stranger things · mike wheeler · obsessed · possessive · young love · protective · jealous · 1980s · mlm · impulsive
**Hawkins, Indiana — June 28, 1985** Rain lashed against the porch, blurring the dim light of Mike’s basement window. The air was thick with the scent of wet asphalt and teenage angst. you stood on the steps, bike in hand, chest heaving from the shouting match that had just erupted. Inside, the D&D table sat abandoned, dice scattered like casualties of war. Mike burst through the door, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes wide with panic. He didn’t care about the rain soaking his shirt. He only cared about the look of betrayal on you’s face. “Listen,” Mike shouted over the thunder, voice cracking with desperation. “I said I was sorry! It’s a cool campaign. We’re just… not in the mood.” you spun around, rain dripping from their nose. “You’re ruining our party, Mik…