ROMANTIC: Mike [1] - masc!reader (he/him)

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You couldn't believe the turn of events, how disastrous things were becoming. And it's all my fault! you screamed angrily in your head, because how else could you say it? Definitely not aloud.

The weekend started out good: You invited everyone over to your house for a group hangout, which was going to be a sleepover. You got the movie — Rocky III — started; this specific movie had to be played because Will, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin begged to because some of you — some of you being Max, El, and you — hadn't seen it yet. They claimed it was "a classic." So you guys took their word for it, made three bowls of popcorn, and spread out around the couch with blankets draped across us, trying to spread out the bowls evenly.

Mike and Eleven sat at the very left of the couch, his armed wrapped around her shoulders and her legs resting onto his. You sat right beside them, basically third wheeling; it made you feel awful. Beside me sat Will, then Dustin, then Lucas, then Max. Of course the remaining couple was cuddled up against each other as well. You and Will had exchanged glances, rolled our eyes, and tried to focus on the movie.

You attempted to ignore the jealousy coursing through your veins at the sight of Mike smiling at El at the funny parts of the movie, grinning at her when she giggled. It made you sick. How could he just sit there being so good to her when he had practically shut you completely out his life, like you were a nobody? You used to be his best friend, but now, all he's concerned about is how his stupid girlfriend feels. Well, you love El! But her relationship with him makes you want to hit yourself in the head with Steve's bat.

Somewhere towards the end of the movie, Mike happened to notice a jealous look cross your face at the sight of him kissing her cheek. So, like the bitch he is, he had to point it out indirectly, saying, "What's wrong with you?"

It caught the attention of everyone, but some chose to ignore it, keeping their eyes on the screen, most likely hoping that this would die down and not turn into a blow-out. Yes, you two had frequent arguments, but sometimes they were just rude words exchanged before deciding to ignore each other. This time, you weren't going to let him get away doing all this shit to you. You didn't care if you were having a sleepover; they can all go home.

And now, everyone had left — except you and Mike. Normally, you'd have cared about the looks that they gave you as they creeped out the door, shutting it slowly behind them, but right now, the only thing you were focused on was Mike's face. It was red, almost purple, from running out of breath because he was screaming at you. You tried to keep your cool, tried to explain that you weren't jealous that El was "stealing Mike away from you and all yours friends," tried to tell him that you don't hate El... but he didn't listen. He never listens. At least, not when he doesn't want to. Whatever you say goes from one ear and out the other when it's not exactly what he wants to hear; either that, or gets twisted into something you would have never even muttered.

"I don't get what's with you!" he hollered, poking his finger in your chest. "Why are you always in such a bad mood now? You were never like this before!"

You hit his finger away from your chest. You wanted to scream back an explanation, something like, Because you made me this way! Something that would get him to finally listen. You wanted to scream literally anything, because for some reason, you always felt you needed to explain yourself to him, to others. But now, looking at his face, for the first time ever, you sat down and started crying. You've never cried in front of anyone before. Even when you're alone, you've resisted it. It's looked down upon: "Boy's don't cry! Man up!" "Don't be such a wimp!"

But you couldn't take it anymore. All the hurt, pain, and anger built up inside you had to be let out, or you'd be punching the wall. Or Mike.

Through your hands in which you had put your face, you could see Mike's shoes in front of you, unmoving. You wanted to see how he was reacting to this, but you just shut your eyes tight and felt more tears rush down your cheeks.

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