sinnyb0x

[sinnyb0x]

Robot fuckers rise up I have sammich for you

Full on Bsky 🦋

[sinnyb0x]

I need to draw unspeakable things with Steb again

[sinnyb0x]

the taste of you on my lips

steb/gn!reader

warnings: blow job, paramedic!steb, light ptsd mentions, steb has a hemipenis + cock frills, come swallowing, submissive!steb, post canon, selectively mute!steb, 18+ MDNI, 3k words

synopsis: Being a paramedic is tiring; you think he deserves a reward. (you eat him out then suck him off <3)

read on ao3 | ao3 profile | ao3 collection | masterlist

You’d barely seen a lick of Steb since his career change. It wasn’t unexpected, you’d talked for a long time about what it would mean — him becoming a fully fledged paramedic — but words were nothing like the reality you were waking up to.

It was for the best, so you couldn’t say you minded it too badly, it certainly beat watching him freeze up for moments at a time as he put his old enforcer uniform on in the mornings. The fight against Noxus had done a number on him; not surprising, you knew what he’d lost, two of his few friends as well as a significant amount of faith in himself. You didn’t miss the subtle fight in his expression, like he was cutting through the memories of a similar uniform, bloodsoaked and pressed to the floor by a cooling body.

You couldn’t say you minded the new uniform either, Steb certainly cut a stunning figure dolled up in paramedic cargos and a thick, deep blue button-up. Boring, yes, but he made the practicality of the look pop. You’d tell him how nice his shoulders looked most days, hands sliding lazily around his pretty waist — fingers ghosting his belt buckle but never giving it more than a playful tug.

Neat, he looked neat and you were loving it. You’d mess him up if he wasn’t coming home already bedraggled most days. 

Steb would walk in, usually long after dark, with his hair falling out of its slick style and an exhausted look in his eyes. He told you it was satisfying, to be able to help people without thinking about how he could be hurting more people than he was helping; tired, sore hands waved, speaking of how he’d always had an interest in medicine, that it was a good feeling to learn and practice it more.

You’d smile at him, unbuttoning his shirt to get it away from his neck and the gentle dorsal fin that decorated the back of it, slipping below his collar, when he slumped next to you on the couch. It was hot to see him so dishevelled, the slight but still noticeable loving smile he’d shoot back at you, but at the same time it pained you to see him so run ragged, you didn’t want to completely exhaust him but you’d been sorely missing him.

There was only so much the drag of your pillows could replace, even when all your sheets smelled of Steb. The clinging scent of his soap only made you salivate more, dragging frustrated whines from you when fabric failed to live up to skin.

You didn’t want to tire him out more, but you wanted your hands on him, you wanted your skin on his with more motion than just late night cockwarming, it was getting desperate. You missed the way his body reacted to you, the gorgeous arch of his back and the way his head would tip back in a silent moan — the sweetest reward you could ever earn. You ached for more, to see it, to have it again.

It was a craving that made itself apparent in your dreams, leaving you sweaty and needing when you woke up with him in time for his early shift. You closed your eyes as you calmed down, arm slung over your face like you weren’t sure you could trust yourself if you saw his bare body as he got dressed — you’d hate to make him late. 

You missed the way Steb wanted you too.

It felt like he was struggling to swim, he wasn’t in possession of the highest libido ever but even a man who isn’t hungry will start to feel a tug in his gut when he’s around pure temptation for so long. The lack of action was starting to rattle his skull, you were so close but so far out of the reach of his aching arms, and he found no release of his own.

Steb found a new side to you, not much different than anything he’d seen before, but through his blurring vision you looked like an angel when you unwinded next to him. So soft, his, for the taking if he wanted. The way he found himself barely able to function through the fog of a hard day’s work was torture when he could be pulling pleasure from you. As nice as the warmth that gathered in the line between your bodies was, it was searing him with a lewder kind of heat. 

Thank god you finally snapped under the weight of your desire, falling onto the couch with him for a few long moments before the itch to smother him in lusting touches got too intense to bear.

You swung your leg over Steb’s narrow hips, sliding into his lap with delicious ease. His hands cradled your hips, your weight not unfamiliar on top of him. It sparked a fire in his groin, even though there wasn’t anything that suggested sex explicitly, and he swallowed as his fingers dug into the flesh beneath them — even while quietly wanting, he was polite enough to consider that maybe that wasn’t what you were intending.

That train of thought was thrown out quickly as you whispered how much you missed him against his lips, arching into his slouched body with a roll of your hips. There was an enticing smile, sultry to the point of almost being smug, that stretched across your lips when he shuddered at your fingertips ghosting the sensitive tips of his ears.

The burn was low, but it soaked into all his muscles as you kissed him deeply, pushing his head back far enough for his neck to rest comfortably against the back of the couch. Your tongue in his mouth felt like heaven, satisfying in ways he hadn’t realised were missing the feeling as you licked your way past bitten-soft lips.

You moaned against his tongue, the sound tasted sweet and it nearly made him tremble, tiredness exchanged for raw exhilaration as he felt his cock jump. The roll of your hips as you grinded against him made him purr on the inside, happy to get you off, happy to be the one dragging pretty noises from your throat.

Your fingers slid over his shirt, reaching for the rest of his buttons and nearly tearing them off, fingertips meeting the skin beneath  — featherlight and warm. 

Pulling back with the slick feeling of your tongue slipping against his, from his lips, you let your hands skim down his sides, halfway under his uniform shirt. You watched his chest heave as one of your hands brushed the curve of his spine, the other planted firmly on his stomach and delighting in the feeling of the muscles underneath it tensing and stretching as he subtly arched at your touch.

“You’ve been so busy,” you murmured, a seductive lilt in your tone as your fingers made tingling trails towards the belt of his cargos, “so good, let me take care of you…”

You trailed off, going from staring at the frosty blue of Steb’s eyes, fogged over with heat that soaked through the rest of his body like a hot bath, to burning a path all the way down to his crotch; pressed to yours where you could feel his cock, not quite out, but swelling inside enough for you to feel the twitch against your pelvis. You ached to touch him, want pooling deep in your gut, and you swallowed; licking your lips at the thought of having him in your mouth, having your tongue in him.

Steb hands groped your hips, grinding against the curve of your ass until you knocked his hands off with a loving giggle.

“Let me take care of you. You don’t have to do anything, you just have to take it.” You whispered, gentle smile turning sharper with the promise of making him feel good and the high of making him writhe under you that never got old. How hard the image of Steb coming down your throat, built up of obscene memories, hit you almost surprised you — the shiver racing up your spine felt like several hundred volts at least.

You waited until he nodded, cheeks painted with a thick blush, before you let hushed praises tumble from your lips as you slid off his lap onto the floor.

The press of your knees against the living room carpet felt more apparent than ever as you let your hands drag down Steb’s body, watching his eyes flicker, conflicted with the want to watch you and your hands as they made a show of playing with the buckle of his belt at once.

There was a move to shuck his shirt off, but you stopped that quickly; your hand caught his wrist in a flash, pulling his hand towards your head instead, and you shot him a sly smile as you drawled him, “leave it, it looks good on you.”

The frills decorating his cheekbones pulsed in surprise, blush travelling to his ears that flicked at your boldness as well as the thought of how much sweat would end up soaking into the back of his uniform. It shouldn’t have sent another blistering wave down his sides, but there it was, making him squirm — frills standing on end at the thought.

Your hands stopped at his zipper, and he became distinctly aware of how laboured his breathing had gotten. So pent up, but so sluggish he hadn’t even noticed how badly he was affected by you, your hands, and the way you eyed him like he was the most mouthwatering cut of meat you’d ever seen. It was so different to how you usually took him in, staring like you were drunk on the sight of him, captivated — right now, you looked hungry, like you wanted to play with your food.

“You’ve had a long day.” You uttered, staring almost unblinkingly into Steb’s eyes — bordering on predatory. Your breath warmed the skin of his stomach, dangerously gentle, dangerously close to his waistband, and he nearly shivered. “Can I taste it?”

A silent whine caught in the back of Steb’s throat, eyes blowing wide as his cock stirred lazily in his gut — neediness rising all the way to his chest, burning consumingly hot and knocking any thoughts of being too tired away with ease. He didn’t even recognise when he’d started nodding so vigorously, chest starting to judder with each slow heave.

Satisfied, smug, starving, you descended to trail kisses along his navel, spreading his legs wider apart to claim the space — chest nearly flush with the crotch of his uniform cargos as your hands and lips brushed up and then down his quickly heating, mostly clothed body like the wash of a wave on the shore. 

Your hands made quick work of his fly, glancing up only to get an eyeful of the desperate, blushing mess forming above you. It stroked the smouldering coals of your ego, watching him start to fall apart so easily — he wanted you, your mouth on him. You didn’t watch your hands slide his cargos down his smooth, supple thighs, too caught up in the arch and rise of his body; achingly graceful despite the obvious desire that quickened the sight. 

You nearly licked your lips at the thin string of slick that clung to Steb’s underwear as you pulled them down too, he was so eager — god you wished he’d told you sooner. You’d have been more than happy to please, always.

You tugged him forward by the hips once he’d settled again, forcing him to lay back as best he could against the back of the couch, with the slit hiding his cock — wet, swollen and parting — scant centimetres from your face. The heady scent of his sex was mouthwatering, you almost felt literally hungry as your tongue darted out.

The tip of it ran along the slit so gently, feeling the slight pulse of Steb’s soft flesh under your tongue so distinctly. Not enough, he nearly bucked against the feeling — so sensitive. You couldn’t help but smile, self-satisfied with how you could tease him so deliciously easy.

A fuller lick of your tongue had his head tipping back with a gasp, thighs twitching around your jaw, hands jerking to grip the arm of the couch. It encouraged you to take another, then another, slowly, tenderly working him up on your tongue before you dipped your tongue inside his folds. You chased the lowering tip of his cock in the slick, internal sheath it resided in, your eyes fluttering shut with the roll of Steb’s hips at the intrusion — bodily tang coating your tongue thickly, you moaned quietly against him.

The flick of your tongue over his cockhead set a loud groan loose, falling to your ears so beautifully, and you gave his slit a parting kiss as you pulled away. He whined at the loss, foggy eyes glistening as they gazed at the sheen of slick decorating your chin and the sight of your mouth still open and panting as you reached for the hem of his open shirt.

“You don’t want the neighbours to hear, do you? It’s pretty late, you know?” You coaxed, almost condescending as you balled the fabric in your fist and reached up to shove it between his teeth. Spit soaked it obscenely quickly, a muffled whine caught in the somewhat coarse threads. You hummed approvingly, “good.”

The same teeth bit down hard at the feeling of your soft tongue returning to lavishing him with your tongue, borderline making out with his wet slit — luring out his cock with a thick blush stuck on both of your cheeks at the growing feeling of it, the push against your tongue as it stiffened on its way out. You lapped at it wetly, saliva melting into the slick that coated it, then hollowed your cheeks around the throbbing flesh in a way that had Steb scrambling to grip at any of the plush couch he could reach.

The slow but desperate cant of his hips pressed his cock further into your mouth, like the simmer of pleasure in his gut — your mouth felt so good. Hot, almost too hot, and never letting up on the way your soft cheeks brushed against the frills pulsing down the sides of his erection, chased by the savouring tease of your tongue. The way you worked him up was purposeful, dragging the build up to his orgasm out like a nice glass of wine, like you were more focused on worshipping him than getting him off until a breathy whine from his throat made your pace stutter.

Your eyes, glinting in the low light, pupils blown so wide he could mistake you for being drunk, stared up at him — utterly fixated. It, and the begging look he could feel on his face, seemed to spur you on, and he watched as you swallowed down his wholly emerged cock until the overwhelmingly lewd feeling of his tip pressing against the back of your throat tipped his head back in a silent groan.

Quicker, like you were running out of patience, too hungry to tease, you bobbed your head and ignored the sting of tears in your eyes — the lightheadedness making the feeling of Steb’s cock so satisfying, fulfilling a need you hadn’t realised was so neglected. The tensing of his thighs under your fingers, nails pressed lightly into the skin for leverage sparking pretty sensations just underneath, was like the sweetest reward.

His heaving and panting grew more laboured, interrupted by caught breaths and quiet moans as you sucked him off, pulling the coil in his gut tighter, pushing tiredness to the very edge of his consciousness along with his worries. The buck of his hips was earnest, knuckles turning white against the fabric it clutched — trying not to grip you by the hair, he didn’t trust his hands, too jittery with the way it felt like his blood was electric. The way his abdomen tensed was almost unbelievable compared to the unravelling feeling from just a minute ago.

You perked at the sound of Steb growing louder, latching onto every every note and giving him more; you tongue laving at his frills until he writhed under your palms, twitching in your mouth as the burning feeling consumed him entirely. The way his mouth hung open, eyebrows knitted together, was addictive — so pretty, obscene and perverted in absolute contrast to his usual self. There was a sense of pride when it came to tugging reactions like that out of him.

His writhing stuttered, hips jerking as he came hard, much harder than he thought he would but the thought was lost to the electric, boneless, feeling that cleared sense from his head that fell back against the couch.

You gagged on the come gushing down your throat, swallowing around his cock in a way that made him twitch violently — stomach muscles convulsing in front of your blurry eyes. You kept Steb in your mouth until you saw him start to come down from his high, pulling away — he jerked in oversensitivity, thighs almost clamping around your head.

Teasingly, because you knew he preferred to be neat, you showed him your tongue as you leaned back — thin strings of saliva keeping you connected to the flushed head of his cock. You wiped them away with a grin at the way he blushed impossibly brighter, and laughed a little hoarsely when he turned his face away from you, ears pointed bashfully downwards. 

As spent as he was, you could see some of the tension slip from your shoulders which made your heart twinge; he was doing so well, working through so much, changing — you thought he deserved the world.

You heaved yourself from your knees onto the couch, slumping into Steb’s side as you caught your breath, closing your eyes in contentment.

“Stay like this for a while, then shower?” You hummed, posing a little plan that stated what was somewhat obvious, and Steb leaned into the feeling of your voice — blissed out sleepiness soaking into his muscles. You snorted, “then bed.”

He smiled and nodded, which you felt as his warm cheek brushed the side of your head. He tilted his head slightly, nose brushing against the space just above your ear, and murmured a contented little ‘thank you’ against your skin that you couldn’t help but lose yourself in. A tiny kiss was pressed to the shell of your ear, a little ‘I love you’.

A/N: here's the self indulgent fic, my excuse to write about sucking off a healthcare worker, sorry it took a moment but heyyyy glitter divider!! shiny sparkly!!!

banner cr: @/cafekitsune

[sinnyb0x]

Woah!! Say gex real!!!!

Source

[sinnyb0x]

I must ask…d…does Cleave use the same "escape plan" as vultures too?

I think technically he probably could, but would he willingly do it? No SDHSD he has other more effective ways to keep people off of him.

Although I can imagine if he (or anyone) threatened to throw up on someone, they wouldn't wanna stick around and find out if he'll actually do it x'D

☝️Plus!!! That's the one thing he doesn't like doing and actively wants to avoid doing. He has some dignity (Thankfully).

[sinnyb0x]

Sunk Too Far🪝

Based off of fanfic by @vieoeil-riae! (Minors DNI) 💖💖💖

🔞READ HERE🔞 go show this fic lots of love!!! 🥺🥺🥺

[sinnyb0x]

Steb eating a croissant for breakfast, because I've decided he's French (or at least of French heritage :D)

Little bonus, he was your breakfast eheh !

Thx @neuvilette-tea-party for the idea ! ♥

[sinnyb0x]

kicking off this year by animating NSFW in the first month was not on my bingo card but not unwelcomed.

... Yes it's of Steb and Cleave... 🧍

[sinnyb0x]

｡ﾟ•┈୨ Le temps de guérir Part 3 ୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Steb x F!reader

Part 1 - Part 2

You almost have a heart attack remembering your mentor and secret crush is now your unfortunate roommate, what else life has in store for you now, heh? Probably nothing more, surely...

Tags: Angst/comfort, fluff, pining, Steb definitely has guilt and PTSD, slow burn, forced proximity, bed bugs, shared shower, inadvertently erotic contact, community, oh no! there was only one bed!

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

You stretch with a grumble, feeling a headache approaching. You lay down your arms with a deep sigh, observing your bedroom, sniffing with the lack of order all around. Books, clothes, and a dirty plate on the ground. 

You have to clean all that... 

You yawn as you lazily go down your stairs, scratching your tummy, barely seeing in front of you with your eyes still full of sleep. You immediately head out to your kitchenette to prepare a well-needed warm coffee. 

You are in full zombie mode, in complete autopilot as you pour the water in and dose the beans. You yawn behind your hand as you lay against the counter waiting for the coffee maker to heat up when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. 

You jump out of your skin and almost trip on your feet. 

“Dear...! Steb!” You shout, your heart sprinting in your ribcage like it would burst out any second, “Wha... Why are you here?!” You ask, flabbergasted. 

He freezes mid-signing like he doesn’t know how to explain what is evident while all comes back to you like a punch in your guts. 

The war, the kiss, the tension, the movie, your new roommate... 

You facepalm yourself as your heart calms down slowly. 

Dear gods, why did you have such a stupid idea? You berate yourself, hand on your knees 

Steb looks at you, not knowing how to help without worsening the situation. You feel him put his hand on your shoulder delicately, unsure. 

“It’s all right, It’s okay. I’m fine.” You temper with a thumb up, “Thank you Steb, it’s okay.” You stand back straight with a deep sigh, grounding you, “I’m fine, I promise!” You smile at him. 

He slowly nods, releasing your shoulder, a hand scratching his neck. 

“Have you been awake for a long time? Did you eat?” You ask. 

He shakes his head. 

“Oh Steb, you shouldn’t have waited for me like that. You’re at home here, you can rummage around and make your favorite breakfast, I don’t mind.” You explain, opening your cabinets, “What do you want? I can cook for you.” 

He immediately shakes his head and hands. 

“Taratatatatatata, mister. You are my guest, it’s my role to take care of you! I make killer chocolate chip pancakes, you’ll see!” You take out your large bowl and eggs. 

Steb immediately signs you his intention, before scratching his neck. 

“You don’t have to help, you know.”  

He sharply shakes his head, notifying you that he won’t back down. 

“Okay, okay, well... I don’t have chocolate chips anymore, do you mind cutting the chocolate tablets?” 

You both wash your hands and start working. 

You gulp, feeling yourself fidgety next to him. You give quick glances as he slices the tablet expertly with your big knife, clearly at ease with a blade. Your worktop is so small that you regularly hit each other elbows, creating knots in your stomach. 

Steb is unaware of your turmoil and is fully focused on his task to make the best chocolate shards ever! 

You whisk your dough until it is all shiny and liquid, mix everything, pour it into the hot pan with a cube of butter, and cook them. You flip them with your spatula when you notice Steb scratching his side with a wince, making you frown. 

You serve the golden pancakes on two plates while Steb takes some topping off the cupboards and you go to sit and eat. As you push Steb’s plate toward him you see him desperately scratching the back of his neck with gritted teeth. 

“Why are you scratching yourself like that?” You ask, looking at Steb scratching his arm. 

He shrugs but winces in clear discomfort, never stopping the scratching. You squint at him and gasp. 

“Steb! You are red all over!” You skirt the table to approach him and pull on the collar of the baggy shirt. 

Sure enough, his neck is reddish and swollen as he scratches so much, and spreads all over his arms and surely his entire torso. Rashes all over his beautiful green scales. He picks up something off his neck and examines it between his two fingers, squinting. 

His eyes round up and he jumps on his feet, grabs your hand, and pulls you on your feet, sprinting up the stairs. You can’t ask a single question he pushes you inside the bathroom with him and starts undressing before your very eyes. 

You look at him, not knowing what to do about all that or yourself. Once he stripped down to his boxers he turns to you with a serious gaze and approaches his hands from your clothes. You slap them away immediately. 

“What is this all about?” You demand. 

You’re not about to let him undress you like that! Not without a nice drink first! 

He looks dead serious as he signs. 

“Zaunites bed bugs?!” You choke. 

No need to tell you twice, you start undressing at once!  

Disgusting little bugs! 

Steb opens your buttons, helping you out before you throw all the clothes in the washer and turn it to the maximum temperature. 

You are now both practically naked in the same cramped room. But frankly? You can’t give a crap, those critters are a real nuisance! 

Steb grabs your arm and enters the tub, pulling you with him. He seizes the shower head and blasts you with fuming hot water. You sit on your ankles as he visibly knows how to treat the problem and lets him soak you, he scrubs your hair vigorously to drown the disgusting little bugs. 

Yurk! 

You feel his large hand traveling your body as he searches for the nasty critters, hearing a low growl emanating from the aquatic Vastaya behind you.  

You are not especially knowledgeable on bugs, but each year Piltover and Zaun have an invasion of the creatures, and outside of devouring any fabrics of a house, they spread a lot of blood diseases, sometimes mortal ones... 

You mentally slap yourself as you realize your undergarments are now see-through... That became a habit quickly, huh?  

Steb turns the water off and makes you spin towards him, pulling you back on your feet. You try with more or less success to modestly cover yourself but his eyes are so deadly focused, like during your missions together, you understand that he does not realize the situation himself! 

His mind is focused on getting rid of any bug on your skin right now. 

He frowns, turning your face at every angle, his ears shaking in anger. He lowers himself before you as he inspects your chest, your tummy, and your legs, pinching the skin here and there. His face is right at the same level as your groin region.  

You gingerly cover the region as naturally as you can, but as a perfectly professional Medic, Steb doesn’t register that detail, fully focused on his medical task. 

He manipulates your limbs with great precaution, his ocean eyes scanning your exposed skin like a robot. 

You do not disturb him in his task, only fidgeting your fingers. It turned weird really fast, exactly as you predicted! You reject him, invite him to live with you, watch an erotic movie, and end up practically naked together in the same tub... 

If the god playing with you could take a five minutes break, you would appreciate... 

He finally nods to himself and helps you get out of the tub. You take out a clean towel and scrub your body after checking it while Steb repeats the operation on himself, blasting fuming water on his scales. 

He took you by such surprise it did not occur to you to tell him that you did not feel itchy at all... But better safe than sorry! 

Coughing, you open the window for fresh air and for the steam to escape. You rummage through your cabinet until you find an old lemon perfume. 

The lemon and the alcohol repel those little monsters and you vaporize it all over your exposed body. 

You try to put some in your back when Steb exits the tub and comes to help. He takes the bottle and gently applies a layer on your back, delicately massaging the skin with the perfume. 

“Thank you. Turn around, I’ll do your back!” You announce, agitating a pair of tweezers. 

Steb sits on his ankles on the ground as you kneel behind him, tracing his scales to find the parasites. Those little bastards love nudging themself between two layers of scales, you take out five sipping well-hidden but dead, fortunately. 

You meticulously inspect his large back, moving his back fins around delicately like a paper sheet but each time you brush them a strange shudder shakes his shoulders, his chest trembling slightly. It must still be sensitive after his wounds, you press your lips.   

“I think it’s go-Oh my Lord they are some in your gills!” You notice as you inspect his back neck. 

You trace one gill to slightly open it but Steb grabs your hand, his breath short, squeezing it lightly. 

You have like a deja vue sensation. 

He releases your hand with a short breath, the tip of his ears trembling, and starts signing. You gulp as the ground opens up under you. Fins and gills are erogenous zones for aquatic Vastayas, and you’ve been manipulating them around while Steb had to take it all silently. 

“Thank you for telling me straight, Steb. I’ll be cautious.” You promise. 

5 minutes, JUST 5 MINUTES for goodness sake! 

The good news is that the water drowned and burnt most of the critters on his body so they come without difficulties. You delicately pull out the last ones, mindful of his gills and fins all over his body, and spray him down with the lemon perfume while he gulps, still tensed after that unfortunate erotic contact. 

You hand him a towel and he pats himself gently before wrapping it around his waist, skin still bruised and reddish but his expression is appeased. 

You sit down, wrapped in your towel and he imitates you, both catching your breath. 

“Damn bugs!” You let out. 

Steb nods slowly, a thin smile appearing on his lips and then gently chuckles. You look at him with a raised eyebrow as he rubs his face with his hands, throwing his head backward as his large shaken by his laugh, and after an instant you join him, unable to refrain from your own giggling. 

Really, nothing will be spared to you two! 

You both finish with a deep sigh, your feet grazing. 

“God damn...” You grin, more amused than worried now. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

You close the living room door and lock it with the key. 

“All right, we don’t have a sofa bed or a kitchen for the next 48 hours for the product to take effect.” You announce. 

Steb nods, back in his enforcer uniform that has been spared in the bathroom. 

No upper room has been touched by the critters and everything seemed to have come from your old sofa bed. 

The invasion was quite early, still! 

“No more movies too.” 

He shrugs with a lopsided grin. 

“I don’t know you but I'm fed up with that house for now, let’s get outside!” 

He nods eagerly and you pass on a coat end exit your nest to discover Piltover under a thin drizzle. You smile as you see Steb twitching his ears and opening his gills wide in the mist. You nudge him and you head up wherever your steps decide to guide you. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“Dear gods...” You let out. 

Your steps guided you to ruins. 

Steb’s house ruins to be more precise. 

Nothing is left, all walls are down, no furniture survived, and it is only a hill of rubble. 

Steb walks among the rest of his past with a closed but calm expression while you feel on the verge of tears. 

This is... so unfair. 

He did so much more than you, so why is he the one who lost everything? 

You walk among the fragments of walls and roof scattered everywhere at a loss for words. You cough with the impressive amount of dust around, detailing the pure waste of all of this is... 

An entire life 

Disintegrated in a matter of minutes... 

You take another step and lower your gaze as you hear the sound of glass, realizing that you stepped on a picture frame. You crouch to grab the picture delicately, discovering who you think is a younger Steb between two adults Vastaya, smiling brightly at the camera. 

The frame is ruined but the picture itself is miraculously intact, like a small miracle. 

You admire this instant of happiness suspended in time itself with a fond smile, discovering a tight, united family. 

You approach Steb who just managed to pull out the parts of a destroyed electronic piano from the debris. You hand him the picture with a reassuring smile and he takes it, almost apprehensively, and admires it, his cheek scales waving intensely. He stands back up, eyes still fixed on the pictures as he gulps, almost like he is about to cry. 

You look at him a bit worried but no tears roll down, he only fixes the smiles on the paper, eyes foggy with emotions. 

“Hey! HEY! You! The enforcer! Come here!” A displeasing voice rises up behind you. 

Steb does not move like paralyzed by the photo. 

“Come here right now!” 

You snarl and spin to discover an angry man with a woman following him, worried. You slide down the rubble and approach, frowning. 

Now is not the time! 

“Not you! The enforcer!” He dismisses you with a gesture of the hand like you were nothing. 

You sniff and take out your enforcer badge. 

“I am an enforcer. What do you want?” 

“We want all the persons responsible for all of this!” He gestures to the destroyed neighborhood, “All the houses have been destroyed or pillaged, we saw none of you come to help us during the battle and now nobody came to help us rebuild! What are you doing exactly?!” 

“We are doing what we can, sir. The building teams will be here shortly!” 

“We’ve been served that charade for 3 weeks! And we see no one coming! What are we supposed to do, grab you all by the collar for you to finally do your job?” 

“Sir, please calm down-” 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, I have children, we are abandoned. What do you plan to do to help us? Or do you intend to only rebuild the neighborhood of the nobles?” 

“Everyone will receive help, no one will be left behind.” 

“We’ve been left behind decades ago. You enforcers are here to protect the money of the upper crust and walk all over us! What did you two do during the war? Huh!? Anything?! You did something, enforcer?!” He shouts at Steb on top of the fuming remains of his house. 

“Sir! If you want to scream at someone, I am right here!” You make a barrage with your own body, blocking the enraged man, “Leave him in peace, he needs time.” 

“OH? Oh, he needs time, does he?! What a luxury, I can’t afford that luxury! I lost my house! Can he even understand that?” 

“Yes, Sir, he can very well. This is his own house in ruins right here. Believe me, he understands perfectly your situation. We have a lot of teams working, someone will come and help. You need to trust me.” 

“To trust?! Do you hear yourself?! We... We...” He stops shouting, voice overflowed by tears, breaking down in front of you. 

The woman circles his shoulders to press him tight while your throat dries out. 

What to say? 

You have nothing to say to soothe such a wound, to appease such a trauma. All of those lives ruined, how many will truly be able to rebuild solid foundations and move on? 

“Please...” The woman quietly says raising her eyes to you, “Just... Tell us Piltover didn’t forget about us.” 

“No Ma’am. Piltover did not forget about any of its citizens. Ste... My colleague is in contact with someone really high up in the Kiramman family, he can plead for teams to be redirected toward you. We will do everything we can to help everyone, but it takes a lot of time.” 

She lowers her gaze pensively and nods, taking the man still crying away to leave you alone. 

You look at them walking away from you with a bitter taste in your mouth. 

You are sure Piltover’s efforts will be redirected toward those neighborhoods... At some point. 

But when? 

A week? Several? 4 months? 2 years? 

You bury your hands in your coat’s pocket with a gulp, feeling a bit dirty, and spin back toward Steb, still on the top of the rubbles. 

He slightly turns his head in your direction as he hears you approach and hurriedly wipes something off on his cheek and folds the pictures to put it in his chest pocket as you finally reach him. 

His breath comes back to normal but his eyes are swollen and red, looking in the distance. 

He turns to you with a very tight smile and moves his hands into a question. 

“They... They just wanted some information.” 

He tilts his head and asks again. 

“Yes, you may be able to help them in fact. But not now... We are here for you.” You gently smile, looking into his swollen eyes. 

He shortly nods, blinking his third eyelids. 

But you know... Deep down he feels useless and responsible. He still did not explain to you what happened, but he wears the weight of his regrets on his face with low ears and shoulders. 

You take his shoulder with your hand and squeeze it as he did so much for you under his tutelage when doubts were swarming you. 

“Hey... I am here with you. We will surpass all of that, together. Okay?” 

His smile reappears shortly as his ears shake quickly. 

“I am not abandoning you now. Come on! I’m sure there are still some memories buried under the  rubble, we are not leaving with empty hands, I promise you!” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“I did not know you played violin!” You exclaim, pressing the family pictures book against your chest as you walk towards the Grand Park. 

Steb readjusts the strap of the violin case on his shoulder as he explains. 

He has been playing the violin since early childhood, his parents wanted him to get into a group of friends the same age after they moved into Piltover. Apparently, baby Steb was quite shy and preferred the company of books and adults. 

You give him a side look. 

Evidently, seeing his house destroyed again weight on his mind, but he is evidently happy to have found the book intact, protected by a bookcase that fell just around it, and his face illuminated when you triumphantly lifted the violin case out of the debris with a stupid victory dance. 

It will never be enough, but it is something at last... 

His hand doesn’t release the strap of the case, holding it firmly like he was afraid it would disappear all of a sudden like the rest. The case is a bit dusty and bumpy but the violin is untouched, thank the Gods. 

Steb suddenly stops before a building, making you turn to him with questions. 

“A hotel?” 

He nods with swift signs. 

“Yes, you can’t sleep on the sofa for two days, but I’m not kicking you out.” You explain as you approach him with a confused frown, “You can still sleep in the house.” 

He tilts his head, asking. 

“Well, my... Bed.” It downs on you as you say it out loud. 

But your bed is the last place to sleep in your little house. 

His throat muscles tighten as his turquoise eyes round-up with the surprise. 

You press your lips in a thin line, fidgeting your fingers. 

Yep, yep, yep... 5 minutes of peace right? 

But you can’t just kick him out to a hotel like that? All his stuff are at your place. 

“Listen. We shouldn’t spread the bugs more than they already invaded the city. It’s only a matter of two nights.” 

He tilts his head left and right, debating the rights and wrongs of that situation. 

“You don’t even know the state of the rooms in that hotel, most of them may be destroyed and you still need a workstation.” You close the matter. 

You spin away to let him see the fire spreading in your cheeks, heating up like crazy. 

He follows you diligently as you pass the gates of the Grand Park of Progress and realize a lot of people are here.  

“Ah! I think there is a shelter nearby!” You remember. 

A lot of families with children are here, looking exhausted but with small smiles, simply happy to be able to enjoy the park for one hour or two and get some fresh air. Parents look tenderly at their kids coursing each other and sliding down the slides or swaying on the swings. 

A small moment of peace. 

There is even a small merchant of ice cream back in business! 

You both sit down on a bench, Steb wrapped his enforcer jacket around his hips for more anonymity and you simply observe the passersby, inhaling the fresh air with some relief. You look at the children running around and laughing with a smile and turn your head as you hear a baby crying not far away. 

You jump on the bench as you hear a squeaky sound right next to you and see Steb adjusting the cords of his violin, tightening them before trying again, repositioning his long fingers. 

A long, clear note rises in the sky as he slides his bow gently on the cords. 

You silently admire him as he tests his instrument with different positions, different notes ringing deliciously in the air. He looks so focused, his hands and fingers moving along the instruments with fineness, like a caress, creating magnificent sounds. 

He turns his eyes to you as he feels your insistent gaze on him, his gaze traveling between you and the violin in a silent question. You immediately raise your hand in an appeasing manner. 

“I don’t mind at all! I love music, it’s great being able to see a musician this close!” You invite him to continue. 

He nods, a bit relieved, and straightens his back as he clears his throat, laying the bow on the cords and making it slide again. 

He starts an infinitely tender melody you never heard before but would suit a lullaby wonderfully. You listen, eyes fixed on your mentor, gently cradling yourself to his music. 

It is beautiful and also terribly sad. 

When you listen to that melody you feel like listening to a tragedy, a story full of hope that will never have a good ending no matter the efforts to correct fate. 

You gulp as you feel your throat contracting under rising tears. 

This is the kind of sadness you can deal with and revel in, a cathartic emotion created by a skillful artist to alleviate everyone’s heart once the tragedy ends. 

A moment of elegance and refinement. 

Even the wind subdued just enough to carry the notes farther without drowning them. 

You sigh, transported so far away from your mortal body, like you were on a new plan. 

A magical plan, where music notes and heartbeats are the same, creating a powerful symphony of vibrant memories and dreams. A silent tear rolls down your closed eyes as you let yourself submerged by the emotions Steb creates with his skillful hands. 

You think even the baby stopped crying, soothed by the soft melody. 

You gasp, taking a shaky breath as Steb makes his cords resonate a last time as the melody ends. 

It was... Marvelous, gut-wrenching, and you needed it you realize. 

You reopen your eyes as you feel a knuckle caressing your cheek, discovering Steb wiping a tear off your skin with concerned eyes on you. 

You cannot help but smile his way, your heart a little bit lighter thanks to him.  

You sigh and look around, realizing several people joined in a circle around your bench to listen to Steb’s music. 

“You have fans, superstar.” You grin at him. 

His ears shake with a rosy shade spreading on his cheeks. He must not be used to have a large audience. 

“Hey!” A voice rises, commanding both of your attentions. 

A human woman and another Vastaya, a canine one, break the circle with a flute and a djembe to come closer. 

They are more probably Zaunites than Piltovians, judging by their clothes. 

“A jolly folly, you know this one?” She asks. 

Steb nods and stands up. 

“One, two, thee...” She counts down. 

And they start a new melody, much more joyful and rhythmic. A lot of people start clapping in rhythm, familiar with the music, some grab a partner and start swaying together. You snap your fingers as you bob your head up and down, your feet twitching with the desire to dance. 

The three musicians harmonize together as the crowd grows more and more, captivated by the joyful music. 

Desperate for just a moment of frivolity. 

The tempo wins over Steb he taps his foot and tilts his bust left and right with playfulness as the flutist bobs up and down with him, a smile wrapped around the flute’s head.  

Everyone around you dances in some way, with partners or alone. Several couples start swinging with impressive mastery as others just sway their arms together. 

A large round dance around the musicians starts to form and someone grabs your hand to invite you in. 

You all strut around them in a circle, raising your arms in a hola with loud laughs. You cannot help but laugh yourself, holding on to the two persons’s hands while you spin, focused on Steb playing his violin. 

He is really good you came to realize. The temp is very fast and you don’t think you hear any false notes coming from him. 

The other two are really good too! They have evidently been playing for long years and it shows. 

Steb and the woman stop, letting the percussionist throw himself in a frenzied solo with big smiles on their faces, abandoning themself to the art. 

It culminates in a grand final with high, quick notes and a furious tempo making you want to dance until the end of the night! 

No matter what happened, Piltover is still here, still standing! 

And you are all still alive! 

The last notes resonate under the applause and the shouts of the audience that grew exponentially during the piece. You clap your hands hard, breathless, and heads spinning while Steb nods and shakes hands with the two Zaunites, happy about this fleeting moment.  

He passes back the case in his back, grabs the book, and heads towards you as the two musicians start a new music with an enthusiastic public. He nods and waves to people patting his shoulder, thanking him for his talent. 

You both rejoin, pantless and a bit sweaty, but definitely happier. 

“It was really, really good, Steb! You have a real talent.” You try to catch your breath, hands on your hips while he humbly accepts your praise with a nod and shaking cheek scales. 

“Come on, I’ll pay you an ice cream for your performance!” You giggle. 

You walk along the bank of the Park’s lake, licking your ice cream cones with childish delight. It is much less crowded around here, much more peaceful and calm. 

You sit down on a new bench, facing the lake where ducks gently swim, a couple of swans just a little farther. You let out a deep satisfied sigh, contemplating the view. 

“If you want to take a dive, I'll hold your cone.” You teasingly propose. 

Steb chuckles as he bites down his ice cream, his gills wide open to take as much fresh air as possible. You chuckle with him as the sun slowly starts to go down, painting the sky in pink and mauve shades. 

“This is beautiful...” You let out, admiring the scenery. 

Steb nods slowly with a deep breath. 

“I love this city... Despite all of its failures and defaults.” You admit, nodding to yourself. 

He spins his head towards you, tilting it with questions. 

“Okay... I don’t like everything! There are some aspects that can be improved. A lot. But still. There are worse places to live in.” 

He nods, biting down his ice cream again like the cold is only a minor inconvenience on his teeth. 

“Say... I think I saw you with sharp teeth in the picture, as for your parents? What’s up with that?” You ask curious. 

Steb was raising his cone to his mouth again but stopped, putting his hand back down, his shoulders lowering a bit with his ears. 

“... Steb?” You ask in a murmur  

He licks his teeth pensively and lets out a deep sigh, his free hand rolling into a fist, gripping the fabric of his pants. 

He purses his lips, hesitating. 

“Forget it, Steb... I am sorry, I should not have asked.” You take his hand rolled in a fist and gently squeeze it. 

His gaze lowers to your hands and then raises to meet yours, a lot of emotions raging and battling in his turquoise gaze. You frankly smile at him. 

You press yourself against him and lay your head on his shoulder with a satisfied sigh. 

“We’ll see the end of the tunnel at some point... I am sure of it. I promise to be at your side at that moment.” You declare, nudging your cheek against his shoulder. 

You hear him gup, but, 

Slowly 

He lays his head on top of yours. 

You both remain silent, observing the setting sun disappearing behind Piltover’s buildings, the Swan couple taking off together to disappear, flying through the sky. 

You close your eyes, breathing deep, feeling Steb’s warmth sipping through your skin as his musk slowly reaches your nose. 

He smells pretty good! 

You reopen your eyes in a flash when you feel Steb’s finger on the corner of your mouth. He takes it off immediately, showing you the cream you had smeared over yourself that he just whipped off. 

His lips wrap around his thumb to suck on the cream and you observe that action with a strange fascination. 

You sigh, placing your head back on his shoulder. 

How will you survive this love, you wonder 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“Home sweet home!” 

You close and lock the door after Steb with a sigh of relief. You just finished eating your take-outs under Piltover’s starry sky and now you need a good night’s sleep. 

You see your closed living room door and sigh deeply again. 

Ah yes... You forgot that little detail. Well, that is rock bottom for the both of you, nothin worse can happen now! 

You lazily open your coat as you start climbing your stairs with a yawn. 

You stop dead in your tracks with a cold realization. 

Your room 

Is in a fucking mess 

You cannot let Steb see all of that! 

Steb turns to you in surprise when you start sprinting up to your room. 

You barge through your bedroom in a panic, it looks even worse than this morning! You grab the dirty plate and put it in your bathroom sink, you have no better options for now! 

What worries you the most are all the bras and panties lying around waiting for laundry day. 

You crawl onto your floor in a panic, gathering them into your arms when you hear Steb’s peaceful steps climbing the stairs and approaching your bedroom. You roll them all in a ball and stand up in a hurry in front of it when gentle knocks resonate at the door. 

“Don’t enter, it’s a bit of a mess!” You try to sound as relaxed and unbothered as possible, kicking the clothes under your bed. 

A silence occurs before you hear him walking away to the bathroom. You scrutinize your room like a robot to locate all the garments you missed and gather them in a hurry when Steb opens your door making you jump and spin towards him. 

He holds the dirty dish with a confused expression. 

“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, huh...” You hide the laced panties you hold behind your back with an innocent expression, “My kitchen sink is broken and I have to do my dishes in the bathroom sink until the repair man arrives.”  

He tilts his head, considering the plates before signing with one hand. 

“Don’t feel obligated to look at it, Steb, you are my guest!” You object. 

He starts signing again but he slows down discovering the mess of books and clothes all over until his gaze stops on a laced bra lazily hanging onto your mirror.  

“Ah!”You jump and take it off hurriedly, hiding it behind your back too “Get out please!” You demand with a high-pitched, hurried tone, “I need to put some order back to this room!” 

He looks at you, a little gauche and embarrassed, and closes the door behind him. 

You growl and throw the two undergarments under your bed.  

You crouch and pile up your books, lifting them, and leave your bedroom to enter your small office to tidy everything. You glance at your workstation while you put your books back. You’ll need to give your key to Steb for him to fill forms. 

You hear the sound of water in your bathroom and as you go back to your room Steb exits it with his toothbrush in his mouth and a plate now clean. 

“I told you you were the guest here.” You grumble; 

He shrugs and hands you the plate while brushing his teeth vigorously. You put it back on the table in your bedroom for now and quickly tidy up the room. You search for new male clothes around, but this was the last shirt apparently. 

You only find pants.  

Steb doesn’t formalize himself and passes them on in the bathroom while you put on your pajamas in your room. It’s not perfect but it’s not shocking you judge observing the state of the bedroom. 

You brush your teeth and head to bed. You discover Steb reading the back of the book on your nightstand, bare chest. You gulp as you notice how large his shoulders truly are... You were not really in the headspace to notice all of those details that day under the tent... 

And suddenly it downs on you again. 

You’re going to sleep in the same bed as your mentor who tried to kiss you. You gulp. It is technically a double bed, it’s just on the smaller side, a bit cramped for two. 

Steb raises his head at you with a tight smile, his cheek swales waving lazily like he is... pleased. His eyes are unreadable outside of some softness in the gaze. He show you the book and signs. 

“Oh... Yes, it’s a good book.” You nod, “I can lend it to you once I finish it.” 

He nods enthusiastically and his fins tremble harder, happy. 

You mentally sigh once you are both under the cover, at a respectful and modest distance from each other. Of course. 

Steb looks pretty relaxed all things considered. He has been pretty casual with you during this entire day. Clearly he doesn’t trouble himself like you do. 

Maybe his former shyness and embarrassment are more the products of shame for having tried to kiss you of all people than some sort of hidden mutual fondness, you come to realize. 

Piercing your heart.  

You really need to wake up and stop dreaming, you are clearly not on the same page! 

He turns his head to you and nods with a tight grin, and you turn off your bedside lamp. 

And darkness and silence swarm you. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Steb grips the cover, digging his nails into the fabric trying to remain calm and composed. 

He feels your warmth waving though his sensitive Vastaya skin, mercilessly reminding him that you are next to him 

So 

So close 

To him. 

He rubs his face with his hands, sighing to himself.  

How did it come to that? How did everything cumulate in this very situation? 

He contemplates the ceiling through the darkness, his hand in his hair. Every time he closes his eyes, he feels the ghosts of your gentle hands manipulating his supersensitive fins back in the bathroom, sending his heart into a frenzy. 

Those thin undergarments becoming see-through once wet. 

This laced bra laying around. 

He had to lock himself in the bathroom and splash his face with cold water to remain composed. He had to fight back the visions of you in this laced bra, squeezing and rounding up your... enticing breast. 

He gulps, listening to your calm and deep breath. 

He can almost hear your heartbeat. 

He wishes he could nudge himself in your warm embrace to hear them both better...  

Like when you laid your head so casually on his shoulder. He was so surprised and did not know what to do, he thought you were still angry at him until that moment. 

But maybe not? 

You touched him so causally that he felt emboldened to wipe your lips clean of the cream, but he could not make sense of the gaze you gave him. 

He discreetly slides his hand under the cover until he can graze yours and gently 

Secretly 

Lock your pinkies together. 

Feeling his heart pumping harder. 

He sighs again, slightly appeased by that secret contact, and closes his eyes to sleep with you. 

In your own bed

@aecarstairs @wiltyard @sanktastuff @mahirublue @chocalycake @rositabluemoon @blackwoodwinter @archangel1206 @marshallowy @crimson23capricorn @m0na-lis4 @chjopchjop @editedjeans @joshuhaos @dulcecita-luzita @cyberneticfrk @nottherealamber @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @sadlycerenity

[sinnyb0x]

Does…. Does Cleave eat bones … like one day Steb finds him crunchin and munchin and catches him mouth full of bone shards

Yes! One morning Steb wakes up to Cleave making something and he's flabbergasted at the meal he's concocted.

Cleave can eat bones just fine (Amongst other questionable food), but a full proper meal is more than welcomed :]

[sinnyb0x]

Feeling embarrassed again about drawing NSFW of the blorbos… uueuee

I need to fight the shame and let the freak in me win

[sinnyb0x]

He's thinking bout Steb 🤭

Full thing on my spicy bluesky 🦋🔞 (MDNI)

[sinnyb0x]

READERS!! GET HIM!!!!

[sinnyb0x]

yourself and I

steb/gn!reader

warnings: masturbation, caught masturbating (steb), hand jobs, eye contact, praise kink, submissive!steb, aspects of nonhuman genitalia (a lot more precome), porn with plot, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, selectively mute!steb, sign language (BSL), steb the bf hater as a treat, 18+ MDNI, 4.4k words

synopsis: You find familiar help when spiraling rent prices bite you, it sends Steb spiraling into guilty realisations of his own.

read on ao3 | ao3 profile | ao3 collection

Rent in Piltover was always extortionate. An arm and a leg, as well as your firstborn child would just about get you a dingy flat in the worst spot imaginable. You’d grumbled over it relentlessly, slowly being driven mad by flat after flat that you considered as being ‘alright’ ending up well out of your price range.

You’d confided in your childhood friend of course, silent, seemingly unbothered by everything, but an amazing listener once you looked just an inch past his quietness. God was it a relief, relationship drama; philosophical tangents; ranting about rent prices; even the most vulnerable secrets were safe in Steb’s capable hands.

It was only natural that years of sticking together and staying by his side — especially when people tried to oust him for his appearance and apparent dislike for talking — would foster the safe feelings between you. He was a haven of understanding.

“I’ve lost my flat, I’m losing my boyfriend, I’m so cold,” You grumbled, nearly yelling as your hands moved in time with your words — years of watching Steb sign to you baked into your habits, “and I have no fucking money!”

The two of you had been walking back from a hole-in-the-wall pub, somewhere where the food was cheap and the atmosphere was cozy. You’d fought to pay your share of the bill, insisting on not troubling Steb, and were promptly reminded that neither of you would ever be in debt with each other with several firm hand gestures. In short, he paid.

His ears had swivelled down at your words, not from the volume, but because he was concerned. He’d taken you out mostly as a way to console you when you’d shown up at his door with a tight lid on your emotions, but a sheen of tears clinging to your lash line.

Two weeks to find another place, was what you told him, and his frills had flared — a sharp twinge of his eyebrow evidence of the way he felt deeply irritated on your behalf.

Your boyfriend was another topic he knew intimately well. Too well. He didn’t like him, to say the least. Self-centred, lazy, stupid. A myriad of insults towards that man could be dredged from his mind, but not shared; not out of respect for him but for the sake of not upsetting you too much. You could do better, without question, he wasn’t against you losing him if he was being honest.

Steb had draped his coat over you despite the chill that brushed over his skin and walked you all the way back home, quietly and logically rolling around ideas on how to help.

The next day, you were surprised by the sight of your best friend standing in your doorway well past dark when you finally came home from work, ears pricking at the sound of your footsteps. 

You could always stay with him, if you wanted?

And who were you to say no, you’d agreed quickly to sharing his space — a look of relief washing over your face. He really would’ve asked sooner if he knew that was the expression you would’ve made.

At the same time, maybe he shouldn’t have asked at all. 

It was only natural that years of being so close had led him to be… partial to you. It made sense because to him, you’d always been ‘good’ in every way in his eyes; even the ugly parts, because they were yours, and you were beautiful, full stop. No, he’s not being biased, you just were — it was objective.

It had been a lingering thought in the back of his mind for years, coated in the plausible deniability of simple familiarity and friendship until the feeling’s cloak was lifted by the new, constant proximity to you. 

You were everywhere all of a sudden. Your clothes were in his laundry hamper; your favourite foods were littered about the kitchen cupboards; he could smell you on the couch cushions — his frills fluttered as they nearly tasted the scent of your damp skin after you showered.

When exactly his feelings had become more than friendly, he wasn’t sure, maybe they’d always been that way, but it was starting to drive him mad.

You’d tell him about arguments you and your boyfriend had more and more frequently, his heart clenching at the thought of you being shouted at, cock woefully jumping at the thought of you shouting back. It was a guilty feeling, mind split between feeling the lewd ache of it and watching the curl of your lips, not paying the attention he ought to.

You’d wear pyjamas around the house, his heart growing warm and fuzzy at your comfort, biting the inside of his cheek when he eyed the sliver of skin revealed when you reached for anything on a high shelf. He blinked and caught the thoughts by the neck, you weren’t a piece of meat. But god, the stretch of your skin looked heavenly.

You’d touch him even more — from little brushes of your hands on his hips to gently shuffle him out the way to melting into his arms on the couch after a long day — his heart throbbed at the closeness, so did the rest of him. He prayed you never noticed the way his breathing picked up.

Steb tended to do the washing, a task off your back, a good distraction from your wonderfully consuming presence until he found himself blushing around your underwear and feeling like a pervert just for touching them, more so when he caught himself thinking much too hard about where the fabric had been pressed all day. He groaned quietly.

Fresh out of the shower, you looked like temptation; water still dripping down your collar bones and beyond until it finally met your towel. His eyes traced the droplets when he was sure you weren’t paying attention. You brushed your teeth together, he’d watch the way you’d gag brushing your tongue. Every action, completely innocuous until his mind decided it wasn’t.

It was wrong, so very wrong, to… sexualise you. You were his friend, not an object — you were spoken for as well. A confusing mix of possessiveness and a deep desire to hole up in a cave for several months swirled in his chest every time he thought about that. He couldn’t have you and his mind refused to help him stick to that, so he lived with a clenched jaw.

Guilt followed the way he enjoyed domestic moments with you, and it was getting ridiculous. It felt like he was barely treading water when all he was doing was washing the dishes while you dried them, two trains of thought blaring as he stared at stray water trickling down your bare forearms. Your hands carefully wiped the water off of a knife, your hand pulling the dishcloth up and down so smoothly, Steb blinked hard and tried to swallow the feeling in his throat.

It was like his birthday came early the day you’d finally had it with your boyfriend.

You’d stormed in, cursing up a maelstrom of swears and insults under your breath, collecting up trinkets and books and several hoodies before dumping them into a ratty bag. He watched you carefully, frozen in his place, leaning against the kitchen counter with a lukewarm cup of tea in his hands.

Admittedly you were, crudely put, hot when you were pissed, but admiringly eyeing the sharp way you moved around his flat came second to his concern for you. Steb rounded the counter, crouching a few feet in front of you so you could see his hands ask what had happened.

You’d seethed, the angry scrunch of your brow just a little less appealing when directed at him.

“You, with me. Now.” You’d gestured to the door with a harsh jab of your thumb, leaving no room for argument, though there wouldn’t have been a need for one anyway — he very much didn’t mind doing what you told him to.

He’d trailed you all the way to your boyfriend’s house and waited just at the gate while you pounded on the door. His ears pricked towards the conversation, admittedly (and guiltily) quite nosy about the ensuing spat. The door creaked open and god, how did a guy like that ever catch the eye of someone like you? Maybe he was being too judgemental…

“Your fish doesn’t like me.” Your boyfriend muttered, throwing an irritated glance over your shoulder at Steb.

“No, he doesn’t, and I don’t either.” You dropped the bag on the threshold, not flinching at the sound of something inside snapping. “Take your shit and don’t talk to me again, prick.”

You turned on your heel without another word. It was petty, maybe, but Steb used the last few moments he had before being dragged off to send a thinly veiled, judging glance at your now-ex-boyfriend — the almost stoic, but not quite, look sending your ex into a fit.

More softly, you’d confided in him later that night the words that brought everything to a close:

“‘Too much.’” You’d paraphrased to him, sat with your knees tucked to your chest on the window sill next to him. You looked so ethereal in the moonlight, his heart broke at the thought of you — someone he thought so dearly of — being treated with such dismissal.

He held you tightly, tracing kinder words into your back as he let your tears silently wet the scruffy collar of his well-worn jumper. You breathed in the smell of him, fresh but kind of salty like the sea breeze, until you relaxed entirely — enjoying the feel of his chest against yours, not knowing he was doing the same.

It became harder to distract himself from you after that, there was one less layer standing between him and giving in, one less layer of guilt when images of your nude body flashed through his mind, or how you’d feel; your hands, your lips, your mouth. It was like the blush on his cheeks never went away when you were around.

Though fantasising about you would be perverse, he got off, his palms and sheets a slick mess with the exertion, just trying to get rid of the aching before you got home. His wandering thoughts kept taking him back to you.

What would you sound like? Feel like? He knew from your rants how you liked to lavish your partner with affection, would you do that for him? He fought the image of your hands on him, giving himself to you, losing when he could almost feel your hands replacing his, saturating his senses with a burning pleasure.

His ears burned, hearing echoes of your words spin around his head. You called him beautiful and meant it, you called him a good man too — maybe you’d rescind that if you knew what his palms were doing, but the memory of your half-lidded, content eyes searching his gazing fondly into his made him sigh and arch into the feeling of his hands.

When you looked at him it was like the veil of his isolated existence dropped, like you were in his head and knew every thought like it was your own. You understood him, cut him slack he’d never give himself, but would you still offer him that if you knew? His heart clenched at the possibility you would, heady and electric bolts of want panging through his core.

He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, thumb stroking over the wet tip of his cock, trying to drown himself in the sensation — brows pinched in focus. If he just got off then maybe he could look you in the eye without the risk of you seeing how badly he wanted you.

He didn’t notice you’d come home, though.

You’d been excited about leaving work early, finally knowing what it was like to feel excited about the person waiting for you when you got back. Maybe it was rude to have a thing for your best friend who kindly let you stay with him, rude to play with how you remembered small moments and reimagine them so intimately.

But it was Steb of all people, kind, sweet Steb. Resisting the pull felt more impossible than ever. Maybe it was rude to be looking for him in the guys you dated, it was definitely why the last try failed — stoicism wasn’t dickheadedness when it was Steb, Steb was just calm to the untrained eye. 

You’d finally admitted to yourself that the man you wanted was the one sharing a flat with you. You just didn’t want to ruin what you already had, you doubted he’d leave you forever but the thought of a new gap between you made your heart ache. 

So you flustered awfully when you’d quietly walked past Steb’s bedroom. The slick sounds escaping through the crack in the door were obvious, especially with the lewd sliver of him you could see through it. You ached, you probably weren’t the cause of that and by all means ought to stop looking.

But you, basally, were greedy. Nature halted you in place, staring at Steb desperately stroking his cock.

It was pretty, he was pretty, you wanted to touch him, find all the little faces he could make. Maybe noises too, wouldn’t that be delicious? You were caught up, breathing heavy, unable to look away — tunnel vision set on the way his pre-come glistened in the low light because god, there was so much of it.

He yelped, snapping you out of the spiral you found yourself in, eyes locking with his through the crack. Getting him to make a noise that loud was a feat in and of its own, you couldn’t help but wonder if you could get him to make a similar one another way.

Maybe it was bad that he throbbed at the thought of you coming in, but the thought of you touching him was the only thing that sent a pang of heat through his gut for months, sent his frills fluttering. Shame, mild fear, and unrelenting desire coalesced in a fizzing way that made his cock jump between his slick palms.

You spoke before you thought, interrupting the way his still sticky hands came up to frantically sign apologies at you. “Can I help?”

Far less suave than you wanted, it came out desperate. You had the decency to look mildly surprised at your own words, especially when Steb’s jaw dropped; an intense blush coating him all the way to his shoulders, a shiver running down his back.

You had to control yourself when he cautiously nodded, shedding your jacket in the hall outside, gripping the door far too tight as you stalked towards him. Guilt weighed heavily in his eyes, you were familiar with the look, he blamed himself for a lot of things, but you wanted it gone.

“What’s with the face?” You questioned lowly, leaning over his bare body. It felt unfair, but the down-turn of his ears and now flattened frills sent a wave of satisfaction through you. “Imagining something bad?”

You watched his eyes widen, a caught look that bordered on panic splaying across his features as he turned to look away, but you weren’t having it. You pinched his chin between your fingers, turning his burning face back to you.

His index finger pointed towards you, your breath caught in your throat. He saw your surprise and started to fumble apologies, shaking fingers just barely cooperative enough to twist into the right words. You snorted lightly, the situation hitting you. 

You leaned in.

“I imagine you, too.” You whispered against the shell of his ear, breath ghosting the sensitive tips through a smile and you felt his own breathing hitch against your neck. Your breath nearly burned, the world seemed to stop entirely at your words. The image of you touching yourself, his name falling from your lips, burrowed its way into his mind. Did you feel like he did, carnal, utterly perverse but as sharp as a live wire ready to snap?

He shivered against you, the thin, sensitive skin of his collar bones brushing against the material of your shirt.

You pulled back with a smirk, “why’d you stop?”

He blushed impossibly hotter as you knelt on the bed in front of him, eyeing him hungrily. You knew why, there was no way you didn’t, but you loved to tease him, prod him, make his hands spill his thoughts. You did it for conversation, to get in his head, you were doing it to force his hand and make him say what he wanted. A lewd twist, a new face of your affection.

‘You.’ His index finger pointed at your chest again.

“You can keep going, I’m not stopping you.” You shrugged off your shirt, the planes of your body revealed softer than your words. Steb was transfixed, finally seeing your skin a new light after all the years between you, not simply imagining it. You hummed. “But you’re considerate, aren’t you?”

He swallowed, pride blooming in his chest despite not knowing where you were going. 

“You always think about what other people are thinking, what they could think. You don’t want to scare me off, is that it?” You probed, drawing in closer, never looking away from his eyes even when your hand found purchase on his thigh. Warmth flooded his chest, his ears twitched, and almost guiltily, he looked away from you as if he were afraid of how well you could read him.

“You can’t scare me off,” you whispered into his ear, hand trailing up the inside of his thigh — the delicate kisses of your fingertips making his cock twitch, “you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you.”

Your hand missed his cock, caressing his pelvis and drifting up as you continued to talk. “Wanna know something, Steb?”

He nodded shakily, shivering as your hands skimmed his sensitive sides.

“I think I’ve been looking for you for a long time. I look for your eyes when I’m interested in other people, do you know what I’m saying?” Your fingers brushed his nipple, pinching enough to make him draw a sharp breath before dancing up his chest. He shook his head and you cupped the back of his neck. “I’ve been looking for you this whole time.”

You cupped his jaw, “I wanted you the whole time, because of course I did, how could I not?”

He could feel the weight of your stare, the honesty of your want, as well as the way his frills pulsed along his cheekbones. You wanting him seemed almost incomprehensible, but he wouldn’t deny you; the pooling of anxiety in his gut turned warm, nearly salivating at the thought of finally getting what he had always wanted.

He watched you carefully as you leaned in again, knee wedged between his thighs, barely brushing his throbbing cock. 

“May I?” You asked sweetly, eyes darting to his lips and back up again. You, so willing to act, waited for him — you always cared. When his lips met yours it was like a jigsaw had fallen into place, the warmth of your lips against his, sweet and real, made everything make more sense.

You pulled away, murmuring adoringly. “You’re so soft, I like that, I like you.”

Kiss-drunk, you dove in for more, pressing Steb towards his pillows. Your hand brushed the seam where his fins met his scalp and he shivered into the hot press of your bodies, hips bucking his cock into your thigh. You spoke against his lips, calling him all sorts of pretty words, your other hand trying to memorise the feel of every inch of skin it could find.

You hand found the base of his cock, hard and slick, and you hummed happily into his mouth. You withdrew far enough to get a good look at his eyes, admiring the misty, deep blue of his blown-out pupils. “Can I touch you?”

“Please.” Steb whispered, quiet and sort of raspy with disuse, but the keening pitch, the almost-broken quiver made his desire so evident. His hand moved with his word out of habit, the back of his fingers brushing the underside of your jaw as his flat hand moved down from his chin, and changed direction to cup your jaw.

“God, you’re so good to me, you’re so good.” You breathed, hand wrapping around his shaft, squeezing lightly and reveling in the way it made his shoulders jump. He was right to have imagined your hands feeling better, the lack of his control made the sensation taste sweeter, the feel of your hand giving his cock and experimental pump — careful of the frills — burn hotter.

“Fuck, you’re wet as hell, how long were you at it before I got home?” He let out the quietest whine at the strain in your authoritative voice, rutting into the twist of your hands over his cock frills. “You know, it’s kinda hot to think about you getting off on me. How long have you been pent up?”

Steb’s eyes rolled back, third eyelids stuttering over his foggy pupils as a needy thrum passed through his body. You watched his muscles twitch, his head roll to the side slightly, before you took his chin between your fingers and forced his eyes back to yours. “Don’t look away from me now, sweetheart, isn’t this what you wanted? What you’ve been wanting for a long while?”

A strangled noise caught in the back of his throat at the hungry way you looked at him, eyes dark and lidded and there was a pull to arch into you, showing you everything he could. He could goad you just as well, there was a sharp, intoxicating kick to watching you react to him; no wide, greedy pupils or heaving shoulders at the sight of his writhing were lost on him.

There was a swell of lewd pride in his chest and groin knowing he could make you like this, a thought just as enjoyable as the feeling of being under your hands. And it was nice to give you what you wanted, to scratch an itch deep in you with his body — there was an element of you using him like that that made the frills on his cock flutter.

He hissed at the feeling of you changing pace, watched your eyes trail down to his flushed cock and the sensitive frills decorating it, your fingers ghosting the very edges of them — sparks dancing along the trail your fingertips made. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” You asked, more of a statement than anything, but your voice sounded so clear. Steb’s stomach tensed at your words, a wave of excitement cresting over his shoulders — it was like he could feel your words. 

Your hands flattened his frills on the next downstroke, putting garbled words and heavy breathing in his throat, humping into your hand as his hands — frantic — grasped your bare shoulders. The heat of your skin below his palms added to the tense burning climbing its way up his spine.

“Mm, yeah, hold on like that. You don’t know how much I like it when you touch me.” You softly spoke over the vulgar sound of your hand pumping his cock. He was swimming in feeling, every honeyed word you uttered stuffed cotton on his head. Sweetly, in loving contrast to the lecherous rub of your hand, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t know how much I’ve started to enjoy coming home.”

Steb shivered, eyes fluttering shut at your words and squeezing harder at the wave of sensitivity they brought. 

“It’s because you’re here.” You whispered into his skin, worshipful and adoring in each syllable. You smiled, pleased, at the feeling of his hips bucking with more instinct — chasing his peak in your hands. 

You stole the sense from his mind, kissing away his doubts as cascading reassurances of how much you wanted him, wanted this, and loved seeing him come apart fell from your lips. You brushed your lips over the frills of his cheekbones, bursts of you dancing on the edge of his mind in a way he could never describe, but couldn’t get enough of.

Your eyes looked endless when you pulled away, a shudder passing through his taught body at the way you regarded him so deeply. You didn’t go far, never stopping your hands, only enough to see his eyes. His leaking tip throbbed.

“I love you.” You told him quietly, almost bashful despite your sensuous touch. Tender, so tender and intentional, you meant what you said. The debauched, glazed look in your eyes sending a shiver through his spine — turning the pooling heat in his gut fizzing with the approaching peak of ecstasy.

“Don’t hold back, Steb.” You ordered softly, aware of the violent jerk of his hips, the choked whine he made when you matched his bucking; the hand stroking his cock hitting every sensitive ridge, the other lost to the bare stretches of skin it could reach.

He jolted, hissing as he came, curling towards you; unintentionally rough, your teeth clacking as he kissed you, frenzied, urging, trying to feel more of you. Your hand worked until he twinged away from your touch, you let him, still caught up in the thrill of watching him writhe because of you.

He panted, eyes refocusing on yours, a gently searching expression crossing his brows. You licked off some of the slick, white come from your hand, snorting at the surprised, then flustered, face he pulled.

“What?” You giggled, fondly eyeing your work. Steb really did look pretty splayed out like that, frills still fluttering with the aftershock, cheeks hued with effort.

He pointed to himself, then pulled a face that seemed to be part of an internal debate you weren’t privy to; like he was looking for permission somewhere. His ears flushed and flicked down.

Steb’s hands crossed flat across the skin just below his collar bones, then pointed a slightly shaky finger towards you. 

‘I love you.’

Your eyes widened in shock of the obvious, and any impulsive words were smothered on your lips by a heartfelt kiss as his pointed finger turned into a hand reaching to cup the back of your neck. Uncontrollably, insuppressible, you smiled into it, heart jumping at the feeling.

“Took us long enough, huh?” You teased, making Steb chuckle quietly. You were pulled in, bare torso to bare torso, and kept close to his skin — feeling the beat of his heart against yours.

A/N: lol died for a bit sorry about that, anyways merry christmas! (half of you have probably read this already 💀)

banner cr: @/anitalenia

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did @redbowedblogger stutter? canon in my books. ignore the fishstick.

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Tug

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UOUR BANNER 😭😭😭😭

isn't it beautiful <3