Work Header

won't treat you like you're oh so typical

Work Text:

"You want to play... matchmaker while we're in the middle of being chased by a murderous psychotic pack of demons who are after us because we activated a beacon that attracts all evil on earth?" Scott raises his eyebrows as he takes his chemistry out of his locker and stuffs it in his backpack.

Allison bites down on her lip, tilting her head as if she's thinking it over and realizing it sounds kind of outrageous, "Yep." She pops the p, tightening her grip on the strap of her bag nervously as Scott closes his locker.

"Just checking," he replies, leaning back against the row of lockers as he looks at Isaac, who was filling his own bag with books next to him. "Can Isaac join, too?" The taller boy's eyes light up at the mention of his name, like a puppy that perks up his ears, as he hopefully looks over at Allison.

Allison gives him a quick once over, shrugging, "I don't really care," because indifference is the way to roll when one of your ex-boyfriends—who you're kind of but not really but also yes, still in love with—suggests you do something with your other We Kissed Like Two Times And Did Some Other Stuff Ex, who happens to be in his loyal pack. Of actual wolves. "I just think, it'd be good, for the both of them, you know? I think they could use the extra push."

Not that Stiles Stilinski needed the extra push to be with Lydia Martin but, whatever, that was beside the whole frickin' point.

"How very girly teenage movie of you," Scott grins teasingly as they start walking down the hallway to Allison's locker. (He remembers the night clearly on which she told him she was not, he repeats, NOT, a standard teenage girly girl with a love for romantic movies, chocolate and shopping and she'd rather watch a movie with guns, and stuff.) She bumps her shoulder against his, hiding a smile.

Isaac trails after them, trying to keep up with both their conversation and their step. He was a werewolf with supernatural powers and was genetically blessed with long legs, how the hell were they walking faster than him?

"So, how does this work, you want Lydia to devirginize Stiles with our help?"

Allison rolls her eyes, because to get them both laid was part of the plan but to put it so blatantly dirty made her feel like a—a pimp. A bad one, if she had to talk them into it and wasn't even getting paid for it. "Basically, yes, but—"

"Wait," Isaac butts in, and they stop walking, turning around to face the skinny-but-broad-and-how-does-that-work-exactly-anyway boy. "You want them to.."

Scott expectantly raises his eyebrows and Allison stares at him impatiently as he searches for the right words.

Isaac colors a little, scratching the back of his neck. "To like, um, like.."

"Spit it out, Isaac," Allison snaps at him in a way that makes him scared she'll stab him like, five times, or something like that.

He narrows his eyes slightly, wetting his dry lips, "Do it with our help?"

Scott grins widely, snorting a little, knowing what Isaac is getting at and Allison crosses her arms, frowning. Clearly, she isn't catching on. "Didn't I just literally say that?"

"But like, with the five of us?" Isaac clarifies, pointing from himself to the brown haired tan boy and then Allison herself. As he looks at the look on their faces (Scott eyes shining with laughter as he tries to stifle the actual sound and Allison's cheeks coloring, pressing her lips together tightly), he quickly adds, "Because I'm totally up for it! But maybe it'd be like, totally awkward or something. Besides, I don't think Stiles really likes me thatmuch."

"I suppose you can get Isaac up to speed," Allison mutters under her breath as she looks for the fastest way to get out of the conversation, hallway, school—preferably life, if possible. She's never been this uncomfortable in her entire seventeen-almost-eighteen years of existence. Pulling on her dress she adds, "I should get to.. class. I'll text you guys later with a plan."

Scott tries to hide his grin as he nods stiffly, "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you to class?"

Allison gives him a stern look, "I can take—"

"Care of myself," they finish for her in unison, Scott's voice laced with a sigh while Isaac mainly just sounds bored as he manages to resist rolling in his eyes.

"Right," the shorter boy adds, sending her an amused smirk as she smiles, with her mouth closed, before disappearing around the corner.

"Wow, that was super awkward," Isaac comments with a sigh as Scott's head snaps away from where Allison was headed to give him a look before he starts walking again.

Isaac trails after him. "What? She made it awkward!"


"I looked up something last night, about the thing that almost bit off Scott's arm the other night, but it was all in Latin and I was wondering if you could translate it?" Stiles says as he shoves a chair in between Allison and Lydia.

Allison's eyebrows curve as she watches the scene unfold in front of her. She could basically start up a new algorithm about the two of them, the same thing always happens. She could practically narrate the whole ordeal by now.

Stiles comes over with a problem, Lydia pretends to be annoyed at first and then helps him, they start talking about something random, he makes a joke or says something stupid and she hides a laugh, Lydia says something witty, Stiles says something sarcastic, yada yada, then they proceed to smile like idiots for at least the next two minutes. Well, Stiles does and Lydia obviously tries to think of dead kittens and infected wounds to keep from doing the same. Can't let him know she actually likes him.

!God forbid! the nice boy who's been in love with you since forever and likes you for who you are finds out you like him back. Better stick with masochistic jerks like Jackson, and pathological murders like Aiden.

Well too frickin' late, Lydia Martin. Allison Argent is on to you.


"We should invite them to a group thing and then ditch them," Scott suggests, after half an hour of brainstorming what the fastest way was to get them together. He leans his head back against his headboard with his hands behind his head. He'd suggested shoving them in a closet and locking them in until they came out together or they could pick up a particular scent, but Isaac had his obvious objections to that one.

Allison nods in agreement as she takes another twizzler and chews on it and leans back in Scott's desk chair.

(Scott's room had been the safest meet-up place since she didn't feel like including broody Derek in their plans by going to his scheming werewolf loft—'hi, Derek, we're just here to discuss our newest mission. To get Stiles laid. By Lydia!', yeah that would go over so well, and her place wasn't really an option since her father would probably almost murder her just to be able to murder her again if he ever found her alone with not one, but two ex-werewolf-boyfriends. At least Scott's mom didn't jump to any threesome-having conclusions.)

"That could work."

Isaac looks up from his position on the floor, leaning against Scott's bed. He sounds skeptical. "They spend more time together than all of us put together, and we two live together." He nods over at Scott before continuing, "She's over at his house like every other night and otherwise they're with us, most likely getting almost killed."

"Yes, but setting is everything, Isaac," Allison says sternly, sitting up and crossing her legs, making sure her underwear is covered neatly because 1) she's a lady and 2) Isaac's seen enough of her for one lifetime. "Setting is what gets the romance flowing and, look at me and—Scott! For example. We went bowling and—"

Scott rolls his eyes, staring her down, "Yes, so romantic. You totally asked me to picture you naked." Unfortunately his infatuation with her had somewhat died down ever since she made out with his brother without a mother but we can share mine.

Allison glares at him, throwing her twizzler at his head with perfect aim but of course he catches it since he's a werewolf with superhuman reflexes, and all. She remarks sarcastically, "Thanks, Scott."

"You did!"

"Is that honestly the only thing you remember? That I asked you to picture me naked?"

"Well—" The tan boy smirks and she huffs indignantly.

"You couldn't even hit one pine, Scott, one."

"I was nervous!"

"Whatever," she says coldly, crossing her arms as she stares him down. He stares back.

Scott narrows his eyes, fists balling and Isaac swallows hard, thinking maybe, possibly, he should just interrupt them. The staring was getting kind of way out of hand. He could cut the tension with a knife, could practically smell it.

Isaac looks from Scott to Allison to Scott and back to Allison, deciding to just let the setting thing drop since it was obviously a touchy subject. "Should we have like, a secret code or something? For if anything goes wrong?"

"What could possibly go wrong?" Allison bites, obviously still fired up. She sighs, her voice eerily calm as she runs a hand through her hair. "We'll go to a nice restaurant, I'll make up an excuse about being tired, you'll say you and Scott want to play Sonic The Hedgehog on PlayStation or whatever guys do together—it should be able to run along smoothly."

"Well, what if Stiles asks if he can join? Or you go to pee and Lydia orders something for you?" Isaac suggests, thinking over various scenarios. What do people do in nice restaurants beside pay too much for too little food?

"We'll just be super quick," Scott replies hastily for Allison, shrugging a little and Isaac nods carelessly. He adds, "I mean, I can't talk for you or Allison, but I don't have to see the actual getting together part. We'll have to be quick, in and out."

"Gee, I've heard that one before," Allison mutters bitterly, clenching her jaw and Isaac snickers in response as Scott's tan cheeks turn slightly red.

"Let's just get this over with."


"So," Allison starts, unsure. She's not scared of anything—werewolves, spiders, death by any of the two previous ones, her first period didn't even have her screaming for her mother—but Lydia? Lydia made her nervous. She was her best friend in the entire world, really got her and felt like a sister—lying to her felt the same as stabbing her in the back with an arrow and she didn't want to lose her.

It's for the greater good, she reminds herself as she pretends to wash her hands. Well, not actually pretend, she puts on the water and soaps her hands and everything, but pretends she has a reason to. "Are you free on Friday?"

The strawberry blonde doesn't take her eyes of her image in the mirror as she reapplies her lipgloss, "Why? Did you get invited to another frat party? I could really use an older college guy right about now."

Yes, Lydia, Allison resists to urge to roll her eyes into the back of her head, an older college guy who doesn't want you to use words with more than two syllables is just what you need. She wishes Lydia would just stop playing the dumb, popular cheerleader role sometimes. Deep down, she wanted something different. Allison knew that, didn't need werewolf senses for that.

"No," she says quickly, deepening her voice to impersonate Isaac, "I was talking to Scott the other day and Isaac was there and he was like 'yo, we should all hang out sometime'—"

Lydia lets out a small snort, because he does not talk like that, "Isaac Lahey? Are you sure?" Allison starts to nod, ready to continue when Lydia talks again.

"Wait, are you into Scott or Isaac at the moment?" Lydia pauses, looking at the brunette in the mirror and narrowing her eyes slightly, as if she was analyzing her every move to get an honest answer. Allison stiffens, doesn't want her body language to give anything away.

"Excuse me?" Allison stumbles, drying her hands and nervously running a hand through her hair. This was so not the plan. Damn Lydia.

"It's hard to keep track with you," Lydia scrunches her nose a little, sending her a tight smile before going back to applying more mascara to her long eyelashes.

"I—I," she starts but anything she was supposed to say just sounds dumb now. Her instincts take over as she feels her mouth moving, words spilling out, "I don't know. That's why I wanted to do like a group thing, so you could help me… figure.. out."

Lydia squeezes her shoulder reassuringly and Allison almost feels bad for lying. "Sure, we could go bowling—"

"No!" She shrieks in response, a little too loud, earning a few strange looks from some random girls, including Lydia. She lowers her voice, "No, no bowling."

"What do you suggest?" Lydia asks as she puts her make-up back in her bag and flips her hair over her shoulder, looking at her best friend, who's acting a bit strange. Stranger as usual, usual being might be killed in combat any minute by some supernatural creature but I'm chilling at school anyway, doing teenage stuff.

"Les petites roses," Allison quickly blurts out because so far, that's the only thing they agreed to that she's actually been able to get out of her mouth without forming more lies. "Eight o'clock. Casual."

"You want to casually hang out with a group of four at the most elite, prestige restaurant in Beacon Hills?" Lydia's voice is laced with sarcasm as she purses her red lips.

"Yes," she retorts frantically, trying to talk Lydia (and herself) into it in the most believable way. Right now, she didn't even believe the words that were coming out of her mouth—so much for frick yeah, badass Allison Argent, fuck the patriarchy and shit. "I might invite Stiles since I don't want any of them thinking it's a double date or anything."

Wow, this lie is getting worse by the second. Now she's just naming random facts to distract Lydia from asking any more questions.

"Okay?" Lydia says, but it comes out more like a question. She reaches out to grab her hand and lowers her voice into a whisper, leaning closer. "Allison, are you okay? Did the, you know, nogitsune possess you again?"


"No, I'm, I'm totally fine!" She laughs nervously, her voice high. She needs to get out of here. Fast. Her brain shortcuts. "See you later, LyLy!"

Scurrying past a group of girls she practically races out of the bathroom, leaving Lydia staring at the spot Allison was just in. "Okay, what just happened?" She shakes her head, deciding to get to class herself.

"LyLy? Seriously?"


"Lydia is super pretty, you know that, right?" Scott tries, before taking a sip of his coke. Stiles looks up from his pizza, his mouth full as he gives him a funny look. "I know."

"And she's also, very, very smart. Like she's a genius or something."

"I'm aware, yes," Stiles swallows his food, a bit amused, looking at his best friend. "Scott, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he waves him off, "Plus, sometimes, when she's in a good mood and you don't talk too much, she can actually be nice," Scott offers, his eyes bright as he nods, as if he's asking Stiles if he's following.

"I know," Stiles voice trails off, his eyebrows knitting together. He rambles on, "I've been obsessing over her since third grade, let's not pretend I didn't talk your ear off about her for years. Don't tell me you forgot. Did you forget? Because I'm pretty sure everyone knows. Did you hit your head again?"

"No, but—Lydia?" Scott goes over what Allison said in his head. Warm him up to the idea of being with Lydia, convince him she actually wants him back. He hadn't thought it would be this hard. Guess years of pure rejection, no carefully wrapped no thank yous but just as if i would ever, with you? psh!s, did that to you. All what comes out of his mouth are strange sentences, words that make no sense.

"Are you into Lydia?" Stiles narrows his eyes slightly and it's like Scott's brain got deep-fried, he can feel actual sweat drip down his back right now. "No! Uhm, I, Lydia? Isaac!" He yells, spotting the curly brunette making his way over, pausing at vending machine, he lowers his voice, "Isaac has a date with Lydia. Allison suggested we'd stop it from, uh, running smoothly. She still likes him."

"Ouch, I'm sorry, dude," he grimaces, "And she asked you to help? How considerate of her." He huffs and Scott bites down on his tongue to keep from screaming. He's not a very good liar, especially not to the people he loves.

"It's fine." It's not, it wouldn't be, but it's not true anyway. Allison isn't still into Isaac. Hopefully.

"I'm over her," he continues, another lie. He would probably never be over her.

"Like so over her," he adds quickly, nodding his head to himself. Screw you, mom (he means it in the most gentle, nice way), falling in love again is not on his agenda as long as Allison is still alive and breathing. Maybe even still after that. Not in the creepy necrophiliac way, but like, the normal way. The normal way to love someone that's dead.. His mind is trailing off again.

"Kira's totally awesome," He blurts out but truth is, he hasn't seen her in two weeks. "Besides, Isaac is going out with Lydia. Doesn't that just.. Piss you off?" Scott suggests, raising his eyebrows.

"Lydia can do whatever she wants, she has been doing for a while now," Stiles reminds him, his smile a little sad and Scott almost smacks him in the head. He needs to stop thinking Lydia is too good for him. They're all screwed up, least they can do is be screwed up together.

"He said, he said," Scott thinks deep and hard. What would make him so absolutely jealous he would want to tear off Isaac's clothes? In a bar fight kind of way, of course. "He could get her naked within ten minutes."

Finally, something flares behind Stiles eyes and he doesn't even seem to care that Isaac Lahey would never say something so blatantly arrogant since his voice was always laced with regret and doubt and apologies, even if he had no reason to.

"That son of a—" Stiles growls, looking over his shoulder at the tall boy, who's now close to their table, and giving Scott just enough time to wave Isaac into another direction. He turns back to his friend, forming an innocent grin on his just in time.

"I'm in. When's this so-called date?"


"You thought showing up in jeans would be a good idea?" Allison questions Isaac as he hops out of her car, Scott slipping from the passenger's seat he'd been occupying.

Isaac looks down at his blue, ripped jeans and then his black v-neck before he looks over at them. Allison is dressed in a nice white dress, showing patches of skin here and there but in a classy way and Scott is wearing a button down that's actually buttoned. Weren't they supposed to go home and fake sick/tired/dead after two minutes?

"I tried on one of Scott's old suits but there was a hole in it and the pants only reached my calves. I looked ridiculous."

"Besides, in and out, remember?" Scott adds, a smirk on his lips and Allison's head jerks into the direction of the sound of his voice, a small laugh spilling from her lips.

"Let's just go inside."


Lydia is sitting at a table near the window, typing away on her phone. They join her and Scott shoves Isaac into the redhead's—no, strawberry blonde's direction, nodding over at her. Isaac looks confused for a second before sitting down next to her, anyway.

Maybe he should've told Allison and Isaac that he lured Stiles here by saying the latter one had a date with Lydia, instead of just asking Stiles, hey, what's up, you want to hang out this friday? Oh well.

Stiles arrives two minutes later and Scott can't help but smile at the annoyed look on his face. He's so jealous it's funny. Snorting to himself he types out a text message to Isaac.

SCOTT MCCALL: pretend ur on a date with lydia, stiles will b so jealous :p

Isaac sends him a weird look as Scott nods towards Lydia, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Isaac responds by putting his hand on Lydia's thigh (always the subtle one he is), earning an alarmed look from Lydia. Scott resists the urge to facepalm in the middle of the restaurant as he types out another message.

SCOTT MCCALL: ok good job now try to act natural

"So," Allison yawns loudly, she looks over at Scott, "I'm super tired. Do you think you can drive me home?"

"You just got here," Lydia states, swirling a straw through her glass of water passively. Her lips are slightly pursed and Allison knows this means she's annoyed. Maybe it's because Isaac is clumsily twirling a stray of her hair around his finger until she slaps him away.

She has to give him props, Stiles looks like he's about to jump out of his skin and murder Isaac.

"Yeah, well, I didn't know I was this tired," she retorts without skipping a beat. Feeling bad about lying shouldn't make her a bad liar. She's been trained by pros. She fakes another yawn to make a point.

"Maybe Isaac can drive you home," Stiles replies, his eyebrows raised as he looks at them amused. His voice contains the slightest hint of sarcasm.

So, what? Allison told his best friend she was in to one of his friends and wanted his help and now she was trying to lead him on again? No. Let him say that in Spanish, No. Besides, Isaac was acting like a creep. Right. You created this trap yourself, Scott.

"No, no," Allison quickly replies because as always Scott's sitting there, not saying anything and she's running out of excuses. She pulls on Scott's hand, forcing him out of the booth, "Scott will do just fine. He's tired, too, right, Scott?"

"No, not really but—" Scott starts, being interrupted by Allison as she nudges him hard in the ribs, faking a smile to her other friends.

"Allison, please st—" Lydia pleads, eyeing over at Isaac who's blatantly staring at her, his arm around her shoulder. She was getting the vibe Isaac thought they got together as a five-some for something entirely different.

"Bye!" She calls over her shoulder loudly as she pulls Scott out of the restaurant. Part of her feels bad for ditching her best friend when Isaac is acting like Matt Daehler 2.0, but when she imagines her falling into Stiles arms, twirling and spinning around before they make-out in the rain—well, she can suck it up for five minutes.

"Phase one completed, now let's hope Isaac doesn't screw up."


"What are you doing?" Scott asks confused as Allison takes out a giant black bag from under her seat, unzipping it in her lap.

"An Argent always comes prepared," she smirks slightly as she takes out a pair of binoculars. "Maybe we should've just planted a bug on Isaac. Why is he still in there?" She leans closer to Scott to get a better view out of the passenger seat's window.

"You smell really nice," Scott blurts out with a sigh as he admires her face from the side. She's honestly so pretty that sometimes he can't breathe.

"Scott, focus," Allison says sternly as she knits her eyebrows together. She's not here to fool around. She's on a mission.

"It's kind of hard when you're sitting so close," he says, honestly and her eyes soften as she puts down the binoculars, turning her head to look at him.

"So, we all know Isaac joined because he hates making homework, but why did you?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper as she looks down at him from her position, her long eyelashes almost touching her cheeks.

He shrugs a little, wetting his lips (and blatantly staring at hers for a second too long) before he says, "I don't know. It would give me an excuse to spend more time with you, I guess."


"I have to pee," Isaac tells them loudly as his two friends talk about some theory about true detective or whatever. Lydia's back is practically turned on him and Stiles stopped eyeing him warily five minutes ago, too engrossed with Lydia.

"You literally just came back from the bathroom," Stiles snaps and he seems pretty mad.

Isaac swallows hard. Okay, that's true—he knows he's supposed to be this whole big bad werewolf and everything, but he kind of chickened out back there. His mind is running blank when it comes to excuses but he can't let Scott down. "I know, I, uh, hAVE TO POOP!"

He's so proud of himself for coming up with such a great excuse within seconds that he kind of yells it through the entire restaurant, earning weird stares from everyone. Including Lydia and Stiles, who kind of just give him this incredulous look like they can't believe he just said that.

Neither can he, he thinks as he scrambles out of his seat quickly, but at least it was a nice save.


Isaac clears his throat loudly, his eyes wide with terror.

Allison and Scott abruptly part (their lips and tongues and he could've lived another hundred years without having to witness that, honestly) with a yelp, staring at him with apologetic and slightly annoyed eyes.

"You guys didn't hear me get into the backseat?"

"You could've announced it before sneaking in and watching," Allison states at the same time as Scott says, "I'm sorry, I guess even my supernatural hearing was kind numbed."

Suddenly there's a loud banging on the window behind Scott and they all yelp, ready to attack whichever monster was after them now (seriously, this was getting old) when they turn to find a pissed of Lydia and an amused looking Stiles.

"I guess you weren't too tired for a threesome?" Lydia snaps, arms crossed as Allison gets out of the car, followed by Scott and Isaac.

"We, uh," Scott stumbles on finding the right words before Lydia cuts him off.

"We know about your little quest to get me and Stiles together."

"Are you guys insane?" Allison's eyes widen and Scott tries to act casual, forcing out a badly acted, "W—what?"

"How did you figure it out?" Isaac asks curiously, looking from Lydia to Stiles and not even bothering to respond to the daggers the other two are sending him.

"Uhm, maybe next time not giving us two different stories?" Stiles offers cynically, before continuing, "We basically solve your supernatural mysteries on a daily basis because you're all too lazy to figure out what the hell is going half of the time, yet, you guys didn't think we'd figure out this?"

"It wasn't hard to put one and one together," Lydia adds, and it's then they all notice they're holding hands. It isn't the first time Scott has seen this but usually it was in the midst of a fight, Lydia pulling Stiles out of a battlefield or Stiles urging Lydia to follow him to witness his newest theory. Not like this, all casual and handholdinglike.

"You're holding hands," Scott points out and Stiles looks down at their hands, as if to confirm it before nodding.

"We wanted to tell you guys, but you were all acting weird."

"And creepy," Lydia adds, eyeing Isaac dangerously weird. He sends her a cheeky smile which she pointedly ignores.

"I was kind of pissed off when I found out Lydia agreed to a date with Isaac and I thought maybe I just dreamt that we made out the night before, and that morning in the car and five minutes before lunch in the janitor's closet and oh—"

"Stiles," Lydia presses, her cheeks coloring slightly red as Stiles clears his throat.

"Oh, right. I wasn't entirely sure if maybe Lydia just wanted to hide you know, me, and that's why she agreed to date Isaac but then I talked to her and we—"

"Established the fact you guys are idiots," Lydia finishes for him, eyebrows cocked. "And we wanted to see you squirm."

"Well, Lydia did, but I have to admit it was pretty hilarious," Stiles snorts and his friends look at him offended, amused and confused. Respectively Allison, Scott and Isaac.

Scott nods at his best friend, proudly and they high five before Isaac intersects.

"I guess our plan did succeed after all," he nods at Allison and Scott, "You two were totally on your way to second base."