Title: The Usual Negotiations
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Braeden/Marin
Rating: NC-17
Length: 489 words
Content Notes: Set before Season Three.
Summary: Braeden's never been able to resist Marin and the trouble she brings.


Braeden’s thumb digs into the label on her bottle of beer. “You want me to go after an Alpha pack?”

Marin stares back at her in that impassive way she has. So much time spent around werewolves has made her an expert at hiding all physical signs of emotion. Makes her damn hard to read, but Braeden tries it anyway. “I want you to rescue somebody the Alphas have taken.”

Braeden exhales a tired laugh. “You want me to go after your Alpha pack?”

That gets her a reaction. So small nobody else would notice it, just the thinnest narrowing of Marin’s eyes. But while Marin has practice at hiding her thoughts, Braeden has practice at seeing through her mask.

“Not feeling up to the challenge?” Marin asks, smiling slow and goading and guaranteed to get under Braeden’s skin. Sometimes Braeden thinks they know each other too well.

Doesn’t mean she won’t let Marin’s words fall exactly the way she intends them, and this time her laugh is longer, throatier. “Babe, you know I’m always up for a challenge.” Her foot finds Marin’s ankle under the table, heel sliding up the side of her shin. “That question is, are you up to paying my price?”

Marin’s grin reminds her of the one she remembers from when they were younger, before things got messy, complicated, covered in other people’s blood. “I’m sure I can think of some way to pay you,” she muses, and they both push up from their seats at the same time.

Braeden’s beer rolls to the floor, the table lurching as they reach for each other across it.

They don’t make it to the bed. Which is pretty much the norm for them.

Braeden uses her weight to press Marin back against the couch cushions, her mouth at Marin’s neck, perfectly manicured nails digging into Braeden’s shoulders. Kissing sloppy and hungry as she gets Marin’s skirt up around her waist, and then groaning for the realisation that Marin’s wearing nothing underneath.

Marin’s eyes glitter when Braeden pulls back, all trace of her usual placid mask gone, replaced by that look of desire that’s gotten Braeden in and out of trouble more times than she can count. Braeden grins wide enough to bare her teeth, and Marin’s head falls back when Braeden pushes her thumb up hard against Marin’s clit.

She kisses Marin deep, swallowing down every gasp as she drags her knuckle against Marin’s labia over and over, feeling how hot and slick she is. Marin’s hands work Braeden’s fly open, push inside, and she bites Marin’s bottom lip for the curl of her fingers.

She’ll find this Lahey kid, rescue him from that damn pack of Alphas Marin works with. It’ll be rough, but Braeden’s good, she’ll manage, she’ll get him out. But that’s something to plan for tomorrow.

Tonight the only plan she has is making Marin moan for her like tomorrow’ll never come.