Image how confused the entire Bat family would be if Jason— touch repulsed, wants to work alone, barely even tolerates them most days— Todd finally gets sucked into one of Bruce's charity events, only to come with a date who he *cannot* keep his hands off. I'm talking, has his arm draped around her waist or over her shoulder whenever they're walking, hugging her from behind with his jaw on top of her hair (carefully though, so he won't mess it up), occasionally randomly kissing the back of her hand, or her cheek, or very quickly her neck before she smacks him away playfully.
And the media LOVES this.
The reporters who usually bother Bruce about his company, Dick about his romantic life, Damian about school, Duke about being recently legally adopted, Cass about her improving speech skills, Tim about recent publicity statements, all suddenly leave them alone to take picture after picture of Jason and whoever his date is. And Jason—has threatened, attempted, and actually punched reporters— Todd doesn't even care. He doesn't bat an eye, (pun intended) because they should take pictures with how gorgeous she looks.
He'd be offended if they didn't.
And when she blushes, getting a bit shy after hearing a few too many clicks, he runs a hand up and down her arm, tearing her away from the buffet to dance. Dance. Yes, Bruce thought he'd lost his mind when he saw his son whisk a beautiful woman into the middle of the room, willingly, even eagerly wrapping his arms around her comfortably and familiarly, while she rests her head against his chest and he rests his cheek against the side of your head, his eyes fluttering shut every once in a while.
Of course, his family tried to get to talk to him, really, they did. Something or someone conveniently got in the way every single time, until the event is over and Jason and his date manage to slip out in the crowd before the family gets to interrogate him about it.
His phone? He has to shut it off from all the calls and texts that overwhelm his inbox. Alfred even sent an email.
When he eventually does pick it up after having it on do not disturb for a while, he simply types in the group chat, "You told me to bring a date." Before putting it face down on the nightstand and rolling over in bed to wrap his arms around her, kissing her temple softly as she sleeps, out of your fancy dress and in his arms, where she belongs.
Imagine if Jason Todd, who 6'2, easily over 240+ pounds, always equipped with enough weapons to scare anyone away, and is practically afraid of nothing, mentions something along the lines of his girlfriend being intimidating.
His brothers are asking if he wants to stay for a bit to catch up and he thanks them but leaves, saying something like: "I would, but I made my girl a promise and she's scary when she's mad."
Of course, he's not genuinely scared in any serious way. But he does clearly mean it whenever he tells them he has to go because he doesn't want to make you upset. You sometimes really did match his temper...and his pettiness.
You had once locked him out of the apartment and pushed so much stuff in front of the door (because of course he tried to pick the lock) that he couldn't get in until he called you from the hallway and apologized for breaking a promise.
His brothers know what it takes for someone like Jason to actually be worried about the consequences of his actions. They're pretty sure the last woman they remember him really being intimidated by was Artemis. For a very good reason.
But that begged the question, if it took someone like her—6'0, Amazonian woman, with a sword and no qualms about violence, to get to Jason...what did you look like?
They'd take bets, obviously. Maybe you had a history of violence too, maybe you were an expert with knives or something, maybe you were freakishly tall or had super strength to crush Jason when he upset you.
But no. No one ended up winning the bet because none of them had ever considered you being...normal?
Not just normal, but rather petite. And sweet. What a weird combination for someone Jason was dating.
They were sure you must have a fire breathing mutation or something that makes you scary. But your grip wasn't very strong when you shook their hand, you barely came up to their brother's ribcage standing next to him, you had a cute laugh and apparently no criminal record.
That was another shock. Who in Gotham hasn't been arrested? Rightfully or not. The only real violation they found was a parking ticket and it shouldn't have surprised them when you said you were four minutes past the allowed time to be in the space.
"So... you're just...normal, then?" Dick asked, skeptically.
You nodded just as confused. "I guess?" You answered, glancing at Jason.
"No secret past as an assassin or multiple personalities that might be violent?" Tim questioned. "What about super strength? Or talent with guns?"
"That's more Jason's thing," you responded. "I don't really like guns. I make him keep them locked up."
They stared at you, blinking in confusion.
"Do you Martial arts?" Damian asked. "Or like fire to an excessive amount that makes you fantasize about starting them or perhaps hurting others with hot tools like a cattle prod?"
You pursed your lips, huddling a bit closer to Jason, gazing back at them all with growing apprehension. "I don't really know how to respond to that," you admitted, eyes wide in a bit of disturbance. "ANY of that... actually."
Dick and Tim weren't expecting much when they visited—broke into— Jason's apartment. Honestly, despite never being there (because frankly they thought he'd open fire for their trespassing) they had very low expectations for his living style.
After all, Jason was used to the bare minimum. Pretty much all of his past safe houses were almost empty, sans a place to sleep, research, and hide things.
When they got there, picking the window lock on the 5th floor of a nearly empty apartment building in a much shadier area of town, they were expecting the same thing they had always seen—take out containers, traps, a messy bed laying on the floor without a frame. Probably some rat traps and maybe a few threatening signs, telling them to get out.
Instead, they found a fully furnished apartment that smelled of... cinnamon? Vanilla? What was that smell? They weren't sure, but it was sweet.
The couch had matching cushions, the tv was on a stand instead of sitting on the ground, the kitchen actually had a basket of fruit on the counter instead of a trashcan filled with old Chinese food.
"This is ...weird," Tim muttered, swiping his hand over the countertop, expecting dust but finding it clean and smelling of lemon cleaning product. "Are you sure this is the right place?"
Dick nodded. "According to the most recent address we have," he replied, glancing around at the art on the wall and the blankets strewn over the couch. "I sure as hell hope it is. Otherwise we just broke into someone's apartment."
That would definitely be bad. Especially if Bruce found out.
Thankfully it was only a few seconds later that Jason walked out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. Which, to their relief proved that they had the correct address.
He stopped dead in his tracks, his hair still messy from sleep, his voice still gravely as he asked, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Uh...we needed your help," Tim answered, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Did you just wake up?"
It certainly looked like it. After all, he was still in his sweatpants, no shirt in sight. It was after eleven am, though. They had assumed he would be up by now.
Jason heaved a sigh, crossing their path to start a pot of coffee. "And it couldn't have been a text message? Or a phone call?"
"Not really," Dick replied, watching his brother look through a drawer of coffee pods.
Since when did Jason drink anything other than straight black instant coffee that was probably three days old and freezing cold?
Tim, despite the mild befuddled expression, went on to elaborate about their visit. "Look we know you have the day off, but there's new information on the case with Penguin and Bruce said—"
"Jay?"
Tim stopped as he was interrupted, his eyebrows cinching as he turned his head to the voice of the sound.
You.
Your eyes were as wide, if not wider than theirs when you walked in, wearing far less than acceptable clothing in the form of a bra and shorts that were a smidge too tight.
"Who the hell..." Dick was already muttering, like a deer in headlights.
It took Jason all of two seconds to grab his favorite jacket, putting it over your shoulders to keep them from seeing any more of your skin than he found acceptable.
Even as you pulled it tightly to cover your attire, the jacket, which swallowed most of you, still hit your thighs. Their eyes cast down at your bare legs as you tugged his jacket lower awkwardly.
"Hey!" Jason snapped both figuratively and literally, his voice loud and his fingers waving in their faces. "Eyes up here."
"huh? Wh- sorry," Dick murmured, still confused as he motioned to you. "We weren't expecting uh... anyone else to be here..."
"Yeah, that makes four of us, I'm sure," you mumbled quietly, glancing over your shoulder at Jason who towered over you. "I'm just gonna...go get dressed."
He nodded, his hands still on your shoulders as he stood behind you. "Good idea."
Slowly backing away as his hands left your shoulders you waved weakly. "It was...nice meeting you," you remarked with an awkward nose scrunch, pointing over your shoulder. "I'll uh... I'll be in the bedroom."
As you left, the door shutting quickly and loudly, Dick and Tim could both see the look in their brother's eyes which simultaneously told them not to ask and to never ever say a word about you walking out in your pajamas like that.
"I guess we know where the throw pillows came from," Tim noted.
Jason usually paid for his own stuff. Call his habit of self-reliance or his refusal to crawl to his father for financial help. Whatever. He liked to take care of his own bills.
It wasn't usually hard. He had a pretty good savings from that short term he spent as a drug lord... Not that the family ever mentioned it. He lived within his means, never feeling the need to splurge or spend a ton of money aside from rent, groceries, and yeah, the occasional random present for you.
But that didn't mean he didn't have access to more money. A lot more. Bruce, after all, gave all of his kids their own credit cards attached to his personal bank account. He just hoped they would choose to not clean him out. For the most part, they were all responsible.
Tim and Dick had their own money, Duke had always been one to spend rarely. Cassandra splurged on new dance shoes and Damian spent an absurd amount of money on the finest animal food. But overall, he rarely bothered to notice any spending habits. Especially not Jason's. He had never once used the money Bruce gave him access to. Ever.
Even when Jason bought your engagement and wedding ring, he paid for it himself. Although part of him wanted to buy you the biggest diamond possible, he knew you wouldn't care about the size or cut as much as the promise he was making you.
That said, when you found out you were pregnant and he started doing the math, not to mention watching you flip through magazines and get excited about decorating the nursery or buy cute onesies...he just couldn't give you a limit.
He wasn't capable of seeing how sad you looked when your pants no longer fit and tell you only to buy a new pair or two when he knew he wanted you to have an entire new wardrobe to feel as comfortable as you could during pregnancy.
He knew he wanted you to have the most perfect nursery possible, the nicest crib, the comfiest pregnancy pillow so you could sleep on your stomach. He wanted you to attend as many of those seminars or practice classes as you wanted to, since you were so worried about screwing the baby up.
He wanted you to have every single one of your cravings even if you wanted ridiculously expensive lobsters or difficult to find fruits that he had to get imported from another country.
That's why, when Jason's card suddenly starts lighting up like a Christmas tree, Bruce gets confused. And then he sees the stores being hit— a maternity clothing shop, a toy place, a furniture store and paint store.
And Bruce, being Bruce, assumes Jason is being Jason. He probably lost his credit card or had it stolen and refused to tell anyone because he was embarrassed about it. Bruce was going to turn off the card, until it crossed his mind the kind of purchases being made.
If someone was stealing to buy baby supplies, he didn't want the police or insurance company involved. He never wanted to break up a family. So, instead he just tracked the purchases for a while. And eventually, when he realized you were making the same purchase at some expecting mother's class, he decided to show up and handle things himself.
He hoped he could get you to give him the credit card back in exchange for not pressing charges. What he hadn't been expecting was how you reacted to him approaching you.
Unlike he anticipated, you didn't run, didn't panic, didn't apologize. You just said it was nice to finally meet him. That you had been looking forward to it for a long time and really appreciate all he had been doing for you.
"What I've done?" He repeated, taking your absurdly large purse from you. You may have been a thief but he was still a gentleman and you were very...very pregnant.
You nodded, brows furrowing slightly. "Paying for the nursery and everything," you responded. "I know the wallpaper was kind of expensive but it was the only one Jason and I could agree on and he said it would be fine since—"
"Jason said it was fine?" He interjected, pulling you a bit further to the side of the lobby you were in. "Jason knows you have his credit card?"
You frowned, nodding again slower. "Of course he does," you said with confusion. "He said you wouldn't even notice the purchases but I wanted to be sure. He said he checked with you..."
Clearly, he hadn't. You were suddenly putting the pieces together and you couldn't tell if you were more worried about your father in law hating you or more busy being pissed at your husband.
Bruce shook his head. "He never mentioned loaning money to.... anyone."
The tone of his voice made it clear he didn't know who you were or why you had been given Jason's card. Which led to you panicking, admittedly. And rushing to assure him you weren't a thief, just his daughter in law.
"It wasn't a huge ceremony or anything, otherwise we would have had you there, I swear," you told him. "I even asked Jay and he said you were out of town and we didn't want to wait and then we found out I was pregnant— not that I was during the wedding or anything. That's not why we got married in such a rush."
You were rambling, hoping he would believe you or at the very least not have you arrested.
Bruce held up his hands. "Wait, wait," he demanded. "You're...my daughter in law?" He questioned, watching you nod slowly. His eyes fell towards your large stomach. "And you're having a baby? My first grandchild?"
"Grandchildren," you replied hesitantly. "Twins."
"Twins..." He repeated, feeling stunned. "He never said anything to me."
"oh," you whispered softly. "I- I'm sorry, he said he would. I would have reached out if I had known—"
"no. No, Jason has always kept to himself," Bruce assured you. "He likes his privacy."
You nodded, well aware of his tendencies and how long it took to break through his many, many, walls. He'd been absolutely lovely once he managed to admit he loved you, but before that it was on and off again, with him getting shy every time things got even remotely domestic or serious.
"He does," you murmured. "But that's really no excuse. I mean my parents have been at our apartment practically every day. It's tough to get rid of them."
Your mom kept cooking, insisting you had meals that were healthy for the babies and putting extra in the freezer for when you were no doubt too tired to cook after labor. And your dad had assembled pretty much everything in nursery twice, claiming it needed to be even more sturdy in case you bumped into it at night or the babies grew quickly.
Bruce nodded slowly, hiding his hurt as he caught up. "Your...parents are very involved then," he noted quietly. "That's nice."
"Very," you agreed. "And I know there's been quite a few purchases. Jason and I fully intend to pay them back, it's just that we put everything off and there was a limit to our cards so Jason thought—" That Bruce would never in a million years notice a few thousand bucks missing.
"I understand," he interjected. "There's no need to pay it back."
"Oh no, I insist and I know Jason will too," you replied. "My parents taught me to always pay back a loan—"
"Then consider it a gift," Bruce corrected. "For my...my future grandkids. I want them to have whatever they need." More than that, even. "Whatever you want, just put it on the card. It's fine."
"I- are you sure?" You asked, watching him nod. "Thank you," you said breaking into a smile of relief.
He knew how financially taxing kids could be and even though he never had a newborn let alone two, he was sure that was even more expensive. The least he could do was pay for it.
"It's no problem," Bruce promised, truly meaning it.
"You should come to dinner," you suddenly suggested. "I mean, if you're free of course. Mom is making steak, she's been pushing red meat. She says it's supposed to be good for the baby."
"I couldn't intrude," he muttered. "But thank you."
Your face dropped slightly but you nodded, not pushing it. "Oh, alright. Another time, then?"
He nodded. "Of course," he agreed. "I'd like that."
With another smile, you took your bag back, the heavy straps making you tilt slightly as you said goodbye, explaining you had to meet Jason for something.
He smiled back, but when you left he stood there for several more moments, simply processing everything. All that he had missed. His son had found a partner who made him want to commit, they had gotten married, they were even expecting children. And he hadn't known anything.
Imagine Jason Todd saves his significant other as Red Hood during some citywide crisis that has the entire family present and they all just stand there, super confused.
Yeah, the whole city is going up in flames and that sucks but there's something slightly more important witnessing Jason pull you out of the fire and gently pat the flames out of your shirt before wiping the soot off your face to make sure you weren't burned anywhere.
And there's something oddly intimate about the way this *random* civilian is holding onto him a little too tightly for a little too long after he puts you down but they can't exactly question it because what would they say?
Plenty of civilians get attached to their vigilante personas, especially if they're being saved. Some even become freakily obsessed. Which is why Bruce wants to remind Jason that they have rules about what is and isn't an acceptable way to interact with civilians, but he doesn't, because he's too busy talking to Oracle while watching out of the corner of his eye as Jason says your name sweetly to calm you down and gets you to take a few deep breaths.
But watching you squeeze Jason's arm in a reassuring way before promising you're alright and rushing home to where it's much safer, he absolutely makes a mental note to give his son a lecture about getting too friendly with the people he saves later.
He just has to put that on the back burner until after the city is no longer literally on fire.
You, meanwhile, head home to your shared apartment and lock the door, flipping on the news and waiting patiently for Jason to come home so you can tend to his wounds while he panics about your safety even though the fire barely scorched your clothes.
Despite the fact that Clark Kent was 6'3 (while slouching), 225 pounds, and otherwise incredibly built, he was perhaps the least physically intimidating person alive. In fact, he was practically terrified of his own features—the same ones that made you utterly melt.
It wasn't until you discovered his identity as Superman that you realized the reason his hands never actually touched you during hugs, and he preferred you holding his arm over holding hands with each other. He was afraid. He always had been, in a way, but it was usually manageable.
That was because he wasn't trying to pursue a relationship.
You were affectionate, craving attention in whatever form possible, from cuddling on the couch to just grazing his pinky with yours while at lunch. And you wished he would return it more than he did. He wanted to. He really did. It was just so damn hard when he was terrified to hurt you. He'd never forgive himself if he did something that harmed you in any way.
The more physical your relationship became, the harder it became to reduce contact to the minimum amount he could get away with. You wanted more and so did he. But he could crush you without even meaning to, break your bones by just holding your hips, maybe even something worse than both of those things.
No, if you needed intimacy, he would gladly give it to you, since he wanted it just as badly, but he'd refrain from doing anything that could cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort or harm. You, being on top, was the only sensible answer.
Not to mention, incredibly attractive.
You always were, but there was something about the angle, about him just laying there, staring at you, watching you get lost in your own euphoria that drove him insane. The way your hair kept falling into your face, your fingernails kept digging further into the skin of his shoulders or chest, how your eyes sparkled brighter than usual.
To say nothing of how you actually felt, your hips soft against his bare skin with every slight roll you made, grinding against him slowly to prolong your time together as long as possible.
He could barely handle your usual smile, but the one you were giving him right now, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress a little huff of laughter made his heart clench.
"What?" He wondered, his breathing a bit heavy. He was doing a terrible job of keeping his composure and was pretty sure you could tell.
You shook your head, your hands planted firmly on his chest while admiring the way his head always tilted when he was curious. "Nothing," you mumbled, the word taking a little while to find since you had to focus enough to remember how to speak. "You just..." Your lips pursed as one especially long drag of your hips made your breath hitch. "... You're like a pillow prince." You teased a moment later.
Clark's mouth dropped a little, in surprise but not offense. You weren't exactly wrong. He was laying there, his hands behind his head, watching you do all the work, like always. But it wasn't because he wanted to. In fact, he was itching to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his hands and it was taking all his restraint not to flip you over. He just couldn't risk it.
"Maybe I just like the view," he replied, his hips jerking up slightly when he felt you clench around him. His jaw tightened at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he reveled in the feeling for a moment. "You—" he swallowed, his eyes opening. "—are you so perfect on top of me."
Another bashful smile spread across your face as you dropped your head and resisted the urge to move your hair, afraid that if he moved his hands, he'd lose control entirely.
"You like watching me struggle," you muttered, your hands moving to his shoulders to grip them tightly, your movements slowing to a stop, trying to catch your breath. "Admit it..." You panted. "... you're a sadist."
He laughed, his body shaking under you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he assured you. "You're doing good for me."
You hummed slightly at the praise, closing your eyes for a moment. "It's exhausting," you admitted, your legs killing you despite the enjoyment. "Always so... difficult."
"I know," he responded sympathetically, hesitantly removing his hands from behind your back, hovering them over your thighs for a while, contemplating before carefully setting his hands on them. He just couldn't resist anymore. You were too damn tempting.
You moved your hands to cover his, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You gonna help me, for once?" You murmur, trying to joke but failing. The words came out with too much lust for that.
He nodded slightly, focusing on making sure his fingers didn't accidentally dig into your skin too hard. "Tell me," he said seriously, staring into your eyes. "The second I take it too far."
You nodded, leaning down to kiss him. "You're not going to hurt me," you whispered. "I trust you."
Thinking about Smallville Clark Kent who is practically a golden retriever around you and gets nervous about sleeping with you for the first time because he doesn't want to hurt you or alert his parents by accident, so he finds himself covering your mouth the instant you make a sound, entirely by mistake.
And he apologizes immediately, but doesn't remove his hand because you're still whining into it. He can't tell exactly if that's a good or bad thing, at first, until your eyes roll back, making his heart skip a beat and he finally realizes it is in fact a good thing. Finally bottoming out, he'd remove his hand from your mouth, panting from anticipation even though he's barely done anything.
"Please be quiet," he practically begs, pressing his forehead against yours, literally shaking with anticipation but trying to be as gentle as possible for you. "Can you do that for me?" He asks. You nod poorly but the second he makes the slightest bit of movement you're whimpering and he's covering your mouth again and apologizing for it.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I love those little sounds, I promise. I just don't want anyone else hearing them but me." And it soothes you, of course, because you feel bad for not being able to stay quiet. Not that he's doing much better, only suppressing his moans by turning them into quieter grunts that he muffles by pressing his lips against your neck or biting down on your shoulder. "I can barely keep my mouth shut because of you," he praises. "I swear next time, I'll let you scream." And there was definitely a next time.
Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!
Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?
Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!) (Pt. 2)
The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.
Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.
The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.
Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.
Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.
You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.
"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."
With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"
"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."
It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.
The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.
It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.
Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.
"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"
"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.
"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."
He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.
Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.
But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.
"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.
"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.
"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."
"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."
You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.
You still had to find a dress.
Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.
He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.
In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.
He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.
You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.
But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.
He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.
Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.
"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"
"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.
You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"
"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."
"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.
"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."
He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.
You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"
He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.
"Will you bring me back?"
Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.
You gave up and left with him.
Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.
He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.
Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.
"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.
"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.
He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.
"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"
"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."
And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.
For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.
Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.
He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.
Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.
"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.
"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."
Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.
You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."
He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.
"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.
A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.
So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.
Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.
Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.
"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.
"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.
He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.
The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.
"Jay?!" You exclaimed.
"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."
Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.
He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.
Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.
"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.
He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.
You stormed out on him.
And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.
"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.
Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.
You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.
"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.
"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.
"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.
"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."
His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.
You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"
"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"
You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.
"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.
(+Bonus)
It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.
So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.
You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.
"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."
"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.
"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.
You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.
He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.
He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.
You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."
He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.
