FNL fic -- Jason/Tyra -- Revenge
Title: Revenge
Character(s): Jason Street/Tyra Collette
Word Count: 500
Rating: R/NC-17
Spoilers: Through 1.09 "Full Hearts".
Notes: Filling in what happened after the Tyra/Jason drunk pity party in Full Hearts.
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, I'm not making any money.
It's revenge and it's drunken and wrong and everything Lyla wasn't.Or everything you thought she wasn’t. But you don’t really know what to think anymore, and right now you don’t want to think at all. You haven’t been this drunk since seventh grade, when you and Tim went over to his house and each had one of Billy’s six-packs and threw up into the dried backyard grass. Getting paralyzed really did a number on your Quarters game, and you’re pretty sure that even if your legs worked, you couldn’t walk a straight line.
Not that you want to move. Not that you have anywhere to go, really; it’s a Friday night and everyone’s away at the game, even your parents. You’re supposed to be there, in Gatling, instead of in some goddamn rehab center drunk off cheap whiskey. But things don’t always go the way you’ve planned. Because you didn’t plan to get hurt, you didn’t plan for your girl to fuck Riggs and lie about it, and you definitely didn’t plan for Tyra to be on her knees in front of your chair right now. Her mouth on you, hot and nothing at all like Lyla. Intense and almost fierce, like she’s competing with someone and going to win whatever it takes. Her tongue works over you, hard and it’s nearly too much for you. You shut your eyes tight and brace your hands against your chair arms, half-wondering who exactly she’s trying to defeat. She reaches a hand up, tight around you, rough and twisting, and god, you know coming might kill you, but you do not fucking care. This is the best head you’ve ever gotten, and you’ve just about stopped missing Lyla.
Tyra's mouth is still on you, hot and wet, and you screw up your eyes even tighter, biting your lip hard. You’re not sure if this is revenge on Tim and Lyla or sympathy for you. It doesn’t matter, and it’s wrong, but it’s better because it’s Tyra. Because Lyla hates her and Tim fucks her. Because she’s everything Lyla wasn’t, tall and blonde and aggressive, her mouth working around you hard and fast and determined. Licking down you expertly, taking you in. It’s more intense than sex; her tongue moves over you once more, hard and hot and perfect, and you don’t have time to say anything before you’re coming. You see, rather than feel, your hips jerk against the chair, rough and god, it’s been so long.
You start to apologize to Tyra, but she’s already standing up, fixing her shirt and wiping her mouth. You’re surprised when she leans over and kisses you, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you in, openmouthed. You can taste yourself on her, but only just, and before you know it, she’s gone without a word, only stopping to grab her purse and the rest of the whiskey. You’re still drunk and more confused than ever, but revenge is pretty sweet for once.
Character(s): Jason Street/Tyra Collette
Word Count: 500
Rating: R/NC-17
Spoilers: Through 1.09 "Full Hearts".
Notes: Filling in what happened after the Tyra/Jason drunk pity party in Full Hearts.
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, I'm not making any money.
It's revenge and it's drunken and wrong and everything Lyla wasn't.Or everything you thought she wasn’t. But you don’t really know what to think anymore, and right now you don’t want to think at all. You haven’t been this drunk since seventh grade, when you and Tim went over to his house and each had one of Billy’s six-packs and threw up into the dried backyard grass. Getting paralyzed really did a number on your Quarters game, and you’re pretty sure that even if your legs worked, you couldn’t walk a straight line.
Not that you want to move. Not that you have anywhere to go, really; it’s a Friday night and everyone’s away at the game, even your parents. You’re supposed to be there, in Gatling, instead of in some goddamn rehab center drunk off cheap whiskey. But things don’t always go the way you’ve planned. Because you didn’t plan to get hurt, you didn’t plan for your girl to fuck Riggs and lie about it, and you definitely didn’t plan for Tyra to be on her knees in front of your chair right now. Her mouth on you, hot and nothing at all like Lyla. Intense and almost fierce, like she’s competing with someone and going to win whatever it takes. Her tongue works over you, hard and it’s nearly too much for you. You shut your eyes tight and brace your hands against your chair arms, half-wondering who exactly she’s trying to defeat. She reaches a hand up, tight around you, rough and twisting, and god, you know coming might kill you, but you do not fucking care. This is the best head you’ve ever gotten, and you’ve just about stopped missing Lyla.
Tyra's mouth is still on you, hot and wet, and you screw up your eyes even tighter, biting your lip hard. You’re not sure if this is revenge on Tim and Lyla or sympathy for you. It doesn’t matter, and it’s wrong, but it’s better because it’s Tyra. Because Lyla hates her and Tim fucks her. Because she’s everything Lyla wasn’t, tall and blonde and aggressive, her mouth working around you hard and fast and determined. Licking down you expertly, taking you in. It’s more intense than sex; her tongue moves over you once more, hard and hot and perfect, and you don’t have time to say anything before you’re coming. You see, rather than feel, your hips jerk against the chair, rough and god, it’s been so long.
You start to apologize to Tyra, but she’s already standing up, fixing her shirt and wiping her mouth. You’re surprised when she leans over and kisses you, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you in, openmouthed. You can taste yourself on her, but only just, and before you know it, she’s gone without a word, only stopping to grab her purse and the rest of the whiskey. You’re still drunk and more confused than ever, but revenge is pretty sweet for once.