
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/486590.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Everyone/Everyone, Isaac_Lahey/Erica_Reyes, Erica_Reyes/Boyd, Derek_Hale/
      Erica_Reyes, Isaac_Lahey/Boyd, Derek_Hale/Isaac_Lahey, Derek_Hale/Boyd
  Character:
      Erica_Reyes, Isaac_Lahey, Boyd_(Teen_Wolf), Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Orgy, Dubious_Consent, Pack_Dynamics, Sex_Pollen
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-14 Words: 2001
****** Flower ******
by somuchust
Summary
     It starts innocently. It's just a pretty flower in the woods and all
     she does is lean in to smell it.
Notes
     I just have so many pack feelings I can't handle, and Teen Wolf is
     just making it worse with every episode. I just want them all to be
     happy. So this fic has everyone in the pack/everyone in the pack,
     with focus on Erica (and consequently Erica/everyone in the pack).
     Warning for dubious consent because this is essentially (does it
     count as a spoiler if there's no real plot involved?) a drug-induced
     orgy (but not between people who wouldn't want do it if they were
     sober, if you know what I mean).
     Remember how Jeff Davis said there were different kinds of wolfsbane,
     with different effects? Well, let's pretend this one lowers their
     inhibitions drastically, makes them really high, hyper-sensitive and
     horny and has the added positive effect of pack bonding. How
     convenient.
It starts innocently. It's just a pretty flower in the woods and all she does
is lean in to smell it. She's glad when she does, because the smell is sweeter
than anything she can think of. It's intoxicating, and she inhales again and
again, lips brushing the soft petals. It takes her a minute to realize she's
behaving strangely, and she backs away immediately, running in the direction
she came from.
She doesn't feel any real effects until she's almost a mile away, and then it
hits her. The colours brighten, the sounds get louder and the warm breeze on
her skin suddenly feels hot. She stops, takes a deep breath to focus, but it
doesn't help. She hears birds chirp as if they were perched on her shoulders
and she can smell the fertile ground of the forest. It reminds her of when she
became what she is now, when her senses were similarly heightened.
What's different this time is the heat. It starts as the glint of sunlight on
her skin, but then it seeps through, infuses the blood and spreads through her
body in a matter of seconds. It's frightening. Inexplicably, it feels like her
blood itches, and that makes no sense at all, because bodies don't work that
way. But she feels it everywhere, she feels it from her toes to her fingertips,
behind her eye lids and deep inside her chest. She feels her heart beating, can
feel each expansion and contraction, and each one is louder and buzzing more
than the last.
She drops to her knees, shaking. She wants to call for help, but who will hear?
She thinks of her pack, Isaac and Boyd and Derek, and she howls. She thinks
she's still in her human form, but for the first time in her life, she honestly
isn't sure. Then, an even stranger thing happens. When she thinks of them, she
feels them, she becomes them. She feels Isaac, only a few miles away, rushing
towards her, his heart beating fast with exertion and fear for her well-being.
She feels Boyd, more distant, too far to have heard her cry, and she tugs at
him, not even knowing how or what she's doing, but she knows he feels it and
will come to her aid. Derek is at home, sleeping, and she can feel the barrier
of his dreams, nightmares, burning and drowning, and she reaches through it,
rouses him.
The itching becomes pain. It's like needles under her skin and she falls to the
floor, curls in a fetal position, screams. She digs her nails, claws, into her
forearms until they bleed, and it still doesn't feel even close to relief. The
tears on her face feel like drops of boiling water and she tries to wipe them
off, but that just makes it worse.
She think she's calling someone's name, but she can't tell whose until he's
there, blissfully cold hands on her face. “Isaac,” she weeps, and then she
laughs, because his touch is like morphine and she craves it everywhere, on her
outside and inside.
He's saying something, but she ignores it in favor of grabbing a hold of him
and pushing him on the ground, draping herself all over him. “Isaac,” she says
again and kisses him. “Pack.” He doesn't know it, but to her, the words are
like blessings.
Isaac tries to push her off him, but she's stronger, maybe because she isn't
holding back whereas he's still trying not to hurt her. She doesn't know for
how long she kisses him, and it's only after she bites his lip once he actually
kisses her back, hard enough to draw blood, that she feels some clarity and
raises herself on her arms, still bent over him. “Isaac?”
“Erica,” he says, and she's never heard her name said with such a mixture of
fear, worship and need. His pupils are dilated and she notices his hands are
trembling when he raises them to touch her cheek.
She lets herself feel the pack the way she did before, and this time Isaac is
right there with her, and together, they are everyone.
His fingers slide under her shirt, and she wants to take of her jacket, but
then she realizes she's not wearing it any more – when did that happen? She
raises her arms towards the sky so Isaac can remove her top, and then she
reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra and she throws it to the side as
soon as that's done. Isaac's eyes on her breasts are like cold water on a burn,
and she grabs his wrists and brings his hands to her chest. It's all she wants,
all she needs, skin on skin, right now. She tears his t-shirt apart with her
claws and curls herself around him, breathing in his scent and tasting the soft
skin on his neck. He reaches down between them and gets rid of their jeans, she
doesn't even pay attention to how, all she knows is suddenly, there's only two
small pieces of cotton separating them and she tears those off too.
She's dripping wet already, so when he enters her all she feels is relief and
completeness. She arches her back, angling herself to take him deeper, squeezes
her muscles around him and everything else just fades away.
That's why it comes as a shock when strong arms lift her up and away, and she
screams in protest, kicks and squirms until she hears Boyd's familiar voice in
her ear, trying to calm her down. “Erica,” he says, but it's not her name that
makes her relax, it's the fact that it's Boyd, here, touching her, and it's
like another piece of the puzzle is right where it should be. “What's wrong?
You were in pain, you called out to me. How? What is Isaac-” He doesn't get to
finish, because she twists around in his grip and presses her lips to his
cheek, then mouth. He tilts his head away, but she follows until he releases
her and tries to back away.
He clearly doesn't expect Isaac tackling him and licking his face as soon as
he's free. Boyd shoves him away, perplexed. “What the hell are you doing?” he
asks both of them. “Are you out of your minds? Oh god, you are, aren't you?” He
takes in their disheveled state and Erica thinks she has her fangs and claws
out, and she's swaying, because the wind is like a current around her body that
she doesn't want to fight. “What happened?” Boyd continues, and perhaps he says
other things, but she doesn't hear the words, she just listens to his voice and
approaches him as if he were prey, because she's so afraid he's going to reject
her again, and she knows that's wrong, she shouldn't be, he shouldn't do that.
That hurt her, and it still hurts, and it will hurt until she feels his arms
around her. Isaac is on the ground, starting at him, similarly mesmerized. She
reaches out for Boyd, just tries to hold his hands, she think that could feel
magnificent, but he swats her hands away.
“This isn't you,” he says, his voice shaking and she loves that how the tremor
resonates with the pulsing in her blood. “You're not in your right mind.”
“I'm still me, I'm just free.” She laughs because it rhymes. She twirls, and
the leaves she steps on dance with her.
“Boyd,” she says, voice low. “Boyd, Boyd.” His name becomes a litany, and she
sings it quietly, only for him. “I would give my life for you, Boyd.” And she
laughs, because in that moment, she realizes that there was a point in her life
that seems like a lifetime ago now, when she was afraid that she would never
love anyone this much and be loved in return.
Isaac is smiling, looking between them, and he's been there with her - they're
joined on a level she never knew existed - and he knows she feels that way
about every single member of her pack and she knows he feels the same. Boyd's
staring at her, open-mouthed. She hears his heart beat faster and she can feel
his body overheating much like hers did, and she wants nothing more than to
save him from the pain she had to go through alone. She steps towards him,
offers him her hand and this time he takes it. She kisses him again, and when
Isaac gets up to join them, they welcome him with open arms. Isaac immediately
sets himself the task of removing Boyd's clothes and she is glad to assist.
Boyd's hand tangles in her hair, keeps her close and grounded, more down to
earth than she's felt since she encountered the flower, and she knows he's
doing the same with his other hand to Isaac. She's on her knees now, and she
presses tentative kisses to his hips and thighs. Isaac is next to her, mouthing
his cock, and she shoulders him lightly to the side, so she can have access
too.
There's just one more missing now, and they feel it like a hole in their hearts
until he arrives, and when they sense him their heads turn towards him in
synch. It feels like the balance of the universe has been restored and her
blood is finally beginning to quieten, her mind spinning down to normal. It
doesn't change the fact that she wants, because now she can admit to herself
she's always wanted.
“Alpha,” she whispers, and they all expose their necks in offering. The Alpha's
eyes are wide and he's looking at them, but not seeing, not feeling them
properly, not fully a part of them yet, and she has to fix that. She jumps him,
like she tried once before, except this time he doesn't shake her off. Maybe
because Boyd is suddenly hugging him from behind, head buried in his neck,
inhaling, and Isaac has his skilled hands under his shirt and is tugging at the
waistband of his jeans.
“What,” is all the Derek manages to say. She knows, understands on a very basic
level how this works now, and she touches Boyd and Isaac, but not physically -
she pulls at them through the connection they share as pack, and they
understand. They all reach for Derek together, dragging him down with them, and
he goes easily and willingly, like he was starving for it, for the closeness
and the innate rightness that is pack.
It all becomes a gorgeous mess after that, because everyone wants everyone.
Memories warp and twist in her mind, time is relative and she can't recall the
exact sequence of events later. She remembers the pleasant warmth of skin and
the feel of claws on her back and hands all over her, so many of them. She
remembers the sharp and pungent scent of blood, sweat and come all around her.
At one point she's straddling Derek, sinking down on his cock, at another she's
kissing him and Boyd's behind her, thrusting, and then she's sandwiched between
Isaac and Boyd, she's even on her own for a while, catching her breath as she
watches them all and still feels everything that is happening in excruciating
detail, and then someone's head is between her legs and she's howling at the
moon.
She doesn't remember when it started or even what exactly she was doing
beforehand, but it doesn't end until the the first light of morning when
they're all exhausted.
“I love you all,” she tells them then, as if they don't know it already.
“Pack.”
She falls asleep with her head on Isaac's stomach, Boyd's palm spread on her
abdomen and his head buried in her neck, Derek curled up next to her, his hand
stroking her hair. She doesn't feel the uneven ground, wet leaves or the cold
breeze. She's with her pack, where she belongs.
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