Recipient: Written for apolloandellipses in the tumblr teen wolf holiday exchange.
Pairing(s): Isaac/Boyd, Isaac/Erika, Isaac/Stiles, Isaac/Derek, Isaac/Jackson
Rating: NC-17
Length: 4,600
Genre(s)/Trope(s): Angst, PWP, Pack Feels
Warning(s): Sexual Exploitation, Dub/Noncon, Emotional Manipulation, Lots of Sex, Mentions of past Child Abuse, Bloodplay, Dominance
Prompt: Isaac
loves hugs, but he doesn't know how to get them and he doesn't know how
to feel about needing them in the first place. Angst. Happy ending?
Summary: Isaac offers himself to each of the pack in an attempt to be needed.
Notes: Thank you so much my dear Karolina. My amazing beta and listener of frustrated huffing.
People do strange things during sex.
You let them kiss you even though they don't really mean anything by it. You aren't their boyfriend or really a friend. They smile over nothing. They talk about their parents and secrets they've never shared. And they hug you. They pet your curls and kiss your cheeks and talk about how lovely their partner is even if you don't believe them.
You think sex is sort of amazing. It's this thing that, while it lasts, everyone is happy. Joyously happy, in fact. Happy enough to forget their woes. You help them forget about running the pack, the pressure of being the best, being pretty enough, taking care of everyone, being strong. They leave the sad at the feet of their lover. And you, their lover, can pick up the pieces and in exchange for the moment of serenity you can get what you need. A touch.
It's really simple and you could explain it if they asked. But they don't ask and you wonder if they know. You wonder if they hate you for it. Or maybe this is what they need so it makes your selfishness okay? You are just happy they let you. Life is good these days.
Today is Boyd. You made sure everyone watched movies in your bed last night. They piled on with limbs splayed over each other and laughter filled the room. Boyd is like you. He's lonely. He doesn't talk about it but you can tell in the way he turns his head into the sheets that he's happier surrounded by the pack's smell. It's something you share.
His body is beautiful, mostly free of the kind of scars that mark yours. You keep on most of your clothing and he never stops you. Your mouths meet and a few minutes are dedicated just to this. You find the muscles on top of his shoulder blades and cling. His skin is always warm, so much warmer than the rest of the pack. You and Erika competed for a spot next to him last night during movies. She won. She was smiling so it was okay. The kiss ends too soon.
You shouldn't be selfish. Boyd has needs and you have been learning how to satisfy him. He likes your mouth, so that's how you start. You lick a path down his chest and find he's showered this morning. The lingering of a Dove soap bar that was barely rinsed tangs against your tongue. When you reach his hips he growls. He can hear your heartbeat jump in fear so his hand pets into your curls. It's sweet. He didn't need to comfort you. You're used to being afraid. But it's sweet.
This part isn't pleasant. You don't really know how it's supposed to be. You watched those movies, with the girls with so much makeup that you can't tell who they are. They always smile and take the penises into their mouths like it's candy. You think sometimes that porn has the best actresses if they can make this look so wonderful. You smile around it and he scratches at the base of your skull. Maybe you should go into acting.
It doesn't taste good. You swallow because what else is there to do with it? He pulls you up and kisses you and you wish it wasn't filled with that taste. But it's okay. You power through it because the part you crave is coming. Boyd is the best about it. You don't even need to say anything. He just wraps his arms around your thin body and cuddles. You wait until his heart calms into a sleeping tempo before you take from him.
You nuzzle his neck and tangle your legs together. You pet your foot up over his calf and he bends his leg around yours. You are entwined. You feel perfect. Boyd is warm and making soft happy huffs in his sleep. You think maybe this is something like love.
The morning comes and you make sure you aren't there when he wakes. He leaves without calling you to come back. You cry sometimes. You are getting better at controlling when.
The first time was Erika. It was right after the bite and you felt like you could rule the world. She pushed you against the rock climbing wall and there should have been a huge bruise in your back from the knobby protrusions. Her hand pushed in your pants and she yanked your penis until it swelled. You didn't know what to do. You'd never kissed anyone and you didn't think this was really kissing. Kissing wasn't supposed to involve her fangs through your bottom lip.
She taught you how it is supposed to go. She took away all of your clothing with careless claws. You are naked and terrified as she pushed your fingers inside her wetness. It was strange and warm and damp and in the back of your mind you remember locker room conversations about Jackson fingering Lydia. That must be fingering. Erika screamed and gushed over your hand.
She pulled and tugged at you until it happened like it did sometimes when you dream. White shot over her hand and she licked it off her fingers. She smelt like you now and that was sort of like being real friends. You like Erika even if she scared you, even if your back hurt from the knobs.
She held your hand and pulled you down the abandoned halls of the school. She was beautiful and terrifying and she made you laugh. She also hugged you tight against her and told you 'any time, sexy.' You take her up on it. She taught you how to get what you wanted and all it took was a few strange touches.
Stiles is the hardest to get his needs met with. He comes with a task. He's doing some new spell. He says it's to protect them and he needs an extra pair of hands. Apparently 'asshole McStalker' isn't allowed to help. So that leaves you. The boxes aren't heavy but it is a long walk into the woods.
There is some drawing and chanting and general Stiles jabbering mixed with what is probably Latin? You're bored and end up leaning against a tree. Finally Stiles gets this strange smell. Only Stiles has ever smelt this way. And only when he's working his magic. Stiles' fists pump in the air as the magic glows in it's circle. The human's eyes flash and now you know why Stiles wanted you to help.
He always got like this when he did something right.
"Now, now, now. Isaac, hurry. Pants off. Why do you ever wear pants?" Stiles has supplies. He smears the white cream over your asshole as you brace your hands on the tree.
The cream numbs the outside and Stiles pushes more and more inside until it's dripping down your leg.
"That enough? Are you good? God, it looks good. You look good. Can I get in yet? I would love to be all the way in you right now. I did that badass spell. It was so, so cool. Derek can't kick me out now! I'm pack. Super useful pack too."
You wiggle back against him to answer the question he forgot. Then he's inside you. It's strange to feel. Stiles is longer than expected and his thrusts are fueled by adrenaline and longing. You smile when he cries out Derek's name into your shoulder blades. You know they'll give in to eachother eventually. You'll make sure of it.
This is the worst. Stiles pulls away, taking the scent that could have spread on your skin with him in a condom. He ties it off and you aren't even allowed to smell like Stiles is your friend. The hyperactive boy starts cleaning up his witchcraft and you pull up your pants feeling empty. You want to ask for your needs.
You don't say a word.
Sometimes he doesn't notice and you feel empty until you have convince one of the pack to curl behind you during movie night. This isn't one of those times.
He pulls up to the renovated Hale house where you and the pack live. He pets your cheek and you don't mean to flinch. You thought he was done with you. Stiles sighs and opens his arms.
"You don't need to." You dad was right calling you a coward.
"I want to. Come on, Curly. This is a One Time Only Highly Quality Stiles Hug. It's going fast so you better come and get it." Stiles smile is clever.
You launch yourself across his seat and press your nose behind his ear. You breathe in the mixing scents. This is worth it. You don't stay too long. Don't be selfish, Isaac. You think you're pretty selfish to make him notice, but you can deal with not being a good person for these moments.
Erika whistles at you when you walk in and Derek growls.
Derek comes to you the same night as Stiles. You knew he would. He doesn't do anything at first. He sits in your room, watching you. You keep your eyes on the ground and wait him out. You're better than any of the other betas at submitting to Derek. It feels natural. You thank your dad for teaching you how to obey.
It takes time. Almost an hour of only hearing your heartbeats pass before he stands.
You flinch, you can't help thinking he will hurt you for taking Stiles' offer. He grabs you by your hair and the fear pounds in you chest. Your hands come up to protect your face even though you can heal. You spent too long learning this to stop it now.
He throws you on the bed, his body immediately covering you. Your throat is given over and the Alpha's teeth lock around it. He doesn't break your skin. But he could. He could rip you open. He's merciful and lets you live.
You scramble to get on all fours. He rips your pants off and pushes his tongue against your wide abused ring of red. He's trying to taste Stiles. He lets out an snarls and you don't know if it's good or bad that Stiles refused to spill inside you.
Derek's claws bite into your hips and make you whimper. You think he likes it. Dad used to like it when you were in pain. It's how you knew you did wrong. You suffered. You knew what Stiles was going to want. You should have left the human alone. As Derek's length slams inside, you think of Stiles' 'One Time Only Highly Quality Stiles Hug' and know it's worth it.
Derek is never slow. He's never gentle and you understands. Derek isn't supposed to be gentle. The betas would never learn if he was gentle. He punishes your body. If you were human the gashes would need stitches and leave scars. Your hole would be broken and ripped. Bruises would paint your body and you'd have to make up an excuse to get out of changing in the locker room. Now however they will heal before noon tomorrow. It takes longer because Derek is Alpha.
Derek roars. He doesn't talk during. You think it's appropriate, how Stiles and Derek are so opposite of lovers. They will be good together. You have a plan and you've been working on Derek. Maybe tonight won't be so bad.
Derek punishes you. The base of his cock expands and you cry freely. The tears fall and he braces both hands on your ass.
"No. Please. No. Please, Derek. Please, don't." You are pathetic in your whimpering. He doesn't listen and you know how angry he is.
The knot rips out of your ass and you howl as your nails rip into the carpet. He cums in a fountain away from your body. It pumps and pumps and he denies you any drop. You mewl. Pathetic.
He never leaves you there. You wish he would. If he left you could crawl into the puddle and curl up in the scent of your alpha. No, instead he stands, waiting for his knot to deflate. You tremble with a ripped open hole that is repairing itself as he watches. You shake. It's worse after the punishment. It's so much worse to try to stay quiet and good after you know how angry they are.
Derek touches you. It's brief but he pets your spine. Forgiven. He's forgiven you. You slump and all your muscles give out.
Derek surprised you the first time he touched you like this. Now it's normal. He scoops you into his arms and lays your body on the bed. He curls around you, getting as much of your longer body in his arms as he can. He licks your neck and you love it. You love your Alpha, he never needed you to ask. It's almost like he knew what you needed and wanted to give it to you.
"What was the idiot doing?" His voice is gruff, but you know this tone. It's reserved for talking about Stiles.
"Making a spell to protect the pack. He did really well at it." He can feel the tiny twitch of Derek's smile.
"Good."
"I think... I think he could use you telling him that. He seemed angry at you."
"Maybe." Derek licks behind your ear and ends the conversation.
You think this is definitely progress and fall asleep happy.
Lydia and Jackson are fighting. They scream in the car. She huffs on the path up to the pack house. He starts to yell again inside the house. You hate when they fight. They are so angry and you watch Lydia get right into Jackson's face and you wonder when he is going to snap and hit her. You don't want her hit. You don't want anyone being hit. You cower against a wall. Pathetic.
Finally she turns on her heel right after he gets dismissive. She is on the phone and as she slams the door to Scott's usually abandoned room close, you hear Allison pick up. She has someone to talk to. You just need to handle Jackson.
"Fucking women. Right?" Jackson looks to you for solidarity and you smile and nod. You figure that's what he wanted when he nods back.
"Let's get out of this place. Too much estrogen here." You follow no matter how your stomach sinks.
His fancy car drives for what is probably a half hour. Jackson blasts the radio the whole way. He has the top down and your curls are going to be an impossible tangle. It's alright. Derek won't touch you for another week. There's time to get some heavy conditioner.
Jackson pulls off in the woods. He grabs a lacrosse bag out of the back seat and hands you a stick. You jog into the woods a little distance away. You wish he wouldn't take a drink out of the bottle he kept in his car. It makes you nervous. The first ball is easy to catch. It goes back and forth between you and you can see Jackson's tense shoulders starting to calm.
"I hate this shitty little town sometimes. I want to just get out of here. Go somewhere where no one knows me. Where no one demands shit of me. No expectations just let myself be whoever I really am." Jackson crouches down by the sports bag and you know it's alcohol before you see the pale brown liquid.
You don't want him to drink. It only makes him feel worse. It only makes him meaner. Like your father. You don't want to think about your father. About the way his lips formed around the bottle. Don't think about how he seemed so calm right before he blew up. Don't think about how bad you were to deserve the pain, to deserve the screaming, to deserve the freezer.
You don't realize you're shaking until Jackson's hand stops it. He kisses you with rum-lips and you melt against him. He's not your father. Jackson kisses instead of hits. At least today. Somedays he lashed out, usually against trees or his stick or himself. But no, today was kisses. Today was petting of Jackson's chest and the press of his mouth on your neck.
It doesn't take long before your back is against a tree and your skin is being abraded against the bark. It's okay though because this is from a happy sort of pain and that's better than angry pain. you open yourself for the roll of Jackson's hips and listens as the boy cries out against your skin.
Jackson doesn't move away and you remember why these moments are so comforting. Jackson's an angry person, he smiles as he insults and sometimes he reminds you so much of dad that you hide around corners when he is in his moods. Right now Jackson is sort of like your father before he got back into the drink. Before mom left. When he used to pet your curls and speak to you in a gentle voice.
"Good boy." Jackson echoes your memory. You cuddle into Jackson's chest and smile, you beam and you know Jackson is smiling too.
He lets you hold him until the night air gets cold and the dew of morning starts to settle on your limbs. He finally has to move and the mask of the perfect popular boy is back on his face. You don't mind. You know what is underneath. He makes you promise not to tell and you know you never will.
He drives you back and lets you brush your fingers over his hand before leaving the car. It was a good night.
The pack gathers close, everyone is celebrating the stench of sex coming off Derek and Stiles. The hyperactive boy prods at the Alpha's cheeks and Derek gives a smile, like one of the private ones Derek allowed you to glimpse. They belong to Stiles now. You were only keeping them safe until Stiles could come and take Derek. Until Derek would take Stiles. Until they left you alone.
You make popcorn in the other room. You can see the whole pack from the hole in the wall of the kitchen. Erika's toes are in Boyd's lap and you can smell the low level arousal common to the couple. They are happy together. Scott's head is pillowed on Allison's thighs as they exchange grins and glance toward Stiles and Derek. Jackson and Lydia have made up and he's whispering into her ear something that makes her grin like an imp. Everyone in the pack has their pair, their mate. You read a book about it once, mates are special. They bind together and complete each other like no one else could. And now the pack is all mated. And they are happy. And you are alone.
You hand trembles before the bowl clatters to the floor. You messed up. You fucked up again. You are pathetic. What use are you now? They aren't going to want you now. They don't need you. No one is going to want your body when they have a mate. If they don't want that then who is going to want to hold someone manipulative like you. Just wait until they talk tonight. They'll make promises, to be loyal, to be true to each other. Derek might just rip your throat open to be sure you can't touch Stiles again. You curl against the counter, praying that he'll be quick about it. You don't want Derek to have to try more than once.
You should leave. You should run. You should take the burden of having to figure out what to do with you off their shoulders. They were good to you. A voice... asking about what was taking you so long. It's probably Erika, but the blood pounding in your ears won't let you focus. You need to run away.
They call after you but it can't block out your father's voice in the back of your head. You run, shifting in the panic, needing to go faster, needing to get further. You are nothing to them now. Not useful, not wanted, not worthy. When your feet finally stop you know where you are. It has a sign with some real estate agent's fake smiling face stuck in the front yard. You rip it up from the ground and shred it in your claws.
The smell is the same, the dishes are where you left them, scattered in pieces on the floor. You were supposed to clean. It was a really easy punishment. You should have paid more attention in class. You should have gotten better grades. He would have been happy then. But you are just such a failure.
It cuts your fingers as you pick it off the ground piece by piece. They heal and you wish they wouldn't. Each move is familiar. Dad would be sleeping off his rage in his bedroom and you would be careful not to make too much noise. You wash every dish, not risking running the dishwasher. He would hear you. You place everything away and begin sweeping the floor. He said he wanted it shining clean so you pull out the mop.
It shines but you know it's not enough. You hurt people. Stiles and Derek probably would have been together long ago if you hadn't taken their attention. You forced them into touching you. Selfish. So selfish. You knew they would never just hold you, so you manipulated them. They all must hate you.
Your feet walk, but you don't know where until you are staring down at the freezer. You've been pathetic, weak, selfish... You deserve this. You climb into the tiny white space. It's silent inside. No one to disappoint, no one to hurt. You should just stay here.
There are marks on the pale walls. You never saw them before the change. You trace one of them with your finger. You had tried so hard to get out, but why? You had always deserved this. Slowly, the darkness comes over you and you fall into sleep in the silence.
It burns. The light is always dim in the basement, but after the hours or days in the freezer you can't tell. It seems like daylight.
"Dammit, Isaac. What the hell are you doing here?" Jackson blows up at you and you realize he's not the one holding you.
Boyd's the one who pulled you out and his warm hands are still hovering near your back as if he'd be ready to catch you. But why would he bother?
"I had to leave. I'm sorry I dropped the popcorn everywhere. I'll clean it..."
"Who said anything about the popcorn?" Scott's puppy eyes looked so distressed. You didn't mean to upset him.
"No one cares about the popcorn, Isaac. We got like 2 crates of it from Costco." Erika rolled her eyes. "Why'd you run away?"
"Um..."
"Was it the movie? I told him not to put on a Tarantino flick. It's depressing and freaky as hell." Stiles nudged at Derek's side accusingly. The alpha just rolled his eyes.
"No, whatever you wanted to watch is fine." You curl away from the new couple. "Please, don't fight."
"Like anyone can stop that. It's practically what their affair is made of." Lydia snorts at the comment. Stiles sticks out his tongue at her. You think they look happy. So this all makes no sense.
"Did... I'm sorry I don't know what I did wrong. I'll fix it." You don't like begging, but they won't tell you. How are you supposed to change if you don't know what you did? "I was just trying to make everyone happy. I'm sorry I just wanted to be held. I won't try it again. I... I'm sorry I clogged the toilet on Tuesday. I'm sorry I ate the last of the coco puffs." You scramble to remember more sins. "I'm sorry I slept with Stiles. I thought you had forgiven me, Alpha. Lydia, please don't blame Jackson, I made him do it. He loves you even if he can't say it. Erika, Boyd's yours and I promise I never to ask him to hug me again. I... Please... I'm sorry!"
"Shut up." Derek barks and you fall immediately to your knees, tears falling. "We know who you slept with, we can smell it."
You nod, trying to make yourself smaller.
"No one is mad about anything." Derek crouches in front of you and takes your chin in hand.
You have to look into his eyes. You search for anger. There's none. Stiles kneels down on your side. From behind, arms wrap around your chest. Boyd's arms are always the best. A thinner pale pair of arms, Stiles', joins them.
"I touched him first!" Erika joins in with a triumphant shout.
The pile laughs and the rest join in, even Jackson. Their scents are mingling with yours. It was like they were your friends again. Like they loved you. Like you belonged.
"S.. so...I can stay? Even if I don't sleep with anyone?" You want to make sure.
"Not unless you want to." Boyd says right into your ears and you wonder why he sounds sad.
They hug you a lot these days. Randomly as you move from room to room.
Jackson does it when he's upset. He gets this look that you know he's grinding his teeth. He grabs a lacrosse stick and plays with you some. Then he grabs you around the shoulders and holds tight. You pet down his back and he calms.
Derek comes to you when you feel like running. When you did something that makes you long for the freezer. The pack destroyed it themselves when they bought up your father's house. It's leveled to the ground and you still don't know how you feel about it. Derek makes you expose your throat and shoves you hard to the ground. He makes you stay there until you give yourself over and your heartbeat slows. He kisses you next and you know he forgives you for thinking about running again.
Stiles will grab you and pull you down hallways. He has something to be excited over, a spell or research or a piece of the house he renovated. He lets you share in his grins and he always gives you Highly Quality Stiles Hug.
Erika takes you shopping. You terrorize the town together, grinning and laughing and sharing little adrenaline filled kisses. She talks a lot about before the change, and you talk little. She tells you about something called asexual and you think it sort of fits you. She hold your hand and lets you know that she and Boyd have an arrangement.
They show you what it is. Erika delivers you into Boyd's arms and crawls into bed on the other side. They kiss you and mean it. You share his warm arms and none of you are lonely.
The house smells like your pack.
You think pack is sort of amazing. It's this thing that, while it lasts, everyone is happy. Joyously happy, in fact. Happy enough to forget their woes. They help you forget about being not good enough, being pathetic, being a burden, about always having to prove your worth, and about your father's voice in your head. They leave the sad at the feet of their pack. And they, your pack, can pick up your scattered pieces and in exchange for the moment of serenity you can all get what you need. A family.