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lefteagleblizzard · 10 months ago

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𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: At the lodge, your friendly chat with Matt sparks Mike's jealousy. In the woods, he finally confesses his feelings, igniting a passionate connection between you and him, culminating months of hidden desire.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Oblivious reader. Friends to lovers. Jealousy. Emily is hostile to the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Smut out in the open. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Blowjob (r giving). Anal sex.

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Words count: 4500

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The cold mountain air bit at your skin as you trudged up the snow-covered road toward the lodge. A chill ran through you, and you tugged your jacket tighter, glancing around at the quiet landscape. Your boots crunched softly against the thick blanket of snow with each step.

You didn't hear it at first, but you felt a presence behind you and soon two large, warm hands suddenly covered your eyes. You froze for a split second, your heart leaping into your throat as a familiar voice whispered in your ear, low and teasing.

"Guess who?"

For a second, you were caught off guard and frightened, but then, just as quickly, you let yourself relax, recognizing the rough feel of his calloused hands, the deep timbre of his voice, and the warmth radiating from his body as he stood close behind you. His chest was almost touching your back.

Mike.

Of course, it was Mike.

You sighed, half-exasperated, half-amused, and leaned back slightly against his chest, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. With a gentle push, you pried his hands away from your eyes and spun around to face him.

"Real subtle" you said, shaking your head as you met his eyes.

He chuckled, his breath visible in the cold air. "Hey, it worked, didn't it? You jumped, so I won."

"You're an idiot," you retorted, though your tone was more playful than annoyed.

Mike shrugged, his grin widening. "Yeah, but I'm your favorite idiot”

You shot him a quick glance, unsure if you'd imagined the shift in his tone, but the playful grin on his face remained, as if daring you to respond.

"You really are full of yourself, huh?" you teased, hoping to mask the sudden warmth blooming in your chest.

Mike grinned wider, clearly unfazed. "Someone's gotta be, right? Besides, it's fun getting reactions out of you."

"Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts," you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your heart was racing.

Mike chuckled again, his tone softening as his gaze lingered on you. "You look good, by the way," he said, almost offhandedly. "Really good."

You opened your mouth to respond but faltered for a moment, unsure how to take the compliment without overanalyzing it.

"Thanks," you muttered, trying to play it cool. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Not so bad?" Mike echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, I know I look better than 'not so bad’ “

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn't stop the grin from spreading across your face. "Okay, fine. You look good, Monroe."

He flashed you a cocky grin, clearly pleased with himself. "That's more like it." His voice was smooth, laced with the kind of playfulness he always reserved for you. He was standing closer than usual, his gaze unwavering. You cleared your throat, trying to break the tension.

"So, how are things with Emily?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

Mike's smirk faltered for just a second, he ran a hand through his hair, glancing away before looking back at you. "We broke up."

You blinked, surprised. "Oh... I didn't know. Sorry."

You had already an idea of why it might have happened.

"Nah, don't be," he said with a casual shrug, though there was a heaviness in his tone that betrayed his words. "It wasn't working out."

The ease in his voice didn't quite match the tightness in his jaw, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of guilt for bringing it up.

"Besides," he added, stepping a little closer, "I'm single now."

His voice was low, almost suggestive.

He glanced at you, trying to gauge your reaction. A part of him wanted to see something, anything in your expression that hinted you cared about his relationship status, that maybe you were glad he was no longer with Emily. He didn't know if he could ever tell you how much he'd thought about you while he was with her.lo

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne mixing with the crisp mountain air. There was something about the way he was looking at you that made your pulse race and your thoughts blur.

You both continued talking, light and casual conversations together and Mike's thoughts were only on you. How good you looked standing there, snowflakes clinging to your hair, your cheeks flushed from the cold. How amazing it felt when you'd leaned back against him earlier, even if it was just for a second. He'd wanted to hold you there, to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

He caught himself glancing at your lips more than once, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you right here, right now, in the middle of the snowy mountain. To show you, finally, how much he cared, how perfect things could be between the two of you if you'd just let h

But he hadn't said anything yet. Not because he didn't want to, but because... well, because he wasn't sure how you felt. He'd never seen you with anyone else. Sure, you were always friendly, always laughing, but he didn't know if that meant anything more.

So, instead of saying what he really wanted to, Mike kept the conversation light, teasing you, making you laugh and you shot back with your own sarcastic retorts.

Eventually the moon was already high in the sky and it got dark really quickly. You started making your way up to the lodge together, racing on who could arrive first.

When you both arrived at the lodge, the warmth of the fire greeted you, along with the sound of your friends chatting and getting settled in

Mike scanned the room, spotting a seat on the couch. He dropped down into it, stretching his arms out, hoping—praying—that you'd sit next to him. It was still cold, and having you close would have been perfect.

"Come on," he called, patting the empty spot next to him. "I saved you a seat."

You rolled your eyes, shrugging off your coat and getting rid of the snow stuck in your hair. "How generous."

"Hey, I don't offer my couch space to just anyone," he replied with a wink. "Consider yourself special."

You shook your head, laughing softly as you made your way toward him. But just as you were about to sit down, you noticed Matt struggling to carry a mountain of bags. One of the suitcases slipped from his grasp, and without thinking, you stepped over to help him, bending down to pick it up.

"Thanks, man," Matt said with a sheepish grin, adjusting the rest of the bags. "I swear, Emily packed like we're staying for a month."

You chuckled, handing him the suitcase. "No problem. Need any more help?"

"Nah, I think I've got it now," Matt replied. "But I appreciate it. How was the drive up here?" Matt asked, shifting one of the bags in his arms. "Did you come up with anyone?”

"Nah, I came up solo," you replied, shrugging. "It was a nice drive though, peaceful"

"Yeah, I get that. I bet it's nice to have some quiet," Matt said, nodding in agreement. "Emily barely let me get a word in the whole ride. Nonstop talking."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Sounds like a nightmare."

The two of you exchanged a few more words, just casual small talk. Mike' eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange, his jaw tightening. You were talking to Matt, laughing with him, and it bothered him more than he was willing to admit.

The way you smiled at him and the way Matt's eyes lingered on you made Mike's blood boil.

He sat back on the couch, his arms spread out across the cushions, his body language as casual as he could manage.

His fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest, the cold air from outside still lingering in the room, but the warmth of the fire did little to chase away the chill in Mike's mood. He wanted to be near you. Hell, he wanted you sitting next to him right now, your body close to his. The couch had more than enough room, and he'd made sure to stretch out, hoping you'd notice and join him. But instead you kept chatting up with Matt.

It wasn't fair. How could you not see what was happening? How could you not see how much it bothered him? How much did he wanted you? He had spent the whole walk up to the lodge teasing and flirting, practically laying his feelings bare, and yet you were there, caught up in conversation and acting the same way you did with him.

Matt's hand lingered just a little too long as he reached out to take the suitcase back from you and Mike's fingers curled into fists, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his cool.

"So, are you thinking about moving soon?" Matt asked, setting the bags down all together in a spot. "Or are you staying put for a while?"

"I've been thinking about it," you said, nodding. "It'd be nice to have a little more space, you know?"

Mike's grip on the couch tightened, his knuckles turning white. Moving? Why hadn't you mentioned that to him? And why the hell were you telling Matt about it?

Matt smiled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I get that. More space is always nice. Have you thought about getting a roommate?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Maybe, but for now, I'm good with my own space."

Mike's stomach churned at that. Good with your own space? He had been thinking about how to get closer to you, how to spend more time with you, and you were chatting with Matt about moving and staying solo.

Just as Mike was about to get up and interrupt the conversation, the door swung open, and Emily stormed in, her eyes zeroing in on you and Matt.

"Didn't take you long to start flirting" Emily sneered, crossing her arms over her chest as she approached you and Matt.

Matt looked bewildered, the expression in his face telling you that he knew something you had no clue of. "Emily, it's not like that-"

"Right in front of me? Really, Matt? And with him?" She jabbed a finger in your direction.

You blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Emily's eyes blazed with fury as she took another step closer, her voice rising. "Don't play innocent. You think I didn't notice?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion as your brain tried to make sense of her words. "What?"

"You heard me," Emily snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes cold and accusatory. "I arrive a bit late and you're already cozying up to him. You couldn't wait, could you? You can't stand to see me with anyone, can you?"

Matt tried to intervene, raising his hands defensively. "Em, come on. He's just helping me out-"

"Stay out of it, Matt," Emily snapped, not even bothering to look at him. "This is between me and him."

"Me?" You were taken aback, genuinely baffled by her sudden hostility. "I didn't do anything."

"Didn't do anything?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Right. You're so innocent. Always playing the victim, pretending like you don't know what's going on."

Everyone was watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of tension and discomfort. Jessica, sitting by the fireplace, leaned forward slightly, her brows raised in interest. She exchanged a glance with Ashley, who was seated on the arm of the couch beside Chris. Both of them looked uneasy, but there was a flicker of recognition in their eyes. It was as if they knew something had been bubbling beneath the surface for a while, and now it was finally spilling over.

Sam has been sitting near the fireplace, quietly observing, her usual calm demeanor now tinged with a hint of concern. She was the one who had always noticed things others didn't. She has seen the looks Mike had given you, those quick glances that lingered a little too long, the way his whole body seemed to shift when you entered a room.

"You always had to have everything, didn't you?" Emily continued, stepping closer until she was practically in your face. "It wasn't enough that you had to get Mike wrapped around your finger, now you're going after Matt too?"

"Emily, that's not what's happening," you protested, trying to maintain your calm despite the rising tension.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed, jabbing a finger into your chest, her voice cracked slightly, though her bitterness held strong. "God, you probably loved every second of it, didn't you? Just waiting for me to get out of the way so you could swoop in. It's pathetic."

Was she even talking about Matt at this point?

You opened your mouth to respond, but the venom in her words made it hard to get a word in. Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. It was as if all of her insecurities, all of her anger and hurt, were being poured out in this moment, directed squarely at you.

"I never tried to get between you and Mike."

"Oh, right, because it's totally normal for you to be all buddy-buddy with my boyfriend—"

"Ex-boyfriend," you corrected, your tone sharp now.

"Don't get smart with me. You might fool everyone else, but I know what's going on."

"You really want to know why i think Mike left you?" you asked, finally meeting her gaze. She wasn’t the only one with the privilege to say her thoughts. "It wasn't because of me. It was because you couldn't stop being a controlling, manipulative—"

"Watch it," Emily warned, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her finger jabbed into your chest again, harder this time.

Josh stepped forward, his voice cutting through the thick tension like a knife. "Alright, alright, can we all just take it down a notch?" he said, his usual easy-going grin plastered on his face, but there was an edge to his voice. "This is not why we came here. This is not... helping. If we can’t get along for 10 minutes then we need a little bit of a break, right?"

Emily shot him a glare but didn't argue.

"Mike," Josh said, turning his attention to the brooding figure standing silently by the couch. "Why don’t you check out the guest cabin? The one I told you about."

Mike, still seething, nodded stiffly. "Yeah. Sure."

But before he left, he grabbed your arm, pulling you with him. "Come on," he muttered, his voice low and tense. "Let's go.””

The grip he had on your arm was firm, almost too tight. He seemed angry, and you could feel the heat of his frustration radiating off him as he pulled you out of the lodge.

The cold air hit your face immediately. The heavy wooden door creaked behind you as it closed, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, feeling the chill set in. You glanced over at Mike, expecting some kind of lighthearted comment regarding what has happened. He remained silent however, his jaw tight as he walked ahead of you, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket.

You sped up slightly to catch up to him, your breath visible in the cold air. "Hey, thanks again for stepping in back there," you said, hoping to ease the awkwardness that had settled between you. "I thought she was gonna tear my head off."

Mike barely glanced your way, his eyes fixed on the snow-covered path ahead. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice flat. "No problem."

The curt response caught you off guard.

"Come on," you tried again, forcing a chuckle. "It's not every day someone gets accused of breaking up a relationship they weren't even part of. I should be charging for that kind of drama."

Mike let out a short, humorless laugh, but it felt forced, and he didn't even look at you.

You watched him carefully as he walked ahead of you, his shoulders tense, his stride a little more aggressive than usual as his boots crunched heavily through the snow.

"Okay, seriously," you said, picking up your pace again to keep up with him. "What's going on with you?

Mike didn't respond immediately, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he pressed on, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

"You're not secretly plotting revenge on Emily, are you? Because I'm not sure I'm up for a 'Revenge of the Ex' scenario tonight. My ears would bleed if I have to hear her whine again"

Mike's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't say a word, his eyes locked straight ahead. It was like you weren't even there, and the silence between you was becoming suffocating.

You let out a frustrated sigh, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets to ward off the cold. "You know, this silent treatment thing? Not your best look. Seriously, you're acting like I kicked your puppy or something."

Still, nothing. Mike's footsteps crunched against the snow as he moved toward the metal gate blocking the path ahead, his movements jerky and impatient. Mike tugged on the latch, trying to force it open, but the gate stayed stubbornly in place.

"No power," you reminded him, trying to keep your voice light. "The generator should be nearby by"

With a growl of frustration, Mike yanked on the gate harder, the metal clanking loudly in the quiet night. He muttered something under his breath, clearly losing patience as he tried again, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the cold metal.

"Goddammit," he cursed under his breath, giving the gate one more angry shove, but it didn't budge. The clang echoed through the trees, and he stepped back, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to rein in his temper.

You blinked, watching him in stunned silence for a moment. "Mike," you said cautiously, stepping toward him. "What's going on?“

Mike didn't turn to face you immediately. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Bullshit," you shot back, crossing your arms. "You're not fine. You've barely said two words to me, and now you're trying to rip a gate off its hinges. Come on. Talk to me. What's really bothering you?"

Mike finally looked up at you then, but the look in his eyes wasn't what you were expecting. Mike's jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling over as he finally spoke, his voice rougher than intended. "Do you even know what Emily was talking about?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and Mike hated the uncertainty that flashed across your face. He should have said something sooner.

"God, you really don't see it, do you?" He stopped pacing, standing still in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've had a thing for you for... I don't even know how long. But I never said anything because I thought maybe I could push it down. If I ignored it long enough, i thought it'd go away."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but he continued talking and gave you no time to respond. "But it never did. And then seeing you with Matt, it just... it fucking killed me, okay?"

"Mike..." you began, but he cut you off, stepping closer, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I'm tired of pretending," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't want to hide it anymore.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air. You had never expected that Mike, of all people, had been harboring these kinds of feelings for you.

He backed you up until your back hit a tree behind you, the rough bark cold against your jacket, his hands gripping your shoulders as his body pressed against yours. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he growled, his breath hot against your lips.

His lips crashed against yours in a heated, desperate kiss. The force of it caught you off guard, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

He pinned you against the tree, his larger frame hovering over yours as his tongue pushed past your lips. Your legs parted instinctively, allowing him to settle between them.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, the fabric of his jeans doing little to hide how hard he was for you.

Your soft moans only spurred him on, the sound sending a rush of heat through his veins. Mike's lips moved from your neck to your collarbone, then lower still, trailing a line of kisses down your chest as his hands slid beneath your shirt.

"How long?" you managed to ask between ragged breaths. "How long have you had a thing for me?"

Mike groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck as he pulled back just enough to look at you. His voice was rough, almost guttural, as he admitted, "Too fucking long." His fingers dug into your hips.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling with sincerity. "I didn't know... I didn't see it."

You had been oblivious to all of this. The guilt gnawed at you, and you felt the need to make it right, to show Mike just how much you regretted not noticing, not acting sooner.

Your hands moved down his body, fingers sliding under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin. Mike inhaled sharply at your touch, his breath catching as you began to undo the button on his jeans.

He looked down at you, confusion flickering in his eyes for a moment as you knelt in front of him. The snow beneath you crunched satisfyingly with your movements. "What are you doing?" His voice was low, unsure but curious.

You glanced up at him, your hands deftly working on his jeans, a shy yet mischievous grin forming on your lips. "I need to show you just how sorry I am," you whispered.

Mike's breath hitched at your words, and he bit his lip as you pulled his jeans down just enough to free him, your hand wrapping around him firmly. He groaned, the sound deep and needy, as his head tilted back slightly, his grip on the tree tightening as he watched you.

You stroked him slowly at first, your movements deliberate, watching the way his hips bucked slightly toward you.

"Fuck" Mike breathed out as he felt your lips brush the tip of him, teasing him just enough to make him curse under his breath. His hand moved to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he fought to keep control.

When you finally took him fully into your mouth, Mike let out a strangled moan, his hips instinctively thrusting forward. The heat, the wetness of your mouth, it was overwhelming. Every time you moved, it sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him. He looked down at you, his chest heaving, and the sight of you on your knees for him, your mouth wrapped around him, made something snap inside him.

He couldn't stop himself from moving his hips, thrusting deeper into your mouth, each motion filled with desperation and need. His voice was low, almost growling as he murmured your name between pants, barely able to keep himself in check.

"God, you feel so good," Mike groaned, his eyes locked onto you as his hips moved in sync with your rhythm.

Your tongue swirled around him, sending shivers up his spine, and Mike couldn't think straight anymore.

Just before he could reach the edge, he pulled you back up, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss. He wasn't ready to let go just yet. Not when he still had so much more to give you.

His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly as he once again pressed you against the tree. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hard lines of his muscles as he held you up and settled between your legs again.

Mike's hands were everywhere, sliding under your jacket, under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. His teeth grazed your neck as he sucked a mark into the tender flesh there. His fingers moved to your belt, undoing it with a quick flick of his hand.

His breath hitched as he pulled your pants down just enough for your ass to be exposed, the cool air hitting your skin and making you shiver.

His hand slid down between your legs, his fingers brushing against your entrance, teasing you with the lightest of touches.

He kissed you again, rough and urgent, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his fingers slowly began to prep you. He was careful, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He took his time, letting his fingers slide in gently, one at first, then two, stretching you carefully as his other hand gripped your waist to hold you steady.

He kissed you harder, his tongue moving in sync with the rhythm of his fingers as he continued to work you open.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "You're going to feel so good around me."

He stretched you further, his fingers moving faster now, more deliberately. His heart was pounding in his chest, his own arousal pressing hard against his jeans.

His fingers curled inside you, brushing against that sweet spot that made you gasp and arch against him.

Your moans were the only answer he needed and Mike knew you were as ready as he was. He pulled his fingers out slowly, the absence making you whimper, but before you could protest, Mike was already undoing his own jeans, pushing them down just enough to free himself.

He pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he held you steady.

"Tell me you want this," Mike growled, his voice low and dangerous as he looked into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," you gasped, your voice breathless and desperate as you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I need you... please."

That was all he needed to hear. With a low groan, Mike pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretching you in a way that made you gasp. The tightness around him was almost too much, the heat and pressure overwhelming, but it felt perfect.

"Fuck," Mike grunted as he buried himself inside you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He could feel every inch of you, the way your muscles clenched around him.

For a moment, he didn't move, just savoring the feeling, the way you fit him so perfectly. His forehead rested against yours, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath.

"You feel so fucking good," Mike groaned, his hands sliding up your back, holding you tight against him as he finally began to move.

You moaned his name softly, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, and it only made Mike more desperate. His pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with more force now, driving deeper into you with every thrust.

Mike's hands roamed your body, gripping your ass, your thighs, anything he could hold onto as he lost himself in the feeling of you.

His voice barely audible as he kissed you hard, his teeth grazing your lower lip as his thrusts became more frantic, more desperate.

He slammed into you harder now, his hands gripping your hips to pull you down onto him as he thrust up, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke.

Mike could feel his own release building, the pressure becoming almost unbearable as he thrust into you with reckless abandon. His breath was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest, and he could feel the way your body was trembling, the way you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

"I'm gonna-" Mike's voice broke off into a low groan as the pleasure overwhelmed him, his body tensing as he came hard, his release spilling inside you. His hips jerked forward, his thrusts becoming erratic as he rode out the wave of pleasure.

Both you and Mike found yourselves leaning against the tree, your bodies still pressed close, the cold air doing little to calm the heat that lingered between you. Mike's chest heaved with deep breaths, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. His arms still held you securely.

Mike's fingers gently trailed down your back. He gave a low, satisfied hum, his lips grazing your temple as he pressed a soft kiss there.

"I wasn't expecting that kind of apology," Mike murmured, his voice still rough and low, the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. "But damn... I could get used to it."

You let out a breathy laugh, still a little dazed and breathless yourself. "Well... I owe you after all this time."

Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing against yours in a lazy kiss before he finally pulled back, his eyes flicking toward the direction of the lodge. He ran a hand through his messy hair, shaking his head slightly in disbelief of everything that had just happened.

"We should probably get to that cabinet," he said, though his voice carried an unmistakable teasing edge.

His hands still hadn't fully left your waist, and you could tell that he wasn't quite ready to let you go. There was a playful glint in his eyes now.

"Yeah, we should," you agreed, your voice soft as you glanced up at him. "I could use a break from the cold."

Mike grinned, finally letting his hands drift from your waist as he helped you adjust your clothes and brushing off the snow that had clung to your clothes. His touch was gentle now, though the way his fingers lingered on your skin as he fixed your jacket told you that his thoughts were far from innocent.

"But you know..." his voice dropped to that low, teasing tone that you were becoming all too familiar with. "I'm not sure one apology is enough. I might need a few more of those. Just to make sure you're really sorry."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unable to stop the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. "Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind, Monroe?"

Mike leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Maybe I'll show you when we get to that cabinet. It's nice and private... perfect for a few more 'apologies’."

Mike pulled back slightly, that smirk never leaving his face as he took your hand, leading you back toward the path.

The night had only just begun, and with Mike by your side, it was clear that this was just the start of something much, much deeper.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

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lefteagleblizzard · 4 months ago

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ℌ𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔦𝔡𝔢 Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: A request that i received: “before everything happened, Mike took a "friend" to accompany him to the cabin or something and this friend reveals himself as Mike's boyfriend in a scandalous way with a focus on what the reaction of others would be and maybe how this would affect the future.”

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Secret relationship. Jealousy. Angst. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Dom Mike Munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex.

ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Words count: 4500

The lodge was perched like a secret at the top of the snow-crusted mountain. Josh's voice had been bright over the phone when he invited you. Chris added some dorky joke that made Josh wheeze with laughter in the background and you knew they were just trying to include you and assist in your attempt to break out of your shell, or whatever fucking metaphor they wanted to pin on your anxiety.

You didn't say no. You should have, but you didn't. It wasn't that you hated the idea of fun like some cold-blooded loner skulking in the corner of the party, arms crossed, music too loud.

No, it wasn't that at all. It was him. The reason you spent the first three hours of the trip practically holding your breath, faking smiles that split at the edges, pulling your beanie lower so you wouldn't have to meet anyone's eyes.

Because how the fuck were you supposed to pretend? How were you supposed to watch him laugh and flex every person in the room like you didn't know the exact cadence of his breath when he came, the way his tone shifted when he whispered your name the second you two were alone?

You were Mike Munroe's boyfriend and no one knew. Now, in this thick wooden lodge that smelled like pine and old whiskey and snow- damp clothes drying by the fireplace, it felt like everyone in the room wanted him.

Emily had latched onto him the moment you stepped through the door of the big lodge, her perfectly manicured nails dragging down his arm like she'd branded it. Her laugh was loud, effortless, too loud, pitched too perfectly for every half-ass joke Mike made. She sat too close. Touched too much. Her eyes flicked to you once, just once, and dismissed you the way someone might dismiss a stain on a shirt-something unworthy, something in the way.

Jessica wasn't better. If Emily acted like she already had him, Jessica acted like she'd earn him. Every flip of her hair, every giggle, or the way she bit her lip when Mike so much as looked in her direction. It felt like needles under your skin, a hot, ugly truth trying to crawl out of your throat and scream that he's taken.

And sweet stammering Hannah, with those big eyes and pink cheeks and the way she looked at Mike like he hung the stars in the sky. She never threw herself at him. But it was obvious in every shy glance. Everyone knew Hannah liked Mike and they all let it be like it was just a natural fact of life.

Here in this big house every step felt like walking on cracked glass. You were the one who'd kissed him first, trembling in your dorm room as Mike kissed you back like he'd been dying for it.

Now you were just "one of the guys," a friend, a tag-along. Something less than a shadow. You watched Mike grin as he slung an arm around Emily's shoulder for a photo. You forced yourself to laugh when Josh teased Mike about how many girls he'd pull this week. You felt every second of it like a slow, sharp twist between your ribs.

He met your eyes across the room, once and it wasn't enough.

His eyes held regret, guilt, fear, you had no clue. All it did was remind you that you were the secret, the locked drawer in his chest no one else was allowed to open. The thing he tucked away when the lights were on, when the others were around.

You weren't even angry. Not really. You were just tired of feeling like a crime scene or something shameful and hidden. Your chest ached in a dull, familiar way, like bruises forming over old scars.

Josh and Chris had long since passed out downstairs, the competitive fire of their third whiskey-fueled "rematch" sputtering out in snoring heaps. Their absence had stripped the room of even a thin veil of decency.

You were now surrounded by the people you were supposed to be calling friends, laughter a little too sharp, smiles too curved as they plotted something that made your stomach churn.

Emily's gasp was loud and dramatic, her hand flying to her mouth with faux shock. "You did bot just do that!" she cackled.

Ashley snorted behind a cupped hand, Matt beside her looking half-aware, fingers tapping mindlessly against his leg.

"Maybe we shouldn’t do that," Sam began, voice uncertain.

"No, no, come on," Emily interrupted, spinning around on her socked heels. "Hannah's had, what? Years? Years to grow a spine and confess to Mike. And now I want him and she knows it. So what's she doing?" Her voice pitched up like she was telling a joke. "Still simpering around him like some little wounded deer."

"And we're supposed to just let her? I’m just looking out for my bestie." Jess added with a grin that didn't reach her eyes.

Sam sat beside you in the armchair, her body close, caim, something grounding in the storm of this bullshit. She didn't say anything at first. She didn't have to.

Your eyes had caught on it without realizing that she was drawing you. The way her pencil moved, the curve of your brow shaded with delicate strokes. She wasn't hiding it. Her sketchbook was cracked open like a window, showing the version of you she saw.

One quiet, pensive, maybe even strong. It felt like a lie

Your voice felt thin when you spoke

"Guys," you tried, lifting your head, "I really don't think this is a good idea."

Jess glanced at you, her eyes narrowing with curiosity, lips twitching into a crooked grin.

"Let me ask you something," she said, slowly standing, moving closer like a snake. swaying just before it strikes. "If a friend of yours showed interest in someone you liked, would you really be okay with that?"

Her tone was light, but the edge razor. There was heat under her skin. A charge in her words.

Your heart skipped a beat. That wasn't a hypothetical. That was loaded. It was too pointed. Too precise.

You opened your mouth, closed it again, the words catching in your throat like dry glass.

She suspected something.

You shifted in your seat, glancing around the room like maybe someone else had caught It, but no one did. Emily was too busy twirling a strand of hair around her finger and beaming at what was gonna happen. Ashley offered a little "mmmhm" of agreement. Sam stiffened at your side.

"I get it,” you muttered, voice tight. "Hannah probably shouldn't be acting that way with Mike. But humiliating her like this? It's not like you can control who you're into."

Jess's expression twitched, her brows lifting slightly at your words, like she heard what you meant, not what you said.

You hadn't meant for it to sound personal. But it was hard when the person in question—your man—was across the room, sitting in that big leather armchair like some movie star.

Emily crossed the room in two easy steps, all hips and calculated charm, her arms opening in a theatrical flourish. "Just because he's class president doesn't mean he's everyone's man," she said, loud and clear, meant to be heard. "Mike is my man."

Mike glanced in your direction, sharp and fast, like his body moved without his permission. Your eyes locked and in that second, you saw the crack in his armor. The guilt.

It was in the flex of his fingers against the leather. The way his mouth twitched, not into a smirk, just tightened. A breathless second passed before he moved, rising to his feet as though pulled up on strings.

Emily spun beneath his raised arm like a fairytale version of herself, hair flipping, cheeks flushed with the thrill of feeling chosen. Your gaze dropped to the carpet, stomach twisting.

You missed the moment he looked at you again.

Mike saw your head down and his stomach turned over with something hot and cold at once. He suddenly hated himself for playing along.

Finally, he let her hand go. Let it fall back to her side like it had never belonged there in the first place.

"Hey, Em." His voice was low, firm and measured. "I'm not anyone's man."

The ache in your chest had already bloomed into something bigger, like being filled up with wet cement. You couldn't move or breathe around it.

Sam stood beside you, quiet and tense, her sketchbook closed now, hands tight around it. She leaned in, her breath tickling the shell of your ear.

"Please," she whispered. "Convince them to stop. This isn't right."

She walked out with purpose, calling for Hannah like she could still fix this.

Mike stepped in like a sigh of relief and a punch to the gut.

"Okay, okay," he said smoothly, a grin already curving his lips, charm dripping from him like heat off asphalt. One hand, strong and practiced fell lightly on Jess's shoulder, his fingers flexing just enough to steer her back with that calm, casual command he wielded like a weapon. "Let's all calm down, yeah?"

His voice was honeyed, warm, light, teasing and natural; it barely even sounded like he was defusing tension.

The rest of the room faded for you as Mike shifted, stepping in too close to you and the heat of him folded around you like gravity. His eyes caught yours and there was that softness again, that version of him that never showed up unless you were alone.

Both his hands lifted to your arm, settling on your bicep, palms warm through the fabric of your shirt. Thumbs brushing slow, rhythmic, like he was grounding you.

"Relax, alright?" he murmured, voice low enough that it barely carried, intimate in a way that made your spine straighten and your throat tighten. "No one's gonna do anything crazy.”

And god, his face so close you could see the gold flecks in his irises, the way his lashes dipped low over his gaze as he studied you.

You turned your face hard and sudden, your shoulder twisting away from his hands before you even realized you were doing it and you left.

Fast.

The air in the hallway hit you like ice-thinner, cleaner. Your heart was pounding, slamming against your chest like it was trying to outrun what just happened.

You didn't look back, your legs moved on their own until you found Sam halfway down the hallway, already scanning rooms like she didn't know whether she wanted to kick a door in or cry.

"I'll help," you said, voice tight and low

Her eyes turned to you and the relief was palpable. Her shoulders sagged, mouth parted in a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Thank you," she said and it wasn't just gratitude, she looked concerned and scared for her best friend.

"I'm gonna check her room first," she added, nodding toward the end of the hall.

Then she paused briefly to glance over your shoulder before marching down the hallway.

Your footsteps had barely started echoing down the hallway when a sudden pressure at your waist stopped you. The heat of a body behind you, close enough to steal the breath from your throat.

It was the kind of grip you knew too well, the kind that had once held you against a mattress in the dark, panting, whispered against your neck like a secret: mine.

You turned slowly, heart pounding, breath catching in your throat and there was Mike.

His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing in a small, slow stroke against the fabric of your hoodie.

"Hey," he said, quiet, pitched low, rough at the edges. "Everything okay?"

His grin spread, charming and warm almost too much. Like he was trying to compensate for what just happened in that room.

But you didn't answer right away. You just looked at him and something in your chest cracked. Your face twitched automatically. A smile bloomed at the corners of your mouth.

The kind of smile people to say everything's fine when everything is fucking broken. It didn't reach your eyes and it tore through Mike like a slow moving bullet.

It was all you could give him and it broke him.

“You… sure about that?" His eyes searched yours. "Cause that smile's the biggest load of bullshit I've seen since Chris telling everyone he was gonna win."

You almost laughed but your throat was too tight.

You swallowed hard. "I'm fine," you said.

He tilted his head, a tiny, frustrated huff slipping from his nose. "That's strike two, baby."

The nickname hit you like a gut punch because he never said it out here.

"You keep lying to me like that," he said, his voice dipping lower, thick and so close to a growl. "I'm gonna have to do something about it."

He tried to laugh, stepping closer to get rid of the space between you, the scent of him wrapping around you instantly. Spice, pine, the leftover sweetness of that expensive cologne he only wore when he wanted to impress you. His hand at your waist slid a fraction higher, slow and deliberate. Fingers dragging along the hem of your hoodie.

His other hand rose, fingers brushing just under your jaw, thumb gliding over the soft skin beneath your ear while his gaze dropped to your mouth.

His voice dropped, thick with suggestion and something darker, hotter beneath the tease. "Need some help to relax?"

His grin was there, lopsided and full of the usual boyish charm he was equipped with.

His lips landed on your cheek with a ridiculous sound, exaggerated and playful.

"Mike!" you hissed, voice cracking, cheeks flushing hot as your eyes darted past his shoulder like some part of you still had enough self-preservation to worry.

But he didn't give a shit or even pretend to stop.

Another kiss landed, higher this time and nearer to your cheekbone. Another just under your eye. Then one at the corner of your mouth, so fucking close and his laughter spilled out, rich and warm and filled with mischief.

"Shit," he chuckled against your skin, "you still get this shy, huh?"

His lips lingered more with each kiss, hungrier. Your skin was at this point flushed hot, tingling beneath each wet press of his mouth and that was all the confirmation he needed.

He kept going with slow kisses against your neck now, breath hot against your throat as he chased the pulse hammering there. Your voice came again, small and flat, barely a whisper

"Mike… quit it." But it wasn't the way you usually said it. Not full of laughter or breathy affection. There was a dullness to it, heavy and tired, eyes locked down at the floor like it could hide the truth leaking out of your mouth.

Mike's jaw flexed. He bit the inside of his cheek, irritation blooming in his chest, never at you, but at the ache in your voice and at the silence he'd let grow between you.

His grip shifted, stronger now, hand sliding from your waist to your wrist as he walked backward and pulled you with him, not stopping when you offered the barest resistance, not even hesitating. He reached the first nearby door, shoved it open with the heel of his boot and yanked you in.

The soft click of the latch felt like a gunshot. Then your back hit the door with a low thud, Mike's body pressing against you, crowding you against the wood.

You gasped, barely audible and to Mike it sounded like a green light.

Your breath came in fast pants, shallow and shivery as his chest pressed firm to yours. His nose brushed your temple, hair tickling your cheek. Heat poured off from him like a furnace, sweat beginning to build where your skin touched, clothes sticking.

You were mentally somewhere else and he didn't like that.

His lips dragged slow along the edge of your jaw, hot and wet and deliberate, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting his breath linger on every patch of skin he painted with his tongue. He scraped you gently with his teeth, kissed where it hurt.

He groaned low against your throat, grinding forward again as if to underline the problem he was dealing with in his pants. His voice was rough velvet as he mumbled against your lips, a grin curling up as he kissed the corner of your mouth. "You not in the mood or somethin'?"

A teasing bite to your bottom lip. Light and testing.

Your hesitation was too long but you did answer. Quietly.

"It's not that…"

A wicked smirk twitched onto his lips like a reflex. "So you do wanna fuck,” he murmured.

You grinned barely. Small. Brief. But it was there. A twitch of heat in your expression.

Mike exhaled through his nose, just a bit, his forehead still pressing against yours as his hands cupped your jaw. One thumb stroked over your cheek. His voice was softer now, lower but still thick with heat, brushing your lips with every word.

"What's goin' on inside that pretty head, huh?" he murmured. He didn't stop holding you. Didn't pull back. His breath was hot on your lips, mouth parted and kiss-swollen, but he waited. Waited for you to give him something real.

You swallowed hard. Your throat worked, voice caught there behind the burn and weight of your emotions but you forced it out anyway.

"I just… I feel like your friends don't really like me. Y'know?"

A pause.

"And there's so many people here who think of you as a prize, Mike. It makes me feel like this isn't even real."

Mike didn't flinch, something in him snapped. His fingers curled under your chin and tilted your face up. His eyes burned into yours, all lazy charm gone. Gone Replaced with something raw, possessive and protective.

“I hate that you feel this way. I know that i joke too much and play it cool out there. I should’ve told them weeks ago.”

He pulled you back by the shoulders so he could look at you again.

“What we have it's not fragile. It's messy, yeah, sometimes stupid. But I wouldn't risk this for anything."

You felt your chest tighten. Mike leaned in again, his mouth brushing yours.

"And come on. You think I'd be this hard for anyone else?" he breathed, grinding slowly again against your thigh, his girth dragging along your body with every word. "Think I'd be losing my fucking mind if you weren't here? You drive me crazy, baby. No one else does that. That's what you do to me, baby. Every fucking time."

His mouth found your neck again, licking a slow stripe up your throat before biting, hard enough to make you hiss.

Your head fell back against the door with a thud. He pressed up against you harder and your legs parted instinctively, hips canting forward to meet the roll of his.

His beard scratched at your skin, deliciously rough, the friction sending shocks through your spine as he groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating through you.

"You know how long I've wanted to have you like this tonight?" he whispered, voice cracking with need. "Back in that room… I saw the way you looked at me when I didn't say shit. And I hated myself for making you feel like you were nothing."

His teeth grazed your neck and you whimpered, in turn earning a chuckle from him, kissing that sound right off your throat.

"I missed the way you sound when I'm deep inside you and you're trying not to beg." His hand left your ass only to return lower this time, pushing between your thighs, cupping you through your jeans, palm rough and equipped with fingers spreading wide.

"You remember last week?" he breathed. "When you were on your knees in the locker room for me? We couldn't even wait to get home. Had your mouth wrapped around my cock in no time, eyes all wide like a good slut."

You shuddered. Fuck. He was right. "I couldn't even keep quiet," he groaned, grinding into you again, cock jerking between you. "Had to bite my damn fist so I wouldn't moan your name loud enough to echo."

He pressed his forehead to yours now, eyes burning into you, pupils blown out while his hand stid up your shirt, hot and possessive, dragging against your abdomen, past your chest, fingers grazing a nipple to watch you twitch.

Your jeans were shoved past your thighs with no patience, letting them crumple around your ankles as he kissed you like a starving animal, teeth that took hold of your lower lip and tugged before he ducked down to kiss a path along your throat, biting, sucking and marking.

You tilted your head back, hissing through clenched teeth. His fingers dipped between your cheeks, spreading and pressing against your hole through your underwear before impatiently hooking the thin material to drag it down.

You gasped when a familiar intrusion was detected, knees buckling, hands flying to the back of his head, grabbing messy fists of his hair as he groaned into you.

He spit directly onto his hand to breach you, working you open with slow, calculated thrusts that had your thighs shaking.

"Fuck, Mike—”

"Yeah?" he panted, eyes dark as he looked down at you. "What's that, baby? Need more?"

Another finger slid up, two of them now pressing against your hole, slicked from his spit and pushed in together. You choked on your own moan, head slamming back against the wall as your hole fluttered around him.

"God, fuck," you breathed, nails digging into his scalp.

"That's it," he groaned. "Squeeze me, baby. Fuckin' love how tight you are."

He fingered you hard with deep thrusts, curling his fingers to rub that spot inside you he knew would make you whimper.

There was barely any time to blink before he spun you around and bent you over the side of the bed, chest to the sheets, ass high, hole wet and ready. You heard the rustle of fabric, his jeans and boxers shoved down in one frantic motion.

The head of his cock landed against your hole, hot and thick and leaking, smearing pre all over your rim.

You pushed back instinctively, desperate, whining. Mike gripped your hip, hard enough to bruise and shoved in.

One hard, brutal thrust and he was buried to the hilt, thick cock stretching you open so fast it burned.

You shouted, voice caught between pain and need and he groaned loud behind you, head dropping forward.

"Fuuuck-God, you take it so good," he panted.

He started fucking you the second you gave him the signal you were ready. hard, fast thrusts that had the bed creaking under you, his hips slamming into your ass with wet, slapping sounds. His cock dragged against your walls perfectly, every vein rubbing against your insides and wrecking you.

Your hands clawed at the sheets, fingers curled in tight fists as you moaned into the mattress. He grunted behind you with every thrust.

"You love how I fuck you. Say it." He growled, leaning over you, his chest pressing to your back, voice hot in your ear.

You gasped, sweat dripping from your forehead, your body shaking as he fucked you harder, deeper.

"S-say it—"

"I love it," you moaned. "Fuck, Mike, I love—don't stop—"

He growled, biting your shoulder, fucking you so deep your toes curled, dragging you back onto his cock with both hands gripping your hips, fucking you like he meant to split you open, balls slapping your ass with every brutal thrust.

The tightening in your abdomen, dick twitching under you, untouched but aching. "Gonna cum, baby?" he grunted.

"Yes—yes—fuck—" He reached under you, jerking your cock with the same savage rhythm he was fucking you with, fist sliding up and down as your whole body tensed when the limit was reached, spurting across the sheets in thick ropes, ass clenching around Mike's cock like a vice.

And he soon followed you. Hot and thick. Spilling inside you in heavy, shuddering spurts, his hips twitching with every wave as he buried his face in your neck and groaned your name.

The silence afterward was thick. You laid there, sprawled across the bed, chest heaving, body boneless, glistening with sweat, streaked with Mike's cum and your own. The sheets were ruined beneath you, stained and crumpled and far, far from innocent. Your legs were still splayed, too lazy to close, too drunk on everything he'd just given you.

You didn't bother covering yourself. Couldn't, really. Even the air was too warm.

Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed, jeans only halfway zipped, still shirtless, bare chest flushed, muscles glistening. He leaned down over you, dropping loud and chaste kisses across your chest, obnoxious on purpose, wet and smacking. His grin stretched against your skin between each kiss.

"You're such a mess right now." He muttered, voice low and lazy, dragging his mouth to your nipple and licking it once, slow and hot.

You rolled your eyes, laughing breathlessly, fingers carding through his sweat-damp hair. "Asshole."

He grinned wider. "You loved every second of it."

Another kiss, right over a blooming bruise he'd left earlier.

A sound was barely registered at first due to how quick it was. You were too high off him and relaxed.

A gasp. It slipped into the air like a ghostly breath and the moment it reached your ears, it swelled, filling them entirely.

Ashley's voice, halfway to a whisper, but instantly sharp. "Mike? Are you here—oh—oh my God—"

Everything slammed into motion. Your body tensed under Mike's immediately, like a live wire yanked from the wall. You turned your head so fast your neck cracked, locking on the door where Ashley stood with Matt behind here, pale-faced and frozen, mouth open mid-word.

And he shouted too the second he realized what he and her had stumbled into when they were sent by Emily to search for Mike. "Oh! Fuck! Jesus! We're—we're sorry—"

Ashley backed up, hand flying to her face, babbling fast, her voice already rising. "Oh my God—oh my God, I didn't—I'm so sorry—oh God, we didn't know—"

"Fuckin'—GET OUT!" Mike barked, already grabbing the crumpled sheet from beside you and yanking it over your waist, shielding your lower half as he stood, chest heaving, voice snapping like a whip.

His body was between you and the door now, wide and furious.

But the door was still open and you saw Hannah peeking in at the back.

Her eyes found yours immediately and you couldn't even breathe.

She looked like someone had slapped her. Face drained white. Mouth parted, the whole picture clicking into place.

You could barely hear anything over the pounding in your ears when she turned and ran away.

The door finally slammed shut by Mike, rattling in its frame as silence dropped like a hammer.

You were shaking Heart still jackhammering. Sheet pulled tight to your chest. Breath shallow.

Mike turned back. His chest was rising fast, hair stuck to his forehead. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something but his eyes, when they locked on yours, were full of panic and devastation.

You tried to speak and nothing came out as well.

Mike dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, hands sliding to your thighs, gripping tight and dropping his forehead to press it to your knee.

His voice came out wrecked. "I'm so fucking sorry." The silence swallowed it.

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