#i dont wanna miss tags incase someone blocked them yk

[vieoeil-riae]

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)

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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!!!

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