Blue-Eyed Devil | T. Shelby Imagines

➥ Drunken Comfort

Word Count: ~ 1440
Warnings: Cursing, drinking, self-loathing, Tom being sad!boy
SUMMARY: Instead of finding his weekly Peaky meeting, he finds you, Y/N, sitting on the floor of the Garrison drinking far too much whiskey for his liking while drunkenly mumbling about someone fucking you over. So, he takes it upon himself to comfort you.

⎯⎯

Thomas Shelby would be lying if he wasn't surprised shitless to see you of all people in the Garrison, alone, at nine in the morning. You sat on the floor, back up against a pillar and hand around the neck of a large bottle of whiskey.

He immediately knew you were drunk off your ass... and sad, or angry. Tom couldn't really tell between the sobbing and sour mumblings. He could only catch a few words here and there but it seemed to him that you got broken up with. Again.

"Fucking prick, stupid arsehole..." You spat out before looking up upon hearing the door closed. "Oh, hello." Your words were garbled beyond belief as you wiped your eyes and sniffled loudly. Even if you needed someone to comfort you, the thought of Tom seeing you like this made you want to tuck tail and run.

You wanted to run just like that dickhead Travis. He wasn't the best man, but he was a man. And being with him made your mother get off your ass about being single and nearing the age of thirty. Boasting about getting married to your father at the ripe age of seventeen.

Thomas turned and locked the door, knowing how you felt about prying eyes. "What's happened this time?" His voice held a bit of a teasing tone and it made you clench your jaw in irritation.

The bottle in your hands was nearly empty so you finished it off and pushed yourself off the ground slowly. In doing so, you tripped forward and tried to grab onto a bar stool, but that did nothing to stop your descent toward the hardwood floor. You flinched in anticipation of busting your head open, but Tom managed to catch you.

You held onto his forearms tightly, "I didn't need your help." In your head, you thanked him for not letting you embarrass yourself any further. But you couldn't let him know how shitty you felt.

Tom scoffed loudly as he helped you regain your balance, "Looked like it, how much have you had to drink any way?" The concern made you scowl.

"Not bloody enough to deal with the likes of you." This was true, being around Tom oddly drained you emotionally. Perhaps it was his lack of emotions or just how handsome he looked while pretending to have no feelings. You tried to make your way to the bar but stumbled again, which prompted Thomas to grab your arm and spin you toward him.

"Oi, you've had enough, Y/N."

It was your turn to scoff at him, finding it to be quite funny that Thomas fucking Shelby was trying to police your intake of alcohol. "That's rich coming from the man who drinks whiskey like he breathes air. Now, let go of me before I scream." Tom surprised you when he did indeed let go of you. What surprised you more was that you immediately fell to the floor with a clatter.

Your knees hurt but you refused to give Tom the satisfaction of knowing you needed his help. "Fuck you." The words were like cold tea being thrown in Tom's face and he rolled his eyes.

"Admit it. You're a mess."

"Who are you? Sherlock fucking Holmes? Help me up, Shelby." Thomas agreed immediately by hoisting you up and into his arms. "What are you doing?" You slurred and he just shook his head as he carried you to one of the booths. Nobody was in the pub beside you two, which confused Tom.

He sat you down in the booth lightly, making sure not to hit your head. Tom walked back to the bar to get some water as you laid your head on the cool wood of the table. The pounding in your head reminding you why you were here in the first place. "It only took ten shillings to get Harry to let me in... funny innit?"

"Not really, here, drink." You took the cup and sipped on it slowly, testing it. When the warm water met your tongue, you spat it out onto the seat, shaking your head. "I'm going to pretend you didn't do that and ask you again, what's happened?" Tom held a glass of whiskey in his hand as he leaned back in the booth across from you.

You decided to make him a wager, "Give me your drink and I'll spill the beans." Tom rolled his eyes and took one drink out of the glass before handing it to you.

"Alright, I've given up my precious drink, so come on," His voice grew lower and his eyes found yours from across the table. Tom's hand was still on the glass, barely touching your own. "Tell me what's gone wrong?" He gave you a small smile and you felt your sobriety returning.

Knowing you wouldn't be able to handle the situation soberly, you downed what was left in the shot glass and exhaled loudly. Tommy's hand rested on the table casually. As if he were silently offering for you to hold it. You bit your lip nervously, "Travis fucking cheated on me." Anger flashed in his eyes for only a jiffy.

Then it was gone and the concern was back, a tear escaped your puffy eyes and you wiped it away quickly. "Said I uh, wasn't enough for im'." Your leg bounced up and down beneath the table and it caused it to shake lightly, Tom noticed it and you felt his foot tap your ankle, asking you to stop.

A nod later, you managed to stop the shaking, "Then he... he fucking broke me mums old vase and said he was leaving me for the harlot he slept with. All I remember is him saying I wasn't enough. That he'd rather sleep with someone who definitely has the clap... then with me..."

The shaking was back, you couldn't control the self-pity and rage as you clench your fists tightly. Wishing for Travis Jones to fucking disappear. Before you knew it, your entire body shook as you openly cried in front of Tom.

If he was being honest, he had no idea what to do in this situation. Although this wasn't the first time he'd found you getting drunk due to the end of a relationship, this was the most wrecked he'd ever seen you. Tom didn't say anything as he moved around the booth and pulled you into his chest, just rubbing your back silently.

You didn't say anything in return, just allowed him to calm you down as you sobbed into his white shirt. Your grip on the lapels of his grey jacket was strong while you used him as your gravity. The sobs racking through your body were loud and ugly, you could hardly breathe right because of it but Tom didn't complain once.

His body warmth was a welcome feeling because you were freezing from sitting on the floor for so long. Thomas eventually pulled you onto his lap, knowing the position would be less awkward for the both of you. He cradled you like a baby as you cried and cried. Allowing you to just let it all out.

⎯⎯

After what felt like forever you sobs began to subside into just silent tears, you wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands before a white handkerchief appeared. You took it and mumbled a quiet thank you before blowing your nose rather loudly. "Thank you." Tommy only nodded.

"It's not good to be alone when you're in pain."

You shook your head, "Says the man who pushes everyone away."

"I do that to spare them." He sounded rather melancholy. Tom wouldn't lie, admitting that to someone made the weight on his shoulders feel a bit lighter. Tom's eyes were piercing at that angle, washing over your puffy face with worry. "Do you feel better?"

"I think so... but seriously, thank you. You're the only one who seems to care when I'm in the dumps and it means a lot to me. Even if I'm an arsehole every time..." Your confession made a slight chuckle escape Tom's lips and it was music to your ears.

He shrugs, "What else am I supposed to do? Let you cry on your own?" You didn't answer, "I understand what it's like to be hurt and whenever I was... I was left to shoulder the pain on my own. Even if I'm shit at feelings... it always helps to have another person there to comfort you." You hugged Tom tightly, feeling a sense of courage overtake you for a moment. He surprised you when he returned the hug just as fiercely.