riding jason todd but he’s injured. (18+)
“fuck, but the doctor said—”
“don’t care.”
the mattress dips under jason’s bulky frame as he pulls you down harder with one broad, all calloused hand gripping the flesh of your hip like he’s genuinely afraid you’ll listen to reason and stop.
meanwhile, you’re trying to keep most of your weight on your knees. thighs trembling from holding yourself up so you don’t crash his freshly–stitched wound. and no— jason’s definitely not having it. the long, scarred fingers dig tighter in his grip, yanking you flush until you’re actually straddling him and there’s no space left between you.
“jason.” you warn, with zero bite, and zero intention of really stopping.
he groans. “baby, shut up.”
somehow, he manages to roll his hips up into you, sinking his cock deeper (if that’s even possible) into your sweet, wet cunt. you choke on a moan, high–pitched, borderline filthy and when the red, swollen tip of him hits against that spongy spot, you clench hard around him. a low, coarse grunt mixed in with a curse slips out of jason through his teeth (maybe from the pleasure, maybe from the pain that travels down his body from doing that).
both of your palms fly to his broad chest, just to keep you steady. you lean forward, your eyes closed, silky hair falling gracefully down your shoulders, perky tits pushing up toward his rugged face, and jason? well, he nearly spills his hot load inside your warmth, right there and then. but just when he thought you wouldn’t argue anymore—
“wait—” your eyes snap open.
needless to say, he doesn’t.
and just to prove a point (and be a little shit about it), he snaps his hips up again, harsh enough to kill the rest of your sentence and replace it with a loud, pathetic moan instead. because now, you feel every throbbing vein decorating his cock, the drag of his sloppy length coming in and out of you, fuck him.
“baby, ‘s just a couple stitches.” he whispers, the words punctuated by the wet slap of skin meeting skin. “been through worse.”
“but—” another thrust, another gasp that spills out of you. “you’re bleeding through the gauze.”
both of you look down at the same time, right where the wound sits on the hard ridges of his toned stomach. that’s when you finally feel it: the slow warmth, mixed in with your arousal, already sticking against your inner thigh right where the bandage is now stained dark.
and maybe that should be the final sign to stop, to make the both of you come to your senses and down to earth.
it isn’t.
not when he’s staring up at you now: with his pupils blown so wide there’s almost no blue left in his eyes, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscles ticking, eyebrows furrowed. he looks tired, but annoyed. like his own body has personally offended him by daring to interrupt the feeling of getting lost inside you.
jason’s gaze pierces holes right through you, then his lips curl into something lazy, something dangerous, the kind of smile that tells you he is finally getting entertained.
“then let it bleed, baby.” he rasps out, tapping your hip to urge you to keep moving. “but you might have to ride me slower, you know… because of doctor’s orders and shit,” he snorts.
you roll your eyes, giving a small playful ‘smack’ to his chest. “stubborn asshole.”
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