
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/822733.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Allison_Argent/Scott_McCall, Allison_Argent/Chris_Argent
  Character:
      Allison_Argent, Scott_McCall, Chris_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Semi-Public_Sex, Daddy_Issues, mild_incesty_thoughts_(allison_about
      chris)
  Series:
      Part 7 of my_mating_games_ficlets_and_drabbles
  Collections:
      Mating_Games:_The_Teen_Wolf_Pornation_Weekly_Challenges_Revealed
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-30 Words: 1064
****** Lost, Until You See Me ******
by marguerite_26
Summary
     “What are you doing?” Scott tugged at her hand, his harsh whisper
     echoing in the high ceilings. “Your dad’s right there.”
     Allison kissed him, ducking her head to draw attention from her sly
     grin. “It’ll be fine.” She reached for his belt.
Notes
     This is an extended version of what I wrote for the mating games
     picture challenge. I choose prompt 10 (nws).
See the end of the work for more notes
Allison watched Scott slip through her window with a sheepish curl to his
smile. He was twenty minutes late but it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t change her
plan.
“Mom was having a bad day.” He ran his hand through his hair, messing it more
than the run across town had. “I didn’t want her eating dinner alone.”
“It’s fine.”
“Sorry,” he whispered, but she was already across the room crowding him against
the open window and nipping away the apology. She kissed him until he calmed,
until his shoulders lost the tension of whatever had happened that day and he
melted beneath her hand.
He smiled up at her sweetly. “Hello to you, too.” She laughed and kissed him
again, letting the heat between them build. When his hands started to wander
and the kiss got sloppy and desperate, she grabbed his wrist.
“Come on.” She led him across the room and out her bedroom door.
“Allison!” he hissed. He was laughing, though, still playful and a bit curious
-- not panicked yet.
She stopped when they reached the end of the hallway. When she looked over the
banister into the living room below, her belly tingled with nerves.
“What are you doing?” Scott tugged at her hand, his harsh whisper echoing in
the high ceilings. “Your dad’s right there.”
Allison kissed him, ducking her head to draw attention from her sly grin.
“It’ll be fine.” She reached for his belt.
“Shit.” His hands fell to her wrist but he didn’t stop her as she fumbled with
his buckle. “Why are we out here?”
“He’s been drinking.” Bitterness slipped into her tone and she smiled wider to
compensate. She paused, showing him she’d stop if he really wanted her to.
They’d go back to her room and fuck behind a locked door like every night.
Her hand closed around his dick and Scott’s eyes fluttered shut. “You’ll hear
him if he wakes,” she said.
“I might not.” It came out breathy, like he wasn’t sure if he should be
fighting this harder.
Before he could gather a better resolve, Allison had turned around and with a
quick tug, her skirt and panties slipped to the floor. She leaned over the
banister, presenting her bare ass. Scott’s helpless moan sent a wicked thrill
deep into her belly. There was no way they were heading back to her bedroom
now.
Directly below them, her father snored softly, the newspaper he’d been reading
fallen forgotten onto his lap. The glass beside him was empty; it usually was
these days, except for the very short moments when it had just been re-filled.
Scott’s fingers found her wet. She’d been thinking of this for hours, planning
while she waited, knowing her father had already passed out for the night. Her
breath caught as Scott pushed in three fingers. He knew she liked the stretch,
that she wasn’t looking for gentle tonight.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” The crinkle of condom package followed the
words; they were spoken just to be said -- because they were true rather than
as a complaint.
“It’ll be fine.”
Her dad would never even notice. He didn’t notice anything these days -- rarely
even looked her in eye. Losing his wife, his father, his sister in the span of
a few months had broken him. Allison understood his pain, shared in it, but she
hated it fiercely. She hated herself for competing with grief for her father’s
attention.
She clutched the banister beneath her fingers until the ache of it brought her
back.
Behind her, Scott gripped her hips and she felt the tip of his latex-covered
cock graze her clit. “Ready?”
She stared down at her father, as oblivious in sleep as he was awake. She
didn’t even try to keep her ‘yes’ quiet.
Scott wasted no time sliding inside her, setting a familiar pace. She moaned, a
guttural sound that stole from her throat at being stretched wide, filled up.
Chris shifted his position and the newspaper on his lap fell away. His
subconscious could probably hear them, she thought. Her eyes traced out the
folds in his crotch, trying to spot a bulge. She bit her lip, squeezing her
eyes shut in embarrassment at that thought. It’s not as if she wanted--
It was his attention she was looking for. His forgiveness. Some of that
unconditional love he’d paid lip-service to in the first few days after
Gerard’s death. She’d cried on his shoulder and he’d held her so tightly she
could barely breathe. That was before the panic of losing her had cooled to the
indifference of a man too lost in his own head to love his daughter.
The indifference was toxic.
While Scott found his rhythm, Allison imagined Chris waking up to find her
being fucked by a werewolf fifteen feet from him. She’d have his undivided
attention then. He’d be up off the couch, his hand on a gun before Scott could
even pull out.
Scott was fast enough, he’d disappear out a window before her dad could get a
clear shot. She’d be left leaning on the banister, her ass on display as he
climbed the steps to yell at her. She had to stop her train of thought there.
Scott was getting frantic, bruising her hips with every thrust. As he slammed
into her, the acoustics of the stairwell amplified the filthy sounds of
slapping flesh. His hand left her hip and found her clit, rubbing it off with
brutal pressure -- the kind she liked lately. The next thrust slammed her
against the banister and it creaked ominously.
“Harder,” she said, her focus still below.
Scott panted against her back, trying to keep pace while working her clit.
Her dad’s hand twitched.
She trembled, her arms giving out as her orgasm rippled through her body. She
was riding the last waves of it when Scott pressed deep, his hips jerky and out
of rhythm.
He held her, nuzzling her shoulder before pulling out. “God, Allison.” She
heard the rustle of clothes as he dressed. “That was-- God, Allison.” His voice
was shaky with nervous laughter.
She should get dressed, kiss Scott goodnight, but she was frozen, her hand
white-knuckled on the banister.
“Yeah, Yeah, it was,” she said.
She didn’t tear her eyes from the peaceful, sleeping face of her father who
still hadn’t looked at her.
End Notes
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