• TOMMY SHELBY IMAGINES •

my jealous mess

"What are you on about?" You voice comes out in a harsh tone, one that even hurts you. "Ay?" You follow him into the hallway, a little tiny-winy bit drunk from the Christmas party at your workplace. "You haven't said a bloody word to me all evening. Why are you being this way?"

This is the same workplace Christmas party in which Thomas does not approve of the male coworkers you call your colleagues.

"You dance way too-" He raises his arms, searching for a word. "Too provocative, its like you're trying to make me mad." He hisses before turning around, he's going straight for the whiskey in the kitchen, this you know.

You trail in close behind, stumbling over your heels, "Oh for Christ sake!" You shout, taking them off in anger. "I asked you to dance first, did I not?"

"Which I declined, yes." He calms down for a second. "You're right."

You two end up in the kitchen. he opens a cabinet, grabbing a glass before moving to the other. You watch him hastily unbutton a few of his shirt, revealing a little peek of his golden chest. And although you're livid, he looks pretty damn sexy.

"Exactly!" You voice echos throughout your home, you throw your hands in the air. "So, I danced with someone else because you didn't want to!"

"He couldn't get his hands off of you." Thomas annoys you before opening up the kitchen cabinet revealing the bottle of unopened whiskey. "And you looked like you fucking enjoyed it, hey, were you two having a laugh? Watching me watch you?"

"Thomas," You look him straight in the eyes, using the chair to balance you out because holy fuck, are you more than a tiny-winy bit tipsy. "It was a slow dance, his hands were on my hips! Is that so bad?!"

"Yes!"

"Wow," You laugh, moving to sit down on the chair. You hands find their way into your hair, combing through the silky soft curls before pouting. "You're actually a prick, you know that?"

He raises the glass, a smirk on his face. "To being in love with a prick, hey dear?"

You raise your middle finger, unable to control the smirk that plays on your lips. A song from the night begins to play in your head, making you sway back and forth, you want to dance again. But when you look at your 'prince charming' you recoil. I do not want to dance with you sir, despite your irresistible beauty. 

"What was his name anyway?" Thomas asks finishing his drink in a hurry.

"Whose?" You ask, your eyes narrowing.

"The lad you were dancing with." He walks towards you before sitting at the dining table with you. He drags the bottle and glass with him, making you a little anxious. "The blonde with the blue eyes that wouldn't leave your pretty face?"

He leans in once he's seated beside you and gently moves his thumb over your bottom lip. "There were a thousand men looking at you that night, fooling; but they were all too scared to ask you to dance, except for him." His voice was tender.

As you stare into Tommy's eyes, you see a boyish, jealous man looking back at you. You two had a few glasses of champagne, and you knew he drank throughout the day. In the drunken haze you're in, you see Thomas look at you in the same cloudy eyes. Holy fuck, you think, I've never really seen him drunk.

You break into giggles, right before his thumb strokes your bottom lip.

"His name, y/n." Thomas presses, searching your eyes.

"His name," You lean back, pulling yourself from him. "His name is James." You truthfully respond, unsure of where that information will lead your dear work colleague.

He nods. "You wouldn't mind if some of the boys pay him a visit, would you?" He tilts his head, waiting for your response.

"I would mind," You reveal.

Thomas turns his head away from you, going silent. Because you knew thats not what your master wants to hear.

Boo-fucking-hoo.

"But if you want him dead," You lean in, putting your hand on the table, watching as he snaps his neck to bore into your eyes again. "...then murder him yourself, you jealous arse!" You hiss just before getting up and walking away.

You storm off, hearing him get up. The chair screeches against the wooden floor, causing you to panic.

You don't make it very far before he grabs your arm harshly and spins you around. You react by bringing your other hand up and slapping him hard, before stepping back in a gasp.

Great job.

"Tommy, I-" You whisper once he looks at you with complete shock.

He looks so innocent as he cups his cheek, and that serious face of his disappears as he smirks. It's your body that he grabs, lifting you off of your feet as his fingers tickle your body.

You cry out in laughs, begging for him to stop. And as he carries you to the couch do you melt against it before feeling him climb on top of you.

You flush, his blue eyes studying yours. You drag your fingers over his cheek, your face burns. You've never, ever slapped him. Sure - you've wanted to, but this is the first time you've ever slapped him.

"Forgive me?" You bite down on your bottom lip.

"No," he says moving to take your hand. He kisses your palm, signing. "Will you forgive me?I just, don't want you to dance with someone who isn't me," He says with his whole heart, only making you blush more.

Hearing him ask for forgiveness is new to you. And you can't help but reach for him and smother him with you lips.

"I forgive you." You tell him. Your heart flutters as he hugs you. "My jealous mess."