Pairing. Jason Todd X Reader

You didn't really the check time, but it must've been past midnight when you entered Jason's place for the first time this week, quietly closing the door behind you and tossing your keys back into your bag, which you placed on the hanger by the entrance.

Your steps were lazy and spaced out as you walked around the apartment, looking for him in the dark ─ turning the lights on would be too much of a splurge, so you simply settled for an almost blind search.

Approaching the bathroom, you heard the faint sound of water splashing, the noise recognizable as you'd heard that a thousand times, almost in the same situation.

"You always choose such ungodly hours for bathing." You said, walking into the small room in silent steps.

Jason was laying peacefully in the bathtub, his head resting against the wall beside him as he had his eyes closed, probably enjoying the comfort of the scented candles lit around the tub. You could smell the vanilla from the wax mixed with the scent of the peach bathbomb you gave him some time ago.

"I think this is the best hour for it." He murmured, not bothering to raise his voice. You liked seeing him relaxed like that.

You sat down at the edge of the tub, taking in his soft appearance. He looked very peaceful, his eyes shut and face relaxed. It was one of the few times you'd seen him with his jaw unclenched.

As you sat, his head immediately leaned closer to your thigh, resting against it like a pillow. Your heart warmed at the sight and at the feeling.

You two had just started dating. Things were still so new to both of you, but they were going well. You liked each other, more than either of you cared to admit, still too scared to pour your hearts out. But moments like these proved that the feeling was deeper than you thought.

Running a gentle hand through his damp hair, you let out a short sigh. "You look so peaceful." you murmured quietly, your voice caressing his ears.

"I am." he replied, leaning into your touch. "Even more now."

You smiled at that. He liked to say sweet things when you least expected him to. Jason wasn't one for sweet talk, but he made an effort for you. To see that pretty smile on your lips, to make you feel loved, to make you feel his love.

"How did tonight go?" You murmured quietly, your fingers still caressing his scalp, almost making him purr like a cat. He loved head scratches.

"Mhm..." he hummed, deciding if he should sugarcoat it or tell you the truth. He chose the truth. "It was... awkward. Like, very, but it wasn't the worst night ever. I'm still getting used to these things."

"You're still getting used to galas?" You smiled, your tone incredulous. "I thought you went to these things all the time."

"I did a few times when I was younger." He said. "But it's harder to adapt now. I mean, inside. Outside, I think I look... not that out of place, but inside, it's messy." He explained to you, his fingers coming up to gently caress your side, making your shirt wet. But neither of you cared.

"I get it." You nodded, offering him a more understanding smile now. "I'm sure you did well, though. You always do."

"Maybe... maybe go with me next time." He murmured almost sheepishly, his eyes opening for the first time. They drank you, your appearance, your messy hair, your sparkly eyes, your pretty, pretty nose. Every part of your face, your clothes, your arms, everything. "I think you'd fit in."

"Me?" you mumbled, your voice cracking a bit, making you wince. Suddenly, you felt a little shy from his gaze and from his proposal. The thought of him wanting you of all people to be his plus one at those fancy events made you feel some kind of warm anxiety, close to a good, excited feeling. "I don't think I would, honestly."

"I can already see it... a beautiful outfit on you, your hair pretty and styled, silver jewelry, the most glorious shoes..." he mumbled. He sounded almost like he was daydreaming. "And, of course, your stunning self to go with all of it."

You laughed at that, a genuine laugh, one of those he seemed to pull out of you anytime he did or said something remotely funny. You were down bad for that man. Shaking your head, you gave his shoulder a gentle pat.

"That sounds like an alternative reality." You said.

"I disagree." he said, looking over at you again. "In fact... wait a minute, I'll get all of that arranged right now for next month."

You stared at him in confusion, your eyebrows knitting together as he started getting up from the tube, and then your eyes widened.

"Jason-"

He got out of the bathtub, water splashing all over the edges and dripping down to the floor, as well as on you, your shirt and pants getting even damper.

You laughed again at his desperation, and at the fact that he didn't even bother to cover himself with a towel. He walked out of the bathroom in his full naked glory, droplets of water sliding down his chest as he padded over to the room, mumbling something about having to get on the phone right now.

You couldn't have chosen better.

✦

a.n: i feel like this is so stupid... also, i didn't proof read, I'm sorry!

I think Jason is freaky af with his partners

yes. Jason is good at sex when he's doing hookups but when he's in a committed relationship he feels like he can relax a little bit more. The man's a slut but only for you.

so without further ado I bring you Jason Todd's sexual habits:

You can argue until the cows come home about whether that man is a switch, top, bottom, sub, or dom. None of that matters because Jaosn gets pleasure from servicing you. Knowing that he's the one making you feel good, making you moan, making you scratch his back.

Speaking of scratches, Mark him pls. He likes knowing that he is as much your as you are his. So scratch his back, hickies on his neck, even hickies on his thighs.

Likes to kiss while fucking. If it's a position like missionary or mating press (anything like that), one of his hands will be behind your neck so he can lift your head up and kiss you as he pleases.

I'd think he'd prefer bedroom sex over any other type. There's something he loves about being able to take his time and making sure that the sex is good.

However, when quickies do occur, they are usually rough and fast. I'm talking just slip your panties to the side fast and hunched over a counter. These are usually right before patrol, or before major events.

THE SEX AFTER HE RETURNS FROM A MISSION. Imagine getting him in the bath tub to wash away all of the stench of the mission and when you turn to leave, he pulls your hand, eyes begging you not to go. So now you're in the bathtub together, your sitting flush to his chest and it's cute at first until his hand starts to drift between your legs.

i think that's all for now!

— fem!reader, mention of reader’s hair, suggestive content

the dim light in the room flickered, casting shadows over JASON TODD as he sat on the edge of his bed, shirt discarded. the bandages you’d carefully applied still clung to his body like the second skin, a reminder of the fight he’d just gone through. you were standing between his strong thighs, soft hands hovering slightly over his scarred chest, fingers shaking as you adjusted the last of the bandages.

“you’re done,” you mumbled softly into the room, stepping back to clean up the mess, but his hand shot out, taking your wrist into his hold and pulling you back closer to his warmth.

“stay.”

his voice was all hoarse and his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place a name to.

you hesitated, heart racing against the bones of your ribs, but then his thumb gently stroked over the back of your hand, grounding you. the touch was too soft for someone like him. the callousness of his skin calmed you down. slowly, his hand traveled all the way down the valley of your spine to rest against the curve of your back, sending sparks of heat through you.

“jason,” the whisper of his name slipped past your lips, but he silenced you with a kiss, warm and soft at first, as if testing the waters he was supposed to drown in.

his hands moved as if burned, one sliding into your hair at the base of your neck and pulling you even closer than before, while the other found the small of your back and pressed you straight against his body. the contrast of his defined muscles and the softness of your curves sent your head into a dizzy state.

the grip he had on you tightened, and his lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss, moving with growing urgency. if he could, he’d bottle up the sounds you were making and cherish them for the rest of his life. oh, how he wished it was possible. his hand slid up your side, calloused thumb brushing the skin under the hem of your shirt. you responded by running your hands along his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the roughness of his scars beneath your fingertips.

“you’re killing me here, baby,” he mumbled against the skin of your neck as he moved slowly down. sharp teeth scraped lightly along the path, sending shivers down your blood.

your hands tangled in the soft locks of his hair, pulling him back to kiss him again, this time with more desperation, more need, as if you both knew you couldn’t stop now. his lips moved against yours like he was marking you, claiming you, and you melted into him, giving in to the pull of his touch.

he’d let you crawl inside his body, find him where he’s mostly ruined and let you decide if he’s worth the love.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

how i feel after opening tumblr in the middle of class and there's a 4k image of a very ripped very shirtless jason todd

18+ minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

he would never admit it to anyone, but dick grayson loves it when you get a little jealous. or, rather, he loves making it up to you after the fact.

it’s not unusual for him to be at the receiving end of suggestive remarks and lustful gazes. he doesn’t go out of his way to make it happen, and he never entertains other women’s flirtatious comments, but when your boyfriend looks like that, there’s no avoiding it, really. so when he invites you attend a wayne gala at the gotham museum of antiquities, it takes more than a little self-control for you to stay calm.

three hours in, you’re one “gosh, you’re strong! and those eyes,” away from causing a scene with a glass of red wine. ever-observant, dick squeezes your side softly as he excuses himself from his conversation with another tall socialite, guiding you to the perimeters of the room.

“what’s wrong?” he smirks. asshole. you narrow your eyes at him before looking away, trying not to snap at him. you know it’s not his fault.

“nothing. I’m fine.” lie. he laughs softly and settles his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. he’s going to enjoy this.

“come on, baby,” he pleads. “these ladies are big donors, that’s all. I gotta keep up appearances.” you meet his gaze once again, your lips in a tight line, and his smile widens. “what, are you gonna make me beg for forgiveness?” you say nothing, but you notice a gleam in his eyes that sends heat rushing between your legs. his grip on your hips tightens as he leans in close. “alright, pretty girl. let me make it up to you.”

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

“d-dick…” you gasp, trying to keep your voice down. there’s no need, really; the museum’s marble bathroom stall, paired with the string quartet performing at the gala, muffles your moans well enough.

your black gown is bunched around your waist, and dick’s suit jacket lies discarded on the floor, along with your underwear and stilettos. you shakily hold yourself up on the marble sink with one hand, the other wound in dick’s soft, black hair as he kneels between your legs.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he coos, pulling away from your dripping core. you whine at the loss of contact, and dick chuckles at your misery. his lips glisten with your fluids as he trails one of his slender fingers up your inner thigh. “talk to me.”

“keep going,” you breathe, widening your legs involuntarily. “please, dick, god—” you’re cut off by your own moan as he slides two of his fingers inside you. his lips return to your needy clit, sucking hungrily as his other hand snakes around to grope your ass. your legs begin to shake as he speeds up his pace, and his eyes look up to meet yours. you see him smile against your pussy as his fingers hit that spongy spot in your walls, drawing out an incoherent string of profanities with his name woven through them.

seeing you like this drives dick crazy, and he’s unsure if you know it. the way your body responds to him is one of his favourite things, even if sometimes he plays little games to get you where he wants you. the sight of your expensive dress crumpled up around your contracting abdomen has his pupils blown wide. god, you’re so fucking beautiful. his cock strains painfully against his pants, but he ignores the ache in favour of working your pretty pussy the way only he knows how to. besides, he knows you’ll take good care of him later.

you feel the coil in your belly tighten until it starts to snap, your orgasm drawing dangerously close. dick curls his fingers again, coaxing you to the edge. thoughts of the gala unfolding right outside slip from your mind, and your knees buckle as you reach your peak. “dick, fuck, I’m—”

your breath hitches as you cum over his fingers, and you’re grateful his arms are there to keep you standing. his tongue works you through your climax until you’re bucking your hips away from the stimulation. he pulls away from your aching core, gazing at the glistening mess between your thighs with pride.

he rises to meet your eyes and kisses you hotly, your high still on his lips. you clutch at his shoulders, breathing in his scent as you kiss him back. his muscular arms trap you in a tight hug, and his piercing blue eyes crinkle at the corners with the boyish grin that spreads across his face as he takes in your dazed expression.

“so,” he says smugly, gently running his thumb over the corner of your lip where he smudged your lipgloss. “am I forgiven?”

I have the hadcanon that if jason todd smoked whe would have a Vivienne Westwood lighter!!

-🧚‍♀️

I’ll do you one better, Jason with a significant other who carries his Vivienne Westwood lighter around for him.

You stared out into the crowded room, feeling overwhelmed. Your foot tapped against the wooden floor and that’s when your eyes are met with Jason’s. You shyly waved at him, hoping that he’d notice the anxiety and he smiled softly, immediately picking up on the nerves.

Jason nodded his head towards the main exit and you raised your eyebrows, confused. He put his hands in flannel’s pocket and pulled out a box of Marlboro cigarettes. He shook the box lightly and you scurried through the crowd to find your way to him.

He immediately engulfed you in a warm embrace, his hot breath grazed your ear and you clutched on to him tighter. Jason’s hand rested on your waist as he escorted you out the door. The sounds slowly became muffled as you were met with the chilly September air.

“You looked like you needed a break,” he said, pulling out a single cigarette from his box.

“Yeah, too many people,” you replied, almost disgusted. You watched Jason put the cigarette between his lips and you reached into your pocket to pull out a lighter.

The lighter was a small silver heart, engraved with the signature Vivienne Westwood orb. It was a present for Jason, but he refused to carry it on himself. “The buzz feels better when you’re there,” his words often echoed in your brain, as you remembered the promise you made to him— to always carry his lighters for him.

Jason suddenly leaned down to get closer to you and you quickly sparked the lighter. His eyes stared directly into yours as you brought the small flame to his cigarette. Jason took a large inhale of the stick, taking a second to let the smoke fill his lungs. He then slowly exhaled, blowing the smoke on to your face and you giggled at his actions.

He offered the cigarette to you and you shook your head, refusing politely. He sat down near the edge of the building and you found your seat next to him. He put his large arm around your shoulder and pulled you in closer. He placed a quick kiss on your head and you pushed yourself further into his chest. You closed your eyes and sighed, finally feeling at peace.

oh my gosh

I am in LOVE with your jason todd writing. You just write him so well 🥲

i have scoured the internet for thigh riding jason (because ya know hes KING of thunder thighs) and couldnt find a single one 😔

just thinking thots ab this mans meaty thighs and riding one

Pairing - Jason Todd X (F) Reader Words - 1.4k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Thigh Riding - Praise!Kink - Swearing - Dirty Talk. Notes - No thoughts, just Jason Todd and his thick ass thighs. I’ve been wanting to write thigh riding for a while now so thanks my darling anon!! I hope you enjoy 😉

**

You’ve got that look in your eye again.

That one you get just before you say something that takes him to pieces–a teasing glint that flashes white hot at your pupil and spreads out like goddamn wildfire. You get a faint quirk at the edges of your mouth, a slight tug of a smirk on your lips and the sight of you, glittering and halfway to electric never fails to make his stomach drop straight through to his feet.

You’re leaning against the kitchen counter, watching attentively as he gears up for patrol. That no good look still flashes in your eye, but you manage to do a decent job of keeping it off your face–if Jason didn’t know you as well as he did, he wouldn’t know you’re about to suggest something obscene, something outlandish.

“Jason,” You almost purr, making him pause, fingers hovering over the clips to his weapons holsters. Looking up, he catches your gaze across the kitchen and swallows thickly when you hold his stare–refusing to let it go until you’ve said what you want to. “My pretty boy–”

He can’t help it, his brain short-circuits at the praise, stutters and freezes in place.

You push off the counter with an amused huff, wicked mouth twitching into a threatening grin. There's a firm confidence to the way you walk, a predator stalking prey. He knows he looks like an idiot, a deer caught in blinding headlights, but he can’t deny that you look powerful–goddamn fucking beautiful.

He thinks he might catch fire when you touch him, press your palm to his heaving, armour covered chest and shove.

You don’t stop there, you keep going, force him to backpedal until the backs of his legs nudge the sofa. You smile, smoothing your palm from his broad chest upwards, sweep your nimble fingers over the thick, fluttering vein in his neck to settle heavy along his jawline.

“Jay,” You say again, leaning in close enough to ghost your lips over his chin. “Lemme ride your thigh.”

His breath hitches in his throat.

His cock jumps.

“Sweetheart,” He tries, struggling to speak past the lump in his throat. “Baby, please. I’ve got patrol, I don’t have time.”

Your hands press insistently into his shoulders, holding him down. Jason knows he could overpower you, already has three ways planned out on how to have you flat on your back in a few blinding seconds. It wouldn’t take much. He thinks of flexing his hips and throwing you off, having you spread out underneath him, legs parted so he can slot between them and ruin you.

Jason can be patient. Can bide his time. Wait for you to have your fun and enjoy the intoxicating thrill of being in control before it takes it away again.

But he can’t quite ignore the way he fattens up in his boxers, blood rushing to his cock and making it twitch, ache, fucking throb at the sight of you.

“But Jay, your thighs are so thick. I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” You drag the length of your pussy over his leg. He feels the heat coming off you through his tactical pants and he wants to moan. “You’re not going to deny me this, are you? I can see how hard you are.”

“Fucking shit!” Jason croaks, throwing his head back. “Are you tryin’ to kill me?”

He wants to jerk off, wants to wrap his fist around his cock and pump it hard and fast until he empties his heavy, aching balls. He wants to wrestle you off his leg and bury himself in your slink cunt, maybe teach you a damn good lesson in the process.

Pressing your hips down you rock yourself over the hard muscle and reward him with a sweet little gasp as your clit catches on the fabric. It makes him feel dizzy, almost like he’s waking up with a concussion minus the blinding pain. Grabbing you by the hips he guides you over his thigh, flexing it just right as you pass over it, dragging another quiet sound from your mouth.

“D’that again.” You whimper, fingers tightening over his broad shoulders.

Jason watches as your composure shakes–dissolves right before his eyes. Something dark fights itself awake in his gut, blinks its eyes open and starts cataloguing all the ways to recover control, slip it from your clever fingers and choke you with it.

“Do what again?” Jason grins, looking up at you and cocking his head slightly. “This?”

Flexing his thigh as you drag your wet little clit over it your breath stutters, pupils blowing out with a violent wave of lust. Jason adores that look on your face, halfway to unhinged, neck deep in desperation. He loves it even more because he put it there.

“Y-yes.” You stutter, eyes rolling back into your skull.

Settling into an easy rhythm of back and forth you make sure to catch your swollen, sticky pussy on every dip and groove of his thigh. Jason tightens his grip on your waist, forcing you to rock against him harder, faster.

“Can’t believe you’re making me late for this.” Jason mutters, pressing his mouth along your jaw. “Makin’ me late because you want to rub your greedy pussy on my thigh.”

He listens to your heart skip, memorises the frantic beat so he can replay it later when you’re worn out and sleeping. Pressing wet kisses along the hinge of your jaw he smooths his hands around your back, sweeps the pads of his fingers over your spine.

“But Jay, please.” You whine, breathless, “I’ve been wanting to do this for ages, been thinking of riding your thigh for months. They’re so fuckin’ thick.”

Jason huffs into the crook of your neck, thrusting his thigh against your cunt, “Is that so?”

“Mmhm. S’not fair having to watch you strap on those holsters, it makes ‘em look so good. The amount of times I’ve wanted to bite them–” Your words taper off into a moan, mouth parted as Jason drags his teeth over your pulse point.

“Y’should have said something sooner, sweetheart. Could’a had you cumming over ‘em like a whore before now.”

He feels your steady motions falter, posture changing ever so slightly to allow you to focus on grinding your twitching little clit against his thigh. Jason knows you’re getting close, can sense your incoming orgasm almost as well as he can sense his own. Moaning desperately your legs shake, eyelids fluttering shut as you drag yourself up to the very edge.

“Fuckin’ christ, are you gonna come?” Jason asks, already knowing the answer. “Really? From this? From rubbing yourself on my thigh?”

“Uh–shit. Yes, m’gonna come.” You whine, twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Jay–fuck–I’m so close.”

He feels you trembling, throat working hard as you swallow and pant out whimpering whines of his name. He knows you’re a hair-trigger away from exploding, from gushing over his thigh and drenching his tactical pants. Jason knows he’ll need to change before leaving. He can’t go out with your come smeared across his thigh.

“Oh baby,” He coos against your throat, “Come for me. Be a good girl, soak my thigh.”

A silent shudder works through your body, starts at your legs and bleeds through to your fingers. Your voice shakes and cracks as you come, pussy contracting wildly against Jason's leg. Sucking a dark mark over your fluttering pulse Jason guides you through your climax, keeping the pressure on your pretty pussy until it stops twitching.

You move to pull away and swing yourself off his thigh. He knows you’re doing it to let him leave, but he’s not quite ready to let you go, still wants to prove that he’s the one in control of the situation. So Jason grabs your hips, keeps you pinned.

“I think you’ve got another in you.” He smiles, all dangerous and threatening at the edges. “M’not letting you move your wet cunt until you come again sweetheart, I’ve decided I quite like having you grinding yourself on my thigh, it’s a very pretty view.”

Your eyes widen and he sees it then, that quick flash of ‘oh fuck’ over your face. You’ve been wanting to ride his thigh for months, and Jason can’t be blamed for wanting to make up for lost time.

**

size kinks and jason todd laying you flat on your stomach, your bed faces the mirror and one of his hands keeps your hands pressed flat against your back while the other is pressed against the back of your neck. the position doesn't help considering jason was already huge, it felt like he was bruising every part of you and he knew it "c'mon baby.. take it all" " 's too big sir.. slower" "nuh uh, you like mouthing off so much, you're so big and strong right baby? stay still and fucking take it"

with bruce wayne i feel like it's a little different, it's more subtle. he doesn't mock you the way that jason does, its simply something that's in the air. it's on display whenever he holds you up with one arm firmly wrapped around your neck and the other wrapped around your torso. your back pressed against his chest and he completely dwarfs you, and he knows you like it "that's it... such a pretty girl, taking me so well. fuck, fits like a glove."

“We’re not going anymore, get on the bed.”

pairing. jason todd x reader

warnings. SMUT, use of pet names (ma), Jason being a horny bastard, he refers to your titties as ‘my pretty girls’, and your coochie as ‘she’

prompts used. “We’re not going anymore, get on the bed.” from smut prompt list

a/n. this one made me giggle. Jason just loves his girl

“Holy fuck,” Jason gawked at the sight of you in that pretty little red dress. Dick and Kory had invited the two of you on a double date, much to Jason’s dismay you wanted to go.

You glanced up at him, eyes wide and pretty like that lipgloss you were wearing, his words rang worry through you, “is it too much?” You ask nervously.

Jason snorts, “oh ma, it’s just enough.” He grins as he moves closer, hands on your hips, pulling you into him. His hands wander down your hips to your thighs as he presses kisses down your neck. “Red?”

You nodded, “wanted to wear your colour.”

Jason swears he could cum with just those words alone, the innocent and pure adoration you have for him and wanting to wear his colour. His colour, something to mark you as his.

“We’re not going anymore, get on the bed.”

“What—” you don’t get another word out when he tosses you over his shoulder, walking you over to the bed. “Jay, we told Dick we’d come.”

“Mhm,” he hums in response, not really listening to you as he presses kisses all over you chest. “You’re gonna be coming alright.”

“Jason!” You shriek as the spaghetti straps of your dress snap.

“Shhh, I’ll buy you another one.” He mumbles, freeing your breasts with a little grin, “there’s my girls. My pretty girls.” His big hands engulf them, pinching at your nipples before sucking one into your mouth.

He worked his way down your body, lifting up the bottom of your dress so its bunched around your hips, the pretty pink lace under your dress on display. “You’re so pretty, she’s all dressed up f’me.” He presses a kiss against the gusset of your panties, right against your clit.

“You ready, ma?” He looks up at you with all the love in world in his pretty eyes. “We’re not stopping until sunrise.. heh.” He snorts, “maybe not even then.” He adds before pulling your panties to the side and diving in.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

you were staring. very unabashedly so, too. just… oogling your boyfriend, watching as he lounged on your couch, his black shirt fitted around bulging arms, the hem riding up around his tummy to reveal that line of thick black hair that dipped below his plaid pants.

oh my god, those stupid plaid pants. they made you wonder what the hell the hype was about grey sweats, when those existed.

and it’s not like you had anything to be ashamed about, either. he was your boyfriend, all six foot something of him, for fucks sake. all the thick muscles, and short cropped hair, and scars, and fuck, those eyes. you could look if you damn well wanted to.

you’d tried very hard to convince yourself all morning that you were fine, and definitely not ovulating, and fine.

but in that moment, watching your boyfriend literally just sit there, eyes shut and head tipped back, this was not you. it was some evil entity, possessing you and in full swing. you were ready to jump him, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning yet.

your gaze kept dropping lower, toward those pecs, all soft and plush beneath the fabric of his tee, and you could feel yourself start to salivate.

it wasn’t even anything provocative either, but the sight of his tits in a black shirt, tight over the unflexed muscle, was driving you up a god damned wall.

you curled your legs up beneath you, arm perching you against the back of the couch, the other pressed between the low of your thighs to physically retrain yourself from grabbing him like a deranged person.

because, no matter what you did, it was almost impossible to stop imagining just throwing yourself at him, and doing some entirely unspeakable things. things you know you’d never do unless it was this god forsaken time of month.

“you good, ma?” Jason asked, finally breaking the tense silence, and drawing your attention away from his torso. he was staring back now, one brow raised quizzically, and his scared lip curled up in questioning.

“your eyes are dilatin’ and shit.”

yeah. you got up, wordlessly, and walked toward the kitchen.