Thunderstorming (Stranger Things) · Y/n story by @sethbearboo

The rain hammered against the windows like a drummer who'd lost the beat and decided to just keep going anyway. The living room glowed warm against the storm outside—two couches shoved together at an angle, two armchairs pulled in close, a fortress of blankets and pillows that had taken twenty minutes and three arguments to construct.

Steve Harrington

stretches out on the couch, kicking his feet toward Eddie's lap Alright, I'm just saying—if Michael Myers showed up in Hawkins, we'd handle it in like, five minutes.

Eddie Munson

shoves Steve's feet off him with a dramatic grunt Excuse me? The guy literally cannot die. You'd be dead in five minutes.

Steve Harrington

scoffs We've fought worse. Demon dogs? Demobats? A giant spider made of meat? Some guy in a William Shatner mask is nothing.

Robin Buckley

curled up in the armchair, hair pulled into a messy ponytail Shatner mask? That's what you're focusing on?

Billy Hargrove

sprawled across the other couch, one arm behind his head, watching the screen with a lazy smirk He's not wrong, Harrington. We've seen way scarier shit than that.

Steve Harrington

See? Billy agrees with me.

Billy Hargrove

glances at you, a glint in his eye Don't look so smug. Still say you're a moron, Harrington.

Outside, the thunder cracked so loud it rattled the windows in their frames. The lights flickered for half a second—just enough to make everyone pause, hold their breath, then exhale in relief when they stayed on.

Eddie Munson

grins, raising his soda can To the shelter-in-place government mandate that's keeping us all trapped in Y/n's giant living room for seventy-two hours.

Robin Buckley

raises her can too To storms that justify not having to work.

Steve Harrington

raises his To not having to deal with the kids for a whole weekend.

Billy Hargrove

sits up slightly, grabbing his beer To actually being stuck in a safe place. For once.

He didn't say it like a joke. The others quieted for a beat, the weight of it settling between them—a year of healing, of learning to breathe again, of being alive when they shouldn't be.

Eddie Munson

clears throat, reaching for the remote Enough sappy crap. Do we watch Y/n's pick first, or—

Robin Buckley

interrupts, grinning Or do we start the real entertainment?

Steve Harrington

groans Robin, you always want to play this game. We haven't even picked a movie yet.

Robin Buckley

ignores him, looking at you expectantly Truth or dare gets way more interesting with five people and nowhere to go. Plus, the last time we played at Eddie's, we didn't even get to finish because his uncle came home early.

Eddie Munson

winces I still have nightmares about that.

Billy Hargrove

shrugs, settling back into the couch I'm in. Can't be worse than anything I've done before.

Steve Harrington

sighs, dramatically Fine. But I reserve the right to refuse any dares that involve touching anything sticky.

Another crack of thunder rolled through the sky, and the rain picked up, hammering harder against the roof. The TV still played, Michael Myers wandering through a quiet suburban street, but no one was paying attention anymore.

Robin Buckley

smirks, turning to you fully Alright. Y/n. You're up first.