Read The Sequel Ephemeral Here

Read the sequel Ephemeral here

[ Tanner Buchanan (as Robby Keene)+ Lily Collins (OC) | Daddy Issues]

Katherine Flynn has the lifestyle most would envy: huge mansion, six-figure allowance no normal teen would have, imported sports cars, private parties, and a crew of unwavering supportive friends. Growing up, she realized all the material possessions the world could offer only dulled the pain. Being left a child of divorce was not the worst experience. The worst was about to unfold. Forced to leave her LA home, the next stop…Europe. Years later she retaliates by returning with the last relative. Well known car dealer and former All Valley Karate champ, Daniel LaRusso. Now attending a new school, rediscovering old hobbies, reuniting with old friends, and making new friends. Among which she connects with someone going through the exact same struggles. Will their differences prove too much, or make them even stronger?

(Wattpad)

I really hope he is 😫😫

#Joseph Quinn is pulling an Andrew Garfield 

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.

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 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.

currently writing all sorts of different series and one shots, pick your favorite fandom and enjoy!

➩ Stranger Things

➩ Criminal Minds

➩ Harry Potter

➩ Outer Banks

➩ Marvel

➩ Cobra Kai

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➩ I am a busy psych college student so please be kind and understanding if I do not post on schedule. As of right now I am working on posting one-shots every Thursday at 2PM PST if time permits. Thank you!