#bab writes

~~~~~~~~

Caroline sat up quickly  glancing around to see if she was in her own bed, breathing a sigh of relief she leaned back on her pillows and looked around the room. Her purple accent wall stared back at her. Caroline covered her face and tried not to groan out loud. This never would have happened if Katherine hadn’t insisted on pre-graduation drinks last night. She held her breath listening for sounds that her roommate, and man most definitely on her ‘do not fuck list’, Klaus was up yet.

Not hearing anything she grabbed a hoodie and sweatpants and slowly opened her door and glanced around the common area of their shared apartment. Not seeing him she tiptoed over to her bag and pulled out her phone. Scrolling through the texts she had sent she breathed a sigh of relief, maybe that kiss and those hands had all been a dream.

She had texted him. She’d insisted he come out to the bar and dance with her. Biting her lip she walked over to the coffee machine and started to get it set up. Taking a deep breath she slipped her phone into her pocket and waited for an acceptable amount of coffee to fill the pot before pouring herself a much needed cup. Walking into their joint bathroom she slipped into the room and locked the door.

Placing the mug down on the ledge she got into the shower, standing under the hot water she ran through the events of last night over and over again in her head. Honestly she blamed Kat for all of it.

~~~~~~~

“Care, you’re twenty-three. You are graduating college with your bachelors and masters two years ahead of schedule and you have a job just up town so you don’t have to move,” Katherine said through Caroline’s bluetooth as she walked home from her last final and thesis presentation.

“I just, I need to get a good night’s sleep, I am so anxious about graduating. Caroline said softly as she weaved and bobbed through the typical Thursday traffic of Manhattan around her.

“You need to come out for drinks with me and Bonnie,” Kat argued her voice steel even over airwaves.

“One drink,” Caroline relented as she slipped into her apartment building and up the stairs to her apartment on the fourth floor.

“Awesome we’ll see you at Jimmy’s at 9,” Kat sang before hanging up.

Four hours later found Caroline, Kat, Bonnie and Rebekah dancing at a club after drinking tequila shots at Jimmy’s. Rebekah had mentioned finding an amazing club and with the alcohol clearly in the driver’s seat for all of them, they’d quickly agreed.

Caroline had moved over to their table and was taking a sip from her water bottle when Kat joined her. “You aren’t going home already?”

“Kitty-Kat, I said one drink and that was hours ago,” she groaned pulling her phone out to let her roommate and other best friend know that she was coming home.

“Care!! Is that Nik?” Beks voice interrupted them as the other blonde came bounding over drunk and over excited.

“Yea, I’m going home,” Care said grinning at her roommates little sister.

“Boo you whore.” Beks pouted arms crossed looking at her best friend.

Caroline felt herself caving, “I could ask him to join us?”

Kat made a face of disinterest, Bekah was clapping excitedly and Bonnie just shrugged having joined late in the conversation. Caroline switched gears, Bekah’s excitement contagious as she texted Nik to join them for drinks and dancing.

An hour later they’d cheered as Nik approached, the added alcohol of the passed hour lifting their spirits as they danced. Dressed in a black button down and his typical black jeans he had smiled at their excitement.

He and Caroline had danced tight and close for the rest of the night, their hips grinding and their hands around necks or on hips. By the time they’d gone home, Caroline had convinced herself to go for it. What was the worst that could happen. Then the worst had happened.

~~~~~~~

Klaus was mortified, he’d been coerced out to the club and the rest of the night had been a whirlwind and a dream he’d found himself dancing with Caroline in his arms, something he’d only allowed himself to dream about. He didn’t want to ever make her feel like he’d only been her friend because he wanted to sleep with her. If he was honest it had been the exact opposite reason.

He’d been dating a redhead named Aurora and she’d been with that fratbro Tyler, their freshman year when they’d met. Fast forward three years and they were roommates and best friends. They’d had different relationships with other people and never been single at the same time. This past year had been the first time they’d both been single at once. He’d only realized that he was in love with her when he’d started to go on dates with blonde girls who were pale imitations of her.

Laying in bed he waited till he heard the shower start, to sneak out into the kitchen and get a cup of coffee. Leaning against the counter he sipped it slowly and sighed as the caffeine chased away the small hangover he had. Groaning he rubbed his face and looked around their apartment. They had without realizing it completely intertwined their lives, it was hard to see in the shared space where she stopped or he started. It was simply theirs. Now he’d fucked it up.

As he started back to his room to change, the bathroom door flew open with a burst of steam and Caroline walked out in a towel. Jumping back so as not to get hit by the door he barely stopped a groan as she looked so lovely just in a towel as she stood there. Her hair faintly starting to curl and her lips full, just waiting for him to kiss her. Shaking his head he stepped around and ducked into his room, not saying a word.

Caroline blinked and looked at the closed door her heart beating a mile a minute. He’d been shirtless, and in the sweatpants that tended to slip off his left hip. She hadn’t heard him over the sound of the running water and had hoped he was still asleep. Caroline was a little hurt that he’d been too disgusted to even pause and talk to her. Slipping off to her room she grabbed a fresh set of panties, tank top and her favorite lounge pants. No sense in wearing a bra if she was just lounging around the house.

Once dressed she walked out into their living room and laid on the couch while she sifted through her social media and texts from everyone from the night before. Two hours later and he still hadn’t come out of his room and Caroline was starting to feel hurt. Was she really that unattractive that he’d rather avoid her than talk about what happened.

Nik and her had met in their intro to communication a prereq for both their majors and become fast friends. Soon they were studying and just hanging out together when they weren’t with their respective partners. Klaus had been with that insipid bitch Aurora, and she’d been dating Tyler. Somehow while their romantic relationships hadn’t continued, their friendship had. They’d gotten an apartment off campus sophomore year and spent the last three years making it their home.

Caroline had realized she was falling in love with him when she’d gotten the flu last year and he’d canceled everything to take care of her. Something not even Bonnie was willing to do. Caroline was a terrible patient. Yet, Klaus hadn’t even blinked, he’d taken all her bitching, crabbiness and illness in stride.

Now she’d ruined everything by thinking that he felt the same way. He couldn’t even look at her without bolting. Pulling a pillow over her face she groaned out loud cursing the stars and gods for her bad luck. Sitting up she took a deep breath. She was Caroline Marie Forbes, she could fix this.

Walking over to his door she pulled it open and walked in closing the door behind her. Klaus glanced up, his eyes wide and he cleared his throat before shoving his sketchbook behind him.

“Why don’t you want me?” she asked her arms crossed glaring at her supposed best friend. “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

Klaus blinked caught off guard and confused before her words made sense and he opened and closed his mouth like a guppie. “Excuse me luv.”

“Why won’t you sleep with me?” she asked her glare sharpening at him as she started to feel her lower lip tremble. “Why is Cami good enough for you, but I’m not?”

Klaus was off the bed and taking her arms to lead her to the side of the bed and sitting her down next to him on his comforter. “Luv, I am head over heels in love with you, I have been for the last two years. I didn’t want to take advantage of you last night.” He ran a hand over her shoulder and wiped a few stray tears away from her eyes. “Also Cami and I never slept together.”

“She told the fifth floor of Whit-hall, that you two had sex over parents weekend,” Caroline sniffled feeling mortified for having fallen for such a stupid rumor. Still she allowed Klaus to hold her and she felt better.

“She wanted too, but I couldn’t bring myself too. Not when I was thinking of you the whole time,” he said softly looking down at his best friend. Smoothing her hair back he offered her a small smile, “I didn’t want our first time to be when you were drunk.”

Caroline brightened at that and wrapped her arms around his neck. “So you’ve thought of a first time with us?”

Klaus chuckled wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. “Oh sweetheart, I’ve dreamed of being your last for a long time.”

Caroline squeaked when he picked her up like she weighed nothing and allowed herself to be pulled onto his lap. Looking into his eyes she bit her lip and looked around his bedroom. “Well what if we have our first time now?”

In hindsight, you often say, you could pinpoint the moment Rafe started to spiral. You’d seen it brewing during the last few weeks of your pregnancy, but you couldn’t put a name to it then. It was a shift, a subtle change in him, from being detached and almost in denial, to this heavy weight of fear settling into his bones. Topper hadn’t noticed it at first—he still didn’t fully understand—but you did. You always did.

Until the end of your third trimester, the pregnancy had been mostly fun for all of you. Full of light moments, late-night cravings, excitement, and sex. Lots of sex. 

The baby was wanted—so wanted by all three of you—but for Rafe, it had always been a distant concept, something not entirely real. Planning for the baby had been yours and Topper’s thing. The two of you could already picture the little one crawling through your apartment, her giggles echoing through the space. But for Rafe, the idea of fatherhood felt hypothetical, something he could avoid thinking about, something he didn’t have to touch yet.

But then it got real.

The day your daughter was born, it all crashed down. 

As soon as you went into labor, Rafe spiraled. He had panic attack after panic attack. You saw it but you couldn’t do anything about it. You could just lie there and watch him from across the room. You could do nothing but watch him even leave the room, over and over again.

Topper had been so overwhelmed by the chaos of the hospital, the excitement of it all, that he didn’t really see what was happening. But you did. You saw Rafe’s hands shake, his breathing quicken, his eyes widen with that deep, dark fear.

“Rafe,” you had whispered in between contractions, exhausted but focused. “It’s okay, babe, I promise. Just call your sponsor. Please. You need help, fast, and I’m a little busy here.”

But Rafe didn’t call Barry. He just sat there, frozen, not understanding how to step into his role as a father, terrified of the mess he could make. Topper—your golden retriever of a partner, always eager to help—had missed the cues, laughing nervously, believing this was all just a temporary wave of emotions. He didn’t understand how deep Rafe’s fear went. 

But you did.

#

The days following the birth were a blur. Rafe was in and out of the apartment, never in the same room as the baby. You’d catch Topper shooting him worried glances, but Rafe avoided everyone. Not even once did he touch the baby. 

“Please tell me he’s not using,” you whispered to Topper one night as you stood in the kitchen, barely keeping it together. Your body was still recovering, and your mind was exhausted from trying to juggle it all—your baby, Rafe’s unraveling, and keeping the fragile balance of your triad.

“I don’t know,” Topper replied, his face showing nothing but irritation and disbelief.

“Look after him, Topper,” you said, feeling the weight of your words. Rafe needed more than just your reassurance. He needed one of you to be there for him and right now, you couldn’t be that person. 

So, you really wanted Topper to step up for Rafe, but the cracks in their relationship had started to show. Rafe was distant, closed off, and Topper was too hurt to push.

The problem was, they fought all the time. 

One afternoon, five whole days after your daughter’s birth, Rafe stormed out of the apartment, when he just couldn’t take it anymore. 

You didn’t know what hurt more, your body aching from childbirth and your heart breaking for him. 

When he returned, he was quiet, his energy depleted. 

He found you resting in bed. Alone. 

“Can I lie with you for a bit?” He asked quietly. There was shame written all over his beautiful features. Shame… nothing but shame. 

You nodded, already sensing something in him was breaking.

He handed you a small plastic bag with two pills. “Don’t hate me, please,” he whispered, his voice tight.

An icy shudder ran down your spine as you stared at the pills. “Rafe…”

“I didn’t take any. I promise.”

“What are they?” 

“Some benzos, Ativan or Xanax, I don’t remember what I asked for.” Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really care what he’d asked for. Benzos are downers—highly addictive downers. Self-medicating was what had gotten him into drug abuse in the first place; you hadn’t been there, but you knew.

You closed your eyes for a moment, forcing yourself to breathe. This was bad, you knew. “Thank you for giving them to me, babe,” you managed to say, though inside, you were terrified. “I’m proud of you.”

Rafe didn’t talk, not even when you begged him to. 

"Talk to me, baby," you whispered against his hair, over and over again. “Please, Rafe.”

He stayed curled up beside you, desperately clinging to physical closeness, as if that could keep him tethered. He didn’t move. He didn’t sleep. He just lay there.

You glanced at the clock, then looked up at Rafe, urging him, “The NA group meets at 8 tonight. You should go.” 

He shook his head, his voice heavy with reluctance. “I really don’t want to.” 

“And that’s exactly why you need to go,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Rafe’s gaze fell to the bed sheets as he murmured, “I gave you the pills.” 

“Yeah… still… please, Rafe,” you pleaded, but he remained stubborn. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

He stayed beside you, trapped by his own fear, too scared to leave the house and too proud to admit it to you or Topper. Tears welled up in your eyes but he didn’t even notice.

#

Hours later, you slipped out of bed to check on Topper and the baby. She was still asleep, so you took the chance to confront Topper in the kitchen. “You’re doing an awesome job with her,” you said softly, “but you’re an idiot for holding everything against Rafe. We're three parents, the chance of one of us developing postnatal depression was pretty high and given his history, it makes sense that it is him.”

Topper’s face hardened. “We have everything we ever wanted. Why is he acting like this?”

“He’s scared shitless,” you snapped. 

“Of what?” Topper snapped back.

“Of himself!” You idiot, you added in your mind, “Jesus Christ, Topper! Since when are you so oblivious? You're usually so good at reading him.”

Topper looked guilty but he still didn’t know how to approach Rafe—he didn’t seem to want to approach Rafe at all. You felt the strain between them, and it scared you. Rafe needed both of you to pull him back from the edge, but Topper’s hurt and frustration had already built a wall between them.

“Rafe, you have to give us something,” you told him once you were back in bed with him. “This family needs you.”

“You don’t need me,” Rafe said, his voice cracking. “The baby has you and Topper. You’re both perfect.”

“Is that what this is about? We don’t even know whose baby it is, and it doesn’t matter!” you said, trying to make him understand, but Rafe shook his head.

“No, this isn’t about genes,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“Okay,” you replied gently, reaching for his hand. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Topper and I need you. If you struggle with her, that’s fine. Take your time, but we need you.”

It was as though the dam inside him finally broke. Rafe’s face crumpled, and he started to sob, great heaving breaths as though all the fear and guilt he’d been bottling up poured out at once. You pulled him into your arms, holding him as tightly as you could. "We love you," you whispered, stroking his hair, trying to let him feel how much he mattered.

Topper came into the room with the baby cradled in his arms, her small cries filling the space. He handed her to you to feed and in return, you signaled him with a look to take over comforting Rafe. It was the first time, as far as you could tell, that Topper had physically touched Rafe since the baby was born. The warmth of that touch seemed to soften Rafe even more, and his sobs slowed to quiet, broken breaths.

Once the baby was done feeding and Topper stepped away, you saw Rafe staring at her, his eyes wide and uncertain. There was longing there, besides so much fear. You swallowed hard and approached him.

“Sit up,” you said softly. He hesitated but did as you asked.

You passed him the baby, watching as his hands trembled while he held her for the first time. His whole body was tense, his breath shallow, his face filled with dread. “Meet your papa,” you whispered to your daughter with a smile, hoping to ease some of Rafe’s tension.

“I’m going to fuck her up so bad,” Rafe mumbled, his voice barely audible but shaking with conviction.

Topper, who had been watching from the corner, looked stunned. “What?” he asked incredulously.

“You’re not,” you replied calmly, meeting Rafe’s eyes. “You’re not going to mess anything up, Rafe.”

“I’m going to fuck everything up,” Rafe insisted, his voice cracking as his anxiety surged again. He quickly passed the baby back to you, his face pale. “Fuck. I’m gonna throw up.”

He stood up abruptly and left the room. This is when pure panic bloomed in your chest. You glanced at Topper, your heart pounding. “Topper,” you said urgently, “I know we are all stressed and tired but you have to take care of him or we’re going to lose him. He’s thinking about leaving us, I’m not even kidding.”

Topper’s face tightened. He didn’t argue. He followed Rafe out of the room, and you could hear the low murmur of voices from the hallway.

Rafe had always been hard on himself, always felt like he was on the verge of failure. You knew he was beating himself up for feeling so useless, for not knowing how to be a father yet. But none of this was easy for him, for any of you.

“If you want to help,” Topper’s voice rose, uncharacteristically stern, “then start by taking care of yourself first, Rafe! You’re not much help if we have to look after you all the time. Jesus Christ, you’re jeopardizing everything, Rafe, even your work!”

There was a long pause, then Rafe’s voice, so quiet that you almost didn’t understand him. “I don’t know what to do, Top.”

Topper softened immediately. “Therapy, Rafe. As soon as possible. And groups, twice a day if you have to.” 

Again, there was a long stretch of silence.

“I know we have a lot going on,” Rafe admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But… could you take me? I know I’m shit for even asking, there’s so much going on with the baby, but I’m not sure what I’ll do if I leave the apartment alone.”

Topper didn’t hesitate. You watched as he drew Rafe into his arms, kissing the top of his head over and over again. “Of course, dickhead,” Topper whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Rafe murmured, his voice cracking.

They both turned to you, and Topper asked, “Are you okay if we go to a meeting?”

You smiled at them, the weight on your chest easing just a bit. “I’ll manage two hours without you. Go, please.” You waved them out, pushing them lovingly toward the door.

#

That night, Topper brought Rafe home from his meeting, and you made sure to welcome him back with open arms. After Rafe showered, Topper and you sat in the kitchen, talking quietly about dinner.

“I ordered Lillo’s,” Rafe said, a tentative smile on his face. Lillo’s had always been your go-to for cozy family nights.

You stood up and wrapped your arms around his waist. “I’m so proud of you,” you whispered against his chest, feeling his body relax into your embrace. Right then, you knew you were going to be alright.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole,” Rafe said, his voice breaking again as tears welled in his eyes. “I’m so afraid of ruining her.”

You held him tighter, Topper coming to stand beside you, resting his hand on Rafe’s back. “Rafe, you need to stop saying that,” you told him firmly. “You won’t ruin her.”

Topper leaned in, kissing his temple, his voice gentle but direct. “You’re not Ward, Rafe.”

Rafe flinched at the mention of his father’s name, but Topper didn’t shy away. He needed to hear it, and you could see him start to process it.

“We’ll all make mistakes,” you added, reaching for Rafe’s hand, “but we’re going to be alright. She’s going to be alright.”

Rafe looked at you both, raw and vulnerable. “Can I hold her?” he asked, voice trembling.

Normally, you wouldn’t wake the baby, but this felt like an exception. You gently picked her up and passed her to Rafe. His arms shook as he cradled her, but you could see the awe in his eyes as he stared down at her sleeping face.

“She’s so perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

And for the first time ever, the four of you felt like a family.

#

In the weeks that followed, Topper stepped up even more. Aside from aiming for 'Father of the Year' by taking care of the baby as much as humanly possible, he also took Rafe to his meetings and therapy sessions and helped him with work, reminding him to check emails and take calls and do work and take breaks. How Topper did it—you had no idea.

And slowly, Rafe began to heal. 

A month later, you found him taking a phone call from a client with Lila nestled in his arms, rocking her to sleep as he worked.

You watched him from across the room, and your heart swelled with love. He looked over at you and smiled, and you smiled back, knowing deep down that you were good.

You were all good.

All four of you.

You tie up Rafe's hands behind his back. "Color?" you ask him.

"Green."

"Alright," you smile happily, "On your knees then."

He looks at Topper while he does. Oh how the tables have turned. Normally Topper submits to the two of you.

"Eyes on Rafe," you order and Topper obeys automatically, not able to look anywhere else but at this beautiful man right in front of him.

"What's your color?" Top asks and you nearly stop because this is huge. Topper has never asked for Rafe's color before. Your natural order was you on top, then Rafe as a switch, then Topper at the bottom. These roles have never been reversed before. You try not to show how nervous you suddenly are to see Rafe’s reaction because power was important to him.

Rafe sucks Topper's dick and lets go with a pop. "Green," he answers, and gets back to work. So there's that question answered.

You stand behind Topper, let your hands move all over his torso. His sides, his chest, his abs. When you start playing with his nipples, he moans loudly and lets his head fall back. "Eyes on Rafe, Top," you remind him and take a step sideways to stand beside him. "Watch him suck you off." You both look down at Rafe, his lips wrapped around Topper's cock, his eyes open and mischievous, his gaze fixed on Topper's face. You love it because you know that by the end of this he will look all teary eyed, tired or fucked out. Maybe even all three of the above. "It's so hot, isn't it?" You rile up Topper further.

"Yes," Topper murmurs in awe, enjoying every second of it.

"Tell Rafe what a good job he is doing," you order before you crouch down next to Rafe, grabbing his dick firmly. He is nearly as hard as Topper is, clearly turned on by what he is doing to your boyfriend.

He moans around Topper's cock when you start stroking his and you swear, Topper nearly comes from this.

"Tell him, Topper!" You demand impatiently when Topper does not start talking.

"He's so good at it," Topper chokes out. You nearly start to laugh. It is so endearing how Topper just loses it as soon as one of you starts touching him.

"Don't tell me, Top, tell him," you order again.

You figure, Rafe does something with his tongue because all Topper can do is stand there, mouth open, breathing hard, trying not to come just yet. You decide that this is not working.

"Is he fucking you just right?" You ask Topper, continuing to work Rafe's dick, hot and heavy in your hand.

"Yes, he is," Topper says with a whimper.

"Look at him, how beautiful he is on his knees, just for you. Sucking you off just right. Making you feel good." Rafe pulls off Topper's dick just to swallow him down in one go the very next second.

Topper's breath hitches and a tiny whimper escapes his lips.

"Yeah," his voice is not more than a sigh. You decide it's enough for now.

You let go of Rafe's dick and stand up. "You're close, mh?" You ask Topper and he nods eagerly. "You want to come?"

"Yeah," he sighs again.

"Too bad you're not allowed just yet," You say quietly, "It's my turn first."

With your words, Rafe stops sucking and Topper lets out a high pitched whine. "Why don't you work up, Rafe?" You whisper in Topper's ear, "Tease him all you want, edge him, while he eats me out. Make him pay for teasing you this morning?" It's as if a light went on in Topper's eyes. You smirk at him while you take his place, standing right in front of Rafe. "You can even touch yourself, Top," you say louder so that Rafe also hears it, "But none of you is allowed to come just yet!"

Then you let your eyes fall on Rafe. "Hello sweet boy," you say teasingly, cupping his face. Now that you get to look at him up close, you notice that he is more worked up than you thought. His lips are all red and puffy, his breathing is ragged and he is sweating from working Topper's dick so hard.

The mischief is still evident in his eyes though. "Hello sweet girl," he says back, his voice so husky that you're sure you could come just from listening to him.

"What's your colour?" - "Green."

"Good," you smile softly, "You're up for round two?"

"Always," he answers.

“I think boys should eat pussy on their knees a little more often,” you say with a shiteating grin.

He has his tongue out before your pussy is even close enough for him to touch. So eager, so good. He eats you out so good that he has you moaning in no time. You have your hands tangled in his hair, guiding his head a little but really, he is doing all the work. He knows exactly what he is doing, knows exactly what you like.

"Untie his hands, Top," you order because you need to have Rafe's fingers in you right now.

"Finger me, Rafe," you order as soon as Rafe's hands are free and Rafe happily complies.

"You're doing so good," you praise him, "Eating me out so well while Topper is jerking you off."

Rafe breaks off, trying to catch his breath. "Uh, Top, stop," he groans, breathing heavily.

"No," you order strictly. "Top, keep him on that edge. Teases get teased, Rafe!"

Rafe breathes out, trying really hard not to come. He scoffs, "You tease us all the time. Why does this rule not apply to you?"

"That's not how this relationship works!" You grin but you're also very impatient, "Get back to eating me out, make me come," you demand.

It doesn't take you long to come after that.

Deciding that Rafe neither needs nor deserves a break, you make Topper fuck his face right after you step away from his mouth. Holding Rafe's head steady while he takes Topper's cock, you realise that you wouldn't even have to do that. Rafe takes everything like the pro he is. Again, it's filthy as hell, but your heart swells at that thought. He wants to make you feel good, he wants to please the two of you and he does so with an ease that is unique to Rafe.

After Topper comes, you let Rafe lay down on your bed and suck him off. "You're allowed to come whenever you want. It's your choice how long you get to have this," You go all in, mercilessly, and it does not even take two whole minutes to make him come.

"Noooo," he whines and pants through his orgasm while you swallow around him before you pull off. "Fuck, I wanted to enjoy this." His voice is so hoarse from all the face fucking you hardly understand him.