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maeve

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Steve has been moping. Like, pretty hardcore moping. It's kind of pathetic, honestly, but he can't seem to shake himself out of it. He hasn't seen Maeve since their fight, or whatever it was. When he stuck in his foot in his mouth like a dumbass and hurt her unintentionally. He hasn't seen her since he fucked up.

They've texted a little, and had a very brief phone call where Steve attempted to apologize and was probably very bad at it, but that's it. He should probably go see her, but he's too afraid of what will happen if he does.

He's shoved himself into the corner of the couch, wearing a pair of dark blue lounge pants and a white tee, watching some stupid nature documentary when Robin's phone chimes. She very awkwardly gets up and declares that she's suddenly leaving the apartment for no reason, and Steve stares glumly at her while she moves around and grabs her things and pats his head before leaving him alone in their home. Very deliberately.

When the knock at the door comes ten minutes later, Steve isn't exactly surprised. His stomach does seem to bottom out though, sitting there like lead, and he wrinkles his nose and scrubs his hand over his face before getting to his feet.

He's about to get dumped. Somehow he's just sure of it. He made things hard, acted like an idiot, and that means she's going to end things. That's how it goes, and Steve realizes that his lower lip is trembling as he goes over to answer the door. He stops and blows out a breath, swallowing hard and pulling himself together before opening the door.

As expected, Maeve is on the other side. Steve can't help the way that his entire being seems to perk up at the sight of her, only to wither again at the certain fear that he's about to lose her.

"Hey. Come in," he says with a wry smile, stepping aside to make room for her.

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“I guess I’ll have to keep practicing,” he says with a put upon sigh, smiling softly as Maeve’s lips rest against his shoulder. He’s so relieved to be here with her, and to know that things will be okay.

Maybe it’ll be problem in the future, but they have years before they have to worry about it, and maybe they’ll both evolve their thinking by then. Right now, all he wants is her.

He rolls onto his side and reaches for her arm, slowly pulling at it until she’s on her side facing him, and he can curl his arms around her body, pulling her in close. His half-hard cock rests against her hip but it’s easy to ignore because he’s too busy staring at her face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, reaching out to sweep her sweat-damp bangs from her forehead, thumbing at her brow before giving her a teasing smile. “And you taste so good. It’s kind of absurd, actually.”

"Oh, it's absurd, is it?" she asks, her hand sliding along Steve's side, fingertips tracing his ribs lightly. She knows it's probably ticklish and she grins before fitting herself closer to him, hand coming to rest against his back.

"Very sorry it's so absurd," she teases. "I don't think there's much I can do about how obsessed with me you are, though. Hardly seems fair to blame me for it."

As if she isn't equally obsessed, wrapped up in him here in his bed. They needed the sex they just had, but she knows they need this, too. Smiling and touching and everything slow and kind of quiet.

"You're right. That's my bad," Steve replies, chuckling both at her teasing and the tickling at his ribs. She rolls onto her side and Steve scoops her up in his arms, wrapping the one under her around her middle while reaching down to grip at her upper thigh with the other, pulling her closer.

"Thanks for being so gracious about it." He smiles and squeezes her hip before lifting his hand to cradle the side of her face, thumbing at the swell of her bottom lip before leaning in to give her a soft kiss.

"Will you stay over?" Steve asks as he kisses along her face, under her chin. "Because we need to have sex a bunch more times and then go get breakfast."

"Of course," she answers. Rue isn't the sort of roommate to worry about Maeve if she doesn't come home, more likely to assume she's with Steve than anything, and she'd mostly be right about that. The only other time Maeve might not make it home is if she's fallen asleep somewhere stupid on campus, in the library or the corner of the student lounge, working on an assignment.

"A bunch more times, hmm?" she asks, tilting her head to give Steve access to her throat. Her hand strokes along his back, eyes closed as she smiles. "Just how many times do you really think you've got it in you, Harrington?"

Maeve is well aware of his stamina and has no issues with it, she just can't help but tease him given the chance.

“Oh, so many more,” Steve volleys back, smiling against Maeve’s pulse and biting softly. “You might not even be able to walk tomorrow, and I’ll have to wait on you all day.”

He’s teasing, but he does still feel hungry for her. He wants to satisfy her, make her feel good over and over again, wants them both to come until they’re exhausted.

“And even once I’m spent, there’s always my fingers,” he says in a warm, low voice, pulling back to look at her as he reaches down between them to rub his fingers at her slit, letting them slip between the still slick folds of her cunt, over her clit and then inside of her. He knows that Maeve likes getting fingered, and he likes doing it just about as often as he can.

“I missed you very much, for many reasons,” Steve continues in a low, flirty sort of voice that’s designed to turn her on, pulling back to look at her face as he works his fingers in and out of her. “But I did miss this. I had a dream that we went to the movies and I went down on you in the theater.”

His fingers continue working slowly in and out of her and he keeps his other arm around Maeve’s narrow waist so she can’t wriggle away, perfect tits pressed to Steve’s chest. “Which for the record, I would totally do.”

"And get us both arrested," she answers, though she's laughing, already a little breathless. Steve is really good with his fingers, which has never been much of a shock, given how he's good with just about everything else, too.

They have fun together, they can laugh together, and Maeve thinks that's more important than just about anything. Right now, though, she wants something that means a bit more. She doesn't know how to express that, how to tell Steve, she's not sure of the words she needs to tell him how much she missed their connection.

Well, she knows the words, but she knows they sound corny. Making love isn't something Maeve has ever said before.

Maeve gets a look on her face that Steve can't easily interpret. She seems to want something, but she usually isn't shy about expressing such things. It's one of the things that Steve loves about her, because it's no secret that he can be kind of an idiot.

He slides his fingers out of her and brings them up to his mouth without much thought, quickly sucking them clean so he can put his hand on her shoulder. With a gentle nudge, he pushes her onto her back and leans over her, hair spilling over his forehead as he looks down at her.

"What is it?" He asks gently, leaning down to playfully nudge his nose against hers. "You know that somethings I need things explained to me like I'm five."

"I just..." Maeve bites her lip, watching him lick his fingers clean having sent a surge of hot arousal through her. It isn't impossible to have both, she knows, someone who fucks her like they've just met in a bar and have barely managed to get to the back alley and still loves her.

But she still wants something a little different.

"I missed you," she murmurs, lifting one hand to push back his hair. She smiles a little and says, "So you've fucked me senseless first and now I just... I want a little romance, I think. Shut up."

When Maeve admits what she's after, Steve tries not to look too visibly delighted. He knows that stuff like this is hard for Maeve, even harder than it is for him, and he doesn't want her to be embarrassed.

"You want romance? Oh, sweetheart, I'll give you romance," he says very seriously, pressing a kiss to the center of her chest before rolling off of the bed. "Get in the middle of the bed. Hold on."

He knows that he's being ridiculous, but he runs out of the room and collects the two candles that he knows to be in the living room, realizing only belatedly that he isn't entirely sure that they're alone. He makes it back unseen, and then arranges the candles next to Maeve's on her nightstand, grabbing a lighter from the drawer (along with another condom), and lighting all the wicks.

After turning off the lights and locking the door, Steve excitedly comes over and hops on the bad, landing on his side next to Maeve, propping his head up on his hand, grinning at her. "Hello, beautiful."

Her eyebrows shoot up when Steve jumps off the bed, heading out into his living room without even putting on any clothes. God, she hopes Robin still isn't home, because neither of them will live this down if she is.

When he returns, he has two candles, and Maeve has moved into the centre of the bed, as instructed. Steve lights them, then throws himself on the bed, his head propped up in his hand, and Maeve can't help but laugh.

"Hi," she answers. "You're the fucking best."

"You deserve the best," Steve tells her, because it's easy to be romantic when he means it, and he always means it with her. "Oh, one more thing."

He rolls over to grab his phone from the nightstand, tongue touching the corner of his mouth in concentration as he opens his music app and does a quick search and lowers the volume until the song is background noise. After setting it to play similar songs after, Steve drops the phone and turns back to Maeve.

Maeve, who looks unreal in the flickering candlelight, too good to possibly exist. But she does, and somehow, for some reason, she's here with him.

"God, you're so beautiful," Steve tells her as he moves in close, and it isn't a line. He's honest, sounding awed as he reaches up to put his hand on her face, sweeping her hair back and leaning in to kiss her on the mouth, murmuring against her lips. "Do you have any idea how much I missed you? It was only days and I felt like I couldn't breathe."

She'd asked for romance and while Steve is happy to provide, none of it is an act. It comes so easy with her.

This is all like nothing she's ever had before and everything she wanted, but only from one very specific person. Only from Steve. She had told Otis all this traditional romance only serves to make her uncomfortable and for the most part it had been true, but first Jackson had come through the cafeteria with a grand gesture, singing and melting her heart, and now there's Steve, who is embracing what she's asked with gusto.

And not a word of it rings false. It might be cheesy, it might be the sort of thing that scared her not so long ago, but it's real. That matters more than anything.

"Good thing I'm back," she murmurs against his mouth, her hand sliding down his back.

"So fucking good," he replies, kissing her again and shifting on top of her, bracing his weight on one elbow as his other hand lifts to touch her face, fingers dragging lightly down the side of her neck.

Steve kisses her again, her mouth and then her cheek, down the side of her neck as he rocks lightly against her. He covers her skin with kisses, lingering and soft, and then lifts his head to look at her in the low light.

"What do you want?" He asks quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear as he stares at her with open adoration all over his face. "I'll give you anything you want."

"Just you," she says, smiling gently, her eyes moving over him. His face first, his warm eyes, the curve of his lips, his shoulder, his neck, his arm braced on the mattress beside her.

"I'm just... I'm happy to be here with you," she continues. Statements of big feelings are usually difficult for Maeve, even now, after all this time with Steve. She wants to be honest with him and she tries so hard for him, she's trying right now. She just wants to be with him, have the reminder of him, his weight on her, his body inside her.

"Oh, babe," he says in a low, fond voice, lightly trailing the pads of his fingers down the side of her face as he smiles at her. "You have me. I'm all yours."

Neither of them are possessive of each other, not really all that jealous, but a part of him does belong to her. That's just fact. He loves her, so he's hers.

"I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He knows that a lot of people have let Maeve down, abandoned her or hurt her or both, and Steve never wants to be one of these people. He wants her to feel safe and secure in that knowledge. "I love you and I am going to keep on doing it for as long as you let me."

It's difficult for Maeve to believe anyone will really be there for her in the long term, only because those who have come before have fucked it up for her so completely. But with Steve, she wants to believe and that allows a little glimmer of hope, the romantic core of her she tried for so long to deny, and she smiles up at him, nodding.

"I know," she says, then grins as she leans up to kiss him, her arms slipping around his body to hold him against her. He's warm and his muscles are hard and she breaks the kiss to drag her lips along his jaw, brushing over stubble, then she bites his chin, grinning against his skin.

She bites him and he hisses playfully, laughing and sliding his hand along her chest, pinching at her nipple and giving it a tug. He reaches over to grab another condom, and he wishes that they could have nothing between them, especially after her request, but that’s out of the question now.

Before their talk, he was willing to take risks because he hadn’t really thought about it. Even though he hadn’t wanted children when he was young, it didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. He had assumed they would have some someday, but now he knows differently, and accidents can’t happen.

He looks at the condom and then sits up a little, ripping it open with his teeth and reaching down between them to roll it onto his cock. After letting go, he twists his hand to rub at Maeve’s cunt, fingers sliding between her lips and up over her clit as he watches her face.

“You’re so wet,” he says with obvious awe, pushing two fingers noisily into her cunt as he ducks his head to press a kiss to her mouth.

"I must really like you," she answers and the teasing nature of her voice is lost a little in a breathless moan when Steve's fingers press inside of her. There's something so satisfying about it, especially with him, that sensation of being full, of having him on top of her, his mouth on her, and inside of her, too. Like he's everywhere.

And she wants him to be everywhere.

She moans into his mouth, her thighs falling open wider, inviting him in. She drags her fingers down his spine, her blunt nails catching his skin lightly as she hooks one leg around his.

"I must really like you, too," Steve says as he pulls his fingers free and grabs his rock hard cock instead, positioning the head of it against her cunt, rubbing it across her clit a few times. Finally, he sinks into her with a groan, pressing his elbows into the bed above her shoulders.

"You can feel how much I like you, right?" He asks in a low voice, just as he pulls nearly all the way out of her and sinks in again, but he doesn't just mean how hard his cock is. He wants her to feel it in the way his breath shakes and his heart pounds and his fingertips tremble when they touch her. He wants her to feel how much that love his a part of him, how it's seeped into every bit.

“I can,” she promises, her hand sliding down his back as he sinks into her. She gasps softly, because even after multiple orgasms, she feels tight around him and she loves how it feels, that stretch that comes with being filled. Specifically, she loves how it feels with him. It’s different with Steve and she knows she doesn’t have much to compare it to, but she still knows it’s different. Better.

The way he’s lying on top of her brings their faces close together, close enough that she can feel his breath on her cheek and she touches his face with one hand, then pushes back the thick fall of his hair.

“I really love you,” she murmurs as she tilts her hips to let him sink deeper into her.

"I know you do," Steve murmurs, and he really means it. He spent almost his entire life worried about what people thought of him, always so concerned that no one would love him, especially after everything with Nancy. But he knows that Maeve does. He was never entirely sure of how someone felt about him until her.

"You're not alone in it. I'm right here with you," he assures her, grunting softly as he rolls his hips, pulling nearly all the way out of her before plunging back in slowly, thighs trembling with exertion. "It's me and you, sweetheart. You're my family."

Those words are like a knife in her heart in a way that somehow feels good and Maeve gasps as Steve pushes into her again. Her actual family, it's not great. More than just not great, honestly, kind of the worst. But she has a different family here now.

She has Steve.

"Yes," she breathes, tilting her hips up further, inviting him in deeper. She wraps her leg around him, foot pressing into the back of his thigh. "I am."

Maeve rocks her hips and Steve lets out a groan, sliding his hand up between her shoulders to lift her as he shifts back onto his haunches, pulling her down onto him. He reaches out to grip the headboard with one hand while he holds onto her with the other, rocking up into her as he presses his face into her neck.

He wants to tell her how much she means to him, come up with dramatic prose like something out of one of the old books she likes, but he isn't good at that sort of thing at the best of times. Now, he can't seem to form words at all, so he fucks her desperately, hoping that she'll feel it in his body, and the way he kisses her.

It's easy to let Steve guide her, move her where he wants, and it's easy to go. She shifts forward, sinking onto him, a gasp spilling out of her as she wraps her arms around him and holds tight. After a moment, her embrace relaxes a little and she leans back, giving them both leverage to move.

"I love you," she whispers again, speaking into his mouth as they kiss. They're sharing breath and she can feel Steve every time his chest heaves, every time he gasps, every time she does. Her thighs tighten as she rocks into his lap, holding onto his shoulders, one hand sliding into his hair to grip tight.

She doesn't want to let him go. Not for anything.

"I love you," he echoes, kissing her again as he wraps his arm more securely around her waist so that he can fuck up into her a little harder. He feels a white-hot pressure in his groin that tells him that he's close, but he wants her there with him. In this position, he can't really get his arm between them without tipping them backward, so he pulls back enough to press their foreheads together.

"Can you touch yourself for me?" He pants out, angling his hips until he's sure by the sounds that she makes that he's striking her g-spot each time, over and over again. "I want to feel you come."