haplesshairpile | (no subject)

Entry tags:

maeve

(no subject)

This is the first time that Steve has ever had the same girlfriend on Valentine's Day as the year before. He thought that maybe that would freak him out, but it doesn't. He's come to realize that he didn't jump from girl to girl because he was a player. Mostly, he just didn't want to get hurt.

But then he did, and he got over it. He moved on, and he found something better. Someone better. The someone who is over at the jukebox yelling in some dude's face. Steve gives her a smitten look as the guy stomps off, and then turns back to the bar to get them another round.

"There you are!" The high-pitched voice makes Steve pause, and he pastes on a smile as he turns to face the girl who has been following him around all night, despite him repeatedly telling her that he has a girlfriend. Usually, that's enough to make a girl back off, but not this one. She's been sort of relentless, and he's getting a little annoyed. "Finally, I've got you all to myself. Come dance with me!"

"Look, I'm flattered, but I can't," Steve tells her coolly, trying to be polite but not too polite, because apparently she can't take a hint. He lifts the hand holding his dwindling drink and uses it to gesture over his shoulder at Maeve, and then sets the glass down as he gestures for the bartender. "Like I said, I'm with someone."

While Steve is turned to place an order, he misses the woman turn her hand over the top of Steve's drink and pour a purple liquid from a small vial. By the time he turns back, she's smiling up at him again and holding up a drink of her own.

"Okay, okay. I get it," she tells him, shrugging as she holds her own drink up a little. "Here's a good night, I guess."

Steve lifts his glass to mirror her lazy toast and knocks back the rest of the liquor, frowning down at the empty glass before setting it on the bar. There was something sour about it and he smacks his lips, blinking a few times before suddenly feeling warm and calm, even as butterflies swarm in his belly. When he turns to look at the girl, his vision is a little glassy and he blinks a few times, feeling his expression smooth out as the girl puts a hand on his chest.

"Oh, wow," Steve says dreamily, and the young woman might think that the love potion she had bought a few blocks over has done the trick, but it hasn't. Steve is in love alright, but he already was so all he does is love Maeve even harder, even if he's a little too fuzzy to say it in the moment.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No," Maeve answers. "It isn't lame."

As for the rest, she'll be communicative, she'll ask questions, and make sure she doesn't do anything without Steve saying it's okay. But first, she really just wants to kiss him.

"Don't think so much yet," she tells him. "We have time."

Then she rises onto her toes and slips her arms around his neck so she can pull him down into a kiss, her lips parting beneath his.

"No thinking? That's right in my lane, baby," he jokes, because of said nerves, but it's easy to forget about them when Maeve is suddenly there in his space, warm and reassuring. She pulls him in and Steve goes willingly, ducking his head to meet hers.

It's a slow burn kind of kiss, unhurried and languid, and Steve hums a little as her mouth opens in invitation, deepening the kiss as his arms go around her slim waist. It does serve as a very good distraction, and Steve walks her back slowly toward the bed as his hand slips under her shirt, sliding up her back until he reaches her bra, unhooking it with one hand.

Steve tugs off his own shirt and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to grab her hips and urge him onto her lap so he can kiss her again. With one hand cradling the side of her face, he slides the other up her shirt again, covering one of her breasts and giving it a gentle squeeze through the lace.

They're not always this gentle with each other, this slow, but Maeve appreciates that they are some of the time. It's a nice thing, having this variety, having someone who's both willing to shove her down in the bed when they're both so horny they can't deal with it and someone who'll draw her slowly into his lap like Steve is now.

Maeve reaches down with one hand and pulls up her shirt, letting it fall to the floor once she shakes her hair loose from the collar. Then she has her hands back on Steve, palms running over the smooth expanse of his back, the broad muscles of his shoulders.

Another great thing about being with Maeve is that Steve doesn’t always have to take the lead when it comes to sex. It’s something that he always seemed to have to do before. The girls he was with took their cues from him for the most part, but Maeve is different.

Maeve has no problem changing the pace of things or moving Steve where she wants him. Sometimes it’s more subtle than others, like it is right now. Her hands glide along his body and it’s like she’s wiping the nerves away, leaving him feeling relaxed and aroused, but without any sense of urgency.

Steve ducks his head to kiss her chest, lips trailing over the swell of one breast as he cups it in his hand, flicking his tongue over her stiff nipple. After giving it a soft, playful sort of bite, he lifts his hand to her cheek to draw her in for another kiss.

His other hand goes to the small of her back and he slowly rolls back onto the bed, drawing her down on top of him, her chest pressing against his. The kiss draws on and on and Steve licks into her mouth, sliding one hand down the back of her pants to squeeze her ass through her seemingly ever-present tights.

“If I didn’t know better,” he murmurs fondly, tone breathless as he kisses the corner of her mouth. “I’d say you wear these just to torture me.”

"Good thing you know better," Maeve answers with a grin. Her own voice is a little breathless, but she shoots Steve a smile that's both playful and a touch serious. Even though she knows she doesn't always succeed, Maeve does her best not to do anything for anyone except herself. She never wants to be the sort of person who dresses a certain way because she knows it would make someone react in a certain way.

It's still nice that he does, honestly, but she dresses how she does for herself.

She sits up in his lap, her palms pressed to his chest as she rolls her hips against him. She knows he'll like that and she does, too, stifling a moan between her lips as she bites the lower one gently.

“I do,” Steve replies with a hint of seriousness, and no small amount of adoration. He spent so long trying to fit himself into a mold, to be who he was expected to be, and it was exhausting. He loves that Maeve is so unapologetically herself. It’s something he respects, and if he’s honest, it makes him feel good, too.

Maeve does what Maeve wants to do, and she wants to be with him. How incredible is that?

When Maeve sits up, Steve’s hands go to her thighs, squeezing as she positions herself just right on his lap and rocks her hips, pressing her cunt down against the bulge of his cock through far too many layers of fabric.

Steve grunts and rocks up to meet her the next time, staring up at her face, the spill of her dark hair, the pale freckles on her shoulders that he only knows are there because he’s gotten close enough to see them.

His gaze dips to her her breasts, full and round with perfect pink nipples that are just begging to be kissed. One hand slides up her side, twisting to cup one of her breasts. They rock together again as he catches her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging playfully before giving it a hard pinch because he knows it’ll turn her on even more.

“I am so fucking lucky,” he breathes out, sounding awed by the sight of her. Whatever drug he was given has long worn off but he still feels dumbstruck, head over heels in love. That’s just because of her. “You’re so beautiful.”

"Are you sure you're not still feeling the drugs?" she asks with a grin, her voice breathless even as she rocks against Steve again. She can feel his cock trapped beneath her body, the heat of him, how hard he is, even though the layers of their clothes.

Even after all this time, even though Maeve loves him and she knows it, it's still kind of difficult to accept compliments like the ones Steve gives her. She knows he means it, it isn't that she doubts him, but that she's still not sure about it herself.

Not that it matters now. It doesn't, not at all, and she grabs Steve's hand and pushes it down to the bed over his head, then leans down, still grinning. "I think I'm in charge tonight," she teases before she kisses him, then bites at his lower lip, dragging it down slightly before her hands slide down between them to undo Steve's jeans.

“I’m definitely feeling something,”he jokes, but then Maeve is pinning his hand over his head and biting at his lip, talking about how she’s in charge in that hot accent, and Steve feels a rush of arousal so strong that he goes a bit dizzy.

This is something kind of new, and that in itself is exciting. Before Maeve, he was never with girls who wanted to take charge like she does. It’s not that she’s super experienced or anything, but she just knows what she wants, and has no problem taking it.

Steve, who spent so long pretending to be cool, clawing his way up the social ladder for reasons that now seem bewildering, finds that he likes having the pressure taken off of him. With Maeve, he can just be.

“Bossy,” he murmurs fondly, nipping at her lip in return before lifting his hips so she can undress him. “It’s kinda hot.”

"Yes, I'm quite wonderful," she agrees, grinning against Steve's chest where she's ducked her head to kiss as she works his jeans open and tugs them down his hips. While they've got a specific destination she'd like to arrive at tonight, she also has a few ideas as to how to make things a little easier for him, a little more relaxing.

And with guys, relaxing usually involves blowjobs.

Maeve sits back a little so she can properly hook her fingers in his boxers and she tugs them down, first revealing a sharp hip, a bit of hair, then finally the base of Steve's cock.

"No wonder that girl earlier liked you so much," she teases. "Everything is very nice below the belt."

“Quite wonderful,” he repeats dreamily, charmed as ever by Maeve’s accent and her attitude and just by Maeve as a whole.

She kisses her way down his chest and stomach and Steve almost forgets why he was nervous at all until Maeve is tugging down his underwear. Then she makes him laugh and he forgets again, sliding his arms out to the side as he lifts his head to look at her.

“You think she had x-ray vision, too?” He jokes, wriggling a bit to push his underwear down further, cock straining against the elastic. Steve knows that he has a decent cock. It’s not a monster or anything, but he’s spent most of his life in locker rooms for some sport or another and he has eyes. He’s definitely above average, but he knows how to use it, which he thinks is more important.

He isn’t sure what he’s meant to be doing in this particular scenario, if he should roll over or what, so he decides to stay still and let Maeve tell him what she wants. She’s good at telling him things, and he would like to think that he’s good at listening.

"Definitely," she answers with a laugh against his skin before she tugs his underwear the rest of the way down, letting his cock spring free. Between the two of them, she manages to get them off, and she considers taking off her shorts, her tights, but in the end she's a little distracted.

All those years ago, when she'd first been accused of being a cock biter, Maeve had pretty much decided blowjobs sounded pretty awful. Now, though, she finds she kind of likes it. And even though she's also reaching for the bedside table, for their lubricant, she's kissing Steve's hip, her other hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

"Probably spent all night looking right through your clothes," she murmurs once she's got the drawer open and the lubricant in her hand. "Oogling you without you even realizing it was happening. Shameful behaviour, really."

“Just terrible,” Steve agrees absently, watching as Maeve pulls the lube from the drawer. They don’t usually need it, thanks in part to Steve’s love of foreplay, and he’s reminded why they need it now.

He feels a flutter of nerves but then Maeve has his cock in her wonderful little hand and Steve lets out a quiet grunt. He knows that Maeve wouldn’t weaponize sex, which is a good thing because Steve could probably be coerced into anything with a blowjob. Steve knows that it hasn’t always been her favorite activity, and he hopes that he’s made it clear that for as much as he likes them, he doesn’t expect them.

But Maeve blows him anyway, and she’s so good at it, and being in her mouth makes him feel sort of strangely honored. She’s found Steve worthy of this, worthy of being in her life, and he doesn’t think that he’ll ever stop being awed by that.

“God, you’re hot,” he tells her, which doesn’t really convey the depth of his emotion, but his mind can conjure up little else, not with her mouth so close to where he wants it.

"Mm, I think you said that already," Maeve points out and she laughs softly before her lips part and she takes Steve's cock into her mouth. The flat of her tongue glides along hot skin and she shivers as her eyes slip closed and she begins to move both her mouth and her hand. She loves how it feels, how silky the skin of Steve's cock is, how she can feel the skin moving, the warmth of him, even the brush of hair against her chin a little, depending on how she moves.

She just kind of loves him, as it turns out.

Without bothering with the lube just yet, because she wants to ease him into all this, Maeve drops it on the bed. She uses her other hand instead to cup his balls, rolling them in her palm as she sucks him, tugging gently at the skin, her fingers sliding along the crease of his thigh to just behind his balls and then back again.

The longer that Maeve sucks him, the more relaxed Steve feels, which he assumes was part of the point. She plays with his balls, tugging gently at them in that way he likes, and by the time her fingers drift back a little further to brush at his hole, he’s forgotten to be nervous at all.

Maeve makes him feel incredible. She makes him come harder than he ever has in his life and each and every time it feels like he’s been given a gift. Why should he think that this would be any different?

Steve trusts her, and in a show of that trust, he spreads his thighs wider and lifts his feet to plant them on the edge of the bed, knees falling open. He feels a little vulnerable in this position, strangely open, but it’s okay. It’s Maeve. He’s in good hands.

He can’t quite seem to find the words to say that he’s ready, so he hopes that his position tells her so. She tugs at his balls again, and when her fingertips brush against his puckered hole, the brief sensation is enough to have him curious for more.

“Maeve,” he gasps out, fingers twisting in the sheets as he arches his back a little. Already, he feels a close, and his hips jerk slightly as he lets out another moan.

At least he’s clean, which is good. He’s pretty hygenic as it is, but he’d known that they would most likely be having all sorts of sex tonight, so he scrubbed himself down, cleaning between his legs even more thoroughly than usual. He smells like soap and clean sweat, and the scent only gets stronger as she heats up his body with that absurdly clever mouth.

There's something oddly powerful about it all. She's never been this intimate with anyone else and not only because her sexual experience is actually much more limited than people seemed to thinks, but because she also hasn't trusted anyone like she trusts Steve. It's a dangerous thing to let someone get this close and she knows it, but here she is all the same.

She doesn't regret it, even if it does scare her some of the time.

Pulling back, she lets the head of Steve's cock drag over her lower lip before she asks, "Ready?"

He seems ready, so she's already reaching for the bottle of lube, spilling a bit onto her fingers, but she wants to be certain. She wants to hear him say it.

She asks him a question and Steve has to swallow hard and catch his breath, nodding a little before he can find the words. “I’m ready.”

The very worst case scenario here is that he’ll try a new thing and not like it. He isn’t even worried about disappointing Maeve, because she’ll understand. She wouldn’t want him to do anything he wasn’t totally okay with, and he feels the same way about her.

And if he does like it, that doesn’t mean anything other than that he likes it. Back home, he would have thought it meant he was gay. Back home, he probably wouldn’t have tried it at all. Back home, he was an idiot.

Here, he’s a different person. He’s a better person, constantly learning and evolving in ways that he never allowed himself before. He’s found a girlfriend that likes him for him, not for who he pretends to be, or who she wishes he was. She just likes him and he likes her. They’re safe with one another. Steve doesn’t think that he’s ever really felt like that with another person before.

“Let’s see if this awakens something in me,” Steve jokes, wanting her to know that he’s really okay with it, that he isn’t doing this just for her sake. Maybe it started out that way, but now he’s curious. He wants to know how it feels and maybe it’s because he’s still rock hard, cock straining toward Maeve’s mouth, but he’s even a bit eager.

Edited 2022-05-16 20:26 (UTC)

A smile twitches at the corners of Maeve's mouth before she lowers her head again. Her lips part and she guides Steve's cock back into her mouth with one hand; the other presses behind Steve's balls once more, against the muscle there, only massaging at first. He'd said he was ready, but she still takes her time until slowly and gently, one finger pushes inside of him.

She's never done this before either, but she's read enough to know what she's supposed to do once her finger is inside of him, how she's meant to make it feel as good as possible. Taking his cock deeper into her mouth, Maeve turns her finger, pressing a bit deeper, then gently applies a bit of pressure.

She doesn't want to do too much too soon, she doesn't want to make something hurt or startle him, and since she has no idea what she's doing in practice, she takes her time.

When his cock slides across Maeve's warm, wet tongue, Steve lets out a low moan and tips his head back, twitching the slightest bit when her finger presses against his asshole. It's a new sensation, but not a particular bad one.

Her finger presses into him and at first it's just an odd sort of intrusion, neither good or bad, just different. It doesn't really hurt, nor does it feel particularly good. He takes a breath and reaches out to put one hand gently on the back of Maeve's head, not to guide her but simply to touch her as she bobs up and down on his cock.

Just when he's wondering if this is all he's going to feel in this particular regard, Maeve pulls her finger out and then presses it back in at a new angle. He feels an unexpected spark of pleasure, and then Maeve is twisting and pushing in deeper and Steve lets out a startled yelp as heat zips up his spine, cock twitching and leaking in Maeve's mouth.

"Oh, okay," Steve pants out with a breathless laugh, putting one hand on his forehead as the other tangles in Maeve's hair. "I think I get it."

Edited 2022-05-22 09:33 (UTC)

It's not easy to grin when she still has Steve's cock in her mouth, but somehow Maeve manages it close enough. Her gaze flicks up and she catches Steve's eye, then does the same thing with her finger, knowing it must have felt good. I think I get it. That sounds positive.

She closes her eyes again, then focuses on what she's doing for him, stroking her finger inside of him, still only using a bit of pressure to keep it pleasurable for him. She takes his cock deeper, using her other hand at the base of his cock, coordinating both her hands and her mouth at the same time.

It takes a bit of thought, honestly, but she just wants him to feel good. He'd been willing to try this, after all, she wants to make sure it works for him.

He hadn't expected it to feel so good. Like, he assumed that there must be something good about it, because why else would so many guys do it otherwise, but this is insane.

There are so many points of pleasure-- the head of his cock nudging the back of Maeve's mouth, her hand twisting at the base of his cock, her finger pressing in against that spot in his body more confidently now. Steve lets out a low moan and then lets out a shaky breath, trying to make this last, but his balls are drawing up tight and pressure builds low in his gut.

"I'm gonna--" Steve cuts himself off with a groan and tugs at Maeve's hair, giving her warning so she can choose what she'd like to do. Her finger presses in against that spot and rubs, keeping pressure on it, and Steve comes with a loud grunt. "Maeve."

This orgasm seems a little more intense than usual, maybe goes on a little longer, and he's panting when he seems to come back to himself, blinking dazedly up at the ceiling. "Oh, holy shit."

She considers pulling back when Steve tugs at her hair, but all of this is for him, meant to make him feel good, and so she doesn't. There are times when she does and she always appreciates the warning, she's glad he isn't the sort of guy to just come in her mouth without telling her, but then, if he were, they wouldn't be here. They wouldn't be together.

He comes and she closes her eyes, throat working as she swallows, careful with her finger inside of Steve as she draws him through his orgasm. The way he says her name makes her shiver and when it feels like Steve is finished, Maeve pulls back slowly, then wipes her lower lip on her wrist before looking up at him.

"Good?" she asks, grinning. She knows what his answer is going to be.

Steve reaches up to sink his fingers into his hair, pushing it away from his face with both hands. His breath hitches as her finger slides out of him and he groans at the question, knowing before even lifting his head what he's going to see.

"You know it was," Steve says with a low chuckle, muscles in his stomach flexing as he lifts his head to confirm that Maeve does indeed have a smug grin on her face. It's okay; he'll allow it. She earned it. But he still kind of wants to wipe it off.

He sits up and pulls himself towards the edge of the bed, reaching down to grab her by the waist. She's topless but still in that skirt and those infuriating black tights, and the sight of her as he pulls her into his lap is enough to have his cock twitching. Even though he just came so hard it made him dizzy, he knows that it won't take long to get hard again because that's what she does to him.

"It was really good," he tells her as he leans in for a kiss, tasting himself on her tongue as he wraps one arm around her waist. The other slides under her skirt down the front of her tights, stretching them over his knuckles as his fingers dip into her panties. She's warm and wet and Steve doesn't tease, doesn't hesitate, just presses two fingers into her cunt, holding them there as his thumb rubs slow circles around her clit.

"Did it turn you on?" Steve asks against her mouth even though he can feel the proof of it against his slick palm. Still, he's curious. Yeah, he liked a lot, but did she? "Because I know I really like putting my fingers inside of you."

She laughs into the kiss, even as it turns into a moan, Steve’s fingers pressing into her. Her hips push forward, seeking more of the friction of his thumb on her clit, the stretch of his fingers inside her.

“What do you think?” she asks in return, knowing he can feel that she’s wet, ready for him. “Of course I did.”

As much as Maeve is willing to do things that make Steve happy, she also isn’t the sort to do things she’s but also into. Taking ownership of her sexuality has been a big deal for her, making sure to do never let anyone pressure her into anything. With Steve, she knows he wouldn’t, and it means everything is just a little bit better with him.

"Good," Steve breathes out, pumping his fingers inside of her and pulling back just enough to watch her face as he crooks them upward. She's so beautiful always, but Steve loves the way that she looks when she's turned on. Her eyes light up and her cheeks flush and Steve wants to see it every day forever, he thinks.

He can overthink about that later. For now, he just wants to make her feel good, to make them both feel good, and he knows that he can.

Steve slides his fingers out of her and lifts Maeve up, shifting to roll her over onto her hands and knees on the bed, sliding his hands down to her back to grab her hips as he climbs onto it behind her. "Is this okay?"

“Just fuck me already,” she answers, looking back at him over her shoulder. “If you can.”

She likes to tease him, especially when they’re like this. When they both want each other, when they’re sweaty and a bit sticky and the only thing that matters is just this room and what they’re doing and each other. She loves the way he takes the challenge in the spirit she offers it, never offended by it, never anything but perfectly Steve.

After catching his eye, she grins, then drops her head forward again before she reaches for a pillow. She pushes it under her body, using it to keep her on her knees for him.