#luca changretta fic

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Animal - A Luca Changretta/Reader One Shot Story.

It's here, besties! :D Hope you like it!

Words - 2,380

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“I want you, Luca. I want you in every single way a woman can enjoy a man. I want your mouth all over me, your hands to touch every last inch of my flesh, to paint your pleasure across me like I’m a canvas, until every colour in the palette runs into the next. I want you to fuck me until I’ve no voice left, until I’m trembling and gasping for breath, until I’m begging you to stop, but pleading with you to keep going all at once.  

I want you to be rough with me, wrap my hair around your fist, fuck me brutally from behind until I gush all over your beautiful, perfect big cock. I want you to turn me over and fucking choke me on it, fuck my mouth until I gag and spit on it, making it wetter before you tell me that I’m you’re dirty little puttana and you love me for it. You know I’ll swallow every goddamned drop when you finally come for me, too. 

In short, my darling, I want the kind of sex that would make half the barbarity in the Old Testament look tame. Hurry, lover. I miss you.” 

The note fluttered from his grasp, a wide-eyed and very, very hard Luca lost to a sexual daze, the near ever-present toothpick in his mouth dangling from his lower lip. “Is this broad for fuckin’ real?” he whispered, wondering how in the fuck he was even meant to stand up after reading that, let alone put one foot in front of the other and then drive a car without crashing it.  

Not only had you told him how heavily your want was stirred for him, you’d told him in the dirtiest, yet most poetic way he’d ever had a message conveyed to him. He isn’t sure he wouldn’t have suffered a heart attack, had you actually whispered those words in person.  

He can, however, muster the strength to rise and, with trousers entirely too tight due to the colossal erection your words have left him with, walk somewhat awkwardly to the telephone.  

“Is that my insatiable Italian? 

“You’d be real embarrassed if it was your mother calling you right now, huh?” he drawls, rolling his toothpick over his lower lip with this tongue.  

“But it isn’t, so I’m safe,” you chuckle, “So, how can I help you? I take it you found my reading material?” 

“I did,” he confirms, “and how you can help me is getting over here right fuckin’ now. I’ll send a driver.” He hangs up before you can confirm your presence, knowing that just by the sultry tone of his voice, he’s tightly wound, and a tightly wound Luca is never worth missing out on.  

After all, watching him unravel is half the fun of doing the tight winding in the first place. 

Upon your arrival, you find him reclined on the sofa, long, lean legs spread, a hand rested to his thigh, index finger pointing very deliberately at the giver of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever received.  

“You called?”  

“And you wrote, didn’t you?” he smirks, looking you up and down. Oh, you’re in trouble now, the absinthe green glint of his eyes conveying a weight that should topple your nerves, yet it only serves to electrify. “Yeah, doll. I’m only surprised the paper didn’t fuckin’ catch fire.”  

Lifting your chin, your grin is all self-satisfied accomplishment, knowing that you've stirred the beast in him. It only ever prowls just below the surface, though, awakened at a moment's notice. “So, now I’m here?” 

He rises from the sofa, sauntering to you while reaching into his pocket, the press of his thumb releasing the long, sharp blade, the flick knife brandished. “Now the fun begins, baby.” Reaching you, his hand grasps your jaw, fingertips indenting your flesh, the precursor to a slow, sumptuous glide over your anticipation-riddled skin. Clutching your dress, he brings the knife up, slicing into the fabric, his hands grasping to literally tear it open.  

The sound runs sharp beneath your skin, sends flint strikes through your blood, the cold of the blade dragged into your cleavage before he cuts your bra from you, your undies next on the path of destruction. Stepping from your shoes, the floorboards beneath your feet feel cool in contrast to the inferno of his stare, Luca casting the knife aside, his long arms snaking around you as he puckers a searing kiss to your sternum, descending slowly as he drops down to kneel before you.  

“La mia dea,” he whispers, pressing a kiss upon your pubic mound, hands smoothing down deftly over every rise and fall of your body. “You should know you’re the only woman in the world I’d gladly fall to my knees for.” Lifting your thigh to rest over his shoulder, he runs his tongue up it in a in a languid glide, teeth closing in a sharp bite. “But that don’t mean I’ll fuckin’ go easy on you, though.”  

You’d expect nothing less.  

Letting the heat of his breath flutter over your sex, he teases you with the promise, tongue touching his top lip momentarily as he leaves you teetering on anticipation. He strikes like a viper, mouth wrapping around your slit and sucking with a hungry grunt, knocking the breath from your lungs. His hands glide down your back, resting on your bum, squeezing the rounded orbs in his big hands as the flat of his tongue seeks the pearl of your clit, beginning to work in a side-to-side beat.  

The fever he evokes rises like a summer storm, a swirling tempest of wet dragging against you, his piercing, green stare defying you to look away as your mouth drops open, a shrill cry shattering the silence of the room. Your hands move, one reaching to grip his arm, the other sliding into the silken raven of his hair, grasping, tugging hard as your hips begin to weave against the relentless beat of a very hot, very eager tongue.  

He has you clasped hard, but balanced upon one leg you feel precarious already, teetering, the pleasure beginning to throb strongly through your core, a grunting rumble from your lover causing a fierce prickle to jab against your insides. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted, getting to feel this pretty little cunt drip all over my tongue.”  

His hands continue to knead at you as his tongue drags down, pushing against your streaming little hole, the hook of his nose rubbing over your clit as he tongue fucks you with aplomb. A hail of pain meets your skin deliciously when he releases his grasp, hitting the round of your bum with a spank so hard, your eyes water. Another and he has you mewling, a third and you’re crying out in rapture, the honey of your cunt flooding his mouth, Luca licking your slow and firm back to your clit, wrapping the throbbing little bud in a hard, unrelenting suck. 

Your stance falters, and his hands clench at you, arms tensing as he keeps you upright. He might be skinny and lithe, but lord, he’s deceptively strong. He pulls you against the ferocity of his mouth further, tongue working you harder, meeting your gaze with a wink that sets the sparks in your belly to burn.  

The heat of his mouth suffuses through to your very marrow, builds rapidly like a supernova, the black holes of his inked pupils devouring the lush green as he watches you falling apart for him, being remade around the rapid, carnal beat of his tongue. The sensation of it sends tiny arrows darting through you, a mist of heat radiating your spine as you pant, your clutch within his hair and upon his arm tightening as you rock against each lick.  

“Fuck, Luca!” The words are torn jagged from your throat, chest heaving as it hits you in ceaseless waves. He groans as you trickle into his mouth, drinking the undoing from you as you cry out, every colour illuminating, throwing your head back and submitting to the never-ending inferno darting over your nerves. 

He releases your leg, letting your foot return to the floor, but holds you tight in his grasp, tongue gentling before kissing his way back up your shuddering body as he rises, the taste of your orgasm on his lips making your insides quake. You reach for his waistcoat, nimble fingers hurried in your quest for his nakedness, tie and shirt following, your diligence having him bare before you speedily.  

He presses a kiss to your neck, looking down at you with a mix of triumph and amusement. “Can you walk?”  

“Probably not,” you confess, watching his eyebrow flutter. 

“Fine,” he rumbles, making a circular motion with his long, outstretched forefinger. “Turn around and bend over.” You do as you’re instructed, anticipation ghosting your skin as you feel the heat of him behind you, Luca taking his cock and dragging it in tease over your slippery folds.

Sliding the head down to stroke over your clit, the lust tumbles through him wildly at watching your little hole spasm, pushing into you just enough to widen you, pulling out again and returning his cock to push against your bud.  

He did say he wouldn’t go easy on you.  

“Please, Luca,” you gasp, feeling him inch in again, no mercy given, leaving you empty once more. His hand weaves into your hair, an olive skinned, tattooed, gold adorned grasp clenching tight, pulling you flush against his chest.  

“You said that you wanted me to paint my pleasure across you like you’re a canvas, but baby doll, you know better than anyone I don’t paint within the lines.” His free hand slides up your body, grasping your breast, rolling your nipple in a tight crush between his thumb and forefinger. “Beg me.”  

“But...” 

“Ah, ah, cara mia,” he reprimands, yanking your hair so hard, the pain sears across your scalp. “Beg.” 

“Please, Luca.” Swallowing hard, your nerves buzz at the sensation of his cock sliding back and forth over your clit, keening to feel it fill your gaping hole. “Please fuck me. Please feed me every inch of that gorgeous, big cock. I need it. I need you. Please. I’m begging you.”  

He pushes forth once more, a few more inches stretching you out, his cock twitching against your walls before he leaves you bereft once more. “Beg again.” 

“Luca, I...” 

His hand meets your bum in a ferociously hard slap. “I said beg. Again.”  

Fire roars over the frost spiking at every nerve ending in your body, swallowing hard, your teeth crushing a bite upon your lower lip. “I’m begging for your cock, Luca. Please fuck me.”  

Again, he sinks back in, but this time you are blessed with every last thick, delicious inch, your walls stroked by hot, veiny hardness, the grasp within your hair released. His hands come to rest upon your hips, pulling back from you, until only the head of him remains. He lets you clench upon him, teasing you wickedly, forcing a primal groan when he fills you again with a sharp thrust.  

You expect him to continue in torture, but instead he gives you deliciously teasing alternation, pounding your heat rapidly one minute to slow right down the next. The thick head of his cock drags your wet plush slowly, so very, very slowly, sparks crackling, your heart thundering, his groans making your insides pulse with desire. 

It’s so good and he’s so thick and hot within you that you practically sob with pleasure, slow, slow, quick, quicker, slow, agonisingly slow, so quick you feel he’s going to go through you and then back to slow again, until he has you shivering violently before him. He roots himself deep into you, pausing, feeling you flex on him with greed, spanking your already stinging backside before slowly dragging back again, the friction delicious. 

He’s iron hard within your molten core, his tease giving way to speed and piledriving your slick with lethal intent, ferociously aroused. Your skin smacks together, his grunts peppering the air, drowning out the soft little cries you emit in response to this, a full-on attack to your insides. You feel as if your legs are about to give way, the timing perfect when he slips out, turning your body to throw you over his shoulder with ease, matching you to the bedroom.  

You’re tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll, Luca grasping your ankles and hauling you across the mattress, plunging back into you while holding your legs high and wide, giving you not a single drop of mercy from the carnal, animalistic onslaught he delivers.  

Each speedily delivered thrust has you sparking, your walls clenching around the thick heat driving into you rapaciously, his cock pumping your release into you strongly, the waves beautiful as his lightning cracks your sky, your hands gripping the bedclothes beneath. He lets you cool down, slowing within you, enjoying the way your slick muscles feel as they flutter around him. 

It takes no time at all for the pace to be set to feral once more, holding your legs against his chest as he licks a circle at your ankle, marking the area he then brands with his teeth, virtually growling with incandescent arousal. His stare is broken by his eyes closing tightly, a string of swears gritted, pulling from your soaking cunt, hauling your shattered body to the edge of the bed.  

“Open your fuckin’ mouth.” You do, his cock sliding between your lips, hand fisting tight into your hair and holding the back of your head firmly, hips beginning to pump against your face. “Yeah, that’s it, my dirty little puttana. Fuck, I love you.”  

He fucks your mouth like he doesn’t, hard, accerbic with you, making you practically choke on his cock until with a deep, guttural groan, he’s spilling into your throat, hot white swallowed down, just as you told him you would.  

“Mmmm,” you purr, after releasing his twitching cock, licking your way up to his neck, the black cross the focal point of your teeth. “If that’s what I get, I’m going to have to write to you more often.”  

#luca changretta #luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #luca changretta x you #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #adrien brody

[mxpseudonym]

Apple Cherry Blossom

Pairing: Luca x Blossom OC

Summary: Luca would like a little jealousy from his wife now and again.

Length: 1166 words

Warnings: None

A/N: I couldn't help myself 😭. I got inspired by “The Story of Ming Lan” and had to write this out. I hope you enjoy this out-of-the-blue post.

..

She held a half-eaten cherry in one hand and a pencil in the other. The account book on the desk in front of her laid open was for their new house. She would have to keep track of things like that now that she was officially a Changretta and a homemaker.

She put the rest of the cherry in her mouth, pitting it with her molars and tongue. Just when she was finished, a cup appeared in front of her mouth and she dropped the pit in to join the growing pile. Before she could think about it, another cherry was being held to her lips.

The attendant was none other than her husband who seemed both deep into the story he was telling her about his trip around town that led him to obtain a half pound of cherries, yet alert enough to steadily alternate between feeding them to her and providing a bowl to spit pits into.

She looked away from the amount they paid the butcher every month and up to Luca who was talking wildly with his free hand while patiently holding the cherry with the other.

“And finally we were walking through the street and this girl runs up to Ronnie. Would you believe it was Angela Cappoli? Could barely recognize her since she’s all grown up. And- here, it’s sweet,” Luca said, stopping his own story to push the fruit onto her.

She leaned back and picked up her glass of water first, taking a sip before catching the plump dark purple fruit between her teeth and letting him pull the stem.

“Angela Cappoli, can you believe it? Ma used to say we’d get married, you know?”

“Really? Why?”

“The Cappoli’s were bigger than us when I was in her belly, and she said a marriage could bring us together since Mrs. Cappoli was pregnant at the same time. Never worked out,” he concluded. Blossom nodded then dropped the pit in the cup. “You don’t have to worry about anything like that.”

“Worry?”

“Well we were a little sweet on each other for a while,” he admitted sheepishly. “But it wasn’t anything to be upset about.”

“I’m not upset, though?” She pointed out before before going back to her book. Luca blinked at her the squinted a bit. The next cherry from the little carton went to his mouth instead. This was his fault, really.

He was too honest and straightforward with her. He never wanted some miscommunication to come from vague, choppy words so he just told her everything. Blossom, therefore, didn’t worry about him lying to her. In conclusion, she had no reason to be the jealous type, sometimes to his dismay.

“It was a long time ago,” he continued carefully. “But today, she was real chatty. Kept reminiscing on old dates we had. And then she ran and gave me some of her parents’ apples.” He went back to feeding Blossom cherries, this time doing two in succession to watch her cheeks get a little chubby. “Don’t worry, I gave the apples to my sister-in-law.”

“You should’ve kept them, you like apples,” she said absently while flipping to a new page. Luca stared at her in disbelief.

“If my father told my mother, the sensible woman she is, that he’d taken the apples from an old sweetheart, even she’d give him a wack,” he told her. “And you’re not even the slightest bit worried about Angela?”

“Who cares about Angela? You’ve been talking for 20 minutes and haven’t even told me where these cherries came from,” Blossom reminded him. “Even if you wanted to marry her on your own, I wouldn’t mind if you took the apples. Your mother probably puts up a fuss to make your father feel good too. I doubt she thinks he’ll get taken away.”

Her mouth dropped open, ready to eat another cherry only to find there was none. She looked up, following Luca’s movements as he put the carton down and stood, heading to the couch. He laid out over the velvet and then looked at her with a dissatisfied face that was too similar to what children who felt wronged would pull. What was wrong with him now?

“You could pretend at least,” Luca grumbled. Blossom’s eyes roamed over his spread-out figure as she pondered. She was well within her rights to ignore him, and even confront him about being the strangest man she’d ever met. He wanted her to act foolish over another woman after all of the years they’d been together. No one could invite trouble, insist on it even, like him.

After a moment she stood. Picking up her glass, she took a healthy drink before tossing the last quarter at her husband and slamming the glass back onto her desk. Luca jolted, sitting straight up as he spluttered from the water up his nose. He blinked away droplets only to find Blossom with her hands on her hips.

“I leave you alone for one afternoon, and you go get yourself a woman to follow you around town?! A dog would be more loyal,” she scoffed. Luca blinked at her as she tsked and shook her head. “I should’ve known you weren’t over her. Her and her damn apples. Bastard.”

She clicked her tongue loudly and ignored the fact that the smile growing on Luca’s face had reached its widest point before he even knew to pretend like he wasn’t giddy. Luca wiped his chin and stood, walking around the coffee table to her.

“I haven’t thought about her in ages. Couldn’t even tell you what she was wearing. I only have my eyes on you. Ronnie’s got to keep me from walking in the street ‘cause I can’t see straight.”

Blossom turned from him and stopped herself from laughing at his ridiculousness. She only allowed a brief smile before rolling her eyes and putting her stern face back on. Luca’s arms didn’t waste a moment before they wrapped around her fully, almost making her lose balance.

“You’re mouth’s too sweet. Keeping me full of cherries just to pacify me. I shouldn’t have even let you come home. Go sleep on the street,” She scolded him the best she could with his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck. She could feel his grin.

“I have such a good wife. I’d sleep on the doorstep if you didn’t let me in. Happily.”

“I’ll let you off this time, but only because you can’t convince me you could find someone else to put up with you,” she concluded haughtily. Now that, he knew, was straight from her heart.

“I’ll go easier on my second wife,” he muttered, eyes closed peacefully even when Blossom’s head whipped around to him and tried unwrapping his arms that only wrapped tighter.

“Huh?!”

“Ah ah, stay like this. I’m just teasing. You’re my only wife until the end. The cherries are from Miss Martin. She said you’re sweet and pay good prices for her produce.”

Blossom muttered but finally leaned back into his embrace, “Rascal.”

#Luca x Blossom #Blossom OC #Peaky Blinders Imagine #Luca Changretta #Luca Changretta Fic #Luca Changretta Imagine #Luca Changretta x OC

[ceirinen]

December 2023

I decided to make a list of every fic I read each month.

I would like to interact more, but life has been complicated recently and when it comes to interacting, I get very anxious which is something I'm trying to overcome.

So, here I made this to appreciate such amazing writers and stories that inspire me and others everyday. To the authors, I want to thank them for their dedication and time spent on writing to offer us fascinating stories.

I totally recommend their work.

(If you are in this list and you don't want to, please let me know so I can fix it).

@cillianmesoftlyyy

So New | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader Method Acting | young!Cillian Murphy x Reader

@runnning-outof-time

Research | Tommy Shelby x Reader Bedtime Stories | Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter

@zablife

teacher!Luca Changretta x Reader Funeral | Tommy Shelby x sister!reader A Visit to the Peaky Blinders Set | Cillian Murphy x wife!reader

@gypsy-girl-08

Festive Spirit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader All I Need... | modern!Thomas Shelby x Reader A Gentle Warning | Thomas Shelby x wife!Reader

@pacifymebby

Arthur Shelby x Reader

@fkmarrycill

Pre-Gaming | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@holacia3

Lost and Lucky | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader Surprise visit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

@beastofburdenxo

Let Me Praise You | Tommy Shelby x Reader Raising Catherine | Tommy Shelby x Reader

@look-at-the-soul

If I let you go | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@your-nanas-house

What does my princess want? | sugar daddy!Cillian Murphy x sugar baby!reader I'm pretty sure you're mine | sub!William Killick x dom!fem!Reader What are we, idiot? | Neil Lewis x best friend!Reader Thirsty | Tommy Shelby x secretary!Reader

@raincoffeeandfandoms

To the end of the world | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Tommy, the teddy bear | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Emergency surgery | baby!Tommy Shelby Fanfiction | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Anon | Alfie Solomons

@lis-likes-fics

Loner | Edward Cullen x Reader At the End of the Day | Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader

@rafeology

Mentor!Finnick Odair x victor!reader

@wife-of-all-dilfs

Flower Therapy | Finnick Odair x Reader

@darlingsfandom

Cillian Murphy x Reader Tommy Shelby x artist!reader Soft sugar daddy | Robert Fischer x Reader

@pinguwrites

Home Is Where the Heart Is | William Killick x future!reader

@http-finnick

Skin to skin | Finnick Odair x fem!insomniac!reader

@acewritesfics

Lost Love | Tommy Shelby x Reader 36 Minutes | modern! Tommy Shelby x Reader

@dearshelby

Had you first | Tommy Shelby x Reader Little Tommy | Thomas Shelby x oc

@lau219

Red Carpet | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@peakyswritings

I Do Bad Things | demon!Tommy x Reader

@shelbystales

Ceramic Lessons | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@darthannie

Day eighteen: breeding kink with Lenny Miller | Lenny Miller x f!Reader

@hllywdwhre

Afterglow | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@red-write-hand

I'll be home for Christmas | Thomas Shelby x Reader

@mysaintkitten

Bad Behaviour | Mike Kiernan x fem!Reader

@notyour-valentine

The Spirits that I summoned | young!Tommy Shelby

@brummiereader

No Son Of Mine | Tommy Shelby

@youbyradiohead

Strawberry Syrup | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillianthinker

British accent | Cillian Murphy x Reader Young and in love | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillspropertea

Coming home | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillmequick

Operation Christmas Tree | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

#cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #neil lewis x reader #finnick odair x reader #thomas shelby x reader #lenny miller x reader #arthur shelby x reader #mike kiernan x reader #william killick x reader #alfie solomons x oc #robert fischer x reader #edward cullen x reader #tom buckley x reader #luca changretta x reader #fic rec #monthly reads #fic recommendation

[red-riding-wood]

Hi)

Saw that you’d like to write something angsty or maybe dark on Peaky Blinders🙂

Maybe Luca Changretta x reader where they slowly fall out of love with each other but meanwhile realize that they still will never leave because they’re so used to the way things are

(Also looking forward to your fic with Dmitri from The Grand Budapest☺️) 😘

Absinthe

Luca Changretta x F!Reader

Peaky Blinders

Warnings: sexual references, mention of kidnapping/violence, mention of domestic abuse, language, very vague allusion to suicide, lots of angst (this is not a happy story lol)

A.N. Thank you for the request!! I hope this is what you had in mind. I sort of wrote this on a whim at 5 am when I couldn't sleep and I ended up projecting a lot of my own shit onto both characters so I don't know if it'll be to your tastes 'cause I'm a bit iffy on this one myself. And thank you; I really hope to start writing Dmitri x Alice soon and am so excited for it!

WC: 1504

“You will not survive on your own, amore mio.”

You hesitated, your heart sinking into your gut as you feared his words to be true. A shiver danced wickedly across the bare of your flesh.

And then, tugging the Italian silk of your dress over your body, you stood, his hand falling from where it had sat cradled in your lap. The empty in your chest split a little wider; those fingers used to squeeze your hip and pull you back to bed as he’d beg you not to leave. Now, they seemed to possess no love, perhaps not even want.

You cast a glance to where they lay limp against the mattress, and dared to observe his sullen look, his clenched jaw, the way that eyes that used to be so bright with adoration now wouldn’t even look at you.

When was the last time he’d really looked at you?

It was probably when you were kids, just barely out of school, and the gloating smirk of the boy had fallen around his cigarette, and his green eyes had glittered like peridot, as you told him yes.

Yes, to marrying him. Yes, to loving him in sickness and in health. Yes, ‘til death did you part.

And this, this sickness of the heart, it had not released you from your oath. Instead, it killed you, slowly, snapped the threads of your soul one by one, seized one shard of your heart each time you looked at him.

The times that hurt the most were always when you looked him in the eye, because you saw your own need reflected in their decaying depths. It might’ve been easier if they were vacant, if they were as cold as his loveless touch and his bitter disposition.

“I may not,” you said. Silences weren’t uncommon between the two of you anymore; you never had anything to say that was joyful like you had in your youth. Breaking it felt like the air had simultaneously returned to your lungs while also being held captive, for you always couldn’t help but hope that he’d say something kind, but also didn’t know how long the silence would stretch afterward.

“But I’m hurting, Luca,” you said, your voice breaking now as a tear threatened to bead on your eyelash, and your chest tightened. “And this is the only way I can think of to be free of my pain. Other than…”

You swallowed a cruel lump in your throat. You didn’t wish to think about the alternative you had once considered.

Animated suddenly by a burst of raw yet barely caged violence, Luca tugged his robe sharply around his shoulders and fumbled for the box of matchsticks on the desk. He wedged one between the teeth he used to knead at it, his inhale deep. Both efforts to soothe a soul darkened by rot.

“I have to leave,” you said, but you had hardly made it more than a few feet to the door before his fingers had wrapped themselves vice-like around your wrist, yanking you back so that you nearly tripped over your heels. His wedding ring bit into the delicate flesh, chilling as it was painful.

And you had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“You’re not leaving,” he growled, his tone almost predatory but that gaze, green like absinthe, entrapping you in a sea of emotions, pleading to you in morose glimmers that peeked past umber stripes of rage.

As you fought your tears, you conceded to his grasp, knowing he could easily overpower you if he wanted. And you shook your head, your lip curling bitterly upwards at what you had to utter,

“I’ve changed. I’m not your wife anymore.”

“The papers state otherwise.”

“Is this really what you want?” Your lip trembled with your own fury now – a fury that stemmed from your agony because you had nothing tangible to blame it on. And you struggled against his grasp feebly. “Do you really want a wife who’s unhappy? A wife who goes to bed every night with a hole in her chest?”

Luca’s grip softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw hurt flash across his irises. He turned his head away and brought his fingers up to brush across the faint stubble of his jaw.

And when his grip released, your wrist had never felt so wretchedly cold, and when he slammed the door behind him, your chest had never felt so achingly empty.

---

He had been so close to hurting you that time. Really hurting you, like he did the men who crossed his family or offended his honour.

But he could never hurt you. At least, he told himself such things, because in some ways, when he looked at you – still a stranger to the scars of violence that riddled his own flesh – he could sometimes see a ghost of the girl who used to be his lover, who used to be the girl with the shy smile and the beguiled gaze.

His fingers travelled across his chest to his lips, as he uttered his final prayer. The incense of the chapel burned nearly as thick as the smoke of the cigarettes he used to worship. Before you had made him quit.

And what had he done for you? He had done everything. He had given you a marriage, when you had nothing to your name, had given you the finest silks and jewelry and had taken you on a perfect honeymoon to Italy where you had made love with his name chanting from your lips like a prayer. 

Luca twirled the toothpick in his teeth bitterly.

But in saving you, he had condemned himself. Even in the solace of this moment, he found himself craving your touch, however frigid it had grown. Found himself incomplete, numb.

He’d taken an interest in another broad recently – a maid, but beautiful, with a soft, heart-shaped face and gently curved hips that begged to be ruined.

But it sickened him to touch her.

Because she wasn’t you.

---

With Luca away, you had had time to pack your belongings – just the ones that you needed. All purely practical, except for a letter, its ink bleeding at the edges of its handwriting, the love draining from the words he’d once written you when away on business.

Though you knew you’d regret taking it, it had felt wrong to leave something that used to make you smile with so much joy.

You waited for the train in the dead of night, the wind your only companion as it howled through the archways of the station. But it was not enough to quell the fear in your gut or ease the weight that pressed harder against your suffocated chest with each passing second.

You stifled a sigh as a sharp whistle split the distant, foggy air. And you once again fought back tears that welled in your eyes.

And then the winds shifted, and the cedar and ambrette notes of his cologne stirred something in your chest. You shivered as the warmth of his body settled behind you, long fingers running down the sleeves of your arms. The weight lifted only slightly on your chest, and oxygen returned to starved lungs.

“I told you you weren’t leaving, amore mio.”

You shut your eyes, swallowing against the knot in your throat.

And you thought, with this weight no longer sinking into aching ribs,

I’m not gonna make it on my own.

Your luggage was dropped to the concrete as the train came chugging along, rearing its head of iron and steel from the mists.

His fingers laced through your own, squeezing gently at them, tugging wickedly at a frayed thread of your soul, and you reciprocated, remembering a time when you had worshipped this very hand.

When you turned, his hot breath was exchanged with yours, and the full scent of him washed over your tired bones in a bittersweet familiarity.

And when he kissed you, an ember sparked in your gut that only he had ever been able to ignite, and the heat that pooled in your core was not a desire but a need.

Iron spiked your tongue as you pulled apart, some wrath that still brewed inside you having drawn blood from his lip while your hand cupped his cheek in an almost reverence.

Absinthe eyes sank intensely into yours, and though you knew from that gaze that he wanted you dead, he also needed you just as much as you needed him.

“You were right,” you breathed, your voice a mere whimper against the noise of the train. “I can’t survive on my own.”

Locks of his dusky hair teased your scalp, and his thumb traced the flesh behind your ear soothingly. And you had no idea that, had you boarded that train, his men would’ve been ordered to gag you and deliver you screaming back to him. And though as your foreheads pressed together and your tears spilled from shuttered eyes, it did not banish the pain from the hole that split wider in a chest that bled as slowly as the ink of the letter.

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

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[padfootdaredmetoo]

Pt 6. Blood Bath

Things come to a head at Arrow House. The enemy makes their move as they have the Shelby family cornered.

Warnings: blood, graphic description of murder, panic, peaky themes

Previous Parts

Tommy watched the boy size him up, and he hated the respect he had for him. Noah cared about you more than he feared him. 

“Now before you round on me for kissing her, what are you going to do about that fucking priest.” The boy’s eyes were dark and his knuckles were white. 

So they had that conversation. 

“Need to clean this mess up first.” He answered not happy with the situation. 

“And after.” The boy pressed. 

“Haven't been in that business for a long time,” Tommy said not wanting to admit the murder he already had planned. 

“That’s still our business and -” 

“Then we’ll handle it together.” The words came out without thought. This seemed to put the boy at ease. 

“How long were you going to sleep on that?” His anger was understandable, he hated how much of himself he saw in the boy. 

“Only found out a few days ago-” The boy held up his hand. 

“Not the time to send people away. But you were going to do something about it.” Tommy gave him a nod, his patience wearing thin. This boy in his house questioning him on his love for his daughter. “Good. Sorry, Mr. Shelby.” 

Tommy cocked his head to the side slightly. 

“Just hate seeing her like that.” they both gave each other a nod. For your comfort, he let you stay in your own bed, unsurprised when he heard footsteps creaking into your room later that night.

Noah cared about you enough to be a man about the situation, and if a single kiss had you puking your guts out he felt like the danger of a pregnancy was too far away to be a concern. 

___________________________________________

You laid awake in bed thankful that Esme had looked after you throughout the afternoon. She made you some tea and broth, both helped settle your stomach but nothing helped the numbing buzz radiating through your system. Polly came through in the evening and brought you a glass of brandy. 

She had a look in her eye that told you Tommy must have mentioned what happened. She didnt say anything but mentioned she was in the room next door if you needed anything. 

Then the unthinkable, but somehow expected happened. Noah pushed your bedroom door open. He pointed to the bed and you nodded at him. 

“Will you freak out if I lay beside you?” 

“No.” You whispered back. He got into bed and you immediately made things indecent by moving up against his body. Feeling him close put the fears of him leaving at bay. 

“I’m worried you’ll break up with me.” You said softly, you were surprised you got the words out so clearly. 

“Definitely not going anywhere. As for the physical stuff, lots of time to figure it out.” 

“I don’t want you to think- like you know that I - just - erm - it’s just sort of complicated but - I do, I do want you.” Your chest closed up and swallowed in on itself like a black hole.  

“Woah, you have a thing for me? This whole time I thought we were just good friends.” He ran a hand through his hair blowing out a large breath. You swatted at him, wanting him to be serious. “I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered before kissing your temple. 

“I will figure it out.” 

“I know you will.” 

_______________________________________________

The next morning there was a severed hand tied to the gate. Johnny Dogs brought it up to the house and you caught a glimpse of the frozen hand before your dad redirected you and Noah to the downstairs to distract the children. 

“Why would they -” 

“It’s a warning, they know we are here and that they are coming,” Noah answered accepting another picture drawn by your little cousin Elena. “Thank you, darling.” He said giving her a pat on the shoulder. “It’s really good.” She looked up at him in adoration before running back to the coffee table to start on another one. 

You sunk into the couch next to him. You could feel he was tense, eyes scanning the room’s windows and doors periodically. You made up the excuse of needing the bathroom and dashed up to your room. 

Deep down you knew it was pointless, no one was going to come close enough to use it. Not to mention people used guns these days. But tucked in between your mattresses there was a large dagger. John and Esme had got it for you from a trip they took to the Highlands. You tied its case to your hip and pulled your long skirt over it. It was unnecessary but it calmed your nerves knowing you had something. 

You were on your way down the steps when Esme caught your arm. Her hair was more frazzled than usual and her eyes were wide. 

“Take Lizzie, round the kids up, and stay in the cellar.” You went back upstairs and told Lizzie. She moved very quickly, her house coat billowing behind her. She and Noah helped wrangle all the kids into the cellar. It was cold and slightly damp, but the adrenaline running through you kept you together. 

You did a head count and realized someone was missing. Elena was not here. 

“I’ll go back to grab Elena, stay here.” You told Noah who was about to protest. “I know where the rest of the hiding spots are if we can't make it back here. Just stay put.” You slipped out of the door and dashed down the hall before Lizzie could get involved. You ran downstairs looking for her everywhere. Then came back up and checked the kitchen. You were about to leave when you caught her in the corner of your eye. She was outside. 

You saw her red wool dress toddling towards a man standing at the edge of the woods. You opened the back door and felt the man's dark eyes land on you. The sounds of machine guns firing became unavoidable and you took a deep breath. 

“Elena” You called out to her thankful your voice didn’t shake. She turned around to look and you. “Come here.” She moved towards you and you got on your knee and whispered to her.

“Noah needs you in the cellar. Tell him I’m fine, that I’m hiding. Don’t stop for anyone or anything he really needs to see you.” Her little eyes lit up and she made a dash towards the house. 

You stood up and sized up your opponent. 

“Come have a walk with me.” He had a gun in his hand and you knew that it was your only option, but that didnt mean you would show it. With your head held high, you went with him. Once close enough you could see him properly. He was tall and had a large hat that shadowed his sunken face. “You want to save your family? Yes?” He had a slight accent. 

“Yeah, that’d be alright.” You said back casually, his eyes sparkled with curiosity. 

“Well, your father has something I want. You're going to help me get it.” 

“Alright.” You motioned for him to lead the way. You assumed you were a hostage, not a bad position really. He saw value in you, therefore he wouldn't kill you right away. You waited until he tucked his gun away, He took a few steps towards the forest turning his back on you. You quickly took out the dagger tucked into the top of your skirt and held it tightly. 

“The thing about your family -” Much to your relief he started his big story giving you a bit of time. Quickly to catch him off guard, you charged towards him, sending the dagger right under his left rib cage. 

________________________________________________________

Elena’s voice called on the other side of the door. Noah opened it while Finn was ready with his gun. The little girl ran in quickly hugging onto his legs. 

“She said you needed to see me.” 

“Where is she Elena,” He asked her while picking her up. She hugged onto his shoulders. “She said she's alright, she’s hiding.”

Panic shot through him and Finn quickly put a hand on his shoulder. 

“She knows where to hide here, she’s probably fine.” His jaw was tight as was the grip on his arm. Lizzie sniffed and suddenly got up. Noah looked around and did the math. Finn was most likely right, you sent Elena along and had to hide somewhere else. Going after you could put you in more danger, and it would leave Lizzie and the kids one man down. He knew that would only piss you off. 

He didn’t like it but it was a gamble he had to take. 

“She’s alright Lizzie. She mentioned earlier if she got separated she had a few places she would hide.” He lied, and Finn gave him a slight nod. Elena stayed attached to him so he held on to her and tucked the gun he was given into his waistband. Down here it was painfully silent as Lizzie kept the kids comfortable. 

“Hey, did your dad ever tell you about the time he, Tommy, and my dad got into a fight with a bear?” The kid's eyes all lit up and he sat down on a barrel and started to tell the story about the bear in the pub. 

________________________________________________________

The knife pierced his lanky body and a gasp left his mouth. Your hand slipped into his jacket quickly and you grabbed his gun. 

“You -” He said starting up again and you shot him, in the back, straight in the chest. The man's body crumpled. 

Faces of your father and the priest started to swim in your head. Anxiety ripped through you as the blood seeped into the white snow. Flipping him over you grabbed his wallet. 

“Luca Changretta” You whispered. Well, that wasn’t so bad. You looked down at the man's dark eyes and something inside you lessened. There were plenty of bad men in the world but now there was one less. You did that. 

You thought of the hand-tied to the gate and let out a sigh. If that’s how these people did things, that’s just what you would have to do. You pulled your dagger out and your hands got coated in thick blood. Moving the knife to his throat you started hacking and carving away. 

It surprised you how rubbery everything was, in your mind the stupid thing would just tople off. As you worked your mind tried to argue that this was a horrible thing you had done. But something in the pit of your stomach reminded you what horrible men were capable of. Maybe God's sense of humor is what allowed the dagger to pierce his flesh. 

Eventually, you were covered in blood and you had a head to gift back to the Italians. You ran in the snow down the hill along the side of the house. The front yard was a complete mess. The snow was red, everything was red. Your mind swam but you kept moving forward, those were your men getting shot at. 

You could see that they had made a sort of barricade and the Italians were making it down the driveway. Unsure of what to do you waited for the silence as they reloaded and let out a loud wolf whistle. You held the head up high and a roar of shouts erupted from both sides. 

Before you could take another step a large bear-like figure tackled you down from the side. You instinctively used the dagger's handle to smash into its face before your arm got caught by a massive hand.

It was Alfie, in a big fur coat, looking very pissed. 

“Sorry, Mr. Solomons” You whispered weakly, hoping you hadn't hit him too hard. 

“You're just like your father - fucking troublemaker.” He grumbled keeping his body over yours as bullets rang out. “Take his head and run down the hill. Not go in through the back door, come out the front door, and give the head to us? Eh?” 

“No class with you people. Straight savagery every time.” he continued to chatter on and it was nice to have something distracting you. The snow was deep enough that if they didnt move they were probably out of vision. He moved up slightly to look over the snow. 

“Looks like you gave them the distraction they needed though, chasing them down the drive.” He let out a rumbling sigh. 

“So, you were going to run down the hill causing a distraction?” You asked him, he looked down at you and narrowed his eyes. 

“That’s business between me and your father.” He said in a low voice. There was a long silence and Alfie still kept you there. Your teeth started to chatter and you realized your hand was still fisted in Luca’s black hair. 

“Nah, don’t start thinking about it. I don’t know how you did it but wait for a glass of whiskey. Trust me you'll be alright.” 

You gave him a nod hoping he wasn't angry. Then your father pulled him off of you and picked you up. He crushed you against himself  and you wondered how he could still carry you despite your size. You closed your eyes not ready to deal with everything yet. 

He got you onto the couch in his study and tried to take the head away from you. It took you a long moment to realize you could let go now. You took a deep breath untangling your fingers. Tommy’s hands ran over you before a loud scream erupted. Esme was there with a look of horror on her face. Polly soon followed. 

Various questions were flying around you their hands trying to push your hair back and get the blood off your face. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled eyes locked on Tommy. “His body was too big to drag in the snow.” It seemed significant to apologize as you got blood all over the sofa. 

“Eh, knew that knife was a good gift,” John mumbled picking the knife up off the sofa beside you.

“Hacked his head off, all by herself. They grow up so fast.” Arthur boomed looking at you with pride in his eyes. Esme gave them both a murderous look and suddenly they followed Alfie out of the study. 

Polly locked eyes with Tommy who was kneeling directly in front of you. After one last look, he gave her a nod. He squeezed your hand and stood up. Polly and Esme led you up the stairs and guided you into your parent’s bathroom. It was larger than yours, but the blood smearing all over the white tiles made your stomach flutter. They sat you down on the lid of the toilet. 

The warm air stung your skin and your lungs. When the door pushed open you felt your body get swallowed up in hot guilt. Lizzie looked positively feral. Her arms wrapped around you, your mind thawed out and tears started to form.

After a long while, she took a few deep breaths before helping you into a bath. First, you showered with warm-ish water to get the blood off and to get your limbs back to a normal temperature. By that point, Polly had come back with her arms full of herbs and oils. 

You sat in the bathtub and she poured various things over you. The scent stung your eyes but you felt your heart lurch then become lighter somehow.  

“How are the kids? Noah?” You finally whispered. 

“Surprisingly, only a few minor injuries in the men, and everyone in the house was fine,” Esme answered while Lizzie gazed at the tiles on the wall. Her hand was on her belly and you could tell by the set in her jaw she was angry with Thomas. 

_______________________________________________

Once you were cleaned up Lizzie got you tucked into your bed. 

“I told everyone you need to rest. We can deal with everything in the morning.” She kissed your forehead and ran a hand through your hair. She left and the sadness and anger that radiated off of her brought in a fresh wave of uncertainty and anxiety. 

Tommy came in a short while after. He sat on the edge of your bed looking into the fire. 

“You have any questions or things bothering you?” He asked in a faraway voice. 

“No, I feel a bit better honestly.” You sighed and his gaze flicked to you. “Spent a lot of time running from men like that. Now I don’t feel so helpless. Plus I think that was the last of the past coming back for you. Alfie didn’t sell you out. Things on my side are looking pretty good.” 

He gave you a hard look and then nodded. You knew he was dreading talking to Lizzie. 

“Dad, I shouldn't have landed that blow. It was beyond lucky, I think it was just what was supposed to happen. Elena had been lost, he was going to snatch her up, probably in exchange for John. I sent her back and he was happier with me anyway. The whole thing was lucky.” He took in what you were saying and you knew he didnt know how to respond. 

“Please make her understand it wasn't your fault, If you could blame anyone blame Elena for wanting snacks from the kitchen, but she’s five, and me and Esme will fight you.” You took a few breaths but it was getting hard to breathe again. “She’s got to understand, all of us need to stick together.” Tommy put down his glass of whiskey on your side table and put his hands on your shoulders. “That’s why everything worked out all right - it’s because we stuck together- if you guys break up-” You couldn't talk anymore, your body got light and heavy at the same time, and your vision started to get blurry. 

“Stop.” He commanded and you took a deep breath. “It will take a lot more than Lizzie’s anger to tear us apart. Trust me, I don't give up that easy.” 

You nodded and he pushed you down into your bed. You curled up on your side holding his hand. 

“It’s like with the storm, I needed to face this.”

He gave you a nod and kissed the top of your forehead. “Drink this if you can’t sleep.” He left his whiskey on the side table. “Come get me if you need anything.” 

With that, he got up and left your door slightly ajar. 

______________________________________________________________

He didn’t like what he did next. But he knew it would keep your mind off of things and put the boy out of his misery. He knocked on the door and waited for Noah to respond. 

He opened the door and could see that he had been pacing, much like himself. 

“She’s alright, bit fragile though.” He said watching the boy muster up the courage to ask the question Tommy knew he was struggling with. “If you wouldn't mind staying with her, I think it might help.” Tommy saw the boy light up but quickly composed himself. 

“I could do that.” He said calmly. 

“No messing around.” He said sternly before giving the boy a nod and leaving the room to go fight some more battles. 

Lizzie was rummaging through her closet and Tommy realized this was probably a lot worse than he realized. He sat on the edge of the bed waiting for her to start up when he heard her give a shout. 

“Stupid fucking -” He saw her trying to reach a box high on the shelf. Part of him wanted to leave it there, so she couldn't pack it, and maybe it would prevent her from trying to leave. He sighed looking up at the box. 

“You're a lot of things- short is one of them” She bit out crossing her arms. He pulled the stool out of the corner and he grabbed the box for her. She accepted the box and started rummaging through the folded clothes. “She could have died.” 

“I know.” 

“That’s it, you know, and what!?” 

“And she didn’t. She saved Elena. She outsmarted Luca and tried to protect her family. I’m not happy about it, but I am grateful she’s alright.” 

“Thomas - she's 17 - it was a blood bath, in no way is she alright.” Lizzie snapped. 

“She said she needed to face this, she’s run from men like that her whole life. I don’t like it, I feel like I failed her every time she opens up about her past, when she was there covered in blood, I knew I failed her. But you leaving right now will be what kills her.” He knew it was underhanded and mean. 

“Leaving?!” Her eyes narrowed and Tommy was grateful that the box didnt have anything hard or dangerous in it. She threw a yellow nightgown at him. “YOU THINK AFTER EVERYTHING I WOULD LEAVE HER HERE WITH YOU.” She started to rage and she almost tripped over another pile of clothes on the closet floor. He stedied her and shut the door hoping it concealed some of the anger. 

She held on to him and tried to catch her breath. 

“Well, your tearing the closet apart, I thought -” 

“You, as always, thought wrong, stupid man.” She kept her slender fingers gripping his shoulder and he wondered what was going to happen next. Tears started to fall down her cheeks. “I’m too fat.” 

Tommy was glad he rarely smiled or laughed, in that moment he knew that either of those things would have been a deadly mistake. 

“I can’t fit my nightgowns anymore, the maternity ones I have remind me of Ruby.” Her voice broke and he pulled her into his arms. They stood like that for a long while. He ran his hand up and down her back, realizing if not for Ruby, he may never have been this lucky and blessed in his life. In the end, he was very sure that it was always Lizzie. She fought him every step of the way, but at the same time that also meant she chose him every single time. 

He guided her to the bed and pulled out one of his long sleep shirts. It was broad and baggy, and would easily cover her frame and the ever-growing bump, long enough for him to order her some new maternity gowns. She let him undress her, then slid the cotton shirt over her head. 

“I am sorry - for everything.” 

“I know you are.” She said softly. “Thank you, for keeping the family safe.” He didnt know how to respond to that so he gave her a kiss. They settled into bed and he turned the lights out. For a moment he thought he might finally drift to sleep when Lizzie opened her mouth. 

“So the bear in the pub huh?” Tommy let out a groan.

“Where did you hear about that?” 

“Noah, he told the kids the story to keep them quiet. He’s really good with children, I think if Elena was a bit old she would try to challenge her for him.” 

“Fucking boy.” Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose wondering why out of all the other 17-year-olds on the planet you had to pick that one. 

_________________________________

You closed your eyes and felt good that there was nothing but darkness. No men, no blood, just an empty void. It only lasted a few moments before you heard Lizzie's muffled shouting. Your stomach rolled and you opened your eyes to look around your bedroom. The fire gave everything an inviting glow, it truly felt like your piece of the world. The thought of it being torn apart made you want to cry. 

A soft tap at the door made you jump. You poked your head out of your blankets to see Noah. He forgot himself for a moment and dashed towards you. He wrapped you up into his arms and you fell back against the bed. You had a moment of initial shock before you sought out his mouth. You kissed him hard, and you felt his hands stay firmly in place on your back. 

He broke the kiss and stood up moving off the bed. His face was flushed and his hair was a mess of curls. More than anything you wanted him to come back, you wanted his hands all over you. Remembering what it was like pushing him off of yourself to vomit made you calm down a bit. You knew you needed to move slowly, no matter how much you hated it. It wasn't fair to Noah. 

“Sorry - I promised your dad I wouldn't mess around.” He took a deep breath looking at the ceiling. 

“My dad sent you.” Your eyebrows knitted together. 

“Yeah, didnt want you to be alone.” He came back to you and you moved over as he climbed into bed. 

“Actually?” 

“Yeah, he looked really worried. Don’t want to push him any further today.” He said tucking in next to you. Your body felt like it was on fire as he ran a hand through your hair. “Why are their flowers stuck in your hair?” 

“Oh, Polly gave me a bath to make sure I wasn't traumatized or haunted.” 

“Oh yeah.” He gave a nod and you let out a soft laugh at his expression of confusion.

“Guess your family doesn't do that.” 

“No, not really. Lot’s to learn about.” 

“Likewise. Mum said you really helped keep the kids distracted. Thanks for doing that.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I didnt go after you, Finn said you would know where to hide. Isaiah came later and said he thought you were with Polly and Esme” His arms tightened his grip on you and you fought to keep your heart in check. 

“Knowing they were safe with you made it easier to deal with the situation.” 

“It’s over - never again, I’m - I’ll figure out a way to keep you from everything.” 

“What do you mean?” There was an edge to your words. 

“We - I can’t go through that again.” His voice was heavy. “I need to sort out with my dad how to clean things up on our side.” 

“Meaning you want things to be more legal?” The edge had turned to straight panic at the thought of him leaving. 

“Yes, for myself, but also because your dad is right. He fought really hard to get things clean. He even sent your uncles to prison once. I won’t take you back into that place. All of them would come after you. Won’t bring everything he built toppling down. Not when you could get hurt” 

His face finally looked down to meet yours. He must have seen the anxiety eating you. 

“What I’m saying is, I want to do good things with my life, and I want to build you something good too. Because - I - I love you.” You started up at him in disbelief. 

“I love you too.” You breathed. 

It took a long time to fall asleep, but eventually, you drifted off in his arms. At some point, the morning began as light poured in through your windows. Esme poked her face in and you met her eyes. She gave you a thumbs-up and a wink before shutting the door. 

You relised then that the rain was thundering on the roof. A sadness filled your chest, but insdead of dealing with it, you pressed your face against his neck and went back to sleep.

#closing walls and ticking clocks #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #Peaky blinders fan fic #luca changretta #alfie solomons #noah solomons

[peakyswritings]

And as Luca looked at her, he was almost a normal man. In the reflection of her dark eyes, he wasn’t Changretta, the ruthless mafioso who had butchered and killed more men than he could count on his hands. He was just Luca. A love so strong that even he felt like could be redeemed. A love so pure it could wash away the blood that stained his hands.

Moodboard made for @justrainandcoffee ‘s blog-birthday. Aveline Young is an OC and belongs to her.

Flor, I hope you enjoy this little gift I made for you. Ever since I started reading about Aveline, she made her way into my heart and I just had to do a little something for her and Luca🤍

#peaky blinders fics #luca changretta x oc #aveline young #luca x aveline

[justrainandcoffee]

Their love will never be. And yet Luca can't stop staring at her. And yet, Aveline's heart beats fast when she's next to him. Because love is blind.

The singer and the gangster in love in a racist world.

Here's the fic

#i want to write this fic #peaky blinders #luca changretta #luca x oc #poc!oc #aveline young #luca changretta x oc

[evita-shelby]

The Knife

Cw: miscarriage, death, haunting, ghosts, murder, angst

Luca has been the Don of the Black Hand since that winter when he finished the last of the Shelbys off in the name of Vendetta.

Eva’s last pregnancy ended the same as the first began and she knew one day it would be her husband’s blood that stains her hands for all that he does. Sooner or later, karma would find them and take them to hell with their victims.

Time passes, her love for Luca proving to be weaker than the guilt she feels for what he did, for what they did.

She killed them as much as he did, Tommy, Arthur and Lizzie had been her kills. She had orchestrated their deaths even if Luca took the credit.

And now he would do the same to the Sabini clan.

“You look magnificent as always, maga.” Luca kissed her cheek, and she fought the revulsion she felt. He reeked of death now, it was there mingled with his cologne and aftershave.

It had not affected her so much in 1925, not when she was willing to walk into hell with him in the name of love. Then she had let it fuel her anger at God for taking their last baby.

But then the ghosts came, children of varying ages all with Shelby Blue eyes. They hid behind corners, in their room and always stood there covered in blood from their bullet wounds.

It got so terrible that Eva had taken up her old habits and let Brilliant Chang introduce her to opium, so much opium she’d nearly died in 1929 when the stock market crashed, and they barely survived the fall.

Eva had healed enough to pretend all was fine, even Luca had no idea that she longer felt as in love with him as before. He remained as he always had, loving and generous and utterly bewitched by her.

It is 1940, Leonardo turns eighteen and announced his engagement to Aurora ---who knows to fear Luca if she does not know why---before he is sent to train for the British Army. They hadn’t wanted him to, but the little boy who wanted to be the Don of New York and later the Don of London now wanted to be anything but his father’s son.

He wanted to be a swashbuckling hero or die before he became his father.

“I cannot look shabby at Leo’s engagement party, not when it falls on my favorite holiday of the year.” The witch said swallowing the guilt she feels for what she will do.

“Is Sabini getting a knife?” Luca asks with a smirk, remembering what happened last year.

“Yes.” Their guest of honor had been marked for death, he had not received a knife and was dragged behind a car until he was unrecognizable.

Even her parties have been corrupted by him, and she let him out of the love they had.

This time it is Luca who will not receive the knife.

When the party favors are revealed, he laughs thinking it is all a joke and she laughs too as she bites back the tears that slip and the pain she feels for having to do this.

Perhaps she still loves him, too much history and life were shared for it all to have died that night she tried to overdose at the opium den. Perhaps that is why she is choosing to die with him instead of telling him the Germans will bomb here tonight and everyone except them two will be home.

#luca changretta x eva smith #luca changretta x oc #juli's ides of march #incantatrice fic #evacore

[kai-n-ali]

Chapter Nine of In The Fields of Asphodel (My Regrets Follow You to the Grave) is out!

Chapter 9: Hemlock (You'll Be the Death of Me)

Eleanor Blum didn’t know what to think of this man, this Peaky Blinder devil that made all of Small Heath cower before him, this almost-stranger with his dead wife and dead stare, but she wished he’d stop showing up at the flower shop she worked in. And that he’d stop looking at her with those blue eyes of his.

Follows aftermath of Season 03 throughout Season 04. Tommy x OFC.

Warnings: Depictions of child abuse, antisemitism towards OFC, canon-typical violence, canonical deaths, sexual themes, etc.

#tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy x oc #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #lizzie stark #may carleton #jessie eden #alfie solomons #arthur shelby #luca changretta #bisexuality #polly gray #michael grey #ada thorne #ada shelby

[mlmxreader]

Busted | Luca Changretta x gn!reader

@king-trash-cryptid asked: "Youre a fucking idiot" with luca changretta?

summary: Luca’s got a temper on him, and that means you sometimes have to patch him up. 

tws: minor injuries, bruising, blood, swearing, smoking 

word count: 782

Luca was in trouble again, as per usual, as his temper had gotten the better of him and he had been involved in a fight with a group that belonged to a rival mob; he was badly bruised and beaten, his lip split open and a black eye, a couple of broken ribs and cuts all over his hands and arms, but he was more worried about the fact that his tailored and expensive silk shirt had been ruined by the blood and dirt stains more than anything else. He was more worried about his fucking clothes, and when he got to your place, he was beyond pissed about that goddamn shirt being ruined; even when you sat him down at the kitchen table, and pulled a chair close, one of his legs between both of yours as you took the shirt off of him and chucked it onto the table so that you could examine his wounds. 

“They busted you up pretty good,” you sighed, a frown on your lips as you tutted softly, at least the cuts weren’t too deep, but you could see a little bit of the deeper layers of tissue, not enough that it was massively worrying, though. “You’re gonna need stitches, baby.” 

Luca scoffed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, irritated that it wouldn’t go back into place and was a ragged and scruffy mess. “Stitches? Really?”

You nodded, daring to meet his gaze. He looked pissed, and you rolled your eyes. “What the fuck were you thinking, Changretta?”

“Mio orsacchiotto, please,” he grumbled. “Scream at me later.” 

“No!” You scoffed, moving to straddle his lap as you shook your head, careful not to agitate his ribs as you placed your hands on the back of the chair either side of his head. “Luca, you’re a fucking idiot - as much as I love you, you are a fucking cunt and an idiot when you wanna be.” 

Luca didn’t want to, it hurt too much when he did, but he couldn’t fight back the smile as he looked up at you, raising a brow. “You’re really that pissed?”

“Yeah, I am,” you nodded. “Because you’ve fucked off, gotten yourself into a fight, and you fucking-” 

You got off of his lap, a grunt of disgust coming from you as you paced around the kitchen, grabbing various bottles and cloths and tape and scissors and chucking them on the table; you were still annoyed as you rolled yourself a cigarette and lit it up, shaking your head when you looked at him. 

“Caro,” Luca called softly, smirking when you actually looked at him and didn’t shake your head. “It was just a little scrap.” 

“You’re a fool,” you huffed. “A fucking idiot and a fool.” 

He chuckled, nodding as he leaned back in the chair and leaned his head against the back of it, looking at you sideways as he hummed quietly; all these years, and you were still there patching him up. All these years as your boyfriend, and he was still looking at you as if you were the best looking person in the world, knowing that your annoyance and irritation came from fear and anxiety and would melt away the second that he was patched up and safe; all these years, and you still loved him as much as he did you. 

“Ti amo con tutto il cuore.” 

“Oh, fuck off with that shit,” you laughed, finishing your cigarette and sitting back opposite him, you grabbed the bottle of stuff you needed to clean the wounds, and put it on one of the cloths. “Dick.” 

Immediately, Luca knew that it was all going to be alright, he knew that you would forgive him soon enough; he leaned forward, and gently kissed your forehead when you started to clean out the wounds on his hands, holding back a wince and trying not to seethe as the stinging sensation tore through him. He was better at hiding it when he knew that you were the one cleaning the wounds. Between each stage, he would kiss your forehead, and when you pulled back, he pulled you in so that he could kiss your lips. 

“Forgive me?”

You shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”

He dared to laugh as he nodded. “Still pissed?”

“Not as much,” you admitted. “But don’t you fucking dare do that again - don’t you fucking dare go getting yourself in goddamn… I don’t even know what to call it!” 

Luca grinned and ran a hand through his hair again, able to feel the bandages grace against his scalp in such a light way that it made him itch. “Si signore.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - do not just leave a "like", REBLOG IT. you may also leave feedback in the form of asks, tags, etc which is greatly appreciated, but you SHOULD reblog it regardless.

#mlem writes #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta one shot #luca changretta #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x yn #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders luca #luca peaky blinders #peaky blinders #bbc peaky blinders

[rysko]

Peaky Blinders Request Rules/Information

Hiya! I'm opening requests because i feel like it's a cool opportunity to write between my main stories, as well as interact with the fandom more!(Yall are the coolest i swear) Feel free to send an ask with your request if the following rules are okay by you <3

This is also my first time in years that i've done this so bear with me xD

Characters: When it comes to PB, i don't have any no/no's when it comes to writing characters. No matter how niche the character, my brain-rotten ass will analyse them to pieces and try my best to write them. Though, if you know me in any way, i'm especially brainrotten about: Luca Changretta, Alfie Solomons, Tommy Shelby and Arthur Shelby, so requests with them will probably be written faster!

Relationships: Character x readers are fine, and i'm comfortable writing for any gender. Character x Character is cool as well, if the ship has a dynamic, i'll try my best!

Dark fics: YES! I love them.

Smut: I'm not very good at smut imho, so for now, it'll be a no from me, sorry!

HC's/ '[blank] with [blank] would include' type fics: YES!!!

AU's?: I love au's, if you want me to write one, give me as much info as you want, or just give me an au idea and i'll try my best :>

I feel like i covered the most important things, if i missed anything, let me know and i'll answer/add to this post. If i won't be able to fulfill a request, i'll be sure to let you know.

See ya in the AskBox!

#Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #Peaky Blinders x y/n #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Arthur Shelby fanfic #Luca Changretta fanfic #John Shelby fanfic #Alfie Solomons fanfic #Michael Gray fanfic #Polly Gray fanfic #Ada Shelby fanfic #Lizzie Stark fanfic #fic requests

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - A Luca Changretta/OC Story.

Okay, okay! I got the message quite clearly that just a few of you are more than a wee bit excited for this, so regardless of the poll results, ya bestie over here is giving you the first chapter. Everybody gather round and meet Emily Jane. She shyly says hi.

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,224

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Brooklyn, 1923. It was a dangerous place to be in certain areas of the New York borough, where bullets fell like rain and crimson bled plentifully into the gutters. Its misdeeds were becoming famous, the mob swelling like a well-fed beast, prowling the streets unleashed, snarling and hungry. In Brooklyn, the mafia were the kings, whether you, your mother, your cousin or the cops liked it or not.  

It was generally advised that you did not protest.  

Wiseguy compliance was safer than the alternative, and everybody knew it. When they came knocking, offering fistfuls of dollars to store barrels mostly containing contraband beer, gin and whiskey within the warehouses of legitimate businesses, the proprietors knew that you either said yes or you died. That money you were so generously handed would be earned back, though.  

“So look, uh, you gonna be lookin’ after this cargo for us, right? That means there are gonna be certain guys on the street who ain’t gonna be too pleased about you working with us. So, what I’m gonna do is have a few of my guys lookin’ out for ya. Fifty bucks a week and nothin’ happens to your business, or your family.” 

The story was the same for any other business within the radius of their turf, racketeering forced upon you whether you guarded contraband alcohol for them or not.  

It was generally advised that you paid them the fifty bucks.  

Of course, when it came to the families going to war with one another, there was nobody there to protect you, whether you paid into a protection racket or didn't. If the police were called, they generally – and purposefully - arrived too late, the large wedges of cash stuffed into their back pockets by whichever mob crew were buying their compliance ensuring that.

No, when the gunfire erupted and turned the silent streets into a bloodied cacophony, you knew there was only one thing to do.  

It was generally advised that you duck.  

On that particular chilly November night, though, with the threat of snow hanging heavy in the air from the thickened clouds above, one young woman opted not to duck. Instead, she chose to walk right out into the carnage, for it was perhaps the only avenue she could tentatively tread upon in order to save herself from hell.  

The Changretta’s and the Calabrese's had been at war with one another over turf for months, disputes rife over what mob presided over which area, promises of blood come good after negotiations had failed, leading to the shootout between both crews in the dead of night.

Bullets peppered the air, tattooing the buildings and cars along the street, screams and shouts only just about audible over the thrum of heavy machine gun fire, men diving and dying left and right. The sins they fought and died for knew no difference, but somewhere in the madness, these men of bloodthirsty savagery had a line they would not ever cross.  

The Changretta mob scanned the desolate street, high alert agitating their blood, neurons firing rapidly as they watched the area, looking, waiting for movement. The enemy had been thinned to what appeared to be nothing, their bodies littering the ground, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more lying in wait.  

Luca’s unblinking eyes toured the darkness, daring to slowly rise from his concealed place behind the front wing of a shot-out Ford, each step crunching the shattered glass beneath his feet. Nothing. They’d accomplished the extermination mission sufficiently, not a single Calabrese goon left breathing.  

“Boss! On your left!” 

At his right hand’s call, Luca spun, directing his gun at what his eyes picked out through the inky night, a glowing light splitting the dark, his men beginning to fire.  

“Stop, fuckin’ guns down, now!” he bellowed, his cadence rising sharply, way above his usual silky, rumbling drawl. “It’s a girl, you dumb fucks.”  

She seemed to glide over the ground, her feet bare, platinum hair matted and tangled, the white lace of her dress torn and bloodied.  

“What the fuck? Is it a trap, or what?”  

Luca turned to view Enzo with a slight shrug, his hand reaching out to grasp his arm when he raised his gun. “Ah, aspetta, aspetta.” At being told to wait, his right hand once again lowered the machine gun, both Italians watching as the girl continued her walk, her eyes wide and dazed, her face bloody, purple welts marking her features. The closer she got, the more of them Luca noticed, angry and swollen upon her pale skin, the infliction of brutality tarnishing much of her body, a body that buckled as she suddenly fell, collapsing in the middle of the street.  

“Ain’t no trap.” Moving out fully, Luca strode through rivers of blood and bullets, removing his long, wool coat, wrapping it over the barely dressed blonde as he crouched at her side. “Hey, what the fuck happened to you, huh?” He gave her cheek a few gentle slaps, trying to rouse her. “You with me? C’mon, wake up.” This truly wasn’t the time or place for damsels in distress. He had himself and his guys to think of before all else.  

Her eyelids fluttered, blinking rapidly a few times as she came to, curling herself smaller. Her mouth opened, and Luca was sure she said something, but her voice was ghostly, so quiet he was scarcely sure she’d spoken at all.  

“What? I can’t hear you.” He leaned closer, craning his ear, just about able this time to hear her words.  

“There’s a bomb under your car. Twenty seconds.”  

With widened eyes, his head spun round to where his assembled crew waited. “Move! The fuckin’ car is live, move!” Pulling her up off the street and into his arms, he and his men began to run, covering the ground rapidly. They’d gotten a good hundred feet away, yet their eardrums still all but ruptured when the TNT blew, reducing the Buick to an inferno.  

They took cover behind another car, a car Enzo rapidly broke open the door of, cranking the engine into life. “Let’s get the fuck outta here, eh?”  

So, it looked to Emily like she was leaving one set of wiseguys and going with another as the tall, slender man who held her jumped into the back of the car, three other guys piling in, the car shuddering out from its spot and being directed in the opposite direction to the blast.  

“Hey boss,” Dante piped up from the passenger seat, nodding at the blonde. “Who’s the dame?” 

“You know as much as I do.” He was just about to ask her that very question, looking down to see her head lolled over his arm, out cold once more. Whatever the fuck she’d been through, he could gauge it was a lot. Giving him the kind of information she had, though, information that had saved him and his crew from being blasted to smithereens, he wasn’t just about to let he be on her way.  

If she knew about the bomb, then what other information might she have? The firefight had not exterminated all of the Calabrese mob, just a mere handful of foot soldiers.  

Exiting the car on the corner of Third Avenue, Luca strode towards the doors of Bella Vita, the bar turned speakeasy he owned, the doormen nodding to him and swinging the doors open. He took an immediate right, the thumping blare of jazz music and patrons having a fabulous time hurting his still fragile, bomb-blasted ears, another large man employed for security purposes opening the next door he came to.  

It closed with a heavy thud behind him, the wall of noise muted, Luca beginning to climb the stairs that led to his spacious apartment. It had only been home for seven months, since he had the former three dwellings gutted out and fashioned into something more resembling the comfort he was accustomed to. High standing members of the mafia did not reside in shabbiness.  

His former abode, a sprawling townhouse upon the Upper West Side of Manhattan, was now solely home to his ex-wife and three children. For a quicker divorce from the wretched, screaming harpy whom he had once loved very dearly, he considered it a cheap price to part with for the sake of his sanity. Her alimony was also eye watering, but it wasn’t like Luca didn’t rake in serious bank.  

He’d also never deprive Milania, Guiseppe and Alessio of anything. His sons were the apple of his eye, and his daughter, well, she was quintessentially daddy’s little girl. He just wished she had a smidgen less of her mother’s hot-headed temper. Then again, he supposed he deserved every ounce of it, not being a particularly good husband to Filomena.  

Well, it was subjective, really. He provided for her, took her out regularly, bought her an abundance of luxuries from expensive jewellery to beautiful furs, but he did have somewhat of a predisposition for sticking his cock where he most certainly should not have stuck it. Filomena had all but turned a blind eye to his philandering ways, and Luca knew that was why he’d continued to do it, because she'd let him. She didn’t care, it seemed, so why should he?  

Maybe if she’d have been the kind of woman to crack his jaw and tell him in no uncertain terms that he was hers and hers alone, he might have fixed up and adhered to the fidelity he’d promised her, but she never had. It went right over his head that this is what he should have pledged without the threat of violence in the first place.   

The final straw finally drove her into action, though, arriving home earlier than he’d expected one day to find him in bed with two whores, one astride his face and the other riding his cock. There weren’t many women out there who could witness the man they loved in that kind of scenario and still continue to love him. She’d given him nothing but pure, unfiltered hell in the time between, Luca agreeing to all of her demands, just as long as she didn’t touch either his car collection, his speakeasy, or his home in the Catskills.  

Carrying the mystery blonde over to the lounge area of the open plan apartment, he placed her down on the dark, oxblood leather chesterfield, noticing that she’d come round again. “You wanna drink, sweetheart?”  

She nodded, beginning to tremble a little. “Hey, you’re alright. I ain’t gonna do nuthin’ bad to ya.” Emily doubted his sincerity, knowing wiseguys as well as she did. His voice was half salty rumble, half viper’s hiss, but each word was delivered with the kind of hush that made her feel soothed, she had to admit. The quietness of his tone made a nice change from being yelled at. “Whaddya drinkin'?” 

“A water, p-please,” she stuttered, Luca nodding. He’d been offering liquor, but water he could do, too.  

He paused before going to fetch it, crouching before her, studying her wounds a little more closely now she was under the brighter lights within his home. “Those cuts are nasty, doll. Who fuckin’ did this, eh?” He reached for her face, regretting it instantly when she shot across the couch, curling into a ball at the opposite end. “Woah, hey. Like I said, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I just wanna help you, and for you to tell me what you know about the Calabrese guys. I’m guessin’ you know a whole lot, to know one of ‘em stuck a bomb beneath my car.”  

She trembled, her eyes wide, her silence profound. “I’m gonna get you that water.” He rose to his feet slowly, knowing he had to treat her as if she were an injured fawn, everything slow and steady, save her from becoming furtherly spooked.  

Caring for another, though, was somewhat beyond his usual skill set. Luckily from his own scrapes, he both knew how – and possessed the necessities - to clean up wounds before they became an infected mess, going to the bathroom and pulling out gauze and a bottle of iodine, returning to the kitchen to fetch her requested glass of water.  

He handed it to her, moving to his drinks cabinet then and pouring himself a large measure of whiskey, returning to sit in front of her on the coffee table. “You gonna let me clean you up?”  

She shook her head, spilling several drops of water as she lifted the glass to her lips, downing it in its entirety.  

He nodded, sucking the matchstick he was chewing before removing it. “Alright. You gonna tell me what you know?” 

Again, she shook her head.  

He shrugged, a little agitated, but knowing he had to play his cards carefully. “I got all night, doll. Could start with your name, though, if the rest is too much to ask.”  

She wanted to trust him. Hell, he could have simply dropped her from his grasp and left her there on the street, but he’d taken her with him, back to the safety of his apartment, no less. Of course, though, it was to gain information. Then again, if it was solely that, why was he trying to help her? Men who sought only answers to their questions seldom had the interest to clean wounds. Hell, they usually jammed a gun to your tonsils and told you to spill all as soon as they removed it.  

Who was she to him that he’d care whether her cuts were bathed? Still, it took him a patient wait of just over a half hour until she finally spoke.  

“Emily Jane,” she finally replied, swallowing hard. “Emily Jane Mortensen. Most people just call me Emily, though.”  

He lifted his chin, pointing to her water glass. “You want another in there, Emily?” 

“Please.”  

Well, she had a name, at least. It was as good a start as any. “You know,” he began, long legs extending as he rose to his feet, walking back over to the kitchen area, “the Calabrese’s won’t do shit to you with me around. If that’s why you’re scared to talk, ain’t no mind, doll.” Returning to her, he resumed his seat upon the coffee table, handing over the glass. “Like I said, though. I got all night.”  

Protection. Something she’d longed for, but could she truly trust it? She knew exactly who he was; Luca Changretta, the big boss, the number one apex predator at the top of the mafia hierarchy. It was either the very best, or the absolute worst place that she could have ended up. “Gino Calabrese ordered Joey, his youngest son to have the bomb planted, so that if the firefight didn’t kill you, the blast definitely would.” 

His eyebrows rose a little, chewing the matchstick slowly. “And you know this how? Who are ya, to Gino?” 

Finishing her water, she reached to place it upon the coffee table, Luca taking it from her, resting his forearms back to his thighs as he leaned forward, looking expectant. “Um, nothing to him, but to his son, I – well, I was his card counter. That’s kinda moot now, though, since you and your guys put about sixteen bullets in his chest.”  

His lip curled slightly. “Card counter?”  

“Yeah. I have a real fast brain for math, so technically I can’t ever be beaten in a game of blackjack. I won Joey thousands upon thousands at games all over, from Vegas to Reno. Illegal games, too. Women don’t usually get a seat at the table, but I got to, because...” 

“Cuz’ Joey boy was partially sighted, I’m guessin’, right? You were his alleged eyes, but truly, you were there to tell him when to make his moves, amirite?” 

God, he was very sharp. “Correct,” she confirmed, although Luca still looked slightly dubious, reaching behind him and grabbing something. He turned back to reveal a deck of cards, sliding them from the box and giving them a rapid shuffle.  

“Show me.” Standing, he moved to sit beside her on the couch, dragging the table nearer and dealing out as he were the house, Emily moving a little nearer.  

“Alright, so I mostly use the Hi-Lo strategy. It means if the ratio of high to low cards is higher than normal, the player can make bets that are larger when the deck is favourable.” 

He noticed it instantly, how when presented with the opportunity to show off her skill, she unwound from the nervous, tense little waif he’d carried into his home just over an hour before. “How’d you know if the deck is favourable?” he asked, a frown knitting between his dark brows as he pointed at them on the table.  

“You have to track the ratio of high to low cards by assigning them with a value. You begin at zero, then as each card comes up, you add it to your tally. Cards two to six have a value of plus one, cards seven to nine have no value, and cards worth ten and also aces have a value of minus one, so you keep adding and subtracting, betting accordingly. Watch. Hit me.”  

He dealt her another card, Emily tapping it. Another was placed. “I’m holding.” Turning the other cards, he saw she would have won her hand had they been playing for cash. He made her do it another five times before he truly believed what she could do, sitting there with slightly widened eyes.  

“Look at that, huh?” he spoke, gathering the cards from the table and returning them to the pile. “No wonder he kept you around.”  

She shrugged. “Shame it wasn’t of my own free will. All of this mess I’m in, it was because I tried to get away from him earlier, so he took a set of brass knuckles to me. Wasn’t the first time either.”  

He studied her face, his jaw tightening. Luca had few codes of honour, and not taking his fists to a woman was high upon that list. He hissed a breath, his eyes narrowing. “Fuckin’ asshole. I’m extra glad I shot the living fuck outta him now.”  

Dropping her gaze, she folded her arms, looking at her bare feet. “So am I.”  

Reaching for his drink, he knocked it back, truly feeling glad that Joey no longer breathed. If there was one thing he truly detested, it was a woman beater. He didn’t have much to be proud of in his life, morally speaking, but he had never and would never raise a hand to a woman. Ever. “Fuckin’ brass knuckles, Jesus above. I know how much those fuckin’ things hurt only too well.” 

She snorted softly, her eyes finding his again, her heart doing a little somersault as she watched the peridot shards glint at her through the low light. Hoo boy, he was a handsome one. Deadly, but handsome nonetheless. “Who on earth is brave enough to take a set of brass knuckles to the famous Luca Changretta, and live to tell the tale?”  

He smirked, rising to his feet. “Nobody these days, but when I was still comin’ up, plenty of guys.” Moving back to the drinks cabinet, he took the bottle of whiskey, turning to her. “You want another water in there, or somethin’ else? I got just about everythin'.”  

Peering at him over the back of the couch, he felt his inside pinch a little. She was so tiny and cute. “Could I have a vodka rocks, please?”  

“You can, but ice I don’t have. Gimme a sec.” He strode across the space again, heading back down the stairs, the sounds of music growing louder and then returning to the dull rumble, Emily moving to pull on the long coat around her, feeling chilly. It smelled of him. The woody, musky, yet slightly spicy notes of whatever cologne he wore filled her nose as she held the soft lapels to her face.  

The sudden blare of music signalled his imminent return, the tall Italian appearing from the stairwell once more, carrying with him an ice bucket he placed upon the table, going back to the cabinet and collecting the whiskey and vodka bottles, pouring a large measure into her glass, dropping the ice in and handing it to her.  

“Thank you,” she spoke, Luca noticing her manners were impeccable, also watching her face as it twisted into a grimace, Emily hissing before straightening her leg, examining her grazed knee.  

He gestured to her injuries with a sweeping hand. “Gonna let me help you with that yet? You’re kinda bleeding all over my couch.” 

In an instant, she looked horrified. “Oh, I’m so sorry, and probably your coat, too. I’m an idiot, I'll sit on the floor.”  

He moved swiftly, shaking his head. “It’s fine, ain’t no bother, doll.” In truth, it was, but he kept that to himself. Blood cleaned off, he had to concede. This girl, he needed to keep her sweet in order to keep on feeding him further information that he sensed she possessed. Joey Calebrese might not have been high up within his criminal family, a street guy who was not yet elevated at the time of his death (and which was why, Luca guessed, he’d used Emily for her card counting skills to make the kind of bank his lower standing didn’t allow for) but being around them, she was bound to know more.  

She was a valuable asset, and he’d treat her as such.  

He picked up the handful of gauze and iodine, moving back to the coffee table. “It’s gonna sting like fuck, but you likely know that.”  

She did. Bracing herself, she clenched her teeth as one by one, Luca dabbed each cut and graze with the iodine-soaked gauze, wincing, hissing at the burning, sharp sting. “Gonna be a little black n’ blue for a while, honey,” he drawled, his mouth tilting into a smile. “Still pretty, though.”  

He winked, and it sent a spark through her, although the rational side of her brain told her that allowing herself to be charmed by a dangerous mobster was the last thing she truly needed right then. He didn’t make it easy, though, being attentive to her, looking as good as he did. She’d always had a thing for older men, and she could guess he likely had at least a decade and a half on her twenty-three years.  

“So, you gotta home I can take you to, people wonderin’ where the fuck you vanished to?”  

Home. It was a word she didn’t really have any true comprehension over, the place that to everyone else acted as a sanctuary, a safe haven, had truly been anything but to her. “No, I don’t.”  

“No port in a storm, huh?” he asked, gently lifting her leg to rest upon his slender thigh, smoothing her dress up a little to reach a cut beneath. His hands were so hot. Yet another spark flared within her belly.  

“No, no port.” She paused, meeting his eyes, knowing he was expecting more. “I’ve no idea who my father was, and my mother was a drunk, still is for all I know. I don’t have any siblings either so when I was eighteen, I left California and made my way across the country to New York. Wanted a better life for myself. It didn’t exactly go to plan. I have a habit of trusting the wrong people.” 

He looked away from her then, eyes flitting to her knee, pressing the gauze onto an open cut. He was definitely a man she shouldn’t have trusted, and he wasn’t entirely sure why that suddenly prickled quite sharply at his conscience, but it did.  

“You probably don’t trust me, but if you wanna crash here until you find your feet, you’re welcome to.”  

She looked at him with big, grey eyes full of hope. “Really, you don’t mind?” 

He sniffed. “Wouldn’t have offered if I did.” Placing the cork back into the iodine bottle, he moved to take a seat beside her again, picking up his drink. “Might be better if you do, actually. The Calabrese’s are likely lookin’ for ya. If you vanished and didn’t wind up as a dead body, and I didn’t get blown up, then it don’t take no genius to work out that you ratted on ‘em.”  

Shit. She hadn’t even considered that. It was a fear Luca was banking on playing upon, and it had worked flawlessly. “S’okay, though, sweetheart. As long as you’re with me, they ain’t gonna touch ya. You’re fine.”  

Was she, though? Emily truly had to wonder. She pondered over it for the rest of the night, Luca telling her she could go take a bath and clean up, loaning her one of his shirts to wear that absolutely buried her, telling her he’d take the couch while she slept in his bed. She tried to protest, but he wouldn’t hear of it. 

“I ain’t exactly a gentleman in a lot of respects, but you ain’t gonna sleep on the couch. Nah. It’s fine.”  

Was it, though? As her tired eyes fluttered, lying in the comfort of a big bed that smelled like her host, she truly did have to wonder.  

#luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta fic #luca changretta #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #nobody's girl #luca and emily #adrien brody

[amazingmaeve]

LUCA CHANGRETTA FIC RECOMMENDATIONS

go like and reblog all these fics because they deserve ALL the praise and love. also go and show your love and support for they deserve it for writing all these beautiful stories, and they took time to write these so they deserve recognition!

slow down ➵ @corpsekiller

summary ➵ Thanks for the reply🥰I was thinking of a first night with Luca as a newly married couple. The reader could be a Shelby sister who was forced to marry him to stop the vendetta, so there’s a bit of bad blood between them and she’s scared I would hurt her, but he proves to be a gentleman.💖

little lamb ➵ @theundercoversquid

summary ➵ Hii!! I love your latest Luca works! I know it’s not original at all, but can you make one where the reader is a Shelby and she’s made to marry Luca to stop the vendetta? She’s still terrified of him because she obviously was on his black list and she’s sure he still resents her family, but he tries to make en effort to reassure her for both their sake. It could be a scene from before or after the wedding, or even the wedding day/night. ❤️❤️

#luca changretta #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta smut #Luca changretta fics #Luca changretta recommendations #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders

[tempestdivine]

One headcanon that came to mind while watching Peaky Blinders is that Luca is asexual or somewhere along the spectrum of being ace.

And this is definitely not because he’s the only antagonist we see not being sexually active and I took that as enough leeway to headcanon him into being asexual, and also personal desperation for ace representation.

His interactions with Polly didn’t really give me enough reason to view him otherwise. If anything, the way Luca is with Polly is more from the show’s aesthetic of characters overall and their portrayal of gangsters’ treatment of women than it being a telltale of Luca’s sexual desire.

#peaky blinders #luca changretta #headcanon #asexual #ace #definitely going to make an ace!Luca Changretta fic

[call-sign-shark]

The Month of Sin

Hey loves,

Something is in the air, can you smell it? October is approaching and what's the best way to celebrate my favorite month with the unleashing of your wildest Peaky Blinders fantasies? This combined with the fact I'd like to train my smut skills resulted in the idea of hosting a kinktober event dedicated to our lovely Peaky Blinders' characters. For the event, I'll be opening my requests.

How to Make a Request:

Send me the name of the character + the prompt in my ask box and I'll write a reader insert for you. I write for all the characters except the creeps like Mosley or Hughes. Also, I know y'all love Tommy and I'll write for him but please, try to give some love to the other characters too. :)

Ideas: Tommy, Arthur, John, Polly, Ada, Michael, Finn, Bonnie, Isaiah, Alfie, Aberama, May, Heaven etc. I also accept OC x Canon so if you wanna send me a request featuring your OC's favorite pairing, feel free.

Rules:

This is mainly smut but if you're really uncomfortable with it and still want me to write something for you, add (vanilla) to your request.

No date limitation. You can ask for any number no matter the date.

There is no limitation on requests one person can ask. Anons are welcome.

One character per prompt. Prompts are listed below.

Prompts list:

1 - Breathe with Tommy 2 - Cut with Alfie 3 - Marked with Finn 4 - After Care with Finn / A Peaky Lady 5 - Rope Bunny with Arthur 6 - Drunk with Tommy 7 - Blindfold with John / Aberama 8 - Creampie with John or Author's choice 9 - Praise with Bonnie 10 - Size with Alfie/ Luca 11 - Power with Michael 12 - Oral with Bonnie 13 - Breeding with Alfie 14 - Blood with Tommy 15 - Tamed with Arthur 16 - Denial with Tommy 17 - Daddy with Michael / Alfie / Aberama / Arthur 18 - Public with John 19 - Threesome with Tommy and Author's choice 20 - Leash & Collar with Arthur and Heaven 21 - Knife with Isaiah 22 - Strip with John 23 - Overstimulation with Tommy 24 - Car with Tommy 25 - Punishment with John 26 - Worship with Changretta and Eva 27 - Begging with Tommy 28 - Corruption with Arthur 29 - Blasphemy with Arthur 30 - Age Gap (surprise dark!fic) with the three brothers

#Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby x reader #John Shelby #John Shelby x Reader #Alfie Solomons #Polly Gray #Michael Gray #Ada SHelby #Finn Shelby #Aberama Gold #Bonnie Gold #Peaky blinders smut #Tommy Shelby smut #Cillian Murphy #Arthur Shelby smut #John Shelby smut

[peakyswritings]

Luca and Eva spending Christmas together

Inspired by @evita-shelby ’s series Incantatrice

Santa’s here!🎅🏻 I made some Christmas-themed moodboard for my mutuals (and you have no idea how hard it’s been to wait until Christmas morning to post them). I hope you like them!

Merry Christmas, Juli🎄 I’m only at the beginning of your series, but I’m so in love with Eva and Luca’s dynamic that I couldn’t help but include them in this small celebration. I hope you like this little gift!

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #luca changretta imagine #peaky blinders moodboard