#munch x reader

A/N: my grammar is so bad omg i apologise, i’m so bad at tense i can never follow what the fuck i’m doing lowk! This is my longest fic to date, everyone clap, amd also one of the very few smuts ive written, os feedback is appreciated ;p i had lots of fun

W/C: 3.6K

Warnings: Piv sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), female anatomy, 18+, raw (whoops), idk what else

Your foot tapped rhythmically against the carpet as your fingers played with the frayed edge of the old couch. This was the first time a case had taken you all out of New York together. The smile on your face was betrayed by your skittish movements. You weren't exactly the most comfortable person at the best of times, but right now, knee deep in a case, a crush, and a random motel, you weren't exactly jumping for joy.  

Cragen pulled away from the motel counter as the keys jingled in his hand. He pinched the bridge of his nose and had that grimacing look that meant he was about to be the bad guy.  

“Budgets tight, everyone has to bunk up. Fin, you're with me, probably the least disturbing.” He muttered under his breath, the rest of the team scowling at him. “Liv and El. Obviously. That leaves Munch and... You.” His finger pointed at you as your fingers fell away from the old couch and you stood. 

Giving the most dramatic performance of your career, you crossed your arms and let out the loudest sigh you could muster. 

“Oh. Great. Wonderful. Perfect. I’ve always dreamed of spending a night in suburban Pennsylvania sleeping three feet away from Detective Endless Conspiracies himself.” 

Munch's face lit up in a smug smirk as he slid towards you. “Relax, I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.” His voice trailed into a fake whisper, as he shot you a wink. 

 The rest of the team held back their laughter as you rolled your eyes and tutted. 

“God” You muttered. “Can I switch with Fin? Cmon Cragen! You love me, I'm your favourite! When was my last write up? Like a million years ago.” 

Cragen slapped the keys into your hand and grinned. “I like Fin more.”  

The scoff that left you probably could've been heard across Pennsylvania. “Play nice, You'll be fine.” He tapped your shoulder and heaved his bag off the couch. 

Munch smirked at you over the rim of his glasses as you slumped and turned back to him and your pile of bags. “Cmon sunshine!” He smiled smugly and threw your bag over his shoulder. “I won't Bite.”  

A girl can dream, huh? 

- 

As it turned out, in a 40 bucks a night hotel room, you get exactly what you deserve. A rickety double bed, a chair that falls apart every time you look at it and what looks like a washcloth acting as a curtain. 

“This is deliberate.” Munch claimed indignantly. “They want us tired. Vulnerable. Easier to monitor.” He gently placed your bag down next to the rotting chair, not wanting to take one of its legs off accidentally. 

“John.” You said, rubbing the bridge of your nose and toeing off your shoes. “it’s a motel off of Route 11, not some fancy club house sponsored by the CIA.”  

“You think that because that's what they want you to think.” He stated, pointing his finger at every little thing in the room. 

“John.” 

He sighed and gave up on his speech, surrendering to your tiredness. He unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, and he walked over to the bed and pressed down lightly, hearing a sharp creak.  

“Do you think the bed can take our weight without cracking?” As he was talking, it dawned on you, something you hadn't even considered as you were too busy being disgusted with the peeling wallpaper, and probable black mold in the corner. Theres only one bed.  

Your shoulders slumped again as your brain was already preparing for a night of small touches, tingling hands and held breathe. A night where you could very possibly reveal all these feelings you had done so well at hiding these past couple months, with a simple whisper of his name in your sleep. 

You turned to him and tried to look annoyed. You really tried. But being face to face and thinking of lying next to him for eight hours? You were sure he would be able to physically see your heart pulsating out of your chest.  

“I get the left side.” You said.  

“Why?” He asked, loosening his tie slowly. It was as if he knew. 

“Because that’s the side closest to the door and if someone breaks in, I want them to kill me first so I don’t have to hear you monologue about the Illuminati at 3 in the morning.” 

“Joke’s on you. If someone breaks in, I’m using you as a shield.” He sounded light, and childish now, something you wish you heard more often from him. 

“Wow. Chivalry is dead.”  

“It was an inside job.”  

You broke out in a giggle, despite your best efforts. He always had something to say. 

As you both continued your nighttime routine, there was this quiet, domestic feel in the air. You coexisted peacefully. He made space for you, you moved around each other in tandem, like you had been right next to him all along, like you belonged there. 

You finally settled into bed, the rough sheets rubbing against your bare legs, clad in your cutest pyjamas. Thank the lord you'd brought your nice ones. You faced the ceiling and closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You could do this, just one night, in the closest proximity you could imagine, next to the prettiest man you'd ever seen. It was fine, you could do this. 

You heard the light switch click off. Now there was only the low splash of light that cascaded across the room from the corner lamp, bathing everything in a yellow hue. Beside you, Munch’s long frame made the mattress dip and you felt the heat spread up your legs to your chest. He sighed, as you were sure was his default setting. Then sighed again because sometimes he was just as dramatic as you. 

“So.” He said, still not fully lay down. “Comfortable?” 

“It’s fine.” You replied, holding your breathe and fidgeting with your fingers. 

“You’re lying.” You could practically hear him narrowing his eyes. 

“Okay, fine.” You sat up finally, facing him properly now. “I'm a little hot.” 

“You think too highly of yourself.” 

Once again you found yourself giggling at him, you wouldn't be surprised if you had a noise complaint in the morning, considering how thin these walls where.  

“No, you idiot! You’re hot. You’re like a furnace.” You nudged him with your foot, sending a spark up your leg. “Why are you so warm? You run at like, a million degrees.”  

He paused as he looked at you, then pulled the smuggest smile you had ever seen. “I guess I'm just evolutionarily superior, some would say.”  

You scoffed again and fanned the blanket. “More like medically concerning. Get it checked, old man.” 

“Admit it. You like it. Imagine...”  His hands moved animatedly as he spoke, ever the storyteller. “It's deep in the winter, you live in a New York apartment, so your heating is terrible. You’ve just come home out of the frigid snow and you have your own personal electric blanket, waiting for you.” He finished off his flashy story by placing a hand on his hip, like he was the prize. 

“John! I’m sweating through my shirt!” You tried to sound indignant, but the fit of giggles that his story had put you in was making that a lot harder. Your chest warmed at the thought of coming home to him. 

“You’re welcome.” You tried to breathe through the fit of giggles, as he gave you that damn smile again. As your giggles faded away, you realised, in the low light of the room, he was staring at you. Staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky.  

You suddenly became aware of everything. His breath on your skin, your thighs touching, the absolute heat radiating from your skin, thanks to him. Feels like the perfect time to lean just a little bit closer... 

“Anything else-” He tried to get out one last snarky comment before you scoffed and grabbed the side of his face, cutting him off. 

“Dear God John, just shut up for once in your life.” You pulled his face to yours, your lips meeting. His surprise lasted about half a second, before his brain caught up and he kissed back with such fervour, like he’d been waiting for someone to shut him up for decades.   

His hands found your waist as he guided you into his lap, your thighs falling either side of his hips. You could feel the heat travelling up your body, sensations exploding between the two of you as you deepened the kiss. Your hands wondered into his hair giving it a little tug.  

He pulled back, pulled his lip between his teeth and stared up at you. He looked so delicious in this light, a little dazed, and a whole lot smug.  

“See? Peace and quiet.”  

“Not for long.” He mumbled into another kiss, deftly flipping you so your body was trapped beneath him. 

His mouth trailed down your neck, slow and deliberate, leaving hot, opened mouth kisses over every sensitive spot. You arched into him, fingers digging into his shoulders as he sucked a light mark onto the pulse point of your neck, 

“John...” You breathed his name, no real idea what you were trying to say, just knowing your entire brain was filled with his scent, his touch, him. 

“You have no idea” He murmured against your collarbone, covering the entire expanse of your skin in kisses, “How many nights I’ve imagined you saying my name like that.” 

His hands slid under your shirt, palms warm. God, so warm. Exploring and mapping every inch of skin. You gasped when his thumb brushed the sensitive skin beneath your bra. 

“Sensitive?” He asked, his voice a low rasp. 

“Shut up.” 

You pulled him down and kissed him again, deeper this time, your tongue teasing his. your legs parted just enough that he could settle between them. The friction made you moan softly into his mouth, enough to make him exhale sharply. 

There were far too many clothes in between you two. He tugged your shirt over your head, sliding his hands over your freshly exposed skin. He placed kisses down your sternum, covering a line down your stomach in hot saliva. He kissed your hips, and his fingers traced down the expanse of your legs as your shorts followed. 

Once you were beneath him in only your underwear, he sat back on his calves. If there was ever a moment to slow down, to take in every inch of something, it was now, it was you. His eyes racked down every inch of your skin, memorising, committing every inch of you to his memory incase he never got this chance again. God, he hoped that wasn't the case. 

Someone could ask him tomorrow if he had ever stared at the sun and now, truthfully, he could say yes.  

He could see you staring back at him, your eyes filled with everything unsaid over these past couple months. And, as if time had surged and crashed back into him, you grabbed his hand and pulled him back down between your legs, your tongue invading is mouth, your smell invading his senses. 

Your hands searched his body feverishly, as you tugged his shirt over his head. Skin against skin, you were sure this was your new favourite feeling in the world. Hearing his belt buckle clang as it hit the floor sent a wave of heat through your core. 

He slotted between your legs again, rolling his hips into yours, a deep rumble coming from his chest. His hand slid down your stomach, under the waistband of your underwear. His fingers were fast, desperate to have you bare underneath him. You lifted your hips, your body responding to him as if it had known him since the beginning. 

Your underwear was thrown to the side, a problem for tomorrow. The sight of you, laid out for him, was like all his feral little dreams of you come to life. His self control snapped. 

His fingers traced the slick seam of you, dragging through your folds at a teasing pace, as his thumb gently moved circles against your clit. You gasped in response, your hips rolling into his hand unconsciously. 

“That’s it.” He whispered, his lips returning to the hollow of your throat. “Let me hear you.” 

You were more turned on then you were sure was humanely possible, your brain dizzy on the feeling of John touching you.  

Your slick coated his fingers as he gently slid two of them into you, that slow pressure feeling angelic against your walls. Your head dropped back against the pillow with a choked sound. He began moving them, curling upward, finding the exact spot that made your thighs tremble and expletives fall from your mouth. 

 His other hand was splayed across your hip, big and possessive, keeping you in place whilst he worked you open. 

“John, fuck...” You rasped, barely even able to keep your eyes open. 

“That’s it.” He whispered, kissing the valley between your breasts. "I want to hear you fall apart.” 

His words and his fingers exploring every inch of you was causing that coil in your stomach to build up faster than usual. You had a sneaking feeling it was to do with the anticipation, the dreams, the want, of this moment. 

His thumb continued that sweet sequence on your clit as his fingers stretched you open, hitting that spot that made your mind blank and your eyes roll back. Your hips rocked absently as the buildup caused your muscles to tighten, and your breath go ragged. 

“Oh my god, I'm gonna-” Before you could even finish your sentence you felt the bliss of orgasm wash over you quicker than you intended. Your muscles spasmed and your brain blanked as all you could feel was him. His fingers fucked you through your orgasm as you panted, breathless, your eyes fuzzy and your body like jelly. 

“John-” You moved to sit up but he was already leaning between your legs.  

“Stop.” He placed a soothing kiss on your lips and your eyes drifted closed again. “I'm not done with you yet.” 

You face broke out in a hazy smile, giggling. “You. Are. Insatiable.” 

“Wouldn't you be if you were in my position?” To make his point, his eyes racked over you again, giving you that vulnerable feeling of being watched. He thought you were the most stunning thing he had ever seen, and he would be damned if he didn't give you everything you deserved tonight. 

His hands dipped behind your back, unclipping your bra and helping you remove it. His hands slid across your breasts, cupping them in his big hands, placing kisses down your throat, down your sternum, and wrapping his lips around your peaked nipple. Your body jolts as your overcome with the heat that's rolling from him in waves. 

He runs his tongue over your nipples as you thread your hands through his hair. Every kiss, every touch, leaves your skin searing and tingling. He divides his attention perfectly between the two, leaving you a mewling mess with just his mouth.  

He leaves kisses down the valley of your breasts and onto your stomach, hands gripping your hips again, sure to leave bruises there in the morning. Evidence that he was here, that he will be again.  

He nudged your legs apart with deliberate slowness, dragging his fingertips lightly along your inner thighs. Every touch was maddeningly soft, teasing, making you shiver. 

He hooked his hands under your knees and pulled you closer until you were right at the edge of the mattress, your hips tilted toward him. When he looked up at you from between your thighs, his expression was enough to make your stomach flip. 

“Beautiful.” He muttered, almost to himself. He left little kisses against your inner thighs, taking note of your small moans and little giggles that broke through as he touched a ticklish spot. He sucked marks onto your inner thighs, eliciting desperate moans from you, using his tongue to soothe them after. 

His head finally dipped in between your legs, exactly where you've been aching for him. You gasped, your hips jerking and your hands diving into his hair. His hand pushed down on your hips, keeping you exactly where he wanted.  

He smiled against you, keeping his head between your legs as he spoke. “Easy, let me take my time.” And that he did.  

He started with slow, exploratory licks, broad strokes up the full length of your slit, tasting you like he’d been a man, starved. Then he narrowed in on your clit, circling it with his flattened tongue. 

“John, please-” You squirmed as he hummed against you, the vibration making your thighs clamp around his head. He was loving this, having you absolutely thriving underneath him. His hands slid down your thighs, grabbing your plush skin, holding you open as he sucked your clit into his mouth gently, then harder, alternating pressure until you were a moaning mess. 

“You taste...fuck-” He breathed, diving back in before he could finish. His tongue flicked and stroked your clit, slow then fast, every lick making that pressure in your stomach build. Every inch of your skin was warm, tingling, absolutely begging for more. 

You tugged at his hair as he touched the perfect spot with his tongue, your breath was shallow and your throat making absolutely perverted sounds. he looked up at you while his mouth was still on you, his eyes half lidded, hungry, and smug as hell like always. 

“Such a pretty sound.” He murmured, not even lifting his head, not wanting to miss a second of this. “Give me more.” 

You whined, as he flattened his tongue against your clit and added a finger inside you, sliding in easily with how wet you were. He curled it upward and easily found that spot that makes you go crazy. 

You swore if you didn't feel him, properly, wholly, right now, you might as well just explode. You pulled on his hair twice, hoping he got the idea. 

“You okay?” His chin was glistening with you, already looking fucked out without even being touched. 

“Get up here.” You whispered, your voice quiet and raspy. “I want you.” 

God, those words. He’d dreamed about them more times than he could count. They sounded even more sultry now, tumbling from your lips. 

He dipped his head to kiss you again, tasting yourself on his lips. He lined himself up against your entrance, the head of his cock gliding through your slick folds, practically begging for him. His head nudged your clit before slowly pushing inside of you. 

The moan that ripped from his throat was absolutely animalistic. He couldn't stop it, months of want built up into the single greatest night he's sure he's ever had. 

You gasped as he slowly filled you up to the hilt, the pressure from the size of him causing you to slowly rake your fingernails down his back. He sucked in a breath, trying desperately to control himself. 

“Fuck.” He whispered against the hollow of your throat, his voice strained. “You feel so-” He couldn't even finish his sentence, his mind was filled with desire. 

His first thrust made you moan wildly against his ear. He caught your lips in a kiss, trying to quell the sound, lest the entirety of Pennsylvania hear you. He set a slow, deliberate rhythm, rolling his hips against yours. Every stroke hitting that same, devastating spot inside you that had you ready to surrender. 

The bed creaked violently, splitting the tension in the room as you both broke into a fit of laughter. You were soon cut short by another slow thrust, turning your giggle into a hiss of pleasure. This man had you absolutely falling apart in minutes. 

He shifted, pinning your hips, and holding your leg against his shoulder. The next stroke dragged a broken cry out of your throat as he grabbed your face, holding you still as he fucked you deeper. His pace building until you were clawing at his shoulder, leaving a perfect bite mark, and desperately trying to hold onto something as the build up of your orgasm started dragging you under. 

“Take me, pretty girl. Just like that. Fuck-” With his words against the soft shell of your ear, you elicited moans and mewls and abhorrent noises. Holding your cheek, he slipped one of his fingers in your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds.

The pressure in your stomach was too much, your orgasm crashing into you like a wave. Your walls were squeezing him so hard, his rhythm faltered just slightly, as he breathed a groan against your neck. 

Your body was shaking, your fingers digging into his shoulders, riding the after effects of your orgasm as he fucked into you faster, chasing his own release. He buried himself deep into you, his breath stuttering, his hips jerking sporadically and he came with a pathetic, helpless sound that sent tingles through your entire body. 

He stilled for moments after, breathing hard but still leaving small featherlight kisses against your neck. His forehead dropped against your shoulder as his hands still clung to your waist, not quite ready to let go. 

When he finally pulled back, he cupped your face and left the sweetest kiss against your lips. His forehead lay against yours, unable to stop himself giving you quick kisses over and over. 

“Still think I’m too warm?” He murmured into the silence, brushing hair from your face. 

You rested your palm on his chest, still catching your breath. “You’re perfect.” You conceded, pushing a finger into his chest. “But don’t ever tell anyone I said that” 

“Oh, trust me. I’m keeping this to myself.” With a final kiss to your forehead, he lay back against the sheets, pulling you against his chest. If this wasn't heaven, you, laying here with him, he wasn't sure what else there could be.  

‘Let me get you a washcloth.” Grabbing your chin and laying you down on the creaky bed, he threw on his boxers and was halfway to the bathroom before you could even get a word out.

“You don-“ You were quickly silenced as he turned on his heel and pointed at you.

“Do not finish that sentence.” You would’ve argued if he hadn’t absolutely exhausted you for the last hour, and if that look on his face wasn’t so convincing.

As you lay down again, the air wrapped in a lightness you hadn’t felt in a while, you thought back to just a few hours ago. You, being a bundle of nerves, so wound up from work, John, Pennsylvania. It all felt so inconsequential now. Now that you had everything you’d ever wanted, right by your side.

Tags: N/a

Warnings: brief discussion of Munch's job and sexual crimes, hurt/comfort

A/n: Just a little blurb that came to mind while I was watching SVU.

A/n: hi this is my first ever like writing post on tumblr! If there is someone I left out and you’d wanna see lemme know.

Olivia

- honestly mom! Olivia is the best

- basic rules; such an overprotective mom though

- dates are NOT allowed

- boyfriends, girlfriends; whatever it’s a no

- that mom who wants to know your friends parents before y’all hang out

- totally has life 360 so don’t even THINK about trying to sneak out

- spoiled yeT humble

Elliot

- y’all

- I don’t

- even

- gotta

- go here

- the most protective and best dad period

Munch

- he’s hilarious

- protective af

- casual inside jokes

- the squad probably was so confused meeting you for the first time

- doesn’t need life 360 or any kind of monitor bc TRUST

- DO NOT BRING ANYONE HOME JUST BECAUSE HE WILL SCARE THEM WITH CONSPIRACY THEORIES

Fin

- literally the chillest dad

- BUT DONT LIE HE KNOWS

- super caring

- he trusts you but with the 13-18 age range you aren’t trusted as much

- shockingly never gets in trouble

- when you do it’s probably fighting somebody

- totally get grounded

- but he’s super proud

- you totally could bring someone home you just have to clarify that he isn’t kidding when he says he will kill them

Rollins

- y’all

- no offense

- but she totally is that see the manager mom

- don’t @ me

Carisi

- if you juul you die

- TRUST HIGH KEY

- very close

- super soft

- EXTRA PROTECTIVE

- sonny only wants the best for his family

- relationships go through him and they usually never make it past

Amaro

- is a super weird dad

- highkey Ioves And spoils his kids

- yet he doesn’t think he’s really good at being a dad

- don’t bring anybody home

- he’s gonna embarrass you

- if you are anything like him; he totally doesn’t trust you during the teen years

Dodds

- low key dad jokes

- low key overprotective

- really relaxed

- doesn’t wanna be like his dad

- trusts you yet doesn’t trust the people you date

Barba

- distant

- such a good dad though

- nervous

- will literally give anything to see your smile

- will try to find ways to put the people who hurt you in jail

- reminds people you bring home that he isn’t an ADA When it comes to you; he’s dad and he will end somebodies life if they hurt you

Stone

- y’all he’s the sweetest

- hugs

- lots

- of

- hugs

- very keen on knowing where you are at all times

- super supportive of all activities

- ANOTHER YOU JUUL YOU DIE PARENT

- you’d honestly get caught juuling in the school bathroom and he didn’t talk to you for three days

- you didn’t think he was gonna come to your chorus concert with how mad he was at you

-yet he did; he told you he was sorry for ignoring you, it wasn’t the correct way to handle it.

-but you’re totally grounded 4 life

- you aren’t allowed to be in a relationship

A/n: old man fuckers unite!! This is my first 4 + 1 fic, ik it wont get a lot of traction but im so seriously down bad i do not care, im releasing it in parts because i can

W/C: 1.2k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

The 4 times John Munch made a fool of himself being hopelessly in love, and the 1 time he redeemed himself.

Field training 

The rattling of equipment echoed off the walls and the salty bite of sweat lingered in the air. Today was a day that clued everyone in on your personality. You were either excited, eager and ready, or it was literally the worst day in the history of your entire life. Field training day. 

Once a year, every single member of the SVU must gather round the underfunded, overused precinct gymnasium, and work their scrawny butts off to prove to the NYPD that they still deserve their job. 

You were still unsure about how you felt. Although you liked to know that your skills were still sharp, and that you still looked good in workout gear, you also sweat through your clothes and get taken down by at least half of your colleagues. You preferred working out solo, music in, world faded, punches rhythmic. 

Elliot was spotting Olivia as she used the bench press, throwing a remark every so often to try and throw her off her game. Those two were very competitive on field training days, neither wanted to just pass, they wanted to beat the other. Olivia won by a hair last year, with her stamina being higher than his, so he's working extra hard this year, just so he can rub it in her face. 

Captain Cragen was exempt from field training, since he barely left his desk. Although he probably could use it with all those Twizzlers he eats. He was walking around sporadically, pretending like he was doing something, maybe taking notes, maybe critiquing. In actuality, he was thinking that this may be the first day all year that they get to go home before 5, No overtime. He could barely conceal the smile on his face. 

Since they were a duo in the field, they were a duo in training too. John and Fin were centred inside the boxing ring, attempting to practice their hand to hand. Fin was rattling on about something that happened during the last case, whilst John chimed in with the occasional ‘hmm’, or ‘oh’. During his ranting and raving, Fin noticed that dazed look in Johns eyes, the look that meant he was focused, just not on this conversation. A look he felt he knew all too well as of recent. 

“John?” He was met with an offhand ‘hmm?’ in response. His venting slowly faded out as he followed John's line of sight. Click. It all made sense. That glint in his eye, his relaxed shoulders, shallow breathing. He knew the best way to recapture John's attention. 

Your fist was hitting the punching bag in time with your music that was blasting through your earphones, but it seems it was not loud enough. Your body tensed on reflex and your head whipped around as you heard a loud ‘Thud!’ From the boxing ring. You couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of your chest at the sight of John on the floor. Fin was standing over him, looking like a teacher about to berate his student. 

“You know I'm not actually a perp, right?” John groaned from the floor as he was rapidly spun out of his daze by Fin. 

“I know, but you're acting like one with all that creepy starin’, you gotta get it together man, or else a real perp will put you on your scrawny ass.” He gave John his hand to aid him in standing his ‘scrawny ass’ back up. 

“What are you even talking about?” The accompanying groan that came from him as he hauled up was not something he was proud of. Just then, like the sweetest little cuckoo clock, you shouted from across the gym. 

“Don't hurt yourself, old man! Show him those muscles I know you're hiding.” You punctuated your comment with a wink as you turned back around to focus on your workout. 

“That! That is what I'm talking about!” Fin gestured wildly towards you as your back was turned. “You have been acting like some lovesick fool since she stepped foot in the precinct.” 

“Okay listen, Tutuola...” His mouth was moving faster than his brain as he desperately tried to scramble for an excuse to explain his distracted demeanour. His, almost downright embarrassing set of excuses, faded out as a reluctant smile plastered itself on his face. He was definitely acting like a fool for you. He knew Fin would not stop talking about taking him down for the rest of his days. 

He couldn't help it though! Everything about you was distracting. The way you moved, talked, walked. All of it made him feel like he could take on anything just from looking at you. Fin was right, he had been absolutely sick for you since the day you transferred in. That smile you gave him the minute he hit the deck made him consider letting Fin take him down every single time just to see it again. 

“Aww, c'mon man, look at that smile, that's just sick.” Fin's words were cut off by a shallow hit from John, who was desperately trying to get him to shut up as he saw you trailing up to the ring.

“Who’s sick?” You ducked under the thin rope lining the rink and leaned against it. 

“Me! I'm sick, that's why Fin was able to take me down so quickly, y’know on a good day he’d have no chance.” He quickly covered for himself as his heartbeat leapt to his throat. 

“Yeah, that's why.” Fin rolled his eyes as he saw you press the back of your hand against John's forehead to check his temperature.  

Although John claimed he was the king of schooling his features, the blush creeping up his neck at your fawning told another story. He gently took your hands from his face and kept them in his. “I’m fine, sweetheart, don't work up a sweat worrying about me.” 

“Fine, but I know something else we can work up a sweat doing?” the sweet smile on your face told John you did not understand what you just insinuated. 

“Oh my god...”  

“No not that, god is your mind always in the gutter, Fin?” You playfully hit him on the arm as you turned back to John. “Nah, Munchie would break more than just a sweat if we did that.” A smirk littered your face as you turned to wrap your hands in the boxing gloves, narrowly missing the flush that hit John's face, and Fins raised eyebrows. 

“I meant boxing!” You turned around raising your fists with the boxing gloves on like they were something to marvel at. “Mind if I tag in?” 

“Fine by me, means I get to sit my ass down for a minute.” Fin snapped the Velcro from his boxing gloves and loosened them. “Will be the easiest takedown of your life, Munch is very distracted from his 'sickness' today.” He finished his sentence with raised eyebrows as you turned back to Munch with a questioning look. 

A/N: yes this is inspired by that brooklyn 99 scene i thought it was hilarious,, anyhow the last part is next its going to be SICKENING

W/C: 1.3K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

The 4 times John Munch made a fool of himself being hopelessly in love, and the 1 time he redeemed himself.

4. The (love) Bomb

Specks of sunlight sliced through the blinds, the squad room was still half-lit, computers in sleep mode, chairs tucked in as if the night shift hadn’t dared disturb them. Munch paused just inside, taking a moment to savour the rare silence, there was no ringing phones, no detectives arguing over paperwork, no perps shouting insults from holding. It can be so easy to get caught up in the horror that's usually pasted all over this room, you forget to appreciate the silence. 

“Didn’t think anyone could beat you in,” Fin said behind him, moving to hand him one of the coffees he's holding. 

Munch accepted it with a suspicious squint. “You didn’t get the vegan, gluten-free, single-origin blend I like, did you?” 

Fin snorted. “Man, I got you coffee. You’re welcome.” 

They moved deeper into the precinct, throwing keys on desks and hanging coats up. 

“Strange being the first ones here,” Fin said, dropping into his chair. 

“Strange?” Munch shrugged off his coat. “Or ominous. Ever notice how in every thriller, the guys who show up early are the ones who find the body?” 

Fin raised an eyebrow. “We work SVU, John. We always find the body.” 

“Thank the lord, right?” John muttered as he started digging through his bag.  

He let out a satisfied hum as he found the package and made a beeline to your desk. Fin swears he was desperately trying to mind his own business, but he hadn't seen John bring more than a sandwich and a book to work since he started. So, seeing him, holding a square package, wrapped up in brown paper, with the words ‘open now’ scrawled in terrible handwriting on the top, let's just say he was intrigued. 

John dropped the package on your desk, straightening it a little, before returning to his desk. As he dropped down in his chair, he could feel Fins eyes burning into the side of his head. 

“Are you gonna ask me or what?” John said expectantly, turning to Fin with a frown. 

“What the hell is that?” He pointed a lazy finger at the brown box on your desk. 

The rest of the officers had started to file into the precinct now, the usual rhythm and background noise began to trickle in, making the two detectives lower their voice slightly. 

“That, my dear friend, is a gift? Ever heard of it?” John grinned smugly. 

“Alright, don't be a smartass. I mean what's in it, and why is it on her desk?” He sounded like he was done dealing with John today already. “And why does it look like you wrote on it whilst you were drunk?” 

“Glad to know I'm so thought-provoking Fin.” He said sarcastically. “I am giving our resident sunshine a gift. Something she mentioned a couple nights ago when we were tailing some perp.” He explained to Fin like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Right...” He said, his tone long and skeptical. “And why can't you just give it to her when she comes in?”  

“Well, since you know nothing about romance, I wanted it to be a surprise.” John turned back to his computer like he had finished his conversation. “I don't want her to know it was me, I aint ready for that conversation yet.”  

“Right...” Fin echoed his previous words. “So, just to recap, you left an unmarked package on a detective's desk, on a random Tuesday, with a suspicious message that looks like its been scrawled by a crazy person?” 

John threw his head in fins direction and creased his eyebrows. “Stop, I know what you're getting at, she will not think like that.” He chided, but Fin was already mumbling disagreements. “See this is what's wrong with romance in this day and age. Everybody is so used to everything being at their fingertips...” Munch continued his tirade, failing to notice his favourite detective walking in. 

You pushed open the precinct doors, taking in the precinct, smiling when you noticed John was already at his desk. You hung your jacket up and made to walk over to your desk. Just then, you stopped in your tracks, assessing this strange package on your desk. You took timid steps towards it, being careful not to knock it in any way. You slowly put your ear next to the box, looking for any indication of noise.  

Then, you heard the quietest little, tick, tick. Your heart rose into your throat, and you felt like you may just very well pass out. 

“Bomb! Theres a bomb on my desk!” You shouted across the precinct, causing everyone to look at you. In almost a moment, that peaceful early morning buzz suddenly erupted, with chairs scraping against the floor and files falling from hands. 

“I told you.” Fin muttered to John.  

Olivia came rushing up behind you with her arm on your shoulder. “I'll go and get Cragen.” Just as Olivia was about to run to the captain's office, John shot up from his chair and caught her arm. 

“It's not a bomb!” He put his hand out to try and calm everyone. “I put it there it's not a bomb.” God did Munch feel stupid now. He was sick of Fin being right about everything. 

Now all eyes were on him, but his only met yours. That brief flash of fear he saw was never something he wanted to see on your pretty face as long as he lived. 

“What is it?” You picked it up now, blindly trusting him that it was in fact, not a bomb.  

“It's... for you.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to force away the starting of a headache from this whole thing. “Preferably I wouldn't be announcing it to the whole precinct.” That caused a low chuckle to break out among the detectives, shattering the high tension in the room. 

He moved over to your desk, trying to maintain as much privacy as he could. “Remember when we were tailing that perp last week, and we walked by the jewellery shop, and you pointed out that watch you liked?” He explained as you carefully started to remove the wrapping from the box. 

You opened the white box, seeing that beautiful watch staring back at you. You could practically feel your heart swell at the thought of John freakin Munch, going back to that jewellery store to buy it.  

“I remember, its beautiful.” You looked at the gleam of the watch. “You couldn't have just given it to me like a normal person?” You laughed lightly as you looked back at him.  

“See, Fin said this! Should've listened, making a fool out of myself.” Munch conceded, shaking his head. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”  

“Maybe you should think that through a little better next time, huh?” The tension crackled between you as you flashed him a shy smile, unsure of what to do next. In the past couple of weeks John had made a fool of himself countless times on your account, and it seemed like you couldn't get enough of it. 

“Well thank you, John. Really, its beautiful.” You slid your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. Your scent invaded his senses, and he thought he could stay in this moment forever. As you pulled away, you left a kiss on his cheek, your gloss leaving a shiny mark.  

“Do you want to put it on for me?” You flashed him that golden smile, and he just couldn't resist doing anything you asked.