complexfemalecharacter | (no subject)

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steve

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Maeve absolutely cannot believe she's doing this.

It's very possible she loves Steve. She knows she likes him very much, obviously enough that she's willing to go camping with him when camping doesn't really seem like something she's going to enjoy that much. In Darrow, though, they can't exactly get away and while Maeve is mostly perfectly fine with that, it seems like Steve wants to have some kind of getaway.

She would never consider herself high maintenance, but there's something about sleeping in a tent she finds a little perilous and she isn't even sure why. And Maeve isn't used to feeling uncertain, so she tries not to let it show as she packs up a bag, trying to work out what she's supposed to bring camping. They might only be going for a night, but they'll be sleeping outside. In a tent.

"Steve?" she calls, looking at her bag. He's in the living room, finishing up their supplies, and she has no idea what the hell she's doing. "What do I bring to sleep in? How cold is it going to be?"

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"I'm very smart," she answers before she then tips onto her back as well to look up at the sky. It is cold and her skin is prickled with goosebumps, never mind the fact that the cold is killing her buzz just a little, but it's peaceful, too. The sky is dark and bright at the same time, the stars no longer blocked by the light pollution of the city.

Without moving, without sitting up, Maeve reaches out in the water blindly until her fingers find Steve's. She takes his hand, tangling their fingers together, then continues to float on her back as she exhales slowly and closes her eyes.

"There was a pool at Moordale," she tells Steve. "Most of the kids who went there had a decent amount of money. We had a swim team. I used to sneak in there after hours and go swimming."

Steve doesn't know if he believes in Heaven, but if it does exist, he hopes that it's something like this.

Maeve takes his hand in the water as they float and Steve stares up at the stars, feeling stoned in a mellow sort of way. He looks over at Maeve floating in the water, pale skin dappled with moonlight as her breasts just barely break the surface of the water, nipples hard from the chill. He feels turned on in a lazy sort of way, without any urgency to it, and he hums as he listens to Maeve speak.

Once again, he realizes just how good he had it. He could swim whenever he wanted, without any trespassing involved.

"If we had gone to school together, I would have tried to get you to come use my pool," Steve drawls out, imagining how that might have gone. "God, you probably would have hated me."

"Probably," she agrees. "But you can't hold it against me, I hated everyone in secondary school."

Not Aimee. Not Otis either, in the end. It turns out she actually hadn't hated many people at all, even though they had been cruel to her, even though she'd been a social pariah. But Steve was popular, like Ruby and Olivia and Anwar, and even though she knows he isn't anything like them, that's also the group he would have hung out with at Moordale.

"You would have been one of the Untouchables," she says, sounding amused. "They were the popular kids."

"Probably," Steve agrees, not sounding too thrilled about it. He doesn't have to ask for more details, because the Untouchables explains itself. They exist at every high school in every time, without question. For so long, that's what Steve thought he wanted;; the popularity, the power, the smugness in thinking that he was better than everyone else.

But he was wrong. So totally, completely wrong.

"Hopefully they'll also come to learn that it's all bullshit before it's too late," he says, twisting in the water so that he's treading instead of floating, ghosting a hand along Maeve's side before turning his head to kiss the inside of her arm once she's close enough. He noses at her shoulder and then at the side of her breast, letting his bottom lip rest against her skin as he looks up at her with big, earnest eyes. "I'm glad that you like me now. Like, really glad."

"I doubt it," Maeve answers. She's fairly certain Steve's change of heart is a rare thing. People who look like Ruby and Olivia don't change because the world never requires it of them. They have money and they have beauty and they have the right clothes, which all equals power.

Maeve doesn't think she's gross, not by any means, but she doesn't look like them. And she has the bad reputation to boot.

"Yeah, of course you are," she answers, grinning at him. "You're getting laid because I like you."

The comment makes Steve huff out a laugh, and maybe if he were feeling a little more insecure, it might worry him, but it doesn't. He knows that she cares about him, and wants him around for more than the fact that he's a fantastic lay.

She might not be able to talk about it yet, but that's okay. Steve isn't sure that he's ready yet, either. But he feels it, and so does she. That's good enough for now.

"You say that like I don't give as good as I get," he teases, sliding his hand along her body as she floats and cupping her between her legs, pressing his palm up where she's always so insanely warm. "I really want to drag you up into the grass and fuck you," he tells her, ducking under the water and resurfacing with his head between her legs, grinning as he tosses his wet hair back. "But I didn't bring a condom."

That hasn't always stopped them before, and he knows that she's on the pill, but he always leaves it up to her. Whatever they do is up to her, always, because he wants her to be safe and happy above all else.

"We'll freeze our arses off," Maeve says, laughing, hooking her knees over his shoulders, suddenly aware that she really is quite cold. The water hadn't felt as cold for a little while, but now that she's spoken, she can feel it again, prickling like little needles against her skin.

"But we could probably get warm back in the tent," she offers, eyebrow arched, one heel pressing into the skin between Steve's shoulder blades. "Where there are blankets and towels and a fire. And condoms, I assume."

She's on the pill, but she doesn't like taking risks more than she has to. One abortion is enough for Maeve.

"You would assume correctly," Steve murmurs as he takes Maeve's hands in his hips. She's practically weightless in the water, and while it's cold, Steve is perfectly content with the insides of her thighs brushing his ears. He leans over to kiss the curve of her ribs where they crest the water, and then he turns around and shifts Maeve's legs around his waist.

"Climb on, I'll swim us back." Once her arms are around his neck, he swims them back to shore and lifts her out of the water. The air prickles their skin and Steve hisses, laughing as he sets her down and scoops up his t-shirt, dabbing water from her naked body before scooping up his flannel and pulling it over her shoulders, helping her arms into it and smiling as he buttons it up with chilly fingers.

I love you, he thinks, but he doesn't say it. Maybe it's obvious by the look on his face, and once he's done with the buttons, he leans in to give her a soft kiss before turning away to grab his jeans and pull them onto his wet legs.

"All the shit I packed and I forgot towels," he says with a laugh, pushing his wet hair back from his face before scooping up the rest of their clothes. "You good to walk back?"

Maeve takes a moment to shove her feet into her boots, even though they're still a bit wet. Everything will dry by morning, she has to figure, and she'd rather not walk back barefoot. That would be worse than all the rest.

"Let's go," she agrees, teeth chattering a little as she shivers.

It's nice, though. Refreshing. Even though she'd been a little stoned earlier, she feels alert now and awake, like she hasn't in a long time. Everything about the air around them feels sharp, the starlight like pinpricks coming down through the trees.

"It really is pretty out here," she says as they walk back to their spot.

"Yeah, it really is," Steve agrees, looking up at the blanket of stars as he walks behind Maeve, holding a hand out to let it hover near her lower back just in case she slips, though he's careful not to let her see him doing it.

Once they get back to the campground proper, they pass a site where the people they saw at the lake earlier are sitting around a roaring campfire. One of them wolf whistles at the site of Maeve's bare legs and Steve's shirtlessness, but it's a good-natured, happy sound.

"Come have some beers with us later if you want!" One of the girls calls out, and Steve gives her a lazy salute as they pass. Once they're back to their own site, Steve curls his hand around Maeve's hip from behind and leans in to kiss her temple.

"Why don't you go in the tent and put on something dry," he offers, kissing her again before stepping away. "And I'll build the fire back up."

She hadn't been planning on putting anything else on at all and she glances back at Steve with an arched brow, but says nothing and instead slips into the tent after she's kicked off her boots again. She takes care not to track anything inside with her, then dries off as quick as she can using her own clothes, figuring this is why she brought clean clothes to wear the next day.

Then, without putting on anything dry, she slips into the sleeping bag and burrows down inside of it, still shivering a little. And she waits.

Steve will be in soon, he has to dry off, too.

Steve had only been thinking of getting her warm, but the look on Maeve's face intrigues him and he nearly gives up on the fire entirely to follow her, but they do need it. He makes himself gather fresh kindling and get the fire started, checking the rock circle to make sure there's nothing that could make it spread, and then turns to head towards the tent.

After wiping off his feet, he crawls into the tent and wriggles out of his wet jeans, tossing them outside before zipping up the flap. The fire casts a dim glow in the small space, and he turns to see Maeve peering out from a little opening in the sleeping bag.

"Oh good, you warmed it up for me," he teases as he unzips it enough to wriggle into it alongside of her, knocking their knees and hips together as he shoves his cold feet towards the bottom. He wraps his arms around her naked body and hums happily, reaching up to gently twist her cold, wet hair and move it away from her neck.

"Hi," he says softly, giving her a dopey smile and nudging their noses together before leaning in for a soft, lingering kiss.

"Get out of here, this is my sleeping bag," she protests playfully, trying to wrestle Steve away from her before letting him slip into the bag with her. His feet are cold and she kicks at them gently with her own, trying to keep him from putting them on her legs.

At least for now.

"Hi," she replies when he has his arms around her, her hair twisted away from her skin. She shivers, then leans in for another kiss, lingering there, his lips soft and tasting slightly of beer, of chocolate. Camping doesn't seem quite so awful when she thinks about what they've been doing tonight, how nice it feels now, wrapped up in the warmth of the sleeping bag and Steve's arms.

The ground is a little hard and the whole tent is cold, but Maeve is kissing him, her naked body pressed to his, so there is nowhere else he'd rather be.

He slides his arm under Maeve's head, wrapping it loosely around her as he kisses her again, licking into her mouth as his other hand slides down her back to the swell of her ass. It's the kind of kiss that just keeps going and going, mouths parting and meeting, tongues slicking together, and by the time he pulls back, it's warmer in the tent and his cock is hard against her hip.

"I told you it'd be fun," he says breathlessly, smiling against her mouth as he grabs lazily at her ass cheek, pulling her more tightly against him. "And that I'd keep you warm."

She hasn't had a lot of this, this lazy sort of foreplay, kissing and touching and not pushing for anything too quickly. Maeve doesn't like to compare, partly because she doesn't have a lot to compare to, but things have been different with Steve almost right from the start.

And this is nice. She hadn't even realized she'd like something like this, something slow and soft. Something that feels a lot less like fucking than it does something else.

"Yeah, it's been okay," she says, then nuzzles her nose against his cheek. "I like this part."

The reply makes Steve grin, because it feels so good to make Maeve happy. And knowing that she’s happy with him? There isn’t a anything better.

“What else would you like?” He asks quietly, maybe a bit suggestively, sliding his hand up the length of her back and down again. His cock is hard against her hip but it’s a lazy sort of arousal, lacking any real urgency.

“Because I am feeling very giving,” he teases, smiling against her cheek before pressing a kiss to it. “And I did promise you orgasms.”

"I remember something about that," she agrees in a low voice, nuzzling her nose against his cheek in return before she nudges her face against his, tilting his chin up slightly so she can kiss his throat. Her hand slides down the length of his body, over his ribs, then his hip, and she tucks her hand between their bodies to find the hard length of his cock.

"Did I promise orgasms, too?" she asks. "I can't remember."

Whether or not she did, she has plans. Her lips trace a path down Steve's throat to his collarbone where she kisses him again, her hand lazily beginning to stroke his cock at the same time.

Steve lifts his head to make room for Maeve’s mouth, swallowing hard and feeling his Adam’s apple bob against her lips. Her hand slides along his torso and Steve is pleased that it ends up exactly where he wants it to— around his cock. His breath hitches as he groans, keeping one tucked under her head while his other hand slides up and down her side.

“I feel like I would remember that,” he says with a rough chuckle, biting his lip as his cock slides through the firm grip of Maeve’s fist. “But I will happily take any off of your hands.”

Pleased by his play on words, he chuckles again, but it turns into a low moan as Maeve fists his cock. He rolls onto his back, tugging her body on top of his until she’s leaning over him, tits pressed to his chest as he reaches up to gently sweep her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He cups her face reverently, stroking the pad of his thumb lightly along her bottom lip.

"I probably have a few to spare," she answers with another soft sound, a little laugh, a little moan as she slowly strokes his cock. When Steve pulls her atop him, she moves easily, straddling his hips as she leans in for another long, slow kiss, without taking her hand from him.

The way he touches her face is so sweet and Maeve thinks not so long ago, she'd have pulled back from it. Even with Steve. It feels so intimate, like something that isn't meant for her, but right now she's still just the right side of stoned, relaxed from their cold swim, and instead his gentle touch just makes her shiver.

She kisses her way down his throat, toward his chest, then pauses to bite his nipple playfully.

He's still a little bit stoned, so maybe that's why Maeve kissing him while jerking him off has him feeling dazed out of his mind. Or maybe it's just because it's her, and sometimes he can't believe how lucky he is. She could have anyone, and she's with him.

"Oh god," he breathes out once her kisses start moving downward, cock twitching eagerly in her grip. Her teeth against his nipple send a jolt of pleasure-pain through him and he hisses, chuckling a bit as he slides his fingers into her damp hair, brushing it back away from her face as he lifts his head to look down at her.

"Are you heading where I think you're heading?" Steve asks, grinning breathlessly and biting his bottom lip as her hand drags back up the length of his cock. "Because that'd be about the best thing ever."

Maeve doesn't answer, instead she just tilts her head and bites gently at his side, not nearly enough to hurt, but a teasing warning for him not to ask any further questions. Her hand is still stroking him slowly, lazily, but it's clear she's planning on more than just that as she shimmies her way down into the sleeping bag.

It's a little more difficult like this, there isn't a lot of room in the sleeping bag or even in the tent, but Maeve doesn't mind. Their little cocoon has grown warm enough that she can shrug the bag back a bit to give herself more space as she presses her lips to Steve's lower belly.

"Did you have a direction in mind?" she asks then, tilting her head slightly to look up at him with a small smile.

Maeve's teeth scrape along his skin and Steve lifts a hand to bite at his fist, cock giving a little twitch in her hand as she shimmies downward. When she tosses the sleeping bag pack, Steve presses himself up onto one elbow to watch her, reaching out to sweep her hair back from her face, holding it in his fist for a moment before letting it go.

"I am very happy with the direction that you're taking us," Steve says with a rough chuckle, biting his bottom lip as he shifts his hips. "Fuck, Maeve."

She's just so hot, overwhelmingly so, and Steve can barely concentrate when her mouth is so close to his cock. It strains up eagerly, brushing the underside of her chin, and he hisses as he reaches out to touch her mouth, thumbing at her bottom lip.

"I am not too proud to beg," he says as he drags his thumb down her chin and along her jaw, subtly dragging her mouth open until he can see her pink tongue. "Please, babe."

Despite her reputation, Maeve isn't a cockbiter. She actually loves giving head, even if it's only been Jackson and now Steve, she just doesn't like assholes who try to push her into things she doesn't want to do. Boys are idiots and start rumours that are complete lies just because they don't get what they want.

But every so often, one isn't so bad. Steve isn't so bad.

Maeve tilts her head and drags her tongue up the length of his cock, taking him properly in hand and getting a good grip on him. Then she lifts her head,> her lips parting to take him into her mouth, slowly at first, sucking gently at the head of his cock before she lets him push further between her lips. She lets her saliva coat the shaft of his cock, making it easier for her to move both her hand and her mouth in time.

Steve knows that people used to talk shit about Maeve, probably because she's cool and mysterious and doesn't let people rile her, which can make assholes press even harder.

He never expects her to give him head. Yeah, he fucking loves it when she does, and it's one of his favorite things in the entire world, but he doesn't expect it and it's important for her to know that. She's doing this because she wants to, because she likes it, and that makes it feel so much better than the girls who would treat it like a chore.

Not that he could possibly think of other girls right now, not when he has the hottest one out there pulling his cock into her mouth. Steve lets out a low groan and reaches out to touch the side of her head, not pushing or pulling but just wanting that point of contact.

"Fuck," he breathes out, staring wantonly as his cock sinks into her mouth, lips meeting fist over and over again. "You're my favorite person in the whole world."

It's funny, because she knows he means that, even outside of the fact that she has his dick in her mouth right now. Any other guy and she would think it had everything to do with the blowjob and nothing to do with her personally, but she doesn't think that about Steve.

If it did have to do with that, she'd have actually become a cockbiter long ago.

With a soft hum, Maeve sinks lower onto his cock, taking him deeper into her mouth, one hand still stroking the base of his dick while the other slips between his legs, cupping his balls in her palm. She uses her tongue, moves it around the head of his cock again before sinking down again, starting a slow, bobbing rhythm.