the lingering warmth of their brief connection.

Upon entering the house, which was now even more trashed than when she arrived, Lyra maneuvered herself through drunken bodies to try and find the source of the commotion. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, and the sound of loud, off-key singing mixed with laughter still filled the room. She carefully stepped over broken glass and discarded cups, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene for any sign of trouble. She let out a breath of relief seeing as Billy was nowhere to be seen, yet she worried that was a bad sign too.

The last time she saw him, he was already on edge, and his absence now could mean he was getting into even more trouble elsewhere. Those thoughts were quickly put on pause as someone from behind crashed into her. She clutched onto her shoulder, hoping that her hand could relieve the sting before turning to give the drunk partygoer a piece of her mind. "Watch where you're going!" She hissed, only she was taken aback due to making eye contact with 'King Steve'. The same person her brother was face to face with hours earlier.

Upon noticing his disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes, Lyra momentarily felt bad for yelling. Steve Harrington wanted nothing more than to snap back at the blonde girl in front of him, but decided against it. Instead he shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and made his way to the front door without another look back. “Asshole.” She muttered stretching out her aching shoulder and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the residual anger. Suddenly, she heard a slurred curse behind her, "S-Shit!" Spinning around, she saw a drunken girl stumbling, her eyes half-closed and her movements unsteady.

Lyra quickly stepped forward, just in time to steady the girl who looked like she could pass out any second. "Woah, are you okay?" Lyra questioned, her voice softening with concern as she looked into the girl's glazed eyes, trying to gauge her condition. The girl's makeup was smeared, and her hair was a tangled mess, suggesting she had been through quite an ordeal. "I'm f-fine," She slurred, her words barely coherent. Yet Lyra could tell by her disheveled appearance and the way she swayed unsteadily that she was far from fine. The strong smell of alcohol lingered around her, her clothes were wrinkled and slightly damp a red splotch staining the white material.

"Let's get you some fresh air, okay?" Lyra suggested, trying to guide her towards the door. She placed a supportive arm around the girl's shoulders, feeling the cold sweat on her skin. Yet before Lyra could direct her outside, a familiar voice interrupted. "Woah, Nancy, what happened?" Jonathan Byers questioned, his eyes widening with concern as he took in the scene. He stepped closer, his brow furrowing in worry. A moment of realization seemed to cross Nancy's face before she looked at Jonathan, her voice barely above a whisper. "Steve's bullshit," She muttered, her words thick with emotion and fatigue.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked like she had been crying. Jonathan frowned, his worry deepening as he glanced between Lyra and Nancy. "I need to get her home," He announced, taking a gentle but firm hold of Nancy's forearm. He began to steer her towards the front door, his grip steadying her as she stumbled slightly. Nancy's breathing was shallow, and she leaned heavily on Jonathan, her head drooping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her. "Let me help you," Lyra insisted, her voice filled with concern and urgency as she followed closely behind Jonathan. She reached out to support Nancy's other side, her hands trembling slightly with worry.

The trio moved slowly through the crowded room, weaving between groups of people who were oblivious to the unfolding drama. As they reached the front door, the cool night air rushed in, bringing a momentary sense of relief. The stars were faintly visible against the dark sky, and the distant hum of traffic provided a soothing backdrop. Lyra could feel the tension in Nancy's body begin to ease slightly, but she knew they still had a long way to go. She glanced at Jonathan, who nodded in appreciation, his eyes reflecting the same concern and determination that she felt. Together, they guided Nancy outside, hoping that the fresh air and the quiet of the night would help her recover.

As they reached Jonathan's car, Lyra was quick to pull his passenger car door open so that he could gently place Nancy inside without much of a struggle. Nancy slumped into the seat, her eyes half-closed, as Jonathan carefully buckled her in, making sure she was comfortable and secure before shutting the door softly. Turning to Lyra he fiddled with his fingers, his eyes darting around nervously. "I, um, saw your brother passed out by the tree on the side of the house," He informed her, his voice tinged with concern. She was unable to stifle the eye roll, knowing that dealing with Billy was going to be a challenge.

Lyra couldn't help but roll her eyes, the exasperation clear on her face. The image of her brother sprawled out under the tree flashed in her mind, adding to her already mounting stress. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come, while Jonathan gave her a sympathetic look, his hands now resting on the roof of the car. "I'll take care of it," She sighed a hint of exasperation crossing her face. "Get home safe," At her words he nodded, giving Lyra a reassuring smile. He jumped into the driver's seat of his car, the engine roaring to life as he turned the key. With a final wave, he drove off into the night, leaving Lyra to deal with Billy. She watched the taillights disappear around the corner, the weight of the night's events settling heavily on her shoulders.

Taking another deep breath, she turned back towards the house, her footsteps echoing softly on the gravel driveway. The porch light flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance with the wind. She hoped that Billy wouldn't be too far out of it, but as she neared the side of the house, her hopes were quickly dashed. Sure enough, just as Jonathan had said, Billy was sprawled out, nursing a bottle of god knows what in his hand. The smell of alcohol hit her before she even reached him, a pungent mix of whiskey and stale beer. As she reached him, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Jesus, Billy, you smell like a bar. How much did you drink?" She muttered, crouching down to his level. She gently pried the bottle from his hand, her fingers brushing against his clammy skin. The night was far from over, and as she helped him to his feet, she knew that the real challenge was just beginning. "K-Keg King." He slurred, a sloppy smile spreading across his face. For a brief moment, he seemed proud of himself, but the smile quickly faded when he caught sight of his sister's hardened expression. The disappointment in her eyes was unmistakable, and it cut through his drunken haze like a knife.

"Keys," Lyra demanded, holding her hand out, her voice firm and unwavering. She wasn't in the mood for any of his usual antics. Her patience was wearing thin, and all she wanted was to get him inside and away from any more trouble. Billy fumbled in his pockets, the sound of jingling keys breaking the tense silence. Finally, he pulled them out and dropped them into her waiting hand, his head hanging low in shame. Lyra clenched the keys in her hand, the cold metal biting into her palm. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before wrapping an arm around Billy's waist to support him. They stumbled together towards his Camaro, the gravel crunching under their feet in the quiet night.

"You can't keep drowning your problems in alcohol." Billy's head lolled to the side, his eyes half-closed. "I'm fine." He mumbled, his words barely coherent. Lyra shook her head, guiding him into the passenger seat and buckling him in, only taking her eyes off of him to throw her helmet in the backseat. "This isn't fine," She said softly, more to herself than to him. She walked around to the driver's side, her mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. As she started the car, she glanced over at Billy, who had already drifted off to sleep. She sighed, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on her shoulders.

Just then like a bucket of ice water being dumped onto her, she realized that she and Billy had come to the party separated. Her eyes darted to the spot where her motorcycle was still parked a few feet away, gleaming under the streetlights. There was no way she was about to leave her prized possession in someone else's driveway overnight. "Shit," She muttered to herself, fighting the exhaustion that was beginning to cloud her mind. She needed to formulate a coherent plan, but her brain felt sluggish and uncooperative. The thought of abandoning her bike gnawed at her, but so did the idea of leaving Billy alone in his current state.

Almost as if someone was answering her thoughts, Lyra spotted the familiar unruly hair of Eddie Munson, a few feet away throwing his metal lunchbox into a van. This was her only chance. "Stay in the car." Lyra demanded throwing the drivers seat open. Hearing those words, Billy woke up from his drunken slumber, sitting up straighter and fumbling with his seatbelt. "But-" Lyra's harsh voice cut him off. "Billy I mean it!" She all but growled, her patience snapping. "Stay. In. The. Car." With those final words she slammed the door to his Camaro shut leaving no more room for argument.

"Eddie, wait!" She called out, sprinting towards him, her heart pounding in her chest. Eddie turned, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw her approaching. "Lyra? What's going on?" He asked, concern etched on his face. "I need your help," She said breathlessly, glancing back at the car where Billy was slumped. He followed her line of sight, his brows furrowing momentarily. "I need to get him home, but I drove my motorcycle here. Is there any way, and of course if you don't mind, can we store my motorcycle in the back of your trunk? Just for tonight I promise I'll-" Yet her rambling was cut short. "Hey," Eddie coaxed placing his hands on her shoulders reassuringly.

"Slow down." He spoke softly, his touch grounding her in the moment. She could feel the warmth of his hands through her jacket, a stark contrast to the chill of the night air. "Go grab your motorcycle, I'll make room in the back of my van, okay?" His words were a balm to her frazzled nerves, and she nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. She watched as Eddie moved with purpose, his movements quick and efficient as he opened the van's back doors and began rearranging the clutter inside to make space. Eddie started to move the band's supplies around, carefully stacking amplifiers and drum kits to one side, making sure nothing would topple over during the ride.

He meticulously placed guitar cases and mic stands, his hands moving with a practiced ease that spoke of many nights spent loading and unloading gear. The van, once a chaotic mess of cables and equipment, began to take on a semblance of order under his diligent care. Not feeling confident enough to answer, she simply nodded again, her eyes following Eddie's every move. She could see the determination in his eyes, the way his brow furrowed slightly as he focused on the task at hand. It was a small gesture, but in that moment, it meant the world to her. The sight of Eddie’s methodical movements and the sound of equipment being carefully arranged provided a strange sense of comfort, making her feel that everything would be okay.

As Eddie continued to rearrange the band supplies, Lyra made her way to her motorcycle, with a gentle rumble, she started the engine, the sound a familiar comfort to her ears. Slowly and carefully, she maneuvered the motorcycle towards the waiting van. Eddie glanced up from his task, a smile playing on his lips as he saw her approach. Together, they worked in harmony, coordinating the loading of the motorcycle into the back of the van. Eddie guided her with precise hand signals, ensuring the bike was securely fastened for the journey ahead. With a final click, the van doors were closed, the task completed. As they both stepped back, a sense of accomplishment filled the air. Lyra turned to Eddie, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Keep her safe for me." She whispered, her voice carrying a mix of hope and reliance.

"Scouts honor." He assured, using his fingers and crossing his heart over his leather jacket. The gesture, both earnest and endearing, made a smile make its way onto Lyra's face. "Thanks Rockstar, I owe you one." Even in the moonlight, it was hard to miss the crimson blush that made its way onto Eddie's face. He looked down for a moment, kicking a small pebble with his boot before meeting her gaze again. "Get home safe, alright." Lyra nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. She gave Eddie one last appreciative look before turning to leave, the sound of her boots crunching on the gravel the only noise in the stillness.

As she walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder, catching Eddie's eye one more time. He gave her a small, reassuring wave, and she couldn't help but smile. As she opened the door to the Camaro, the leather seat creaked softly under her weight. Billy jolted awake as Lyra started the engine, his eyes bleary and confused. The soft hum of the engine seemed to pull him fully back to consciousness. Almost as if he remembered that they had driven separately, he voiced Lyra's concern from a few minutes prior. "Y-Your bike." His voice was groggy but filled with genuine worry. "It's safe with a friend." She reassured, her voice calm and steady as she inserted the key into the ignition.

She could feel the familiar vibration of the engine beneath her, a comforting reminder of the freedom and speed that awaited them. With a quick, practiced motion, she shifted gears, and the Camaro roared to life. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard, her eyes widening upon noting the time and realizing that they had to hurry. The thought of Susan and Neil realizing they were out past curfew sent a jolt of adrenaline and through her, stress and anxiety resurfacing. The tires screeched slightly as she pressed the accelerator, the car speeding off into the night.

SEASON FOUR ➩ BROKEN RECORD

Eddie Munson x OC!Fem!Reader

summary: returning back to a "normal" life after a tragic loss, the residents of Hawkins try to find some semblance of peace. However, strange occurrences continue, as a new horrifying threat emerges from the Upside Down. The town is once again plunged into chaos, especially when your biggest enemy is your own mind. The lines between reality and nightmare blur, and the group must confront their deepest fears to protect their world from descending into darkness.

chapters coming soon …

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE AWAKENING

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 4.5K

A/N: happy October everyone! 🍂 this chapter is all over the place: tiny amounts of angst, more of Lyra and Eddie, and some familiar faces as we set the scene for the main events of season two!

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The drive home was silent, except for the occasional snore from Billy. Lyra's grip on the steering wheel tightened, determination setting in. She knew she had to help her brother find a way out of this destructive cycle, no matter how hard it would be. Upon arriving home later that night, more like one in the morning, Lyra had to maneuver herself and a staggering Billy inside the house without alerting Susan and especially Neil. The once rowdy Halloween night was now quiet, with only the faint rustling of leaves and distant sounds of traffic breaking the silence. Lyra carefully unlocked the front door, cringing at the slight creak it made.

She glanced back at Billy, who was doing his best to stay upright as he basically clung onto her leather clad shoulder. His weight was heavy, and his breath smelled of alcohol, a stark reminder of the night’s events. The hallway was dimly lit, casting long shadows that seemed to dance with every step they took. Lyra could hear the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room, each tick amplifying her anxiety. She whispered soothing words to Billy, trying to keep him calm and quiet as they made their way to his room. "Holy shit," The voice made her squeeze her eyes shut letting out a shaky exhale.

Only when she managed to turn around and noticed Max standing in the hallway instead of her step mother and father she was able to breathe properly. "Is he okay?" Max whispered her brows furrowing with concern. "Max, quick," Lyra whisper-yelled, completely aware that Neil or Susan could get up at any moment. "Help me get him into his room." Max nodded, rushing over to take some of Billy's weight off Lyra. Together, they carefully navigated the narrow hallway, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. The house seemed to hold its breath, every creak of the floorboards sounding like a thunderclap in the silence.

As they reached Billy's room, Lyra pushed the door open with her hip, the hinges protesting softly. They guided Billy to his bed, easing him down gently. He mumbled something unintelligible, eyes glazed and unfocused. Lyra pulled off his shoes and leather jacket, covering him with a blanket, her movements tender despite her exhaustion. Just as she was about to get up from the edge of the bed, Billy spoke, "I-I'm sorry." He slurred, reaching for Lyra's hand. His grip was weak, but she could feel the desperation in his touch. "Go to sleep, we'll talk about this in the morning." She assured her voice soft and soothing. She squeezed his hand gently before letting go, watching as his eyes slowly close.

Lyra took a deep breath, feeling the tension slowly leave her body. She glanced at Max, who was standing by the door, her eyes wide with concern. "Will he be okay?" She asked again, her voice barely above a whisper. Lyra nodded, forcing a reassuring smile. "He'll be fine, Max. Just needs to sleep it off." With Billy finally settled, Lyra and Max tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them. "Any chance you'll tuck me into bed too?" By the tone of her voice, Lyra could tell Max was joking yet there was a hint of genuine fatigue in her eyes. Lyra chuckled softly, giving Max a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

"Come on Cherry, let's get you into bed." She coaxed throwing her arm over Max's shoulders guiding her towards her room. Without hesitation, Max climbed into bed, pulling her blanket up to her chin, as Lyra tucked the blanket around her snugly. "Goodnight, Lyra," Max yawned, nuzzling into her blanket. Lyra leaned over to give the redhead a kiss on the forehead, her lips brushing softly against Max's warm skin. "Goodnight, Max," She whispered, turning off the light and closing the door gently. As she walked back to her own room, Lyra felt a sense of peace settle over her, knowing that everyone was finally at rest. The quiet of the house enveloped her, and she allowed herself to relax, feeling the weight of the day lift from her shoulders.

The following morning Lyra woke up to a raging headache. Sitting up in her bed, she groaned rubbing her sleep ridden eyes. The following morning, Lyra woke up to a raging headache. Sitting up in her bed, she groaned, rubbing her sleep-ridden eyes. The sunlight streaming through the curtains felt like daggers piercing her skull. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly, trying to steady herself. As she walked towards the bathroom, the events of the previous night flashed through her mind. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would help clear her head. The coolness was refreshing, but it did little to alleviate the pounding in her temples.

Luckily it seemed that both Neil and Susan had already left for work, so that was one less thing she had to worry about. After grabbing the first items of clothes she saw in her closet not bothering with her appearance, Lyra made her way to the kitchen, where she found Max already up, nursing a cup of orange juice. "Morning," Max greeted her, looking more alert than Lyra felt. "How are you feeling?" She asked, her eyes filled with concern. "Like I got hit by a truck," Lyra replied, reaching for a glass of water and some painkillers. She swallowed them quickly, hoping for some relief. "How's Billy?" She questioned turning on the coffee machine. "Still asleep," Max said, her voice soft.

"He was out cold when I checked on him earlier." Lyra nodded, grateful for the quiet moment. She took a seat at the kitchen table, resting her head in her hands. "Thanks for helping out last night, Max. I don't know what I would've done without you." Max smiled, her eyes warm with understanding. "Well, I couldn't just let him crush you.” She joked, her laughter light and infectious. "Go get changed, knowing Billy he probably has a raging hangover and you know what that means." Max nodded, standing up and heading back towards her room. "Make sure you put your helmet in your backpack." Lyra muttered making Max turn around with a smile on her face. "We're going out on your motorcycle?" She asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. "You bet we are," Lyra replied with a wink.

"I just have to get it back from a friend, but after that me and you are getting milkshakes and burgers at Benny's after school." Max practically beamed with happiness. “Awesome, thanks Lyra, you’re the best!” Lyra couldn’t contain her smile, hearing Max call her the best was the dopamine she needed, a small but significant affirmation that made her heart swell. The pounding in her head had subsided enough so that she could get up and make herself a much needed cup of coffee, glancing at the clock, noticing that they had just enough time to get everything done before school. A few moments later just as she predicted, a bare chested Billy came out from his room, a scowl present on his face. "Well, good morning to you," Lyra greeted him, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Billy grumbled something incoherent, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off the pounding headache from last night’s escapades. The scene was almost comical, and despite the tension, Lyra couldn’t help but chuckle softly. She reached for a coffee mug on the shelf, pouring some coffee in it before sliding it over to where he stood. "Thanks, and I'm sorry" He mumbled grabbing the cup of coffee from her hand. His eyes were bloodshot, and the stubble on his face was more pronounced in the harsh morning light. Lyra raised a brow urging him to continue. "Last night, you said we could talk in the morning," He paused motioning that the sun was out through the curtains. "It's morning, so can we talk about it?" He deadpanned, making Lyra hold back her tongue at making a snarky reply.

"I thought I told you that you were forgiven." Billy rolled his eyes, the frustration evident in his furrowed brow. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, the strands sticking up in all directions. "Come on, Lyra, I wasn't that shitfaced to realize you were still upset at me." He abandoned his coffee, the steam rising from the cup in delicate tendrils, stepping toe to toe with his sister who looked unimpressed. "What do I gotta do to get you to stop it with the silent treatment?" Billy's voice was tinged with desperation, his eyes searching hers for any sign of forgiveness. Lyra crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing as she tapped her finger on her chin. It was a childish gesture, but she was determined to make him grovel. "How about not be an asshole?" Lyra shot back, her voice tinged with exasperation.

Billy turned to the last tactic he knew Lyra couldn't resist. Physical touch. A small grin broke on his face as he pulled her into an embrace. His arms wrapped around her tightly, almost lifting her off the ground. "Forgive me yet?" He questioned, squeezing her to his chest. He could feel her tense up, but he held on, hoping his warmth would break through her icy demeanor. "Are you done being a reckless asshole?" She retorted, her voice muffled against his chest. Billy chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I love you too, sunshine." God damn him. He always knew how to get under her skin and melt her defenses at the same time. Lyra's resolve wavered, and she let out a reluctant sigh. "Okay," Lyra huffed, fighting to get out of his muscled embrace. She pushed against his chest, but his grip was firm. "Get off of me, you reek of alcohol," She chastised, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

Billy finally released her, his grin never fading, and Lyra couldn't help but roll her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite herself. "Go get dressed," She instructed, her tone softening just a bit. "I know you have basketball practice today, so you can take a shower at school." She waved her hand dismissively, trying to maintain her stern facade, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. "Yes ma'am," He replied with a playful salute, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He turned on his heel and headed towards his room, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hallway. Lyra watched him go, shaking her head with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. Despite everything, he was still her brother, and she couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

Lyra anxiously waited for the end of the day, looking forward to her girls' day with Max. Throughout class, she found herself fumbling with anything to make the day go by faster. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of her desk, and she doodled absentmindedly in the margins of her notebook. The clock seemed to move at a snail's pace, each tick echoing in her mind like a taunt. She glanced around the classroom, her eyes flitting from the teacher's monotonous lecture to the window. The anticipation bubbled inside her, making it hard to focus on the lesson. As the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the school day, Lyra practically leaped out of her seat.

She gathered her things in a hurry, her heart racing with excitement. As she opened her locker to retrieve her helmet, she noticed a familiar figure a few lockers from hers. The bustling hallway was filled with students getting ready to go home, their voices blending into a cacophony of chatter and laughter, but she immediately recognized Eddie Munson’s curly hair and leather jacket amongst the crowds. The one person she was hoping to run into. With a few short strides, she made her way towards him, leaning against his locker. Eddie, to preoccupied with finding his Hellfire notebook, was oblivious to the blonde girl who was only a few feet away from him. She could see the intensity in his eyes as he rummaged through his things, muttering under his breath about missing dice and character sheets.

“Hey stranger.” She greeted, stifling a laugh as she watched Eddie jump, clutching onto the door of his locker as if it were his lifeline. His eyes widened in shock, and for a split second, he looked like he might actually faint. "Jesus H. Christ!" He exasperated, his voice echoing slightly in the now quieter hallway. “You always sneak up on people like that?” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, his hand still gripping the locker door. Lyra grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Only the ones I like," She replied, leaning casually against the lockers. Eddie's expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he shook his head in disbelief. The bustling sounds of students hurrying to their next class filled the air, but for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them.

Eddie finally let go of the locker door, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "You know, one of these days, you're going to give me a heart attack," He scolded, yet it was anything but malicious. "I see the dramatics are still in order," Lyra just grinned, knowing full well that their playful banter was quickly becoming one of the highlights of her day. His eyes zoned in to the helmet in her hand, his curiosity piqued. "I'm guessing you want your bike back?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "If you don't mind, I promised my sister I'd take her out after school." Eddie's expression softened, and he reached out to gently take the helmet from her, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. "Alright, come on," He coaxed, motioning for her to follow him. They walked side by side through the now empty school hallways, their footsteps echoing off the linoleum floors.

Outside, the sun was beginning to dip, casting a warm golden glow over the parking lot. Eddie led her to his old, beat-up van parked in the far corner. He fished out his keys and unlocked the back doors with a practiced flick of his wrist. The doors creaked open, revealing a cluttered but organized space now void of all band equipment, Lyra's motorcycle securely attached and in tact. "She's all safe and sound, made sure to actually drive the speed limit last night," Eddie assured with a wink. "Hold this," Eddie continued, handing Lyra the helmet back as he climbed into the van. He moved a few things around, making space to pull out her bike. The van's interior was a chaotic mix of tools, spare parts, and random knick-knacks, yet everything had its place. The scent of motor oil and metal filled the air, a testament to Eddie's love for tinkering.

"You really shouldn't leave this with me. Who knows, maybe one day, I'm going to end up riding off into the sunset with it," He joked, flashing her a grin over his shoulder. His hands worked deftly, unhooking the straps that secured the bike. Lyra laughed, shaking her head. "Like I'd let you get that far," She retorted, watching as he carefully maneuvered the bike out of the van. She couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he handled it, his movements smooth and confident. The bike gleamed in the fading sunlight, a testament to Eddie's careful handling. Once the bike was out, Eddie handed it over to her, making sure it was steady before letting go. "There you go, all set," He said, dusting off his hands. “Thank you,” She breathed out hoping that Eddie could tell how grateful she was.

"I'm no stranger to family drama, glad I could help." He shrugged, melting under her stare, yet still portrayed his tough guy demeanor. He expected Lyra to immediately take off, yet to his surprise she leaned against the side of his van, her cerulean blue eyes locking with his chocolate doe ones. "So what's Hellfire?" Eddie looked at her as if she had grown two heads, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "It's only the most epic Dungeons & Dragons group in town," He explained, his voice tinged with excitement. The passion in his eyes was unmistakable as he continued, "We've got a campaign going that's been running for months now. It's intense, full of twists and turns. You should come by sometime and check it out." Lyra raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the unexpected revelation.

Her curiosity was piqued as she tried to imagine Eddie, the tough guy with a rebellious streak, immersed in a world of fantasy and adventure. The idea seemed almost surreal. "Dungeons & Dragons, huh?" Eddie smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Trust me, it's a blast," He assured, his voice filled with conviction. "We get together every Friday night, roll some dice, and dive into a world of fantasy and adventure. It's not the satanic cult this shit hole makes it out to be, but don't tell anyone. I've got a reputation to uphold." Lyra couldn't help but chuckle at his words. The image of Eddie, the so-called bad boy, passionately defending a game that involved imaginary worlds and mythical creatures, was both amusing and endearing.

“Sounds like you take it pretty seriously.” She remarked, her smile widening. "Oh, sweetheart you have no idea." Eddie chuckled, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea," he replied, his tone both playful and earnest. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's not just a game. It's an escape, a chance to be heroes, to face down dragons and save kingdoms." Taking her silence as judgement instead of admiration for his honesty, Eddie quickly backpedaled, his defense mechanisms on full alert. "Shit, I totally geeked out there, huh?" He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. Lyra was quick to shake her head.

"Not at all, if anything it's fascinating to see you so passionate about Hellfire. With all that enthusiasm, I bet you make an excellent Dungeon Master." Sanatic cult leader, Freak, the list went on. Nobody had ever described Hellfire as fascinating. "Wait," He paused taking a second for her previous words to sink in. "How do you know what a Dungeon Master is?" Lyra shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not as naive about D&D as you might think, Rockstar.” He quickly regained his composure, before Lyra could notice how much the damn nickname had affected him. “I’m certainly impressed and flattery works on me.” He grinned saccharinely playfully nudging her with his shoulder. Just as Lyra was about to retort she watched as the sky, which had been painted with hues of orange and pink, now looked like a storm was brewing, with ominous clouds rolling in.

The air grew cooler, and a slight breeze rustled the leaves around them. “You okay?” Eddie questioned, sensing a sense of déjà vu as he caught the worried expression on Lyra’s face. Almost as if it was second nature, Lyra reached out and grasped Eddie's arm gently, her eyes widening upon noticing the time. "Max is never this late, I'm going to go check on her." She thought aloud, anxiety flooding her body. "I'll go with you." Eddie offered, his concern evident in his voice. Lyra shook her head. "No, Eddie it's fine." She assured him, her tone firm yet appreciative. "I'll see you tomorrow." She promised, quickly mounting her motorcycle and trekking the short distance up the hill to Hawkins Middle. The sky grew darker, the ominous clouds hanging low and heavy. As she arrived at the field a few feet away from the school, the eerie silence was almost deafening.

Lyra dismounted her motorcycle and cautiously approached the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest. That's when she noticed a young boy, standing out in the middle of the field. "Hello," She called out, yet he didn't respond standing in the same rigid position. "Any chance you've seen a redhead girl on a skateboard around?" To her surprise he didn't reply, standing in the exact position, not moving a muscle. "Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?" The boy was far from okay. Immediately stepping closer Lyra noticed that his whole body was spasming, his eyes rolled back into his head. She reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on the boy’s shoulders. “Hey,” She coaxed gently so she wouldn’t spook him.

“Can you hear me?” She gasped, feeling his body shake more violently under her shoulders. "Will!" She heard someone call from behind her. Lyra glanced back at the boy in front of her, realizing this must be Will. His spasms were growing more intense as the seconds ticked by, his skin feeling unnaturally hot under her hand. Not even two seconds after, Lyra turned around to see a group of kids rushing towards her their faces etched with worry. She let out a breath of relief upon seeing Max alongside them. "I think he's having another episode." She overheard a raven haired boy exclaim, his voice tinged with panic. "I got him." Upon seeing the adult woman who looked like she could fall apart any minute, Lyra moved away from Will standing beside Max who immediately embraced her. Both sisters' eyes locked onto him, their hearts heavy with concern.

The group watched as Joyce Byers called out to her son, her voice wavering with a mix of hope and desperation. "Will," She coaxed, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him softly. But her touch felt distant, like a fading echo in the back of his mind. "Sweetie, wake up! It's Mom," She tried once more, her voice cracking with emotion. "Will, wake up! Can you hear me?" Joyce's voice cracked with desperation as she tried to reach her son her pleas growing more frantic with each passing second. Will's body continued to convulse, his limbs jerking uncontrollably each movement more violent than the last. "It's Mom. Please wake up! It's me!" Almost as if waking up from a trance, Lyra and the group watched as Will gasped, his eyes fluttering open. The sudden intake of breath seemed to pull him back from the edge of an unseen abyss.

Joyce did not hesitate for even a moment, wrapping her arms around her son in a fierce embrace, holding him so tightly as if he might disappear if she let go. "Thank goodness," Lyra muttered, letting out a breath she had been holding for what felt like an eternity. Her shoulders sagged with relief, the tension finally releasing from her body. The group around them began to relax, their worried expressions softening as they realized Will was safe, at least for now. The tension in the air dissipated slightly, replaced by a tentative sense of relief. Lyra scanned the faces around her, noticing the mix of curiosity and caution in their eyes. "Who are you?" A curly-haired boy asked, his gaze skeptical as he looked her up and down. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to discern her intentions.

“Dustin! That’s rude!” The dark-skinned boy standing next to him seethed through his teeth, his eyes darting between Lyra and the others. Before Lyra could find the words to introduce herself, Max stepped forward, her voice steady and confident. "This is my older sister, Lyra," She declared, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "Did you say Lyra?" The entire groups attention turned to Joyce who was now eyeing the blonde girl a sense of familiarity in her eyes. Her eyes softened, as if recalling a distant memory. "Yes ma'am, that's me," Lyra confirmed, her voice respectful yet firm. Joyce's face lit up with recognition. "My son, Jonathan, say's you're very helpful. Always there whenever he seems to find himself in trouble." The warmth in her words was palpable, and it was clear that Lyra had made a lasting impression.

"Happy to help." Lyra assured her, her voice warm and sincere. She offered a gentle smile, hoping to dissolve any remaining tension. "I'm Joyce, it's certainly nice to put a name to a face," Joyce replied, her tone softening as she tugged Will into her side protectively. Her eyes were filled with gratitude and a hint of relief. "Thank you for trying to help my boy." Lyra shook her head. "You don't need to thank me, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Joyce's eyes lingered on Lyra for a moment longer, as if she wanted to say more but couldn't find the words. She gave a small, appreciative nod instead. "Well, I should get Will home, it's getting late." Will looked up at his mother, then back at Lyra. "Take care, Will," Lyra called out with a kind smile. Joyce squeezed Will's shoulder, guiding him towards where she had parked.

"Ready to go?" Lyra asked Max, who, like the boys, had her eyes locked onto Joyce and Will. She noticed the slight tremor in Max's hands and the way her jaw clenched, subtle signs that she had been shaken up by the events. Hell, she was still trying to grasp what had just occurred herself. Max tore his gaze away from the departing figures and nodded. "Yeah, let's get out of here," She replied, her voice steady but quieter than usual. As they walked back to where her motorcycle was parked, Lyra’s gaze locked onto the boys she had just met. They were whispering among themselves, casting furtive glances in her direction. "Those boys giving you trouble?" Lyra asked, motioning over to the group.

They quickly huddled back together, their voices dropping to hushed tones as soon as they were out of hearing range. Max's face tightened, and she averted her eyes, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her helmet. "No," She replied quickly, but her voice lacked conviction. Lyra could tell something was off. Max's usual confident demeanor was replaced by a shadow of uncertainty. She wanted to tell Lyra what was actually happening, yet something seemed to be holding her back. Maybe it was fear, or perhaps she didn't fully understand the situation herself. The tension in the air was palpable, and Lyra's protective instincts kicked in. "Alright," Lyra muttered softly, giving Max a reassuring smile. "Let's get out of here." She revved the engine, the powerful vibrations coursing through her body. As they sped away, the wind whipped through their hair, carrying away the unease of the moment.

half the time people saying that they want more queer rep in stranger things are the ones actively harming the queer community by : disregarding robin who is a lesbian, making robin’s arcs all about the younger teens, forcing a lesbian teenager to be a ‘gay mentor’ and putting pressure on teens to have themselves figured out and make it seem like their value only matters to help others out and let others stomp all over their sexuality, villianze a heavily bi coded character who is in love with robin, making characters always have crushes on people who have never once looked their way or shows annoyance to said character all the time, actively harming the actors and putting pressure on them to ‘come out’ or actively threatening them all because they come in the way of your ship.

Literally!!!

crying why does robin always get out together with characters that she has never even expressed a crush on? but the person that she does have a crush on who likes her back is the one that people love to villianze?

Okay facts

for a show’s fandom that wants queer representation y’all suck at understanding anything that isn’t being gay and lesbian

i see a lot of posts saying that they don’t vibe with canon but honestly i don’t vibe with fanon most of the time

Ty Ty

i want to get rid of the phrase ‘fruity four’ and ‘spicy six’ in the st fandom

REAL SHIT

guys i need you to be less comfortable making super negative comments abt a character in the tags of a random post abt that character. like i support haterism but make your own post. please stop and think about whether op, a person who is interested in this character enough to make posts abt them, wants to hear all that. i see this too much from people reblogging from me and it makes me embarrassed that you’re reblogging from me. you are being rude

Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Will Byers & Eleven | Jane & Dustin Henderson & Maxine Mayfield & Lucas Sinclair & Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler Characters: Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Karen Wheeler, mentioned jonathan byers at the end Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Mike Wheeler, the party is 15, will is very upset and confused, Mike Wheeler Needs a Hug, POV Multiple, Trans Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Trans Lucas Sinclair, Everyone is Queer, Will Byers Has PTSD, karen wheeler is important to the story here, i swear to god i know what i'm doing, Eleven | Jane Hopper Needs a Hug, Break Up, Autistic Eleven | Jane Hopper, non verbal el hopper, will byers has amnesia from the upside down, Mystery, not really - Freeform, too much lore, Sorry Not Sorry, Fluff and Angst, Slow Updates, Grief/Mourning, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, no beta we die like lonnie byers Series: Part 3 of the only truth i know is you Summary:

when you find out twelve thousand, four hundred and fifty three days have passed, a lot feels sickeningly old. dealing with such a fact is not something a single person in the household is ready to deal with.

your top 5 favourite st friendships?

currently canon?

lumax, jancy, duzie, jopper.... well.

not canon?

byler, ronance, rovickie, elumax, elmax