dck_no_i
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Summary
Will Byers doesn’t consider himself brave. He considers himself a HD student with a low tolerance for vodka and a talent for leaving early. But bravery, it turns out, isn’t always loud. Sometimes it's handed out like permission slips at crowded college parties: permission to drink too much vodka, to flirt badly, and take a hit from someone else’s cola flavoured vape.
Or; College AU, Will "Ivy League" Byers/Mike "Teenage Dirtbag" Wheeler
(Vodka bottle fic)
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Summary
Dustin and Lucas were on night watch so it’s just him and Mike in the room. Having fallen asleep early, both tired from the supply run they were on earlier today, Will passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow only to be woken up a couple of hours later to pressure on his ass.
It took a moment to orientate himself. Used to waking up to noise and vibration but not touch. He was pressed up tight to the wall like usual, which usually gave him inches of space between himself and Mike. But not right now.
Because Mike had scootched across the bed and was spooning Will from behind. His bare chest pressed alongside Wills exposed back, one arm slung over his waist as he mumbled into the back of his head.
Will’s about to ask Mike what was going on when he felt it. The consistent thrusting of Mike’s hips against the swell of his bum. His words die in his mouth as he registered that Mike was asleep. Soft moans spilled from his lips and the hard pressure of his dick stuttered against Will.
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Summary
Mike, son of the town's priest, a devoted catholic, was tempted. The temptress—the angelic devil, too beautiful to resist. He sinned.
But he found an angel in the process, so maybe it wasn’t all that bad.
Series
- Part 1 of Pray Until the Church Burns
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Summary
“Do you know how hard it is to watch you with them? To see their hands all over you?” He squeezed ever so slightly, and Will let out a quiet whimper. “Sometimes, when you had guys over, I’d listen. I’d hear you moan, and I’d touch myself and imagine it was me making you sound like that,” he whispered, pressing a kiss behind Will’s ear. Will’s eyes fluttered shut, and he could practically feel them rolling to the back of his head as he imagined it: Mike fucking into his own fist, thinking about Will getting fucked on the other side of the wall. Will hated him for not saying anything.
Will rolled his hips forward, a strangled moan falling from his lips. The grip on his throat tightened, and Mike’s other hand grabbed at his thigh, digging into his flesh through the jeans. Will stilled instantly. Mike made a content noise before his loosened his hold, trailing his lips along Will’s jaw. “You moan like a slut, Will. So I’m gonna fuck you like one.”
OR
the hate sex fic
Series
- Part 1 of hate sex
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Summary
The lasagna’s still steaming when Will lowers himself in his chair, finding his place around the dinner table. They’re all here.
And then there’s Mike. Who sits directly across from him. Mike who glances up at him. Mike who nudges his foot between his thighs under the table.
Or,
Where Mike fucks Will on the D&D table (and against the basement door.)