Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1665128.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Chris_Argent/Lydia_Martin
  Character:
      Lydia_Martin, Chris_Argent, Allison_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Older_Man/Younger_Woman, Age_Difference, Seduction
  Series:
      Part 9 of my_mating_games_ficlets_and_drabbles
  Collections:
      Mating_Games:_The_Teen_Wolf_Pornation_Extras
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-21 Words: 2015
****** I always get what I want, Mr. Argent ******
by marguerite_26
Summary
     She was sure most girls her age packed for a sleepover with their
     best friend in a much less analytical fashion. It was likely they'd
     pop on some music and grab their favorite nightwear, some makeup,
     maybe a book, and be done with it.
     Most girls didn't have a best friend whose father looked like Chris
     Argent.
Notes
     Thank you to otta_ff for beta reading.
     This was written for the Mating Games week 2 bonus: Sleepovers.
See the end of the work for more notes
Lydia lay on her bed staring into her closet, her eyes flitting over the
rainbow of outfits she had to choose from. She took her time, weighed her
options carefully, imaging each outfit against each scenario she may be
presented with that evening.
She was sure most girls her age packed for a sleepover with their best friend
in a much less analytical fashion. It was likely they'd pop on some music and
grab their favorite nightwear, some makeup, maybe a book, and be done with it.
Most girls didn't have a best friend whose father looked like Chris Argent.
Throughout the summer she'd spent every Friday and Saturday night at Allison's
house: an excuse to let Lydia's mother drive up to their beach house with her
new boyfriend. And Lydia loved Allison. She really, really did. Allison truly
was her best friend and one of the few people in the world Lydia actually
admired.
But that didn't mean she didn't have an ulterior motive.
That didn't stop her from carefully choosing her pajamas so when she sauntered
into the living room after midnight, catching Mr. Argent watching a late night
movie, she'd be irresistible.
A peach cotton nightie caught her eye. It was simple enough to not look like
she was trying too hard, but the cut was flattering and short enough to give a
teasing glimpse of her panties when she stretched.
Besides, the deep V reminded Lydia of the first time Mr. Argent had looked at
her, really looked at her. Mr. Argent was not the sort to blush, not with his
thigh holster and his shooting range in the basement. His hands were calloused
and his eyes world-wary. He was nothing like the teachers who turned red and
turned away when she stalked into a classroom in a particularly daring outfit.
Mr. Argent just looked. He took in the sight of her from head to toe and met
her eye with quiet admiration and a bit of amusement, like he knew she quite
enjoyed being appreciated.
That summer gave her many opportunities to let him appreciate, between trips to
the beach and sleep-rumpled breakfasts. At each, Allison was a constant
presence, keeping the tension for spilling over into something more. By August,
Lydia was a ball of frustration; Mr. Argent's hungry eyes as he watched Allison
slather Lydia with sunblock by the pool told her she wasn't alone.
Lydia carefully folded the soft peach nightie and stuffed it into her bag
beside her other things.
Tonight, Allison was sneaking out to meet Scott and Lydia had graciously agreed
to stay over. It would be the perfect cover, Allison had figured: when Lydia
stayed over, her father didn't do his nightly check. Lydia hadn't argued.
It was a perfect plan. With Allison out of the house, Lydia had no intention of
spending the night alone.
--
"Thank you for coming!" Allison exclaimed as she answered the door, dragging
Lydia into a hug.
"You know I love staying the night here." Lydia held her tight while her eyes
looked beyond the doorway to Mr. Argent who stood at the end of the corridor
watching them.
They went about their usual routine, dinner and TV, then up to Allison's room
by ten, with a wave and an air kiss from both of them, wishing Mr. Argent a
goodnight.
"Are you sure?" Allison asked for what had to be the tenth time.
"Allison! Go." Lydia laughed, pushing her towards the window. "I'll be fine. I
have some translation to do anyway. You always interrupt."
Allison grinned, eyes sparkling in that way they did when people were
particularly kind to her. "You're the best."
"I know." Lydia opened her notebook, putting an end to Allison's guilt.
In the next second, Allison disappeared into the shadows of the roof. A soft
thunk said she landed her front flip to the driveway perfectly.
--
Lydia waited until just after midnight.
Since her mother died, Allison often complained of her father's weekend
routine: how he'd sit in the dark and watch old movies with a decanter of
whiskey until he was numb enough to sleep. She worried a lot about her father's
loneliness, especially on these quiet nights.
If Lydia were less a realist, she'd call what she was about to do charity.
She found Mr. Argent exactly where she knew he'd be, in the den, half-drunk
with heavy-lidded eyes, barely watching the muffled, too low TV.
"I couldn't sleep," she announced, quiet enough not to startle him from his
daze.
He blinked up at her, dragging his eyes over her chest more slowly than he
usually dared. She wondered if the glow from the screen was making her nightie
transparent enough for him to see the outline of her breasts.
"Lydia."
"Mr. Argent." She sat, letting her nightie flare with the movement. His eyes
tracked her, widening for a moment, most likely at the quick glimpse of her
panties. "Mind if I join you?"
"This isn't a good idea." His voice was thick with drink, and less gruff than
his usual tone of someone who does not like to be toyed with. She immediately
knew neither of them were going to pretend they didn't know why she was here.
Placing a finger on his lips, Lydia shushed him. "Allison's asleep, and I'm not
a little girl. And we both want this." Catching him about to reply, she traced
his mouth with her fingertips, the same path she wanted her tongue follow. "I
always get what I want, Mr. Argent."
"I don't." The words weren't petulant, not like Jackson would have said them.
It was more an observation, maybe a warning. He took a long drink of his
tumbler and set it aside.
"Then let tonight break that tradition." She'd often been told her face had a
stubborn look when it was too late to talk her out of something, and she knew
she was wearing it now. She'd planned on something more subtle, a soft
seduction and sweet words.
Instead, Mr. Argent watched the jut of her jaw with a kind of fascination that
was all the invitation she needed to straddled him.
"I thought you were smarter than this, Lydia," he said, but his hands fell to
her hips, as though it were instinctive. Their tight grip stole a gasp from
her.
"This is the best idea I've had all summer, Mr. Argent." She rocked her hips,
rubbing her wet clit against the bulge in his jeans. "And trust me when I say
I've had some brilliant ones."
His lips quirked at that, a soft exhale of a laugh following. He wasn't pushing
her off. She let her eyes shut and her hands wander, exploring the taut muscles
beneath his shirt. She could feel his every response, from the hardening of his
cock between her legs to the tension in his shoulders as he tried to stay in
control. She felt dizzy with the power of it.
"You aren't told no very often are you?"
She opened her eyes, shaking her hair out so it fell over her shoulders and a
stray lock tickled his open collar as she leaned in. "Are you going to be one
of the first?"
"No," he said, and he slipped a hand between her legs, hooking her panties to
the side so he could press a finger inside her.
His breath hitched as he found her slick, and again as she tilted her hips to
sink his finger deeper. She was already so hot, her body responsive and ready
from the weeks of teasing and the fantasies she had built up in her head.
"I'm not even going to make you work for it," she said, reaching for his
zipper. "Not tonight, at least."
She thought he might argue, but his eyes were glassy and amused, and he lifted
his hips as she worked his pants open and down. There was no opposition, no
resignation. He was letting her take charge, making her responsible. Then
again, he always seemed to prefer women to make his decisions for him.
Lydia could handle that.
He was big, bigger than Jackson or Aiden -- bigger than Conner, whose last name
escaped her but who had performed well enough in the custodian's closet before
school ended that she might have to learn it.
She held Mr. Argent's cock in her hand a moment, stroking it up and down,
learning the feel of it as it grew harder in her palm. It only took a few pumps
to get him completely stiff and she was thankful she'd caught him before he'd
drank too much.
The tip alone was a tight fit as she sank down on the swollen head, enough that
it stole her breath for a moment, before she forced herself to relax. She took
it slow, slower than she usually liked, but he had her stretched wider than
she'd ever experienced.
Mr. Argent was patient, staring at her, unflinching and without guilt, as she
worked her hips to take him to the root.
She was trembling, not able to move for a moment, resting her forehead on Mr.
Agent's shoulder. The moment drew out, the sensation of his impressive girth
consuming everything else. His hands were feather light on her waist as though
if he held her any tighter he'd lose control; she was grateful he didn't.
The TV in the background was a muffled sound of dialogue she couldn't follow,
but it was distraction enough to help her refocus. With a deep breath, she
shifted. It was great choice. She was slick enough so that the move was easy
and comfortable, letting her hit a good angle.
The grip on her waist tightened as she began to move. He didn't rush her. He
let her set the pace, the angle, giving her soft words of encouragement that
never seemed to come naturally to a teenage boy.
"Beautiful," he said, and kissed her for the first time, the rough scrape of
stubble making her lips tender.
His piercing blue eyes never leaving hers, he cupped her breasts, lifting and
holding them inside her nightie like there was nothing better than the weight
of them in his hands.
"Do you want me naked?" She hated at how vulnerable it came out, but he was
unsettling in his quiet worship and it was throwing her off.
He grinned. "You are perfect just like this." He leaned back against the couch,
as though he was memorizing the image of her riding him, both of them almost
fully dressed. She wondered if she was playing out his fantasy as well as her
own.
Her thighs ached as they rode the edges of orgasm, not quite there, not quite
willing for this to be over, for either of them. He slid his hands forward, his
thumbs dipping into her stretched, wet panties and finding her clit. He worked
his thumbs in unison, rubbing concentric circles on either side of her clit
until she arched into his hands, choking on her own scream as she came.
His hips jerked up, slamming into her, no longer gentle. He pinned her hips
down, burying himself deep as she clenched around him and he poured himself
into her. She collapsed onto him, hiding her face in his neck and losing
herself in the scent of his aftershave and the feel of his come dribbling down
her thighs.
He held her, kissing her forehead until her legs began to cramp and she climbed
off him, wincing at the ache.
Once she'd calmed and her legs stopped trembling enough to walk again, she
stood to leave.
Mr. Argent picked up his drink from the coffee table and turned back to the
movie he hadn't really been watching earlier. "Next time Allison sneaks off to
see Scott," he said, "you don't need to wait until I'm nearly drunk before
coming down to seduce me."
A soft, pleased smile played on his lips.
Lydia felt a thrill, knowing this would happen again, and knowing that smile
belonged to her alone.
End Notes
     I'm marguerite26 on tumblr. Hi.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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