Batch 5

batch 5

daddy’s girl, part two. jason todd x reader

summary: jason will do anything to prove he’s right, especially when it comes to his suspicion of you.

warning/s: swearing, unedited, gif not mine, very minor mention of sex and drug trafficking

slater’s note: uhh the titans season 3 trailer came out and that kinda gave me motivation to write for jason (even though i don’t take curran as the f/c)

part one, part two

jason watched you go with the flex of his jaw, his eyes drifting to the city lights before looking back through the glass door you had exited through. he tightened the grip he had around champagne bottle to the point his knuckle turned white and he swore he could feel the thick glass crack beneath his strong grip. 

he got up fast once you had fully disappeared after sliding yourself between bodies so fast and so easily. he threw the green champagne bottle to the ground, hearing it shatter from contact of the cement. 

something was not right.

he shoved people lightly out of the way as he made way to the exit of the ballroom in attempt to catch up with you, and lucky for him, you weren’t in any rush as you were only five feet away once he turned the corner with your dress flying around your waist mesmerizingly. 

“hey,” he called after you but you only kept walking while cursing at yourself for wearing the silver chain and going off on him. it was just too easy and he pissed you off enough for you to want to straggle him.. you knew who he was, what he had done, and how he felt so shameless about it.

you almost got away, telling yourself you just needed to cool down but jason had a hold of both your arms, pressing you up against the nicely wallpapered walls before you could get any further. 

“i’m going to ask you this once,” you could smell the alcohol practically leaking from his breath as his face was so close to yours, fierce and skeptical. “who gave you that necklace, some boyfriend of yours?”

“why are you so quick to guess it’s a boyfriend?” you quirked a brow, slightly smirking as you leaned closer. “you make all your girlfriends call you ‘daddy’, jason?”

the quirk of your brow and tip of your head in mock almost made him snap, but he suppressed it with the gripping of his hand tightly as he moved it above your head, but he couldn’t erase the light red that slowly spread across his cheeks and it made your smirk expand even more. the red almost wouldn’t be so visible if it weren’t for how close the two of you were.

“right,” you nodded, content with his silence as you slowly pushed him off.

he didn’t resist, watching you slowly make your way back down the hall where the staircase that lead to your rooms were. he contemplated going after you, calling after you, anything to have the upper hand once again but he couldn’t think of anything as he clasped his chin tightly, thinking of how off putting you suddenly were. how angry.

“oh, and jason,” your voice caught him, his eyes lifting to your own as you had stopped in your place halfway down the hall, turning slightly. “the next time you decide to do a run down on your father’s new daughter, don’t use alcohol as a way to get her to talk.. it could give the wrong idea.”

he frowned deeply, walking away before you could. 

were you blackmailing him?

jason ran a hand down his face while making his way back in the ballroom, not planning on staying much longer but rather only to say goodbye to dick, who was well out of his mind drunk from what jason could see out of the corner of his eye. 

he was dancing, laughing hysterically with girls attached to each of his hips, fully sporting out the true dick grayson he was. jason couldn't help but smile to himself as he grabbed onto a drink from a passing waiter, downing it as he shook his head, always finding amusement when dick got drunk. always flirting and always full of energy, never failing to leave smiles on faces. 

“you two seemed to have hit it off.” 

jason turned to see tim leaned up against the bar with a bottle of water, his eyebrows raised. it made jason roll his eyes slightly, almost guessing tim knew of the rift that suddenly was put in between the two of you. 

“yeah,” jason leaned against the bar with him, “best friends.” 

tim chuckled a little before sipping his water, “she’s a spitfire, isn’t she?”

“no kidding,” jason swallowed down the rest of his whisky filled glass before his eyes landed back on dick who was slowly dragging himself out of the crowd of women that surrounded him, making his way in the direction of him and tim. “a little nasty.” 

tim shook his head in amusement before dick joined his other side with a rather wide smile on his face. he tapped the top of the bar, signaling the bartender to slide him a drink, “you two enjoying yourselves?”

“not as much as you, dicky,” jason took ahold of another glass of whisky, smirking at his brother who had begun to down another glass of alcohol. 

it wasn’t exactly a usual thing for dick to get drunk out of his mind, but it was christmas after all and there was no sign of alfred or bruce’s figure to offer a shameful glare to him. 

“loosen up, jason,” dick clapped the boy on the back, “you looked like you were out on the balcony with y/n... where is she anyway?” his eyes were going everywhere at once, reaching the ceiling, the floor, and sometimes lightly grazing tim and jason’s faces as he spoke. 

jason exhaled sharply, “i wasn’t going to say this, but there is something very off about that girl.” 

tim looked to dick before they both looked back to jason, both very amused at his words and tone. dick downed the last of his drink before scoffing lightly, “you sure you aren’t just jealous that bruce found a new stubborn, hard headed teen that soaks up most of his time?”

jason scowled before dry laughing along with them.

“what’s up, jay,” dick fell from his drunken state by the snap of his fingers, turning serious as he put down his glass, elevating his body so he’s facing jason better. “not so fond of the girl who can beat your ass?”

tim and dick giggled lowly. 

“no,” he dipped his head a little low, dumbfounded at the fact they weren’t taking his words seriously, “she’s fucking weird.” 

“weird?” tim’s eyebrows raised, sipping his drink as if trying to hide the redness in his cheeks, “wow, okay, we're getting a little.. technical here.” 

“look, i’ve met many weird girls and she definitely isn’t one of them.”

“no one cares about the weird girls you’ve slept with, grayson,” jason waved him off, his eyes closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “this is different, there’s something off about her, alright?”

“there's something off about all of us, todd,” tim put down his water bottle, also maneuvering himself to face jason a bit better, “i mean bruce picked her himself, why would she be anything normal?”

“you both are alike jason, maybe that’s why you think she's odd,” dick nodded, diverting his attention from the two of his brothers, more specifically jason before pushing up and off the bar, ready to submerge himself with women once more. 

°•

the air was cold and the last of the gotham snow was melting away as spring was slowly setting in with the lessen of snow fall and increase of rainfall. this was something that jason always enjoyed as he would watch the slush fall into the sewer drains with the push of the rain while he drove through the city on his motorcycle. 

it had been months since jason had made an appearance in the old wayne manner.. like usual and something none of you were quite surprised by, especially you. 

it didn’t take long for you to figure out the habits and insights of jason todd. despite only having three occurrences with him, you were smart enough to fill in the pieces you hadn’t figured out yet from asking your rather opened mouth brothers who took your questions as a curious mind.. and it was a given for anyone who has encountered jason todd to ask questions. 

with your last occurrence with the man, you would have guessed you would have never saw him again, but with your readings on him, you would have also guessed you would being seeing him very much with his obvious curiosity as to who you were.. he was very unsettled by you. 

you weren’t home when he had first arrived but rather at the gotham private school bruce had enrolled you in almost immediately after you had been adopted. 

you hated it. 

alfred had dropped you off at the front door before driving off toward the garage, leaving you to your after school routine that concluded sulking in your bedroom for an hour before you emerged back into the real world where you did your homework and helped alfred with dinner. 

you were quite the treat, well behaved, and well mannered despite jason’s belief that you were anything but that. a liar to be more specific, or even someone who knew how to manipulate people real well. whatever it was... he knew you were hiding something. 

you entered the manner with your lips pressed into a thin line as you ran your fingers through the pages of the book you held, deeply soaked in the words that you whispered to yourself before you stopped walking, reading the last of the page before looking up and over rather quickly into the parlor where you saw the familiar figure of jason. 

he was staring at you blankly, making it hard for you to read him. 

you returned the expression, looking him up and down before allowing your backpack to slowly fall from your shoulders to your forearm, stuffing your book into the bag, “long time no see, todd.”

he stays silent, keeping himself comfortable with his arms stretched across the top of the couch. 

“bruce isn’t here if you were-”

“i’m not here for bruce.” he said nothing more creating the atmosphere to be even more uncomfortable and strange than it already was. 

you rose your eyebrows, slightly leaning back, “okay..?”

you walked away. 

within the couple months jason had been absent from your life and the rest of the adoptive children of bruce, he had been conducting business that circulated all around you. 

no matter how he tried, he couldn’t get you out of his head after the stupid christmas eve ball. with your silk green dress and that stupid familiar looking silver chain and-and your quick spiteful attitude after he had trashed bruce’s name. he couldn’t stop replaying your words and body language in his mind.. all in attempt to get a better read on you, but he failed... leading him to-

“where have you been, kid?”

jason looked up to see dick with his shoulders sunken and looking rather exhausted through his eyes. the whole reason he had came to the manor in the first place was because of dick, wanting to finally prove that there was something up with you. 

“sit down, grayson.” 

he sighed, quirking a brow, “what is it this time?” 

“you seen that chain around her neck?”  “who's neck?” dick took a seat in one of the parlor leather chairs across from jason. 

“y/n’s.”

he sighed again, diverting his eyes from jason as he thought about how ridiculous this conversation just got, “what about the chain, jason?”

“you know what’s on there right? what it says?”

“’daddy’s girl’, yeah, so what? a gift from bruce, he got all of us a piece of jewelry,” dick rose his left hand for examination, showing the gold ring that laid on his index finger that bruce had gifted him years ago. 

jason scoffed, “’daddy’s girl’? c’mon grayson, you know that’s fucking weird, especially for bruce. besides he’s not cheap. he got her a gold locket, not a silver chain,” he watched dick frown, now thinking about it a little deeper, “your a detective grayson, you’d think you’d be just as skeptical as me in the first place.” 

dick crossed his arms, “boyfriend..?” the thought was mortifying to him sense dick felt like an older brother to you, but he couldn’t rule it out.

jason looked at him, licking the inside of cheek as his face lightly turned red at the memory of him saying the same thing and your reply, “no. she said no.” 

“okay then don’t look at me like i’m some weirdo when i know you thought the exact same thing.”  “i never said you were-” “but you looked at me-” “dick, don’t,” jason gave him a pointed look, “it’s deeper than that.” “what is?” “the goddamn chain.” 

dick stayed silent before nodding his head, signaling jason to elaborate. 

“i thought it looked rather familiar, and i had been kicking myself all night the moment i saw it, knowing i had seen it before somewhere until i finally looked back through all the old missions bruce and i had been through and.. goddamn fucking bingo,” jason threw a file on the parlor coffee table, causing it to slightly slide closer to dick. he stared at the manila folder hesitantly before looking back up jason, “the old reodem rich case.. sex and drug trafficker who owned at least a dozen strip clubs, each with twenty girls all branded the same with a silver chain all engraved with ‘daddy's girl’.” 

taglist I navigation 

@reality-runaway @greengarsstuff @i-love-scott-mccall @pradastardust @little-miss-naill @peach-buns-unicorns @obsessedsadgirl @heyquxxns @dayanaralight @black-rose-29 @hexesonmonday @firefliesindaylight @lowhangingtreebranches @bananablam

headers/moodboards/aesthetics

set one.

batch 1. vhs —

batch 2. vhs —

batch 3. vhs —

batch 4. vhs —

batch 5. vhs —

batch 6. vhs —

batch 7. vhs —

batch 8. vhs —

batch 9. vhs —

Love Language

Summary: Tommy doesn’t say ‘I love you’.

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)

A/N: Sweet anon asked: Hello i love you’re writing! Can i request a tommy one shot imagine where the reader (his girlfriend or wife) finds out in his office, one of the locked drawers has everytning shes ever given to him? Maybe like love letters or random flowers everything he keep 😍🤍 thank you so mych. This request was so amazing to me, because you it made me feel like you understand this character so well? Either way, it made me think, and this is the result. It’s kinda different but I hope you like it! Words: 1448

***

“Tommy?” “Hmm,” the preoccupied reply came. You sounded defeated, against your best efforts, “I love you.”  “I know.” 

***

There’s blood on his shirt. It’s the first thing you noticed when he walked in. Not the mud, not his eyes, not his energy, just the blood on his shirt.

“Who’s is it,” you asked as casually as you could. Tommy lit a cigarette in reply. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” he drew out the ‘s’ like he usually did when annoyed or tired. “Who was it?” you continued. “Y/N,” he held up a hand, “not tonight, eh? Not with the hundred fucking questions tonight, alright?” You remained silent for as long as you could bear, “Just need to know you’re safe.” “You knew who you married,” a low voice replied. “I did.” Tommy stood up again slowly started to walk away.

“Do not,” you hissed, “walk away from me.” “Y/N, what the fuck do you want from me, eh?” he raised his voice, “This is me. This is who I am. And I’m doing it all to give you everything you want. To keep you safe. Alright?” You leaned forward and tried to lock eyes with him, “What I want, Thomas Shelby, is you. In one piece, preferably.” “I know,” he lowered his voice again, “And I understand.” He waved a hand like he was about to say more, but didn’t. “It’s because I love you,” you emphasized. He nodded slowly, “And that’s why I’m doing all of this.”

***

You were sitting at your desk writing. Some people seemed to think that being married to Tommy Shelby was a fulltime job and it could be if you’d let it, but not for you. Even before Tommy you’d been a writer, a journalist and an author of short stories. Neatly you typed them out and send them to the publishers in question. It was the one thing in life that always offered you solace.

“You spelled ‘enthusiastic’ wrong,” you husband commented helpfully after having popped up suddenly behind you. You ripped the page irritably, “Says the man who never even went to school.” “Life taught me how to spell, Y/N,” he sort of joked. “Life taught youhow to spell ‘enthusiastic’? Can’t remember the last time you were ever enthusiastic about anything…” He raised one eyebrow slowly, “How about ‘sarcasm’, can you spell that? Or ‘devil’, how about that, eh?” You pouted theatrically, “Sometimes I’m not even sure you take me and my work seriously…” “Oh, I take it seriously,” Tommy took a drag from his cigarette, “I know it’s enough to keep my wife away from me.” You smiled back at him when he did, but still a pang of hurt went through you: you’d give up everything just to have him say ‘I’m so proud of you sweetheart’. Just once.

***

“Come on,” he whispered. You looked up. “Come on,” he repeated, cigarette hanging from his lips, “let’s go upstairs.” “Why?” you asked, as you already started to follow him. Once inside the bedroom, he started undressing you with surprising tenderness. “Tommy,” you breathed, “look at me. What is it you want?” As a reply without words he gazed at your body, like he was drinking in very detail and getting drunk at the mere sight of it. “You and me, Tommy,” you said in between kisses, “remember it’s you and me. Fuck the rest of them. Fuck your family. Fuck the whole world. I love you and you love me. It’s you and me and nothing can ever come between us, right?” As he took off his own shirt, he gently pushed you down onto the bed.

“You and me, right Tommy?” you repeated, a little breathless as his head disappeared between your legs. “No,” he finally spoke, “you.”

*** Thomas Shelby had a long day of dealing with renegade family and dangerous enemies, so when he got back home, all he wanted was his wife and some peace and quiet.

“I cooked,” you said as you lingered against the doorpost. Tommy looked tired, worn-out, dead almost, with his head in his hands, “even told the cook to take the evening off,” you commented while your voice sounded flat. It was funny, because your emotions were all over the place, but your exterior just didn’t show any of it.

He slowly lifted his head, “You did, eh?” “Thought you might like it…” you fidgeted in spite of yourself. “I pay that cook for her to actually fucking cook,” he grumbled. “Fine,” you snapped, “I’ll feed it to the dog,” and you started to walk away. “Wait…” “What?” You didn’t even really turn around. Tommy sighed again and for a moment it was like he noticed the disappointment in your eyes, “What did you cook?” “Mint leaves. Your favourite.” And then a minor miracle took place and Tommy Shelby actually smiled a little.

***

“You were late today. I waited.” “I’m sorry.” “Are you?” “I am.” “Do you love me?” “Yes.” “Tell me.” “I do. Every day.” “Not with words…” “No, not with words.” “Tommy, tell me again.” ***

You were still half-asleep in Tommy’s arms. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. Outside, the sun wasn’t up yet, but it wouldn’t take long now.

Next to you, there was a gun on the table. Tommy had just taught you how to shoot. He’d shown you over and over again, even though you’d protested. But he said you might need it one day. On the other side there were his cigarettes and whiskey. His medicine. His comfort. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. But for how long? How long would it be until he’d die by his own gun, or get killed in some fight? Or met some other girl, prettier and smarter than you? As if he could read your insecurities, he shifted in his sleep and hugged you even closer to him. Thomas Shelby might not be perfect or a gentleman or eloquent when it came to expressing his love, but he did hold you at night.

***

“Tommy?” you shouted out through the house, “THOMAS!” “Fucking hell, woman,” his head appeared around the corner, “What is it?” Slightly embarrassed by your own volume, you said, “I can’t find the scissors.” “They’re in my desk somewhere,” he put on his cap and added, “I need to see a man about a horse. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” You made your way to the desk that was always so tidy and neat. So you did as any sensible woman would do and turned over everything in search of a pair of scissors. Nothing. Angrily you threw down a pile of papers. And that’s when you noticed it. One drawer hadn’t been opened at all. When you tried it, you found it locked. But you were a girl from Small Heath and no locked drawer could stop you. In less than twenty seconds you had managed to force the lock en slid the secret hiding place open. Inside there were more papers, neatly stacked and tied together with pieces of string in different piles. Breathlessly you took them from the drawer and examined them one by one. “Still looking for those scissors, eh?” a low voice grumbled in your ear and you practically jumped from fear. “For fuck’s sake, Thomas,” you mumbled as you tried to hide the papers you’d just found. Tommy was eyeing them already, but didn’t say a word.

So you went back through them, “These are the letters I wrote to you, when you were in France. I thought you threw away everything. Your medals, everything…” He didn’t reply. Tears sprang into your eyes as you examined the second pile, “And these are all my short stories. Did you cut them from the papers? Did you really keep them all?” You quickly went through them and they were all there, from the very first one ever published, “And these, my articles…”

Tommy cleared his throat once and cast his eyes down when you looked at him. Lastly there was a small box. When you opened it, you found, “The rose I wore, when we were kids. The one my brother stole…” And now you couldn’t find the words, “I hardly… I didn’t even know you… back then. Why?” Tommy grabbed his case and started searching for a cigarette. “Tommy,” you insisted, “I had no idea. Why did you keep all of these?” “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he smirked lightly. You stared at the content of the secret drawer and decided that nothing was ever obvious when it came to Thomas Shelby. “Well?” you questioned. “I love you.”

*** Masterlist

elle i literally just wrote part two 😭😭 i’ll publish it in the morning after i get it edited ily

ricky ik ur getting hella asks about your writing but are you gonna continue “friends with benefits”?

yes, i’m just so trash at updating right now (especially with uh cobra kai) 😭

how far are you from 1k followers??

oh haha i hit it just a couple of days ago (thank you guys).