“We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.”
“Tommy,” you whined, dragging out his nickname – he hated being called that, but he swore he’d accept any name that fell from your pretty lips. Tom had a surprise party for you at Zendaya’s home. You had just turned twenty-one and caught up to all your other friends, so they decided they wanted to ring it in with you. Tom wanted a lowkey night, just you and him. But, he figured he’d have you tomorrow all to himself – and he’d be extra happy to know that he’d have all your drunken stories to remind you of. Including and especially this one.
“Yes, darling?” One of his arms hooked around your waist to support you from falling. You had discarded your heels in Zendaya’s room a few hours ago, almost immediately upon your arrival, actually. You wrapped your arms around Tom’s neck, part of you wanting him closer, and the other part not wanting to tip over.
“I love you, Tommy,” you pecked him on the lips. You reeked of alcohol and tasted bitter, but Tom would kiss you even if you hadn’t showered in three days.
“You know why?” Tom pretended to think.
“Because, you like my hair?” He smiled as you giggled uncontrollably. You shook your head, even though your fingers found themselves running wilding through his hair.
“I do love your hair – but, that’s not why I love you, silly!”
“Hm,” Tom pouted, “alright, I give up.” He pecked you this time, “Why do you love me, darling?”
You smiled before looking around you both, no one was paying any attention to you both, but you beckoned him closer to whisper to him anyway. “I love you because, you let me call you Tommy – I know you hate it, but I know you love it when I say it. So, that means you love me.” Tom smiled widely, pulling away to give you a proper kiss.
“You’re not wrong, my love.”
“Goodnight, Z! Thanks for the party!” Tom guided you to the car, trying to fight against you as you kept pulling away from him to shout over both of your shoulder’s. “Thanks for getting me drunk!” You heard Zendaya laugh as Tom groaned.
“Yeah, thanks, Zendaya!” Tom shouted back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Drive safe!” You both waved at Zendaya. Tom successfully got you in the car, and ran to his side and buckled you in before you could open your door again. Once Tom parked the car in your driveway, he jogged to your side. He picked you up so you wouldn’t have to walk up the stairs, placing you down only to fish your keys out of your purse to unlock the door.
“Tom,” you mumbled, once you were in the house.
“Yes?” Tom made sure your door was locked and then turned to face you.
“Let’s play a game.”
“A game?” He looked at his watch, it was nearing two in the morning. “Isn’t it too late, babe?” You were already going up the stairs before he could ask you his question. He sighed softly and quickly followed you up. He walked into your room to see you shuffling through your drawers. “What are you looking for?” You squealed in delight, pulling out a deck of cards.
“We’re going to play – drumroll, please,” you sloppily drummed your hands on your thighs. “Strip poker!” Tom suppressed his laugh as you confidently held up a deck of UNO Cards.
“Darling, how about we play in the morning?” He subtly snuck his hand behind him and switched the light off, gasping dramatically. “It’s too dark to play now.” He chuckled softly as you gasped loudly, too. You had fallen for it, and he knew he succeeded as you dropped the deck onto the floor and jumped onto your bed.
“Hurry, Tommy! It’s dark. I don’t like the dark!” Tom kicked his shoes off and joined you on the bed, taking his jeans off and then handing his shirt to you. He helped you undress, and then dress.
“Ugh, Tom,” you called out blindly, your eyes still shut. You opened them when you received no response and saw a glass of orange juice and two aspirin next to you. You swallowed them and headed downstairs to see Tom at the table. “Tom?”
Tom turned toward you, a smirk on his face. You made your way to the table, sitting across form him. You saw a deck of cards in his hand. “Ready to play?”
“Play?” You asked confused. “Play what?”
Tom’s smirk grew. “Strip poker.” Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as your memories form last night flooded.
“Tommy,” you groaned, shoving your face into your hands. You smiled as you heard Tom’s laugh.
“What’s wrong, baby? Afraid you’re going to lose?”
“Tom,” you warned, shooting him a playful glare, “we’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.” You laughed along with Tom and entangled your fingers with Tom’s outstretched one’s on the table.
You looked up from pouring a beer for someone when you heard the doors to the Garrison open. Not many people were in today. It was hardly afternoon so the only people around were the drunks. Tommy walked in with Arthur and John, heading for the private room. Arthur had told you a few days ago that they were planning an expansion and would be holding interviews for men to join the Blinders in the coming days.
“We’re taking London.” Had been Arthur’s explanation when he’d told you about it. You had been balancing the books for the Garrison and Arthur had been gossiping about the business with you while you worked.
“Good luck with that.” You were unenthused by the information. You had been putting off talking to Tommy for the past few weeks and with the news of London it seemed like finding a good time to talk would be pointless.
This is inspired by a story I posted about one of my students. Happy Early Valentine’s Day! Enjoy ;)
Oliver Queen is Tommy’s best friend. He loves him. Dearly. They are basically family. But if Oliver Queen doesn’t stop telling him how many days there are until Valentine’s Day, Tommy is going to break into his father’s safe, steal his gun, and shoot him in the face. Better yet, he’s going to push him off of a cliff. Or maybe in front of a moving train. He doesn’t know exactly how he will do it, but by god, Tommy is going to murder him.
They are in 5th grade. Who cares about Valentine’s Day? It’s not like it’s a cool holiday like Martin Luther King Day where they get the day off. They still have to go to school, don’t they? All Valentine’s Day is, is a day where they all have to pretend to like everyone in their class and buy candy and cards for people that he can’t stand.
Request: a request for working with the shelby’s and you are australian and arthur loves your accent?
Request:A quick arthur request for being in a relationship with arthur and one night you are working late on business with tommy and he drinks too much and tries to come onto you but you scratch or slap him or something? And in the morning arthur finds out and loses his shit on tommy? Thanks bb I absolutely love arthur and alfie too
Drunk - Arthur Shelby
There was absolutely no doubt that Arthur had pulled for you to be hired because of your accent. You had immigrated from Australia to England a year prior and had finally made a home for yourself in Small Heath. It was there that you answered an ad for a secretarial position within a “new and promising company” called Shelby Brothers Limited. Tommy was wary of hiring a foreigner but Arthur, who was quite fond of your accent had convinced his brother it was the right decision.
The hangover you was feeling was nothing compared to the embarrassment. After a long night of drinking, you believed it would be a good idea to try to kiss your best friend, Finn. He pushed you away, causing you to trip and fall in Tommy who ended up carrying you home. The sudden boost of confidence that you suddenly had when you was drunk always ended in disaster. It was either dancing on the tables or trying to kiss any guy in you could. The aftermath always ended up with you feeling like an idiot.
FIVE TIMES OLIVER CALLED FELICITY ON BOYS NIGHT (Or Stages of Their Relationship Through Drunk Talk)
Inspired by last night’s Colin and Stephen goodness. I have no idea where this went. Tommy Merlyn is alive and well (and in my head he lives in Bali and that’s who Oliver and Felicity visit on the show).
One shot. Sort of AU. Canon divergence at least. Hope you enjoy it! :)
It was her phone ringing at an ungodly hour that woke her up. Grumbling, she reached out to the bedside table and touched the phone. Half-asleep, Felicity picked up the call without opening her eyes to see who it was and placed it on top of her ear. The moment she did…
Someone slurred, making her open her eyes to check the caller id. Unknown.
“Um. Who’s this?” she asked, stifling a yawn, making a mental list of people she knew, men in particular, who could be drunk at this hour and calling her. The number was unsurprisingly zero.
“This is me,” the heavy male voice rasped out, as if she was supposed to miraculously know exactly who he was, before he burst into chuckles as if he’d cracked the joke of the century. Felicity sat up in her bed, frowning.
“Who are you?” she asked again, sleep fading from her mind.
“Who do you want me to be?” the male voice asked flirtatiously, before someone else guffawed loudly from behind him.
Rolling her eyes, Felicity cut the call and snuggled back into bed.
It rang again. Same number. She gingerly picked up.
“I’m hurrrt,” the guy said, slurring his words. “Why did you cut my call?”
“I think you have the wrong number, mister,” she told him firmly.
There was silence for a long minute, before the guy whispered quietly. “But I like your voice.”
Felicity blinked in surprise at the sincerity in the tone, before shaking it off. “Um. Thanks, I guess. But I have to…”
“Your voice is like red wine,” the guy interrupted. “It’s making me heady.”
“I like red wine,” she said before she could stop it.
“Me too. I have my own nightclub. Verdant,” he informed her, pride evident in his tone. Felicity sat mute, stunned. Verdant? No way. There was no way…
Oliver fucking Queen had drunk dialed her by mistake. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to talk, but he interrupted, again, his voice a whisper.
“My best friend just passed out,” he babbled without pause. “We are at our party. It’s great. We sang. A lot. And danced too. And I think I’m a little drunk. Do you think I’m drunk? I’m a little sleepy too. I should sleep before I find some girl. Tommy and I have vowed to stay away from girls for a week. It’s compcilated…no…compli-naked… no, that’s not right. Why do I always get to naked? Ah. Do you under…stand?”
Felicity covered her mouth with her hand to stop the giggles from bursting out. His jumbled words and that concentrated tone as he tried to get them out were surprisingly cute. Drunk Oliver Queen sure was entertaining.
“Yes,” she replied, laughing.
She heard a soft sigh on the line. “I like your laugh. I like your voice too. Have I told you that? Talk to me.”
Felicity raised her eyebrows.
Well, he’d said please. And she was enjoying this, whatever this was. Decision made, she settled back in her pillows, and started talking. It was a strange, long night.