Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving, mentions of male), fingering, praise, vanilla, L word, overstimulation, steve is the softest boy ever, PORN WITH NO PLOT
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!reader
Summary: Steve loves eating pussy, duh
Note: I’ve literally written multiple requests that tumblr has deleted. I’m distraught. Here’s Steve being pussy drunk because your girl is TIRED
“C’mon baby, take em’ off for me.” Steve’s voice is silky smooth, ushering you to remove the lace panties that were separating him from you. “C’mon, you got it, pretty.”
Your cheeks are pink, partly from the exhaustion and lack of air from sucking Steve’s cock only moments ago, and then partly because of the way he so lovingly stares into your eyes.
His fingers snap the lace, urging you to do as your told. You shuffle, slipping them off. Steve’s quick to then flip you so you’re on your back.
“Gonna make you feel so good, yeah?” He promises, kissing down your body. “That okay? Can I taste you, honey?”
You whimper from his kisses that are feather light, his lips brushing along your navel and then down to your hip bone. “Words, Y/N. Use your words.” He encourages.
“Y-yes please, please.” Your words are so quiet they’re barely heard, but he catches them. He grins and kisses down. He peppers sweet kisses along your inner thighs, already tacky from slick.
“So wet for me,” He coos. His ring and middle finger softly run along your folds, barely touching. You suck in a deep breath, whining impatiently.
Steve tuts. “Patience, honey. Remember?”
But patience didn’t matter anymore, considering he begins to slowly circle your entrance and then pushes his now coated fingers in.
The moan you let out is pathetic. Your body already shudders from pleasure and he’s barely touched you.
“Steve..” You whine, fingers threading through his messy locks. His pace is torturous, slow and deep. Perfect yet agonizing all at once. You buck your hips up to get more friction. “More..”
“You want more?” He asks softly, curling his fingers up which causes another sound to gurgle out of your sore throat. He then attaches his lips to your clit, sucking harshly which was the complete opposite of the gentle way he was working you before.
Your back arches off the bed, shocked at the sudden and intense pleasure that began to course through you.
Steve’s tongue circles your clit with precision, his eyes locked on your pretty face as he fucks into you with his fingers and laps at your drooling cunt.
He can feel your walls squeeze around him every time he hits the right spot, making his cock already start to harden again.
His tongue continues its pace, his fingers going deeper and faster. The sound of your cunt squelching makes your tummy twist, knowing how good he’s fucking you with his fingers and how wet he’s caused your pussy to be.
“That’s it, baby, can feel you squeezing me.” He worships, attaching his lips right back to your swollen clit. His pace quickens, knowing your climax was approaching.
“R-right there— mmph!” You tug harshly at his hair, the coil in your belly snapping as you feel yourself cum around his fingers and onto his lips. Your moans are nearly pornographic, and any other time you’d be embarrassed. But you were so caught up in the pleasure you couldn’t even think about anything except how good his fingers felt stretching out your gummy walls.
Steve knew your body like the back of his own hand, so he knew that you were finishing. This made his pace even more relentless, making sure to milk every last drop of your sweet juices onto his tongue.
And your sweet Steve doesn’t stop there either. He stays lapping at your cunt, tasting you, loving you, savoring you.
Your body twitches with overstimulation, whining and trying to close your legs. He forces them open, gently licking and kissing your bullied pussy.
“Taste so good,” he murmurs over and over again, kissing your clit continuously. “Love your pussy. Love you so much.”
Youre eventually so fucked out you can’t even function, sinking back onto the bed, extremely limp. This makes Steve finally pull away. Though, you’re sure if you let him, he would stay down there for hours.
Current head cannon is even though Munch hates country music, he falls for his bartender who sings along to sad old country songs on the jukebox when she thinks no one is around
If ICE-T wished a happy birthday on Twitter to someone I used to work with at Starbucks and am now only residual FB friends with, does this still mean I'm one degree away ICE-T ? Lol
** Written for Homicide!Munch**
Also the mental gymnastics I did to invent a scenario where desk sex would be possible--
It's a gray Sunday afternoon when you pull up to City Hall. Dark, ominous clouds moving in from a distance and the air humid with rain to come.
You'd just driven to John's favorite deli and picked up some sandwiches to surprise him with lunch.
He was on-call today. He had explained one time how the two homicide shifts rotate weekend call days amongst detectives. He doesn't have to be at the office, he just has to be available. Dispatch can reach him at home if needed. But he said he had some paperwork to catch-up on, so might as well go in for a few hours. He would let you know about dinner though.
It had been at least partly sunny when you were getting ready so you'd put on your favorite sun dress, but you hesitate now getting out of the car, deciding to grab your emergency umbrella.
The thought just now occurs to you that John might not even be here; he could have gotten a call already. But then --you can at least leave the sandwich on his desk if he's out.
You walk up to the second floor, past the administrative area. Thankfully John's there, at his desk. Frowning over paperwork. Jacket draped over the back of his chair, exposing his shoulder holster.
"Hi," you greet him, walking in.
"Babe, what are you doing here?" John asks somewhat disapproving.
"Just thought it would be nice to surprise you, you know? I picked up your favorite sandwich from your favorite deli."
He stands to meet you.
"You're an angel," he says, giving you a chaste kiss.
"Only for you," you smile.
Another kiss, more lingering this time, because you look good and there's no one around. You both separate reluctantly and he pulls up an extra chair so you can both sit together to eat at his desk.
As you eat, the clouds outside darken and begin to shed rain.
John looks over his shoulder through a window, concerned.
"You really shouldn't have come, sweetheart. Didn't you hear about the blow-off we'd be getting from that hurricane?"
You frown slightly remembering that you had heard something about it on the news last night but had forgotten overnight in the excitement to surprise John when you got up this morning.
"Maybe," you reply feigning ignorance and he gives you a look that's met with a horrendous crack of thunder.
"C'mon, we need to get out of here," he says standing, lightning flashing outside. "I'll drive us to my place. You shouldn't be out alone in this."
"Maybe we should just wait it out," you say mildly concerned looking past his shoulder out the window now as well.
"It could be hours babe. I know you don't want to be stuck in a city government building on a Sunday afternoon." John replies looking at you over the rim of his glasses, hands on his hips.
As if in answer there's a howling wind accompanied by more booming thunder and flashes of lightning.
He sighs, plopping back down in his chair.
"Guess we don't have a choice."
Glancing around to confirm the floor is evidently empty, you purse your lips, leaning against the corner of his desk to face him.
"It can't be that bad. I'm sure we can find some way to pass the time," you reason, fingers slipping under his tie suggestively.
John raises one dark brow.
"I love your train of thought sweetheart, really I do, but there are cameras. This is a police unit."
You frown but continue to idly play with his tie.
The lights flicker and hum, and flicker after another thunderous crash, and then go out. The whir of the air conditioning follows.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair.
"Great."
But then.
He's looking at you, dark eyes sharpening.
"You know if the power's out," he starts slowly, standing up, "that means the cameras are out."
"Oh?"
"Looks like we'll be able to pass the time after all," he says, crowding you back against his desk, arm sweeping behind you to move things aside as his mouth covers yours and he lifts you onto it's surface.
You moan spreading your legs, letting him lick eagerly into your mouth. This has been a fantasy of yours for awhile but you didn't think it would ever happen.
He palms your thighs through your dress.
"Can't believe you came here, looking like this," he rambles against your throat, "how am I supposed to get any work done, hmm? I'm supposed to be catching up on paperwork."
"Just wanted to look good for you," you breathe innocuously as he kisses your neck.
"You always look good baby," John murmurs, pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders, continuing his trail of heated kisses until he reaches the top of your breasts.
Despite being in a public space, although currently vacated, you're more vocal and needy than usual, seemingly unable to keep still, shifting restlessly, hands running here, there, and everywhere--up and down his arms, over his shoulders (fingers hitching at his holster straps), up his neck and into his hair, then his sides-- which doesn't go unnoticed.
"Feeling especially frisky today, babe?" He asks.
You bite your lip, giving him a mischievous little look.
"What? What it is?"
"It's the desk," you answer after a pause.
"The desk?"
"Yeah-- I think about it sometimes, getting fucked on your desk."
He looks a little annoyed now.
"Why didn't you say anything before? I would have cut the power and told everyone to evacuate the building myself."
You roll your eyes, playful.
"No you wouldn't."
"Well I guess we'll never know now, fuck, c'mere."
He kisses you deeply, hands pushing your dress up now, stroking soft skin, before finding the edge of your panties and pushing them aside, long fingers running lightly through the considerable wetness there.
"Fucking soaked babe," he hums.
You gasp as he eases two fingers inside you, continuing to kiss, stroking you the way that drives you crazy because sure the power is out now but who knows if the generator will kick in and he wants to cover as much ground as possible.
Teases your nipples through your dress with his free hand before slipping the straps down your shoulders and tugging down the neckline to reveal your tits.
Gorgeous. All flushed and disheveled. And on his desk.
He sits down in his chair, burying his face between your legs, tongue licking knowingly over your clit as he curls, curls his fingers. Has you cumming, one leg thrown over his shoulder, center pressed against his mouth, and gripping his hair within mere minutes. He knows how to take you apart quickly if he wants to, or rather needs to depending on circumstances.
He rises and you eagerly eye the bulge in his pants as he undoes his belt.
"How do you want it? Want me to bend you over my desk, baby?" He asks against your ear, untucking his shirt now.
A small, needy sound escapes you.
"Not yet, want you like this first," you answer, wrapping your legs around his waist and covering his mouth with yours.
John groans, freeing himself.
Doesn't waste any time sliding into you until you're full.
You just kind of cling together --kissing, kissing, kissing as he fucks you.
When he can tell you're getting close, he stops, pulls out to your dismay.
"Gonna bend you over now sweetheart," he says, voice low with warning, looking at you over his glasses.
You nod in response. He gently pulls you off the desk before expertly flipping you around as he would do any suspect, pushing you down, side of your face to his desk with a hand pinned behind your back.
You moan.
"Mmm, thought you'd like that."
He hikes up your dress to reveal the curve of your ass. Then a sudden, unexpected slight, stinging pain as he brings his hand down against it because he's not known for impulse control and this earns another moan from you.
He sighs a "Damn" under his breath.
"You like being bent over my desk baby?"
You nod and bite your lip but that's not enough.
"Say it."
Another smack to your ass.
"Yeah--yes, I like it."
He makes a soft sort of sound before gripping your hips and sliding into you again.
You're so tight like this. He's practically breathless. Let's you adjust to the change in position, casually easing his cock in and out. He soon becomes more forcible, hips snapping against yours, a hand sliding up the length of your spine and into your hair, pulling sharply.
You whine and clench around him.
He pulls again, harder, watching your profile, mouth falling open to say his name as he slams into you repeatedly. Desk things he had shoved aside dangerously close to tottering off the edge. You're suddenly dizzy, overwhelmed with pleasure as you spasm around his length, moaning and whining curses, soaking his cock and your inner thighs.
John is rambling praises upon you, thrusts becoming frantic and uneven, and he finds his release with a deep groan.
He releases your hair and palms the space between your shoulder blades, both catching your breath.
Long moments pass before he pulls out, briefly watches his release begin to leak out of your entrance before grabbing a tissue from his desk and gently wiping you clean, sliding your ruined underwear back into place.
You hum contented, stretched over his desk, temporarily too loose to stand up, muscles reluctant to move.
There's more kissing when you finally do manage to right yourself --why not, the power hasn't shown any sign of recovering though the rain has somewhat lightened.
"Guess I'm going to be volunteering to cover more weekend call," John observes pleasantly, "still--have to throw the breaker for the cameras."
You gasp but can only bring yourself to half scold him.
Brb just gonna crash out because I had an interview on Wednesday that was hiring 15 positions that I'm completely, absolutely qualified for and I thought the interview went great like how could they Not make me an offer but just got the rejection e-mail today so just fuck me right lmao
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