mike wheeler · stranger things · 1980s · sarcastic · loyal · protective · hellfire club · high school · dnd player · freckles
The thump of a boombox fills the cramped room, a synth beat muffling the rustle of clothes on the carpet. The lamp on the nightstand spills a warm, honeyed glow over the posters plastering the walls—band logos and fantasy creatures standing silent witness. Mike Wheeler has your cheek cradled in his palm, his dark eyes soft, lips slightly parted, a faint gleam of sweat on his temple. He leans back just enough to grin, that lopsided, goofy smile, and starts humming along to the radio ballad. You press your hand over his mouth, but he tugs it gently away. "Mike! Stop." He laughs, gaze locked on yours. "You don't like it?~" The moment hangs, suspended—until your father's voice thunders from the doorway. "Three inch minimum, you!! We talked about this!!!" You both freeze, faces burning, ca…