SEASON THREE BROKEN RECORD

SEASON THREE ➩ BROKEN RECORD

Eddie Munson x OC!Fem!Reader

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

chapters coming soon …

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 …

ICEBOUND DEVOTION

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader || WC: 1.8k

SUMMARY: a case involving a couple of hockey players makes Spencer doubt if you deserve better.

WARNINGS: established relationship, typical criminal minds level violence, mild angst, talks of blood and gore

A/N: i’ve been on a criminal minds kick lately, especially Spencer sooo this came to mind especially with it being hockey season very soon! Hope y’all enjoy! This is my first work on tumblr and I’m pretty proud of it! Graphic divider is from @firefly-graphics <3

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“Good morning my beautiful people!” The cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rang out throughout the conference room. “I hope my presence brought you some comfort because this one’s a real doozy.” She grimaced, taking a breath before displaying the BAU’s latest case on the screen.

“Twenty-two-year-old Bryce Carter from Detroit, Michigan, was found dead in the men’s locker room by one of his fellow hockey teammates. Detroit police said that poor Bryce Carter was bludgeoned to death by his own hockey skate and that his hockey stick was lodged into both of his legs.” She closed her eyes in utter disbelief as the words left her mouth.

“Bludgeoned to death by a skate and having his hockey stick lodged into his legs, that’s clear overkill,” Derek pointed out. “This Unsub has some clear anger issues.” You chimed in grimacing at the bloody crime scene photos in front of you.

Spencer adjusted his glasses and added, “The use of the hockey equipment as murder weapons could indicate a personal vendetta. The unsub might have a deep connection to the sport or even to Bryce himself. Hockey skates are incredibly sharp and can cause significant damage, while the force required to lodge a hockey stick into someone’s legs suggests immense rage.”

JJ nodded, “We should look into Bryce’s personal relationships, both on and off the ice. Any recent conflicts or unusual behavior from teammates or rivals?”

Rossi leaned back in his chair and mused, “You know, hockey is a sport where tempers can flare easily. We might be looking at someone who snapped in the heat of the moment. But the brutality of this attack suggests it’s more than just a moment of rage.”

Kate added, “We should also consider the possibility of a fan or someone from outside the team. Hockey fans can be incredibly passionate, sometimes to the point of obsession. If Bryce had a stalker or an overly enthusiastic fan, that could be another angle.”

Hotch stood up, “All of you have great points. Garcia, I want you to gather all the information you can on Bryce’s teammates, coaches, and anyone else connected to the team. We need to understand the dynamics at play here. As for the rest of you, we’ll discuss each and every one of your theories with more depth on the jet. Wheels up in thirty.”

As the team dispersed to start their investigation, you couldn’t help but feel a chill run down you spine. “Hey,” Spencer coaxed noticing your stiff demeanor. “We’re going to solve this just like all the others.” He reassured, squeezing you into one of his bone crushing hugs. This case was definitely going to be a tough one.

Arriving in Michigan, the cold air instantly bit at your cheeks as you stepped out of the car. The city was alive with the spirit of hockey, banners and posters of the local team adorning every corner.

As directed by Hotch, you and JJ were to go down to the ice rink and interrogate all of Bryce’s teammates, coaches, and even standby staff and fans whom were present.

Inside, the sound of skates slicing through ice and the thud of pucks hitting the boards filled the air. The players noticed your presence almost immediately and skated over, their expressions a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

“Alright, gentlemen,” you began pulling out your credentials alongside JJ, your tone firm but fair, "My name is SSA Y/N Y/L/N and this is SSA Jennifer Jareau, we need to go over a few things from the other day. We have some questions that need answers regarding your teammate Bryce Carter.”

One of the players, a tall blonde guy with a stern face, skated forward. “What do you want to know?” JJ took out her notebook, her eyes scanning the group. “We need to understand your whereabouts on the night of the incident. Any detail, no matter how small, could be helpful.”

The players exchanged glances before another spoke up. “We were all at the rink, practicing late. After that, we went to Joe’s Bar. You can check with the bartender.”

You nodded, watching JJ jot down the information. “We will. But we also need to know if any of you had any contact with the victim prior to the incident." You took a second, a question quickly emerging. "Why wasn't Bryce at the bar with you guys? After all he was found here by the night janitor."

The tall player whom you and JJ quickly noticed was the alpha male of the group frowned. “Look, we didn’t have anything to do with it. We’re just here to play hockey. As for Bryce, he was too good to go out drinking with the rest of us.”

JJ"s gaze was steady. “We understand that, but we need to cover all our bases. If there’s anything else you remember, now is the time to speak up.”

As you continued the questioning, you noticed a few of the players exchanging smirks and glances specifically towards you. One of them, a guy with a charming smile and tousled brown hair, skated closer to you. “So, Agent, how long are you in town for?”

Before you could respond, another player chimed in, “Yeah, maybe you can catch one of our games. We could use some good luck from someone like you.” He smirked looking at you up and down shamelessly.

JJ raised an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed. “We’re here to work, not to watch games.” You stepped in, refocusing the conversation. “Alright, enough. We’re here to solve a case, not to make friends. If you remember anything else, contact us immediately.”

The players nodded, their flirtatious demeanor never fading, in fact they were only encouraged as you handed them your card . You and JJ exchanged a glance, knowing that despite the distractions, you were one step closer to finding the truth.

You could not be happier arriving at the station, following JJ to the makeshift conference room the Detroit Sheriff's station had kindly offered. "Here they come." Rossi greeted being the first to notice your return. "Welcome back." Kate smiled. "Glad to be back." JJ huffed making you nod in agreement.

"How many muscled hockey players were checking you both out?" Derek teased despite knowing that you and Spencer had been in a committed relationship for almost three years and that JJ was happily married with two sons.

"I don't know Morgan, I was there for work." You emphasized dropping your body in the seat next to Spencer whom was working the geographical profile. It was almost like your body was on autopilot, unconsciously leaning towards his like a magnet.

"Good job you two." Hotch praised turning from the evidence board he was working on. "Garcia was able to find two more victims who were also bludgeoned by skates and pierced with hockey sticks."

Spencer looked up from his work, giving you a reassuring smile. "It looks like we're starting to see a pattern here. These new victims might help us narrow down the suspect pool." You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

"That's good news. The sooner we can catch this guy, the better." Hotch continued, "We need to cross-reference the new victims with our existing list and see if there are any common connections. Garcia is already on it." He suddenly glanced at his watch noticing how late it was.

"You know what, team? Let's call it a night," Hotch decided. "We can come back refreshed in the morning and tackle this with clear minds." Everyone in the room visibly relaxed at the prospect of some much-needed rest.

As you stood up, Spencer gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "We'll get him," He said softly, his eyes full of reassurance. You nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "Yeah, we will." Finally getting a moment alone since landing in Michigan, Spencer turned his attention towards you.

“You seem drained, were the interrogations that bad?” You shrugged slinging your bag over your tense shoulder. “Just like any normal interrogation except I think I had enough testosterone for one day.” 

Smiling you leaned against him, “I don’t know about you but I’m ready for a nice warm shower and some room service. How does that sound?” You knew something was wrong the second Spencer did not respond to that. He cherished every opportunity the two of you had a cozy night in with you. It didn't take a profiler to know that Morgan's earlier comments had gotten to him.

Spencer simply stood there, his eyes clouded with doubt, his mind plagued with thoughts of inferiority. He imagined seeing you surrounded by confident, charismatic guys, and it made him question his worth. You could immediately sense his unease, and it broke you heart to see him like this.

Determined to erase his doubts, you stepped closer, gently placing you hands on his shoulders. "Spencer, I can hear you thinking from here," You whispered, voice soft but firm, "There's no one better than you. You're it for me." Before he could respond, you leaned in, lips meeting his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

You made sure to pour your heart and soul into that kiss, letting him feel the depth of your love and commitment. Your lips moved against his with a gentle insistence, conveying all the emotions you couldn't put into words. You could feel his initial hesitation, but as the kiss deepened, he began to relax, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer.

Smiling into the kiss, your fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close, as if to say, "You're the only one for me." Each movement of your lips was a reassurance, a promise that no one else could ever take his place in your heart. When you both finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, looking into his honey-hued eyes that had you smitten since day one.

"Spencer," you said softly, "You are everything to me. Don't ever doubt that." His eyes softened, the shadows of doubt fading away. Just as he was about to reassure you that he was okay and that he'd never let Derek Morgan get in his head again, he noticed an unmistaken group of hockey players walk out of the station, completely defeated.

Spencer turned to you completely confounded. “You planned this.” You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Come on, pretty boy, I think they got the message loud and clear.” Grinning, Spencer nodded and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer, indulging in another kiss just because.  

The hockey players exchanged glances, their earlier bravado now replaced with a sense of unease. Spencer's hand tightened around yours as he whispered, “I guess we showed them, huh?” You chuckled, “Yeah, we sure did. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

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

➩ Series:

Collateral Hearts

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

➩ One Shots:

↳ coming soon …

CHAPTER 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.

He’s such a gorgeous human being 🥵😚

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