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ellewritesathing · 4 years

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(Un)Requited - I.L. III

Summary: Isaac Lahey had gone through many twists and turns in his life, but none of them compared to the whiplash he got when you asked him to tutor you. With a few weeks until the end of the semester and the big dance coming up, he’s hoping to figure out a way to ask you to go with him before it’s too late.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 3

Word-count: 3.1k+

A/N: i really need to work on updating this fic but i’ve finally figured out more or less what to do with this story line so hopefully my updates will be a bit more regular!!

Whenever Isaac thought he was getting better at functioning around you, you always found a way to prove him wrong.

It had been a week since you developed the Get The Girl game plan, and he’d been spending a lot of time with you ever since. Isaac had left notes and corrections on your algebra homework that made you smile, figured out the kind of jokes that made you laugh, and had gone to your house a few times to study together (and only once had any actual studying been done). Magnus still hated him, but he was slowly but surely winning over Max and the rest of your family.

You even sat in the stands whenever he had lacrosse practice and committed his schedule to memory - when Isaac knew full-well that you knew nothing about lacrosse.

Things were looking up. At this rate, Isaac might actually have the courage to ask you out and have the tiniest, most microscopic chance of you saying yes.

And then the weekend came and you took him to the mall to buy some new clothes and get a haircut.

It was nothing too serious - Isaac had even said something that made you laugh over lunch - but now he was sitting in the salon chair and you were running your hands through his hair while the two of you waited for the hairdresser.

Isaac knew it was an absent-minded gesture while you thought of what to do with him, but he couldn’t help the way it made him feel. He was surprised you couldn’t hear how his heart beat out of his chest every time you started combing through a new section, almost as surprised that you hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t paying attention to a word you said.

“So what do you think?” you asked, dropping your hands on the top of Isaac’s shoulders (sadly). The touch still made him malfunction, but it was easier now that your hands were still and your eyes were focused on his in the mirror.

“I, uh- I think that sounds like a good idea,” Isaac said, trying to look like he’d been listening. He’d meant to, honestly, but it was literally impossible for him to focus around you.

Two social steps forward and about a billion back.

“Really? I thought you’d hate bleaching it,” you said.

Isaac’s heart nearly exploded. “Bleach?”

“And a mohawk.”

“Oh, you’re messing with me for zoning out,” Isaac said. Though he would have been perfectly content to have a bleach blonde mohawk if it made you happy, he pretended to be cooler than he actually was by nodding at your reflection in the mirror. “I see how it is.”

“It was too good an opportunity to pass up,” you laughed, lifting your hands back to his hair. “What I was thinking is a little shorter on the sides but keeping the top as it is. It would break my heart if we cut off your curls.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Isaac said, too softly to be a part of his cool guy routine. Your teasing smile faded into something a bit more genuine. “Sounds good. For real this time.”

Before you had the chance to answer, the hairstylist came over and started occupying your time. As happy as it made Isaac to hear you laughing and talking with them, an ugly pang of jealousy shot through him.

Derek had explained to Isaac when he turned that sometimes he’d feel emotions that weren’t necessarily his own. Those emotions were why anchors were so important, because otherwise Isaac would drift in a sea of emotions and they’d eventually consume him. At the time, Derek was talking about anger, but Isaac knew this had to be a part of it, too.

Isaac just wanted you to be happy, he didn’t care who it was with or if it had anything to do with him.

He spent the better part of the appointment trying to convince himself that he wasn’t a jealous bastard that didn’t deserve the time of day, and by the time his blowdry was done, he was back to his normal semi-functional self.

You beamed at his hair as he stood up and ruffled it slightly, only to be laughed at by the hairstylist. Isaac couldn’t hear very well over his heart beating so loudly and with his ears recovering from the force of the hairdryer, but he could have sworn the hairstylist said something about you two being a cute couple on your way out.

Isaac didn’t have time to dwell on the comment, though, because soon enough you were dragging him into stores he’d never been to and picking out things for him to try on.

It was awkward at first. Isaac had lost the ability to talk to you as well as the ability to make a decision. The result was a clumsy collection of clothing and a very awkward moment before Isaac closed the changing room door with you on the other side.

After a brief pep talk, Isaac started trying on the clothes. They weren’t bad, they just weren’t what he would normally wear. He hadn’t exactly made it easy to shop for him what with his inability to speak but he still couldn’t help feeling out of place in the stuff you’d picked out.

When he came out, you were sitting on a bench, leaning your head against the wall and scrolling through something on your phone. You brightened up when you saw him and his heart melted, but he shook his head and placed the clothes on the return counter.

“You didn’t like any of it?” you asked as you got to your feet.

Isaac shook his head and sighed. “Nah, it’s not that it’s just … I haven’t really worn anything that wasn’t Camden’s first.” He blinked a few times. Where did that come from? There was no way you wouldn’t realize he was a loser now.

“Oh,” you said quietly, dropping your gaze to your shoes. “I should have-” You looked back up at Isaac and gave him a smile. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah, I’d go anywhere with you,” Isaac said before he could stop himself. He made a mental note to ask Erica to slap some sense into him when he got home.

Instead of groaning and calling him cheesy, you laughed and looped your arm around his. “Come on. I’ll buy you some ice cream on our way out.”

The ice cream had sent shivers up your spine so, somewhere between the store and parking lot, Isaac had given you his jacket. You wore it as you drove him home, and Isaac couldn’t help but think how much better it looked on you than it did on him.

Isaac tried to think of an excuse to not get out of the car once it was parked outside the loft, but he came up empty. He was about to thank you for the ride and the attempted shopping trip when you started talking.

“It’s Erica, isn’t it?” you asked, staring through the windshield at where Erica was harassing Derek at the entrance to the building. She was having the time of her life and Derek looked ready to drink.

Isaac let out a laugh. He wondered if she wanted money or if she was just having fun giving Derek a migraine. “Yeah, that’s her.”

You bit your lip as you stared out the windshield. After a moment, you turned to look at Isaac with a somewhat indecipherable look on your face. “I think she’ll say yes.”

“Wait, what?” Isaac asked. He had no idea what you thought Erica would say yes to, or how you got there from asking for her name.

“Yeah, I don’t think you needed to cut your hair or change anything to get her attention,” you said, still not making any sense. “When you ask her to the dance, I think she’ll say yes.” Isaac tried very hard not to frown at you, but it probably wasn’t working because you kept talking before he could say anything. “You’re a really great guy, Isaac. If she doesn’t see that then she’s crazy.”

“Right,” Isaac said slowly. It was the only thing he could think of to say. He had no idea how to untangle the mess he’d gotten himself into or how to explain to you that he and Erica were the farthest thing from romantic prospects. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said with a smile. “I’ll see you after practice on Monday?”

“Yeah, sure. See you.”

Isaac got out of the car, feeling dazed and confused, and waved at you as you disappeared down the street. How had he gone from feeling like he had a shot with you this morning to asking Erica to the dance?

---

“No way,” Erica said, not looking up from the nail she was painting.

She’d refused to stop painting them, even though the smell of the open bottle made everyone in the loft feel nauseous. Today, she’d picked out a metallic shade called Black and Blue - no doubt because anyone who got close enough to see the color would be left black and blue.

Isaac attempted to come closer but stopped when Erica slid the bottle closer to him. “Come on, I never ask you to do anything!”

“Oh, please. You ask me to do crap for you all the time.”

“Name one other time.”

“Two hours ago you asked to copy my English homework because, and I quote ‘it’s a Crime and Punishment that I have to read this,’” Erica said. She looked up at him with a sly smile. “And you say you’re not witty.”

It didn’t take a genius to see that Erica had won that angle of the argument, so Isaac changed tactics. “What if I cover for you next Thursday so you can go to that concert Derek said you’d only go to once he was dead?”

Erica hummed and looked back down at her nails. She touched up her left ring finger before looking back up at Isaac, knowing that he’d use that time to think up several other options to offer her when she said no. “Is it really that important to you that this girl knows I’d never in a million years date you?”

“Not how I’d phrase it, but yeah,” Isaac said. He slid into the seat across from Erica and carefully placed the lid over the bottle.

Erica looked at him for a hard moment and then sighed. “Fine. Then I’ll find a reason to talk to her and tell her you’re not my type.”

Isaac leaned over the table and kissed her cheek before racing out of the room to ensure he didn’t end up black and blue. “You’re the best, Erica. Have fun at the concert!”

“Concert?” Derek asked, catching Isaac’s arm as he ran past him.

“Definitely not,” Isaac said with a grin. He leaned in and kissed Derek’s cheek for good measure. The poor man was so off-guard that Isaac shook out of his grip without using any supernatural influences.

---

Isaac had come up with a plan. It wasn’t a very good one, but it was the only one he had. He’d go to practice and try to be the best player on the field to impress you, and then when you guys were sitting on the bleachers and he went through his homework, he’d explain this whole scheme to you. Hopefully, the speech he’d prepared would be eloquent and he wouldn’t just throw up words all over you, but that was a risk he had to take.

The ‘being the best player’ part kind of failed because, aside from all his issues, Isaac was very distracted by a chemo-signal in the air: nervousness. It was everywhere, but particularly near the bench and bleachers.

He tried to put the first failure aside as he showered and changed into a shirt he thought you’d like. Instead, he went over his speech once more in his head to make sure it sounded halfway decent.

Hey, so I know this is really weird but I need to come clean: I’ve had a crush on you ever since our brothers first dumped us on each other when we were kids. I’ve never wanted to ask Erica to the dance; I’ve only ever wanted to go with you but I never thought I had a chance with you so I lied. It was stupid, but I can’t change that now and I guess what I’m trying to say is … will you go to the dance with me?

Isaac groaned and hit his head against his locker. The speech was awful, but if he didn’t tell you the truth then he was pretty sure he was going to combust.

He was still trying to psych himself up to talk to you when he walked back over to the bleachers and heard you laughing. Then he picked the chemo-signal up again. You were nervous.

And you were talking to Stiles Stilinski.

That ugly feeling of jealousy shot through him again, and Isaac worked to convince himself he was overreacting as he made his way over.

“Hey, guys,” Isaac said evenly. He smiled at you and shot Stiles a very deliberate look. “What’s up?”

“Stiles was just telling me this story about one of your away games. Did you really fall off the bleachers right before the match and sprain your ankle?” you asked, mouth pulled up in an amused smile. It wasn’t malicious but it felt different than the one you usually gave him.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I did,” Isaac said stiffly. “Back in freshman year. Did Stiles tell you about the time he drove his Jeep through the other team’s equipment and forced us to forfeit?”

You whipped your head around to laugh at Stiles. Again, not maliciously. Just different. This time it was more like you and Stiles had a secret that Isaac didn’t know about. “No way, seriously?”

“Seriously. But in my defense, Scott was distracting me,” Stiles said, not sounding very defensive. He had a surprisingly easy smile on his face that made Isaac want to punch him. “But, uh, speaking of Scott, I should probably get going before he starts asking strangers for rides and becomes a seven o’clock special.”

You laughed again and gave him a matching easy smile. “Can’t have that, can we?”

“Definitely not,” Stiles said. His eyes flicked over to Isaac for a second before turning his attention back to you. “So I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Yeah, looking forward to it,” you said. Stiles started heading down the bleachers and you let out a small sigh before gathering up your stuff. He looked at you over his shoulder and you waved at him.

It was amazing how such small movements made Isaac feel sick to his stomach; a smile here, a laugh there, and now a wave.

Isaac adjusted his backpack and tried not to look as jealous as he felt. “So what’s on Friday?”

“Oh, uh-” You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and shrugged. There was a strange kind of nervousness rolling off you. “Stiles asked if I wanted to go to the dance with him so I suggested we do a trial run before then.”

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, like a date,” you said. Your expression was funny; it looked like you were trying to figure something out how Isaac felt about it, but Isaac didn’t know why his feelings would matter. “What do you think of that?”

Isaac thought that everything made sense now. You’d never been interested in sports, and yet you came to every one of his lacrosse games and had the entire practice schedule memorized. Like an idiot, Isaac had thought all your questions meant you had taken an interest in him.

Clearly, he wasn’t that far off. You still weren’t interested in lacrosse, you were just interested in Stiles.

The same Stiles who hated him, made fun of him, and kept him from joining Scott’s pack for the longest time. Everything Isaac did, Stiles found a way to do better - despite being mind-numbingly human.

Stiles had a particular charm that Isaac couldn’t stand but everyone else seemed to love. He was witty, and kind, and some might say he was even good looking. And Isaac thought, most of all, that after going out with a guy like Stiles, there was no way you would ever want to go out with him.

“I think that’s great,” Isaac said with a tight smile. His heart was beating out of his chest and if you were like him, you would have known he was lying.

But you were human - you didn’t know.

Still, you frowned. Either Isaac said something wrong or you felt conflicted about something. The frown was only there for a second before you replaced it with a smile only slightly different to the one you usually wore, closer to the nervous one you’d given him when you asked him to tutor you. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Isaac lied again. If there was one thing his time with you had made Isaac realize, it was that having a place in your life - even a place as a friend with unrequited feelings - was better than no place at all, and he wasn’t going to screw that all up by telling you how he felt. He took a deep breath. “But, uh, do you mind if we talk about this some other time? Derek texted when I was in the locker room and he needs my help with something at the loft.”

You blinked a few times, trying to piece together the quick change in pace. “Oh, uh, do you want me to drive you?”

Your pained expression almost made Isaac spill his guts right there. He couldn’t risk spending any more time with you. “No, he’s coming to pick me up.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, eyebrows knitting together as you looked at him, despite the smile on your face.

“Yeah, sure. Not like those problems are going to solve themselves, right?” Isaac asked. He did his best to give you a reassuring smile.

Your smile faltered for a second, but then it was back on your face and covering up any other thoughts. “Right.”

Isaac left pretty quickly after that, with one thought clear in his mind: Out of everyone in the entire school to go out with, why did you have to pick Stiles Fucking Stilinski?

Tagged: @lettherebelovex @britty443 @ietts @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane

#(un)requited #teen wolf #isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey fanfiction #isaac lahey x reader

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