Fairyrona
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“’Morning,” Mike grumbled, voice low from sleep.
“Noon,” Max corrected, as if she hadn’t only woken up thirty minutes before him.
“Wow,” he replied, squinting at the light. “Nobody thought to wake me?”
It happened casually after that, so casually it almost didn’t register at first. El laughed at something Lucas said, then turned toward Mike and leaned in, instinctively, easily, pressing a kiss to his lips like it was the most logical way to say good morning to him.
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or: Mike and Will have been together for a year and a half when El comes back. The problem is, El assumes she and Mike are still together. The bigger problem is that Mike doesn’t realize Will thinks he might choose her.
Bookmarked by Fairyrona
26 Feb 2026
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MOTHERFUVKEEEERTTTTTTRRRRR I JIST WOKE UUUPPPPPPPPPPP IT HURTS SO GOOD
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Tell Me I’m the worst (Tell Me You’ll Love Me Anyway) by Lunar_lily
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
25 Feb 2026
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“You’re the one who kissed me!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Mike shouted back, his voice booming across the apartment. The words landed like a slap. Will’s heart dropped, and he didn’t know to pick it back up.“Look, I—” Mike ran a hand through his hair, pacing.
“Get out.” Will was already moving toward the door, hand on the knob. He needed Mike gone before he said something irreversible—before the words spilled out sharp and unforgiving.
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After defeating Vecna, the party agreed to host a get-together every other month, rotating between them. It worked—until the first letter arrived at Will’s dorm, love, Mike scribbled along the edge.
So Will told himself he was over Mike. Over reading into every word, every pause, every letter. With every gathering and every exchanged letter, the tension tightened, coiling toward something inevitable.
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Mike is waiting for Will in the basement, a look of suspicious, nervous excitement on his face. He cleared the table and laid out upon it are two card games.
"Now, I know you’ll resist," Mike blurts out, stepping toward him. "But I think this will be good. For both of us! For when we... you know,” Mike trails off, “When we get partners.”
Will scoffs, stepping closer to inspect the titles.
Spill or Sip and Truth, Dare, or Strip.
Or: Mike suggests a spicy card game to help Will loosen up before college. It works a little too well, and suddenly they’re gambling with unresolved feelings, and clothes, that were meant to stay in place.
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In the summer of 1989, the Byers family moves to Montauk, cutting short Mike and Will's last summer together before college. Certain he'll never see his friend again, Will confesses his love on their last night together, rocking Mike's world entirely. As the tear-filled goodbyes draw to a close, however, Mike is suddenly offered the unexpected opportunity to travel with the Byers family and help them move.
They have five days out of state together to address Will's confession, learn to communicate, and maybe, just maybe, say a few things they should have said all along.
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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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