Multifan
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“Come on,” the alpha says. He tilts his head towards the water as Jimin gapes at him with fear in his eyes. “Get in.”
Tonight Jimin listens.
Whether because of the humid heat clouding the air or the insomnia induced delirium or something else entirely, Jimin's feet take tiny steps until he stands at the edge of the bath. The tip of his toes get dangerously close to dipping in, just needing to take one last step. The alpha’s eyes watch his every move, scanning down his body with rapt attention.
“Go on,” the alpha says, voice dripping with deep richness.
Jimin—for reasons he fails to understand—listens. His body carries him, slowly sauntering down the steps and into the hot water without thinking it over any longer. Something about it feels helpless and uncontrollable, making him itchy inside. He pushes it down.
“Good little omega.”
The alpha’s words make sparks tingle in his veins and acid climb up his throat, the conflicting combination of sensations confusing. He hates how something inside of him almost… likes it.
After being rescued from an oppressive pack with strict rules and outdated traditions, Jimin starts his life life anew in the Jeon pack.
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I never ever felt so cool (disguised in your sheets) by wheezingwheeler
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
16 Jan 2026
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A post-canon (with some small tweaks) road trip full of tension, nightmares, gay panic, and a very long drive toward the truth.
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Will just wanted to bring his brother home. He didn’t plan on sharing motel beds, surviving Mike Wheeler’s jealousy spiral, or confronting feelings he’s spent years burying.
Mike thinks Will likes girls.
Will thinks Mike will never love him back.
Both of them are wrong.Or
Water dripped from Will's hair, ran down his jaw, caught on his lips.
Mike stared at it.
Stared like he'd forgotten where he was.
Then, slowly he lifted a towel and pressed it gently to Will's mouth, wiping the water away. His hand didn't even shake. He was steady.
Will's breath stuttered. Tingles tremored all the way up his spine.
He didn't move. He couldn't. He was too aware of Mike's hand, of the way his eyes kept dropping back to his lips.
That look again.
The one Will had seen a dozen times now and never understood.
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stay with me, hold my hand, there's no need to be brave by allthisandheaven_too
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
15 Feb 2026
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“Daddy, wake up,” she pleaded. “You’re having a bad dream. Please wake up.”
Will’s head turned then, slowly, and it was hard for Rose to understand how he still couldn’t actually see her, when it felt like he was staring straight through her eyes and directly to the back of her skull. “Rose,” he rasped, and her blood crystallized in her veins. This was not her father’s honey-sweet voice. It sounded like gravel running through a rock tumbler. And he never, ever called her just Rose, unless she was in big trouble. “You need to run. NOW.”
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Five-year-old Rose Maldonado is not afraid of anything. Until one night in early November when she stumbles upon her sleepwalking father having a horrible nightmare, and her parents realize it might be time to start telling their daughter the truth about what happened to them back in November 1983.
(ft. an extensive flashback of elmike platonic besties addressing the total bs final battle in a way that turns it into byler proof, because screw the duffers!!!!! you're in MY house now!!!!!!!!!)
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- Part 1 of the rosieverse
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“Why do you laugh?” Mike the Brave asked. The question was utterly sincere. He could not fathom the source of the mockery, of why Mike would be laughing at his display of fealty.
Mike spluttered, his face flushing. “I—It’s just… you only got him a book off the shelf? That’s your big ‘honour to serve’ moment? It’s just… a book.” He gestured vaguely, defensively, at the book, embarrassed.
Will the Wise’s lips curved into a smile tinged with sorrow. He looked from the flustered boy to his own beloved protector, his hand reaching up to stroke his Paladin’s cheek.
“He has crossed realms for me,” Will the Wise said, his melodic voice filling the cottage. “He has faced beasts and shadows and the silence of the abyss. He would do anything for me, and I for him. The grand quests are written in songs and psalms, sung by revellers around fires and bards in the inn. But the story of us… it is written in these small things. In a fetched book, a mended cloak, a tender kiss in the dawn light.” He looked directly at the younger Mike, his gaze piercingly kind. “We like to remind each other of our affections. In every possible way. There is no deed too small to be an act of love.”
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