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sundrop-writes · 2 months ago

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Why Am I The One?

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

I’ll hold you like I used to - you know that I am home.

So darling if you love me... would you let me know?

Or go on, go on, go on - if you were thinking that the worst is yet to come.

Why am I the one always packing up my stuff?

For once, for once, for once, I get the feeling that I’m right where I belong.

Why Am I The One always packing up my stuff?

Summary:

Isaac loves you. He loves you more than anything else in the world - which is exactly why he has stayed away from you for so long.

But when Derek kicks him out onto the street in the pouring rain with absolutely no warning and no reasoning as to why, Isaac has nowhere else to go. He could claim that he sought you out because you're close by, because he knows that you won't turn him away in his time of need - but deep down, it's because he misses you. And staying away from you for so long is the hardest, stupidest thing he has ever done.

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Smut and Emotional Angst. Set during Season 3, Episode 4.

Word Count: 15,200

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic is equal parts smut and emotional angst/plot; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this fic DOES use Y/N; there is no description of the reader's race but the reader is implied to be plus-sized (I can't help myself lmao); the reader is completely human (doesn't have any supernatural powers); this is based on the part in 3x04 where Derek kicks Issac out of the apartment (without telling him that it's to protect him) and leaves Isaac with no place to go - and in this version, instead of going to Scott, he goes to the reader's place (and in this case, she is his ex-girlfriend); mentions of the reader's mother being killed by 'a monster' (Peter Hale in his Alpha form); mentions of the abuse Isaac experienced from his father (non-detailed); Isaac being emotionally constipated/being unwilling to accept help/love/affection as a trauma response because of the abuse he experienced; Isaac emotionally bashing himself due to his trauma; cheating - Isaac 'cheated' on the reader with Erica and there is a depiction of that (them kissing, and later in the fic it mentions and glosses over some of their sexual experiences together) (Erica x Isaac is very much a background element); light Erica bashing from the reader - but a lot of this is written from Isaac's perspective, who is favourable to Erica, so I think it balances out (and I didn't want the narrative to pit the girls against each other because I hate that); Isaac verbally insults the reader during an argument and shoves her (not hard enough to harm or injure her, just to get her out of his personal space); Isaac wears the reader's clothes - so this implies that she is a size where she can comfortably share her pajamas and loungewear with him (I didn't mention if those clothes would be too big on him, just that he does fit into them); some Derek bashing - just because of the optics of what happened to Isaac and the reader not knowing Derek or his motives; mentions of Erica's canon death; for the smut - this is not the first time Isaac and the reader have had sex with each other (this is reunion sex for them); Isaac is more dominant and the reader is more submissive; there is lots of verbal praise (from Isaac toward the reader); slight mentions of the reader feeling insecure about her weight (but this is chased away by Isaac's verbal praise and it's not a prominent theme); protected sex (for once in one of my fics) - they use a condom; penis in vagina sex; slightly dubious consent - the reader is reminded of Isaac's cheating during sex and moves to end it, and Isaac continues (but it's very messy and emotional and the physical pleasure makes the reader want to continue and drowns out any doubts) (it is a very 'humans are not perfect, we are messy creatures' situation); lots of dirty talk - Isaac doesn't miss the opportunity to wind reader up with his dirty mouth; the reader slaps Isaac while they are having sex - not as a kink, but because she is upset at him; the sex goes from very rough to sweet love making (once they 'make up' with each other); orgasm denial (once - toward the reader); Isaac uses his strength to pin the reader down and to hold her arms down (not really strength kink, and I don't know if I would consider it bondage? idk); I think that is all.

A/N: We all know I'm in love with Isaac. His wooby pull attracted me like earth's gravitational pull, and Derek kicking him out into the rain so suddenly is literally the perfect recipe for a fic - the sadness, the emotions, and Isaac wearing a soaking wet white shirt like a whore. How could I not write a fic about this moment? Also, you guys know that I have been vibing with Exes to Lovers a lot lately - I just fucking love the concept of 'right person, wrong time' - it eats so hard. So this fic was a no brainer to me. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This fic is named after a song by Fun of the same name, and I actually found out that the song was written about the singer's experiences in foster care - having to constantly move from place to place and and feeling like he never had a true sense of 'home' because of it. And I love how well it suits Isaac's experiences - the fact that just when he started to establish a new sense of 'home' and family with Boyd and Erica, they were torn away from him. So I really wanted to use it for this fic.

...

It was a lonely night.

But unfortunately, you had been experiencing a lot of those lately.

Since the start of the school year, most of your ‘friends’ had been ghosting you. And that was putting it kindly. It seemed like everyone else was in some group, in on something else, always busy with something more important and not telling you why.

You couldn’t think of anything you had said or done to offend them. And you knew that sometimes, people did just get busy, or drift apart. But you got the distinct vibe that they had been avoiding you intentionally for one reason or another - and you hated not knowing why.

Sure, life had been weird for you since some giant prowling beast had murdered your mother, leaving your entire life in limbo. Since you had been locked in the school at night and discovered that one of your best friends from childhood, Scott, had the ability to turn into a fucking werewolf. But you were a bit more at ease when he used that ability to save your life from said giant prowling beast.

You knew Scott would never hurt you. Which was why, only a few short weeks later, you used the much more human ability of an improvised hairspray flamethrower to save his life in return.

But after you had witnessed that terrifying, burly beast lit on fire, forcing it to turn human - and then have its throat slashed by someone you later came to know as Derek Hale, Scott assured you that everything was ‘over’. Strangely enough, you trusted his words. And you actually expected your life to go back to some sense of normalcy after that night.

Scott told you that he had mastered the ability to control himself on a full moon, and though there were others in town like him (no matter how much you nagged him, he wouldn’t tell you who), you didn’t have to worry about anyone else in your family being attacked. Not as long as he was around, he had assured you.

Well, you didn’t have to worry about losing the little family that you had left.

With your mother gone and your father never in your life in the first place, you now lived with your sister in a small apartment downtown. She was attending the local college and working part time as a bartender and you were trying to finish up your education at Beacon Hills, despite the growing body count - which Scott still refused to tell you about. Claimed he didn’t know anything about, but you could sense the lies coming off him because you had known him for so long.

You had a nagging feeling that him and Stiles knew far more about the recent wave of murders than they were letting on. And it had a whole lot to do with the reason why they were dodging all of your calls, texts, and any efforts that you made to hang out with them. Even Allison and Lydia weren’t returning your messages, and it was downright bothering you.

So you were spending another Friday night at home by yourself while your sister went out on a date, as lonely as you had ever been and unable to do anything about it. But still, you were trying your hardest to make the best of it - getting ready to curl up on the couch to watch Netflix in your pajamas. All your homework was done purely out of boredom, and you had a pile of junk food ready to go, a few horror movies queued up when-

A knock on the door. Of course.

It was either the creepy guy from down the hall who had ‘forgotten’ his key again, or your sister, who had forgotten one of several potential things.

You put your bowl of chips aside, paused on the intro screen of the movie and heaved a sigh as you shrugged off your cozy throw blanket and shoved on your slippers to cross the cold floor toward the door.

“Let me guess, you forgot your phone again?” You stated this loud enough for your sister to hear you through the door as you unhooked the safety chain and opened it, expecting her to come barreling in complaining about her poor memory.

You found yourself entirely shaken with shock to discover that it wasn’t at all who you were expecting.

“Isaac.” You breathed out the name in a gentle gasp, entirely in disbelief of him standing there.

He was soaking wet from the rain, his white tee shirt sticking to his body in a way that shouldn’t have been as sinful and eye-catching as it was - his back slouched and his eyes low to the ground, indicating how truly shameful he was to be here at your doorstep, needing your help. He was shivering slightly all over, potent enough to be seen, clearly freezing from the cold water that had penetrated through his clothes and soaked him to the bone.

He had walked through the pouring rain to get here - without a coat.

And he was carrying a large duffle bag?

Come to think of it, you had no clue where he had been staying since his father had died. But he had turned eighteen shortly before it happened (which was why they had been intent to charge him with murder when they thought he was responsible) - so he wouldn’t be a ward of the state just because he was an orphan. He had to be responsible for himself. Even if he wasn’t ready for that responsibility.

He had been so damn intent on dodging your calls and ignoring you in person, so it’s not like he was letting you offer your help anyway. A large part of the reason that you were so surprised to see him here now.

“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t help but to ask, hating the bitterness that popped up in your voice, entirely against your will.

You weren’t even sure if you were happy to see him. Not with the way things ended between the two of you. With the fact that he hadn’t even made an effort to apologize.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you were the only person I could think of-” His voice was curdled and pathetic, edging on tears and shaking from how cold he was.

“Of course.” You scoffed, a nearly automated response filled with resentment tapering over from months ago.

You hated that he came to you in a time of crisis, something so natural to him, just like he used to. But he couldn’t lean on you in comfort, he couldn’t take the good with the bad. Isaac could never tolerate goodness - that was something you had learned quickly with him.

But you knew that had to come with the territory - loving someone so broken and slipping on their sharp edges. You were bound to cut yourself every now and again. Isaac left you with more cuts than you could count, and you kept on coming back for more - because you loved him more than his bitterness. You loved him more than his thorns, more than the fight he put up when you tried to love him.

Isaac frowned and shook his head, turning to leave again, and your chest seized up with fear and pain. Instinctively, you reached out for him, just like you had so many times before, and you caught him by one of his wrists, digging your fingers in. His skin was freezing and it made you realize even more that he needed you. It was cold outside and he needed you for warmth, for shelter, and so much more that he couldn’t even begin to ask for.

“Isaac-” You choked out.

The touch caused him to look up into your eyes, and it was a deadly attack of icy blue through wet lashes - wet from the rain or from his tears, you couldn’t be sure. He looked every bit a kicked puppy, and you knew that you couldn’t turn him away. You couldn’t bring yourself to.

“I’m sorry.” You pressed, trying to make sure that he truly heard it and knew that you meant it. “Please don’t go. You should come in - you need to get warmed up. Isaac, please don’t think that I don’t care about you anymore. Please don’t think that I would turn you away,”

That was how things always went with him. You begging him to take the most basic of care and kindness, you begging him to open up and receive everything you had to offer him. You begging him to let himself be loved.

‘A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.’

It was something you had read once and could never get it out of your head every single time Isaac did this - every single time he ran from you trying to be kind to him. His father had ruined him in so many deeper ways than the marks left on his skin.

“You shouldn’t.” He said - responding to your words carefully, quietly.

But ultimately, he flexed to your touch and stepped inside, letting you close the door behind him, now dripping onto the welcome mat. He placed his bag down by his feet as you puzzled at his words. The confused look on your face caused him to further explain.

“You shouldn’t care about me anymore.”

You let out a sigh, retreating to the couch to grab the blanket you had just been covered up in. With your back turned to him, you used this as a quiet moment to squeak out a vulnerability, simply because you didn’t have to see his face when you said it.

“Look, Isaac, despite what happened - I still do.”

You whispered, unsure if he would hear you. You had no idea that with his enhanced werewolf hearing, he heard every single word crystal clear, including the overly emotional crack in your voice.

“No matter what happens… I don’t think that I’ll ever stop caring about you.”

Isaac held his breath at this.

Dammit.

…

You and Isaac had dated for two years before it all happened.

Two years ignorant ‘bliss’ before a giant monster - well, two different giant monsters actually - came barreling through town and supremely fucked up both of your lives. The one that killed your mother and the one that killed his father.

Before that, the two of you were happy together. Isaac’s life with his father was not exactly blissful. Far from it. But he escaped from the horrors of it when he was with you. He was planning a life after graduation when he could get away with you, be free of his father, and the two of you could live a happy, normal life together.

You were the love of Isaac’s life. He never loved anyone else like he loved you.

He would deny it - but there was no past tense on that. You are overwhelming still the love of Isaac’s life. The two of you had your first kiss together, you lost your virginities to each other, you were the first person that he ever said the big L to. You made him so impossibly happy.

You were the only person in the world who had helped him start on the impossible journey of healing from even a small portion of what his father had put him through. In a lifetime when he had felt abandoned, unloved, useless, abused - you made him feel loved. You made him feel like he was worth something as long as he was loving you.

When Derek Hale promised him a solution to all of his problems, Isaac didn’t believe it. Derek promised him freedom, power, family - things he never even dreamed of having. The only problem? In this new family, he couldn’t have you. Having all of this new power would put you at risk. There were new dangers - hunters, people who would try to hurt you. With this new power, Isaac might even hurt you himself, even if unintentionally.

Isaac wasn’t entirely sure why he agreed to it. Maybe because Derek made it sound so appealing. Maybe because he thought it was inevitable, just a matter of time before you found out that he was a poison seed and you stopped loving him, and he thought that he needed a backup plan for when that happened. Isaac thought he needed to stand on his own two legs without you. He didn’t need something as fading and immeasurable as love - he needed power. And Derek could give that to him.

So he accepted Derek’s Bite - and he transcended into something bigger, badder, and better. Something that would never be loved by you again.

The only problem was: you didn’t know that yet.

His father was dead, he had found a new pack - there was just one last severance from his old life that needed to be made. So he did it as cleanly as he could.

He broke your heart because it was something that needed to be done.

…

‘Meet me in the boys locker room at 4:45.’

It was a note in Issac’s handwriting - it had been slipped into your locker, clearly meant for some late afternoon rendezvous. At the very least, you were filled with joy at the prospect of getting to talk to your boyfriend alone.

He had been acting so strange lately. Which was more than understandable, considering that his father had been murdered and he had been arrested for it. You hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him since you had exonerated him with your sworn testimony that he had been at your place on the night of the murder. (And of course, the cops hadn’t believed you until you had tracked down the take-out delivery guy who had also sworn that he had seen Isaac in your apartment when dropping off food that night.)

You hadn’t gotten to spend any quality time with Isaac since then, so this felt like a breath of fresh air. You knew that lacrosse practice ended at 3:30, so the locker room would be empty - you wondered if Isaac just wanted to talk, wanted to walk you home, or something else entirely…

Your stomach was bubbling with butterflies as you held the note in your hands and you rounded the corner into the locker room, excited to greet Isaac with a hug and feel his arms around you for the first time in far too long.

You were surprised when you heard the sound of kissing.

You wondered if you had walked in on someone else’s afternoon rendezvous by mistake - if the locker room was otherwise occupied and Isaac knew it too. Perhaps he had sent you a text to meet him somewhere else. Before you could pull out your phone to check, your eyes glanced up through the metal mesh and of the cubbies, and you caught a glimpse of absolutely unmistakable pale skin and dirty blond hair.

A rough, muscled back with bright red scratch marks marring his skin.

“Isaac?!” You gasped, utterly shocked.

You charged further into the room, no longer caring if you were intruding on someone’s privacy - you needed to know. If this was just a terrible case of mistaken identity, then you would be embarrassed and profusely apologize.

Your heart dropped, becoming a cold rock in your stomach when surely enough, it was your boyfriend standing there - shirtless, his pants undone, his face and chest smudged with red lipstick while Erica Reyes was pinned up against one of the lockers. She was smugly grinning at you, wearing nothing but jeans and a bra, her hair a complete mess.

“Barge in, much?” Erica said, sounding more like a gloat than an accusation of your rudeness.

You didn’t have the energy to pay her any mind.

“Isaac, what the hell?” You screamed at him, sounding too pathetic to be angry, your voice already gripped by tears.

“Can you give us a minute?” He said this to Erica, seeming far too casual. She simply shrugged, picking up her discarded shirt, jacket, and heels before she turned to leave.

You clenched a shaking fist and simply gave her a glare. You knew that she had been on some kind of chaos streak lately, and Allison had mentioned that she had threatened to ‘steal’ Scott - something that more than left a sour taste in your mouth about a girl that you previously had a better opinion of. You didn’t think that she was cruel enough to actually go through with something like this. You used to think of her as a nice girl.

But the bulk of your anger was most definitely directed at your piece of shit, cheating boyfriend.

Isaac wiped the edge of his mouth with the back of his hand, not even getting off a small portion of the lipstick that was wildly smeared around his face. Then he moved to zip up his pants. You continued to gape at him in shock, a harsh, deep pain blooming in your chest as you waited for him to say something.

“Isaac, tell me this is a joke-” You choked out, looking for some anchor to hold onto, some explanation.

“A joke?” Isaac smiled, all teeth, the expression in his eyes downright dead. You found him impossible to read in those moments. “Y/N, the only joke here has been our relationship.”

“You - you gave me a note.” You said, holding up the small slip of paper - the one that previously had you so giddy with joy at the prospect of spending time with him. “You told me to meet you here, I thought-”

‘I thought you wanted to spend time with me. I thought you loved me.’

The words died off in your throat, clenching in on itself as the harsh waves of truth overtook you.

If he wanted to break up with you, making out with Erica in front of you, putting on some show - it was one nasty way to do it.

“Did I?” He asked, his tone sounding utterly sarcastic and mean, faking dumb in the absolutely worst way as he snatched the paper from you and pretended to look it over. “I guess I must have forgotten.” He shrugged. “When Erica came in here looking for me, I forgot all about you. Having her mouth all over me-”

“Stop it.” You barked, cutting him off.

Why was he being so cruel? Was he trying to make you angry on purpose? Why was he lying about forgetting that he had invited you here?

Obviously he wanted you to see him kissing Erica - why was he lying about it now?

“Why are you doing this?” You demanded, tears freely flowing down your face.

Isaac’s eyes drifted to your cheeks, his wicked smirk flexing into a frown of his own - only for a second, a deep sadness penetrating through the mask he had carefully crafted. What the hell did he have to be upset about? He crossed his arms over his still shirtless chest, glaring at you.

“Why is it so hard for you to understand?” He said, fighting to keep his voice firm. “I’m done with you. We’re over. Okay? I-”

“If you wanted to break up with me, you could have just done it.” You told him, sadness gripping at your throat. “Why the hell are you being so mean? Do you want me to hate you or something?”

‘Yes.’ A voice chanted in his mind. ‘Yes - fucking hate me. Stay the hell away from me. Keep yourself safe.’

He shrugged, his eyes avoiding you suddenly.

When he went for too long without speaking, an obvious question popped up in your mind.

“How - how long has this been going on for?” You asked.

You wondered if that was why he had been acting so strange lately - dodging your calls, avoiding any attempt you made to see him. Had he been spending that time with Erica instead?

“What? Me and Erica?” He posed, gesturing vaguely toward the door where she had disappeared.

He grinned. You had unintentionally given him the perfect wedge - the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Something that would make sure you steered clear of him for a long time, something that would make sure you made absolutely no attempt to be ‘amicable’ or be friends with him after this break-up.

“A few weeks.” He shrugged. “Around the time I started getting bored with you.”

You let out a sob.

“You’re lying.” You wept. You wanted it to be a lie, but in those moments - you couldn’t have picked out the truth if someone smacked you with it.

“Did you ever consider that I never loved you in the first place?” Isaac posed, sounding oddly menacing and steady in his declaration. “That you were just a placeholder for me until I found something better?”

“No, that’s not true.” You cried, your voice becoming more wet with tears by the second. “Isaac, why are you lying? Is something wrong? Please-”

“You’re what’s wrong!” He argued, raising his tone, hoping to piss you off, make you flee. “You’re just a… a dumb girl, okay? You’re not the only one who wants me, there are dozens more like you! I don’t need you now, and I never did.”

You were used to pushing back with him. Pushing to get what you wanted. With the intense emotional chaos, you weren’t sure what else to do.

“Please, just tell me-”

You kept pushing, trying to get close to him - the moment your soothing hands crept into his space, he panicked and shoved you back, nearly knocking you clean off your feet with a strength he hadn’t yet learned how to control. The rush of terror and shock on your face was all he needed to remember why he was doing this - why it was important.

“We’re done here.” He told you, entirely cold. “I never loved you, I just used you, and-” He hesitated before he said the next part, hating that it had to be done. “I hope you find someone who deserves an ugly whore like you.”

It didn’t feel like the truth - but it still cut you like a knife.

It made you more determined to figure out why he was lying. But in those moments, you had absolutely no fight left in you. You couldn’t stand there and pry, and pry, and pry in order to figure it out. So, against your better judgment, with nothing else left to do - he got his wish.

You fled, tears ripe in your eyes.

And from there on out, any attempts you made to talk to Scott, Stiles, or Lydia about the incident were successfully dodged, and when Allison’s mother died, you didn’t feel right putting the weight of your shitty break-up on top of her problems. So eventually - you just gave up on finding out about the truth. And you settled on trying to become friends with Issac - which he also dodged.

And ultimately - you found yourself so achingly alone.

…

Eventually, you had let it go.

You chalked everything - all of Isaac’s weird behavior, his avoidance of you - up to the fact that he had been cheating on you. You hated that your first love had done something like that to you. It was only made worse by the fact that you didn’t have any of your friends to lean on after you found out about it, but you moved on. You ended up throwing yourself into your school work to try and distract yourself from all the intense emotions, so now your grades were soaring and you were an A student, so at least one good thing came out of the mess.

You tried not to focus on the bad memories now that Isaac was in front of you, clearly wounded and fleeing from something. Even if it was just as a friend, he needed your help now. You were still a human being, and you couldn’t deny him of that. He didn’t have any other family - he didn’t have anywhere else to go. So you grabbed the blanket - a large, fuzzy one that you had been using, and brought it across the room toward him.

Then, as you took in the sight of his soaking wet clothes once again, his slightly purpling lips and the way he was shivering from the cold, you realized something.

“Take your clothes off.” You told him.

“What?” He gaped at you, clearly shocked by this demand.

“Come on, clothes off.” You repeated your words. “You’re never gonna get warm if you’re wearing soaking wet, freezing clothes.” He hesitated still, and you added on. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

It was true. Not only did the two of you lose your virginities to each other, but the two of you had a very active sex life during your two year long relationship. (It was one of the reasons why his cheating shocked you most. You thought that you had been more than enough for him.) You had to remind yourself not to think about that. You wouldn’t let yourself get angry at him. Not now. You had to be mature.

Isaac nodded, and then kicked off his shoes, which were wet enough for the soles to loudly squish. You weren’t sure if you should advert your eyes as he peeled off his white shirt, the wet fabric sticking to his skin in a way that seemed far too sexual for the moment. It felt too intimate, letting yourself stare at his soft glistening skin, but you almost couldn’t look away.

Sure, you had seen Isaac naked plenty of times before - but this Isaac felt entirely different than the one you were used to. He used to be more scrawny. He used to be much more on the leaner side, and now he was muscled, thick, glorious. You had no clue that taking up some god-like workout plan had been one of the things he’d done during the time since his father’s death, but fuck - he looked gorgeous.

You scorned yourself for staring while he worked open his pants, his fingers still shaking from the cold, driving home his vulnerability all the more, driving a tinge of shame into you. And oh god, the fabric of his gray boxers were wet, sticking to the distinct outline of his thick soft cock-

By the time he got his pants off and around his ankles, you didn’t wait to see if he would shed the underwear before you moved towards him, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, partially for modesty and partially to start warming him up.

“Better?” You asked, rubbing his shoulders through the fabric instinctively, hoping to get some blood circulating through his extremities.

“Yeah, better.” He easily agreed, his voice coming out less shaky, his lips shivering less now. “Thank you, Y/N. Genuinely. You didn’t have to do any of this for me. I know you don’t owe me anything after-”

He abruptly cut himself off, unable to make himself say the words, and you hated the clench in your chest as you thought about it. He was right, you didn’t owe him anything. Anybody else would have slammed the door in his face. Anybody else would have laughed at his misfortune. So why the hell were you doing this?

You still loved him.

That became all the more apparent to you as you stood there, close to him, holding the broadness of his shoulders under your hands, remembering what it was like to hug him, to be held by him, to kiss him every single day. Staring at his angelic face, having those sweet blue eyes gaze back at you, something in them still so sweet and affectionate towards you.

He still looked at you the way he used to. Maybe you were delusional. But you thought it was still there. The love he claimed he never had for you, still lingering there.

It grappled at something deep in your chest and pulled, tempting you to lean in and sink home, pressing yourself against his lips.

But no - you couldn’t.

You had to shake yourself back to reality. You had to remind yourself what he had done. He had hurt you, badly. You couldn’t let yourself be pulled in again by a stupid pretty face.

“I should put your clothes in the dryer.” You said suddenly, breaking a tense silence that had otherwise only been filled by the sound of rain pouring down outside.

That’s what you needed to do - go to the laundry room downstairs, get far away from him. You needed more than a few minutes to distance yourself and clear your head.

You rushed to get away from him, leaning down and picking up his soaking wet clothes, the fabric chilly against your hands.

“Don’t.” Isaac croaked out, barely above a whisper, surprising you entirely.

You both knew that he wasn’t protesting having dry clothes - he was stopping you from leaving. He was trying to chase the tension that you were desperate to get away from.

You felt betrayed.

In your mind, you were the only one truly at risk of getting hurt by this. You had no idea how deeply he had missed you over the months, how many times he had resisted the urge to rush back into your arms. How many nights he spent plagued by nightmares with horrid visions of your dead body - how real it all was to him.

“Isaac-” You tried to form a protest, but then you saw a flourish of movement out of the corner of your eye, and a flash of pale skin.

It was enough to shock you and catch your attention, and your head whipped around to see that Isaac had dropped the blanket entirely, letting it pool around his ankles. Clearly, he knew that you had been admiring his body before and he was trying to use that to his advantage now. He knew that he was a smooth, beautiful, muscled, Adonis-like figure and he was trying to lure you in with that visual appeal.

You were determined not to let it work.

“Isaac, you must be freezing, you-”

You were going to continue on - going to tell him about how he needed dry clothes and how you should attend to getting that done, and how he should put the blanket on and cover up while you were gone. But he cut off your words when he crossed the room toward you, gently cupping both sides of your face with his freezing hands.

It was an icy shock that caused you to drop his wet clothes onto the floor once again. You reached up in an attempt to tear his touch away, but instinct took over - the second your hands were on top of his, your body flexed with gentleness. You found yourself leaning in, covering his hands with your own, unconsciously trying to warm him yet again.

Caring for him was a muscle that had been well formed in your body, exercised often. It was difficult to ignore now.

“Then warm me up.” He choked out, tears dancing in his eyes as he stared at you so steadily, unwavering. “Warm me up, please.”

He begged you, clearly seeking more than a blanket, more than dry clothes, more than a warm bed. He was seeking the warmth that you had thrust onto him so many times that he had fought off before - your kindness. Your love. The thing rattling around inside of you that you shouldn’t even feel for him anymore.

“Please,” He choked out. “I haven’t felt warm in so long.”

The desperation curling in his voice was truly what got you - the gloss of sadness in his eyes, the way he looked so kicked and alone. It was something you had seen from him dozens of times before, when he had knocked on your bedroom window at three in the morning after having a bad night with his father - bruised, broken, looking for comfort that you would have to fight with him to accept.

Everything else flew out of your mind then. It was an instinct - to hold him. It was an instinct to grab him up in your arms and make a home for him there. Your heart so easily forgot about all the pain he had made for you, because you were so used to pushing pain aside for him in the name of comfort.

“Isaac,” You said his name gently again, this time reaching up and letting yourself give into the pull - your mouth drifting toward his and finally sealing into that deadly kiss.

You couldn’t contain the moan that spilled out of you the second that you felt the smoothness of his lips against yours for the first time in so long. You hated how he still felt so good - how he still felt like home.

His arms rushed to wrap around your torso in the most utterly possessive way - not just a hug, not just seeking comfort, affection, or warmth - but holding you in a way that said he had truly missed you. Holding you as tightly as he could, pressing your whole body against his, encasing himself around you as though trying to protect you from the world with his flesh alone. Your hands went to his hair, rabid and frantic as you tightly gripped onto the curly locks - holding him in place as you melted your mouth against his, your kisses quickly turning from smooth and sweet to downright frantic.

You never thought that you would have this back again, that you would have him back, and you couldn’t help but to enjoy it now. The press of his body against yours, so thick and muscled now, quickly warming up, so different but still so Isaac. The gentle whimpers he released into your mouth, something so familiar - his sweetness coming through, as much as you tried to deny it. Within moments, it unlocked an intense need within you. It made you realize how terribly long it had been since the last time you had cum.

If he was determined for you to make him warm, then you would get something out of it too. If you were going to make a stupid mistake, then you were going to make it right. (Or make it terribly wrong - you weren’t sure which it was yet.)

You pulled away from his lips and he let out a disappointed whine, and while you panted, out of breath against his chin, you began pushing him, shuffling back toward your bedroom, hoping he would get the hint and understand. Which he didn’t, his whole body numb and dumb with lust, still tightly holding onto you, almost fighting against your movements.

“Bed.” You huffed at him. “Bed, Isaac, go-”

He let out a grunt of understanding, but then he moved a hand to the back of your head, pulling you into another kiss. You dug your nails into his shoulders, about to push him away, but you unconsciously melted into the movement, letting out another moan. Between the two of you, the path to your bedroom was stumbling and messy, and took far longer than it needed to be - heated mouths tonguing against each other, neither of you actually looking as you got lost in the kisses, frantically pawing at each other.

When his hand found the hem of your cotton sleep shirt, part of you blinked in protest, slightly hesitant. But still, you found yourself pulling away from his lips for a single moment and then the item was gone, shed and ditched on the floor. This revealed you completely to him, braless.

Of course, he had seen you naked before too. Plenty of times. But still, you felt a stitch of regret that you hadn’t used the time since the break-up to get some kind of ‘revenge body’. You hadn’t been religiously hitting the gym as apparently he had been. Instead, you had been obsessively hitting the books and spending nights alone with junk food, and-

“God, you are so much more beautiful than I remembered.” He breathed out, the words so utterly passionate and sacred on his lips.

Your stomach clenched at this. You felt yourself being involuntarily swallowed up by your affection for him again. Drowning in a love for him that you had long since locked away deep somewhere, trying to smother it out until it died. Apparently you had been unsuccessful in that.

Isaac only made it worse when he dove in for another kiss, smothering your lips with heat again as he ran his hands, now much warmer, over your body - up your stomach, gently tracing the stretch marks there as though he appreciated each one. His hands coming to cup your breasts and oh-so-lightly flicking at your nipples, teasing them as he tongued along your teeth.

You could barely handle it - the gentle treatment, the way it made your pussy flutter and leak wetness into your panties. You knew all too soon, you would be entirely weak to him. If you weren’t careful, you would let him do anything he wanted to you.

You continued to back him up, your hand going to the doorknob of your bedroom and finally, successfully pushing him inside. You pushed him back until his knees met the bed and then you brought two hands to his chest, shoving him out of the kiss and tossing him back onto the bed - this caused him to make a startled noise as he fell back onto your neatly made covers and collection of fluffy pillows.

And then, he looked up at you with an utterly cocky smirk - strangely, one that only made you want to fuck him even more.

“Come on, c’mere-” He encouraged you, full of breath, holding out his hands to you.

You felt a rush of lust-fueled bravery and you tucked your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and underwear all at once, shoving them down over your hips, pushing out any last bits of insecurity that you felt.

You waited for Isaac to follow your lead and strip out of his last remaining bit of clothing. Instead, he sat there, sprawled out on the bed, leaning on his elbows, looking at you in the low lighting (the streetlamps coming in through the window with the sound of rain still pouring, pounding against the glass) - his jaw dropped and his eyes wide, looking at you with a unique kind of awe that you hadn’t seen on his face before. Not even the first time he had seen you naked and he had given you that ‘teenage boy seeing tits for the first time’ look.

It was like he was well and truly seeing you for the first time - like the distance had made him appreciate you so much more. It made you feel so much more naked, and gave you the urge to cover yourself.

Just as you were about to, he spoke again.

“You are so utterly gorgeous.” He told you, his voice full of that epic passion that made your insides quake. “So fucking perfect. Fuck.”

“Isaac-” You squeaked out his name, entirely unsure of what else to say.

He pushed himself up, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you forward until you stumbled and tripped, landing on the bed between his thighs. You let out a breathy gasp as he began kissing down your neck - smoothly, softly, seemingly intent to appreciate you now that he had you here. It brought more of those dangerously warm feelings washing up - it made you feel soft and sappy inside, made you miss the days when you called Isaac your boyfriend. Days when the two of you used to lay on the couch together and cuddle, when you held hands in the hallways, when you would tell each other everything.

It was a dangerous feeling to have now.

One of his hands pulled on your thigh and you understood his unconscious wish - moving your legs to straddle around his waist as he began sucking a spot on the base of your neck, a tender bit of skin he knew was a weakness he could exploit. This sent warm waves of pleasure through you while he squeezed both hands across your ass, bringing you to sit down fully on his still clothed crotch. It sent a shockwave through you - feeling his hard, clothed cock pressing right up against your hot, naked pussy - it made you intensely needy, caused you to unconsciously grind down on him and let out a high, needy moan.

“Isaac, please,”

You knew that you were hovering in a dangerous place. All of this was settling you back into familiarity - if you weren’t careful, you would set yourself up for hurt all over again. You were letting him pry you open, inviting him to tear through your heart all over again, and then - what would be left for you?

No - you needed mindless sex. You needed to fuck him, for closure. And then you needed to put him out of your life completely.

You leaned over to the nightstand, unlatching him from your neck in the process. You tried your hardest to ignore the sweet kisses he peppered along your shoulder as you dug through the drawer for a condom, checking to make sure it wasn’t expired (because woefully, he had been the last person you had used this pack with) before you came back with it in hand.

When Isaac saw you bring it to your teeth with the clear intentions of ripping it open, it began to protest.

“Woah, Y/N, wait-” He rushed out the words, and you glared at him.

“‘Wait’, what? I thought this is what you wanted.”

The words came off your tongue much crueler than you intended - a result of you being harshly at odds with yourself. You were trying desperately not to stumble back into being that foolish girl who loved him too much. Trying to get over your feelings for him, to prove to yourself that you could be as emotionally detached as he was on that day.

He swallowed thickly, looking at you with those godforsaken puppy eyes. Those eyes that had drawn you in so many times before.

“I just-”

‘I wanted to kiss over every inch of your body. I wanted it to be slow. I wanted to make love to you. I wanted to prove to you how much I missed you, how huge of a mistake I made.’

“Nothing.” Isaac choked out - and then, surprisingly, he snatched the condom from you.

In one smooth move, he captured your mouth with his again, wrapping his arms around your back and flipping you so that you were underneath him. It was a strong, powerful move that had you whimpering into his mouth, feeling utterly pathetic in his shadow as your cunt leaked more needy wetness against his boxers. You hated that you unconsciously leaned into his touches, desperate for more.

When he pulled away from the kiss, you looked on breathlessly as he shoved down his underwear and kicked them off, causing his impressive cock to spring free and smack against his stomach. Something you stared at like a beacon, your pussy clenching hungrily around nothing while he tore open the condom and rolled it on.

He then took the base of his cock in hand, putting the other hand on the bed beside you to prop himself up while he teased the tip of his cock along your folds, parting your pussy as he teased inside - lightly bumping your clit in a way that drove you insane.

“Ready?” He asked, his voice breathy and full of need, something you had so dearly missed hearing from him.

“Hurry up,” You egged him on, partly due to impatience from the teasing, wound up by the nagging feeling of the thick cockhead prodding against your throbbing cunt - and partly because you were eager to get this over with. You were eager to prove to yourself that you could do this and feel nothing inside. That ultimately, you were over him.

He grinned, all teeth, almost evil, and he let out a sharp breath. Then, finally, pushed forward, shoving his cock inside of you all at once - one smooth push that had his hips shoving right up against yours, his coarse pubic hairs brushing against the sensitive, swollen lips of your pussy.

You let out a throaty moan as you felt the full stretch of his cock so abruptly - a slight sting as your inner muscles struggled to become accustomed to him after going for so long without. Sure, you had masturbated, struggling to get past the sexual frustration while being single. And you really hadn’t wanted to resort to calling on any of your random male classmates for a ‘no strings attached’ fuck because you didn’t want to deal with the social interaction or the potential rumors.

And really, your fingers were nothing compared to the stretch of Isaac’s magnificent, thick cock.

Isaac saw the shock on your face as you felt just how big he was, as your body ached to remember it and you felt so fucking full again. He felt a wave of cocky pride flow through him as you clenched down on him, truly feeling every single inch.

“You asked for it,” He told you firmly, the confidence in his voice sending waves of pleasure through you - he had never been so outright cocky before. And you were turned on even more, even wetter when he added on a quiet, sharp whisper of: “Fuck, I missed this.”

But it was a bitter, double edged sword. As much as it turned you on to hear that hushed whisper coming off his lips, it only reminded you that the two of you had been parted. That he had done something cruel to you in order for that parting to happen - that his stupid decisions were the reason that you had been forced to miss him.

“Don’t.” You said sharply, raising your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails in as a type of warning, hoping that he would simply shut up and fuck you - mindless and hard, just like you needed. That he would make you cum, and then he could sleep on the couch for the night before finding other arrangements.

He gave you a smirk - one that said he had found the perfect button to push, and rather than turning away from it, he was going to slam on it until he broke you.

“What?” He said, all breath, all need - that tone that made your pussy absolutely flutter. “You don’t want me talking about how much I missed this pussy?”

“Isaac-” You said his name in a warning tone, digging your nails into him again, but your words were cut off by him pressing his pelvis into you, angling sharply against you in a way that put pressure against your clit. Like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he had picked up the skill with someone else-

Erica. Of course. It only served to piss you off more, and you moved to shove him off you.

But he began moving his hips, then - his knees poised against the mattress, using it for leverage as he began fucking you. It was a sensation you hadn’t realized you had missed so much - the smooth, wet slide of his cock in and out of you, the slight burn from him fucking you so harshly, unstretched - the pure need pulsing through you, the feeling of being so full.

Your little gasp was quickly drowned out when he began talking again.

“I’m not allowed to tell you how much I missed this feeling, huh?”

Isaac grunted, his voice only wavering slightly from the effort as he sped up, slamming his hips into you harder, rougher - quickly filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against skin, easily making your pussy lips glow with a beautiful kind of pain that only made it feel so much better.

“You don’t wanna hear about how much I missed this tight little cunt squeezing my cock?”

He had never been like this with you before.

Every single time the two of you had been in bed together, it had always been slow, sweet. The Isaac you knew before always made love to you. He was always so shy and loving. This was a side of him that you had never seen before, and if your mind wasn’t slowly melting between your ears from the pure pleasure, then you would have had the room to be shy about how much wetter you were getting around his cock, how much sloppier the sounds were becoming as he drilled into you even harder.

“Sh-” You squeaked out, the potential words that you had wanted to be ‘shut up’ easily drowned out by a pathetic moan. He chased more noises out of you when he reached down and thumbed across your clit - just a light tease, but enough to send shocks curling across your spine, enough to have you curling against the bed and squeezing his cock in that way he loved so much.

“What was that?” He mocked you, the tone of his voice a cocky imitation of the sweet way he used to talk to you, condescending in a way you should have hated.

It was definitely not something that should have made your head float and not something that should have brought even more heat to your face. Clearly, he sensed it from a mile away, saw it written all over your face - saw another button to push, and kept on going.

This was a game to him now. And regrettably, he was winning.

“Aww, baby, you wanna hear more? You wanna hear more about how much I missed your sweet little pussy?”

You choked on your own breath trying to protest against him, hating how perfectly his words got to you. And now, even your hands were numb and limp and you couldn’t claw at him as your own kind of petty revenge. You could barely even hang on as he continued pounding into you roughly, shoving you across the bed, making the headboard shake.

All you could do was choke on your own spit and take the blurring pleasure of his thick cock slamming into you while he leaned down to purr his next filthy words into your ear.

“You know, nothing can compare to the feeling of this sweet pussy gripping my cock,” He said, putting cruel emphasis on these words, causing your heart to bitterly ache in your chest.

Was he mocking you on purpose? Was this his way of asking for forgiveness, saying that he regretted what he had done?

It was something you couldn’t discern now - not with your brain so thoroughly melted by his cock.

You let out a whimper in return, the sadness mixing strangely with the pleasure he was fucking into your throbbing pussy.

“Nothing is better than the feeling of your soft, gorgeous body underneath me.” He added on, running his hands up your hips and to your breasts for emphasis. “Nothing is better than cumming while your pretty eyes look up at me, Y/N, you-”

Something inside of you snapped.

Perhaps it was because he was saying all of the right things, drifting back into that sweet man that you had fallen in love with. Inadvertently triggering all of that affection inside of you again, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You reached up and slapped him broadly across the face.

It was a very weak hit from your pleasure-numb hand, barely enough to make him flinch, but it was certainly enough to get his attention.

In response, in a fraction of a moment, he paused his rough movements, completely still his hips from fucking you, and grabbed both of your wrists, pinning you down to the bed with the impressive strength of his newly worked muscles. He shoved his cock deep inside of you, settling it there, pressing his hips tightly against yours in an almost spiteful way.

This created the battling sensations of your orgasm curling up in your stomach, already so close, and the fiery anger you had for him, along with the love for him that you didn’t want to release caged up inside of you. It was almost too much, too overwhelming while you stared into his eyes, trying desperately to read the stiff expression he wore.

“Why are you doing this?” You demanded sharply.

You desperately wanted to know what he wanted out of this. He had begged you for warmth, for the touch of another body against his - but clearly, this was about so much more.

Did he want forgiveness? Did he genuinely want to work on the relationship because he had missed you? Did he see what he had done as a mistake?

Did he want to simply rub all of it in your face? Did he want the bragging rights of having cheated on you and the ability to come back and fuck you whenever he wanted just to lord it all over you? To know that he could screw you over and still screw you?

He leaned in closer to your face, and you were praying that he would give you a definitive answer.

“You let me in.” He told you gruffly, his eyes dark.

You both knew that this had a dangerous double meaning. You had dared to let him in the front door when he knocked. You had let him into your life when he had told you over and over again that he was simply ‘poison’, that it would end in pain for the both of you. Had he been right about that, after all? You knew that he had more trauma than you could reasonably comprehend, but you didn’t know that heinous self sabotage was his number one reason for ruined relationships.

When would fighting for him no longer be viable?

Before you could puzzle it all out, he began fucking into you harshly once again.

“Fuck you,” You squeaked out, breathless - it wasn’t clever, but it was all you could come up with.

Your mind was useless while his cock was turning your brain to mince meat once again, making your pussy delightfully sore and unfortunately, quickly bringing your orgasm to life in your belly with rapidly hotter waves of pleasure that he was forcing through your body.

“You - you can’t tell me that you didn’t miss t-this,” He grunted out.

He pressed his hips tightly to yours and grinded in deep, angling his hips in that skilled way once again that put pressure on your clit. He knew how to perfectly trap that swollen bead between your two bodies, slowly torturing you with rapid little shocks while he drove home just how full he made you feel with each stroke of his hips.

At this point, even though you were dizzy and desperate to cum, you were also sick of his self righteous attitude - still looking to deny him.

“I - I didn’t,” You choked out in reply, your body more than betraying your lie.

Your muscles seized toward him and you struggled against the hold he still had on your wrists, unconsciously fucking your hips against him. You needed more friction on your clit, needing just a bit more before you could cum.

Isaac stopped.

He completely stilled himself, making your orgasm cold and stale, ebbing off inside of you. Tears leaked thick and bold from your eyes - partially from the denial, and partially from all of the cruel emotions battling inside of you.

You had missed Isaac. You hated lying - but you hated what he had done to you so much more.

You let out a choked off wail, continuing to struggle underneath his impossible strength.

“You’re lying.” He growled in your ear, a sharp sound that sent shivers down your spine.

It was a truth that pierced through you, utterly revealing. Perhaps you were raw from the state of being, from being open on his cock and so desperate to cum, but you knew that he could absolutely see your truth.

You had no clue that he could literally smell it on you - your defiance, your lies, your arousal. The love you were holding back that he was absolutely rabid and starving for.

It was a hunger that he had felt for months - one he had tried to fill by having mindless sex with Erica, by blindly running forward on the search for her and Boyd, by running headfirst into stupid fights with the opposing pack that had nearly gotten him killed. He had tried so damn hard to dull that impossible hunger with the pain of claws and hits smashing against his skin.

But it was something that could only be satisfied by you.

So he had come crawling back to you, lapping at your door like a kicked puppy - a powerful wolf like himself begging you, a human, for something only you could give him. That love that would fill all the holes inside of him that he claimed were never there in the first place - all those empty spaces he so desperately tried to ignore.

“Isaac-” You breathed out again, further reminding him of just how hollow he felt when the sound of his name coming off your lips echoed off all that empty space inside of him.

“Tell me you didn’t miss me.” He choked out in return, tears of his own blooming in his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t miss me and I’ll stop.”

“Isaac,” You let out his name as sob, your pussy clenching tightly around him. Both of you knew that you couldn’t - you could muster this up now.

Maybe it was a trap he had perfectly set - maybe it was something Derek had accidentally taught him. Trap the vulnerable, make them depend on you, and they can never leave you. Build a home out of glass walls and you’ll be happy for a while.

“Tell me.” Isaac wept. “Or I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.”

He said, his voice shaking - it wasn’t a threat. To him it was a golden promise. He was a starving dog, and if you did this now, if you truly showed him that you had nothing left to give, then he would disappear off into the woods - he would starve to death or he would learn to get his food somewhere else from now on.

“Tell me honestly that you didn’t miss me and you’ll never see me again, Y/N, I swear.”

It was a sacred promise on his breath, barely a whisper on his lips as he tightly gripped your wrists once again, sending slight pain shooting through you, assuring you of his desperation.

In those moments, all you could summon was the truth.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care about his motives - the sheer pain in his warbling voice only did what it had always done to you before. It made you want to care for him more. It made you honest in that caring as you always had been.

“I missed you.” You choked out, and took a deep shuddering breath, finding the courage to say it louder, more firmly. “I missed you, Isaac. Okay? I missed you! I missed you, I-”

Your repetition of the declaration was cut off - he couldn’t help it.

He sealed his mouth to yours in a messy, passionate kiss, his tearful cheeks clashing against your own as his hands slid up to link with yours, his fingers tangling with yours in an utterly needy way. You couldn’t help but to grip him tightly back, your fingers almost painful from how hard you did this.

Your chest exploded with everything you had been denying - the love and affection and longing you had locked away for months, those feelings that you had damned and cursed over and over again.

Instinctively, he began moving his hips again, fucking into you deeply. This felt more like making love - it was slower and so fucking deep, as though he was trying desperately to get as close to you as possible, trying to climb inside and find the essence of your very soul.

You thrashed against him in response, so overwhelmed. You wailed and wept into his mouth, entirely overcome with your horrible clash of emotions.

It was a perfect storm for one of the best orgasms of your life.

His pelvis grinding against your clit, the relief of finally having him back, finally having told him how much you missed him, feeling his tears against your cheek and knowing that he had missed you too - finally having everything you had secretly been dreaming about, yearning for.

Your body couldn’t help but to sing with joy over these realizations, fucking yourself against him and bowing into an utterly epic release as all your emotions crashed over you. It forced you away from the kiss to cry out brokenly against his mouth while you squeezed his fingers numbly as the sensations rocked your body.

“Isaac, Isaac-” You chanted his name, entirely overwhelmed.

“I know, I know,” He gurgled back, continuing to fuck you, chasing his own release now. “Fuck, Y/N. I know. Fuck, I missed you-”

His voice broke down into a whimper as he finally came, pumping his hips a few more times before he finally planted himself against you and emptied his cum into the condom. (In the back of his mind, having a passing thought about how he hated it being there, how he wished he could feel you raw).

That was when you saw it - a flash of bright yellow, a literal glow in the dimly lit room that was absolutely unmistakable. The only other time you had seen anything like it was when Scott had transformed in front of you to save your life. In a single moment, everything came to you in a crashing realization while your orgasm was still echoing through your body-

The newfound seemingly epic strength, the muscles, the way he had been acting so strange after his father’s death, his eagerness to get distance from you. He had been bitten and transformed into a fucking werewolf. He had been one this whole time. Wait, how long-?

He captured your lips once again while he continued to enjoy the feeling of your hands tangling with his own, the feeling of you warm and wet, nestled around his cock - the feeling of finally being home. After a too-short moment, you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, puffing wildly against his chin while your nose brushed his flushed cheek.

The realization was still crashing over you.

How long had he been lying to you? Did he lie to you to protect you? Did he think that you knew nothing? Did he think that you were in danger because your mother had been killed? Were you in danger?

You wanted so badly to bring it up, to ask him more questions, but instead, you basked in the silence - the sound of his slowing breaths, the last bit of enjoyment you could get from the fullness as his cock softened inside of you. Which reminded you-

“Isaac, you - you have to throw away the condom.” You whispered, terrified to break up the moment.

“Oh. Yeah.” He said, clearly bitter at the idea of being distanced from you, but knowing that it was just the reality of things - that the two of you would have to part eventually.

He finally released your hands, which were now slightly numb and painful from being in the same position for so long, and from being gripped so harshly by him, tingling with blood in that ugly sharp way. You couldn’t bring yourself to truly mind it.

When he pulled his cock out of you, you whined from the soreness and your own hesitation at parting, and he kissed a silent apology into the top of your breast as he took off the condom and tossed into a wastebasket that was at your bedside - your room well memorized by him and still so unchanged since he had last been in here.

In fact, he had helped you move in and had done a lot of unpacking with you when you had made the transition after your mother’s death. He felt so comfortable in this room. More than he ever had at ‘home’ with his father.

You scooted off the bed, your body already protesting with soreness, and you moved to the doorway, intending to go to the bathroom. You needed a moment to yourself to comprehend everything and also, you needed to clean up.

You paused in the doorway, feeling Isaac’s eyes heavy on your back. You picked up one of your shirts that had landed on the floor beside the laundry hamper - one you had been wearing just the night before. It was a black shirt with the Jigsaw spiral on it. In a sense, it reminded you of him - willing to take a lot of pain and suffer in silence, sacrifice a lot for the ones he loved.

You picked up the shirt and tossed it at him, causing it to land awkwardly on his head.

“Get dressed.” You told him quietly. “I don’t think my sister will be a huge fan of some naked guy sleeping in my bed when she comes home.”

It was your not-so-subtle way of telling him that he would be spending the night, and definitively staying in your bed.

“What am I now - your whore?” He joked, letting out a small nervous laugh as he peeled the fabric off his face.

This was his not-so-subtle way of asking what the relationship meant to you now - posed as a joke. Did he get the precious title of being your boyfriend again? Even after all he had done?

You shrugged.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” You told him - another insinuation. You would be back to have that grand talk. “You should get some pants. They’re in-”

“-in the bottom drawer.” Isaac finished off the sentence easily. “I remember.”

Of course.

You left the room then, and Isaac watched your back until you were gone from view. He picked up the shirt you had given him and lifted it to his nose, taking in a greedy whiff of your scent - and his heart ached as he thought about all he had put you through. But he also felt like telling you the truth wouldn’t have been much better.

…

“You’re sure that you wanna do this?” Erica posed, stepping into the locker room with Isaac.

She was going along with his plan simply because she wanted the petty thrill of stealing someone else’s boyfriend - even if it wasn’t entirely real.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Isaac told her, checking the clock again, counting down the moments until his relationship with you would be over. “I need her to hate me.”

Erica hummed in affirmation and nodded, and then kicked off her shoes and stripped off her jacket. When she went for the zipper on the front of her top, Isaac flinched and put up his hands in protest. He didn’t want to actually cheat on you - he thought he had made that part very clear when posing the plan to Erica. He didn’t want to actually have sex with her (no matter how much she suggested it).

“Woah - what’re you doing?” He gaped, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Making it look real, dumbass.” She told him, unzipping her top and tossing it aside without care. “You don’t have to fuck me, but make it look like you were going to, at least. Make it believable.”

His insides churned with guilt… but - she had a point.

“You said you want her to hate you. So make her hate you.” Erica added on with a smirk. She was enjoying this far too much.

“Fine, fine, yeah.” Isaac agreed, and then he thought of something. “Do you have the uh-?” He motioned to her mouth, to the bright red lipstick that she was wearing. “The one that you have on?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She reached to the back pocket of her jeans, took out the lipstick tube and handed it to Isaac. He uncapped it and - much to her horror - stuck his fingers all over it to begin smearing it across his cheeks and then his chest. Staging the scene to make it look like she had been kissing him.

“Gross!” She complained, snatching it back from him. “You - ugh!”

She inspected the top of the lipstick for a moment before deciding that Isaac had ruined it entirely - so she sighed and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

She wanted to complain further about it, but instead - she got petty.

“Okay, you want real?”

Before he could predict what she meant by this, she reared her claws and dug large scratch marks into his back, wicked stinging and painful - marks that wouldn’t heal for at least a few hours due to his Beta status.

“Dammit!” He cried out in protest.

He turned and looked in the mirror then - out of context, the marks would look oddly sexual.

She grinned at him. “You’re welcome.”

“You are such a bitch.” He sighed in defeat.

“Takes one to know one, sweetie.”

Before he could come up with a clever reply, they both heard you coming down the mostly secluded hallway, able to notice you from far off due to their enhanced hearing.

You were humming brightly to yourself. You were so happy.

Isaac churned with regret already, but he knew he couldn’t turn back now.

“Showtime.” Erica grinned, and pinned him up against one of the lockers, kissing him fiercely.

…

That had easily been one of the worst days of his life. But he had felt entirely validated when he had witnessed Gerard attempt to use the Kanima to kill Allison - the impossible power of the large reptile tightening its tail around her throat, her own grandfather ruthless enough to want her dead without caring. Something that might have actually come to terrible fruition if Scott hadn’t thought steps ahead to outsmart him.

You were someone so kind. You were someone who always wanted to help people, wanted to save people - and it would have gotten you killed. You would have gotten in the way, trying to help someone who couldn’t be saved, and you would have died because of it.

Erica suggested to Isaac many times that he simply let Derek give you the Bite so that you wouldn’t be ‘weak’ anymore - so that you could fight for yourself and you could be strong alongside them. But Isaac refused to even consider it. He refused to even let Derek talk to you because he knew that you would be making the choice for the wrong reasons. You would want to be Turned to be with Isaac. You wouldn’t want it for yourself.

And - as Derek had warned all of them - there was a small chance that the Bite could kill you. And Isaac would never let that happen to you. He wouldn’t put you in that kind of danger, not for his own selfish reasons.

So Isaac stayed far away from you.

He started having sex with Erica after he broke up with you - the kind of harsh, mindless sex that took his mind off you for at least a few minutes. And thankfully, Erica didn’t mind when your name slipped from his lips as he came. She said that she thought it was ‘cute’ - how in love with you he was. It was likely more okay with her because she was seeing Boyd and Stiles on the side at the time.

Her and Isaac were never anything exclusive, never anything close to being in love. It helped him see the more human side of her. It definitely made them closer friends. And it caused it to hurt a lot more when he found out that she was dead.

Maybe it was part of the reason why he had come back to you tonight. Because Erica thought the way he loved you was sweet. She was always pushing him to go back to you because of how hung up on you he was. She thought that he should just push all of his fears aside and be with you instead of hiding from it.

Isaac let out a harsh huff and shoved the shirt over his head before getting up to find a pair of pants.

…

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt an intense chill biting at your skin from walking around the apartment naked. You couldn’t help but to find it ironic that a single shiver had started all of this. Perhaps you had given all of your warmth to Isaac.

What the hell had happened?

Isaac had cheated on you with Erica. Or so he wanted you to believe. Either way, he had set you up for the hurt of believing it, rather than just breaking up with you. Rather than just telling you the truth. That truth being that he had been transformed into a werewolf.

Isaac was a werewolf.

That was a lot to take in.

Perhaps the most shocking part - for some fucking reason, he didn’t trust you with that information.

The basis of it all being: he didn’t trust you.

It made you crash with hurt and betrayal all over again. Almost worse than you had felt on the day you had walked in and seen him and Erica all over each other.

You had to ball up some toilet paper to wipe up your tears, and you stared at yourself harshly in the mirror, wondering why.

Why didn’t he trust you enough to tell you?

Was he afraid that you would consider him some kind of monster? Did he not know that Scott had saved your life at the school that night and since then, you considered every single werewolf to be an ally of yours in some way, rather than feeling afraid of them? Did he think that you would have shunned him as dangerous and scary because of his newfound abilities?

Had he actually killed his father?

You highly doubted it, seeing as he had been with you all night on the night of the murder. Even if he had been the one - you would have congratulated him for doing so. His father was a cruel bastard and you never would have judged him for finally snapping on the man.

So why? Why?

You finally gathered yourself enough to go back to your bedroom, and you found Isaac wearing your shirt and pair of your plaid pajama pants, leaning against the pillows, clearly waiting for you. You silently gathered some clothes of your own, and then you sat on the edge of the bed with your back turned to him.

There was a tense moment before either of you spoke. The rain had come to a calm patter outside, making the gentleness of your voice cut through the room in a much harsher way.

“You didn’t cheat on me with Erica.” You spoke it as a statement, rather than a question.

You knew it to be virtually true, and you were simply waiting for him to confirm it as a fact.

You stepped into your underwear and pulled them up, and he kept his eyes carefully on your back, trying to memorize each precious inch of you in the low lighting - as though this would be the last time he ever got to see your naked skin again.

“How did you know?” He wondered quietly in return.

“It’s that self destructive thing you do.” You told him. “I got you that nice watch for your sixteenth birthday, and then you ‘broke it’ running late night lacrosse drills.”

You said, putting sarcastic emphasis on the words, not pretending to believe the lie he had told you at the time. You and Isaac both knew what had happened.

He didn’t believe that he was worthy of nice things. He had smashed it on purpose in an emotional fit, maybe not even knowing that he was desperate to see what your reaction would be. It was an instinct to sabotage the relationship with you.

He thought that you would scream, yell, fault him for being ‘stupid’. He thought that you would break up with him over a watch - over him not taking care of your nice gift well enough. Instead, you told him that it was okay - comforted him about. And a week later, you replaced it with a slightly cheaper version that he still had.

“After the first time I told you that I loved you, you got into that huge bloody fist-fight with Greenberg because you said that you saw him staring at my ass.” You recounted. “But you’re not the jealous type.”

Again - true. He wasn’t jealous, he had just been looking to get a reaction out of you. Again, it was a desire entirely unconscious to him - projecting all of that discomfort and annoyance onto Greenberg at the time. He felt like things were too good with you. You were too loving, too sweet - he was going to fuck it up sooner or later, and one day, he was going to make a mistake too big for you to forgive.

He simply thought he should make that mistake and get it over with, rather than waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You sighed and hoisted your shirt over your head, slipping your arms through the sleeves and letting the loose fabric fall down over your back before you finally turned to him.

“The one thing I couldn’t figure out, though-” You told him carefully. “Was what I had done to evoke you cheating on me.” You said, your voice choppy and tearful once again.

“Y/N-” He begged quietly, reaching across the bed toward your hand, which you quickly snatched away.

He didn’t want you to think that his vile nature was ever your fault.

“I finally get it, though.” You added on sharply. “You could have just told me, Isaac.”

His chest jumped with anxiety. How did you know? You couldn’t possibly know that-

“Your eyes were glowing yellow earlier.”

Isaac sighed in defeat and slumped back against the bed.

“How do you know?” He asked, curious about how you knew about the existence of werewolves in the first place.

“Scott.” You said simply.

“Scott.” He echoed back dully. Of course.

Isaac ground his palms into his forehead, exhausted by the fact that you had found out about something he had been trying to protect you from. That he had put you through so much unnecessary pain.

“I was trying to protect you.” He said quietly. “I didn’t want you getting hurt, I wanted you as far away from me as possible-”

“Protect me from what?” You cried out, entirely exasperated with him.

If there was truly some source of danger, you wanted him to tell you about it.

But of course, that wasn’t what he meant.

“Me.”

He finally admitted it, the thing the two of you had been dancing around for the entirety of your relationship.

“I’m not good for you, Y/N.” Isaac added on, his throat tight with tears once again. “You need to stay away from me, you-”

“So you pretended to cheat on me?” You bit back sharply.

There it was again - the stupidity of his own regret that stung him so much.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He replied, sounding bitterly regretful rather than any kind of smut.

“Yet we’re still right back here.” You sighed in return.

“Like I said - I didn’t know where else to go.”

He felt a unique guilt in running to you. But as much as he tried to deny it, you were his safe place. You were the only one he could turn to when his world was crashing down. He had done the same thing too many times when his father had been alive, so the habit was far too ingrained into him.

Rather than reminding him why you gave him that safety, driving it home, you asked a different question that had been burning at you.

“Where have you been staying since your father died?” You asked.

Isaac hesitated heavily at this. He didn’t want to delve into the stupidity of his choices; the mistakes that had led him up to this point.

You waited patiently in his silence.

You began to busy yourself - stood up and began plucking certain pillows off the bed to put them aside, causing Isaac to stand up to the side to let you pull back the covers. You didn’t ask him to leave, which was as good as wordlessly inviting him to sleep there with you. It gave him a certain comfort, knowing that you weren’t entirely paying attention to him as you fluffed the bed and then sought out cream for your hands, going about a nightly routine. Knowing that he would still get to fall asleep with you after all this.

“You know Derek Hale?” Isaac posed.

That was a complex question for you.

You knew him as the man who had ultimately killed the beast that had killed your mother. In your mind, that made him someone favorable. But Scott had warned you to stay away from him - had said that Derek was not the kind of person you should ever be mixing with, werewolf or not. And you trusted Scott with your life, and thus far, had absolutely no reason to interact with Derek Hale. So you had steered clear of him.

But you weren’t sure how to form your opinions around him.

“I know of him,” You replied. “Scott talks about him unpleasantly. Told me to stay away from him.”

Isaac was happy that Scott had done so, but that didn’t set the stage so well for what he had to say next.

“He - he kinda took me in after my father died.” Isaac explained, purposefully vague.

“Oh.” You said, your aptitude of mixed feelings for Derek flowing through the air so easily with your voice saying this simple word.

Clearly, Scott didn’t like him. He had never explained to you why, but whenever he spoke about Derek, there was always an oddly calm rage bubbling under the surface. Derek had taken Isaac in, which seemed like a kindness on the surface - but clearly, he didn’t care for Isaac. He had left him homeless in a rainstorm with nowhere else to go but to come crawling back to your doorstep in utter desperation.

Derek sounded like an asshole.

Again - you trusted Scott completely. And whatever reasons he had for not liking Derek… they seemed to be coming to light without an explanation needed from him.

You put two pillows at the head of the bed, and then you crawled to sit on your side while Isaac leaned against the bench underneath your window with his arms crossed, staring at you with his jaw clenched. He knew you well enough to know what was on your mind.

“Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds.” He told you, instinctively defensive of Derek, his pack Alpha. “He helped me out. And not just me. Boyd, and Erica-”

“Oh.” You sighed, rolling your eyes, still feeling sensitive toward the name even though the cheating hadn’t been entirely real. “He helped Erica. Big fan of Erica.” You scoffed sarcastically - the image of her red lips all over Isaac still seared into your brain.

“Please don’t be like that.” Isaac shook his head. “She was my friend.”

“Was?” You questioned, now entirely caught up on the tense.

Were they no longer friends, or-?

“Erica is dead.” Isaac choked out, barely able to say the words.

It was the first time he had spoken these words in a conscious state, out of the ice bath. It was the first time that he had truly come to terms with it. Even after Derek had brought her body back and he had helped him bury her under a circle of Wolfsbane, just as he had done to his sister Laura before (until the grave had been disturbed by two idiots not knowing what they were doing).

This came as a shock to you.

You had seen the missing posters plastered all over town - all over school, and you had heard people whispering rumors about her, none of which you believed. Things about how she ‘shacked up’ with an older man who ended up killing her and burying her body somewhere. Whispers about how she became a prostitute and probably overdosed, how she simply ran away because Beacon Hills sucked so much.

Even if you didn’t like her at the time, you had always felt bad for her, and hoped that she was truly okay. You had always felt bad for her parents because they never had answers.

You had no clue that she had been involved with Derek Hale and other werewolves.

“Boyd just got back after being missing for months,” Isaac continued, his voice still saturated with mourning. “But it’s like he’s still gone. I don’t blame him, after what happened.”

You badly wanted to ask what Isaac meant by this, but you held back. His eyes were distant, swimming with intense thought - he was off somewhere else, clearly speaking into open air things that he had been dying to get off his chest. So you were going to stay silent, giving him the space to let it all out.

“And Derek -”

He cut himself off abruptly, replaying the moment in his mind, wondering where it had all gone wrong. It made him sick - the sound of Derek’s booming voice, the glass smashing over his head. Isaac knew that somehow, it was all his fault. What had he done wrong? What had he done so wrong to make Derek react that way?

What was so poisonous, so inherently unlovable about Isaac that made people act that way around him?

“Derek kicked me out for no reason.” He mumbled quietly, continuing.

“Isaac-” Your urge to comfort him was welling up again.

And now that he had opened the dam of these feelings - unfortunately, he couldn’t turn off the flood when it came.

“I feel so alone.”

He declared sharply, his voice edging into a near-sob that made your chest bitterly ache. His eyes were wide and wet with tears, and you nearly rushed across the room just to hold him.

“I just - I feel so wrong. There is something inside of me that is so wrong, that is so damn broken. I felt like… for a moment, for a split second, things were good. I had a family, I had a purpose. But it’s me, ya know? I’m just broken. I break things. I fuck everything up. If I love something, it dies. So I can’t - I just can’t be loved.”

“That’s not true.” You rushed to say it, and before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling from your lips. “I love you.”

It was the first time you had spoken the words since the break-up, the first time you used those words in such an anchored, present tense.

Isaac looked at you with the most broken expression you had ever seen.

Thousands of demons fighting to get out, his eyes so glassy with hurt. His lips quivered as he fought with it himself - he wanted so badly to say it back, but the moment he did, he became liable again. The moment he did, he became yours again and you became his - you became something he could lose.

It felt like a death sentence in his mouth. One that he couldn’t bring himself to curse you with.

He let out a sharp, nasal breath as the words fought hard inside of his chest. Your own pain struggled inside of you, and you knew you had to do the one thing that you did best - comfort him. Release him from his pain.

“It’s okay.” You told him gently. “It’s okay, just come to bed.”

You patted the empty side of the mattress, and all of the tension left Isaac’s body in an instant, looking as though he was about to collapse in on himself. He practically fell across the gap from the window to the bed, falling into the comfort you provided once again. You raised the covers for him to crawl in beside you, laying your head on his chest so that you could enjoy the sound of his heartbeat as you pulled the covers up over the two of you.

“You are loved, Isaac.” You told him - you had to tell him. You had to let him know. “And you aren’t alone. You’ll never be alone as long as I’m around.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He replied, the words so quiet that they barely broke free from his throat.

If you weren’t careful, you would start crying again.

“Just go to sleep now.” You told him, putting an arm around his stomach, holding him tightly while he put a hand around your back, holding you to him, anchoring you there as though you might drift away while he slept. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

For some reason, that felt believable to him when you said it.

…

Isaac slept for a few wrecked hours, maybe less.

He was woken up by a nightmare - a vision of Erica crawling toward him, desperately crying out for help before her throat was slashed by Kali. The sound of her choking on her own blood remained swollen in his ears when he jolted awake and stared at your ceiling. It was a while before he realized that calm, sweet pattern beside him was your breathing.

He laid there and listened to it for a long time before he got up. He found himself too thankful that he could hear your heartbeat now - that he could know with his own ears that you were so alive, so safe.

He watched you sleep - took in your peaceful face, the way the first golden rays of the sunrise kissed at your skin - and he knew that he could never let anything worthy of tainting his nightmares happen to you. He was a damn selfish dog, but he would never let you truly get hurt just because he wanted something as fading as sex or comfort.

So Isaac kissed you on the forehead - gentle, careful not to wake you. And he gathered his things. He crept out the door still wearing the shirt that smelled like you. He would claim that it was because he didn’t have any clean laundry - not because he was greedy for your scent.

…

When you woke up, Isaac was gone.

Your sister’s bedroom door was closed and her shoes were back by the front door, so she was home safely. Isaac was not in your bed, and his duffle bag was gone. He had even picked up the soaking wet clothes that he had strewn all over the floor.

The only evidence you found that it hadn’t all been a dream was the used condom still in the wastebasket, and a tiny note on your bedside table that said ‘I love you, too’ scribbled in his handwriting on a piece of torn notebook paper.

You were going to track him down - and when you did, you weren’t sure if you were going to kiss him or kill him.

...

Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a 'Part 2'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, or commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.

However, please do not comment on this fic asking for a sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

I really enjoyed writing this fic, and I do have some ideas for a potential sequel, but it's not something that I am rushing to write, and it's not something that will be on my schedule anytime soon. If you would like to, you can come into my inbox and chat about my ideas for the potential sequel - but right now they are just ideas and they will stay that way for a long time before becoming a full realised story (if they ever become one). I hope you enjoyed this fic as the capsule story oneshot that I always intended for it to be, and that you enjoy my other works if you do check them out.

Happy reading!! -Sunny <3

#sundrop writes #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey x y/n #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey smut #isaac lahey x fem!reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf smut #teen wolf fanfiction

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salliesimpkins · 10 months ago

Text

“I like you a lot”

Isaac lahey x fem!Reader

TW: Smut, oral (fem receiving), use of pet names, claws, nipple play

+16 read at your own risk. I’m not your mommy A/N: first smut to write + english isn’t my first lang word count: 2.5K

You were at school, leaning against your locker. smiling at and laughing with Stiles, until you caught Isaac glaring at you across the hall, visibly upset.

"alright Stiles I've got to go now, I'll see ya" you walked away after Stiles nodded and walked to Scott, and you made your way to Isaac.

"hey" you flashed him a smile and he blushed. How could he not? he thought you were the most beautiful thing ever.

The beta glanced over Stiles before turning back to you. "hey.." he spoke softly.

"Just tired... I uhh, I’ve got a lot on my mind lately" he said slowly and softly, not wanting to ruin this moment between you two.

You nodded slowly, feeling bad for him. "well you know, you can always talk to me" you said softly, reassuring him that he's got someone by his side.

You watched him closely as he looked at you quietly, and you didn't want to rush him to speak, you knew how sensitive Isaac is. It made him feel pathetic when he opened up to anyone or asked for help, that's what his dad has taught him. That a man is a man, boys don't cry, but Isaac knew you, he loved you, trusted you, and he knew your listen and get him anytime.

"I've just been going back.. thinking about my family" He looked down as his expression softened.

"oh" you whispered softly and placed your hand on the boy's back, rubbing it gently. "I know you've suffered from your dad your whole life, but his death Isn’t your fault".

Isaac flinched, but he didn't move away from you. Even though your gesture was tiny, it felt huge to him, It made him on top of the world. He let out a soft sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "I know... I just-" he paused, unsure if he can keep going or not, but he really counted on you, so he kept going. "I didn't even cry at the funeral and everyone thinks I don't care, that I was wishing the whole time i'd get rid of him, and the problem is.. it's true. I was relieved that he's dead"

"Honey listen to me" you took a step closer, placing both your hands on his shoulder. "your dad used to lock you in a freezer. that night.. that night he hurt you and you ran like any other night, because you didn't know what he would die" you then place your hand on isaac's cheek, caressing it softly "you were just scared, you did nothing wrong"

Isaac paused for a moment and leaned into your touched as he shivered. The relief he felt when his father died was a burden to him, but he knew you were saying the truth so he bit his lip thoughtfully. He wanted to say that your hand felt to right on his skin, but he didn't and rubbed his face with his hand then looked at you hesitantly as he spoke. "I- Iwas scared" his voice trembled as he stammered softly, making you unsure if he meant you to hear him. he slowly smiled at you softly and leaned into your touch again, causing his breath to hitch.

you sighed softly as you try to build up some courage and confidence to ask him to go out with you, but you were too scared that he'd turn you down so you just looked quietly at the ground until you heard a familiar 5 taps on the locker next to you and looked to the direction to see lydia. She must have noticed your flustered face because she tilted her head at Isaac and winked at you. You two have been talking about it and she was eager for you to confess to him, and apparently she was so sure Isaac wouldn't let you down for a reason she wouldn't tell.

you snapped out of my trance as Isaac cleared his throat and looked at the same direction you were just looking at, except there was nobody there.

"sorry about that. I was just wondering if you would want to go home with me? I mean-" You paused and took a deep breath. "why don't you come over and we can just.. relax?" you asked nervously as he just looked at you quietly. "Scott's sneaking out with Allison again and our mom won't be home until ten.. so I was thinking if you'd want to just come over instead of staying alone or with Derek, he could be lame sometimes" I chuckle nervously and put on a fake confident grin.

Isaac stayed quiet for a moment or two, taking in your words, and he thought there was no way he could turn that down, the thought of you and him alone in the house with no distractions. He knew he wanted it but he wasn't sure if you did. if you were just doing him a favour because you felt bad, but he decided to push his paranoia to the side and smiled at you softly with a blush on his cheek, nodding. "I'd like that, if you're okay with it"

"ahh perfect! we are gonna have so much fun! we can watch the notebook too if you want to, or maybe cook or play or just" you pause for a second or two, not wanting to creep Isaac out with your sudden excitement. "we could just.. chill you know?" You looked up at him with a smile.

The two of you walked to your house, as Stiles has already left with his jeep, and while you were walking you felt Isaac's hand brush against yours until he took it in, intertwining your fingers together. you could feel how his hand shakes softly and you knew his stomach was probably flipping, he was a nervous wreck.

You held his hand confidently the way home until you reached it and opened the front door for the two of you. After walking in, you turned to Isaac and smiles. "do you wanna stay in the living room, or go to my room? or we can even cook something!" you asked excitedly.

"Your room...?" He asked hesitantly. Your room was usually off limits, that's where you go to relax on your own, away from the pack. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to be there with you. But part of him knows it won't end at just being in your room. Not that he had a problem but that he was worried from Scott's reaction if he knew Isaac was in his sister's room alone in the house. Scott and Isaac were best friends and Isaac didn't want to risk it, but he still loved you.

you saw the look on isaac's face as he started to look overwhelmed, and more anxious than he was, so you decided to cool it down. "I mean it's okay but if you don't want to that's fine. we can sit in the living room" you shrugged, leaving the decision for him to make as you looked at his eyes.

Isaac nodded slowly, looking at your lips then your eyes. "your room" he said softly and carelessly. He wanted to be with you alone. he didn't care what scott would think, he didn't care what the whole pack would think, he only cared about you and being with you, he wanted you.

you smiled and tilted your head for him to follow you. you walked past Scott's room until you reached your room then you walked to the bed, After taking off your shoes, sitting on the bed, then patting on the space next to you for Isaac to sit on.

Isaac followed you to your room, closing his door behind him. His heart skipped a beat when you asked him to sit next to you and the only thing he could think of is how nervous he is. he looked at you and he thought you look so vulnerable, sitting alone waiting for him to join you, so he took a few steps, trying to regulate his breath before sitting next to you. He was so close and nervous, slowly turning his neck to look at you.

"so.. what would you like to do?" you asked softly, trying to make sure he's not uncomfortable.

Isaac looked at you and for the first time he has walked in the room, he didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to kiss you and see what happened but he didn't want to make you pressured, and he didn't want to risk kissing Scott's sister, he was the leader of the pack, so he let the silence between you linger before he decided to break the ice.

"can I be honest with you?" he stressed.

"of course, I won't judge" i nodded in reassurance

Isaac struggles to speak so he leans closer to you. He just wants you to understand him, he needs you to know how he feels, what he's been thinking of, but it's hard for someone like him, someone whom emotions always were rejected. He took a deep breath and leaned closer as his eyes fluttered between your lips and eyes then he opened his mouth to speak but he failed so he looked one more time at you before smashing his lips on yours as he moved one hand on the back of your neck as the other ran over your back to your hips, pulling your whole body into his lap while you froze in shock before pulling him closer, cupping his cheeks while you kissed him back with the same amounts of passion.

After a few moments he pulls away, and looks at you in shock, he had expected everything other than you kissing him back.

"I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have kissed you and if scott finds out he's gonna kill me and-" you cut him off pulling him in another kiss, slowly pushing him to lay down as you move on top of him.

"Scott doesn't have to know" you whispered pulling him in a deeper kiss that made him forget everything.

he was in a daze as he pulled away from you. "you look so beautiful when you kiss me like that" he said softly with a soft smirk that caused you to blush.

He smiled softly as he gently ran his fingers thorough your hair. "you're so beautiful you know? it's just so hard to focus on anything else when we are like that, when you're with me. We can take this as slow as you want"

you pulled him for a kiss in response, breaking it as you smiling against lips, and he moaned softly, slipping his hands under your shirt, caressing your soft skin.

"i want this. you. Right here, right now, But I also don't want to hurt you so tell me what you want, darling." he whisper in your ear as his breath hit your neck, causing you to shiver.

"i want you, please" you whined and pulled him into another kiss as your tongue begged for entrance in his mouth. he let out a soft involuntary moan, as his caresses on your back got faster. His tongue danced with your and he began to grind on you, making you feel the hard bulge in his jeans that rubbed your throbbing pussy, until you pulled away from the kiss breathlessly, pushing him up by his chest, reaching to his shirt, playing with a soft fabric slowly. He sat up on his knees in front of you between your legs, taking off his shirt. You looked up at him, slowly placing the balm of your hand on his chest, tracing your finger over it to his stomach. He let out a low groan while he watched you trace your fingers over his chest, his muscles tensed under your touch.

"you're killing me honey" He whispered, moving closer to you as he kissed your neck slowly, then he sat up again as his hands found their way between your legs. Should undo your bra, or maybe start with these pants?" he teased, and sprung his claws out, moving them swiftly above you, tearing off your clothes.

"i loved that set" you pouted and he smirked

"i'll get you new ones" he pulled your clothes off your body, tossing them away on the floor with his shirt.

He smirked when he saw the blush on your face when you looked away, leaning down to your neck. "don't be shy baby" he whispered, before tracing kissed down your collarbone.

you moaned softly, moving your hands to caress his back softly and he let out a sigh against your skin. His hands found your thighs as he rubbed them slowly, kissing lower and lower. His kisses and nibbles reached your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling and sucking around it while he groped the other one with his hand, pinching the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly.

"I love you, so much" He showered your stomach with smooches and pecks, until his mouth found your slit, running his tongue through your wetness, humming in satisfaction. "so wet baby" he flicked your clit with his tongue as you struggled to answer him back, running your fingers through his hair as you pulled them gently. He took one of his hand, wrapping it around my waist to keep me down while he slid a finger in you with the other, slowly and gently, causing you to moan softly.

he sucked your clit harder making you pull his hair tightly, causing him to moan which vibrates against your pussy as his fingers go faster, feeling you clench around them, sucking them in. "Fuck Isaac" you whined. "i'm so close" you whispered, wondering if he even heard you, then he confirmed as he added a finger in, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching you out as you pull his hair tighter. "Isaac!" you warned, and he understood as you reached your climax, coating his fingers with your cum while he kept his gaze on you then he pulled them out, lapping at your pussy hungrily, taking in your juices.

"you're so sweet baby" he moved up to kiss you as you taste your own arousal. He pulled away from the kiss and you bit your lip, panting for air and you moved your hand to his head, pulling him back down to kiss you, you couldn't get enough of him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

hope you guys liked this 🎀

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twjournals · 1 year ago

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you tell them you're pregnant / part 2

Isaac Lahey

He doesn't believe his ears. He makes you repeat it because he's not sure he heard you correctly.

"Isaac, I'm pregnant." You repeat.

You had known for a few days now. You were in a world of emotions already between your own emotions and wondering what Isaac would think when he found out.

There was no beating around the bush when you told him.

You weren't that far along to notice. If you hadn't missed your period, you probably would not have suspected anything yourself.

He blinked, turning his head as if he was taking in everything you were saying.

You stood in front of him, your hair still damp from the shower you had just taken.

"And here I thought you were about to tell me about something you were thinking in the shower." He chuckled nervously, feeling his hands starting to get clammy and he rubbed them around his pj bottoms. "Pregnant?"

You just nodded your head.

"Is this why you've been so quiet the past few days?" He met your eyes again.

You weren't sure what to say. You were terrified what was going through his mind.

"I can't say I'm not freaking out a little," He started before rising to his feet to lift your chin to look at him. He couldn't lie. He was freaking out between the trauma he was slowly recovering from with his father and trying to keep it from coming between the two of you. But right now he knew how much he needed you.

You look out the shaky breath you were holding in and he stroked his finger across your cheek. "But I'm here."

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, pulling you into his arms to hold you tight. "I'm here."

Theo Raeken

You knew it wasn't smart to be going behind your brother's back with Theo but you couldn't help yourself. And let's be honest Theo wasn't helping either.

"Theo, I need to tell you something." You mumbled against his lips as he started to pull his jacket down his arm.

It wasn't hard to hide it when everyone hated Theo, including you. You played the role so well.

At least that was the case.

"What is it?" His mouth left yours only to continue working kisses down your jaw and along your neck. You could barely think around him.

Your hands pushed against his chest, leaning away from him to pry his lips from your neck. He held onto your waist as he finally met your eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Liam was going to kill you.

You swallowed hard. Everything. "I'm pregnant, Theo."

You could feel how tense the air had grown around you in just a few second. Neither of you had said a word for a while, but his arms never moved from around you.

You moved to pull the two positive pregnancy tests from your back pocket to show him. His eyes followed your hand.

"I'm sorry. This isn't how I wanted things to go either, but I'm terrified. And Liam- Liam is going to-"

His name was like a trigger for the both of you. Considering Liam was your brother and about the only person who gave Theo any sort of a chance aside from you. "He's gonna have to get over it." He finally spoke.

"I don't want to ruin things for you. I know you've been trying to do better with everyone."

"I'm not worried about that." He admitted as his large hands caressed along your back comfortingly. "This matters more to me than trying to appease them." He nodded his head towards you.

Your cheeks blushed a deep crimson before hiding your face into his chest.

Peter Hale

You were curled up on the couch watching a movie with Peter after a long day of both of you helping Scott's pack.

A blanket was draped across both of you and a bowl of popcorn sitting on his lap.

You had known the exciting news for a week now and you couldn't wait any longer to share it with him.

Not that you had been trying to get pregnant, but it was a topic discussed a few times and you both weren't against being parents. You had been married two years now. It was nothing you were in a hurry to do, but now that it was happening. It felt like it was meant to be.

You reached a hand into the bowl to grab some popcorn, smiling to yourself as you kept your eyes on the tv screen.

"So what if I told you I may or may not be pregnant?" You tossed the popcorn in your mouth.

His fingers tracing against your back stilled and he lifted his head off the couch cushion to look at you.

"Are you?"

You struggled to bite back the grin on your lips, peeking over at find his soft eyes already on you.

"I am."

You watched his lips curl into a smile, knocking over the popcorn over to pull you into his lap. "Oh my god Peter. I was eating that."

His arms wrapped around your body to cuddle you on his lap. "I've been waiting for you to say something. I knew something was off." He kissed the corner of your mouth, glazing a large hand over your stomach.

"You knew? What?"

He taps his ear with a smirk. "You're married to a werewolf, baby. This is old news."

#isaac lahey imagine #Isaac lahey x you #Isaac lahey x reader #Isaac lahey fluff #theo raekan imagine #theo reaken x reader #theo raeken one shot #Theo raeken x you #Isaac lahey x y/n #Theo raeken x y/n #Theo raeken fluff #Peter hale x you #Peter hale x reader #Peter hale x y/n #Peter hale fluff #peter hale imagine #Peter hale one shot

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loverslodge · 3 months ago

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the only girl i like

summery: a night of research leads to a confession

pairing: isaac lahey x reader

warning: fluff, mildest angst, implied smut???

A/N: my first time drabbling. i am a sucker for isaac, my damaged little baby.

You were hunched over your laptop researching this new creature that had walked into Beacon Hills. You were in Scott’s spare bedroom which, as of recently, was taken by Isaac Lahey, the newest hottie. You always did find Isaac attractive though and you knew something wasn't right with him. You just never talked to him since he would always hide in the corners. But now things are different.

You didn't realize when Isaac walked in. you had gotten used to being around him. He saw you on his bed with books and laptop surrounding you. Your forehead scrunched in concentration told him you were in your own world. He grabbed his towel and walked in the bathroom. When you came to take a break, Isaac walked out of the shower, in just his towel.

Now, you have had a crush on him for a while now. He did sort of save you from Erica during the full moon. Funny how he controlled his wolf just to protect you. You grew closer over time. You kept meeting him. First to thank him, then to help him get over his trauma every time he would remember his father. You used to visit the graveyard when you first saw Isaac being threatened and abused by his father. You wanted to help him but you knew it would only hurt him more.

You always saw him as a puppy. But he turned to a wolf. But he was still a puppy to you. A hot one now. As you stretched your hands above your head, your t-shirt rode up to show off your curvy waist. The situation painted was that you were staring at Isaac while he was staring at you. To a third person, the feelings looked mutual but you both were blissfully unaware.

He slowly walked to you. You were so lost in him that your brain cleared when you felt breathing on your face. You look up and immediately meet Isaac’s lips. His hand held your face and pulled it closer to him. The deepened kiss fuzzed your brain a little. You did kiss him back. You have wanted this for a while. You move your hand to his chest. You have wanted to touch him. You have always wanted to stroke your hand on his body and you do. You do exactly what you have always wanted.

But the timing of the towel ruins it. It falls and your eyes spring open. You turn away your face and jump off the bed. You walk to the study desk. “No no. You dont like me. I mean I don't mind kissing you for no reason but I still need a reason. I am not going to let you break my heart. I like you and I am not going to be one of those girls you would fawn over you.” You ramble on. You knew if anything happened you would confess but you didn't expect it to be so soon.

You feel his left hand wrap around your waist. You feel his front pressed on to your back. His other hand moves your hair away, exposing your neck to him. He started leaving feathery kisses all over your neck loosening you up. You fall back on him and let him pursue you.

“You are not some girl I want fawning over me. I want you. I like you. You are perfectly fine the way you are.” He lifts your chin and presses light kisses on your lips. “You.” Kiss. “Are.” Kiss. “The.” Kiss. “Only.” Kiss. “Girl.” Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Like.” Kiss.

You snake your hand around his neck and pull him closer. Your other hand lay on his hand on your waist. The deeper the kiss went, the more heated the atmosphere went. You finally turn around and sit on the desk with him between your legs. Your one hand ringed his hair while the other moved along the line of his chest down to his sweatpants. His hand stays on your face and your waist that he keeps pulling closer to him. The moans and heavy breathing fill the silent air in the room.

After what feels like hours, you pull away to breathe. Isaac lays his forehead against yours and smiles. You see his smile and a giggle pass your mouth. Soon the two of you are giggling and laughing at the situation. “So, we’re dating now?” Isaac asks. “Obviously.” You pull him into a kiss again.

#fanfiction #teen wolf #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #drabble

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arcane-vagabond · 3 months ago

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The Yawning Grave: Prologue

Pairing: Isaac Lahey x Reader

Summary: A trip to Scotland during the summer after your senior year of college was supposed to be filled with adventure and your weight in whiskey. However, after a night of chatting with a handsome stranger at a local pub, you're whisked away to a land filled with creatures your grandfather had warned you about long ago. Trapped in this world, you'll have to call upon that knowledge your grandfather imparted upon you, all while dealing with the same handsome stranger from that last night.

Content Warning: Mythology, Folktales, Fairytales, Mentions of absent parents, Fae mentions, Traveling. I think that's it, but please let me know if I've missed something!

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Grimms fairytales, the true versions, the ones with blood and magic and death taught lessons about the wicked ways of mankind. That’s what your father had always told you when he read them to you before bed. He taught you that there was always a lesson to be gained from the fantastic tales of goblins, giants, and evil witches. Don’t be too greedy. Don’t covet. Do unto others. You found comfort in these stories, knowing that the monsters in them were ones that every person faced, that every person strived to work against. More often than not, the heroes of the story prevailed by some means, earning a life of wealth and prosperity because of their actions.

It was your grandfather’s stories, however, that left you with a sickening feeling. Fairies were not small, dainty little people who made flowers bloom and troubles disappear. No, they were mischievous at best, causing problems for the common, hardworking people for their enjoyment. At their worst, they were malicious, vindictive creatures who sought retribution for perceived wrongs.

They were warnings.

“Never make a deal with the cunning folk,” your grandfather had warned you, his normally twinkling eyes solemn as they stared down at where you were tucked under the warm blankets. “Never give them your name. Once they have it, it’s theirs forever, and you can never get it back.”

“Why do they want my name, Grampa?” You asked, voice soft and eyes wide as you stared up at him, clutching the blankets tighter.

“Because, Puck,” he murmured, placing a gentle hand to the top of your head as he leaned in, as if to tell a secret, “having the name of something gives you power over it. Never give them your full name, but a nickname will do just fine. The wee folk can’t tell lies, you see, and they expect the same from you or me. Don’t give them your real name, but don’t give them a fake one either, or they’ll grow angry. A nickname should do just fine.”

“I thought fairies were supposed to be good?” You questioned, wrinkling your nose in confusion. The old man let out a chuckle, smiling at you warmly as the kindness returned to him.

“They can be, little Puck,” he amended, patting your head gently. “But best not to take the chance, agreed?”

Then he had placed a kiss to the top of your head and bid you a goodnight, leaving you to ponder his words as you drifted off to sleep, thoughts of dancing figures and jingling laughter flitting through your head.

Years passed from that moment, and you were now a young adult on the cusp of starting your official adult life. Exams had finished, and you had earned your degree, actively on the hunt for a job with several prospects. You toyed with the idea of taking a few months off to allow yourself time to breathe before undertaking the task of real adult responsibilities, which your parents assured you were much more demanding than the responsibilities you’d had in college.

“Finding a job is important,” your mother had said, “but you should take some time to enjoy being young. Take the summer, honey. There’ll be jobs waiting for you when you’re ready.”

The issue was further pressed when your friends Caroline and Brianna had invited you on a summer trip to Scotland.

“Oh, please, Puck?” Caroline begged, blue eyes wide and pleading as she grabbed your hands from across the table. “It won’t be as much fun without you there.”

“She’s right,” Brianna nodded, leaning into the blonde sitting across from you. “It’s all or nothing.”

“Are you two paying for my ticket?” You snorted, gazing between your two best friends. Caroline’s eyes lit up in a familiar twinkle that immediately had you shaking your head. “Nuh uh. No way. I’m not going to take advantage of you like that.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, flipping her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. “You know my parents won’t care. They’re too busy vacationing in Switzerland this summer to care what I’m doing with their money.”

You grimaced. You loved Caroline dearly, and you wonder every day how she didn’t end up as an out of touch rich kid, especially with how absent her parents seemed to be.

“If you’re taking advantage of her, then so am I, Puck,” Brianna smiled, wagging her brows at you. Brianna was a spunky brunette with an eye for numbers, having graduated alongside you and Caroline with a degree in engineering. “Besides, this’ll be our last chance to spend some time together before you move overseas and then we’ll never get to see you.”

That was also true. You had been accepted into the Medieval and Renaissance Studies program at the University College London and would be moving before the start of the new term. You chewed on your bottom lip, peering up to look between your two best friends. Caroline wore her pleading expression again while Brianna looked at you expectantly. You let out a sigh, watching as the two of them grinned at you, knowing they had won.

“Alright, fine.”

“I knew you wouldn’t turn down a free trip!” Caroline exclaimed, earning half-hearted glares from the other patrons in the small cafe. Paying them no mind, she pulled out her phone to start making plans.

“Alright, where do we want to go?”

Two weeks later, you stood on the platform in the highland town of Inverness, waiting for your friends to catch up with you with their luggage in hand. You were excited to see the rich history of the highlands with your own eyes, having convinced Caroline and Brianna almost immediately with their love for the show “Outlander,” and while you adored the show just as much, it was the history and the folklore you were after. The air was cool, but not cold as you stepped out into the square, taking in the stone buildings and the overcast sky. Above, seagulls cried out, eyeing the ground below for their next easy meal.

“Do you have the address for the hotel?” Asked Caroline as she rummaged through her bag beside you.

“Sure do,” you chirped, watching the different people walk along the streets as you waited for your app to load. Brianna let out a loud yawn beside you, rubbing at her eyes.

“How long have we been awake?” She grumbled, checking her phone with a weary blink of her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied, bouncing from one foot to the other in excitement. “We can’t go to sleep until later or we’ll be jetlagged the whole trip.”

Brianna mumbled something under her breath, but you paid her no mind, knowing how cranky she got when sleep deprived.

“I say we drop our stuff off at the hotel, get something to eat, and then pick a pub to spend the rest of the night in,” Caroline grinned from beside you. Brianna wrinkled her nose at the idea, but you bumped her shoulder with yours as you smiled.

“Come on, Bri,” you chuckled. “How often are we going to get to do this after this trip?”

She didn’t look convinced as the three of you made your way in the direction of the hotel, your suitcases clacking against the cobblestone beneath you.

“What if we let you sleep in as long as you want tomorrow?” Caroline suggested, earning a thoughtful look from the brunette. You sighed, wincing internally at Caroline’s suggestion. Brianna was known to sleep long and hard, and the three of you had reservations to go to.

“As long as you want without missing anything,” you amended, shooting a look at Caroline. Knowing she was outvoted, Brianna let out a heavy sigh.

“Alright, fine,” she relented. “But I get to pick where we get food.”

A/N: And we're off! I realize that this is an incredibly niche character from a fandom long past, but I'm excited for this! This will definitely be my little pet project to keep me writing, and I hope you guys stick around for the journey because this is another story that started out as an original fiction. If you've been around long enough, you'll know I love taking my original fiction ideas and turning them into fanfic to see how people receive them. But we're back in my Teen Wolf era, folks!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

#tyg #the yawning grave #fae!isaac #fae!au #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey x y/n #isaac lahey fanfiction #isaac lahey imagine

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takaraphoenix · 5 months ago

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London Calling

Tags: m/m, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Pack Feels, True Mates, Spark Stiles, fluff, hurt/comfort, grief/mourning, post Nogitsune, post canon, m/f

Main Pairing: Derek/Stiles

Side Pairings: Chris/Sheriff, Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Noah Stilinski

@writersmonth Prompts: passion + tattoo parlor

Summary: After graduation, Stiles decides to go with Lydia, who is heading to London, to be with her mate, Jackson, from whom she'd been separated for too long now. Stiles knows the Hale Pack has moved to London, reformed there. They know Lydia is coming, but they don't know about Stiles yet.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

London Calling

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

The first member of the Hale Pack to leave Beacon Hills had been Jackson, only weeks after he even became a member of the pack. His parents had packed up, uprooted the young beta and moved to London. The Hales had contacted a pack in London that Peter's father, Derek's grandfather, had been allied to and asked if they would keep an eye on Jackson.

That had happened before Cora even rejoined the Hale Pack, before she ever met her brother in his function as the new Alpha. Apparently, Jackson and Lydia's love and mate-bond had broken the kanima curse and they had been insufferable since then (though, according to Stiles, they had been insufferable before that too). Not that Cora saw a lot of them together, since Lydia was still living in Beacon Hills. But the mated pair made it work, with phone-calls and video-chats and by Lydia spending every single vacation in London to see Jackson (which were the times Cora had to endure them together and she had to admit that they were an exhausting couple).

When Cora joined the pack, she had first and foremost joined Erica and Boyd. The three of them had been bonded by trauma, by their captivity at the hands of the Alpha pack. The pack-bond forged between the three during these months was a strong one. It was what made Erica and Boyd stay in Beacon Hills and rejoin the Hale Pack, even though they'd first been captivated because they'd left the pack and had meant to leave Beacon Hills. And Cora herself, she… She couldn't say what would have happened if she hadn't formed these two strong bonds, because Peter and Derek had been total strangers to her, too much time had passed, they'd grown apart. But she stayed.

Well, she stayed, until they all left. Derek, Peter, Cora, Boyd and Erica. The remaining Hale Pack.

Scott claimed that Beacon Hills was too small for two packs, but Cora knew better. The real reason why Scott wanted them gone had been because Derek was growing more and more into a good Alpha, was learning how to lead and care. And there were three pack members who were with one foot in each pack. Lydia, whose mate-bond to Jackson did tie her to the Hale Pack. Isaac, who had been Derek's beta first and then grown apart from him during the months Erica and Boyd had been lost and had become Scott's beta, but who still held a tie to Derek, especially after Boyd and Erica were saved. And Stiles, Stiles whose fierce loyalty made it so he couldn't turn his back on the Hales even as his ties laid with his best friend and brother by anything but blood.

Derek's pack was stronger – Jackson, even in London, Peter and Cora, Boyd and Erica. While Scott had been a young Alpha, with barely a pack to speak of, and the majority of them with one foot in the Hale Pack. It was a power move, to strengthen his own claim and pack.

The tension between the two packs had steadily grown, but for too long, Derek refused to leave. Because he didn't want to leave his family's land, the last thing they had left of their family's legacy, and even more so, he didn't want to leave his mate. Even though he never told Stiles. In the end, Derek gave in. Because he didn't want to cause tension between Stiles and Scott, thought he was doing right by Stiles. So the Hale Pack left Beacon Hills for good, together.

The Hale Pack left, for London, because if they had to leave Beacon Hills, why not the place where one of their pack-mates was already living. And it was good. Cora actually liked it better than her return to Beacon Hills – because Beacon Hills was filled with memories and sadness and death and even more recently, the memory of her abduction and captivity and nearly dying when the darach had poisoned her. Beacon Hills was pain. London was a full, fresh new start. A place where the Hale Pack was allowed to grow and be happy. It hadn't been hard to convince Erica and Boyd's families to let them leave, after pulling some strings with the help of the London Pack to get them into a really good school. A little white lie about a scholarship and their parents were on board with it.

Things in Beacon Hills took a turn for the worse, because of course it did, it always did. All the more reason to leave it behind. Stiles got possessed by a demon. Not that they knew, at first. When Lydia called them in tears, she told them that Stiles was dying, of the same disease that had killed his mother. They returned to Beacon Hills, because he was Derek's mate, because he shared a similar trauma-bond with Erica and Boyd as Cora did, because he was pack.

He didn't die. He was possessed. A demon used his body to kill people. And though Stiles already had bonds with Erica and Boyd, that was when his bond with Jackson formed. Both having been used to kill against their will. They started texting, near daily. Cora knew. There was a special look on Jackson's face when he was texting Stiles.

When the Hale Pack had returned to London, Isaac had gone with them. After Allison's death, he couldn't stay. And seeing the Hale Pack again had reignited his bonds with them. He sought his family, his first pack, for comfort and companionship. Isaac found his place among the pack with ease, the change in scenery helped him heal.

And as graduation was growling closer and closer, the pack prepared for another member to move to them. Because Lydia had stayed in Beacon Hills for certain reasons, being a minor, still going to high school and having divorced parents who were trying to make up for neglect and failure of the past by being a bit overbearing now. Now that she was a legal adult and had graduated high school, she planned on joining their pack officially, to live with his mate.

Cora dreaded it a little to have those two be disgustingly in love all over the pack house every day, but she was happy for Jackson. Though she hadn't found her own mate yet, she knew how important and cherished True Mates were among wolves. Besides, gaining another pack-member would strengthen their pack further.

"It is funny to see Jackson clean," Erica pointed out, cackling.

She was holding her phone so she could take pictures of Jackson. Jackson glared at her and flipped her off before he returned to his task of cleaning the downstairs windows. Peter and Derek had bought a large, beautiful house near Hyde Park when they first got there. Gradually, over the past year that they'd lived here, it had turned into a proper home. Every member of the pack had their own room upstairs, and though some days Cora was annoyed by Jackson or Isaac or Derek, she also loved this feeling of pack, had missed this sense of family and community. Her pack in Mexico had been good, but… it had been different, it hadn't been family.

"Are you sending that to Lydia?" Isaac asked amused.

"No," Erica huffed. "She knows that Jackson is gonna do everything to make the place impressive and 'worthy' of her. I'm sending this to Stiles so he can get a laugh out of it."

Cora noted the tenseness to her brother's shoulders, at every mention of Stiles' name. Mates were meant to be together and though Lydia and Jackson had spent most of the past two years apart, their mate-bond had at least been sealed and Lydia regularly visited. Derek had never even told Stiles – there was always some kind of tragedy that got in the way, or them leaving, and he thought it would be unfair to tell Stiles, just to then leave, or worse yet, to make Stiles choose. Cora thought that was frustrating and stupid, but she also understood. Loss was the most formative thing in Derek's life and the thought of losing his mate, in any way, was too much to bear.

"Where is Stiles going to college anyway?" Cora asked after a moment.

She was probably the only one in the pack to not have regular contact with Stiles. Erica and Boyd had their bond from being captured and tortured by Gerard Argent and it had forged a deep friendship that stayed strong even as the two betas left. Jackson and Stiles, even though they hadn't been friends before Jackson left Beacon Hills, had formed a strong bond over the similar experiences of being the kanima and being possessed by the Nogitsune. Isaac and Stiles, having been in the McCall Pack together for so long, already had a pack-bond that didn't weaken even as Isaac moved to London. Even Peter was in regular contact with Stiles – Stiles was still working on translating the entirety of the Argent bestiary, while Peter was still adding onto the Hale bestiary and the two of them worked together on making it one big database. Cora had been in Beacon Hills for too short a time, too wrapped up in her own trauma and the revelation that two members of her family were still alive, to really make friends, but she liked to imagine that if things had been different, if she had gotten to spend more time with Stiles, she too would be friends with him.

"He hasn't decided yet," Jackson replied, scrubbing excessively on one spot. "Also, grab a damn rag and help, you losers. This is your house too, how the fuck is it ever clean at all."

"I have a maid come by once a week," Peter tagged on delighted.

Cora waved a hand. "What do you mean he hasn't decided yet, graduation is in a few days."

"He's taking a gap-year," this time it was Erica who replied, a small smile on her lips, though it was more sad than happy. "He kind of never really…"

"He never actually dealt with the possession," Jackson cut in, voice sharp, curt, filled with a restrained sense of rage and pain, a reflection of his own experiences with the kanima. "He pushed it down and he kept going, because he couldn't afford to take a couple months off to heal. Between school, which he didn't want to fail, and the McCall Pack literally being useless without him and Lyd, he dealt with it as best as he could while also dealing with a shit-ton of other stuff."

Cora hummed and she saw the pained look on Derek's face, the way her brother clenched his fists at his sides. Helplessness was never going to be a look she'd get used to seeing on his face. But this wasn't something Derek could fix, something Derek could protect his mate from. The pain had already happened and Stiles needed to fight through it. Healing was something only he could do.

"That sounds good," Isaac spoke softly, grabbing a rag and turning away from the pack. "I hope he gets out of Beacon Hills, even just for a while… I think that would help him."

Because it had helped him. It had helped him to get out of that cursed town. It had helped all of them, and Cora could see it in the faces of every member of her pack. She could see it in her own face. Getting out of Beacon Hills after the fire had allowed her to heal from the loss and leaving again, for London, had helped her move on from what the Alpha Pack and the darach had done.

She may not be close to Stiles, but she genuinely hoped that he'd find a way to get better.

/break\

The sheriff and Chris Argent went to the same grief group for widowers. Years ago, when Noah finally realized he had to sober up, he had to do better, be better, to be there for his son, for the family he still had, he had started going to these meetings. After Victoria's death, Noah had suggested the same to Chris. Ever since, the two went there together. They grew closer.

It was only after Allison's death that this closeness turned into something more, a friendship born from mutual support and a shared understanding of grief turned into the main pillar that kept Chris going after he lost his only child. Over the past two years, Chris had just lost too much. His sister, his wife, his father, now his daughter. He had nothing left, nobody left. Only the Stilinskis.

Not just the sheriff, but also Stiles. Because Allison's death had to mean something, he needed it to mean something, to have a purpose, to not have been in vein. She'd died when they all tried to save Stiles, so Chris? Chris needed Stiles to be safe. He needed Stiles to be safe, because his daughter had died to make sure Stiles would be safe.

For a long time, Stiles didn't understand that. He thought that Chris should hate him, should blame him for Allison's death. He'd yelled all of that at Chris, one evening, when Chris was over at the Stilinski home for dinner and him and the sheriff acted so unbearably normal and kind, in a manner that Stiles didn't deserve or understand. He yelled, and cried, and broke down.

How could they be so kind to him? How could Chris be kind to him? How could Chris even look at him? He couldn't even look at himself, all he saw in the mirror was the twisted sneer of the Nogitsune, all he saw was Allison's blood on his hands.

Chris had hugged him, hugged him and held him and... cried with him. Stiles didn't know how long the two sat on the kitchen floor, crying together. His dad had put dinner away into the fridge and given them some privacy, at one point, retreating to the living room.

"She died to save you," Chris had said, voice rough with tears. "We all fought to save you, Stiles. You didn't kill her, kid. A demon did, a demon that used you. You're... You're as much a victim of it as she was, but you survived and I need to... I need to cling onto that. That you survived, that she didn't die for nothing, that she... that we managed what we set out to do."

Stiles hadn't known what to say to that. So he just sat there and continued crying quietly, remembering every time Allison had smiled at him, joked with him, been his friend.

It took so much longer for Stiles to get... better. He wasn't good, he still wasn't good. He still had the nightmares, but they were more irregular these days. He still counted his fingers, by now a nervous habit really, just pressing his thumbs against each of his fingers one by one.

He got his first tattoo three months after the possession. After he sat down at the kitchen table with his dad and Chris, who at that point was over at the Stilinski home more often than he wasn't, and he told them that he still struggled with what was real. He counted his fingers, but it didn't always feel like enough. Reading, seeing that words were real, that helped.

He needed to carry words with him, wherever he went, so he could check, see if he could read them, know that he was awake. He wanted a tattoo. A simple phrase This is real, written out on his wrist. To make it more meaningful, he'd chosen his mother's handwriting – they had so many examples of it in her cookbooks and it wasn't hard to put the phrase together in her writing.

He was seventeen, couldn't get a tattoo without his dad's permission. But after hearing the reason behind it, the idea for it and how Stiles imagined the execution, his dad signed the permission for him to get the tattoo, because this wasn't a silly teen idea that Stiles would regret, this was something that helped him get better. And it did, it really did help, he could feel himself calming down much easier now that he could look at the words and know it was real.

He got his second tattoo three months after. Stiles... needed it. A silver arrow through his heart, with the Argents' family motto. We protect those who can't protect themselves. Because that was what they did, what they all did, that was what Allison had done when she had died. She'd tried to protect Stiles when he couldn't protect himself. His father had found it hard to deny Stiles this time either. Chris went to the tattoo parlor with Stiles and got a matching tattoo, to honor his daughter.

Both of those tattoos helped him. Grounded him.

His dad and Chris helped and grounded him too. Stiles could see the gradual shift in their relationship and one day, Chris simply stopped leaving. One day, Stiles came home and found the two men curled together on the couch, holding each other in a manner that was much more intimate than a hug between friends. One day, Chris just became a part of the Stilinski household.

While Stiles had his support at home, he slowly felt like he was losing the pack.

There were so many new people, people who had joined after the Nogitsune, people Scott had accepted into the pack. People Stiles didn't really have bonds with, people he… never cared enough to get to know, or who never really cared enough to get to know him. People who had no way of ever truly understanding, because they hadn't been there, hadn't lived through the things Stiles, Lydia, Scott, Allison and Isaac had gone through, had seen since the beginning. Even Malia and Kira understood more, had suffered through more with them. But those that came after, it… felt like a whole different pack, like there was a cut, a line drawn, and Stiles was on the other side.

His friendship with Scott wasn't what it used to be either, and maybe that factored into why Stiles didn't feel the same bond to the newer pack members. Though now, looking back, he wondered for just how long it had been like this. It wasn't just Allison's death that had broken something, their friendship had cracked long before. What truly broke it though was Theo, was how easily Scott let himself be manipulated by Theo. Believing Theo over Stiles, accusing Stiles of murdering Donovan, when it had been self-defense, not even asking for Stiles' side of the story, not believing Stiles. That night, those accusations, their friendship never recovered from.

On paper, he was still in the pack. Stiles still attended mandatory pack meetings, but he stuck to the background. He gradually offered less and less solutions, voiced less and less of his suspicions, because he wasn't being heard anyway. Neither him nor Scott really named it, the fact that Stiles wasn't really pack anymore, that they had grown apart. They simply… lived side by side.

Maybe he would have left, should have left, but Beacon Hills was where his dads were living, and he wanted to graduate here. He would bide his time until. And he wasn't all alone.

He still had Lydia, always had Lydia. The grief over losing Allison had brought them so much closer, even though, much like with Chris, Stiles had thought she should hate him.

Isaac left. He couldn't stay, after losing Allison, couldn't bear this place where his mother and brother had died, where his father had abused him, where he had now lost Allison. And Stiles understood. The blonde had ducked his head, looking guilty as he stood in Stiles' bedroom one night, telling him that he'd leave. But Stiles understood. He hugged Isaac and told him to say hi to the Hales, at which Isaac had looked at him in surprise.

Like Stiles didn't know where Isaac stood. With one foot in each pack. Isaac's relationship with Scott had been strained over his feelings for Allison already, but now with Allison's death, Isaac didn't feel like much was holding him here. Isaac had no reason not to follow his original pack.

There was a pang of longing in Stiles' heart at the thought.

Stiles imagined that having the Hale Pack back in Beacon Hills, even just for a short while, must have had a similar effect on Isaac as it did on Stiles. The Hales had come back, when they thought Stiles was dying. They had all hugged him and cried with him and he'd curled against Derek's chest, crying for an hour. But then Stiles survived and the demon was exorcised and the Hales all had a life in London – the betas all went to school, Peter and Derek had jobs. And so they'd left again.

The sense of longing was near physical, it ached in Stiles' chest.

His third tattoo was one that he got on his eighteenth birthday, without telling his dads first. Because he knew they both would disapprove of that one. He went back to the tattoo parlor and got a giant, beautifully detailed black fox on his back, curling around the symbol for self. It was a constant reminder, a manifestation of his guilt but also of his survival. A promise, both to himself and to Allison, that now that he was himself again he would be himself. However he was going to manage that, because he still struggled with it at times.

Graduation was coming up and Chris took him aside. Told him that he needed to live. At first, Stiles didn't understand, thought that he did. Allison had died, so Stiles had to live. Chris sighed.

"You're not living, kid," Chris said, voice rough and distant. "You're surviving. You have been surviving since the possession. I know there's a lot of trauma you've been working through, you kept your grades up through it all, you kept helping keep this town safe, but… that is all you do. You haven't lived since then. You keep your head down and you continue, but you don't start."

"I don't…" Stiles frowned at him in confusion.

"You haven't had a girlfriend since things between you and Malia ended, you haven't made any new friends, I know you keep your distance to the newer members of the pack, you… don't really spend time with anyone but Lydia, Malia and Kira anymore. You need to live, make new experiences, have fun, laugh, spend time with the people you love, fall in love."

Do all the things Allison would never get to do again, was left unsaid but both Stiles and Chris could feel it in their bones. He ducked his head and leaned into Chris, receiving a hug. Chris was right, Stiles hadn't really lived since Allison had died, he'd been so busy struggling to survive, he hadn't even had time to consider living yet. But now, he was doing better, he was on the right path.

"You need to leave this place," Chris whispered against his hair, still hugging him. "You need to get out before this city kills you too, and you need to find a place where you can be happy, kid."

Stiles tensed in his arms. Leaving Beacon Hills wasn't something he'd ever considered. This was his home, this was where his dad lived, worked, he couldn't leave. He was all his dad had… No, that wasn't true anymore. Blinking, he looked up at Chris. His dad wasn't alone anymore. There was someone who loved his dad, who watched out that his dad would eat healthy even when Stiles was busy. There was someone living in the Stilinski house, so his dad wasn't alone anymore.

"Chris is right, kiddo," Noah stepped into the kitchen, looking at them both with sad but loving eyes. "You aren't happy here, I haven't… I haven't seen you happy in a long time. I know your friends are all doing better, no longer living here, and maybe it will help you too. All I want for you is to be happy, kiddo. I'll be fine, don't let me hold you back."

Chris and Stiles opened their hug for Noah, allowing the sheriff to join them. They were right. He wasn't happy here and this place had been slowly killing him since the night Scott got bitten. Maybe it was time to leave before this town could finish him off.

/break\

The pack was buzzing with excitement as they were gathered at the airport, waiting for Lydia's arrival. This kind of energy, it made Derek feel... serene. His pack, together, all eagerly awaiting their newest member. They'd come a long way from the three teens he'd turned two years ago, from the in-fighting when Scott had briefly joined the pack, the strain of turning Jackson and him leaving Beacon Hills near immediately, the tension when Boyd and Erica had been returned and how awkward things had been when Cora first joined the pack.

Moving to London had been the right call. They were happier here. They were happy here. They had the chance to fully grow into a pack, to form deep, meaningful pack-bonds.

And Derek was eager himself, for Lydia to properly join his pack. Ever since Derek had relocated the pack to London, she had become more and more a member of this pack. With every visit to London, to be with her mate, with every video-call between Jackson and Lydia that Erica and Cora and later on Isaac and occasionally even Boyd would butt in. She had been forming pack-bonds with them all for months now. And still, when she actually called him, told him that she wanted to leave Beacon Hills behind and had applied to a university in London so she could be with Jackson and then formally asked Derek if he would accept her into his pack, that had meant a lot to him.

He was an Alpha whom betas chose. Boyd and Erica chose to rejoin the pack, after they'd been saved from the Alpha Pack. Cora had chosen not to leave for Mexico again. Jackson had chosen to be with their pack, even though he could have stayed with the local pack that had kept an eye on him until the Hale Pack moved to London. Jackson and Lydia, together, could have chosen to leave for a different place entirely. Isaac chose to come to them, after Allison's death.

He had a strong, happy, good pack. He was... happy. A feeling he still sometimes struggled with, the survivor's guilt usually made him remember Laura and their family, those he had lost. But he'd been working with a therapist on this, on the fact that he deserved to live, to be happy.

There was still a hole in his chest, a Stiles-shaped hole that left an ache in his heart, but he was going to fix it, he was finally going to move forward. He'd never dared to tell Stiles that they were mates. At first, because he thought the teen was mostly annoying and the age-difference mortified him. But the more often Stiles saved his life, the more Stiles proved himself to be strong and fierce and loyal, the more Derek could see why fate had chosen him as Derek's mate.

However, at that point, something seemed to always get in the way. After Scott and Stiles officially joined his pack, Derek had been overjoyed and was readying himself to actually tell Stiles. And then Scott had betrayed Derek's trust, left his pack after using him like a weapon, a tool, in his plan against Gerard Argent. And with Scott, Stiles left the pack too. Derek spent months bitter, deliberately not telling Stiles because he'd felt betrayed by his mate too.

While the Alpha Pack and the darach attacked, him and Stiles grew closer again. When Derek finally learned that Stiles had had no hand in Scott's plans against Gerard, that Stiles hadn't approved of it – that Stiles and Scott even had a fight about it – it was already too late. Scott was a True Alpha and the two packs in the small town were edging on, until Derek conceded and left.

Too many bad memories, too much loss. He wasn't ready to risk his pack in an actual fight against Scott's pack, if it came to that. And the longer they coexisted, the more it felt like that was where things were headed. A fresh start, somewhere new, maybe it'd help them all, was what he'd thought.

With no concrete destination otherwise, he decided to follow his first beta. He'd never gotten the chance to be a proper Alpha to Jackson before Jackson had left. He was glad that the local packs – London was a big city, it housed multiple packs who peacefully coexisted and even had alliances between them – all welcomed them with open arms.

Derek had thought it unfair to tell Stiles just as they were leaving and he saw no point in telling Stiles with the pack living in London, he'd never want to make Stiles feel like he had to choose, between his home where his dad and Scott and all his friends lived, and Derek.

When they returned to Beacon Hills, when they thought Stiles was dying – and Derek's wolf still curled together in pain at the memory of that feeling, at the memory of how small and fragile and exhausted Stiles had been in that hospital – Derek wanted to tell him. He didn't want to lose Stiles without Stiles ever knowing how much he meant to Derek. Before he had the chance to, did they realize that Stiles wasn't dying, not of a human sickness anyway. He was possessed.

After that, with the trauma Stiles had suffered, with the loss of Allison hanging heavily over their heads, it had felt selfish to tell Stiles the truth. He had so much to deal with, he shouldn't have to deal with Derek's feelings, on top of everything else.

And so Derek and his pack had left once more, returning to London. Words left unspoken.

Things were changing though. Lydia was joining their pack, because the betas had graduated high school. Stiles was eighteen now, which had also been part of why Derek kept looking for excuses not to tell Stiles. He never wanted to be like Kate, he never wanted to be unsure if he was coercing Stiles, because Stiles had been young and might feel like he was obligated to do anything just because of a mate-bond he couldn't feel to its full extend – yes, humans could feel the mate-bond, but to a werewolf, it was different, it was so much stronger.

Now, Stiles was a legal adult, he had graduated high school, both of them were in a better place, having worked through at least parts of their respective trauma. Once Lydia was properly settled in, Derek planned on traveling to Beacon Hills to see Stiles and finally tell him.

"Lydia!" Jackson's entire face lit up when he saw his mate.

She grinned and ran up to him, jumping into his arms to be whirled around by Jackson. They kissed, slow and deep and entirely getting inappropriate for the public. Derek cleared his throat, looking away. He understood, they'd last seen each other during spring break. They were mates, they shouldn't be kept apart. It made Derek feel warm, a pleasant sense of comfort at the thought that the two would get to be together now. That his betas would get to be with their mate.

"Put. Her. Down," Erica growled, shoving Jackson. "Share."

Jackson growled back but he still put his mate down so the other betas could get to scent mark and greet her too. Now that she was pack, she needed to smell like pack. Derek smiled to himself, standing back together with Peter and waiting for the pups to get their fill first.

"You smell like Stiles," Isaac noted as he nuzzled Lydia's neck. "Is that the surprise you said you'd bring for the pack? Did you scent-mark Stiles before you came so we can have some Stiles?"

The smile on Derek's lips turned a little softer as he watched Boyd shove his own mate away, not without Erica growling in protest, so he could also scent-mark Lydia and smell Stiles on her. Before coming, Lydia had called Jackson and ominously said she had a surprise for the pack. Derek crossed his arms tightly, trying to keep himself from going to Lydia and pushing the betas out of the way so he could inhale every last trace of his mate on his new pack-member.

"Not exactly. If you want more au de Stiles, she brought you the source."

The pack froze in place – which, in the case of the betas was somewhat a hilarious image, because Boyd was curled against Lydia's back, while Erica and Isaac were in the middle of shoving each other to get the left side of Lydia's neck, Cora nuzzling her cheek against Lydia's right cheek, Jackson in the middle of kissing Lydia. All pausing like some kind of statue. Though Derek couldn't blame them, he was holding his breath too, eyes widening at the sound of that voice. He turned.

Coming up behind Lydia, pushing the cart with so many bags and suitcases, it looked like Lydia had decided to bring all of her belongings onto this flight already, was Stiles. Stiles stopped the cart and stepped around it, aiming a carefree grin at the pack. He was real, this was really Stiles. Wearing skinny-jeans and a blood-red hoodie. His hair was a little longer than the last time Derek had seen him. He looked good, really good. Not so sickly pale anymore, the deep bags beneath his eyes were gone, his cheeks not as hollowed out. Healthy. He looked healthy again, no longer made to believe he was going to die, no longer possessed, but rather recovering. He was beautiful, he was everything, he was right here, in London, just a few meters away from Derek.

"Stiles!" Erica yelled, her voice pitching, before she launched herself at him.

Isaac growled, hot on her heels and also attaching himself to Stiles. Boyd grabbed Isaac by the waist to lift him out of the way so he could get a Stiles hug first. Stiles just laughed, a bright and beautiful sound, as he was being wrapped up by the Hale Pack's three original betas. With a heavy sigh did Lydia smack Jackson's arm to give him the go-ahead and the next moment, Jackson was also nosing Stiles' neck. Lydia used the opportunity to give Cora a proper hug.

"You brought us Stiles," Isaac grinned at Lydia from where he was resting his chin on Stiles' head.

"Can we keep him?" Erica turned large, pleading eyes and a pout on Derek. "Ple—ease, I promise I'll feed him and take him on walks."

"Brats," Stiles heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Okay, okay, enough scent-marking the Stiles in public, people are starting to stare, I feel like they think I have a harem, off, puppies."

Once the betas were all pushed off, Stiles took a tentative step toward Derek, a soft half-smile on his lips as he waved. "Hey, Sourwolf. Miss me?"

Miss me? Derek choked on the emotions bubbling up in him. Missing didn't even begin to cover what Derek had felt. Pure, raw yearning, a longing so overwhelming he was drowning in it. Until this very moment, he hadn't realized just how bad it really was. It had been easier to push down and ignore while he could focus on his pack. Seeing Stiles like this? So close? Close enough that Derek could smell him? It hit him like running head-first into a brick-wall.

With a deep growl rumbling in his chest did Derek stride forward, until Stiles was right in front of him. Those big, warm doe-eyes stared up at him in surprise when Stiles got wrapped up in the Alpha's arms and pulled into a tight, all-consuming hug. The rumbling grew softer, more pleased and content, as Derek buried his nose in Stiles' neck, rubbing it. More content rumbling when his mate readily bared his throat for better access. A small laugh escaped Stiles, his fingers entangling in Derek's shirt, holding onto him too, returning the hug.

"Yeah," Stiles' voice cracked a little. "I missed you too."

"I do think that was enough PDA overall, how about you bring us to the pack house?" Lydia piped up. "We had a dreadfully long flight with even more dreadful food. I need a shower and dinner."

"Actually, seconded," Stiles turned a bit in Derek's arms, regarding the betas. "Uhm. Sourwolf? You would have to let me go so we can leave."

Oh, Derek hated that idea. He would prefer to stand here for another hour or two, simply holding his mate, soaking in that unique scent of honey, chili and lightning. Huffing softly, Stiles gave him a light shove, at which the Alpha reluctantly let go of his mate.

"It's good to see you again, Stiles," Peter said, resting a hand in Stiles' neck. "You look good."

Stiles let him, leaning into the touch some, still grinning. "I feel good."

The betas went to get Lydia and Stiles' luggage – Stiles had luggage, Stiles was here. The only reason Derek had been able to let go of his mate was because he would get to take Stiles home with him, get Stiles into the pack house for the first time, get the pack house to smell like Stiles.

Once in the parking deck, Peter clapped his hands once and turned to stare at the betas expectantly. "Everyone, into the SUVs. No, not everybody can drive with Stiles."

Cora was the first one to willingly get into Peter's SUV, having the least connection to Stiles. Lydia and Jackson joined her, getting into the backseats, mostly because Lydia had gotten to spend so much time with Stiles already and Jackson primarily wanted to be with his mate right now. Derek got into his own car, watching Isaac climb into the passenger seat and smiling a little when Stiles ended up sandwiched between Boyd and Erica, the mated pair rubbing against Stiles from either side. Those three had had a profound bond ever since the basement. Derek's grip on the steering wheel tightened at that thought, the thought of Gerard torturing his betas and his human mate.

"So—o tired," Stiles groaned and leaned his head against Boyd's shoulder. "There was a screaming toddler sitting in the row behind me… Ple—ease tell me your pack house is actually big enough to have a guest room I can crash in because… I had considered calling ahead to ask if I can crash with you, but then I thought a surprise would be much more fun. Lydia said you would have room for me and it wouldn't be a problem, but now that I'm actually here-"

"There will always be room for you," Derek interrupted him lowly.

"Cheesy," Stiles looked utterly pleased. "Awesome. Oh. Oh, you guys totally have to show me around, I've never been to London. I mean. I've never been anywhere aside from Poland."

"You've been to Poland?" Erica asked, dragging her nose over his collarbone.

"Well, not in… a long time," Stiles' smile turned a bit sad. "I went when I was little, with my mom, to visit her family. My grandpa, my actual name sake."

"Mitch-is-love," Isaac dragged it out, the sounds heavy and awkward.

"So close and yet so far," Stiles gave a startled laugh. "You know, it used to bother me, hearing people try and butcher my name, but… it's kind of endearing with you guys. You try."

"It's more of a whaff than a love," Boyd corrected Isaac after a moment.

Stiles hummed, looking so happy as he melted between Boyd and Erica, who were both holding hands on top of Stiles' lap. Derek's heart felt full and warm when he looked at his betas and his mate, all content and together. That hole in his chest, it was slowly filling.

"We're here," Isaac announced when they pulled into their driveway.

"Wow," Stiles whispered in awe, staring at the Hale Villa. "Okay. Lyds was not exaggerating. Damn. It pays to have a Sugar Alpha, huh, guys."

Erica made gagging noises. "Don't ever call him that again or I will throw up."

She shoved Stiles, just making him laugh. As soon as they got out of the car did Derek practically herd Stiles into the house, earning a very amused look from the human. Where did he want Stiles first? Bed. No. Not a realistic place to get Stiles to go. Not yet. But now that he was here, Derek could tell him, could start courting him, could… ask the impossible question. Give Stiles a choice. Because it wasn't about making Stiles choose, it was about giving Stiles a choice.

"Want me in the living room?" Stiles guessed, a knowing smile on his lips. "Make the den smell more like me and give the betas more time to smother me. Sorry, 'scent mark' me."

Derek gave an affirmative grunt. That was part of what he loved the most about Stiles. Stiles understood Derek, understood him but also his culture. Stiles had always done his research, learned about werewolves and even when he lacked the natural instincts, he never acted like what the wolves did was weird, he accepted it, embraced it, even reciprocated it. Scent-marking them back, without anyone having to explain to him what it was. He knew, he accepted, he understood.

"Stilinski," Jackson grunted as he caught up to them and wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist to pull him close. "The fuck did you not say that you were coming, you asshole."

"Missed you too, Jackass," Stiles laughed, leaning his bead back against Jackson's chest. "It's called a surprise and telling the other party kinda ruins the purpose."

"So you're spending your gap-year traveling then?" Boyd asked curiously. "Made us the first stop?"

The look on Stiles' face turned a little more sober and maybe even an edge of nervous. "No."

Jackson growled a little. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but… use more words, Stilinski."

Stiles wiggled free of the beta and turned to look at Derek, searching the Alpha's face. What for, Derek couldn't guess, but he liked having Stiles' attention. And he liked the way Stiles looked standing in his living room, like he belonged right here, surrounded by the betas.

"Well, that depends on your glorious Alpha," Stiles' grin turned mischievous as he tilted his head, baring his throat to Derek. "Alpha Hale, I, Mieczysław Stilinski, formally ask to join your pack."

The growl ripped from Derek's throat was such a deep, primal sound that it shook the room, his eyes flashing. It wasn't even a conscious decision to step up to Stiles. One second, he was at the other side of the room, the next he had Stiles pinned against the wall, his mouth on Stiles' bared throat. His lips parted, but before he allowed his teeth to scratch soft skin, he paused.

"Stiles-" Derek whispered. "You can't be in two packs. Not fully."

"I know," Stiles' voice broke a little. "I choose you. You're my Alpha, Derek."

What little restrain he had vanished at those words, Derek's wolf taking over as he sank blunt human teeth into soft skin. A soft noise was drawn from Stiles as Derek marked him as pack. There were questions, a hundred questions running through Derek's mind, but all that mattered in that moment was that Stiles was his. Part of his pack, fully, officially, willingly.

"What… just happened," Isaac grunted, blinking slowly. "I mean, I know what happened, but… You left Scott's pack? You? And you're here to stay? For… good?"

"What about your dad?" Erica asked concerned.

Derek pulled away from Stiles, with much difficulty. Now that he was pack, Derek's wolf just wanted to drag Stiles upstairs and make their den smell like their mate. But these were questions that he needed answered too. He'd just claimed Stiles as Hale Pack, which… he had never thought he would get to do, not even if he ever got to claim Stiles as his mate. His unwavering loyalty was what had gotten him dragged into the supernatural to begin with. This had always been the Scott and Stiles Show, everyone else was just on the outside.

"My dads are fine," Stiles chuckled and went to sit on the couch, between Isaac and Jackson. "Two's company, as they say. I… never thought I'd be able to leave Beacon Hills because someone had to take care of my dad, but… now someone is. Chris is watching dad's died like a hawk. Honestly, he might actually worse than me, it's kind of funny. But yeah, I'm… not leaving him alone. And, to be honest, it was kind of Chris who told me to get out of Beacon Hills, to… live, instead of just surviving. Chase my own happiness or something like that."

"And your happiness… led you here?" Isaac's voice was unusually small, filled with hope.

The look on Stiles' face turned more sad as he tilted his head down to stare at his hands, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers linked between them. There was something heavy there.

"I… never wanted to leave the Hale Pack," Stiles whispered. "I left because Scott left. And then Scott became a True Alpha and… But things are different now."

"How," Cora's voice had an edge to it. "How is it so easy to turn your back on your Alpha and your pack, now. Everyone always talks like your loyalty is your biggest plus point."

Derek gave a low warning growl at his sister, but Stiles simply laughed. Shallow and empty.

"Loyalty can break your neck if it's misplaced," Stiles shrugged and looked up, looked at Cora. "I've been training to be an Emissary for one and a half years now. When I started, I was… so sure… that it would be so I could become Scott's Emissary. But at no point did he ask me. I just assumed, it seemed obvious to me – and to everyone else. But he never asked me, he still got Deaton. I used to be Scott's right hand. And then this guy comes into our lives and it's so easy for him to gain Scott's trust and friendship and manipulate him. I'm not Scott's right hand and I'm not his Emissary and… I haven't really been pack, in a while."

Stiles turned his head, no longer looking at any of them, instead fixating a spot on the ground. "Maybe I would have become his Emissary, maybe I would still be his right hand, but… He can hardly look at me anymore, even when he's trying, and he is trying, but… we've never been the same after Allison's death, we've been growing more and more apart and…"

"He's blaming you for Allison's death?" Jackson growled, eyes flashing blue. "I'm gonna kill him."

The twist of Stiles' lips was hardly a smile. Derek noticed the way Stiles was pressing his thumbs against the pads of his other fingers one by one, over and over again. It made Derek's heart sink. He knew this was a habit Stiles had picked up with the possession. Counting his fingers to ground himself, to remind himself that what was happening was real, that he was awake.

"I don't fault him for that," Stiles whispered. "Can't fault him for that. I did kill her."

"Stiles-" Lydia's voice was pained but also exhausted, like she'd had this conversation a lot.

"I did," Stiles shrugged and looked up at her with tired, broken eyes. "I didn't want to, but… I remember it, and I will forever remember it. The fact that I didn't want to doesn't undo it and it won't let me forget it either. I understand the distinction, Lyds. I know I didn't kill her, in the ways that matter, but… I still remember it like I did. I'm doing better now, I've mostly made my peace with it, but I still sometimes see her blood on my hands and… I can't blame Scott for also seeing it. She was his mate and I killed her and it's a miracle we had any semblance of a relationship left after. But I can't live like that anymore. I can't live in a pack with mostly strangers and with a best friend who can barely look at me, I can't live filled with all the memories of the people it hurt while using my body. Chris is right. I've been surviving, I've been treading water to keep above the surface somehow and to keep breathing, but it's time I just… get out of the water. Before I drown."

"So..." Derek's voice wavered. "So you're really here to stay? With us?"

With me? A voice in Derek's head whispered and screamed at the same time, the pull to his mate overwhelmingly strong now that there was a pulsing pack-bond alongside their unsealed mate-bond.

"If you'll have me," Stiles tilted his head with a small grin, showing off the bite on his neck. "Though, I guess now's too late for you to back out. You're stuck with me."

Seeing his mark on Stiles like that, seeing Stiles show it off like that, it did things to Derek, things that went far beyond love, desire or passion. It was a raw, burning fire at the core of his soul and it felt like it was consuming all of him. Yet at the same time he wasn't scared, he was embracing it, letting it warm him.

"Finally!" Erica yelped and threw herself at Stiles. "Always knew you belonged with us, Batman."

"Oh, you have no idea," Stiles muttered beneath his breath, amused.

Muttering was pretty pointless in a room with werewolves though. Curious looks were aimed Stiles' way and a near bashful smile spread over his lips as he ruffled his hair. His cheeks had a red tint to them that Derek found himself appreciating more than he should.

"I have this theory. About why Scott never asked me to be his Emissary," Stiles explained, fidgeting a little and not looking at Derek. "I mean, beyond the way Deaton lives in his head rent-free. My magic... My magic first manifested when I was part of the Hale Pack, the first time I used it, Derek was my Alpha. I think that maybe a subconscious part of Scott's wolf rejects my magic because it's linked to the Hale Pack."

"Fascinating," Peter sounded far too intrigued. "Perhaps Derek's wolf has had a similar, opposite reaction. Considering we've been living in London as an established and respected pack for well over a year now and still don't have an Emissary."

Derek gave a low warning growl. He'd never done that on purpose. It wasn't like he at any point realistically expected for Stiles to move here, so he hadn't kept the position open with the intention of making Stiles his Emissary.

"It's okay," Stiles shook his head. "I didn't come here for that. I came here to join the pack. Besides, you guys... never really... saw my magic, I mean, I mostly started training it when you already left. Let me stick around for a while and prove myself before you even bring that up, mh?"

"Stiles, you really don't have to prove yourself, to any of us," Boyd noted, raising one eyebrow. "I, very confidently, speak for the whole pack there."

The others made noises of agreement and Stiles flushed again, a pleased look on his face. It was Lydia clearing her throat that drew the attention away from Stiles, for which he seemed grateful.

"I was the one who came here to join the pack, you know."

Lydia gave Derek a look for having been ignored, though it was half-hearted at best because she knew how much the pack had missed Stiles and what a huge, positive surprise this was for them all. Still, the Alpha couldn't help but rub his neck sheepishly at having ignored his newest pack-member. Lydia offered him a small, reassuring smile, before she bared her throat to him.

"Alpha Hale, I, Lydia Martin, formally ask to join the Hale Pack."

Derek's eyes flashed on instinct and he approached her to gently bite her neck too. Another pack-bond snapped into place and filled him with warmth. His. They were now his, his pack.

"How about we get you guys settled in?" Cora suggested after a moment. "There was talk about showers and food. I'll show you an empty room, Stiles, and you two can shower and unpack while we organize some food."

Stiles gave a sharp nod. "That sounds perfect."

/break\

Before he had left Beacon Hills for good, he had done four things. He'd hugged his dads, very tight and very long with many manly tears being shed. He'd gone to the cemetery and visited the graves of his mother and Allison, leaving flowers (he also went to the Hale mausoleum and left flowers there too, he always did when visiting the cemetery). He'd gone to Scott and said his final goodbye to his best friend, officially leaving the pack (there was pain in Scott's eyes but also understanding. They both knew they weren't what they used to be). And he'd gone to his trusted tattoo parlor to get one last tattoo in Beacon Hills.

Their first night as members of the Hale Pack, Lydia and Stiles got treated to an obscene amount of pizza (Stiles had tipped the delivery guy fifty bucks for the hard work of carrying thirty pizzas. He took the money out of Peter's wallet though, so there was that). After, the pack had cuddled up in the very cozy den for a pack pile. That was something Stiles had desperately longed for. The McCall Pack never really did that, Scott still fought too much against his own wolfly instincts. Stiles fell asleep with his head on Boyd's chest, his arms around Isaac and Erica spooning him from behind and he had slept better than in months.

The pack was more than enthusiastic to show him around – Lydia had already gotten various tours during her regular stays, but she was more than happy to play additional tour-guide for Stiles and they both enjoyed the bonding experience with their new pack.

They'd been in London for about a week now and Stiles felt... at home. He'd missed them all so much. When he walked out of his room – his room – and downstairs, he found Boyd and Erica snuggled together on the couch, Erica curled together on her mate's chest, napping instead of fully waking up, denying the day its claim on her just yet. Boyd was running his fingers through her hair, gentle and loving and looking fully content just staring at his sleepy mate.

Isaac sat curled together on the arm-chair next to them, a bowl of cereal on his lap that was most likely 95% sugar, while he watched some cartoon. The beta turned toward Stiles to smile and nod at him in greeting when he noticed.

Reaching the kitchen made Stiles smile. While the pack had an actual chores wheel and was very much behind everyone doing their share, it was apparently mostly Derek who cooked. Stepping up to the Alpha, Stiles brushed his arm against Derek's before taking over the pancakes, since Derek seemed busy with the scrambled eggs. Cooking for a pack of hungry wolves was no small feat.

"You don't have to help," Derek mumbled, eyeing him. "I'm fine here."

"As much as I enjoy being spoiled by your cooking, and I totally am, I'm also used to being the only one who does the cooking," Stiles offered a grin. "So, unless you actually mind, I'd like to help."

A grunt. The affirmative, soft kind. Stiles had missed being able to dissect Derek's grunts and growls and his eyebrows. The grunts and growls translated into phone-calls but the eyebrow language, now that he hadn't gotten to watch in far too long.

"What are you going to do now?" Derek asked after a stretch of companionable silence. "You're not meant to just sit around and do nothing. I think you may actually implode."

"First of all, rude," Stiles huffed and hip-checked Derek with a mild glare. "Second of all... true. I... Honestly, I don't know. I'm not ready for college yet, as much as I love learning, I really do think that I need some... time to myself. Also to get used to this place. I want to learn everything about London, its supernatural history and present. Meet all the local packs and Emissaries, I'm dying to know if there's another Spark in London."

"There is," Derek offered. "The Haynes Pack's Emissary, Marge Cotton, is the Spark of London."

Stiles perked up, visibly so. He'd never actually met another Spark, since they were pretty rare nowadays. Magic users, inherently linked to nature, fueled by it. Usually tied to the land. He'd gotten his magic from the Nemeton of Beacon Hills and he would forever be the Spark of Beacon Hills. But then, to him, Derek would forever be the Alpha of Beacon Hills, so he supposed it was okay if they lived in London for now. One day, they would return home. Together.

"What's for breakfast? O—Oh, is Stiles making pancakes?" Erica asked, sniffing the air.

"How could you possibly know that I'm making the pancakes."

"Cinnamon," Isaac, Boyd and Erica all replied right away.

"You put a dash of cinnamon into the batter, it's a distinct smell," added Jackson gruffly.

He looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep once again (him and Lydia were… very busy catching up). Once he reached Stiles, he gently nuzzled against him. Scent-marking. It was ridiculous how much Stiles enjoyed that, enjoyed the casual comfort and touch between the pack.

"How about you guys do something too? Lazy puppies. Set the table, squeeze some oranges, I want fresh juice to go with those pancakes. Shoo. Be useful."

Peter came next, making a beeline to the coffee maker. Which suited Stiles just fine, honestly, in this household, Peter was the only one who seemed to know how to actually use that. Whatever Erica did with it was absolutely not coffee. Isaac only drank hot chocolate. Jackson preferred going out to buy coffee in coffee shops. Boyd only drank tea. And the Hale siblings? Stiles was pretty sure they would drink the most bitter brew possible without flinching. Heathens, the lot of them.

As Derek and Stiles finished up breakfast, the kitchen got much more lively. So much bumping into each other as everyone tried to put one more thing onto the table – milk was missing, where was the butter, there needed to be jam had anyone seen the strawberry jam, why was there no syrup? That last one was what got Stiles, in the end. Erica bumped into him on her way to get the bacon, causing him to stumble back into Isaac, who elbowed Jackson, who lost his balance and spilled the syrup all over Stiles. All Stiles could do was blink and stare down at himself, dripping maple syrup everywhere, before he started laughing. Okay, yeah, he had missed this. This sense of family.

"I am going to get changed, I guess."

"You are going to drip syrup all over the floor," Peter gave him a look of disdain.

"He's right," Lydia's face matched Peter's. "Just, take your shirt off and put it in the sink for now, rinse it out in there later."

Stiles grunted his confirmation. That was a better idea than leaving a trail of syrup all over the place. Turning his back on the pack so he was facing the sink, he pulled his shirt off and put it in. Gasps and growls of varying degrees sounded behind him and oh. Right.

"Stiles-" Derek's voice never sounded more wrecked and Stiles didn't know what to do with that.

"Ri—ight," Stiles cleared his throat, rubbing his neck.

"Why would you get that as a tattoo," Cora asked startled.

Stiles braced himself against the sink. Knowing their eyes were on his back tattoo, on the large black fox sitting on it, staring at them right now. He frowned as he considered how to explain it.

"As a physical reminder of what I overcame," Stiles offered after a long silence. "This wasn't like a physical attack that I carried a scar from. It just… Sometimes, in the happy and carefree moments, it nearly feels like it never happened and that frightens me. I needed… I needed a physical reminder that it did happen, and that I survived. That I was stronger than him."

Silence again, but this one loaded with emotions. He could feel it through the pack-bonds. Not pity, but compassion and understanding – maybe not understanding in the sense that they could relate, but that they understood why he needed it. Stiles heaved a sigh.

"Never took you for someone to get a tattoo, at all," Isaac offered softly, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Stiles' voice was a little shaky while he started scrubbing at his shirt. "The first one I got like three months after… after the possession. It's on my wrist. Just… a sentence. To remind me that I'm awake. That this is real. Because finger counting wasn't working and I wasn't always around posters or books… It helped. Helps, still. That I can look at my wrist and read words, know that I am awake because I can read them."

And silence again. He could feel pain through the pack-bonds. Pain on his behalf. Not pity, but sorrow. Frowning, he scrubbed a little harder, not ready to face them to see the looks on their faces.

"I have two more," Stiles offered, because why not. "I got a silver arrow, with the Argent family motto that Allison came up with. Actually, Chris and I got matching tattoos of that."

The compassion and sadness through the bonds was getting suffocating and yet he appreciated it too because they weren't judging him. They knew that this was part of his healing process and they respected that, even if they couldn't relate to it themselves.

"You said four," Lydia spoke up after a moment and he could hear the frown. "I knew about those three. But only those. When did you get a fourth tattoo, Stiles."

Ah. Stiles grinned to himself as he turned around. "Not long before we left Beacon Hills. I figured, the others are all… tied to the past. It's time to look into the future."

Stiles actually startled a little when Derek growled, eyes flashing red. It put a flush on Stiles' cheeks. When he blinked, Derek was all of a sudden right in front of him. Stiles swallowed hard, because Derek was only a breath away and a large hand curled around Stiles' hip, just on top of the triskelion settled on his hip-bone. His heart jumped at the touch, the warmth.

"Mine," Derek whispered, yet that whisper was so forceful it vibrated in Stiles' heart.

A crooked, pleased grin spread over Stiles' lips as he tilted his head and rested a hand atop Derek's. "So, you finally ready to talk about the fact that I'm your mate, then?"

Startled gasps. Not because this was new information to them. Werewolves could smell mate-bonds on mated pairs, Stiles knew that. There was no way the pack didn't know. Derek was staring at him with wide, near fearful eyes, before backing off. A disappointed sigh escaped Stiles at that.

"C'mon, Sourwolf," Stiles' voice had a pleading edge. "I followed you all the way to England. I'm done waiting for you to figure out how to use your words."

"How…" Derek swallowed hard. "How did you figure it out, I…"

"Was being super obvious in your pining?" Stiles raised both eyebrows. "But also, like… I'm magic. I am a supernatural creature too. I can feel the mate-bond myself. Has… that not occurred to you? That me not being human might mean I might also feel the bond?"

Derek flushed at the pining comment, which looked too cute on the Alpha. But, seriously. Derek had gone from wanting to rip Stiles' throat out every time Stiles opened his mouth to being unbearably patient with Stiles even during stressful situations. They'd saved each other's lives so often. It had hurt, at first, when Derek had left, but Stiles also understood why the Hales wanted to leave Beacon Hills behind. Part of him just wished Derek had asked him to come with them. Yet another part of him was grateful Derek hadn't, because Stiles genuinely didn't know how he could have chosen between his mate and his dad. Now, he didn't have to choose anymore. Taking a step toward Derek, Stiles grabbed the Alpha's hand, pulling him closer.

"I get it," Stiles spoke softly. "We were stumbling from one disaster into the next, trauma after trauma, there was never really… time. But now there is. I'm here, you're here. I want…"

Stiles paused, suddenly feeling breathless with the force of emotions he was experiencing. "I want to be happy. I want to live and move on and I want to do all of that with you, Derek."

Lifting his free hand, he rested it on Derek's cheek, gently. The Alpha nuzzled into it, closing his eyes. Leaning in, feeling bolt, Stiles pressed a fleeting kiss against Derek's lips.

"I love you, Sourwolf," Stiles whispered. "And I'm done stepping back, letting my own life and the things I want take a backseat to what others may need or want from me. I want. I want you."

He spoke with all the love and passion he felt for the Alpha and he pushed as much of it through their bond. Bonds. The pack-bond, vibrating warm and gentle next to their mate-bond, a strong, thick tendril of sparkly red that pulsed with want and need, carnal and primal and infinite.

"I'm yours, Derek," Stiles bared his neck to the Alpha. "I'm your pack. I'm your mate. I'll be your Emissary, if you'll have me. I'll be anything you'll take. Please."

"You're everything, Stiles," Derek sounded near desperate, looking at Stiles with gentle eyes. "You're my everything. I always just… It was never the right time. It always felt like it would be unfair to tell you. Make you choose between me and Scott, between my pack and his, between here and Beacon Hills, between… us, and staying with your dad."

"Yeah, but… now I'm here. And I'm yours. And you're mine."

And it was that last word, spoken with all the possessiveness Stiles felt, that finally tipped Derek over into leaning down and kissing him fiercely and passionately. It would have been the perfect first kiss if Jackson wasn't making gagging noises in the background while Erica cheered and Boyd and Isaac argued about who owed whom money. But then that maybe made it even more perfect.

~*~ The End ~*~

#Sterek #Teen Wolf #Sterek Fic #Phoe's Fics #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Fic: London Calling #Stiles Summer Stories 2024

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terrorsmade · 5 months ago

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the look on his face reads as clearly as if he'd spoken aloud ; oh really ?? brows raised towards brown curls as his head cocks slightly , almost laughably dog - like. his eyes narrow ever so slightly in concentration , confirming exactly what he'd thought he'd heard mere moments ago. ' your dad's home ... or will be. ' isaac starts a silent countdown on his hand ; five , four , three , two , one ... and the familiar sound of a car door opening and closing , audible to both sets of ears. it's almost strange , the fact that chris argent's return doesn't send him scurrying , not like his own father's had. impressive , even , considering the man's former career choice ... but isaac has found himself to be oddly ... comfortable in the argent household these past few months. so comfortable , in fact , that he drops down beside allison on her bed , squinting at the latin text that's laid before her. it's all greek to him , nothing about becoming a werewolf had granted him the ability to understand that language of unintelligible squiggles , yet , he's been here for hours. trying to help in some small way , flipping through pictures and sending snippets out to the brain trust if the situation warranted it. and his eyes are burning , isaac can't imagine that allison is faring much better.

' I don't know how you do this ... ' he murmurs , actively leaning back against her pillows now , eyes closed. ' I feel like my eyes are gonna fall out of my head. '

@villainmade said ; ‘I didn’t hear anything.’ ft ; allison argent && isaac lahey

#⋞thread⋟ ( isaac lahey. )#⋞teen wolf⋟ ( verse. )#villianmade

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hawkeyetrained · 9 months ago

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I'm the Alpha

Derek Hale x reader platonic...kinda? Not properly together but reader has a crush on him

Other Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey

Warnings: canon violence (kinda?), language (like 1 swear), mention of blood, stiles and derek bickering as they do, that’s it I think?

Summary: Trying to help the newly turned werewolf after he was arrested seems to go worse than anyone could have expected. Thankfully the alpha has it covered

Word Count: 1,363

Stiles, Derek, and I were seated in the infamous blue jeep outside the police station. Derek’s new beta was inside, and the full moon was going to be at its peak in moments. It was our job to get in there and hopefully get Isaac out before he tore apart the entire station.

“Ok, now the keys to the cells are in a password protected lockbox in my father’s office.” Stiles began to explain. I leaned between the two seats, listening to my friend tell us the plan. “The problem is getting past the front desk.”

Derek shrugged in the passenger seat. “I’ll distract her.”

Stiles’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa…you? You’re not going in there.” He grabbed onto Derek’s shoulder as he talked. Derek was arrested a few weeks ago thanks to whatever Stiles and Scott shared with the sheriff. A firm glare set in Derek’s eyes the longer the hand that Stiles placed stayed on his shoulder. “I’m taking my hand off.”

“I was exonerated.”

I sighed. “You’re still a person of interest though.”

“An innocent person.” He rebutted, giving me a look like it was obvious.

“You? Yeah, right. Ok, fine. What’s your plan?” Stiles questioned how Derek would distract the front desk officer.

“To distract her.” Derek drew the words out, like Stiles simply didn’t understand the meaning.

“Uh-huh.” Stiles nodded. “How? By punching her in the face?”

I rolled my eyes at my friend, opting to side with Derek, who simply huffed. “By talking to her.” I could barely see the front officer, her hair pulled back into a standard bun as she shuffled paperwork around.

“Ok, all right. Give us a sample. Practice on Y/N. What are you going to open with?” My cheeks burned as Derek and I looked at each other, silence filling the Jeep. “Dead silence. That should work beautifully. Any other ideas?”

Derek shrugged again, turning to look out the front window. “I’m thinking of punching you in the face.”

“Ok, ok. Both of you chill out. Derek can distract her, ok, Stiles? I’m sure he’ll have no problem. I mean, haven’t you noticed how all the girls look at him? He could probably stand there in silence, like you said, and still manage to distract her.” I tried mediating the situation, letting Derek get out of the car before I climbed out through the passenger side. Derek held the door open for me as I jumped out, rounding the car to meet up with Stiles in order to help him get the cell keys.

The relationship between Derek and I was vastly different from him and the two boys. Derek had been cold and quite harsh with Scott when he was first bit, and dismissive of Stiles, but with me, he’d been almost gentle. Derek took the time to help explain some of the things about werewolves to me, so I’d be able to help my friend through the changes, and over time I had developed the biggest crush on him.

As Derek started talking with the front desk officer, Stiles grabbed my hand and pulled me along through a side door and down the hall to his father’s office. I stayed by the window as a lookout as Stiles went over to the lockbox on the wall. He quickly punched in the code and pulled the cover off. “Did you get them?” I asked, watching for anyone in the hall.

“Oh no.” Stiles looked back over to me, showing the empty case before we both headed out of the office. “I’m going to check this way, you go see if you can find Isaac, try to keep him calm.”

“Be careful.” I told Stiles, turning and heading down the hall towards the back of the station. My steps managed to stay pretty quiet as I turned down hall after hall. I had plenty of practice running around the station; having grown up with Stiles as my best friend, I spent a ton of time in the station.

I turned down another hall, only to come face to face with a deputy. “Oh, I um...” I hesitated on what to say, flickering my gaze down to the ground to think. My eyes, however, caught sight of a bloody pant leg and keys hanging from one hand of the officer. Looking back up, I took a step back. “Oh, shit.” I attempted to turn and run, nearly managing to call for Stiles or Derek, but a hand clasped over my mouth, and another wrapped around my chest, dragging me backwards.

My feet thrashed as I tried gaining some footing on the slippery floors, hands trying to pull at the stronger man’s arms around me, but it was no use. I did manage to grab onto the fire alarm lever and pull as I was dragged into the holding area, the alarms sounding and lights flickering instantly.

Finally, the officer, who I was now assuming to be a hunter, threw me to the ground and turned to face the three cells that lined the back wall. I slid back towards a corner of the room, looking at the cell doors to see the middle one barely hanging on to its hinges.

Isaac pounced from the other end of the room, shoving the hunter into the wall near me. He had completely wolfed out, fangs bared and eyes glowing bright yellow as he shoved against the hunter. I scrambled on my hands to the other side of the steel desk in the room, opting for that between Isaac and I should he turn his attention from the hunter. The hunter had pulled a syringe from his pocket, filled with some kind of thick liquid I was sure was meant to hurt or even kill the werewolf in the room. Isaac was too quick though. He managed to catch the hunters hand before it could jab the needle into his skin and twisted. The hunters wrist bent back to a point I thought it was going to snap before he dropped the syringe to the floor, the glass rolling a few feet to be closer to me as Isaac slammed the hunter’s head back into the wall, effectively knocking him out.

Derek stepped into the room with us then, his boot coming down to shatter the glass syringe near me. Isaac had turned his attention from the hunter on the ground towards the sound of shattering glass and whatever he could smell coming from the liquid that seemed slowly onto the tiled floor, his bright yellow eyes stopping dead on me as I still sat on the ground. A deep growl built up in his chest as he turned fully to face me, shoulders tensed like I was the next target, and he was prepared to attack.

I barely had enough time to raise my hands up as a weak form of defense before Derek was in front of me. His arms were slightly flared out at his sides, knees bent into a half crouch, as he let out a loud and deep roar towards the beta. Isaac was on the ground, curled up into the wall opposite me a moment after, hands shaking as they wrapped around his head for protection.

My heart was pounding in my ears still when Derek turned back to me. His eyes were burning bright red but fading back to his normal deep brown as he reached out to me with one hand. My own hand trembled as I held onto his and let him pull me to my feet next to him. “You ok?” He asked, his hand dropping mine but coming up to brush some of my hair out of my face, eyes searching for any wounds or fear I’d have of him.

I let out a shaky breath, but I nodded. “How…how did you do that?” My gaze dropped to Isaac for a moment, noticing that he had shifted out of his wolf form but was covered in sweat and still looked terrified of Derek. A smirk crossed Derek’s face for a moment when I finally looked back up at him.

“I’m the alpha.”

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

#derek hale #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #derek hale oneshot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf one shot

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wolfboy88 · 10 months ago

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Lahey Brothers AU

A mysterious connection between Isaac, Liam, and Jordan is revealed when Scott bites Liam. This bond is so powerful that Isaac is compelled to return to Beacon Hills, where he finds the other two waiting for him at the Nemeton. As they gather around the ancient stump, they realize they are drawn together by a shared bloodline.

Isaac soon learns that Scott's new beta is actually his half-brother, a secret child from a past fling with Jenna that his father kept hidden. And Jordan, is actually Camden, who was believed to have died in the war, suffering from amnesia until the night they are all reunited by fate at the Nemeton.

#lahey brothers au #teen wolf headcanon #twrp character of the month #Liam & Isaac & Jordan #isaac lahey #liam dunbar #jordan parrish #teen wolf #teen wolf aesthetic #teen wolf moodboard

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hrtbrkwthrs · 11 days ago

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Page 289

Isaac Lahey x fem!reader (she/her)

Summary: Allison's cousin doesn't trust easily, but maybe if she lets herself be vulnerable just this once, she could find that some things are worth the risk.

Notes: she/her pronouns, 1 use of y/n, no description of reader. reader is kate argent's daughter, but she doesn't have to resemble kate since she could be adopted, take more after her (unnamed) father, etc. please let me know if you want a part 2!!! Trigger Warnings: slightly traumatic backstory lol (about the same as allison's tbh), reader gets hurt, cuts/blood mentioned

being taught how to wield chinese dagger knives was never really on your to-do list. but when you moved in with your cousin allison, you picked up a few things... to say the least.

it's been two years since your mother died. two years since the pyromaniac, werewolf-killer kate argent was killed in an act of revenge from burning a house to the ground. one filled with innocent lives, supernatural or otherwise.

you always knew your mother was a psycho. it didn't come as a surprise when you heard she passed at the hands of a werewolf she burned nearly to ashes. it was about time for her past to bite her in the ass. she taught you how to use a bow just like your cousin, allison. how to hunt the lives of werewolves, innocent or not. she taught you how to be an argent. and you hated it.

the teachings came with a price. one that, if you were being honest, you weren't really sure she cared about. that price was losing you. as new information came to light, the more you caught on. the more you saw her for who she really was. the more you saw your family for who they really are. and you wanted no part in it. she always knew you were smarter than most.

so kate decided that the risk was worth it, if it meant living on the family name. when she died, you were almost happy to be rid of someone as psychopathic as she. but when you were forced to move in with other family, your uncle chris and aunt victoria, you weren't sure which to be more afraid of. or, at least you would be afraid if you weren't already used to living with a killer.

your aunt victoria and your grandpa gerard both made your life a living hell for the next while, up until victoria died and gerard was put away. they knew you were smart enough not to play their little games. if it wasn't for allison and chris, you'd have been chained to the wall and fed like an animal every day for the rest of your life.

needless to say, you weren't too trusting when it came to your family, and damn sure not when it came to anybody else. allison was the first to gain your trust. it took almost a year for you to finally open up to allison, and she was excited to finally introduced you to all of her friends. or should i say, all of your friends. because it didn't take long for them to take you in as family right alongside allison.

sooner or later, you finally caved and gave your uncle chris a chance. the more you began to open up to him, you realized quickly that he wasn't like your mother or even your aunt victoria. in fact, you've come to like your life in beacon hills, even if it meant battling a giant lizard or a demonic history teacher.

currently, you stood in the woods alongside allison, scott, and isaac – the latter two who were off talking werewolf or some other thing. allison circled the ring of the chinese dagger knife on her finger before grasping the edge with her palm, blade out and ready to cut.

you watched her movements as she performed various tricks with the knife, and tried your best to mimic them.

"you're pretty good at this. you catch on fast," she smiled, nodding in approval.

she tilted her head towards the two boys, "think you're ready to fight one of those two losers?"

you smiled in return. "my pick on isaac," you laughed as she called the boys over.

"is she ready?" scott smiled excitedly, purely just from how proud he was of you. he was almost like a brother, and you were grateful for a friend so supportive.

you and allison both nod. "she wants isaac," allison grinned, looking between the two boys.

isaac, wide-eyed and mouth hung open, nodded slowly. "uh huh... well, c'mon then," he said before backing up, taking off his jacket and tossing it to the side.

you followed suit, positioning yourself in front of isaac with your knifes out and ready to fight. you circled the two ringed knives around each pointer finger before grasping them with fists just loose enough to allow you to swing.

"bring the heat, argent" isaac whispered with a grin.

allison raised her hand in the air, "aaaand... go!" she called out.

isaac wasn't going to fight back, and he'd be careful not to hurt you... but he was going to use his supernatural reflexes to dodge any hit possible.

you swung your first knife at him, faster than you expected. miss. he dodged it quickly, effortlessly.

you swung the other knife, circling the ring around your fingertip as you swiped. the feeling of warm blood splattering across your hand told you that you struck him.

"i let you have that one."

"yeah right," you giggled.

as you stared at the blood on your hand, you cringed. isaac picked up on it quickly, "don't worry. you wont hurt me."

as you practiced your sparring with isaac, scott and allison found their way to the side, watching the two of you. allison called out any time you needed to improve a position or a swipe, and scott crossed his arms with a smile.

"how long before these two just admit it?" scott said.

"oh, i wouldn't count on y/n confessing anytime soon. she swore off love forever when she found out her mom lied about her dad dying. then again when he actually died."

"yeesh," scott didn't know how to reply.

allison looked back to you and isaac. she smiled. "i haven't seen them this happy since that metallica concert dad and i took them to back in middle school."

back on the other side of the field, you stood your ground, ready to continue the practice despite the multiple slashes across isaac's abdomen. the sliced-up shirt was definitely not salvageable.

"hey, do you... maybe wanna go to danny's party with me tonight?" isaac stopped, asking you sheepishly as he tried to hide that he'd overheard allison's words with his keen, heightened senses.

you stopped, looking up, into his eyes. after the initial shock, you smiled. "really?" you asked as if you expected him to be playing some sort of prank. not that he ever would.

"really." isaac replied, a slight smirk across his face as he locked eyes with you.

your smile faded, purely from the trance you found yourself in when looking into his eyes. his icy blue stare swirling around in your mind like a lake.

isaac used the opportunity to blindside you, snatching the blade from your hand and holding your wrist in place. he tossed the knife to the side and smirked at you.

you scoffed through a sarcastic smile. "isaac lahey... i never saw you as a cheater," you teased. your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close he now stood in front of you.

"there's a lot of things you don't know about me," he said with a sly smile.

your guard went up quickly as you took in the small distance between the two fo you. "uh, yeah," were the next words to leave your mouth hesitantly. you pulled your wrists away from isaac's grip, taking a step back to give yourself some space to calm yourself as you tugged at the sleeves of your leather jacket.

at the sudden awkward tension, "we should get going, then," isaac cleared his throat.

ignoring the mildly uncomfortable vibes that rose from isaac's invitation, you walked beside him as the four of you started the hike back out of the woods.

"i didn't hurt you too bad today, did i?" you asked with a small smile, knowing the answer already.

isaac looked over at you, amused. "why, were you trying to?" he smirked.

rolling your eyes, you lightly hit his shoulder in a playful manner. "and why would i ever do that?" you ask, feigning offense.

"oh, i'm just making sure you're not trying to break my little werewolf heart," his palm lands against his chest right where his heart sits underneath, pouting.

you smiled at him, but when your eyes focused back on the trail ahead, you found yourself holding back a frown.

you closed yourself off the minute your father broke your heart by faking his death to go and have another daughter in replacement of you. you closed yourself off the year you started to realize that your mother was a killer.

it took too long for you to let your new friends in. allison isn't even sure if you really have let any of them in at this point. maybe this was your chance. dip your toes in the water, try something new. what's the worst that could happen?

as you arrived back at the apartment with allison, your mind was reeling with anxious thoughts. typically, your emotions didn't show. you were raised to hide them. but allison was raised the same way, and she knows you better than even your own mother ever did.

her hand wraps around your shoulder, gently holding you back. "hey, wait a sec... what's going on with you?"

you turn around to face her. you scoff, "can you just pretend to not see it? for once?"

your words came out harsher than you meant them, but an attempt to push away your feelings all the same.

"hey, i get it. i know what kate did to your head," allison started, but was quickly cut off.

"kate didn't get into my head, she destroyed it before i even had a chance." you snapped, firmly and with an angry frown.

allison threw her hands up in defense, "yeah, you're right. i'm sorry for pushing..." she muttered before brushing past you.

you take a second, sucking in a breath before turning around. "hey, allison, wait."

she stops, reluctantly turning back to face you, visibly frustrated with your stubbornness, but obviously sympathetic.

you sigh, "look, i'm sorry. i know i've been here a few years but i'm still new to all of this, okay? i don't do... feelings. or, at least i didn't used to. but i'm trying my best... i promise i am."

allison nods in understanding. "then what's wrong?"

you frown, shoulders slumping just a little. "isaac asked me to go to danny's party with him tonight..."

allison gasped, trying to hide the smile that crept onto her face. "oh, that's sweet! ...why is that upsetting?" she mumbles, confused.

"because, allison! i don't do this... i don't let people in. i've barely let you in, al. what if he just hurts me like everyone else i've let myself care about? what if... what if i fuck it all up...?"

she gives you a knowing look, one that tells you there's something you're forgetting.

"need i remind you, isaac's got his own set of issues. you two are equally as screwed up as each other." she tries teasing you a bit. it makes you smile.

"you couldn't ruin things with isaac if you tried," she continues. "he's totally into you... and honestly, i think isaac is the last boy in beacon hills that would break your heart... baby, there'll always be something that hurts. if you don't let yourself hurt, make mistakes, feel... you'll never get to experience the really good things that make all that hurt worth it. live a little. let yourself feel."

her words resonate, she always knew the right words to say. you give yourself a second to process them. you smile back, nodding, "thanks, allison."

"so what do you say?" allison grins, "can i help you pick out your outfit?"

you walk through the doors of derek's loft alongside isaac, who picked you up and everything — like a proper date. the party is in full swing, and you can already spot danny making out with ethan in the corner, scott and allison talking to the new girl whom you haven't gotten a name of yet, and aiden attempting to talk to lydia.

"looks like we're late," isaac said, looking over the crowd.

"fashionably late," you replied with a smug grin on your face, walking further into the loft and disappearing into the crowd of people. a smirk spread across isaac's face in return as he watched you walk by, and quickly found himself following close behind you as you sardined yourself in between dancing bodies painted with bioluminescent art.

when you stop amidst the crowd, isaac stops right behind you, leaning down so that his lips are right next to your ear. "should we get painted first?"

you turn around, your eyes fluttering over his face, his lips and up to his own eyes. you nod, "uh, yeah. probably... lead the way?"

isaac gladly takes your hand in his, pulling you through the crowd and over to the painting station. it was a bit outside the sea of people, and only moderately quieter.

"hey, uh..." isaac starts, getting your attention as you spin to look at him. "i'm glad you came with me." he smiles at you, that lopsided grin that he makes when he's being sassy... or when he's flirting. he's made that face to other girls in the halls. you've seen it. the smile makes your heart flutter a little.

you smile in return, only slightly before looking down at his lips, lingering for a moment before stepping away. you take off your shirt, leaving you in a bright purple bralette that illuminated underneath the black lights.

"you wanna keep talking or do you wanna paint my body?"

isaac looks over you, wide-eyed as he takes in the view. "uhh, i wanna paint your body..." he says, almost dumbfounded.

you grin, amused by his reaction. you hand him a paint brush and he gets to paining bright colors across your exposed skin. he paints flowers, adding dotted lines and waves all throughout the art. you used a fingertip to paint your lips a bright pink, and he finished up by adding another flower to your cheek.

"you're a pretty good artist, lahey," you complimented, looking into his eyes fondly.

he smiled in response, "thanks. picked up a few things in art class."

you chuckled, "you actually pay attention in class?" you teased lightly, and he laughed along.

the next few minutes were spent with you tracing a paint brush across isaac's skin. you painted a skeleton along his abs, colored bright blue. you accented his cheekbones with lines of a skull.

when you stepped back to admire your work, isaac took the time to admire you. as your eyes roamed over his body and back up to meet his gaze, he stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of you. his hand met your waist.

"you're beautiful," he said just loud enough that you could hear him over the music. thank god it was dark, or he might have noticed how your cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. he would have loved to see it.

soon enough, he pulled you back on to the dance floor and the two of you danced for what felt like hours, hands roaming across each other's bodies and only an inch of room between you. things were moving so quick, yet it was as if time had stopped, being here with him.

your fingertips traced along the back of his neck, up and through his curls. as his forhead came to rest against yours, he couldn't help but let out a soft groan when you tugged at his hair. it made you smile.

"everybody out!" suddenly, you were covering your ears as derek roared over the crowd. people scattered quickly, almost knocking others over to get out of the loft. you sighed, pulling away from isaac and already missing his touch as you wondered what derek was doing home. didn't ethan say he was on a trip or something?

after the party was gone, it was just you, allison, isaac, scott, stiles, — the new girl, kira — derek, and aiden standing around. derek started to talk, but you noticed the lack of two faces.

"where's ethan and lydia?"

as the question left your tongue, a group of oni materialized in the loft amidst your group. the werewolves turned, whereas you, allison, kira, and stiles stood back.

as a fight between the werewolves and the oni broke out, you pulled the two chinese ring daggers from each of your boots. allison and stiles both looked at you, almost surprised.

stiles and allison both called your name, neither thought that fighting supernatural creatures such as the oni with purely just daggers was a great idea.

you swiped the blades in the air as you aimed to hit the oni in front of you. you dodged every swing of it's katana, and realized that all you were doing is stalling them. you had no chance of winning this battle. not that you didn't realize it before, but in this moment, it felt a lot more real.

before you could swipe again, the oni wielded it's katana and swung it through the air, the tip of the blade slicing across your shoulder. you let out a scream of pain, and started to fall to the ground.

before you could get very far, the oni put it's hand on the side of your head, it's glowing yellow eyes bore into your soul and you were frozen. (literally and metaphorically i guess)

after a second, it's fingertip swiped along your skin, right behind your ear before the group of oni faded away in front of you. you fell to the ground, your body seizing. you had never felt so cold, and the wound across your shoulder blade singed.

it took seconds for the group to disperse, allison and isaac moving to you while stiles and derek went to find lydia, aiden and scott off to find ethan.

isaac knelt on the ground, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "she's freezing!"

allison grabbed her jacket from her bag and tossed it to isaac, who instantly wrapped the fabric around you.

your breaths came out ragged, and you looked up at isaac, trying to talk. "i-isaac-" you stumbled, but isaac shushed you.

"shh, it's alright," he whispered. that's when he noticed the slash across your shoulder. "shit! allison, she's hurt!"

allison knelt beside you, looking at the wound. "it's not too deep, but we need to get her to the hospital," she responded with a frown. she hid her feelings well, but her teary eyes said all they needed to say. isaac understood. the wound wasn't too deep, but it was deep enough to worry.

as the rest of the group returned to the main area of the loft, lydia and ethan visibly shaken but okay, isaac stood up and wrapped his arms around you, picking you up bridal style. you leaned your head against his chest, still shaking from the cold, or maybe the pain.

"take her to my mom," scott said urgently as he looked over at stiles.

"i'll drive," stiles flipped his keys in his hand, "allison, you coming?"

of course she was. the four of you rushed out to stiles' jeep, isaac setting you in before taking his own seat.

somewhere amidst the chaos, you passed out, and all isaac could do was hold onto your hand and take away some of the pain. he had only just learned how, and he was glad for it.

you woke up to melissa mccall's face as she held pressure on your shoulder, the cut still bleeding. you screamed in pain, but isaac's hand never let go of yours. his touch gave you some bit of relief. tears pricked the corner of your eyes.

"someone get her an IV, we need morphine!" melissa called out, holding you down carefully. you tried your best to stay still as she worked at your wound, holding tightly onto isaac's hand. so tight, you thought you might actually break it. but you knew isaac wouldn't mind anyways. that thought helped ease you a little bit.

as another nurse pricked your skin, inserting an IV into your arm and filling you up with pain meds, it was easier for you to calm down as time went on and the pain began to subside.

melissa cleaned your wound, which was now bleeding at a significantly slower pace. "you're gonna need stitches, it's a pretty deep cut. but it's not too bad." she smiled at you as she grabbed the materials she needed to stitch you up.

"so she'll be alright?" allison stood up, asking melissa.

melissa nodded, "she'll be just fine."

allison felt as if she could finally let out a breath, one she didn't even realize she was holding in. isaac felt the same, as he actually letting out a deep sigh of relief.

as melissa stitched up your shoulder, isaac smiled at you, sitting next to your hospital bed. you smiled back, the morphine clearly working.

"how you feelin'?" isaac asked.

"gooood," you drew out the word, a dope-y smile on your face.

"i bet you do," he chuckled with his words as he watched you, and if you weren't knocked with pain killers, you'd see how much he adored you. with the way his eyes were taking in the sight of you, one might think he was in love.

allison watched between the two of you, and as melissa finished up the stitching, allison stood and excused herself with a small smile. suddenly, it was just you and him.

silence fell between the two of you for a moment before isaac dared to speak. "you know, that was really stupid."

you looked at him, almost shocked by his words. "okay now pipe down, superman," you quipped back with a smile.

"what, you didn't want me to carry you out of there?" isaac teased, "would you rather it have been stiles? scott? maybe even derek himself-" isaac continued, but you cut him off.

"isaac." you said his name, and he immediately stopped to look into your eyes. you gripped his hand as it was still wrapped around yours. "i'm glad that it was you."

isaac looked at you, a silly grin creeping onto his face. "i, uh..." he cleared his throat, "i'm glad it was me, too."

divider credits: @cafekitsune @k1ssyoursister tags: @fclsebnnyodair

#★ TRIGGERS ᵔᴗᵔ #mentions of blood #mentions of cuts/slashes / getting hurt #(the usual teen wolf stuff yk)#★ TAGS ᵔᴗᵔ #teen wolf #isaac lahey #daniel sharman #isaac lahey x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader #fem!reader #isaac lahey x fem!reader #pls lmk if u want a part 2 !!

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