• TOMMY SHELBY IMAGINES •

drunk tommy

He's drunk, and giggly, and weird. Now I only add weird because I've never really seen Thomas Shelby drunk. It's a funny thing to see, but definitely not a sight I want to see again.

He's supposed to be this controlled, somber, midly-dunk man. Not a slurring, flirtatious drunk who seems to be unaware of what is going on in the world.

He comes stumbling into the house, smelling of whiskey and cigarettes. And he storms in, literally falling into things, stubbing his toe twice. Cursing out loud.

I lay on my stomach, trying to sleep peacefully when he opens the door and flicks on the lights.

"Oi!" He yells, causing you to jump.

Thomas always come in peacefully. Not like this. Never like this. And of course, he picks a day that I do not want to tolerate this shit.

"I'm home, woman!"

"Okaaaaay." I groan, "Turn off the damn lights, Tom!"

You know, I've always been a bitch in the mornings, I liked my sleep! But seeing as I'm on my period, I'm an even more of a crazy, raging bitch.

But as he walks towards the bed, calling for me he falls hard, face first on the floor which makes me break into a gasp.

"Jesus fuck!" I pull myself up to sit up and look down at Thomas. He looked unconscious, which made me worry. I got on my feet, rushing towards him. "Tom?!"

Poor thing, I didn't know he was that drunk until I pulled him up to his feet and dragged him to bed. He did get a nose bleed from that fall, which he got all upset about because of his suit.

"Claudia," Thomas groans, "I'm drunk, Claud."

"I know." I focus on clogging up the nostril that seems to be an open faucet of blood. "Why'd you get drunk?"

God, this all sounds so weird. Thomas drunk. Thomas Shelby. Drunk.

Might the world come to a hault too? Perhaps it'll rain blue tomorrow? Or maybe even Jesus himself will come down wearing a tutu. I don't know.

"Well." He begins before I tilt his chin up. He winces, shutting his eyes. "Fuckin' hell."

"Sorry." I chirp, wincing right after him.

He puts his hands on my hips, allowing myself to stand bettween his legs, and then he pulls me down, so that I'm sitting on his perfectly angled leg. "What was I saying?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, his crystal clear blue eyes are now a hazy deep blue.

I smile, unable to help myself at his boyish tone of voice. "You were answering my question." I reply, pushing the tissue into his nostril. "About why you got drunk." I lean back, admiring my work.

"Oh righttttt. Well, I got drunk because Arthur's having another baby."

"Oh that's wonderful!"

"And I was just thinking about havin' a baby for myself. I mean- ourselves." He questions himself. "For uzzzz, I mean Claudia. You me and a baby. Can you fuckin' imagine? A little rugrat rolling around here?" He laughs, "I'd be a good dad, I reckon."

I pout, knowing that this'll only end up going terribly. Thomas Shelby has only expressed his fears about having another child, especially after the way Charlie and Ruby seem to dispise their father after many efforts of Thomas trying.

This'll pass, I tell myself.

Grabbing him by the shoulders, I smooth out the material of his ruffled shirt.

"Another baby for Linda and Arthur." I smile up at Thomas. "That's lovely."

"It is." He nods a lot of times before sighing. Thomas falls on the bed, "Fuck. Why do people get drunk?"

"For loads of reasons." Laughing at his reaction, I unbutton his shirt slowly. "You don't like it though do you?"

I've been with this man for ages and holy shit. I've never seen him so wasted. Never ever. Ever.

"Noooooooooooo!" He shakes his head.

I look at him and sigh, "No."

That's because you like control my love and being drunk means you lose all control.

"How does Arthur get piss drunk at least once a week?"

I twist my face, "I reckon it's because he's trying to escape the madness in his head."

"Hm. That's not a bad assumption." He grabs my hips, tucking his hand under the shirt I wear that belongs to him. "How about my dad, you reckon."

"I didn't know how him. But people get drunk to be happy and celebrate-"

"Those were my intentions, love."

"I know."

"You don't get drunk though, even to celebrate."

"No way." I hate drinking. Hate. It.

"Do you dislike me right now? Like this?"

"No way." I take off his shirt slowly getting his arms out of it. "It's ok to get drunk sometimes, Tommy."

"I hate it." He tells me, looking me right in the eyes. He grabs my arm and forces me down to him. "I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you, Claud."

"Indeed." I run my hands down his chest, "This is correct, Mr. Shelby. But you're drunk, and I'm completely sober. So I'll be the one taking care of you."

"And you can't have sex with me."

I look up at him and raise an eyebrow.

"I didn't know I'd get this turned on by you. Jesus, even the sight of you makes my cock-"

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I laugh before feeling him move me to climb on top of him. "Thomas." I groan. "When you wake up in the morning, I'll tell you all about this and you'll be so disturbed of how much you care about me."

"I care about you, Claudia Jackson."

"Mmmm."

"Lets get married."

"I think you need to be sober for that, love."

"You think?" He laughs, "I just love you. I don't know what I'd do without you," again, Thomas laughs. "I really don't know."

"I love you."

He hums, shutting his eyes and grinning. "Say it again."

"I..." You crawl on top of him, kissing his cheeks, nose, "Love...." your lips press over his eyelids, forehead, making its way back to your lips. "You."