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imaginesbymk · 4 years

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PINK + WHITE.

— CHAPTER FOUR ; COSA NOSTRA.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags: s4 spoilers, alcohol, implied nsfw

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

INKBERROW HOTEL

STRATFORD-UPON-AVON

LUCA heavily sighed and muttered something Italian under his breath. His first meeting with Alfie Solomons was gonna happen in a couple hours. To his understanding from anyone he's gone to, he was told how unpredictable and clever Alfie was. He was a bullet, and Luca rubbed the bridge of his nose just thinking about the fact that he has to brace for a headache.

He sat silently. Just like Tommy, all his research and plans mapped out were scattered across his desk. Staring at the unlit fireplace in the sitting room, he hears both a knock and a small English voice grab his attention from the other side of giant, heavy front door. Luca gets up to answer it, to find the maid that served him tea and biscuits smile sweetly at him.

"You have guests."

They walk in and the maid leaves. The henchman had their fair share of matching overcoats and hats since they began working for the Changretta family. Luca's cousin Matteo, being one of them, was one of the first to already push Luca's buttons when he stood in front of the desk.

"I will mop the floor with your face if you don't fix that frown," Luca held up a warning finger, speaking to him like a parent disciplining their child.

"Noi perso Frederico," Matteo spoke. The other henchman next to him was still part of them, but after being shot by Tommy Shelby during the shootout the other day, his spirit crushed.

"You think I'm not upset about that?" Luca pulled out the match from the tray and placed it in his mouth. "They've now killed five of our men, Matteo. Five."

Matteo looked down and Luca sighs. "Aw, come on. You even complained about Spotted Dick. It's pudding, it ain't so bad. You've hated everything here that moves. You carry the same attitude from four years back. We had some decent pleasure in Britain. You know, the wedding? Il vino di cugino nostra? The art gallery. . ." Luca slowly played with the match gripped by his teeth. "I met a woman there."

And what more than Luca not recalling her, too?

Luca got back up and walked him and his men over to the sitting area. He sat on the sofa while Matteo and the other man sat opposite him on the chairs.

"Will you be seeing her again?" he asks.

Luca knew exactly who he was referring to, and shook his head, fairly certain there wasn't a chance something like that would happen. "Penarth is miles away from where we are, Matteo."

"Vai a vederla," the other henchman suggests. "You know, mentre siamo qui?"

"And tell her what?" Luca says. "'Hello old lover, sorry for just walking out on you like that, but I'm here now! Let's wolf down some gin and fuck on my desk?'"

They both shrugged and looked down, not really knowing what else to say to continue on with that subject.

Luca leaned back in the sofa. "We're here for business, for loose ends that need a tight knot on. This isn't a field trip, an excursion for that matter."

However, Luca wished it wasn't for anything like that. He dreaded the day more family of his that were dear to his heart, people he loved and respected deeply, would slip right out of his hands. After hearing about his brother Angel it was enough to mourn over. But hearing his mother break down in front of him revealing his father's assassination afterwards, nearly shut him down.

Blood before all.

"She's from the past. It don't matter no more." 1919-1920

SOMEWHERE in Birmingham, Luca came from New York to be best man at his cousin's wedding. England wasn't his ideal place to stay, though, as he loved the New York air, there were more buildings with shining lights and taxis, and people being as upbeat and chaotic well suited his preference. But he showed honor and love for his cousin, and he wouldn't say no.

He came before meeting Teresa, of course. And as promised, he took her out to see a show, as he mentioned how he was a lover of theater. Their first date went smoothly as he thought, and kept stealing glances from her that night.

They went on their second date to one of the finest restaurants in Birmingham. He requested a bottle of champagne and two gourmet dishes at their reserved table. He was annoyed but not surprised there were no Italian cuisines known in that area, but it was better than not treating her to the fancy, luxurious lifestyle he was born into.

When Teresa was a Peaky Blinder, it was way before the Shelbys expanded into more fine houses to relax in. They lived in Small Heath, of course, and their neighborhood was spread with filth. But it was home.

Teresa therefore never got to experience the wealth and glory once Tommy established the Shelby Company Limited, even before the high ranking members could save so much to spoil themselves too. Teresa was long gone before that, but she built her own empire, and it all started with art, art that she now thought of selling and upgrading, according to Luca's "constructive criticism."

That was when Luca had to ask, now that he was staying in Birmingham for awhile now. "My cousin is getting married on Saturday. I'm gonna be his best man."

"That's amazing, Luca. Tell him and his bride my congrats," she smiles brightly.

"You can be there to tell them that, y'know?"

She took a sip of her champagne. "Mm?"

Luca leaned forward. "I want you to be my plus one at my cousin's wedding."

Teresa nearly choked on her drink. "A-are you sure?"

"I'm never unsure, Teresa. But you seem to be."

"It's just . . . we still don't know each other that well for me to meet your family."

"And? People bring dates all the time, even if they've known each other for half a day. I know you warned me that I would grow bored of you, but here we are on our second date. We have the best table arranged for us, champagne, filet mignon," Luca smirked a bit. "I haven't even kissed you yet."

She chuckles. "You're right. I just hope your family likes me." She took that as a joke, but Luca already switched to being dead serious.

"Well, I don't wanna scare you, but you're gonna have to make yourself likeable for my family. They're what you call . . ." he trails off, waving his hand.

"Judgmental?" Teresa asks.

"They're gonna ask about you like it's an interview. They're gonna do research, find out what you do, what you like, whether or not you've done anything bad."

Shit. Her throat hit a lump. Now what would The Changrettas' reaction be if they found out Teresa was a Peaky Blinder? Forbid Luca at his big age from seeing her again? Condemn her? Blackmail her into hiding? But fuck it, she thought. Teresa really liked Luca so far, and she wasn't gonna let her past ruin her future. "We shouldn't have a problem with that, then."

When Luca's chauffeur pulled up at Teresa's home, he looked around the neighborhood. The night of their first date, Luca planted a kiss on Teresa's cheek before letting her go into the house. Her business wasn't enough for her to own a manor, so Teresa was living in a townhouse in a neighborhood with drunks and escorts that come and go. It didn't differ much from his home, yet he winced at the sight of it.

She came out the door wearing a sparkly dress that lowered down to her knees, height a bit taller from the heels she picked out, and her hair was in the curls most women were styling theirs as. Through the filth of their surroundings, Luca saw an angel.

Teresa joined the applause after the bride and groom shared their kiss. All the families and friends cheered, some chanting Italian at them and she smiled at Luca who proudly stood at the altar with the groomsmen and bridesmaids. It wasn't until the time to take a family photo, and Teresa stood on the side and watched them.

"Do you know the bride?" an old man approached Teresa.

"I'm here with the best man."

"You know my son?" Her heart rate increases a bit. It was Luca's father, Vicente.

She nods. "Yes. I—"

"Papa," the family was done taking their photo and Luca hopped off the steps to introduce her. "It was probably better to introduce you to everyone before I could run off and do wedding stuff. Padre, questa è Teresa Griffith. Lavora come art director, a Penarth."

Vicente Changretta kisses her on both cheeks. "Then you must meet my wife, Audrey."

Luca's mother stared at Teresa while she sat next to where Luca was supposed to be sitting at the wedding dinner. In fact, some of the guests were staring at her, too, not recognizing her as they were observing her looks. Not that it was a bad thing, it was just intriguing. She was the only non Italian-American at the wedding, and Luca only introduced her to his parents.

Teresa smiled and nodded politely when she made eye contact with anyone as she tried sipping her drink to avoid any embarrassment. She breathes in relief when Luca sat back down. "That speech you made. It was beautiful, Luca."

"Thank you," he mutters, taking his wine glass. "Even though it was all in Italian."

She chuckles, still feeling the looks some of the guests shot at her. She quietly spoke to Luca while avoiding eye contact. "People are staring at me. Is it my dress? Do I have bad taste?"

"Sei bellisima," Luca compliments. "They're just curious about you, that's all. Why, do you feel intimidated?"

"Not at all."

"Well," Luca's raspy voice lowered but loud enough for Teresa to hear him say, "you should be."

Teresa stared at him, feeling tensed. "Why is that?"

He sipped his wine."Because we're dangerous people."

Teresa was no stranger to words like that, she wasn't new to running into people who consider themselves "dangerous". The Peaky Blinders were in fact dangerous people who did dangerous deeds. But this was Luca, and that would mean—

"Blood before all." Luca stood up before Teresa could question him and he raised a toast in Italian, everyone following.

Once they finished their meal there was time left for dancing and drinking. Teresa once again kept quiet, trying to stick with Luca the entire time and avoid losing him to a crowd or a relative speaking to him. There really was nothing else she could do besides drink silently and listen to Luca speak in his native tongue.

That was when Mrs. Changretta walked up to them. "Slow down on the wine, amore mio."

Luca obeyed. "Yes, Mamma."

"And Teresa, you've been glued to my son all night," Audrey says. "I hope everything is all right with you. Have you tried the risotto?"

"Oh yes, it was delicious," Teresa smiles, seeing Luca walk off with Matteo. She was left alone to talk to his mother.

"That's good. It's an Italian recipe. Very popular. Luca tells me that you own a gallery?"

"I work as the art director in the Penarth Art Gallery."

Audrey nodded. "You were a good student to own a business?"

"I got good grades here and there."

"That's lovely. I worked as a teacher, taught two little boys how to read. Now they're all grown up and they wear caps and carry guns around. I am sure their names would sound familiar to you, Teresa? John and Arthur Shelby."

And just like that, Teresa's skin turned cold. Of course, someone like Luca's own mother would be one step ahead to dig deep into Teresa's past and bring up the two reckless men that did the most of violence and crime. She hasn't seen or spoke to either of them ever since she resigned, and hearing someone mention a Shelby made her skin crawl.

This was exactly what Luca had warned her about. Be likeable.

"I worked with them. But that was way before I moved back to Wales. Mrs. Changretta, I hold no ill-intent on your son. I respect him. I would never do anything to harm him."

"My husband told me the Peaky Blinders were the ones who killed Billy Kimber."

"That was before I resigned. I wasn't there to see it happen. Who I once was is now in the past. I grew out of that life. Holding a gun would feel so new to me."

Was that enough? Was that an okay response? Audrey stared at her. "I don't blame you for leaving the Peaky Blinders, Teresa. But we do happen to be just like them, you know? So think about how you are spending your leisure with my son."

Teresa furrowed a brow. "In what way?"

Mrs. Changretta took a step closer and smiled at her. "We're a tight family. In New York we deal with what you once dealt it, and we play with the big kids." She squeezes her hand and walks off.

Cosa Nostra.

Of course. Teresa felt like slapping her forehead for not having the slightest idea sooner. She felt completely stupid for not seeing the signs; the way Luca behaved when they first met, the way they dressed, their mannerisms, everything. It gave off the whole idea clear as day. It was no wonder his family didn't welcome her so much.

She stood stiff in her spot, no sign of Luca anywhere to come back to speak to her again. But did that even matter anymore? If Mrs. Changretta knew already, that meant Vicente knew, too. Even Luca. She had to assume Luca would be a leader, then. She squeezed her eyes shut just imagining him as part of the New York mafia, holding a Thompson gun, one day going against the Peaky Blinders . . .

Teresa felt like she was set up for this to humiliate her. Without even being armed, walking out without saying anything could cause suspicion. Teresa took a seat at the bar, and stared at her glass.

Luca came back minutes after, they both knew exactly what was on each other's minds. "How could you have not known I'm part of a Sicilian mob based in New York?"

Teresa shrugged.

"Couldn't you tell when we first met? Not even Matteo or Frederico gave you the hint?"

"I thought you were planning on robbing my art gallery like a bunch of amateurs."

"Of course, you were a Peaky Blinder. Heard those clowns killed Billy fuckin' Kimber," Luca took a seat next to her.

She nodded. "Yep. That's them, that was before I resigned. I couldn't take it anymore, but the people they go neck to neck with would contact me nonstop, my name comes out of their mouths, they threatened to kill me, so I left for Penarth.".

"So, you are intimidated by us," Luca says.

"I'm not judging you for being a mafioso, but I don't feel like I've been approved by your family."

"I let my family voice their opinions, but they like you so far. Leaving would ruin that." Luca and Teresa both get up. "My mother likes you. That's a rewarding milestone."

"Your family would find it hard to trust me, and I know they would do something about it."

Luca shook his head while drinking the last of what was in his glass. "I mean I did warn you, we are dangerous people."

Shrugging, Teresa put her hand to stroke his cheek. "Yet I'm still here."

As she should.

"You . . . are definitely not boring, Miss Griffith," he grinned down at her. "You ever held a Thompson gun before?"

"No, but I would love to one day. We can protect each other."

"I thought you couldn't handle the crime life anymore? You can trust me. Nothing won't happen to me." He started pulling her closer to him so that his arm was wrapped around her back.

She shakes her head. "You have signore tuo to protect you. And your Tommy gun."

"E Signore mio mi ha mandato angelo custode mio."

"What does that mean?"

Luca let his free hand lift her chin. "God sent me my guardian angel."

As the band's music grew loud on stage, he was able to lean down and let the alcohol push him forward for the kiss. And he allowed it. Teresa took in the moment when the kiss deepened. It was divine and satisfying, like her favourite painter blending colours on a dry canvas.

•••

From all the noise they both made, they were sure the people staying next door could hear them loud and clear, grimacing at the sound of the bed banging against the wall of the room, but it didn't matter anymore.

Letting out a heavy breath, Teresa relaxed her body when Luca came to rest beside her when they were done. Back in America, Luca had his fair share with women and always charmed his way into getting them to spend time with him and his men. It always included going to speakeasies to drink and party at night, enjoying the city lights in New York.

But when it was Teresa in bed with him in uptown England, she felt free even though she was on her back with Luca leaning over her. Despite how he was so experienced with intimacy, everything felt so new, and it felt right when he looked into her eyes.

The wedding night felt euphoric, and it wasn't even them who got married.

Luca and his men head out the door, ready to meet up with Alfie Solomons in his distillery. He was conflicted. Did he miss her? Did he want to miss her? He tosses the match from his mouth into the disposable bin on the way out.

Does he have any idea that she was already aware he was back?

#please reblog!!!#likes + comments greatly appreciated!!!#pink+white #luca changretta #tommy shelby #luca changretta fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfic

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mrschangrettawrites · 5 years

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Acquisitions

Summary: Every person has their purpose, and yours has just come up.

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 1692

Notes: FINALLY AN UPDATE AFTER SIX MONTHS FDKNGKDOFNGDKFNGOD god im so sorry it has taken this long to update but i've gotten a job since starting this fic and it's consumed much of my time, then the holidays were upon us and, well, yall know how it goes. but i got hit with inspo during my shift today so here it is! the long awaited fourth chapter! hopefully future updates wont be as delayed but who knows lmao. anyways thanks for waiting! minor tw for violence. Spoilers for season four, but it is v canon divergent so not really very many, reader is a WOC. I highly highly highly recommend installing the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome store if you can. To add your name and last name simply install the extension, then click ‘Need to replace something other than Y/N?’ and in the value bar put Name and put your name in the Replace With bar, then click change! And be sure to tick Store this replacement so that you don’t have to do it every time.

Tagging: @kittiofdoom @justanothergal22 @sophspark @blinder-secrets @ree-duh @kamala-khaan if you would like to be tagged just lmk!

Just as the tension was getting to be almost too overwhelming, a waiter arrived with two menus, and you had never been so relieved to be served in your life.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling brightly as you took one and did your best to hide behind it under the guise of reading the dishes on offer. Thankfully there were pork free dishes on offer, which made you remember that you were going to have to educate Luca on Islam and it’s rules. Then you wondered if he would be as open and kind about there being another religion in his home as your father had been prior to his reversion. You guessed that Luca was Catholic, and while there were similarities between Catholicism and Islam, there were far more glaring differences.

“When we have our wedding,” you began hesitantly, “will it be in a church?”

“If I know my mother as well as I think I do, I doubt we’ll have a choice.” Luca joked. “Why?”

“Just checking!” You said quickly, going back to the menu. Even though there had not been a masjid in Small Heath, you had always dreamed of getting married in one. Your parents had to go all the way to London, so you figured that you would be able to do the same. Would New York have masjids? Would it have Muslims? Would it have Turkish Muslims?

“What's New York like?”

Luca paused, setting his menu down. “Well, for one, it’s a lot bigger than Small Heath.”

That made you smile. “I thought as much.”

“I don’t know, it’s just...hard to describe.” Luca drummed his fingers on the table, making your gaze flit down to his hand, and watch how elegantly it moved. “It’s full of life.” He said finally, his hand still again. “Everywhere you go there’s at least twelve dozen people around you, even at night it’s busy. Makes Small Heath look pretty sleepy in comparison.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you considered this. Your mind ran wild with images of towering spires, roads that went on for kilometers, people dressed in all manner of ways. Your life had been a sheltered one, but that was all about to change.

A waiter soon arrived, asking for your orders.

“I’ll have the chicken Alfredo.” Luca said. He and the waiter both looked over at you, waiting for your order.

You began to panic as you had become too wrapped up in your thoughts to think of an order. “Oh um, make it two!” You said, inwardly wincing at how your voice raised at the end.

But the waiter made no indication of noticing, merely made a note of the orders and said that the kitchen would get right to it.

You looked back down at your teacup, eyes traveling over the lines, both dark and faint, trying to figure out what they were trying to tell you, if anything.

“Have you had much Italian food?” Luca asked, and you were grateful for the distraction.

“Not really.” You said. “Just Turkish and English food.”

“Well I can’t speak on Turkish food, but English stuff sucks.” Luca said bluntly.

A giggle slipped from you. “It can be pretty bland.” You agreed. “I mean, the English have an empire that spans the entire globe, with colonies that have incredible spices, but they never use them in cooking for some reason.” That would never cease to bamboozle you.

Luca grinned and chuckled. “I know Matteo can’t wait to be back in New York with proper food.”

You furrowed your brow. “Which one is he?”

Luca raised a brow, but pointed at a booth just a few meters away, where you recognised two of Luca’s men. “The one of the left is Matteo, and the other is Frederico.” He explained. “Matteo can be a little hot headed, but he’s loyal. Frederico is more quiet.” His gaze went back to you. “And they will both protect you.”

While the notion of being protected and watched by gangster was far from a new one, the gangsters in question were usually men you knew well. You glanced at them nervously. “So, they’re ok with this whole marriage thing.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Luca said dismissively. “They’re soldiers, and they’ll do what they’re told.”

You knew that was meant to put you at ease, but it didn’t work. They had orders yes, but orders have been ignored before. And you couldn’t help but wonder how they really felt about their leader marrying some girl from England, who belonged to a family that not a week ago they were planning to kill. You fisted the fabric of your dress that rested on your lap.

“W-Why me?” You asked quietly. You had managed to keep the question away from the front of your mind so far, but you needed to know. “Why would you choose me? If you were going to marry anyone, Ada would’ve been the smart choice. She’s Tommy’s sister, and she already has a son, she knows how to…” You trailed off, face burning. “Well, you know.” You cleared your throat. “Why are you marrying me?”

Luca was silent, his unreadable, impassive gaze slowly going over you. It made the hairs all over your body stand up, in fact your surprised that the hair on your head hadn’t all magically sprung to life. “I wanted to repay a debt.”

You furrowed your brow. “Debt? What debt? You don’t owe me anything.”

“It isn’t my debt.” Luca clarified. “It’s my mother’s.”

“Your...mother?”

He nodded. “She hasn’t forgotten, how you got her out of Small Heath.”

Oh. You looked back down, face flushing again. “I didn’t help your mum to have her in my debt.” You said, horrified that that’s what they, the Changretta’s and their people, all thought.

“I know.” Luca sounded calm, patient. “My mother said you weren’t that type. But you still got her out of Thomas’s path, and because of you she’s alive. I’m just repaying you. Now we’re even.”

You nodded, slowly, still not sure what to make of this reason, if it was in fact the truth.

If you were completely truthful, you hadn’t been thinking at all when you had gone to help Audrey Changretta. You just knew that her husband was dead, after hours of torture, and you knew that Tommy wouldn’t have thought twice to go after her. You still remembered that day, as if it had just happened.

While the early morning fog had still clung to your ankles, you raced to her home, heart hammering. You were terrified that you were too late or that she wasn’t home, but she was there, tired and a little disheveled, but there.

“You have to leave.” You had blurted out. “I’m so sorry. Tommy’s killed your husband and you have to go I’m so sorry I really am but you need to go please, please just go!”

It had taken you a few minutes to calm down and fully explain everything, but once you had, Mrs Changretta did as you asked. You even helped her pack, and kept an eye out for any Blinders. You went with her to the train station, all the while telling her how sorry you were. You were almost hysterical, and in tears by the time her train arrived. You thought that would be the last time you ever saw a Changretta.

When Tommy heard that Mrs Changretta was gone, he was livid. You had walked in on him yelling at John and Arthur, demanding that they go out and find her, leave no stone unturned, no person unquestioned. He was going to have his pound of flesh, one way or another.

“She’s gone.” Once again your mouth had moved faster than your brain could think, and you stared, wide eyed, as the three brothers and Polly all looked at you in shock.

“She’s what.” Tommy’s tone had been dripping with venom, and it sent a chill all through you.

“I’m sorry Tommy but I-I helped her leave.” You wilted a little, hunched over, equal parts ashamed and scared. “She didn’t do anything Tommy! She-”

You were cut off by the feel of skin colliding harshly against your cheek, sending you to the ground.

In a daze you looked up, to see Tommy being restrained by Arthur and John, while Polly screamed at him.

“YOU DON’T RAISE A HAND TO FAMILY LIKE THAT THOMAS!” You had never seen your aunt so furious, and it had only made your state worse.

“DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!” Thomas roared, eyes alight with rage. “YOU BETRAY THIS FAMILY AGAIN AND YOU’RE OUT!”

You began to cry. “I-I’m sorry Tommy! I’m sorry!” You wept and begged for forgiveness, but that had only angered Tommy further.

“Should ship you to fucking Istanbul!” He snarled. He paused when a child’s cries began to echo in the house, making him look at the ceiling. “And you fucking woke up Charlie!” Tommy managed to shake off his two brothers, and he glared down at you before getting out a cigarette. “I mean it.” He said, in his low, quiet, dangerous voice. “If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll put you in a fucking crate myself.”

Even after Polly got you out of the house you were sobbing, still saying how sorry you were.

“Don’t be sorry sweetheart.” Polly had said gently. “You did a good thing.”

‘Did I?’

“How is your mother?” You asked, trying to ignore the memory of the stinging pain from Tommy’s slap.

“She’s alive, which is what matters.” Luca smiled gently. “Thank you. I mean that. My mother is all I have left now.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “I would do it again.” You said, only realizing how true it was once all the words had left your mouth.

“Two chicken Alfredos.” The waiter had reappeared, carrying the dishes on a silver platter and laying them out in front of the both of you.

“Grazie.”

“Thank you so much.”

The waiter nodded before moving onto another table.

“Still can’t believe you people don’t tip.” Luca said, sounding genuinely mistified.

“What’s a tip?”

#luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders x reader #GUESS WHO'S BACK #BACK AGAIN

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the-west-meadow · 5 years

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A Lover of Theatre - Chapter 5

Luca Changretta x OC

Summary: After receiving devastating news from the theatre, Nola meets Luca in an emotionally fragile state of mind.

Luca sat by the window that morning looking over the gray city of Birmingham, a cup of espresso steaming on the table, untouched. Before him was a sheet of paper on which he had written the address of Shelby Company Limited on a piece of hotel stationary. He had not reached out to Polly as he told Nola he would. Polly wouldn’t have to know he was involved in the appearance of Nola Gray at her doorstep, in whatever fine attire she might be wearing that day, he mused.

There was a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” he called absently.

Matteo unlocked the door with his personal key, followed by Frederico. The two dark-suited men stood there like shadows in his kitchen, which was drained of the golden light that had graced it on the night of his dinner with Nola.

Luca gestured to the espresso machine on the counter, and without a word the two men helped themselves to small porcelain cups.

Matteo seated himself across from Luca at the dinette while Frederico stood off to the side, staring out the window with his hat and espresso in hand.

“You have to tell me what you’re thinking, boss, else I don’t know what’s going on around here,” Matteo said bluntly in Italian.

“What don’t you know?”

“Your lady friend. Nola Gray? She’s not just any Gray, huh?”

Luca inclined his head as if praising Matteo for his discovery. “Right. Not just any Gray.”

“She on your list now?”

Luca’s face darkened subtly. “You’ve seen how I treat the people I’m going to kill. After all this, you think Nola is on some list of mine?”

Matteo held up his hands. “Like I said. I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

Luca tipped back his espresso as his eyes passed over Matteo and Frederico.

“When that woman is in your presence, you will protect her as if you were protecting me. Like I’m paying you to do.”

“Sure, sure,” Matteo said, nodding. “But how do you know whose side she’ll take in the end?”

Now Luca held up his hand imploringly. “How can you expect me to know, Matteo? I told you my thoughts. Just do as I say and make sure she doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.”

A silence overcame them, and rain began to fall outside the window as the three men sipped their espressos, each wrapped in their own thoughts.

Nola waited for Luca’s call that morning as clouds rolled over Birmingham. Rain was imminent. She gazed out at the dark streets and felt her thoughts spiraling slowly downwards. Dinner with Luca had shined like a bright candle in her thoughts in the days since they met. But the candle flickered and nearly died each night as the theatre crowds diminished, and no positive reviews appeared in the paper.

The director was spiraling, too, and talked blatantly about shutting down the production. The Play was meant to run for a month; now it seemed that it might not last the week. The patrons of the theatre weren’t interested in funding an “avant-garde” play. They preferred the musicals and comedies that had always been popular in Birmingham. Which meant Nola would be out of a job. Her heart pounded and her head grew light at the thought of going to the theatre tonight to face that fate.

She lay in bed with all of this running through her mind. Her restless thoughts conjured up images of Luca across the table from her at dinner, his eyes shining in the candlelight. Then came unbidden images of him behind prison bars, biding his time, waiting to be released into the world once more.

The phone rang. She reached over the bed and picked up immediately.

“Hello?”

“Nola,” came Luca’s voice. “Let’s talk soon. About your aunt.”

“Yes. That sounds great.” She sat up quickly in bed. “There’s a café down the street from my apartment. Matteo will know it.”

“Good. Tomorrow morning?”

“Perfect. And Luca— thank you.”

“You got it.”

Luca wasn’t at the play that night, and Nola hadn’t expected him to be, but somehow it pained her to see his empty seat. She imagined him in his sharp black suit, seated upright in the red velvet chair. The familiar sight of him was her rock in a sea of debilitating anxiety and self-doubt. Now her hands shook and her breath rattled as she watched people filing into the theatre.

The show went on as usual. Malek gave his usual heart-wrenching performance. There was a patter of applause at the end, then the audience scattered. Nola stayed in her chair with a hollow feeling. Not long after, the director approached her with a strange look in his eye. She already knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“I just talked to the owner of the theatre. They’re shutting us down.”

Nola hadn’t known how she was going to react until that moment. What happened was that she merely nodded and stared out at the seats. She heard the director saying other words, but she didn’t understand them. At a certain point he walked away.

Then Malek came up to her in his street clothes, sympathy on his face. When she looked at him she started shaking her head.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.

He reached out and took her hand. “No. Don’t be sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and hung her head in darkness.

The next morning, Nola sat by the window in the café with her leg jittering, gazing out at the street with a cup of tea in her hand. She hadn’t even removed her black coat. Her intense, red-rimmed eyes peered out from waves of dark hair.

Matteo cruised up to the front of the café in the car, letting Luca out onto the sidewalk. Luca buttoned his long coat and glanced around habitually as he strode towards the entrance. Nola watched all of this distantly.

The bell on the door jingled as he stepped into the café. It was a small, cozy place that Nola frequented. There were pastries behind the glass counter, and the sound of the espresso maker put her at ease. This morning, however, everything put her on edge.

Luca came up and put a hand on the back of the seat across from her. His glistening brown eyes looked down from beneath his black hat.

“Good morning,” she greeted him weakly, glancing upwards.

“Good morning.” He removed his hat and sat down while absently unbuttoning his coat. He spoke in a low voice. “Pardon me for asking. Is something wrong?”

Nola couldn’t stop it from coming. Her hands were shaking out of control, and the next breaths that emerged were halting shudders. She gripped the edge of the table and shook her head, not comprehending what he had asked.

“Nola…”

She began shaking with silent sobs. Luca looked swiftly around the café and expertly pulled his chair around to block her from view.

“Oh God…” she whimpered, wiping her eyes. Something in her soul had ruptured, and a stream of hollow tears came forth relentlessly.

Then she felt his arm take her firmly around the shoulders. He was close, and his voice rumbled in his chest.

“It’s okay, dear. It’s okay.”

“Fuck it,” she sobbed. “It’s over. They cancelled my play.”

She could smell him, feel his warmth. He shielded her from onlookers as she shook in his encircling arms.

“You fucking serious?” he asked, a note of danger in his voice.

She just nodded, still heaving.

Luca’s heart was breaking to see her like this. Someone passing by stared at her blatantly. Luca shot them a deadly glare.

“Fuck off, eh? Vaffanculo!”

The onlooker hurried away. Luca lowered his voice, speaking once more to Nola.

“You want to go? Matteo’s right out front.”

She couldn’t speak. She only nodded. Luca grabbed his hat and lifted her out of her seat, throwing several coins on the table as they left.

It had started to rain. Matteo was sitting in the front seat with a newspaper spread open. He jumped in surprise as Luca slid into the car with Nola.

“Just drive, eh?”

“Back to the hotel?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Luca shot.

Matteo put on the gas, glancing nervously into the back seat. Nola was in full-blown panic mode, her hair and skin wet with rain and tears.

“Fuck everything,” she gasped, slamming the side of her fist against the window.

Luca gripped her arm. “Hey. I know exactly how you feel. Yes, fuck everything. It doesn’t fucking matter. This world is a shit hole.”

“Cosa sta succedendo?” What’s going on?

“Sta 'zitto!” Shut up!

“Let me out. I need to get out.”

“Matteo! Ferma l’auto!” Pull over!

Matteo whipped the car into an empty alley. Nola flung the door open, flying into the rain and collapsing against the brick wall.

Luca came out after her. Her face and hair were soaked, her hands trembling.

“I’m nothing. I’m nothing.”

Luca wrapped both arms tight around her and held her there. Her body shuddered in his grasp as she stood weeping into his shoulder.

“No you’re not,” he murmured into her ear. “No you’re not.”

He took her back to his room. Both of them were dripping with rain. Nola stumbled inside and stood uncertainly in his kitchen. Luca stood behind her and peeled her coat off her shoulders.

“Take a seat on the sofa.”

“I’m soaked.”

“Forget about it.”

She did as he said. Her head was numb, her body worn out from sobbing. She heard Luca ignite a burner on the stove and fill the kettle from the sink. He then slipped into his bathroom and came out with two fresh white towels, handing one to her. His black hair was plastered to his wet face.

“I’m extremely embarrassed,” she murmured, staring off.

“Matteo won’t gossip,” Luca said, turning to fetch the kettle. He brought her a cup of chamomile tea, setting it on the glass coffee table where it steamed. He sat in the chair adjacent to her with the towel around his neck.

She ran her towel over her face and let out a long, shuddering breath. Finally she had the courage to look at him. His white shirt stuck to his skin, black pants clinging to his thighs. His throat gleamed, damp with rain. His dark, even eyes peered back at her.

It was only then that she realized how much older he seemed. There must be ten years between them, she thought, if not more. He was a man of the world, and had known from experience how to deal with her breakdown. A man her own age might have faltered and dropped her, whereas Luca had deftly carried her to safety, even relating to her nihilistic outburst of feeling.

“Something you don’t know about me,” he began quietly, “is that my father died not long ago. He died here in Birmingham. That’s the real reason for my visit.”

Nola looked at him, full of sympathy. An ironic pain filled his eyes.

“So yeah. Fuck everything.” He smirked humorlessly. “I think we both have a right to say that.”

Nola watched the steam rising from her tea.

“How did he die?”

“He was murdered by a gang in this city.” He bit back the bitterness in his voice. “My time here has not been easy. But seeing your play brought me to another place. Like I was standing on a shore that could carry me far from here.”

Nola nodded, listening to his voice.

“I might be nothing,” he continued, “but you’re not. Your work shows that. There is a lot inside of you.”

They locked eyes once again. Nola felt tears returning to her eyes, but fought them back.

“Thank you,” she said in a brittle voice. “I’m sorry about your father.”

“So am I.” He looked out the window, his eyes narrowed sharply. “I’m putting you in touch with Polly Gray. You should be with family right now.”

“I don’t even know them.”

“I think you’ll find you’re a lot alike.”

#luca changretta fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #Adrien Brody #polly gray

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justlulu · 2 years

Text

Family Business

He holds her up against the cold bathroom wall, letting her wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders.

They’re pressed tight, she can feel the piece of iron hidden under his jacket. He hasn’t taken it off, to make things as quick as he can, only caring to lower his pants down enough to free his erection.

His firm body keeps her pinned to the hard surface, making it impossible for her to move her hips. Not that she would complain, she loves sitting back and enjoying it as he pounds into her in a punishing pace, moaning and gasping at every sharp thrust.

“Shut-fuck..shut up!” He snarls through his teeth as his hand comes to her face to cover her mouth. He too, is trying his hardest to hold back.

She knows how much Matteo loves to be vocal; she’s had the pleasure of seeing him with no self restraints the only two times they have been able to be like this alone, and not in a house full of soldiers and relatives. He was so passionate, giving her way more than the low groans he’s allowing now.

He keeps his lips attached to her neck, fighting the urge to suck and bite not to leave any marks, only grunting as he quickens his pace.

His public bone beats repeatedly on her clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves until the wave expands throughout her whole body, making her shut he eyes curl her toes.

“Teo! Oh-Please you..come inside.” She manages to utter through her constant moaning.

His hand tightens over her mouth to the point it almost hurts, but he’s heard her already. The words give him the final push that makes him see white, but he doesn’t comply to her request, pulling out at last instead, and spraying his hot seed all over her sex.

“Stop fucking saying that.” He scolds her after he’s regained his breath, as he removes the hand from her mouth and helps her unlock her legs from his body.

“Why?” She asks innocently, earning a stern look from him.

“You know why.” He replies, ripping a peace of toilet paper and moving a foot between hers to spread her legs.

“You love it.”

He stays silent, and she knows she’s right. Who wouldn’t? But they can’t take any risks.

She lets out a chocked gasp as Matteo’s hand gently swipes on her sex to clean the mess of fluids there, moving to her thighs way too soon.

He won’t admit it, but he’d love nothing more than to have her spend the rest of the night with his come sticking to her skin, hidden under a fancy dress and a pretty facade.

But no, they have to be careful. One wrong step, and it would be over. Screwing one of their women in the boss’ house? They would have his head.

He is supposed to be a man of honor, and not giving in to the lust when it comes to a woman in any way related to another man of honor, is a commandment. He shouldn’t even look at her, but she makes it so damn difficult.

He fixes her underwear and her dress, before throwing the damp paper in the toilet and taking another piece to clean himself as well.

“I can help you.” She moves closer to him with a sultry smile on her lips. He won’t fall for it.

“Stop it.”

She ignores him and reaches for his crotch as he throws this paper in the toilet as well, but he is fast to grab both of her wrists in a tight grip.

“Enough!” He snaps, as he pushes her back against the wall. His jaw clenches and the vain on his forehead starts to pulse.

She ignores the pain in her back, her attention is fixated on his eyes. They have a glint in them, a spark she knows comes out when he’s working. Working. She knows he’s a violent man, they all are, and a distant part of her brain warns her not to push too hard on his buttons.

But she loves to tease him, and after all, she hasn’t got much to loose. If she really looks at the bigger picture, what would happen to her? She’s invisible in her family, only invited to the event for pure formality. At least let her have some fun, let her give them something real to despise her for.

But another part of her lets emotion take over; she doesn’t love Matteo, it’s not what brings them together. She knows she uses him just to spite the family, as well as she knows he uses her for his own selfish reasons, whatever they might be. Still, a pang of guilt and maybe a pinch of sadness envelopes her at the thought of something bad happening to him. So she decides to step back for tonight.

“I’m sorry.” She masters her most innocent looking face she knows he loves so much.

He seems to calm down easily, sighing as he releases her wrists.

“Tu mi fai uscire pazzo, mi fai, eh picciotta?” (You drive me crazy, little girl) He positions himself in front of her, hands on his hips and head shaking slowly. It almost looks like an angry parent lecturing their rebellious kid.

“I’m sorry.”

“Se, se..” (Yeah, yeah..) He brushes her off, turning to face the sink and look at his reflection in the mirror that hangs over it. He checks his hair, his tie, the collar of his shirt. Everything needs to be smooth.

She looks at him through the glass and suppresses a smirk at the annoyance he gives away when he notices the trace of red lipstick on his left palm.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” Now, that was an unspoken rule.

It mostly concerned the matter of the lipstick. He spent at least ten minutes to wash it away from his own lips the first time they hooked up, and he ended up being late for an important reunion.

“I gave you enough, don’t you think?” He dries his hands and turns back to her.

“Yeah. But I always need you.”

Little minx. That, right there, is where his condemnation lays. She knows exactly how to arouse him. She’s studied him, analyzed his character, and discovered the man has a thing for feeling powerful. The thought of her needing him is enough to have him stick around.

He takes a few steps and he’s an inch from her again. They never brake eye contact as his hand meets her neck first, sliding under her chin to tilt her head slightly up with his thumb, and finally cupping her cheek, all while scrutinizing her face as if looking for something there.

He leans down, and presses his lips gently on the opposite cheek. Not what she meant, but she smiles at him anyway.

“Now go.” He instructs, nodding his head once towards the door.

She pushes herself off the wall, smoothing her dress at the same time, before she raises on the tip of her toes, grabs his face hard with both hands and quickly presses a kiss on his lips.

He hasn’t fully realized what happened until he hears her giggling as she sprints out the door, but his hand goes instinctively to his lips and comes back red. Again.

“Cazzo!” (Fuck!)

**********

A./N. I really should be studying, but what are you gonna do when you have this much inspiration? Not waste it, that’s for sure.

A quick explanation: this is an OC I mentioned a while ago in this post. I’m gonna write short pieces such as this one. (I don’t know if they can classify as Drabbles or something else.) There’s no start to this story, nor there’s an end, it’s just a collection of moments this person lives. And random ones as well, some could be smut, some fluff, some angst and all that!

Suggestions for the OC’s name? It can be both Italian or English, just keep in mind it’s a girl.

xoxo L

#peaky blinders #peaky blindrs season 4 #luca changretta #matteo changretta #matteo peaky blinders #frederico peaky blinders #frederico changretta #changretta family #italian men #italian mafia #sicilian mafia #fanfic #tv series #imagines #fanfiction #smut #bbc peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut

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justlulu · 2 years

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Imagine: Getting hurt and Luca’s men taking care of you.

A./N. To have a better concept of the universe this takes place in, I suggest you read this, this and this first. Enjoy;)

It’s a feeling like none you’ve ever experienced before. A piercing pain that pulses through your whole body, taking your breath away and making your body contort on itself, or so it would be if wasn’t for the hands holding you down and efficiently blocking your movements.

Frederico sits on the floor with his legs parted to make room for you. He holds your torso up, with your back against his front in a forced embrace. His arms hold yours, pressing them on your chest with your hands under your chin, wrists secured in his large hands.

The position leaves access to your abdomen. where a red spot is expanding way too fast, soaking your shirt with blood. Matteo rolls the fabric upwards, just enough to take a look at the wound, his skilled fingers careful not to let the rough material graze on your open flesh. Fortunately, the wound is fresh enough not to have the fabric stick to it, but even the air hurts when it hits the spot.

The sight makes you shiver: there’s a whole of ripped skin and flesh, and a hot, dense lava coming out of it. Your eyes are wide and locked on the wounded area, looking at it through your tears that tarnish the visual.

“I don’t want-” Your voice shakes with your body as you try to let the words out. “I don’t wanna die. Please, I don’t-”

“Shh..sh..you’re not.” The voice comes from right behind you but it feels distant. “You’re not.” Frederico repeats, going as far as to press his lips on the side of your head.

“It hurts..” You cry in a small voice.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Matteo’s gonna take care of it, hm?”

Matteo reaches behind him to grab a series of metallic tools you’re not lucid enough to wonder where they came from, but they look terrifying and cause a pathetic whimper to come out of your mouth. You start trashing to get away from them, but you can’t overpower the firm hold Frederico has on you. You’re too weak anyway, the loss of blood is already consuming your energy and all you manage is a few kicks that don’t get you any distant from where you are.

“C’mon, stop it.” The man behind you insists,“You’re gonna make it worse.” He accompanies his words with a slow movement of his thumb on your restrained hands, caressing back and forth.

It doesn’t make you feel any better. You shake your head furiously, sobbing and begging them to let you go.

Matteo places himself on your thighs, legs on either side of them. All your limbs are restrained now, and when your body tries unconsciously to get free and fails, your sobs get hysterical. You feel trapped, and when breathing was a little difficult before, it gets impossible now.

With your arms and legs held down, the only thing that actually moves as you keep struggling is your waist and lower torso, the exact center of your pain.

“Cazzo! Fermala Mattè!” (Fuck! Stop her Matteo!)

The man in front of you puts the metallic objects down to use his free hands to pin your hips to the ground.

Your close your eyes and let your body shake with your sobs when you see Matteo’s hands are also too strong to fight.

“Hey, shh,sh..look at me.” Matteo reaches an arm forward, closing his hand around your chin to direct your face to him.

“I said look at me.” You obey his order, slowly opening your eyes. “I know it hurts, and I know you’re scared, okay? But you’re gonna have to trust me now. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but you have to be brave for me.” He says, his voice both confident and soft at the same time.

“Alright?” His fingers caress your wet cheek as he speaks, brushing your tears away. You give a small nod.

“Take a deep breath for me.” He instructs, doing it himself before you copy his actions.

“Brava. Another one.”

Your cry has died down at this point, leaving you to silently sniff and tremble.

“Close your eyes now. It’ll be better.”

Matteo takes back his position, rubbing his warm hands on your sides as he asserts you’re somewhat more relaxed, before grabbing one of the tools again.

Your whole body goes rigid as a sharp and pointed object meets your open wound, not touching it directly but brushing close enough to send an excruciating pain along your nerves. Your legs would have curled upwards if it wasn’t for the weight holding them down.

You find yourself biting down a hand that has been put in your mouth without you noticing. Frederico only grits his teeth as you almost tear his own flesh, but keeps his hand still, giving you something to unload the tension on.

You don’t know how long you resist before your vision starts to go blurry, but you’re happy to notice you can’t feel anything where Matteo is working.

Their voices fade as your consciousness slips and returns.

“It’s almost done, you’re doing so good.”

You don’t know who’s talking.

“Mantienile la testa.” (Hold her head.)

Two fingers brush a lock of hair that sticks to your sweaty forehead.

“Sto qua io finché non si sveglia, tu chiamalo.” (I’ll stay here till she wakes up, you call him.)

**********

A./N. I think I just discovered my love for angst!

I love this pair, and I’m not saying I’d like someone to shoot me only for them to patch me up, but I mean, yeah I would.

xoxo- L

#peaky blinders #luca changretta #matteo peaky blinders #matteo changretta #frederico changretta #frederico peaky blinders #fanfic #tv series #imagines #fanfiction #luca changretta angst #italian mafia

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