#luca changretta imagines

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Angel of Birmingham ~ Alfie Solomons x Reader

Summary: Before he meets Tommy Shelby, Alfie gets the pleasant surprise of encountering the lovely Angel of Britain, and from then on, he swears to always protect her from all the dangers of the world.

If she were to ask herself who was the first to call her that - That undeserving nickname - She’d have to guess it might have been Arthur. He always had a way with words without realizing, and it all happened when they were children... More or less, considering she is closer to John’s age than his, and she would patch him up after fights and whatever marks of ‘good behaviour’ he got from playing around.

Seeing how great she was at taking care of him and his brothers, Aunt Polly suggested she tries to become a nurse or something. She saw potential in the little girl. Intelligent, charming, beautiful and pretty damn innocent. She shouldn’t stay too close to their dark side, it may taint her, and neither of the Shelbies wanted to see her upset. She was too much of a ray of sunshine and they desperately clinged to her and her kindness.

In the bleak midwinter.

But the girl was also highly ambitious and she didn’t want to settle with being a simple nurse - No, she wanted more. More and more and more. She was smart, she was greedy and she was a conqueror.

Veni. Vidi. Vici.

Until they received a beating sister with death and they suddenly opened their eyes towards the Godly truth in front of them.

She was going to become the only surgeon in Birmingham and she will succeed without a doubt, despite her young age.

The Shelbies already had connections with some important people so it was easier to deal with uncooperative people who dismissed her for being a woman and didn’t even look at her amazing knowledge and skills.

For a while, she had to be away and work in the London’s hospital as she studied medicine, despite her very young age. She hated being alone from her family and her second family, as she always called the Shelbies, but despite her timid personality, she still made some pretty good friends, albeit with the nurses, as most of the girls didn’t have the right connections and the money to bribe their way so high-up the medical field.

For now, that is. Y/N wanted to change the world. She aimed high and jumped higher. With the right money and influence, things will change. She was sure about that.

It was all going splendid for her, until the First World War began and her three Shelby brothers were enrolled - She was desperate to keep them home, but she knew she couldn’t.

So the next best thing was to go with them.

She was a doctor and they needed war doctors to take care of the wounded, so of course, she was accepted without a second thought.

She had to go to Verdun and to Somme, and she had to see so many people being brutally taken away from life - Bombs, gunshots, wails of anguish and despair, fear, cries, agony and shivers.

If Y/N could describe war with a single word, it would be simply ‘Hell’. 

There was no better word to describe it, without a doubt, and an angel in hell always gets her wings burnt horrifically painfully.

She prayed day and night for her three brothers to be alive and well by the end of all this, at least physically, since mentally, she knows neither of them will be the same, that’s for sure.

And this hell went on for four agonizing years that went by, day after day, at an alarmingly lethargic pace, as if time and space were enclosed into a continuous loop of no return, a dark void from which they will never return.

But they did.

And when they did, they were welcomed with hugs and kisses and lots of love from their families...

Yet they reciprocated with a dead look in their eyes.

They died in War, and this was just a second attempt at living, like a dead man roaming the world again.

The worst that happened was Tommy getting shot during his tunneling, but Y/N made sure he would be treated properly, and yet, there was one thing she couldn’t do, no matter how perfect her healing skills were, and that is to erase their mental and emotional pain and all the nightmares and PTSD they had to suffer from.

She tried to stay strong for them, to smile and be radiant as before, to try to take away some of their unseen pain, to talk to them, to sooth them... God knows they needed it. 

She would crawl in Tommy’s bed at forsaken hours and hold him tightly whenever he’d wake up screaming in fear, afraid that the shovels will breach through the walls and he’d get shot again, and she’d talk to him, reassure him and tell him he’s not there anymore and nothing will get to him again, she will protect him from any danger, and her wings were there to shield him.

She would leap out and hug Arthur from behind, dragging him away from murdering or fatally beating more men who looked at him the wrong way, so he wouldn’t lose control of his mind and body again, and she will shoo everyone away while she holds him and lets him cry out his fear and stress and pain.

And John... Poor John... Ever after being home, he was still in a state of shock, and he was so confused, and would look down at his hands, trying to wash them so much that he got burns and irritation, only to get rid of the ocean of blood that he created by killing hundreds of men, and witnessing a thousand more.

And yet...

There was nobody there for her.

Nobody to hold her down whenever she wanted to lash out into hysterics and tear everyone apart limb from limb. There was nobody there to reassure her that she didn’t fail anyone for not managing to save the man split in ten pieces after falling prey to a bomb. That there was nothing wrong with taking lives as long as you protect your own. There was nobody to reassure her during a nightmare or embrace her protectively whenever she’d flinch, jump or panic from the louder noises or frequent gunshots all over Birmingham.

She needed a change. She was going further down and down, spiraling into the horrible abyss that the bottomless pits of anguish and torment she was succumbing to, and she knew that, no matter how much she’d smile and say ‘I’m alright’, she’d only drown deeper into her darkest despair.

And that’s how she chose to cope with all her pain. Work herself into exhaustion, study, practice, work, learn - Do anything but sleep or stay idle - As long as her mind was preoccupied with different things, there was no way she’d recognize her downwards descend into hell.

Thus, with continuous work, gunshot threatenings and more influence and bribes, she managed to become the Head of the Birmingham hospital, as the only capable surgeon in the city.

But now that she achieved this, she needed something new. She couldn’t fall into platitude, or she’d go insane. She constantly needed stimulation, because if she relaxes, even by a little, she will remember she is a human being with human emotions and that’s when shit will hit the fan hard, and she was afraid that was the point of no return.

So she extended her influence in London, went to conferences, met new people and ironically, the big hospital was close to The Angel and Camden Town and she became sort of an administrator - section chief around, so she could organize every patient and treatment the way she wanted. Everyone reported to her.

She was Britain’s Angel.

Things were going very well for her, she got a lot of money, people loved her, she was neutral with all the gangsters, mafia, police and every normal peasant or royalty - Healing did not discriminate against any social criteria made by the higher ups - And she had a very lovely, small house and a beautiful flower garden, a lovely maid who helped her keep things tidy, a decent car ( although she preferred walking ) and a few dogs to keep her company.

Another day, another struggle to keep on going. Y/N got up, drank her morning tea in peace while listening to the gramophone. She combed her long hair, letting it cascade down her back, completely disregarding the fashion of the Roaring ‘20s, and went to look at her wardrobe. She chose a black turtleneck thin blouse with high-waisted black pants, a pair of leather boots, some accessories and an elegant trench coat which she wore over her shoulders. It was Spring, so it wasn’t truly cold enough to dress warmly, but not hot enough to wear a sundress either.

The most peculiar thing happened while walking to the hospital - She heard a groan of pain from a dark alley and going to investigate, she saw a fair haired man whose white shirt was stained with red.

“Is it yours?” the woman asked him as she carefully stepped in front of him, completely disregarding the two dead bodies from the ground.

“Some o’ it. Most o’ it is theirs, poor fellas.” he tilted his head to the side left and right, almost comically.

“Fairs. Let’s get you to the hospital, I’ll treat your wound. Free of charge, of course. Let the state pay for something for once.” she chuckled lightly, extending her hand for him to take - To accept her proposal.

“Who are you, Miss? I don’t recall ever seein’ you ‘round. A new nurse from the hospital?” he asked as he almost skeptically stepped by her side, following her.

“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry, I forgot my manners. I am Y/N... I’m sort of the head of the hospital nearby. And, uh... I’m a surgeon.” she grinned at him serenely, almost as if to defy and shock him by his previous assumptions.

“A woman doctor, aye? Now that... That’s top. How’d ya do that? I thought they didn’t accept women at University ‘n such.” despite his words, he seemed genuinely interested and wasn’t mocking her.

“Well... Yes, not wrong. And I want to change that. Hmm, how do I explain this without scaring you away... I’m a pretty smart cookie I guess!” her laugh was crystalline and lovely, and if weren’t for the pain from the bullet he took, he would have laughed as well rather mirthfully.

“That you are, lass, I’m sure.” he grunted as he nodded, a bit robotically.

“Ah, we’ve arrived. Before we go in, are you from a mafia gang or something? Some social... Political... Something? It’s not that I care, but I have to put people in different wings for their own good, you know?” she chuckled awkwardly, fidgeting with her fingers a bit.

“I’m not sure I understand, lass.” he raised his eyebrow, analyzing the soft-spoken woman, trying to understand her intentions, whether they were good or bad.

“Well... My hospital accept everyone, you know? But at the same time I don’t think most people want to be rooming with coppers. Or... I know there are some gang wars around... Italians and Jews I think, or something like that. To put some Sabinis and some from Solomons’ gang in the same room, I not only fear for their lives, but also for the good of the rest of the patients and my hospital, you get me? That’s why I at least have to ask. Who knows, maybe I have some of your peers around for you and you can chat and feel better together.” she shrugged at him, feeling a bit uncomfortable being stared like that by him.

“Alright, alright, I get it, lass. Let’s go to the Jews, right? Y’got some o’ those, don’t ya?” he asked, following her as he watched her smile and greet sweetly every person she was walking past.

“Oh yes, of course. Yesterday came a boy called Oliver... Oh, I mean Ollie. He gets upset when I call him by his full name. And there’s this one called David. They said they work for Alfie Solomons, so I put their occupations as bakers. Would you like me to do the same for you as well?” she asked as she hurried inside the room and asked where he would like to stay, and thus preparing the bed.

“Ye even got flowers ‘round ‘ere. This looks more like a home than a hospital if y’ask me.” he chuckled softly as he let himself fall down on the bed, taking off his shoes.

“Oh, yes! Studies show that if patients feel welcomed and are well taken care of, they have higher chances of recovering at a much faster pace. I wanted to test this theory, so I made a contract with the flower shop down town to always bring me flowers. Isn’t that lovely?” she smiled sweetly at him, which rendered the man speechless and in awe.

“Boss, what happened?!” suddenly, Ollie’s worried voice resounded through the room as he leapt from his bed, by the mysterious man’s side.

“Just some dead fish, don’t you worry, lad.” he downplayed his injury as the woman watched the wholesome exchange between those two.

“Oliver - Uh... Ollie, I mean, forgive me. I have to extract the bullet from Mr. Solomons’ body. I will have to ask you to please not worry, I promise to save him, okay?” why was this woman so sweet with everyone? Was that how a doctor should be? Or was she just some exemplary woman?

“...Alright, miss...” the boy muttered, dejected as he watched the woman leave the room, no doubt to get the right equipment for the extraction.

“Honestly, lad, you worry like some maiden. Let the girl do ‘er job.” the Jewish boss chuckled reassuringly at the tall brunet boy.

“She’s no girl, Mr. Solomons. She’s Britain’s Angel. Haven’t you heard o’ her?” Ollie went to sit on the boss’s bed, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“That’s ‘er? Really?” Alfie’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quite understood now why she earned the reputation.

“Aye! She grew up with the Peaky Blinders and their influence and bribes got her into University, but she’s like super smart! I ‘eard they call her Angel or somethin’, especially after her services in the War. Can you believe that?! A woman voluntarily enrolling into war?! That’s insane, who’d want a free ticket to hell?!” Ollie’s voice became a bit higher as he gossiped with his boss.

“Someone who wants to protect her family.” a feminine chuckle broke the conversation as the two Jews snapped their heads towards the entrance, seeing her casually leaning back on the wall, looking at them with an amused expression, mock-reprimanding. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to gossip?”

“Sorry, lass. This one has quite the chatter mouth to him! ‘e just can’t seem to ever shut it!” his over the top gesticulation, among with Ollie’s shocked expression made the girl hide her mouth to laugh as she shook her head and pushed the tray with the needed instruments to Alfie’s bed.

“True. If he didn’t call you Boss, I wouldn’t have known who you were, Mr. Solomons. Now, I would have to ask you to let me unbutton your shirt so I can begin the procedure. It won’t last long, and with the local anaesthesia, you won’t even feel a thing... For the most part, at least.” she chuckled awkwardly as she sat down on his bed, smiling calmly at him.

“Nah, lass, no fancy ana-thingy, I want none o' that. Ain’t gonna get some drugs to put me down. I’ve been through this before in war, right, and ya didn’t have anaesthesia in war either, so that’s that.” as he said those things, he immediately noticed the smile disappearing from her face as a dark look flashed before her eyes that used to sparkle with fake happiness.

“It’s local anaesthesia, it won’t make you sleep. Besides, I used cocaine in war. It still works. Don’t be like that, Alfie. Please.” she seemed to almost desperately want to use that numbing solution for some reason.

“Why do you insist on going against your patient’s wishes, miss doctor?” he challenged her, narrowing her eyes, as if he was trying to peer into her mind.

“I can’t stand people’s raw cries. You heard Ollie. I’ve been to war, but a part of me never returned home. If I can do something to absolve the pain from someone, I’m gonna do it, whether they like it or not.” her dark voice seemed to make a complete 180 from the sweet one from earlier.

“Do you do the same with coppers too, lass?” his light question, as he unbuttoned his shirt, came as a begrudged agreement to her proposition.

“Nah. I just hit them over the head with a bottle of alcohol. Works every time.” her devious, vague smirk made him wonder whether what she was saying was true or not.

“Now that -- I really wanna see that, right. Would’ya call me next time you gotta do that?” Alfie chuckled as he attentively watched her gently wipe the blood from his skin.

“It’s usually a spontaneous decision, really. I get impulsive too, sometimes, you know? I’m not perfect. But, should the time come, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have an audience that would be pleasantly surprised by my act of aggression.” she smiled softly as she carefully administrated the novocain around the area where he got the bullet.

“So where’d ya serve?” he asked, as the girl encouraged him to talk and get his mind away from the procedure.

“Somme and Verdun. I asked to be deployed as close as possible to the Shelbies... I’m sure you got that by what Ollie just told you. Y’know, the tunnels Tommy dug and all that? Wasn’t fun. And you, Alfie? ... Ah, actually, forgive me, I shouldn’t address you so casually without asking for your permission, I got ahead of myself. You can call me by my first name too. I prefer it that way, kinda. It’s more casual and light-hearted.” she chuckled awkwardly - Alfie realized she wasn’t the best at social interactions. He wondered if this was just how she was, or it was a post-war effect.

“No, s’all right, ya can call me Alfie, no problem. I was a Captain in war, right, I was a Captain and I led tons of lads to their death, yeah, but we killed more than we got killed, so that’s that, I guess. Meddled with gas’n’bombs’n shit like that.” Despite trying to keep things light hearted, he noticed the upset look on her face.

“As long as you’re alive, anything is justified.” She muttered, more to herself than to him as she started poking the area under anaesthesia to see if it got numbed down properly.

“Oi, lass, how about I tell you a story, aye? ‘S pretty funny, I reckon.” He suggested, seeing as she smiled softly and nodded at him, putting on her gloves, ready to extract the bullet old-school.

“Sure, Alfie, I’d love that.” She gave him a quick look as he fingers dug inside his wound, making him flinch.

“So, this happened during war, right. My regiment had some nasty Italians around, and they pissed me off so fucking much, yeah. Well, I tell ya, I once carried my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian.” He used one of his hands to gesticulate wildly, as if to keep her engaged in the story whilst he grunted from the discomfort and pain he felt as she rummaged inside his wound.

“Ohh, the Italians. This is going to be a very good story, I’m sure. What did you do?” her smile widened slightly as she felt the bullet shards and started extracting them one by one, putting them on a napkin until they all formed a complete bullet.

“Listen, Y/N. Listen, right. I pulled his face up against the train and shoved a 6 inch nail up his fucking nose and I hammered it on with a duct board, aye.” As he told his story, Y/N had to turn around and slouch a bit, unable to contain her laughter.

“Oh my God, Alfie, that was horrible!” but despite the words used, she just laughter harder.

“It was fucking biblical, lass, I tell ya!” his voice went a bit higher, as he started chuckling as well.

“Okay, okay, say that again, but this time slower. I-I want to imagine – To, to get a better image of this in my head. “ no matter how much she tried to hide her laugh, she couldn’t, which only fueled his wish to amuse her.

“So, this fucking margherita bastard came to me and started throwing around those cross fingered hands back and forth like he wanted th’ gouge my eyes out o’ somethin’. Just! Like! this!” Alfie started aggressively mimicking the Italian hand gestures as the girl had to put down the needle and thread from shaking so much.

“G-Go on!” she encouraged him quickly.

“Yeah, so, listen, I grabbed him by the fucking head, yeah, and I saw this bigass nail, like this big, and shoved it up his nose, y’know, like the fuckin’ Egyptians hooked the brain out through the nose, right, with the mummies and shit.” He had no idea why, but he really enjoyed making her laugh like this.

“I think I’m getting a nose bleed just by imagining this!” she covered her face entirely as she swung left and right from laughing so hard.

“He’s leaning back on the train now, yeah, and he’s hazy like he’s fuckin’ high on pepperoni or some shit, and I see this board just layin’ there on th’ ground, innocently, begging to be used somehow. So I pick it up nicely, yeah, I pick it up and SLAM it into his face. Once. Twice. Thrice. More. Dunno how many times, until I can’t see the nail anymore… But I guess, by then, he didn’t really have much of a face anymore, kinda just became a jam pancake or somethin’.” The girl needed a few minutes of laughter to calm down and wipe her eyes from laughing so hard.

“Oh, Alfie, I haven’t laughed so hard in my entire life. That was wonderful. I-I have no words. I can’t… I can’t… Okay, I’m good now, I’m good. But don’t say more stories, I won’t be able to sew up your wound if I laugh like that again.” She grinned at him, grabbing the needle and thread.

“Fine, lass, fine, I won’t say more stories today. How about you say one, then?” the Jew leader smirked at her with amusement.

“O-Oh, uhm… I-I’m not exactly the funniest person in the world, you know. Actually, I’m not even sure I know what to say. I’m a horrible conversation maker.” She chuckled nervously, as she continued to make knots and stitch the wound.

“Doesn’t matter, anything works, really! I just wanna hear an angel speak.” Mr. Solomons was truly an amiable one.

“Well, alright then, let me think. So, I think you’ve heard already of the Peaky Blinders and how there are quite a few Shelby siblings, yes? Well, they used to have a baby cousin, before he was taken away by some nasty coppers and put in foster care. I was also pretty young back then, but I remember Arthur used to throw baby Michael out of the window repeatedly for either John or me to catch. Mind you, it wasn’t the ground floor.” She chuckled lightly, remembering the stupid kid things they used to do before the war, when life was so simple.

“Really, now?! Poor lad, must’ve grown up with some serious height fear!” Alfie barked a laugh.

“That’s one thing. John put him in a shoe box and kicked him down Watery Lane. Sometimes when cars were passing by too. It was insane, really, growing up with them. But it was fun. If you ignore the copious amount of times we got in trouble and almost died.”  She mused, finishing the procedure and applying some marigold ointment before bandaging the wound properly.

“Thanks, lass, that was quite the experience. Well, I’ll be off then, I won’t bother you anymore, yeah.” He said, trying to get up, only to quickly get pushed down on the bed.

“No! You need to rest and get better, as well as that, you can’t do effort or brusk movements or you risk breaking the stitches.” She explained as he saw worry in her eyes.

“Let’s compromise, alright lass? I’m these guys’ leader, yeah, I’m the leader, so I can’t stay here, I ‘ave to go home’n all that. But I promise you I’ll take it easy and only do office work, yeah, that good? And to thank ya, I’ll even call you by the bakery, how’s that? Nice and warm fresh cookies? How’s that sound?” he asked, as he saw the girl clasp her hands together to her chest.

“Well… Alright then, I can’t really refuse you. But please do be careful. At least let me walk you home or something, I don’t think anyone will attack you if I’m around.”  She muttered, still worried.

“Oi, lass, I am the gentleman here, right, I am, so I should offer to walk you home, not the other way around, aye. Let me walk ya home and tomorrow I’ll come by with cookies.” as he got up, he was ready to button up his messy shirt, but the girl stopped him.

“Alright, Alfie, you win. Let me find you a new shirt, I’m sure we have some around. Before I leave, I have to check up on one of Sabini’s men. It will be pretty short, but I still have to make sure he’s alive and kicking.” The girl offered him a smile as she rushed out to find him a new blouse.

Much to his surprise, she returned rather quickly, even dressed in her normal attire, as when she first came by, and they were ready to leave that wing. However, as soon as they exited the room, the girl was pinned to the wall by none other than Mr. Sabini himself. Alfie was ready to react and throw him off her, but a stopping signal from her did the trick, albeit, he was still confused.

“Mr. Sabini. How many times must I remind you not to greet me in this inappropriate way? I lost count after twenty.” she smiled sarcastically at him as she roughly pushed him off.

“I simply cannot help myself around una fiore cosi bello! You have to understand me, mio angelo, it is your fault for being so beautiful. And how many times have I told you to call me my by name, bella?” The sleazy Italian smirked perverted at her.

“It is inappropriate to display such behaviour with your patients, as well as that, I do not feel comfortable addressing you in any way but the formal one. I will also have to ask you, again, not to use compliments with me, I will not, under any circumstance, accept your courting proposal. Not to mention, you and your men have your own ward at a completely different floor, so I will have to politely ask you to please stop bothering my other patients who have the same rights of being treated as you do.” Her voice was so cold and venomous, as a sword’s edge cutting deep into flesh. Alfie was shocked to see the angelic woman capable of such a demeanour, considering how sweet and shy she was previously when she was laughing so much that she started tearing up.

“But Y/N, amore mio, mio Tesoro, I can give your lovely hospital monthly charity cheques, to fund it, bring you only the latest technology in pharmaceutical and medical stuff! I can buy you anything you want, only say so, and I will bring it to you! I will –“ he continued boasting about his money until he got quickly cut off by the girl.

“Enough. I don’t need your money, Mr. Sabini, I have my own. Not only that, I will also really want to ask you to stop bothering me already. I have to remind you, you have been harassing me for quite a long time now, and I have all the right in the world to choose the patients I’m admitting, considering this is now MY hospital, and if you don’t stop your desperate cry for attention, I will completely eliminate the Sabini ward and divulge all your secrets to the other mafia gangs. And don’t you dare pull out your stupid gun and threaten me, I’m not afraid of you or of death. I already died in war, now I’m just living a second chance. Good bye, Mr. Sabini.” And with that, Y/N turned on her heels, motioning for Alfie and Ollie to follow her as the click of her shoes echoing through the corridors emanated the angry aura around her.

“So you’ve got the same kind o’ personal vendetta against those stupid Italians too, aye?” Alfie chuckled, hoping to lighten up the mood for her.

“Yep. That story from before – I’d do it with Sabini without thinking twice. Or I’ll have you do it, I don’t think I even have the physical strength to pick up a duct board. I have noodle arms.” She let out an amused breath as the Jew looked at her with a smile.

“Ya bet I’ll help ya.” And thus, they arrived in front of her house, being greeted, as usual, by her barking dogs who jumped on her from happiness.

“So… Tomorrow, yes? When should I be expecting you?” she asked, trying to pacify her excited puppies.

“Maybe ‘round noon?” and thus, the agreement stood and the girl waved at him sweetly as she went inside the house, followed by her furry babies. “Y’know what, Ollie? This one is a woman that comes once every thousand years. I dunno how Thomas Shelby could let go of her, but he can’t be as smart as he thinks he is.” Alfie chuckled, nodding to his right hand man to begin walking.

The next day, as expected, Y/N woke up early to make sure nothing is out of place everywhere in the house. Maybe it was her weirdly acting up over-perfectionism, but she couldn’t stand still if something wasn’t where it should have been.

After all, she hasn’t had visitors in… Well, never. It was always her who would visit the Shelby family, but other than that, she would meet up with friends in pubs and clubs, not at home.

Before she knew it, noon arrived and the sound of barking announced Alfie’s arrival. As she opened the house’s door, she noticed he was on the ground, getting loved by all the dogs.

Shocker.

“They say dogs can always tell a good person from a bad one. You passed their test, well done.” She gave him an amused side-smile, leaning on the door frame.

“Anyone who has so many dogs is trustworthy in my books.” He cackled as he got up, walking towards the girl, holding the basket up so the four-legged beasts won’t steal it away.

“I taught them horribly bad. They eat at the table with me, I cook for them more than I cook for myself. And now, look at them, those rascals, they will do anything for food as if they’re famished! Spoiled brats, I’m telling you!” she smiled as she removed the flower vase from the table and poured some tea, aromatic and very nicely smelling.

He admired the tea pot and the matching cups – They were a soft, light blue with painted pink flowers. – Very cute, he thought, and very fitting to her own sweetness. He’s seen so many women affected by the bitterness and anger of having to be unheard, submissive and mistreated, in this ugly, monochrome, wet Britain, so meeting Y/N was like a breath of fresh air, completely different, not afraid of being as sweet and kind as she wants, without implicating herself in any trouble or business and just doing her own stuff.

“Tea, lass? I haven’t had tea in ages, yeah.” He chuckled as he carefully put the plate of still steaming cookies along with some challah bread.

“…Oh. I forgot most people prefer alcohol. Oh My God, I’m so sorry, I don’t have any kind of alcohol in the house-“ she freaked out a bit, only to be stopped by Alfie’s chuckle.

“I’m a tea guy too, lass, don’t worry so much over silly things like that, right? Tea’s fine too. What’s it got?” he asked, easing her worries quickly.

“Vanilla, cinnamon, cherries and a bit too much honey. I like sweet things.” She smiled at him as she raised the tea cup and clinked it to his. “Cheers.”

“Sweet things like you, little lady, love things just as sweet, yeah? Cheers! It’s quite nice, aye, not bad, not bad at all, I think I’ll want more.” He blinked in surprise as he saw the girl immediately get up and pour more tea into his cup.

“Woaw, Alfie, you’ve made these? I’ve never eaten chocolate chip cookies before! They’re amazing! And this bread… It’s so soft and it tastes like honey! If you ever wanted to stop your underground business, you could definitely make a fortune opening up your own bakery! Imagine this… Alfie Solomons, the sweetest man in all Britain, loved by every citizen, earns a Royal Warrant from the Queen for baking the best cookies in the world!” Y/N praised the man as she ate what seemed to be the 4th or 5th cookie by now.

“Bah! Who cares ‘bout that old hag with a crown on her head? If the right person likes it, it’s all that matter, right, nothing else matters to me, and you already like my baking, so that’s that, yeah, that’s just that!” Alfie laughed, making the girl in front of him make a cute kitty smile and look down, her cheeks becoming just a tiny bit rosy.

“Alfie, now you’re just being too nice with me. You don’t have to do that just because I treated you.” She chuckled softly, surprising the man.

“You think I’m being nice to you because o’ that? That’s silly of you, lass, yeah, very silly, that’s not the case in the least, that’s just who I am!” he protested vehemently, his golden chain bracelet clinking softly with each movement.

“So you just like me? Just like that?” her eyes widened in shock.

“Why’re you looking so surprised, lass?” his voice became gradually much calmer and sweeter, seeing the genuine emotions from her.

“Oh, I just… I haven’t heard that in quite a while, I guess that’s why. Apart from the doctor work I do, and all the people thanking me for saving them, I don’t have much social interaction, so someone saying they like me for  my personality, as Y/N, not Britain’s Angel who saved them, is… You know… Unexpected.” She admitted, smiling shyly at him.

“How would you like to hear another story?” it’s true that he wanted to see her so bashful in front of him, but he also loved hearing her laugh, so why not give it a try with one more of his famous stories.

“Oh, I’d love that! You have the best stories, Alfie!” she immediately cheered up, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands oh so cutely.

“Now, now, don’t flatter me, lass, it’ll go to my head, yeah, I’ll get used to you cute words.”  He leaned back on the chair, getting a better look at her.

“That just means I’ll have to say them more often.” Oh, how cheeky, Alfie thought as he grinned at her.

“Right, perfect plan! So, there you go! Tommy Shelby came by recently – Just a few days ago, right – And he, he started being a cheeky bastard with me, so I wanted to teach him a lesson. Got the gun out, cocked it in his face. I said – Look, let’s say I just shot you already, right, in the fucking face, and the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there.” Alfie made a finger gun with one of his hands, pointing it at the smiling girl, and then pointed behind her, where a pretty landscape painting was hanging.

“Oh, Tommy in London? I’m surprised he didn’t tell me anything about coming here, or at least visiting me. What a shame. I’m not surprised by his behaviour though, he’s become a bit of a jerk after the war.” She nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at him to continue.

“Right, it’s a shame, it really is, because that cabinet is fucked. I gotta get rid of it. So, what I do is this, I said. It’s fucking simple, mate.” And thus, he intertwined his fingers together on the table, playfully putting on the intimidating look of his.

“You burn it to splinters?” she tilted her head serenely like a cute puppy.

“Nah, even better. I cut that cabinet in half, don’t I? I do, I’ll just cut the cabinet, I cut… I cut the cabinet literally in half, mate, I said, and threw him a rag to wipe that bleeding nose of his. He was looking at me like a fucking dead body, lass, beaten up and bruised, by Sabini’s men, but still got the cheek to play coy with me on my turf!” Alfie told her the truth, knowing she’d want to know about her old friend.

“Tommy got beaten up by Sabini? What in the world did he do…? That boy never knows when to stop, does he. Anyway, so you cut the cabinet in half. Now what do you do? Throw it in the ocean?” she asked, quickly forgetting about the Shelby boy.

“No! I take half of that cabinet and I put it into a barrel, and take the other half of the cabinet, and all its pieces, and I put that into another barrel.” His hands shifted between left and right to show off imaginary barrels.

“And you fill them up with gun powder and make them explode in your enemy’s factory?” she grinned excitedly at him.

“Gosh, lass, no! But now I hate that you have more imagination than me! But listen – This barrel – I send this barrel off to… Mandalay.” He flapped his left hand around dismissively, making the girl bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. “And the other barrel off to somewhere like… I don’t know…” and he looked deep into Y/N’s eyes, unblinking and trying to come up with a funny city name, as she smiled with expectation for the punchline. “Timbuktu! You ever been?” the line was successfully delivered as the girl had to hang her head down and hide her face in her hands as she burst into laughter.

“Mandalay? Timbuktu? Where the hell are those?” she asked, unable to control herself.

“Fuck if I know, lass, but that’s the best of it! And y’know what? Know what, lass? I saw Tommy Shelby, right? Yeah, I saw him. All gloomy and dark and stuff. But I always thought he’d have a great, big, fucking gold ring in his nose!” Alfie joked around, and the girl was almost afraid she’d faint from laughing so hard.

“Oh, Alfie, you are the funniest man alive. So what did he say, how did he react to that?!” she urged him to continue.

“Nothin’! Nothin’ at all! He was silent as a fucking lake, lass! That Shelby boy has got no funny bone in his fucking body! Can’t even make a joke with him! Shoulda learnt from you, your company is a delight.” He saw Y/N quickly nod in agreement.

“Yeah, that’s right, Tommy has no sense of humour at all! He hasn’t smiled or laughed since the war. He’s changed completely. I know he’s been through a lot, you know? Everyone has. He still has that kind heart, and all he does, he does for his family… But it wouldn’t hurt him to be more genuine with them, or accept the fact that he’s not the only hurt one who can’t get over the war. I mean – I mean John, he’s my age! Got married, has like 4 kids already, married again and he’s still a brat as always! And you, Alfie! You said you were a captain, but you are the greatest person I ever met! He has no excuse for being a jerk. If he had a nose ring, like the bulls have, you could’ve just gotten a hook and tied him to a car and had him paraded around the streets of Camden Town!” she giggled in amusement, roasting her old friend shamelessly.

“Y’know lass, I think you’re as much of a fairy as I am, aye. You look all angelic and pure, but you have a wicked sense of humour!” the girl couldn’t help but let out a mock gasp of hurt and offense.

“Me? Wicked? Never! My, Alfie, you hurt me - How ever in this world could you possibly call me the Devil, when I’m known as Birmingham’s Angel? Recently, Britain’s Angel?” she laughed, almost as though she was making fun of her own nicknames.

“I think I’d much rather hear you being Alfie’s Angel.” Y/N’s smile froze, and her cheeks warmed up instantly, her gaze looking down at the tiny crumbles left behind from the tasty cookies. “Wha’chu say, lass?”

“I... Think I would like that very much, Alfie.” she could barely contain her timid smile.

“Wonderful news, lass!” Alfie merrily got to his feet. “Well then, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, pretty Angel. Don’t forget to serve your little companions their dinner at the table, a’ight?” he bent down slightly to plant a small kiss on her cheek, a little ticklish from his bear, before nodding his head at her, a cheeky smile on his face, and he left, not without all the dogs desperately seeking affection from him.

“Alfie’s Angel, huh? Doesn’t sound half-bad.” Y/N giggles softly to herself, only to hear her maid coming out of nowhere and cheering for her for landing such a good man, though not without warning her not to get into trouble with the very many gangs and their wars. She was a sweet girl, Y/N thought - Perhaps Ollie would like to date a lovely lady like herself.

Many days and weeks, and even months passed, and Alfie visited Miss Y/N daily, never skipping a single day, or missing to bring her the prettiest flowers, and the freshest cookies and bread. He was going to spoil her rotten, that one, and he loved every bit of it, especially the shy look she always had on her face, and the hesitation of accepting so many gifts - He just loved pampering her, what could he do? It was in his nature after all.

And Y/N absolutely loved whenever he’d come over, and each day, with a new story to tell, and new jokes and rumours and gossips - He was an absolute delight, and her dogs loved him perhaps a little bit more than they loved her, at this point. It was no wonder, after all - Alfie started baking food for them! And Y/N thought she spoiled them! 

For once, Y/N stopped feeling the terrifyingly heavy pressure of anguish and torment weighting down on her very soul and being. She didn’t feel the need to work her mind into exhaustion, not tire out her body to the point of fainting asleep. She didn’t need to do any of those anymore, to feel alive and human. She only needed to look at those beautiful eyes of his, and those kissable lips, always forming a mirthful smile; to feel vitality returning into her body, and any sense of fear and anxiety escaping her very being. She remembered what it was like to have a sense of care and possessiveness over her own life, and finally, after so long, she wanted to be free - As free as it could get, unbound by any rule and regulation - To just have fun and thrive in the bliss of romance and happiness.

Once Alfie heard that, he kissed her sweet lips for the first time, admitting to wanting to retreat from the mafia life, and retreat to a calmer area where no one would be searching for him. Margate. A small cottage, cozy and warm, by the sea, where nobody would care to scold them for shooting those noisy seagulls, and Cyril and her dogs could run around aimlessly and run day in and day out, while they spend their time reading and baking and all the cutesy things that couples in love are supposed to do.

Before that, however, a few more things had to happen - Retirement wasn’t an easy process, after all, not in this business, and shrouding yourself into the veil of the unknown was even more difficult a task. People wanted their vengeance, after all, and they’d stop at nothing to achieve it. Nothing, including threatening the beautiful, benevolent Angel who was supposed to have neutral immunity from all kinds of parties. That is what she thought. That is what everyone thought. It was the catalyst of Alfie’s decision to speed up his retirement process and get this done and dealt with already. He never felt as angry as he was now.

It came during a time when Tommy rang Y/N asking for a favour, though rather uncomfortable. Alfie didn’t agree with this at all, he warned Y/N it would be dangerous - Deals with Italians were unpredictable, those bastards, and Sabini was a lecherous fuck who wanted to steal her away - But how could Y/N deny doing a favour to the man who helped her reach such heights though his influence? The man she went to war to protect? The man she took a bullet for? Her brother from another mother?

“Y/N, lass, you’re going to get fried to death if you approach that pasta fucker. I can’t just let you go.” Alfie grumbled worriedly. “And it ain’t just Sabini I’m worried about, love, it’s Changretta too. ‘course, all the fucking pizza fuckers came ‘round to screw things over, but Sabini keeps saying he ain’t working with that other fucker.” he paced nervously around the room, to and fro, fro and to. “Y/N, listen - Listen, a’ight? LIsten. It’s not Sabini I’m worried about, y’know? We’ve been at each other’s throats since school, it ain’t flash news, right -- I can deal with ‘im somehow -- But the other one? I know shit about ‘im. Came over from fucking America, and now he thinks he owns the whole fucking world, that one. And y’know what, hun? ‘e can fuckin’ have it, for all I care. Let Tommy Shelby fight with him. But you --- I’ll be fucking damned before I let him take you away from me.”

“Alfie, sweety, look at me.” Y/N got up from the bed, and approached the frantic man. She cupped his face and brought him into a tender kiss. “There’s no force on earth that can keep me apart from you. Besides! The hospital, remember? Even if Changretta comes over, I will just tell him of the deals, and the treatment and... He won’t hurt me.” without even realising, Alfie’s arms were wrapped around her smaller form, holding her close to his chest, pouting like a clingy child. “Alfie~! Come on, don’t tickle me with your beard! I promise I’ll give you attention all the after this is over, okay? But family is family, and I promised to help out. It won’t take long. And... It’s supposed to be some private party, right? A party with lots of people. He can’t just threaten me in front of everyone, right?”

“I don’t like risky things like this, Y/N. Can’t blame a man in love for worryin’.” He muttered against the skin of her neck. “But better tell Tommy I’m not gonna let him send you do his errands for him anymore, a’ight?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell him.” she couldn’t help her sweet, uncontrollable giggling, all because of him playfully running that trickly yet well kept beard of his over her soft skin.

Just as promised, Y/N dressed in a very pretty dress, making her look like an innocent, sweet flower blooming in Spring, overshadowing all around her with her beauty, thought there was no Tommy Shelby there waiting to escort her at the party. She didn’t think much about it though - She hadn’t a watch at her, so she couldn’t tell whether she was fashionably late or not, and he just went on ahead to do some of his work dealings with his gang friends. It was none of Y/N’s business, she was just supposed to be there as a peacemaker, a mediator, considering she was neutral with all, thanks to her position as the head of the hospital.

She grabbed herself a glass of champagne from a waiter and waited by the sidelines, watching the party unfold, with gorgeous dancers and the orchestra playing songs of all kinds. When a slowed song began, she awkwardly played the wallflower, not wanting to gain any attention to her, but of course, her not so favourite Italian came by, gallantly asking for a dance. Of course, she couldn’t refuse, more or less because she was a diplomat, and despite all the harassment from the past, all of them taking care in the hospital, at a party, it was all fine. Still, she hoped Alfie could have been there - It would have been more bearable.

“A gorgeous lady like yourself shouldn’t be all alone at a party.” Sabini said, making Y/N give a polite smile.

“Well, I was sure Tommy would be busy talking business with you, Mr. Sabini. I’m surprised you’re here, with me.” the man rose a quizzical eyebrow, hearing that.

“My dear, Thomas Shelby never once spoke to me today. In fact, I was not aware he was here at all.” Y/N’s body froze, and their dance stopped.

“What do you mean?” she asked in a whispery voice. “Tommy said he needed me here, as a mediator between the Peaky Blinders and the other gangs of London. If he’s not here -- Why would he ask me to be here?”

“Ah, bella, bella, bella, so your naivite and innocence only makes you more endearing.” he gave a smug smirk. “Luca Changretta asked your dear Tommy, to have a... Pleasant conversation. Negating deals. Business talks... Men talks. Signorina Y/N, he sent you over to receive a message, as he feared for his life, but counted on our long lasting friendship.” his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. Suddenly, she felt terrified for her life.

“I... Don’t want to get involved in your business matters. I don’t do business. I just heal people, that’s all. I wanted to do Tommy a favour, as he is my brother, but I want to have a peaceful life, away from all the gang wars. Please, let me go home, Mr. Sabini. If you want me to send Tommy a message, I will, but I won’t get involved any further than this.” the Italian nodded his head, an almost nasty smirk on his face. 

“By all means, no one wants to hurt you, Signorina. It would be terribly rude of us to kill the messenger... Though Signor Changretta’s father was ruthlessly killed, in front of his wife, for no reason, by your brothers. But us, bella - We, Italians, care for our family above all, and Signor Changretta admires your devotion to your own. He is going to love meeting you.” Y/N slowly removed her hands from the man’s shoulders and offered a small smile, trying to keep her composure. But she was terrified to the core, almost as much as she had been during the war. Not only did Tommy betray her, but he threw her in a pit of vipers... Like a weaponless gladiator, forced to fight a hundred starving lions in the Colosseum. She was a healer, not a fighter! Damn it, Tommy!

“It was a lovely evening, Mr. Sabini. I will be taking my leave now.” with a certain elegant swiftness, Y/N was able to slip past Sabini and hide her presence in the sea of people, trying to make her way to the exit of the grand mansion, only to bump into another man, much taller than Sabini was, and he was towering over her, a passive smile on his face. It was much clear now, the whole place was filled only with Italians. She was trapped.

“Signora, what kind of man was vile enough to make a woman cry? Tell me, please, I will not have such disrespect in my family.” his accent was heavy, and his aura was dangerous, with a mysterious darkness. The stranger rose a hand to cup her cheek and rose her face to wipe the wet, gleaming under eye of the woman.

“Uh... Forgive me, Mr... I didn’t mean to bump into you and disturb you. I... I am not a very sociable person, I don’t do well with crowds. I... Was hoping to return home.” she offered an uncomfortable smile. This man was trouble.

“Don’t worry, bella, I will make sure to discipline my men better.” he nodded, chewing on what looked like a toothpick... Or a match? Was that a match? “You will have to forgive them. Anyway, may I escort you outside and call for a car for you?” something made her feel as though she hadn’t any choice in the matter.

“Y-Yes, please.” she nodded meekly, her voice barely audible from all the noise of the party.

With his arm around her waist, the stranger gentlemanly escorted the lady outside of the mansion, and outside, into the darkness barely illuminated by the lights from inside the house. Were it not for the loud music and all the chattering from the mansion, the graveyard silence would have been entirely ominous, save for the soft cricket and toad melody.

They were all alone.

“Do you wish to kill me, Mr. Changretta?” Y/N asked, frightened out of her mind.

“Kill you? Oh, Signora, no, no, why in the world would I wish to harm an beautiful lady like yourself?” he let out a sardonic chuckle. “Sabini tells me they call you the Angel of Britain. May I call you... Angelica?” Y/N didn’t answer. “Have I frightened you so, bella? Mi dispiace, it wasn’t my intention.” though, based on the sarcastic slur of his words, he was having his fun tormenting her.

“Mr. Sabini said you wished me to deliver Tommy a message. What is it?” the woman asked, holding her hands together tightly.

“Ah, yes, of course. Very brave of Mr. Shelby, sending his dear sister to do his dirty work. How shameful. You see, bella, we never put our ladies in danger. Sabini especially says he’s taken a liking to you for quite some good years. I can see perfectly well why. I’ve never seen a woman beautiful and intelligent such as yourself.” Luca’s hand found itself caressing her face, his long fingers reaching up to her hair, strong her long velvety hair. “I love how you defy this decade’s fashion, though you manage to look more elegant than most.” he kept complimenting her.

“Mr. Changretta, please... I am already dating a man, and we are soon going to move in together. I would appreciate it dearly if you would not continue your courting, though I am very flattered that one like yourself would find me attractive.” the man looked up at the sky, a dry smile on his face, watching how the lady tried to step backwards every time he inched forwards, only to end up with her back flush against a tree.

“Somehow, I don’t quite believe that. You are far too terrified from the simplest gesture. Admit it, Signora, you’ve never been with a man before, have you?” his smirk only widened watching her face burning with a sweet blush. “You needn’t say any word, your body betrays you.” he chuckled, getting uncomfortably close to her. “I hate making ladies cry. My mamma taught me better than this. She taught me to respect and cherish women, for they are a treasure - And I agree. I will not hard you, Signora Y/N. But perhaps you need to be reminded of the importance you play in this gang war... And maybe even remind your dear brother, as he seems to have forgotten about you and how much you worth. Would he react at all, if I were to laugh in his face and tell him I’ve claimed you? Will he even get angry, if I tell him I killed you? Thomas Shelby finds himself to be rather the undefeatable businessman and politician, but from our latest interaction, I say, he’s a man as much as any other, and he has easily exploitable weaknesses. It is really too bad you had to get caught in the middle of all this. I bear you no ill will, Angelica.” he leaned his face closer and closer to her own, to the point of feeling his warm breath on her skin - She tried to move away, though he fixed her head, cupping her cheeks forcefully. He truly just wanted to steal a little kiss, nothing more! He wanted to get a taste of her pink, plump lips that looked like the softest rose petals, bathing in shiny morning dew.

Instead, the loud, resounding sound of a gunshot made the man close his eyes in anger, whilst Y/N squeaked in fear, trying to fall to the ground and defend herself; an awful habit she couldn’t break even after the war was over. Luca used the woman as a shield, one hand buried in her hair, the other, holding a pistol to her temple.

From the paved street the soft sound of a cane was heard, as Alfie Solomons appeared, looking all dressed for a party. He looked alone. Was it him who shot, or was it another? Surely, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come by all alone, even if it was to rescue Y/N - And if he did, it only meant her worth was a hundred times more than he expected. Was he the man she mentioned just previously?

“Ah, Mr. Solomons, what an unexpected surprise. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Luca Changretta.” the Italian smirked, chewing on that match, approaching his face to touch his cheek to Y/N’s. 

“Oh, yeah, I know who you are. You are a bit of a failure, aren’t you? You come all the way over here, to this country, yeah, in order to kill Tommy Shelby - But, I mean, well - He’s not dead, is he?” Alfie smiled fakely at the Italian, forcing himself not to look at the whimpering look of his beloved.

“He would have been, were he not saved by Angelica over here. But he cowarded out, didn’t he? Can’t even have a conversation with someone who hides behind his sister’s skirts.” Changretta sneered mockingly.

“That’s it. I’ll tell you what, right? I didn’t want to come ‘ere, in your home, without a gift, yeah? It woulda been rude - And Jews are known for their hospitality, of course. Here - It’s free. A souvenir.” Alfie rose a single bottle of his rum, showing he was unarmed. “Now, why don’t you let go of that lady over there, and we say our goodbyes?”

Changretta smirked darkly at him. “Signora, why don’t you take the bottle and have a sip? Rum is sweet, for women. Men prefer dry, strong gin.” with trembling hands, Y/N extended her arms to get the bottle from Alfie. It was almost excruciatingly painful, being so close to his protective arms, yet so very far away... “Go on, Angelica, take a sip.” Alfie frowned, watching Y/N’s face contort slightly - She didn’t drink alcohol, she hated it. Even if rum was sweeter than most alcohols, it still wasn’t anywhere close to her sweet teas with too much honey in them.

“This clown wants me to run his shit rum into New York.” Changretta let out a dry laugh, insulting the Jew in Italian.

“Damn fucking straight, mate, otherwise you wouldn’t still be thieving my oxygen and patience, would you? Because I have 200 barrels a month, yeah, cleared by your people, distributed through your teamsters.” Alfie continued with the straight business deal.

“Didn’t you just hear me? People want gin these days.” Luca repeated.

“I heard you wanted to come over with a proposition for me. I hate waiting, yeah - So, that’s why I came over, to quicken things up a bit, before they get stale, right. I already know what you want. I just want to hear you say it out loud so I can check how ridiculous it is.” Alfie inched closer to the two, not once breaking his overly dramatic mannerism.

“Ah, bella, what will I do, I am losing my patience with him.” Luca shook his head in disdain, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Based on the twitch of his enemy’s eye, he had hurried over with a half-baked plan. No doubt, Thomas Shelby must have gone over to him to search for an ally in him. To come in the enemy’s den for a woman - Alfie Solomons was a suicidal maniac. “There is gonna be a little fight, a boxing match, between your boy and Tommy Shelby’s boy, and the whole Shelby family is gonna be there.” Alfie hummed, already knowing all this. “And you, Mr. Solomons, you too will be there.” Luca started stroking a lock of Y/N’s hair, intentionally taunting the Jew. “You know, they say you’re a smart guy. You already know what we want before we say it. That’s funny because I believe I know what you want even before you say it. Yeah. You want the girl back, that’s why you’re here. Maybe for the barrels too. But the girl... Yes, I get why you’d want her back. Can’t miss out on claiming a treasure like her.” he pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering and going down, towards her ear, whispering a small threat and softly slipping the sleeve of her dress a little down her shoulder with the barrel of his gun, revealing flawless skin, before leaning down her neck, and to her bare shoulder. Y/N tried to struggle away from him, whimpering from the uncomfortable fear she was feeling, and how violated she felt by the Italian, but the tight grip on her hair only brought out a whimper of pain and disgust from her.

If someone could look deep into Alfie’s eyes, they could see a wrathful fire raging inside his soul. He wanted to make pasta sauce from that fucker for daring touch his sweet lady and making tormenting her so. He had to play his cards well, feign ignorance and uncare, otherwise, he was afraid that wop will be taking Y/N as a bargaining chip and blackmail him, to the point that not even Tommy Shelby playing God would be able to save the sweet lady. “I want some cash too. Don’t worry, ‘cause I’ve broken it down here.” from the pocket of his coat, he took out a neatly folded paper. “A list of costs pertaining to the assassination of a dear friend, all right?” from his other pocket, he took out his glasses, putting them on as he read the terms and conditions to their deal. “Now, a normal dispatch, well, it’s, you know, 500 pounds cost, but you’re going to have to have to add another 100 to that because Tommy Shelby, like me, is from an oppressed people... And... I need you to put another tonne on top of that because his brother is a fucking animal and he will come after me.” Alfie kept reading, frowning every so often at the inconveniences he was listing. “And then you will need to put another 100 on top of that, because, well, you’re a fucking wop, mate, hmmm?” Changretta remained speechless, looking at the mess of a Jew who found himself hilarious, messing with him. “And then... We have to deal with the ugly business of which I’ve been incredibly clear of, before I’ll need another 500 pounds, because, like I stated, Tommy Shelby is a very, very good friend of mine.” though he wished to wring his neck for throwing Y/N in danger like that. “And... Another 500 pounds for threatening my wife. And 500 more pounds for making her cry.” Alfie folded back the paper, handing it to his enemy. “Total is down there, in black and white. All right? Crack on.”

“Mr. Solomons, I’m gonna be very fucking clear with you. I don’t need you to kill anybody. I have people that I trust, okay? So you are gonna take my boys and you are gonna bring them to the ring as seconds.” Alfie frowned at the Italian.

“Well, in order to qualify as my seconds, right, they would first have to qualify as being Jewish, yeah? And in order to do that, they would have to replace their natural Italian fucking arrogance with a Jewish air of absolute certainty. You see, my good friend, Tommy Shelby, he will know the difference.” he warned the unbothered Italian don.

“You see, these days, back in the old country, a lot of the, uh.... You know, the Jewish people, they, uh... They are having to pass themselves off as Italian.” Changretta chuckled menacingly. 

“All right, well, you’ll have to add another ton onto your bill - For being a cunt, mate.” Alfie refuted with a chilling calm. “All right?”

Luca looked away briefly. “You will bring my men to Birmingham?”

Alfie nodded his head, hoping his crazy humour was acting as reassurance for his lady. “You will circumcise them?” Luca was mute. “Yeah, you will have to circumcise them. Because the Peakys will check, yeah?”

“If they’re going to have their pretty doctor check, surely, she wouldn’t quite know the difference, would she?” the Italian jabbed at the Jew, who was imagining different ways of torturing this fucker.

“Don’t bother your little wop brain over what my wife does. She won’t be there.”  Luca smirked, knowing very well his uppercut landed perfectly.

“Okay. Any other requests?” he asked, laxing his grip on her hair. “Two hundred fucking barrels, we have a deal.” Alfie frowned, looking at him with disinterest. “What’s the matter? I said we have a deal.”

“Eh, you just made a deal without a negotiation, didn’t you?” Alfie stared him down. Luca affirmed that statement. “Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you, wasn’t he?” then, for the first time, Y/N heard the man speak in his own, native language. “You plan to kill us all.” though she didn’t quite understand what he said, the look in his eyes was enough to give her a good guess. Still, with the deal in place, Luca Changretta smirked in triumph, and with one last gesture of condescence, he forced Y/N into a deep kiss, before pushing her towards the Jew. “Sogni d’oro, mia bella Angelica.”

Alfie instinctively lunged forward, catching and gathering his lady into a tight embrace and watching carefully as Changretta stepped inside the mansion. He could feel Y/N’s soft trembles of her small body as she cried in soft whimpers - She was trying desperately to stay composed, but after everything she’d gone through, he couldn’t blame her. That margherita fucker must have creeped her to hell and back. “It’s okay, darling, cry as much as you need. I’m here, love, I’m here, okay? Alfie’s here, and I’m not gonna let go of you again.” she felt so warm, so safe in his large arms. “Let’s go home, yeah? No more of this gang shit. I’ve done over my plans, and we’re leaving faster. I’m not gonna let any of this fuckers even look at you ever again.” he massaged and stroked the back of her head, where that jerk hurt her, and he kissed her forehead and her cheeks and even her nose, before guiding her to the car, with Ollie driving them to the comfort of her own home, with her many dogs, and a shit ton of guards all around.

Y/N couldn’t say anything, and when they got home, Alfie had her maid draw her a warm bath so she could relax. He made sure to put a nice vinyl on the gramophone, and had Ollie return to their house to bring the emergency cookies for comfort, whilst he continued to internally curse Thomas.

He wasn’t sure how long she calmed down in the bath, with her maid comforting and chatting with her to get her mind off of the anguish she was put through, but when she returned, she was wearing one of her beautiful silk nightgown that barely went down to her knees, and she let herself plop on the bed, cuddling into his arms like a kitten seeking warmth. “How did you know?” her soft voice asked as he pulled them to lay down, stroking her hair and her face dearly, occasionally planting kisses and calling her sweet things. When Ollie finally came back with the cookies, her maid had brewed the sweetest tea in existence for them.

“Well, I always did pride myself with having good intuition, you know, but when Tommy came by my bakery, I realised - Shit, my sweet lady’s in trouble.” Alfie spoke, watching her cringe softly at the mention of the Shelby. “Asked him what the hell he was doin’ over at my place, instead of being there with you, and he said - Who would hurt you? Sabini wouldn’t, surely. There’s no person with more immunity than you, right?” he mimicked the man. “Thought I was gonna lose my mind, hun, hearing that. I was this close to beating him to death, yeah, nobody dares touch my sweet girl after all. He said some things about those fucking greasy wops, and it got me thinking - I already knew things were going to shit, and very fast, right, and I knew I had to make our exit as swift as possible - But when I heard you were all alone, with a bunch of sleazy fucks, my mind went crazy.” he gesticulated dramatically, before pinching her cheek playfully. “I promised Tommy Shelby a beating at some point, and I managed to land one good punch on him before coming to my darling’s rescue. Glad I got there just in time, but fuck, I’m so pissed - So fucking pissed you had to go through all that. I should’ve never let you go. Should’ve trusted my gut.” he grumbled, clearly angry at himself.

“Alfie.” she had an upset, pouting look on her face. “I’m sorry I let him kiss me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off.” she hung her head in shame. “If you hadn’t come when you did... I fear what he’d have done.”

“Y/N, lass, what the hell are you apologising for?!” he exclaimed, his hands immediately going to raise her face gently to look at him. “As if a weaponless woman could fight a grown ass man with a gun. If anything, I should be the one to apologise for not being fucking able to protect you as a man should. I thought playing the wife card, and the extra billing, would get that cheapskate fucker let go of you already. Fucking cunt. He’ll pay, I’ll make sure of that.”

But Y/N frantically shook her head. “I don’t care about that, Alfie. I don’t want revenge, and I don’t care what happens to any gangs, okay? I’m sorry, Alfie, I’m sorry I- I’m selfish, okay? I don’t want to do this anymore. I just - I can’t. I really can’t, you know? Always in the middle of danger, always in the middle of war -- I just want to go live out a happy, peaceful life, with you, and our dogs, and a shit load of seagulls to shoot whenever they wake us up with that annoying screech of theirs. And then -- Then, I wanna go have a good travel, maybe. Let’s -- Let’s go to the mountains, I heard it’s fun hiking. The forests are very pretty too. We can hide away from everyone, we’ve got enough money, don’t we - And if you wanted to, I told you, you can open up your own real bakery, and live perfectly comfortable with those earnings. Anything - Anything, just to get the hell out of this God-forsaken, war-riddled, decrepit, barren city, and away from this awful, exploiting people who care for nothing but their damn fucking business.” the way her eyes were gleaming with both hope and desperation shattered Alfie’s heart. “Can we do that, Alfie? Please, can we do that? Just the two of us -- Maybe Ollie and Annie too, if they wanna - And our dogs too - Just us, a nice, big family.”

Alfie’s very soul felt honeyed from her words of love, and her wish of staying together with him - And it was tempting too, taking Ollie and her maid with them, he had to admit. They would finally be living the god damn peaceful fucking life that they deserved. He had been dreaming during the day, and during the night, of a life spent together with her, all away from this shit city, away from the shit gang wars and what nots. He was exhausted, he wanted to let his guard down for once, and he knew he could do that with Y/N. He wanted to provide her a beautiful, comfortable life, a peaceful once - She’s never been to the beach, and he really wanted to show Margate to her. Just them, and the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore, walking barefoot into the wet sand and playing in the water.

Perhaps it was a little close for comfort to both France and London too - Maybe some day, they could go further north, further away from the capital. Perhaps they can even change their names, take on new identities, retire completely. Sure, he’ll still be taking care of his Jewish community, but he would stop the mafia dealings - Let the younger generations get themselves in trouble a hundred thousand times per minute, he was completely done for.

“Yeah, my little cookie, we can do that, and we’ll fucking do it, and very soon, yeah? Very soon, I promise you that. I’ll keep you safe, and comfortable, and happy. First, in Margate, and if we get bored, wherever the hell we want, a’ight? With Ollie and Annie if they wanna join, and with our spoiled dogs, ‘course.” he leaned in, capturing her lips into a sweet kiss.

“Alfie?” she called his name, her cheeks flustering lightly, unable to meet his eyes, despite the beautiful smile on her face.

“Yeah, meyn ketsele?” Y/N always blushed so hard whenever he’d call her his little kitten.

“Is the... Erhm... Wifey spot still open? I’d like to apply.” Alfie couldn’t help but start laughing mirthfully at her bashfulness, only to pull her into a loving embrace, peppering her face with kisses all over.

“Ikh hob dikh shtark lib - I’d love nothing more than to be your husband.” Y/N felt faint from all the suffocating love and affection she was receiving all at once, but she couldn’t help but melt to the sound of Alfie speaking in his native language, saying that he loves her so much, that she was the love of his life and what more. It was almost funny, how quickly he became smitten beyond repair for her, but he simply couldn’t help it. Women like her only came about once every thousands of years, and he was just so happy, just by seeing that shy smile of hers, or waking up to her in his arms. How could he ever let her go? 

Y/N wasn’t Birmingham’s Angel anymore, and like hell was she Britain’s Angel. She wasn’t an angel, she was a little wicked fairy, the sweetest lady there was, and any other overdosing sugary sweet and entirely embarrassing term of love that Alfie could ultimately generate from the top of his head, just to see her adorable blush, but by hell, he was feeling trapped and addicted to her magic, and he was never going to let go of his darling honey bunch lady.

And Alfie was going to make her the happiest woman alive, and their wedding was gonna be fucking biblical.

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada thorne #polly shelby #michael gray #luca changretta #darby sabini

[theundercoversquid]

Little Lamb PT2

Pairing:  Luca Changretta x Reader

Summary: Maybe Luca wasnt the butcher, maybe he was the savour

Warnings: I saw the request from @birdyman-momon at 11:54 p.m., and by 12:33, it had been written and formatted! So I hope it is good and that you enjoy it! For some strange reason, the inspiration hit, and I couldn't not write it! (I am publishing this before I have the opportunity to talk myself out of it!)

Part 1: Little Lamb

Masterlist

If someone had told you three years ago on your wedding day what your future held for you, you would have scoffed at them. There was no way that being married off to Luca Changretta would be a good thing for you. No, you would have laughed and said that your family had signed you off to a life of mystery. You would have told them that your family had thrown you to the wolves. That you were a Lamb sent to slaughter.

But no, you would be wrong. Getting married to Luca Changretta would be one of the best things that had ever happened to you. On your wedding night, Luca never even touched you. The closest he ever got was to drape his jacket around your shoulders.

He never forced you to do anything that you were comfortable with. He let you lead at your own pace. Doing things how you wanted to do them.

The day after your wedding, he took you on a date. Showering you with gifts and his attention.

As if he could sense your apprehension, he did nothing to make you uncomfortable. You could tell that he wanted to return home to New York, but he did not pressure you to do so.

So when, 6 months after being married, you told him that you wanted to go home to New York with him, his face practically split in half from the grin.

His accent was thick as he told you about all the things that he wanted to do with you and all the places that he wanted to show you. You could feel his excitement catching on, and soon, you could feel yourself smiling along with him.

And well, going to New York would be something that you would never regret. The moment the ship left the harbour, you felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulder. You were no longer a Shelby. You were a Changretta, and you knew that Luca would never make you do anything you didn't want to do. He would never do to you what your family had done to you.

So when he carried you over the threshold of your new home, you gave yourself up to him in the most primal way. Bearing your body and soul for him. You let him see all the ugly bits and all the beautiful bits, and never once did he flinch.

Life only got better from there. You settled into life in New York. Surrounded by people who loved and appreciated you. The air and the atmosphere suited you far better than the coal-infested air of Birmingham. A place you vowed never to return to as you cut off all contact with your family. While they had given you Luca, they had thrown you to the wolves, knowing that you could be ripped apart.

Life only continued up from there, with you and Luca renewing your vows on the third anniversary of your wedding. So you could both properly celebrate your union, surrounded by happiness and the people that you loved.

Right then, on that day surrounded by a family that loved you, you would have told anybody willing to listen that it was the best day of your life, that there was no way it could get better.

Whilst you may have been right. You were also wrong. As life had much more happened in store for you. Surrounded by your husband and his family. But most importantly. Surround with the love of your husband.

Tag list: @birdyman-momon @miojodetomatin @siriuslyblackonback

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders x y/n #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta x shelby!reader #Luca Changretta #f!reader #x reader #Imagine

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: When starting the vendetta with the Peaky Blinders, Luca Changretta didn't expect you, Arthur's wife, to be the one meeting him. Now that you're facing him, he's determined to make you understand who leads the dance. It's a man's world after all! || Featuring Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 6.7k

TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, drug use, slight allusions to sex, canonical misogyny, quick allusions to domestic abuse, witchcraft (canonical since PB flirts with it sometimes), fluff, Arthur is as fucked up as cute, depictions of slaughter and body horror. The last part of this chapter is a flash forward. What happened will be described in the next chapter.

Notes:

✞ The mentioned character of Aurora, Luca's wife, belonged to @zablife.

✞ The bold sentence Heaven says comes from Lana Del Rey.

✞ This is chapter 15 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Usually, each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The dim glow of luxuriant chandeliers cast their orange light over the bar, their warm hue sublimating the rich notes of aged oak from which the counter had been sculpted. Standing alone on a barstool with your crystal gaze fixed on the swirling depths of your glass of red wine, you relished how the liquid gracefully danced and caught the light in a hypnotizing display of crimson elegance. Smooth as silk, its robe was deprived of lees and hugged your throat at each sip. It had been a while since you hadn't drunk such fine alcohol, and this experiment was almost enough to make you forget the curious glances of some noisy clients. As rare as it was to see a woman drinking by herself at the bar without the company of a gentleman due to the prohibited nature of such actions, no one had dared confront you about the matter yet. The waiter had thought of doing so because it didn't feel right to him but one look at the deadly frost of your eyes had been efficient enough for him to swallow his words and mind his own business. Wise decision, you weren't in the mood to be polite. There had been something off in the way you had stared at him, like a wild cat waiting for its prey to come just a little bit closer to pounce on it. He quickly lowered his gaze and went on with wiping down his glass, definitely not taking the risk of causing a scene. Bringing the expensive glass to your plump lips, you froze mid-movement at the sudden feeling of someone's presence behind your back. So, he came. Your mouth slowly curled in a cold, sardonic smirk. Your special guest didn't bother to greet you. Instead, he simply put his fedora hat on the bar counter right where the corner of your eyes you could see it.

"Isn't it the lady who should play hard to get?" You stated before drowning your sarcasm with a gulp of wine, its complex and refined taste displaying all its flavors on your tongue. So far, it has been one of the few places in which the wine was exquisite. And French, of course.

Swiftly slipping between two barstools, the man sat next to you — all his movements, measured and confident, denoted an indescribable elegance.

"So?" A collected and alluring voice inquired, wasting no time in futile courtesy nor in answering your taunt. He would have been surprised if his men hadn't warned him that you were the kind of woman to never be at a loss for words. Just like the two other harpies of the Shelby clan though.

"So, you spare my husband." You finished your glass and put it back on the wooden counter with a movement that translated both your firmness and determination. If there was one thing he had learned throughout his gangster life it was to pay attention to details. Since the very beginning of his criminal activities, Luca always focused on the way someone moved, especially because body language often said much more about people than words themselves. Contrary to prose, the body never lied, and concerning yours the signals were rather clear: you wouldn't cave in. "Oh, and you also spare Finn but it stands to reason. He's just a kid after all." Your request, spoken with a measured yet Artic calmness, snatched an amused snort from the threatening man. How did you dare bargain with him about who would die and who would live while your place wasn't in men's business? Luca slightly shook his head, disconcerted by the fact that the random wife of an enemy could behave so insolently with him while he could easily end her life with the gun he was hiding under his four-digit price jacket.

"In return for what?" His sharp eyes fixed intently on your dainty frame as he spoke. His expression, usually veiled in stoic composure, betrayed a keen attentiveness that mirrored his interest. Making himself comfortable on the barstool, he withdrew a matchbox from his pocket, its metallic surface catching the muted light. With languid grace, he extracted a match, the small stick cradled between his fingers, and brought it to his lips.

"Tommy Shelby." Your voice resounded like a chilling death knell when you pronounced these syllables nonchalantly as if selling one of your in-laws was nothing but one of the many formalities to retrieve your peaceful life. Such apathy was a bit chilling he reckoned. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he held the match delicately between his teeth. After a while, you eventually condescended to look at the man, your iris meeting the splendid green of his. The same green eyes that squinted a little bit now that they had a clear sight of your doll face, whose cold beauty made him wonder what the hell such a delicate thing like you was doing here, involving herself in the middle of intricating gang wars.

"Well, interesting." He mused, a part of him genuinely excited at the thought of butchering Tommy, the other still intrigued by you and how you contrasted with everything else around. No, how you contrasted with everything he had ever seen in his life. Changretta's features, chiseled and unyielding, remained an inscrutable mask, but beneath the surface, a calculated mind sought to see right through you. His posture exuded a quiet confidence despite your unsettling aura and ghostly appearance, a testament to the years of navigating the treacherous underworld of crimes.

"And why should I trust you?" He asked, going on with his observation of every tiny detail of your face. To be honest, Luca didn't imagine you like this. All he had been told about you was that you were the French harlot Arthur Shelby had married, some kind of bratty young girl who came from nowhere. At first, he was convinced that you would be nothing but boring at worst, or entertaining in your way of begging for your husband's life at best but you were none of these. Now that he was sitting next to you at the bar, discussing as if he hadn't murdered one of the most important people in your life, he found himself enthralled by the pure snow-white color of your long hair. More than your unusual hair color, what had surprised him the most was how your coldness cut with the softness of your physical traits. You felt like a walking paradox to him, your appearance conveying a message at the antithesis of what you truly were.

"Because it's all in my interest to see him dead and cold." You replied with a little shrug. Admittedly, you didn't imagine him like this. Quite the contrary, your mind had created the picture of a rat-faced gangster marked with ugly scars and vicious black eyes by dint of hearing how Arthur talked about him. Yet, here you were, facing a rather attractive gentleman with such atypical traits and a charismatic aura that your eternal coldness was slightly shaken. Men of these kinds were always the most dangerous, you thought with full knowledge of the facts. Luca Changretta was something: as slim as Arthur yet standing taller, his face was adorned with a seductive charm and an aquiline nose which rendered his features even more unique.

"Principessa" He started, sneering. Luca pushed the match to the other corner of his mouth with his tongue one last time before his sly fingers grabbed it to put it in the nearest ashtray. Then, his hand reached for the whisky glass the waiter had just put in front of him, "Allow me to doubt that. You are a Shelby, and I've heard your clan is tightly knitted together. Don't think of me fool enough to believe that a Shelby would want to kill another one." Luca concluded his accusation with a little head tilt as he swallowed his whisky in one go. A small grunt of pleasure escaped from his mouth at the pleasant burn the alcohol left in his trail.

"The only reason I bear the name Shelby is for my husband, not for anyone else. If you aren't aware of it may I suggest that your informants only did half of the job otherwise you should have known that Thomas had been nothing but a bane to my existence from the first day we met."

"A bane? That's not a trivial world to use when talking about your brother-in-law." Changretta's fingers, adorned with sleek rings, tapped against the wooden counter as a clear manifestation of his suspicions.

"Well, he had tried to strangle me, then blamed me for his son's abduction, and also for his brother's death and now he is actively seeking to ruin my marriage. I think "bane" is an appropriate way to call him. Now," You said with a little wave of the hand, "if my offer doesn't stir your interest I'd rather leave." When you shifted your body to stand up, Luca's immense hand gently rested on yours to invite you to sit back. The striking temperature difference between his warm flesh and the iciness of your skin gave him sudden goosebumps. Once you did sit back, his unimpressed mask cracked and moved on to an amused and fascinated smile that danced on his thin lips. It was a heavily murderous speech for such a little thing. If it wasn't for the frost you were made of, you would have made him think of his own more fire-coded wife.

"Let me tell you something. My mother was a very patient woman you know?" He said out of the blue with a softer voice, "I've never heard her raise her voice during all my childhood except once. That was one of the many reasons she was a teacher every kid loved. When she did yell at me I was a kid and I just saw a magnificent creature in my nonna's garden. It was an albino ferret, the most beautiful animal I've ever encountered. Straight out of a fairy tale with fur as pure as freshly fallen snow and little beady eyes as red as precious rubies. Usually, wild animals are skippish but that little fella didn't move away when I approached it. It seemed so quiet and docile that I decided to pet it. And do you know what the ferret did?" Luca leaned over you at his question, his face closer to yours and his smirk stretching in an evil grin, "It bit me. That fucking vermin sunk its sharp teeth into my skin and gave me one nasty bite. I still have the scar carved deep in my flesh up to this day. A bite scar among the gunshots and stab wounds." He paused for a while, his green eyes momentarily dropping to your swollen lips and lingering on the white pearly fangs he could glimpse at when you "tsk" at him. The air suddenly crackled with a palpable tension that thickened with every second flying by. Each of his silences loudly echoed the rising intensity of the moment one of you would snap at the other. But it never happened, and the only thing Luca did was grin even more, his squinted eyes meeting yours again. "Should have known it though, this fucking sausage rat had a twisted something in its red eyes. The same vile and twisted something as you, Amore."

His words, coated with honey but cutting like razor blades, made the corner of your plum lips subtlety curl in a dangerous but brief smirk too at the realization that all the rumors surrounding the Italian were true: he was devilishly clever. Maybe that was why you didn't manage to completely hate him despite his horrible actions. While your dainty body, your small size, and the far-too-seraphic complexions of your face often misled people about the brutality that was coursing through your cursed veins and the sickening void of your coal-black pupils, Luca didn't fall for any of them. Not even the glittery makeup and your big round eyes could make him ignore the creepy murmurs of the underlying Devil living in you. After a brief and uncomfortable silence that seemed to last one awful eternity, you finally parted your lips.

"Let me tell you something too," Your voice was a gentle melody, "Arthur and John should have killed your mother." Each word flowed like a soft breeze, carrying a subtle allure that only enhanced the cruelty of their meaning. Your lack of consideration for potentially hurting his feelings had taken him aback. " But they decided to spare her despite Little King Shelby's ruthless order. They genuinely wanted to do it out of sheer compassion" You pursed your lips and backed up from Luca, rolling your eyes. "Fuckin' idiots, they should have killed her when they had the chance." The mobster quickly moistened his lips, the faint surprised expression on his face vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"His ruthlessness was right." He agreed, "They should have." Luca concluded, yet elaborating an arrangement with you didn’t seem to be his top priority suddenly. The mobster already knew he would grant you your wishes, the idea of having direct access to Tommy was too alluring to resist after all. What he wanted at his precise moment was… Different.   "You know, I don't fear being bitten anymore — the danger is a deliciously wicked part of the job I learned to accept and love. Considering this, Mrs, Shelby" He let his sentence hanged as he offered you the palm of his hand, long and bony fingers waiting for yours. "May I ask for a dance?" His eyes sparkled with an amusement that hinted at a hidden game, a dance of power between you and him. The seductive charm with which he invited you blurred the lines between rivalry and fascination.

"Do we have a deal?" You inquired with one brow raised, just to make sure he had taken notes of your terms.

"A deal for a dance." He slightly wiggled the fingers of his inviting hand. "Plus, you're already dancing with me in your own way."

A discreet and longer inhale escaped from your nostrils as you weighed the pros and cons but still you slipped your hand into his, which enveloped your skin with a tender strength. A little dance couldn't hurt anyone, you thought. Without further ado, Luca led the way to the dance floor as you both snaked in and out through the crowd until you reached a more spacious corner. It was the mafioso who initiated the dance. First, his grip strengthened around you: not to the extent of hurting you of course but definitely enough to make you understand that you were trapped. Then, his arm wrapped around your waist firmly like a snake. "Closer," He instructed and you obliged, taking a step toward him and placing your free upon his shoulder. After he set the rhythm, you started to move to the slow melody the orchestra was playing across the room. As the haunting music enveloped you, you moved in synchronized steps, your bodies entwined in a waltz that displayed outside tenderness while your eyes held a sharp glint of adversaries locked in an unspoken battle.

Come now, dance with me as the song plays.

With each twirl and turn, the odd and gripping tension you shared thickened, just like an intricate tango of conflicting emotions. As soft as the dance had started, it was gradually turning into a visceral yet elegant battlefield where intimidation and seduction engaged in a delicate but fierce fight.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

Your heart leaped in your tight ribcage at a sudden dip, your hair hanging down like a silver cascade, and your gaze set on the golden sculpted ceiling that quickly flashed in front of your eyes before disappearing, replaced by Luca's intense green eyes again.

Down down, dance with me stuck on replay.

"Don't be shy Amore," He cooed with a charming wink before pulling you even closer to him until your body collided with his. You stopped breathing for a short moment, shutting your eyes when you realized that your face was almost nuzzled in the crook of his neck. In that fleeting moment, you relinquished a fraction of your resistance, swept away by the remote yet familiar feeling of letting someone guide you without any need to think— or maybe that was the sweet fragrance of his cologne which pleasantly tingled your nostrils that woke up memories anchored deep within your mind. From the way he moved to how he behaved, from the luxurious place to the languid melody of the piano, everything was bringing you years ago, back in the comforting arms of your first fiance.

And you hated how pleasant it felt. You viscerally hated it.

Both the song's tempo and Luca's steps fastened as he noticed the subtle change in your facial expression, slowly turning your graceful dance into a dizzying and confusing round. His piercing gaze bore into your soul, daring it to reveal its vulnerability. The room seemed to spin around you and yet, you clenched your jaw and forced yourself to maintain an unmoved facade. No. You wouldn't sink into melancholia. Gathering all your willpower, you chased away the panic that crept within you and felt a rush of anger toward Luca for daring to reopen an old wound you tried to heal every day of your life since you left France. And with anger came the end of your self-control.

To hell with Tommy's plan, you could put an end to this exhausting vendetta yourself by killing the infamous Luca Changretta right here, right now.

Guided by your murderous nature, you started to focus on his heartbeat as soon as you regained control of the dance, forcing him to slow down the pace. In a thorough study of his pulse, you could clearly hear the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat resounding in his chest, and even counted how many times it beat in one minute. And the more you listened to it, the more music faded away in the background.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Killing him would be a piece of cake considering the horrific magic that was coursing through your veins, the magic of blood and flesh. All you would have to do was accelerate his pulse until it became too much for his body to bear. In a minute, Luca would drop to the ground, limp and dead. No blood, no fight, just the sudden and inevitable consequences of a heart attack. Quite different from the gruesome and slow death you had wished to inflict upon Tommy the day he had crossed the line.

"You're a great dancer, Miss Shelby." The mobster stated, having no choice but to follow your slower pace. Now you were the one leading the dance, "Did your husband teach you? I must admit that I have all the trouble of the world imagining Arthur Shelby being good at waltzing." He had already trouble imagining how the most rabid of these Gypsy bastards could have pulled you, to be honest. His tastes regarding women might not encompass you but, God, he thought that your place wasn't beside a man like Arthur Shelby since you could easily be a trophy wife for a classy and far more powerful criminal. Or some blue blood, but these were the same except the latter legally robbed people.

"Arthur is far better at dancing than what he seems but it wasn't him who taught me." Your reply was sharper than intended.

Another dip, smoother this time.

"Another man?"

"Yes."

"So you've been married before." It wasn't a question, it was a statement for the mafioso had easily decypher your micro-expressions despite your best efforts to hide them.

"Engaged. We didn't make it to the actual wedding."

Kill him. Kill him now.

The fingers that were resting on his shoulder dug deeper into his jacket as you channeled the gift your mother had passed you the day of your birth. It could have gone unnoticed if you hadn't paid attention but Luca's eyebrows slightly frowned, not understanding why his heart had started racing like that all of sudden.

"That's a shame. And how does one lose a woman like you? If I had been him I would have rather locked you in the house than let you flee." Luca grinned, his charming voice steady but the way he clenched his jaw betrayed the building pain he was feeling in his chest. Men were all the same: too much ego to show that they were in distress.

"Well, that's how he lost a woman like me." No matter the exact nature of the impact your words had on him it did trigger something within his soul. On top of a literal ache in his heart, his wedding ring became suddenly heavier. In the dance's rhythmic embrace, your witchcraft went on with poisoning Luca's very core. Yet, as the enchantment unfolded, an unforeseen consequence took hold. The more you delved into your mystical powers, the more the mobster's pain echoed within your own body in an unexpected symbiosis. Except that it wasn't in the heart you suffered, but in the belly.

The baby.

You backed up from Luca with a movement so quick it looked like you had touched hot-red metal, hence putting an abrupt end to the dance. A discreet growl fell from the man's lips for when the physical contact broke his heart resumed to a normal pace and the pain mysteriously disappeared. As well as yours.

"Enough fun for tonight." You said with hast, and Luca hadn't the quick thinking to keep you from doing so — the odd and unpredictable behavior of his heart was too concerning for him to carry on with this odd meeting.

"Hm. Yeah, don't forget about our deal." He replied, smoothing the fold of his tailored suit before slowly and discreetly pressing the left side of his chest with the palm of his hand.

" And don't forget to send my regards to your wife Aurora, who seems to be exactly a woman like me." You spat one last taunt with the most polite smile you could make before turning your heels and leaving this damn room.

What the hell had just happened?

According to Tommy, everything went perfectly. Satisfied with the outcome of your mission — and genuinely surprised you hadn't fucked up everything by your rebellious attitude or just for the sheer satisfaction of getting under his skin —, the lead pack dog of the Peaky Blinders went on with the Vendetta. Actually, the one who fucked up the whole plan hadn't been you, but rather Tommy himself following the failure of his surprise attack against Luca. He might have killed a few Italians in the process, but his initial target was still alive and in very good health conditions. A flash of anger and frustration coursed through your body when he told the family about it: here you were back to the start, with Luca not willing to give you a second chance and being more enraged than he already was when he came to England. None of it would have happened if you had listened to your instincts and killed him yourself. Served you right for trusting Tommy's plan for once. And for being reluctant to use the monstrous magic nature gave you. But there had also been... Something else. That weird and unplanned pain in your belly when you had used your magic. With all of this, the cherry on the top was probably Tommy's decision to carry on with today's boxing fight despite it being an obviously awful idea but of course, no one listened to you. Why would they? Tommy always knew better. Tommy always won. Tommy this. Tommy that.

You sighed loudly as you walked through the empty corridor, the cacophony of the crowd turning into a hushed noise when you reached the huge squared mirror that was hanging from the wall. There were so many people gathered in the building that accessing the bathroom would have taken both your precious time and your thin tolerance to social events. That was why you decided to look for a mirror or a window further away to add a few late touches to your makeup as well as to rearrange your hair. You had just finished putting another layer of mascara on your Bambi lashes and grabbed your lip gloss when a gravelly and familiar voice resounded in the hallway.

“I went looking for you.” The voice made you instantly relax, its baritone lilt holding the unique power of blowing your troubles away, both the past and the present ones. With one small yet graceful spin, you turned around to meet Arthur’s slim silhouette that was standing in the doorway. His sharp face, usually displaying a strict look, soon turned soft at the sight of you about to apply gloss on your tantalizing lips, “I thought you’d be in here.”

"And you thought right." You replied with an enamored smile. Arthur was quite delighted by the boxing fight, so there was no need to impede his joy with your concerns. Moreover, he was surely the only thing that kept you anchored during this confusing and stressful period.

The gangster approached you with slow steps and his steel blue eyes shone brighter the more he closed the distance between you and him. “I knew it, always seeking quiet places before a party to doll you up and take a deep breath...” He concluded, visibly proud to display his infinite knowledge about his beloved wife, which made you melt. Then, he stopped right in front of you, "Got a lil' something for me angel." Arthur didn't leave you the time to wonder what it was all about for one of his large hands slipped from behind his back and pulled a white Azalea from it, “Look what I’ve found. Almost as beautiful as you, eh?”  The way his face enlightened with the happiest and most genuine smile ever was something you never got bored of. Quite the contrary, it breathed life back into you each time. The ice of your eyes melted at such an endearing gift, turning your frozen traits into a child-like expression with your plump lips forming a silent ‘o’.

“For me? Really? Arthur, you shouldn't have!” You said with an excited but still quieter voice than his booming one. You couldn't believe he found the time to look for you in the middle of tonight's chaos.

"I wanted you to keep a little something with you in case you start panicking eh." He purred, low and gruff voice making his chest rumble. "Are you sure ya don't want me to stay with you?" You preyed the flower from his rough fingers delicately, actively trying not to break its fragile petals, and slipped it in your long silvery mane under your Arthur's tender gaze — he couldn’t help but smirk, enthralled by your beauty just like the first time he had met you, three years ago.

"We already talked about it. Go have fun alright? I'll stay with the women. Moreover, I know Tommy will ask you to stay near him and I'd rather avoid your boring brother, who can't crack a fucking smile for the life of his." You lift yourself on your tip toes to press a kiss on Arthur's jaw. His eyes half-closed at the silky sensation of your lips against his face.

"A very clever move that is. D'ya like the flower? The florist helped me, bet she took pity on me 'cos I looked very lost but she just made me even more confused with all the info she was dumping ay."

A sincere chuckle escaped from your throat at the thought of the lanky and rude gangster standing in the middle of a flower shop with a confused look on his face. Yup, it definitely sounded like something Arthur would do. “So how did you choose the Azalea?” You pondered with innocent curiosity.

“Well, I don't know jackshit about that flower language stuff. I only know roses and you hate ‘em.” He admitted with a smile, cupping your face with his two hands to lay a peck on your nose.  As trivial as this detail was he still remembered it and the mix of attention paired with the significance behind your loathing for roses made you swell with love for him. It came even more surprising considering that you only told him about your dislike for roses once during one of the nightly walks you took around the church days after your first encounter.  "So I just picked the one that made me think about ya the most, love." He admitted, his hands leaving your face to grip you by the hips bluntly as he peppered you with kisses. Another chuckle fell from your mouth at the tickle of his mustache against your skin.

"No, no, you'll ruin my makeup!" You playfully exclaimed. Trying to flee from his mouth, you tilted your head to the side and gave his stubbled cheek a gentle bite.

“Hey! I bring ye a flower and you thank me with a bite? Ye feral little thing!”

You gave him a second one without waiting for him to finish his sentence, "You're the one to blame. You’re so cute I just want to nibble you.” You replied, completely obliterating the remote noise as well as all the concerns you have been mulling over these past few days. Instead of anxiety, you were now possessed by joy and cuteness aggression, “I swear you look stupidly handsome.” You added with a pout, the target of your small bites shifting from his cheek to his sharp jaw. Arthur hummed, his lips sewn shut in a peaceful smile — he didn't even bother to flee from your teeth, "Alright, go find Tommy before I tear your suit apart."

"Wouldn't mind that, little one." His voice became raspier with anticipation. It seemed like your suggestion had already planted the seed of desire in his mind, for he already started pawing at your body. Nevertheless, your hands caught his wrists to keep him from doing so.

"No, no, no. My makeup is perfect and my dress too expensive for you to ruin it now." You reminded him with a soft laugh.

"Fuck me." The gangster complained but still obliged, keeping his hands to himself. However, the light mood was soon eroded by the question he didn't dare to ask you earlier. Caught in the weight of his demand, his smile dropped a little, "Eeer... Before I leave" He paused, "I wanted to ask you somethin'."

"Hm?"

Arthur let out a long sigh and looked for something inside the pocket of his trousers all the while rambling, "That's a rare occasion tonight. I mean, a good boxing fight with the new Gold lad I coach and an upcoming party that might last all night long y'know. A really great program that is. Exhausting too." His fingers nervously fidgeted with something inside his pocket. His usually relaxed demeanor was replaced by tense shoulders and furrowed brows. Despite his efforts to appear composed, the strain was palpable, lingering in the air as he gathered all his courage. It was after a long hesitation that he finally took a tiny blue vial out and the simple view of it turned your joyful face into deadly ice again.

"Are you serious?" Your voice, a freezing breeze, cut through the air with a stern cadence, "Are you fucking serious, Arthur William Shelby Jr?" Your grip around the small lip gloss you were holding strengthened so much that the skin of your knuckles whitened.

"Hey, that's okay love." Arthur leaned in close. With gentle eyes that mirrored his sincerity, he spoke softly, trying to convey reassurance in each word as your anger simmered. "I didn't take any of it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Nah. Told ya I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice." The gangster lowered his head just like a terrorizing but gentle mutt would do to show his submission, "I wanted to ask if ya allowed me to take some tonight? Ya told me I could if it remained occasional. Wasn't going to take it in your back, I swear." Wrapping yourself in threatening silence, you stood like a tempest in the quiet aftermath, your posture rigid with the echoes of anger. The storm in your eyes gradually subsided, replaced by a contemplative gaze that softened the hard expression of your seraphic face. As the storm clouds of your fury dispersed, a calm determination settled upon you instead. Arthur bit his lips, mustache twitching as he did so, for time seemed suspended as you collected your thoughts and tried to regain control over your fury. You breathed deep and slow while Arthur held his, awaiting your reply and wondering if your reaction would be born from the storm or from the calm eye at its center.

"Give." You said, your melodious and quiet voice breaking the silence, then you snatched the bottle from his hand. Quickly looking to your left and then to your right to make sure no one could interrupt you, you first opened the lipgloss and proceeded to pour the white powder inside your makeup vial. Once this was done, you handed back the empty blue bottle to Arthur and mixed the cocaine with your lipgloss with the help of the small brush, "I have to admit that you're making a great deal of effort. Thank you for asking, I really... Appreciate it." The gangster stood silent and dumbstruck, wondering what the hell you could be doing. "And I did say you could take some snow occasionally." You brought the brush to your lips and carefully applied a great amount of the glistening liquid on your flesh. "So yes, you can take snow tonight... But you'll have to lick it from my lips so that when you kiss me you think I'm God." You smooched your lips together and then smiled, a wicked and tantalizing smirk that sent a sudden wave of fever through his whole being. Arthur swallowed, his gaze fixed upon the enticing curve of your lips. In the stillness of the moment, desire stirred within him, a smoldering ember ignited by the mere sight of you mixed with the sinful words you just spoke. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the subtle movements of your mouth, each gesture a silent invitation that beckoned him closer.

"I already do." He breathed with a low growl, his fervid passion turning his lean body into a shaky mess. With each passing second, the intensity of his longing grew, consuming him in a fiery embrace. His heart pounded in his chest, every fiber of his being yearned to bridge the distance between you, to taste the sweet and spice that lingered on your lips. With no more persuading needed, Arthur grabbed your face rough and let his mouth collide with yours, the kiss as brutal as a car crash. His scorching and rapid breath fanned over your skin as he licked your lips from the right corner to the left, the caress of his warm tongue making you moan against his wet flesh. Caught in the fire of desire — and definitely aroused by his carelessness— your trembling hands found rest upon his back, your nails digging into the expensive fabric of his jacket. An immediate wave of euphoria unfurled in his brain when the cocaine saturated his synapses. As needful moans raised in the corridor, Arthur couldn't tell if that was the drug or you that kickstarted his heart and dilated his pupils, but in any case, he was experiencing the most exquisite high he had ever had.

"Fuck." Arthur grunted with pleasure and gave several other licks until none of your gloss remained, then his tongue forced its way between your lips, not minding whether you had time to catch your breath or not because you were the real drug in the end. His deepest and most maddening addiction. "A fookin" Goddess you are hm."

"Arthur, Tommy's looking for—" Johnny Dog didn't finish his sentence, eyes wide open. " I just interrupted something right?" He finally blurted out, the initial shock of walking into such a steamy scene turning into the most annoying smile ever.

"Yeah, yeah Tommy. Alright." He repeated as he tried to break from the haziness. Arthur grunted, his lips still a few inches away from yours and your erratic breath melting together. Giving him one last peck —far more delicate than what you were doing one minute ago— you mouthed a silent "go" and forced yourself to resist the attraction of the invisible magnet that was inevitably pulling you towards the lanky criminal. "Alright!" Arthur roared when he turned back to you, clasping his hands together and walking to Johnny Dog with a carnivorous grin and dilated pupils. The Lee man slapped the eldest Shelby brother's back and, right before he go, shot you a little wink.

Their voices could still be heard when they walked away.

"Gonna wait a bit longer before getting your dick wet, boy."

"Shut the fuck up you fookin' cunt ay and let's watch the fight. I'm feeling bloodthirsty eh."

Three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and disgusting scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

"Arthur!"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses drowned in a deafening symphony of tinnitus, a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him, "Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream. A haunting and otherworldly scream which pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The tall Italian man twitching on the ground, choking in his own blood, should have been proud of his successful attack on the eldest Shelby brother. And yet, all he could do was stare at you horrified, his eyes reflecting the terror of his soul.

"D— Diàvulu..." He mouthed, as death came like the most wonderful relief, bringing his sinner soul far away from you, for even in Hell he'd feel safer.

Anywhere, as long as you weren't there.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers

#Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x oc #Paul Anderson #Heaven Shelby #Peaky blinders oc #John Shelby #Polly Gray #Luca Changretta #Luca Changretta x Reader #Arthur SHelby imagine

[zablife]

The Things I Would Do For You

Luca Changretta x fiance reader

A/N: Requested by the lovely @cillmequick. Based on this list of prompts. Prompt was "It terrifies me what I would do for you." Here's a twist for you, this was going to be dark and I made it fluffy!!

Warnings: language, mention of a weapon, brief fight, angst with fluffy ending

You could hear the brewing argument from the kitchen, your brother’s high nasal voice clashing with the manly tenor of Luca's. You gritted your teeth as you willed him to stop, but each time Marco dared to raise his voice to your powerful fiancé, you seethed with indignation.

Unable to shut out the sounds of his disrespect, you foisted another deft chop at the cutting board, imagining your brother’s neck there in place of the vegetables. Just when you thought you would scream, the voices ceased and your hand froze in midair.

Heavy footsteps thudded across the floorboards and the kitchen door swung toward you with a rush of warm air. Your eyes instantly shot across the room to your brother in question. However, the dark look of disapproval resting on his brow announced his decision before he had need to speak it. "You're not marrying that stronzo! I've already told him I'm sending you to Sicily next month."

That’s when your simmering temper climbed to a blazing inferno. Whipping around to face your brother head on, you announced, “I won't go! No one can keep me from him.”

The haze of anger overtook your body before you realized you were swinging at him, the large butcher knife still clutched in one hand raising above your head in a menacing swipe. He grasped your shoulders in an attempt to overpower you, crashing you both into a nearby wall and knocking the weapon from your hand and the air from your lungs.

The harsh metallic clang of the knife reverberated off the tiles like an alarm bell, the shock separating you to opposite corners of the room. Gasping at what you’d just done, you scrambled off the floor and dashed down the back stairs to the alley. Feet pounding against the creaky wooden steps, you rushed to find somewhere to hide.

It was Luca who found you pressed tightly against a wall, clutching a packet of cigarettes to your chest. You hadn't noticed they were crushed in your fist until his long fingers unfurled yours gently, a sigh escaping as he plucked one out and placed it to his lips.

There was only the rush of your desperately beating heart as you watched him light it for you. Handing it over into your trembling fingers, he patiently waited for your shoulders to relax with the first long drag.

You were waiting as well. A confession on your lips you knew he needed to hear. Blowing smoke over your shoulder to avoid his gaze, you shamefully admitted, "I'm not a good Catholic girl like you think, Luca. I could have hurt Marco tonight."

His eyes softened as he reached to stroke your cheek. "You couldn't hurt anyone, cara mia."

You shook your head against his hand. "I could if you asked me to," you declared, staring into his eyes earnestly. "It terrifies me the things I would do for you." The lovesick twinge in your voice assured him of your loyalty, making his chest swell with pride.

He enveloped you in a tight embrace, head resting upon the crown of your head as he promised, "I would never ask you to. As long as you're my girl, you'll be taken care of and protected."

At those words you began to cry softly. Luca cradled you there, stroking your back with his large hands and the silence comforted you until you began to think of Marco again.

"What do we do about my brother?" you asked with a sniff.

"I'll handle it. You don't have to worry anymore," he said, tilting your chin up to meet his twinkling eyes. A charming smile spread across his face as he added, "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

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#Luca Changretta fanfic #Luca Changretta imagine #Luca Changretta x you #Luca Changretta x reader #Luca Changretta x y/n #Luca Changretta

[anonymooseforever007]

The Engagement

(Luca Changretta x Shelby sister reader)

Summery: You had made it very clear already. You had absolutely no intentions of marrying Luca Changretta for a business deal.... So your brothers really should have been suspicious when you eagerly requested for them to set up a meeting for you and your fiancé one neutral ground.... And they should have been scared when you choose Alfie's shipyard as that neutral ground....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No trigger warnings besides peaky language and threats I think! There are talks about an arranged marriage, but once again we'll see how that goes over.... This is the first time I've like written Luca besides just mentions so I hope I did alright! Also I write this like two weeks ago but forgot to edit it until today oops! Enjoy!❤️

WC-5.0k

Part 1- The Proposal Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Remind me again why the fuck we're we're here Tom?"

"Ask her. She was the one who choose the meeting place."

"Keep in mind that she can also hear you perfectly well brother darling, and if you ask that question one more time you won't be so lucky."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender as he took a seat by John as you all sat waiting for your company to arrive. Well, Tommy didn't sit. He just stood with a cigarette hanging from his mouth watching the entrance gate of the loading dock. 

"All I don't understand is why you wanted to meet him here. After all, we're Romani blood right?"

"Yes Arthur."

"And Luca's Italian blood?"

"Correct"

"So why the fuck are we meeting at the fucking Jew's shipyard?"

"I actually agree with that. Why are we here? Isn't it suppose to be neutral ground or what not?" John chimed in and even Tommy tilted his head in concession. Even he wasn't sure why you choose to meet Luca in Alfie's territory. He would have rather met in Charlie's yard, but you'd insisted on being here, in the small boat yard on the edge of Alfie's territory. 

"Simple. If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed."

"That's some wise fucking words if I've ever heard them, poppet." 

Turning around you smiled at the approaching gangster, his loyal dog strolling a few steps ahead. Reaching out you began to coo at the large dog who was eager to receive his belly rubs. Playing with Cyril always improved your mood. You ignored the groans of your brothers and John grabbing on to Arthur's coat to he decided to lunge.

"Hello Arthur!"

"Fuck off!"

"Oi! No fighting," you interrupted getting between the two men, "Now he may hate you all, but he can still hate one more than the other so let's not push it."

Alfie nodded his head mockingly behind you as you gently shoved your eldest brother away. Sending him back to his seat, you gave Tommy a short glare for not stepping in, to which he just shrugged, and then turned towards Alfie again.

"But really why are you here?"

"Can't a man walk his own property?"

"Sure, but you said everything would be ready for when Mr. Changretta arrived. You're not suppose to be here. It's to be a private affair."

"And it is. Just making one last check to see if you lot are all ready and make one last proposal of my own. Also I wanna remind ya not to get any blood on my dock. Just had it redone all nice and such. I wouldn't want your ugly guts staining the finish. I saw their ugly fucking cars pulling up down the street on my way in. Should be here any minute. It's a shame thou init? Pretty thing like you is too good for any of these cunts. If you'd like I can kill them all now and you can run with me, eh poppet? You can play with my dog any day you want." 

You laughed as both Arthur and John stood up this time with indignant protests. Even Tommy tensed up and turned to glare at the man who had spoken.

"Alright then Mr. Solomons," you drawled, patting the man's chest, "While that is just a lovelyoffer, unfortunately I am already taken for," a quick glare at Tommy, "though you're welcome to leave the dog anytime. He's such a lovely boy." Cyril wagged his tail at the attention shoving his head into your leg like an over grown cat looking for head scratches. Ones you were more than happy to oblige.

"Well then, I best be off now haven't I mates? Unlike you lot I know to appease a pretty woman with her desires. Y/N." Alfie nodded his head as he stared to head off, Cyril waiting until his master had called thrice before leaving your side. It wasn't until they'd both rounded the corner when the company you'd finally be waiting for arrived. Three black cars pulled up smoothly before coming to a halt. From your place in the shipping yard you watched nine men exit the cars. A few more than you had expected but still not any issue.

Your brothers walked up first, and you saw Tommy moving to shake someone's hand. The man was tall with dark slicked back hair and he wore his hat slightly tilted on his head. He looked stupid. In his mouth sat a toothpick that he seemed to enjoy munching on as he listened to your brother speak. He looked like a cow when he did that you'd stubborn decided. A stupid cow. A handsome cow. But a handsome stupid cow. Stupid. handsome. cow man. asshole.....ok so obviously still you weren't happy to be there. After all, this was the man who threatened to kill your entire family. Even the children, and you made a habit of disliking anyone willing to harm children. They didn't have to want any of their own or even like them in general, but to be willing to harm something so innocent to the crimes being punished seemed wrong to you. So even without meeting the man you knew you despised him. What kinda lowlife monster would be willing to hurt innocent kids to get his revenge? ....Evidently one you're brothers we're willing to marry you too. But was there really no other deal he'd make for peace? Well....If things went to plan you were about to find out. 

"I'm glad you were able to consider my proposal Mr.Shelby, I think it's much nicer this way isn't it?"

You didn't even try to hide your disbelieving laugh as the New York Gangster's words reached your ears. Immediately the attention went you, and since he was closer now, you could see the faint outline of a permanent  stubble outlining his lower face. Stupid veryhandsome cow man. As he looked towards you for the first time Luca raised and eyebrow.

"Do you find something amusing?"

Tilting your head slightly, you smiled with a false sweetness. Out of the side of your eye, you noticed your brothers tensing up slightly. Be it from the fact Luca was so close or that you interrupted their conversion. Either way, they began to notice the glint in your eye. And slowly they were regretting allowing you to meet Luca before the wedding. As if an introduction at the alter would have been any better.

"Yes. Very amusing in fact. See, I came here thinking it was ME being proposed to," clasping a hand mockingly to your chest you continued, "But here we are and the only one being romanced is my beloved brother. ...Well, romanced isn't the word, that's got to be the shittiest proposal I've ever heard. 'I'm glad you've considered my proposal'.... poppycock! Aren't you Italians suppose to be good at this romance shit?"

Arthur choked on his tongue besides you as Tommy spoke your name in warning, which you ignored. Luca moved his toothpick around his mouth and he gave you a once over. If you hadn't already been set on hating this man, his stare would have sent a pleasant shiver down your back in a way few could these days. Finally, letting out a small but still amused hum, Luca reached out to shake your hand. 

"Y/N, I presume?"

"Shelby. Y/N Shelby....Miss Y/N Shelby is my name. And you are too close, back up," you stated firmly. The special emphasis on both 'Shelby' and 'Miss' was more than enough to let anyone know your feelings on the current situation. Luca only raised his eyebrow again and rescinded his unaccepted hand. 

"I'm Lu...."

"I know who you are," you interrupted.

"Really," Luca queried. Surely you didn't know enough about him then if you were treating him so flippantly, he thought. He was the man determined to end you entire bloodline only a few weeks ago. You should be terrified of what would happen if he decided he didn't want to marry you!! But no, he thought, instead you were....

"You're the man who thinks finger paintings are scary."

Luca's toothpick fell from his mouth, while John could be heard covering his laugh. Then his eyes narrowed and his voice became slightly darker.

"What did you say?"

Tommy put a hand on your shoulder as he stepped forward to put himself between you two. But before he could open his mouth to take control of the situation again, yours opened first. You waved your hands around in sarcastic  excitement as you spoke, imitating the man's voice.

"What were you helping 'mama' with her lesson plan one day, making hand turkeys and decide, 'ohhh THUMBS! Terrifying?! That'll be a great way to show people not to mess with me!'"

Luca's eye twitched and if he hadn't already lost it, you were sure he would have snapped the toothpick between his teeth, his jaw was clenched so tightly.

"Watch your tone with me woma..."

"OR WHAT? You'll send me a finger painting?"

Arthur wrapped an arm around your waist and began to pull your back. No, he didn't like how Luca was speaking to you, but he also didn't want you to start a war of your own today. Even if he had a good idea you'd win. And yet still you weren't deterred. 

"Can it be pink and have confetti? OOHH or maybe it can be red like the blood that's gonna run down your throat when imaamuahhh," Arthur hissed as you bit the hand covering your mouth, but it was enough time for Tommy to finally step in again. Briefly...

"She doesn't mean that. It's the fa..."

"He's right! I don't!" You interjected again, freeing yourself of your eldest brother, "I'm not actually a fan of blood, so I won't slit your throat, but I'd be carefully of the champagne at the after party. Never know what slips in the cups these days..."

This time it was John who grabbed you, though not as roughly as Arthur, but luckily for everyone you had finished.... for now. The entire yard was silent and even Tommy was at a small loss for what to say. Truth be told he didn't know if there was anything to say. It was a long enough shot to convince Luca that marriage would be a way to end the vendetta and now here you were, possibly ruining that chance within half an hour. While he could understand your anger, there was still a part of him that was annoyed at the fact you could be so tactless. Another part though, the part that was still your big brother, was incredibly proud and resisting the urge to laugh at your comments. Luca however, remained unimpressed.

"My apologies, Miss Shelby," Luca restated, started to become more than annoyed with your antics. Surely, you knew that he was the one holding the power here? If your family had it, there was no way they'd have even considered the marriage. He was the one holding all the cards and you were instead choosing to act as though this entire plan was your idea. In a quieter, and deceitfully threatening voice, Luca ignored your demand for space and leaned closer to your ear. "Though, one would think for a woman in your situation, you'd be a little more welcoming to your fiancé. After all, I've been so generous to reconsider my previous message of vendetta, haven't I Bella?"

John could be heard whispering to Tommy, probably demanding to be allowed to hit the taller man, but he was held back. Again, you ignored your brothers instead focusing on the man before you, who's just said one of the worst things he could have.

"Generous? You think you're generous to try and force a woman into marriage and take her away from her family? Is it generous to not to kill children in exchange for someone else's freedom? Do you expect me to be happy, fucking happy, to have to spend the rest of my life with you when I don't even know you? I don't who you are or what you might do to me. You expect me to just follow your every whim and play housewife, knowing that one day you may kill me to go after my brothers? Is that what you define fucking generosity as," you fumed, just as angry as you were when you first learned about the new deal. "Well, if that's generous then damn all of the generosity in the world to hell! I agreed to come here today to meet you for my family. I am agreeing to consider giving up some of my freedom for their safety, when I'm not even the one who started this whole mess. I could have said no. I could have left them to fend for themselves and likely die over a needless feud, but I didn't. Because I was the one who decided to be generous. I am the one willing to give up something good that I have, to keep spending bad from happening to someone else. That is generous. My drawback for their benefit. I didn't have to do it but I did. Because I love them. So unless you're more incompetent than you've come off so far, I'd try thinking of a better word than generous for that little statement if I was you," speaking tersely you dared Luca to question your speech. Then taking a deep breath you closed your eyes off a moment.

His last comment had thrown you off, setting you off in a way you hadn't meant to go. And while your words were true, this isn't where you wanted the conversation to go. Not if your plan was going to work. It couldn't work if you'd pushed Luca too far too fast. He needed to be in just the right spot for the biggest blow to make the most efficient impact. Sighing, you straightened your shirt and looked down at your shoes. Your glare dropped and an almost desperate look appeared in your eyes briefly. 

"Besides.... is it too much to ask for a proper proposal? Like the one from a story that makes you dream of true love," Tilting your head in an almost wistfully sad way, you'd met Luca's gaze again, noticing that by some miracle he's eyes had softened just slightly. "Even if it's not true it would be nice to pretend wouldn't it? To actually be asked to be one's forever even if it seems there's only one answer? Can't I at least be granted that?"

Luca thought for a moment, taking the time to pull a new toothpick from his pocket. Shooting a brief glance over your shoulder, he saw your brothers staring at him intensely from a few steps behind. It crossed his mind that if he truly did want to, he could kill you here and now. Because he really did have the power in this fight. You stood within half an arms reach and the eight men he'd brought with him far outnumbered your three brothers. It could be an easy fight, over in mere seconds, damned how neutral this ground was suppose to be. He could kill you all now and the vendetta would be settled, AND he wouldn't ever have to deal with your infuriating brothers or your even more infuriating comments ever again. You had showed him no respect up to this point and if it were anyone else they'd have been dead after the first interruption. But you weren't dead, and for some reason, some unknown feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach, Luca wanted do keep it that way. So he unwittingly did exactly what you wanted him to do. 

"You want a proper proposal," Luca drawled, his eyes falling to your lips once and his voice was calmer now, almost softly curious, like he sympathized with your plea, "Is that it? Me asking you, and that's all it'll take for this to be done? You'll be good and stop fighting?"

Smiling sweetly again, a more genuine smile this time you nodded, clasping you hands together and placing them behind you almost shyly as you rocked your feet. It was a complete change from your attitude moments ago. Like all it took was to believe someone was listening to you, for you to become this sweet little demure creature from the fairytales his mother taught in her class. 

And somehow, naively Luca didn't realize the fairytale of your own act now. Giving a pleased smile, at what he assumed was your acceptance of the deal, he nodded, silently agreeing to your desires. Despite your beliefs Luca didn't think of himself as a monster, nor did he want an unhappy marriage either. He didn't necessarily care if you loved him, but it would be nice if he knew you wouldn't betray him. And if he could please his wife, he figured life would be so much easier for him in that matter. So he supposed he could give you this one thing you seemed to so closely desire. Besides, there was, again, this almost funny feeling that had settled in Luca's stomach. He couldn't say what it was but there was apart of him that was almost.... excited to be able to actually propose to you instead of just meeting you at the alter. It was something he couldn't explain and wouldn't admit yet but it was there. And so the next words from his mouth would seal both your fates.... or so he thought as he took the toothpick out of his mouth to fulfil your wish. 

"Y/N Shelby? Would you like to..."

"Wait, not like that!"

Luca froze, his head tilting in confusion at the light frown that has formed on your face. Your brothers, as well as Luca's own men could be here whispering in the background. None of them were really sure what was going on now, but none of them moved, all equally curious to see where this was going. 

"Not like that? Didn't you just say you wanted me to propose?"

"Yes, but I also said propose properly," you insisted, "if you don't do it the right way it may as well mean nothing." 

"And what exactly does 'proper' mean by your standards? What do you want me to do?" There was a small amount of sarcasm in his words due to a voice in his mind that was starting to get annoyed again, but Luca ignored it. It didn't even take you a second of thought before your smile returned. As had the look that worried your brothers in the first place.

"It means get on your knees Mr. Changretta."

Silence echoed across the entire shipyard. Almost all the men present stood in shock, eyes wide, even Tommy at what you'd just said. Luca however just tilted his head to the side, his hat looked straight now, processing. The deceptively sweet smile still lingered on your face as you waited for a response.

"You said to get on my knees.... to propose to you?" he repeated slowly, wanting to confirm you'd actually just demanded that of him. He wanted to be sure you had the audacity to order such from him. 

"I want you on your knees Luca....now."

....

Luca listened. 

For some reason, one nobody would ever be able to explain, he did as you said. The toothpick was clenched tightly between his lips as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, eyes locked with yours the entire time. His men could be heard whispering to each other behind him, and Luca knew he'd have to have a talk with them later about what they saw. Luca took a deep breath in, contemplating if this was actually going to happen, if he was actually doing this....Evidently he was. 

"Y/N Shelby..." he paused a moment as you stuck out your hand indicating he should take it... He did. You couldn't see it, but Tommy was looking up at sky, lips tightly together trying to hide his smirk. John and Arthur did have to turn around to hide their grins now too. Luca started again. The words were spoken with a slight hint of sarcasm as he repeated by the title you'd reminded him of earlier. Luca tilted his head in question, and if he did it any more his hat probably would have fallen off. 

"Y/N Shelby, Miss Y/N Shelby.... would you do me the honor of marrying me, Luca Changretta, and become my wife?"

"No."

Luca almost choked on his toothpick, he inhaled so quickly, his cheeks darkening a slight tint of red. You hadn't even paused for a moment to think, bluntly rejecting the man on his knees before you. Squeezing his hand lightly, you smiled again, though now Luca could see the true meaning of the look and realised that you never had any intentions of accepting his proposal at al. You just wanted to make a fool out of him down on his knees. Quickly, that embarrassment turned to anger as Luca shot to his feet, pulling you closer by the hand and seething in your face. Behind you, your brothers shot into action as well, all tensing up and reaching for their guns. But they knew that even if necessary, they'd have no shot as you were practically shielding Luca with you body because if where they stood. 

"That's is enough! Who the fuck do you think you are to fucking make me kneel..."

"Step back Luca," you interrupted, undetected by his ranting, but he ignored you.

"Don't tell me to fucking step back woman. If you think you can treat me...."

"Step back Luca," you repeated again calmly, but it only served to anger him more.

"STEP BACK! Step fucking back!! I will stand wherever I fucking want to stand," and with that he stepped even closer, to where the tip of his nose was touching yours. "You don't seem to understand anything going on."

"Actually I..."

"NO! Your precious brothers are going to have a bullet coming out of every fixing hole they have in ten seconds in you don't fucking listen," His hands were on your shoulders know gripping you roughly. The toothpick in his mouth almost stabbing you in the face as he spoke. "You are not the one in power here, I am. You do not make the calls, I do. I am the one who can tear apart everything you hold dear." Luca leaned his head back arrogantly, looking down at you over nose. He was still less than an arm's length part. "I have nine men and you have three. So who's to fucking stop me from killing your brothers and having my way with you right now?"

A shot rang though the air.

Luca's toothpick was still in his mouth, but now half of it had been blown to sawdust by the bullet passingly cleanly before his face. 

You just smiled...

"I told you to step back Luca..."

Every man in the ship yard ignored you, reaching for their guns, trying to find the shooter. Even your brothers looked around, slightly panicked, not knowing who fired the gun.... Or whose side they were on. The surprise of the shot, had loosened Luca's grip on you as you freed yourself and took a few steps back. Two more shots rang out from somewhere, landing close to Luca's feet, creating more space between the pair of you as he stumbled back. Then the shipyard went quiet again. Not a single man moved, for fear the next shots wouldn't be so harmless. Still searching for the ambusher Luca turned towards Tommy.

"I thought you said this was neutral ground! It's suppose to be private," He demanded, completely ignoring the fact he, himself had just threatened you on the very same neutral ground.

"It is. Or it's fucking suppose to be. I have no clue what's going on," Tommy replied, just as concerned. He should have known Alfie would play dirty. He hadn't counted on you doing it either though.

"But it's just that Mr. Changretta," clasping your hands together, you started towards the Italian man again, having no fear of getting shot. "As I told my brothers earlier, 'If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed.' And I promise, Alfred Solomons hates both of you."

Luca huffed and narrowed his eyes. "I suppose this was your doing too?"

"Of course. See that 'you' is spelled without an 'me'.....and me, well I, have a very good relationship with a certain man's dog. And it is just amazing what a man will do when his dog likes you."

No one spoke so you continued. Though your face remained composed in an accomplished grin, you were almost bouncing on the balls of your feet due to your excitement. Your plan was going very nicely. Laughing, you carelessly spun around once, observing the mass of boxes and boats and building around you.

"They're amazing are they? Snipers? Could shoot your hat off from half a mile away  and you'd have never even heard the shot. Do you know how many snipers during the war were Jews? I don't, but I understand that Mr. Solomons employee a decent number of them. And when my dear friend heard of this whole marriage ploy?.....Well he righteously shared my outrage and offered to help me." Now you had taken to walking circles around your target. Now Luca realised that it was in fact you who had all the power, since the moment his tires hit the yard's ground. "And luckily for you, I did manage to curve his "help" from something a little bit less...murdery? Perhaps. After all, I do prefer to avoid violence if I can. There are so many more civilised methods than that...And finally we settled on this. The 'official engagement' taking place in this very yard, where I politely ask you to rethink your offer. And if you don't, we try to renegotiate.... and if you don't agree to that.... well. Luca you were wrong earlier..... I have far more than three men. All of who are very inclined to keep me safe. Now they've been instructed not to injury unless necessary, but that doesn't mean they can't give a warning shot. It doesn't mean they have to either. They were being very very nice just now. And you can't see them, but I promise they've had their sights on you for a while now. Why not give them a smile and then I'll tell you how this is gonna go." You opened your arms wide as if showing off everything. Luca just watched chewing on the half of his toothpick that remained. 

"How what's gonna go?" It actually wasn't Luca who spoke up. Nor was it your brothers. One of Luca's men, had asked the question. You turned and smiled at the man nodding you head once as if pleased that someone was participating. Luca made a mental note to beat the man later for encouraging you.

"See I really don't want to marry you. I don't love you. I don't even know you. There's also the fact you threatened everyone I love. But I also understand you and my brothers' small minds are incapable of imagining deals involving anything other than fighting or fucking and I don't particularly want to do either of those things with it right now. So I've come up with a new plan and who knows, maybe it'll work out in everyone's favour. Are you ready to hear it?" You paused waiting for a response. When none came you raised and eyebrow and made a point of glancing towards a rooftop over Luca's shoulder. "Do you want to know how this will work Luca?"

"Fine."

"Perfect! So you WILL take back your little finger paintings, but I will NOT be marrying you anytime soon. However, for the good of our families I am presenting another option. Luca Changtetta, I will NOT marry you on a whim, but," You paused for a moment for dramatic effect, waiting until Luca tilted his head. "Should you agree... I will let you take my hand in courtship for one year. And I promise it will not be easy for you. If you manage to whoo me, the you can have your marriage. If not.... Well then I should hope by that day we are close enough friends to put the past behind us and everyone can go their separate ways."

Luca tilted his head in confusion, "What?"

Bloody hell, this man needed to pick up a romance novel. Huffing slightly your reworded your demands. 

"Luca, you have a year to date me and make me fall in love with you. If you do I'll marry you. If not the you have a whole year to give up or come up with a better plan than killing everyone. Got it?"

"Why the fuck didn't you just say that in the first place? And what if I don't want to court you?"

"Because I didn't wanted to. And if you don't want to play then you can give up now or let the snipers play target practice."

Luca nodded his head and thought for a moment. The right choice was obvious as the fact that you were crazier than Alfred Solomons. After all, first you were threatening to kill him for trying to marry you, and now he had a year to change your mind. Luca's hand was still wrapped around his gun and he had half a mind to use it. The only thing keeping him from shooting you was the fact he knew, he'd have at least five bullets in him before he pulled the trigger. The obvious choice was to walk away now and give up the vendetta. You had just told him he could stop and you all could go your separate ways. No one else would have to die. All he had to do was give up, admitting you'd outsmarted him. He'd have to admit that you did hold all the power. 

"Well, Mr. Changretta? What do you think of my proposal?"

Luca didn't like admitting anyone else had the power... Even if looked very good on you. And so his choice was made.

"I suppose I better learn your favorite type of flower amore."

"Whatever kind you're most allergic to Romeo"

.....

And so it began...

#peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #luca changretta #peaky blinders #luca changretta x reader #Luca changretta imagine #shelby sister #shelby sister imagine

[red-write-hand]

random headcanons from my mind…

tommy gives good hugs

arthur knows random songs and hums them while he works

ada knows how to bake like one thing and if you like that thing, be prepared for that to be made at every opportunity around you

john is actually a huge romantic and he loves to just hold you sometimes

finn will sometimes just bring you random objects and start ranting (very happily) about where he got it and why it reminded him of you

grace learns your favorite songs and “accidentally” starts singing them when you’re in the Garrison

luca loves to run his fingers through your hair and draw little designs into your skin

lizzie loves to give you gifts randomly, just to show you how much she loves you

freddie secretly loves when you scratch his stubble

#thomas shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #ada shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders x reader #finn shelby x reader #lizzie stark x reader #grace burgess x reader #freddie thorne x reader

[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

[justlulu]

🔥Sex with the Peaky Blinder boys🔥

I need to give @greatlydelirious credit for the inspo, HI nice to meet you!, your ‘Peaky Blinders dicks description’ was such a blessing ;) and you set me in the mood to write some smut as I originally did so thank u for that.🌷💕

⚠️my very PERSONAL opinion ⚠️

Tommy Shelby

Tommy fucks like he works: well placed thrusts, steady rhythm. He’s the type to go straight to the point, not leaving too much room for foreplay, he does his job and he does it good, but he certainly knows how to use his tongue when he’s in the mood. Not a big fan of dirty talk, well not a fan of talking to begin with, he will let his kisses and caresses speak for him. Missionary and HE HOLDS YOUR HANDS THE WHOLE TIME!

Alfie Solomons

The man is a savage. Sex with him is hot and messy: he likes to switch positions and have you in as much ways as he can, but there’s nothing he loves more than laying down on his back and letting you sit on him and do your thing. Especially after a long, stressful day at work, he loves to hand over the reins and watch you bounce on his cock. He also enjoys making you believe that little you is capable of overpowering him, allowing you to hold his arms or press him down on the mattress. He lets you play a bit, before easily rolling over and pinning you under his gigantic body, a hand cupping the top of your head to keep you still as he proceeds with a hard pounding. He’s loud, not engaged in dirty talk, but grunts a lot and curses even more.

Luca Changretta

BDSM! He’s kinky as hell, has a power exchange fixation and a dominant mindset. He’s a boss after all, he likes to take control. Sex with him is never just a quick fuck. He likes to take his time, set the mood, get you ready. He will take a sit, matchstick in his mouth, and make you undress for him, give him a show, present yourself to him. He craves your submission in all of its forms: kneeling at his feet with his thumb stroking your cheek as you suck him off, spreading your legs and waiting patiently for him to touch you, and beg beg BEG! You’ll be a fucked out mess when he finally gives it to you.

John Shelby

He wants to be tough, but in bed he’s a sweetheart. He really does make love to you, kissing every inch of your skin before he even starts to undress himself. He will never admit it to his mates, but he also loves a bossy partner who puts him back in his place and praises him when he behaves.

Arthur Shelby

He’s a fucking animal, someone once said. They were fucking right. Hair pulling, love bites, spanking and a hard and fast pace. He fucks like he needs to breed you. He likes to maneuver you body and bounce it like a rag doll, but holds you gently in his arms right after you’re done.

—

A.N. As always, I keep it in my drafts for months trying to make it better until I can’t bare the sight of it anymore. It should have contained Michael too, but my brain just refuses to think of something..so, no Michael😔 Someone said that what we write is never as good as we want it to be, but it’s always better than what we think of it for the readers, so here you go.

-lulu🤍

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby smut #john shelby smut #luca changretta smut #alfie solomons smut #arthur shelby smut #fanfic #tv series #imagines #smut #bbc peaky blinders

[corpsekiller]

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.💖

𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 — 𝐥.𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. luca changretta x fem!reader (shelby!sister)

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. arranged marriage, nsfw! unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise, it's quite soft compared to my usual style

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i'm so sorry it took me this long to write yout request, my dear. i was quite busy with university and exams, but i hope you can enjoy this fic nonetheless. i tried to keep it soft, but still spicy and i had so much fun writing this despite the stress og my studies 🖤 (also bear with me, i don't speak italian and pulled the pet names from google)

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 1.840 words

MASTERLIST

“Don’t be scared.”

His hand ghosts over your spine and comes to rest on your shoulder blade, fingers carefully undoing the buttons of your wedding dress. The lace slips past your legs to the floor and the sight of the white silk pooling around your naked feet reminds you that now, you’re inevitably bound to none other than Luca Changretta, who has become your husband on this very day. Truthfully, you didn’t have a choice — you were meant to marry the leader of the Italian mob since the day your brother killed his father, shot him straight through the head without an ounce of hesitance and that bullet sealed your fate.

Tommy knew it would only be a matter of time until they’d return for the vengeful spill of Shelby blood. Still, it hurts how he barely considered your opinion when he arranged your marriage, a peace offering to prevent more unnecessary deaths in the streets of Birmingham, and sold you off to the Italians as if you were merely another figure on his chess board and not his sister.

That’s the curse of being a Shelby, isn’t it? The purpose of your existence is to sacrifice everything for your family without batting an eye and perhaps that’s why Tommy selected you as the bride - because you were tired of losing because you wanted to live your own life. Because you wanted more.

This is the price you pay.

“I know you’re afraid,” Luca murmurs as if he read your racing thoughts, brushing a strand of hair out of your face and gently grabbing your hands to help you step out of your gown. There’s a tenderness to his touch you didn’t expect to fund after all that has happened between your families, the hatred and the resentment that bonds the two of you, but even now, as he guides you to the bed and pushes you into the soft pillows, his grasp stays gentle. “I promise I’ll take good care of you, amore. Just because I have, well, a strong dislike for your brothers doesn’t mean I won’t treat you like a gentleman.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” you whisper, a blush on your cheeks. Your reply causes him to smile, a twitch of his lips that you would have surely missed if you didn’t watch him so closely. His movements resemble those of a predator lurking around his prey — slow, calculated, elegance in every step he takes as he approaches the bed and gently spreads your legs before settling between them.

Arching his eyebrow, he caresses the supple flesh of your thighs, unbothered by your undergarments still covering your most vulnerable parts. You’re grateful he’s taking it so slowly, easing you into this new relationship with much more delicacy than you had expected of the Italian mob.

“You worry too much, pretty girl,” he replies with a soft chuckle, an amused glint in his eyes as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your knickers, tugging on the flimsy fabric until it glides over the curve of your hips. Instinctively, you lift your legs to let him strip off the garment, though you can’t suppress a pleasant shudder when his gaze returns to your cunt, now exposed to his sight. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs, a mere brush against your folds that causes you to take a sharp inhale full of anticipation and much to your surprise, your body moves on its own to get closer to him.

“Let me take care of you, yeah?” His question is followed by his hands grabbing your knees to throw your legs over his broad shoulders as he once again comes to rest on his stomach, pulling you closer until you feel his breath against your cunt. “It would be a shame to neglect you on our wedding day, wouldn’t it? Especially when you look so beautiful, all spread out for me.”

His lips nibble on your skin and you whine quietly at the sensation of his teeth sinking into your flesh, not enough to hurt you, certainly leaving marks you’ll see tomorrow, and strangely, the thought of him claiming you in such a carnal and yet passionate way flusters you.

Maybe... maybe there’s even a chance of love.

You would have liked to indulge in that thought for a moment longer, though Luca’s teasing makes it hard for you to concentrate on anything else but his skilled mouth slowly trailing over the curve of our thigh to where you need him the most. The lack of stimulation frustrates you to no end and forces you, despite your wariness towards your new husband, to buck your hips in search of some friction he might allow you out of pity.

“Don’t be impatient,” he admonishes, though there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. His poorly disguised amusement brings a timid grin to your face and your heart flutters in your chest, somehow completely at ease with the enemy of your family in your bed. This marriage might change your life for the better, although you were preparing yourself for the worst since the day your brother told you he promised your hand to Luca. “I promise I’ll make you feel good, mia cara, but you have to be a good girl for me.”

His tongue darts out to drag over your cunt. A gasp leaves your lips and your toes curl in pleasure, legs already beginning to tremble as your husband repeats the action and places his arm over your stomach to keep you still. His lips find your clit, teasingly sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to coax more sounds out of your throat, clearly unbothered by your hand that has found its way into his hair to tug him closer to your aching cunt.

Every fiber of you seems to be set ablaze, eyes fluttering close and fingers clawing at the sheets for support while Luca relishes in your pulsing heat as if you’re his last meal on death row.

And fuck, the noises he makes are absolutely filthy — you can hear him groan against your slick folds, nose dragging against your puffy clit while his tongue dips into your entrance. Slowly, carefully and then all at once. The sensation is foreign to you, but the pleasure his mouth brings you is delightful and your hips move on their own for more friction.

Another hand comes up to rest on your waist, harsher and more demanding than the other to hold you in place before it disappears to between your thighs again. You cry out, partly surprised, when he starts to circle your sensitive bud with the pad of his thumb, writhing and squirming under the electric jolts he sends through your entire body.

“You taste delicious,” he moans between your thighs. The vibrations of his low voice draw another whine from your lips, his name falling from your tongue like it’s the only word you have ever known. “Come on, amore... I think you can moan a little louder than this. We should let your brothers know how good I’m treating you, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t expect an answer from you, already knows you’re too far gone to reply in a manner that would be appropriate for a lady like you, though he finds himself enjoying the way your voice stutters and breaks as you attempt to give him a response. To no avail. Instead, a cry fills the room when he pushes two fingers inside you, slowly stretching you out until your head turns blank and all you can do is paw at the sheets and pull at the dark strands of his hair.

“God, you look so beautiful... You like this, hm?” He murmurs and licks his lips glistening with your juices, a satisfied grin pulling on the corners of his mouth. Oh, he’s so mean about it, asking you this question even though he knows you can barely speak, so condescending and charming that you mindlessly nod your head along his words. Because he’s right, you like it. “I know you do, pretty girl. You’ll take everything I give you, huh?”

The broken sob you let out when he curls his fingers against your sweet spot makes him groan between your shaking thighs, cock throbbing against the seam of his pants, the only garment he hasn’t gotten rid of yet, too eager to please you to care because your pleasure is the only thing on his mind at this moment. His tongue continues to flick over your swollen clit and heat rises in your core, an unforgiving force that grows with each thrust of his fingers inside your sopping cunt.

“Fuck! S’good, so fuckin’ good, Luca,” you keen, legs threatening to close tightly around his head. Your husband chuckles, a deep laugh causing you to blush at the obscene moans tumbling from your parted lips, but you’re unable to hold yourself back, not to mention keep yourself quiet. “Shit, I think I’m going to... I’m close!"

A gentle kiss is pressed to your pussy, then he lifts his chin from your pulsing cunt, digits still so deep inside of you as he crawls up to drag you into a kiss that is surprisingly sweet compared to his fingers fucking faster with every passing second. The drag of his tongue into your mouth lets you taste your own arousal, gets you so lost in the sensation of his lips against yours and suddenly, he’s curling his fingers just right, hits a spot that shots white-hot lightning through your core, and coaxes a sob of pleasure out of you.

“Come on, mia cara," he murmurs, entranced by the movements of your hips grinding down on his hands slotted tightly between your thighs. His fingers move relentlessly, keep prodding at that sensitive spot until your eyes cross and your nails dig into the mattress in desperation. “Cum for me, pretty girl. I promise I’ll give you the world if you cum on my fingers now.”

That’s all you need to fall over the edge. The wave of your orgasm crashes over you in a mind-shattering sensation of pleasure and warmth you have never experienced before, so overwhelming that you’re clinging to Luca’s bare chest to keep yourself grounded as you quiver beneath his body. You notice him whispering something to you, tender words of affection and praise you could almost hear if it weren’t for the blood rushing loudly in your ears, but it’s enough to make you feel comfortable and safe in his arms.

“Are you feeling alright, amore?” Luca quips after your tremors have subsided, smirking at your blissful expression. His nose brushes over your cheeks as he leans down to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth, one hand cradling your face to take a better look at you. “I understand if you want to rest, though you should know that I’m not opposed to continuing this night just like this.”

#🔪— murderous desire #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #luca changretta x reader smut #luca changretta x you #luca changretta smut #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta x shelby!sister #tommy shelby x sister reader

[justrainandcoffee]

Mercy (Arthur and Tommy Shelby) + (Luca Changretta x fem!oc)

Summary: Who's that tall black woman entering the Garrison without asking permission? Arthur Shelby felt something when he saw her. She was looking around, when finally she saw his blue eyes. "Who are ya?" he asked. "Mrs. Changretta," she answered "and you're the one who killed Luca."

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7k || I'm sorry if I didn't capture Arthur's voice perfectly. It's hard enough to write in other language 🙃.

Over a year ago.

One of her friends was trying to comfort her. Kelly was a dancer in the same place that Aveline sang and the same as her, she was a black woman.

Rumours were too loud to be false. And that explained his disappearance. Aveline was walking to her home when she first heard it.

"Luca Changretta is dead."

"He was betrayed. A mad man killed him."

Luca was dead. Aveline felt her heart breaking in thousand pieces but she refused to believe it. Anyone but Luca.

Next time she heard it was at her workplace. She was leaning against the counter when one man said to the other that the Changretta clan were part of the history now.

"Arthur Shelby."

"The peaky blinder?"

"The eldest one, yes. He shot him."

Her eyes filled with tears. Luca was an assassin and she knew that probably deserved to die, but it didn't mean that it hurt less.

"I'm going to England," he had said to her their last night together "I have business with certain family. But I'll return to you, amore mio."

Aveline smiled at him, while Luca kissed her bare shoulders. "Will you be alright?"

"Of course, Linnie. As always. My sweet Linnie."

They made love once again. That same night Luca gifted her his pocket watch and a brooch made of gemstones. "So you can remember me," he said. "You know, beautiful lillies are Italy national flower and when I saw this brooch I thought it was a perfect present for you. You're a beautiful flower."

She kissed him. Months later, Aveline still could feel his lips over hers and his tongue in her mouth. Luca was as passionate as dangerous.

That was the last memory she had of him.

Now

Birmingham has nothing to do with New York. It was cloudy, cold, rainy and full of mud. And in comparison it was really small. You could hide in New York but apparently not in Birmingham.

Small Heath was almost empty. Very few people pay attention to her.

"Where's the Garrison?" she asked to a man who was selling milk.

"Two blocks away, ma'am. But be careful, not good people."

"I know. And I appreciate your help, sir."

Arthur was smoking and drinking whiskey waiting for Tommy who was dealing with new partners and Michael. Their cousin was starting to be a nuisance and they tolerate him only because of Polly.

Some men were drinking there as well, minding their own business.

The door opened again. This time the person who entered was a really tall woman. Arthur looked at her. Her slim and yet curvy figure was covered by a purple dress. Her gloves were black as her hair. And Arthur could say that she was a pretty woman but most of all, he was impressed by her height. Taller than him, for sure who was the tallest of the family. So different from his wife. The black woman talked quietly with the barman and he pointed to Arthur who gulped.

He stood up when she walked towards him. He wasn't used to see people taller than him. He had to lift up his head to look at her.

"Good afternoon," she greeted.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. How can I help ya?"

"Are you Arthur Shelby?"

"Indeed, ma'am. The owner of this foockin' bar. Who are ya?"

The black woman extended her hand and Arthur took it "Aveline is my name. I'm from New York… and I'm Mrs. Changretta."

A cold shiver ran through his spine. Luca Changretta was married? That killer bastard had a woman? How could Tommy ignore that? Arthur could see Luca behind his wife smiling triumphantly at him.

"Did you really think that you could kill me without consequences, Shelby?" He imagined Luca bitting his toothpick and smirking. "I just sent you my beautiful black angel."

Arthur blinked, still confused. Luca Changretta had a woman and she was there, probably, to kill him.

"May I sit down?"

"Sure, yeah. Yes." Arthur moved the chair and helped her. Then ordered the barman to bring her a glass of gin.

"How can I help ya?" He asked seconds later when they were alone once again.

"I need answers. I really need answers." Aveline touched the glass but didn't drink. Her long fingers grabbed it, feeling the coldness of it. "Why?" Now her dark brown eyes were looking at him.

Arthur drunk another glass of whiskey before answering. "He killed my little brother. My Johnny boy. Then he tried to kill us one by one. I had to."

"You talked as you didn't have another chance."

"I foockin' didn't. It was him or us."

.

"Who's the woman Arthur is talking to?" Tommy Shelby arrived at the pub and saw his brother talking to a woman he had never seen before. The barman shrugged.

"No idea, Mr. Shelby, she came in and asked for Arthur they're talking since then."

From the distance, Tommy studied his brother. Arthur clearly wasn't flirting with her, he wasn't trying to seduce her. Arthur was uncomfortable, but the question was why.

The leader of the Peaky Blinders walked towards them. He put his cap inside his pocket and approached the lady.

"Who are you?" she asked confused by his attitude.

"Don't you know who am I?"

"Should I? I have no clue who the hell are you, sir, but I'm talking with this gentleman."

"He's my brother," interrupted Arthur. "The one in charge: Tommy."

So that was Thomas Shelby? Aveline stood up slowly and looked at him. He barely surpassed her breasts. She saw his blue eyes trying to reach hers, so Aveline lowered her head facing him. "Good afternoon, then, sir."

But Tommy wasn't a man who could be easily intimidated, not even for a tall woman. Why was she so tall? So he didn't apart his eyes from hers. The woman barely blink.

"She's Changretta's wife," Arthur said looking at the table. Only then Tommy stared at his brother and then at the woman again. "Luca Changretta in any case," clarified.

Tommy wasn't sure about it. He investigated. He really did it and as far as he knew, Changretta was a single man. Too busy for love, for a woman. "I need proofs," he said.

"What makes you think that I'm going to show you some proofs apart from my words? Do you want me to prove you that I knew him and that I loved him with every inch if my body? Luca was everything to me."

"He was not married."

"Not officially. Look at me, Mr. Shelby. I'm nothing but a black woman, do you know the atrocities I have to hear day after day? The things his family said to me! But Luca… he was different. We didn't married officially because it's forbidden, because in the eyes of the law I'm less than person. But we did married. Alone, just him and me. I became Mrs. Changretta one cold night after a particularly bloody massacre. I didn't approve it, but I always accepted Luca the same way he accepted me. I'm Mrs. Changretta. Like it or not."

Tommy lit a cigarette. It didn't seem to him that the woman was lying. Only a wife could talk that way of a man like Luca. What she wanted, then? Money? He offered her a cheque but Aveline cursed him.

"I came here because I needed to talk to Arthur Shelby. His name crossed the ocean. Of course, the hero who killed the monster."

"Not a hero, ma'am. Just a man. I won't ask for your forgiveness, this just our job."

"I don't believe in forgiveness. I don't believe in mercy. And considering your job, I don't think you believe in it either. Don't worry about that."

Aveline studied the eldest brother. Unlike the other one, he looked defeated. She imagined Arthur Shelby like a knight in a shining armour. Brave, arrogant, despicable. Instead, he was nothing but just a man. Probably haunted by his own demons. Amazing that he was the one who killed her Luca. Her poor Luca. It seemed he was more willing to talk until Thomas Shelby appeared, now it looked like he was looking for his permission to open the mouth. Tommy Shelby was clearly in charge.

"Then, if you already talked to Arthur and if you don't want money. Maybe what you want is protection, a shelter… I know a woman in London. She works helping women in need. Her name is Rose Solomons…"

"Ya foockin' kill Alfie!! Ya don't want two widows, thanks to the Shelbys, together, Tom."

"Oh, another one. What a nice hobby. Killing husbands must be a nice entertainment." Aveline, snorted.

"Same hobby as Luca. Ask John's wife what she thinks about it." Tommy replied.

"The same wife who run away from your family with the kids? That one? Esme Lee-Shelby, nice woman… she wants you dead."

Tommy chuckled, "I see you did your job."

"I'm a Changretta, do not underestimate me. But, I'm not a killer. My hands are clean and so is my soul." Aveline closed her eyes just for a few seconds. "Do not fear me. I'm harmless. I'm just a singer and now I'm just delivering a message."

"What's the message?"

"The blood of Luca Changretta will chase you. From now and for the next decades."

"All Changrettas are dead," affirmed Tommy Shelby.

Aveline smiled at him, "Wrong. There's still one. Augustus Caesar Changretta my son. His son. Named after the founder of the Roman Empire. Fascinating, don't you think? Maybe he'd found a new Italian empire. It'd be interesting that in the future a tall black man appears in front of you claiming vengeance for a father he never met."

Their last night together, Luca and Aveline had made a baby. The boy was a little over a year old now. The kid was protected by a person she trusted very much.

Aveline stood up and walked through the pub until she reached the door.

"I don't have anything else to say. Good afternoon, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelbys." She was ready to leave but stopped for a moment "Do you know what Italian word Luca taught me first?"

Arthur shook his head and Tommy just looked at her.

"Vendetta."

#arthur shelby #tommy shelby #luca changretta #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby imagine #luca changretta x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x oc #tommy Shelby fanfic

[arzennn]

Sway With Me | Luca Changretta imagine

Luca takes you to a charity event

warnings: none<3

ps: I see very few Luca Changretta fics here but I’m a sucker for this man

I had the dress picked out. Shoes that matched. I spent an hour doing my hair. And everything was perfect. Luca knocked three times on the door - our door.

“Amore?”

“Come in, love,” I called, and he stepped inside. I was getting dressed, the skirt already covering my lower half, but the I couldn’t do the zipper on the back. I looked at the man in the mirror. He came up behind me and started caressing my shoulders gently.

“The car gets here in fifteen minutes,” he said, and pressed a small kiss on my neck.

“Can you help?”

He smiled and worked the zipper up in one swift motion.

“There. Sei bello, mio caro,” he murmured in his low, raspy voice, making me blush like a teenage girl. We rushed downstairs and took our coats. The car was already waiting for us, parked on the pavement. The ride was quiet - Luca’s mind was somewhere else. I knew it, because we were headed to a very important charity event. Where all of the important people would be, and my husband was a rather important person in Birmingham. It was mainly about business, but he had me at the part where he said there would be music and dancing. We got there shortly. Luca jumped out and opened the door for me. The driver didn’t even had the chance. Luca offered his hand and I grabbed it as we walked into the lit- up building. Stepping in the door, our names were checked off a list.

“Mr. Changretta,” the man smiled. “Good to see you, sir.”

Luca and I walked into the next room, where they took our coats. The huge, two winged door that was next, led us to the ballroom itself. Soft, soothing music was playing, people were drinking and laughing. Everything in the room shimmered. The ceiling was high, and there hung a gorgeous chandelier.

“Oh, this is amazing, Luca.”

“I think I’m rather going to enjoy this,” he spoke. “Sei la donna più bella in questa stanza.” (You are the most beautiful woman in this room.)

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

“E il mio uomo è il più attraente,” I whispered to him, making a cocky smirk appear on his lips.

I felt his hands run over my exposed back. I jumped a little at the coldness of his rings.

“Ci porterò da bere,” (I’ll bring us a drink) he said and slipped away into the crowd. I waited for him just where he left me. I felt the eyes upon me. I saw a man approaching.

“Good evening, beautiful,” he smiled lightly.

“Good evening.”

“Tell me, oh, tell me, what is a beautiful lady like you doing here alone?” he pondered the question theatrically. I rolled my eyes. I hated this cliche. And what if I was alone? Wouldn’t be any of his business.

“I’m not here alone.”

“Well, you sure look like it,” he laughed.

I avoided his eye and tried to find Luca in the loud crowd.

“My husband is here somewhere,” I said. He didn’t look really convinced.

“Until he gets back,” he grinned mischievously, “a dance?”

“No, thank you,” I smiled politely, hoping he would leave me alone.

“Ah, come on. Just one dance.”

“No, thank you,” I said, a little more tense than before.

“But-“

“She said no, I believe,” I heard the voice I had longed to hear. Lucas arms closed protectively around mine.

“Mr. Changretta, sir, I- sorry, I didn’t know-“

“What? You tell me you weren’t familiar with the word ‘no’?” Luca asked coldly. “Or did your mother fail to have taught you manners? Va al diavolo.” (Get lost)

The man ran like an injured dog. I smiled up at my husband sweetly.

“Thank you.”

“Did he touch you, mio caro?”

“No.”

“Lucky for him.”

I caressed his bicep lightly.

“It’s okay, forget him.”

“As you wish, amore. A dance?”

I took his hand as he lead me to the dance floor.

“Si signore,” I giggled.

A few couples were already swaying on the floor when we joined. The slow rhythm flew through my husband and he tried to make me dance - his italian blood made him much better at it than me. He guided my waist and pulled me closer up until the moment there couldn’t be a slice of paper placed between us. It was intimidating: the characteristic smell of him that mixed with my perfume. I wished we could stay like this forever, his long fingers hugging my waist, his nose brushing my forehead as he presses a kiss there.

#luca changretta #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

[thelastemzy]

Me using my blog again for awareness...

Israel just striked a FULL HOSPITAL in Gaza.

A hospital full of doctors, nurses, paramedics, workers, volunteers, injured, waiting people and already dead bodies. Anyone wanna be silent still?

#gaza under attack #gaza strikes #the vampire diaries #anime is not a cartoon #klaus mikealson x reader #luca changretta imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #tvd x reader #wwe x reader #wwe #assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #ezio auditore x reader #humanitarian

[ficmesideways]

Request for Anonymous Gif Source: Dress / Luca

Imagine being Thomas’s twin sister and marrying Luca so he’ll call off the Black Hand and your family will be safe

------- Imagine -------

“I can’t believe I have to marry that bastard.” You said, pulling on the wedding dress with Grace and Polly’s help as your brother sat in the corner. You were unconcerned with his presence in your changing room, you two had been too close growing up and even through the war that you wanted his council more than you wanted privacy.

“It will…everything will be ok sweets. This will keep the peace. He won’t risk hurting you and starting the war again.”

“I know that, Tommy.” You sigh looking down at the beautiful dress that apparently your soon to be husband picked out for you to wear. “I am not worried about being hurt. I just, I know it’s stupid but I always hoped.” You sighed again, gritting your teeth and making sure no tears fell as you turned and looked at your brother and the other women in the room.

Tommy stands and comes to you and places his hand on your shoulders looking into your eyes so similar to his own. “I know you wanted to fall in love, but…maybe…”

You snorted at your brother’s attempt to comfort you, even for implying you could love the Changrretta heir. You patted his arm anyway acknowledging that he at least tried to assuage your regrets. Groaning you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror. “Whose fucked up idea was this anyway.” You mumbled grabbing your bouquet as Tommy headed to the door to precede your exit. Tommy paused at the door and looed back at you. “Didn’t Arthur tell you, it was Luca’s.” He smiled a knowing smile at your shocked face before exiting.

#my imagines #gifs not mine #female reader #tw: arranged marriage #luca changretta imagine #peaky blinders imagine

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Sneak Peek

MASTERLIST || Last Chapter

"Well you know, my mother was a very patient woman. She's never raised her voice except once. I was just a kid back then and saw a magnificent creature in my nonna's garden. It was an albino ferret made of the purest white I had ever seen. " Luca paused and took a sip from his whiskey, his lips curling in a carnivorous grin behind the edge of his glass, "That little thing didn't run away when I approached so I thought it was domesticated. I came nearer, and nearer until I could touch it, which I did... And do you know what the ferret did?" The elegant mafioso put the glass back on the wooden counter so brutally that it would have made you jump if you weren't already on alert. "It bit me. That fucking vermin sunk its sharp teeth into my skin and gave me one nasty bite, so nasty I still have the scar carved deep in my flesh. Nonna rushed me to the hospital, fearing rabies. 'Should have known it though, that fucking sausage rat had a twisted something in its red eyes." The atmosphere suddenly thickened as Luca's charming voice turned into a chilling whisper, "The same vile and twisted something as you, Amore."

✞Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick@kxnnxy @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd

#Arthur Shelby #Arthur Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Arthur Shelby x oc #Paul Anderson #Heaven Shelby #Peaky blinders oc #John Shelby #Polly Gray #Luca Changretta

[zablife]

My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars-Part 1

Luca Changretta x OC (Aurora Sabini Changretta)

Summary: Luca and Aurora Changretta come to the UK to avenge the murder of Luca's brother and father. However, as their volatile marriage unravels, events take an unexpected turn.

Author's Note: This has been on my mind since I created the moodboard ages ago. And it's been requested in several forms, the most recent being a lovely anon who wanted to see Tommy with an American mafia girl. OC Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms. Prequel has been posted as phone calls in two parts here and here. I would def recommend reading that before starting this fic! One more part coming soon!

Warnings: language, domestic violence, mention of blood, use of ethnic slur

☀️🌙✨MASTERLIST

Luca stood pointing at a map with his forefinger, tracing a path from the garden to the center of Arrow House, mumbling in a low voice to his men. Thunder rumbled overhead as Aurora made her way into the room, unnoticed by everyone, skirting the perimeter of the room as she listened carefully. When she’d heard enough she spoke up from the back of the room, voice even and measured to show she was in control as much as her husband. “Non sono d’accordo, Luca.”

Luca’s head shot up as he searched between the faces to find his wife, though he thought he’d caught a hint of her perfume moments earlier, taunting him as he attempted to strategize. 

“It’s too risky to approach him at home again,” Aurora declared, stalking toward the desk with cigarette in hand. The smoke parted the men before her arrival at the table and she stamped out her cigarette a bit too forcefully before joining her husband where he stood. Although she hadn’t been invited to give her opinion, she’d been listening to every word, silently judging the ludicrous plan Luca was suggesting.

“Don’t you remember what the intelligence said about his family? They’re gypsies, fucking savages,” she emphasized. “And he’ll be expecting us this time so he'll have even more protection,” Aurora said with a dismissive shake of her head. Luca’s face and neck reddened at the scolding tone of her voice, his blood boiling instantly at the brazen way she dared to usurp his power.

The air grew thick with their silence and as Aurora’s eyes scanned the room, she noticed not one of the men looked in her direction. They shifted uncomfortably as Luca reached for a matchstick, placing it between gritted teeth.

A low growl emitted before his words, causing everyone to stand at attention once more. “And what would you have me do, tesoro?” he said the pet name without any hint of warmth, but Aurora did not back away. In fact, she stepped closer to her husband, standing just below his shoulder as she placed a hand to his forearm gently. 

“I’m only asking that we consider a few more options,” she said diplomatically. Then she reasoned, “There must be another way to get to Tommy Shelby. His sister’s home in London or perhaps one of his factories. We’ll have to wait for him to come to us this time.”

Luca removed the match from his mouth as she spoke, lighting it and held it perilously close to her face as he taunted, “We smoke him out, principessa? Is that what you want?” he asked moving even closer, the flame in danger of catching her loose curls on fire.

Aurora didn’t blink as she watched the flame dance before her eyes. She could feel the heat close to her skin and her pulse quickened. “Basta cosi!,” she warned with raised eyebrow.

As lightning flashed outside the office window the spell was broken, Luca blew out the match with a dark chuckle. Turning to his men he concluded with a wave of his hand, “You heard my wife.” Then rolling up the map before him with haste he added, “We’ll pick this up tomorrow when everyone’s rested.” Everyone filed out, but Matteo and Enzo remained to ensure nothing else was needed for the evening. Aurora remained at the window as Luca instructed, “Seven o’ clock sharp, you understand?” 

“Yes, boss,” Matteo and Enzo replied, trudging toward their rooms. It was only their second night in England and they had not yet acclimated to the time difference. They felt the exhaustion seeping into their bones, the relentless demands weighing on them heavily. 

Before they could move more than a few steps down the corridor, they heard the shouting begin. As the sound of glass shattering broke the crescendo of voices, Matteo ran a hand down his face, a hint of irritation as he sighed heavily. “Do you have the number for the hospital?” he asked his associate.

Enzo nodded slowly. “And the morgue,” he added solemnly, eyes lingering on the doorknob. He didn’t want to listen to the distinct sounds of Luca’s blows striking the object of his ire or Aurora’s muffled cries, but he would have to stand watch until it was over to know how to proceed. 

Luca tired easily tonight and Aurora limped from the suite thirty minutes later, hair disheveled to hide the bruise forming across her cheekbone. She fell once, picking herself up from the hard wooden floor with a sniffle and Matteo and Enzo turned from her as though they hadn’t seen her in ruin, a familiar routine of make believe.

“Let’s get some fucking sleep,” Matteo said when she disappeared into a separate room.

Enzo had just closed the door to his room and kicked off his shoes when the phone began to ring.

“Enzo, what’s going on? Luca hasn’t phoned,” Mr. Sabini grumbled.

“Luca’s been…working on strategy,” Enzo fumbled, thinking of the fight he’d just witnessed. He didn’t dare mention it to Aurora’s father though. Out of everyone who knew of their tumultuous marriage, Antonio Sabini was somehow unaware of his daughter’s plight. 

As if on cue, Antonio asked, “How’s Aurora?” 

Enzo gulped as he thought of a reply. “You know, she’s got her ideas,” he said truthfully.

“That’s my little girl!,” Antonio answered proudly. "She's got a sharp mind and she's good under pressure!" he boasted. "Mark my words, Enzo, this vendetta will end as quickly as it started now that Luca has my Aurora by his side. She won't lose any of our men either because she's much more delicate than he is with these affairs you see. Luca's always been too temperamental," he mused.

"Yeah," Enzo agreed quietly, hoping Mr. Sabini was right.

“Keep me informed. I want to know everything,” Antonio said sternly. “And keep Aurora out of danger if it comes to that.”

“Yes, sir,” Enzo reluctantly agreed, unsure how he was going to keep the promise. 

“And Enzo, buy her blue hydrangeas tomorrow,” Antonio ordered. “They’re her favorite. I don’t want her feeling homesick,” he added softly, the fondness of a memory seeping into his voice and making it much quieter than before.

“Of course,” Enzo said, replacing the heavy receiver in the cradle and falling into bed, only to be awoken an hour later by the sounds of lovemaking in the room next door.

—————————————-

At seven the next morning, Aurora entered Luca’s office, smiling to herself as she held a large bouquet in her arms. All the men in the room turned to drink in the sight of her glamour, a trait that lived on in her from her exceptionally beautiful mother. Enzo and Matteo exchanged knowing glances as they traced the lines of her face, noting how talented she’d become at hiding the swelling and bruises. 

Although it sickened them to watch, she bent low to capture Luca’s mouth in a tender kiss, pulling away to breath a near silent “mi dispiace” against his lips. For reasons known only to her and Luca, they always fell back into each other’s arms. It was as predictable as the rising sun.

“I know you are, baby,” he replied, turning her out of his lap. 

“Grazie, amore,” she said sweetly holding up the flowers and stroking his cheek adoringly.

Luca knitted his brow, a hint of confusion noticeable, before he glanced up at his wife with a smug grin. “Of course, sweetheart. If you’ll excuse us, there’s business this morning and I think you had your say last night.”

Aurora nodded obediently and went to put the flowers in water as though in a trance. As soon as the door had shut behind her, Luca’s expression changed to a deep grimace. “Which one of you assholes got flowers for my wife?” He leaned forward onto his elbows, awaiting an answer.

Soon Enzo spoke up with a slight tremble in his voice. “It was me, but it wasn’t because of last night, Luca.”

Luca narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“Her father asked me to get ‘em,” Enzo clarified with a slight cough, suddenly remembering his lines in the play they were subconsciously rehearsing at any given moment.

“Figlio di puttana!” Luca said, smacking the desk with his palm. “He spoiled her and now look how she acts!”  He shook his head with an indignant scoff, turning to look out the window. “Thank God she married a man like me to keep her in her place, right?”

———————————————

“We aren’t in Darby’s territory any more. Where are we going, Luca?,” Aurora asked as the car bumped along the narrow roads. Luca turned to look out the window as though he didn’t hear, second guessing his decision to bring his wife along to the negotiations with the mad baker of Camden Town. However, Aurora would not be ignored. She had played the dutiful wife for weeks so as not to insult his manhood further, but every attempt at moving closer to Tommy Shelby had failed, resulting in multiple casualties. To make matters worse, every man lost was a member of her own family, brought from New York to aid the Changrettas in their vendetta. The idea of losing more men sickened her and she began to consider the possibility that she would have to challenge her husband once more.

Then Luca spoke up, but he only offered a sliver of information. “We’re on our way to Camden Town, alright?” he said before settling back into his seat with a sigh.

Aurora was raised at her father’s elbow watching the deals he made and how he researched his enemies. However, there were things she’d learned on her own as a result of being the only woman in a room full of men. How you had to demure and make them think an idea had been their own. She’d learned the art of manipulation and weaponized it early on as a means of survival. Today called for such an approach.

“An alliance with the Jews? That’s clever,” she praised, hoping her guess was correct. Running a hand along his knee seductively, she waited for Luca to confirm her suspicions.

Luca turned to face his wife, a surprised look on his face. “And how do you know about Alfie Solomons?” 

“He’s connected to the east Boston Jews. But, Darby knows him, of course. Says he’s unpredictable and violent,” Aurora added wearily.

She watched the muscles in Luca’s jaw tighten beneath the shadow of his fedora, knowing he didn’t like Aurora involving herself. Rubbing two fingers against his chin thoughtfully, he dismissed her concern. “I’ve spoken to your father and he approves. That’s all you need to know,” Luca said firmly.

“I wish you would tell me more about today,” she cajoled.

“No, amore. Not this time,” Luca said, clasping his large fingers over her gloved hand and giving her a squeeze that bordered on painful reprimand.

As the car jerked to a stop in front of a dilapidated building in Camden Town, she turned to her husband and took once last desperate chance as they exited the vehicle. “Luca, let me speak to Mr. Solomons. A woman’s touch to the negotiations might be just the thing to keep him from erupting,” she said innocently.

This infuriated Luca and he pulled her back, making her stumble on the rough cobblestones. “Like hell you will. This is my deal!” he spat.

“That concerns my family name and my blood!” Aurora retaliated, batting at his chest with her fists, unable to control herself further.

Luca’s eyes blazed with fury, striking her with full force and causing her to fall to the ground. Landing on rough stone, she sliced her arm as she hit, immaculate clothing ruined in the filthy street.

“Get the fuck up,” Luca commanded through clenched teeth.

Aurora winced involuntarily as she pushed her body forward, feeling the pain in her arm throb as soon as he placed weight onto her hand and blood trickle from her nose. “Vaffanculo!” she yelled, placing her fingertips to her chin and thrusting them toward him. 

Luca leaned down and dragged her to her feet, fingers digging into her flesh as he swore, "You make any more trouble for me and I swear to God you'll die here, Aurora. No one will know the difference if I tell them the Shelbys did it," he hissed in her ear as a small woman with dark hair appeared before them. 

“Can I help you with something?” she asked, looking the couple up and down, hands on her hips with more authority than someone her size ought to have. 

Luca released his wife immediately, straightening her clothes as he painted on a charming smile. “She fell on the cobblestones,” he explained smoothly. “I’m here to see Alfie Solomons. Is he in?” he inquired as he stepped forward, seeming to forget his wife in distress.

“Depends on whose asking,” the woman replied, glancing at Aurora with concern. 

Luca removed his hat as he introduced himself. “I’m Luca Changretta,” he said, extending a hand.

Thoroughly unimpressed by his charisma, the tiny woman tilted her head at him. “And who is she?” 

Luca coughed to cover his embarrassment. “This is my wife, Aurora. She’ll be staying outside,” he said with a pointed look at his wife, who stood, cradling her arm.

“If you want to see my husband, I insist this woman come in as well. She requires medical attention,” Rose said sternly. 

“If you insist,” Luca said, pursing his lips. 

“I insist,” the woman said with a definitive nod. “I’m Rose Solomons, Alfie’s wife. Come in,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Darling,” Luca said with a sneer, extending his arm toward Aurora.

Aurora pushed past him and followed Rose inside. Luca followed two steps behind, removing a match from his pocket and chewing it ferociously. He didn’t like being humiliated by the Solomons woman and made a mental note to make Alfie pay dearly for it.

As Luca was shown to Alfie’s office, Rose took Aurora to a separate part of the distillery. Her interest was peaked now that she’d witnessed something between husband and wife that felt unsavory. The Solomons’ liked to make it their business to know everything about their associates and this felt like something worth noting.

———————

Rose expected someone quite different from the woman she was meeting today. She’d heard Aurora Changretta was a tigress, someone who never gave an inch to her enemies. However, the woman who stood before her bloodied and broken was not in a position to argue. She might listen to the plea on Rose’s lips so she began in earnest.

As Rose handed over a flannel dipped in cool water, she admitted what she wanted. “I’ll be blunt, Mrs. Changretta. My Alfie has cancer. He’s riddled with it. The doctors say it’s probably from the gas during the war,” she explained with furrowed brow as though she didn’t understand or believe the words that came from her lips. However, Aurora knew them to be true. They were the admission of someone who loved deeply and had not yet come to terms with an imminent loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Aurora responded. “But I don’t see how I can help,” she admitted.

Rose cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, rising to her full height. “You can get that man out there to go home. Leave us in peace for the days we have left,” she asserted.

Aurora bit her lip to keep a bitter laugh from escaping. Instead she just shook her head. Taking a deep breath she turned to Rose and spoke slowly to make the other woman realize her predicament. “You think I tell him the ways of the world? No, he doesn’t answer to me,” she admitted, dabbing at her wounds. “He has very little use for me these days,” Aurora admitted in a soft whisper.

"I thought your family ran New York?" Rose asked slightly confused.

"And now it's my husband so you see we're bound," Aurora replied with a look of resolve.

Rose took in the sight before her, bruises covered by layers of make up, bones badly healed over time. The limp when she walked inside and the arm she cradled gingerly now. This was a woman who knew suffering and yet there was tenacity in her hazel eyes that couldn't be denied. It was this strength Rose appealed to now.

“You’d die by his hand? Because that’s where you’re headed, love,” Rose warned, recalling her own difficult past. “Won’t you try?”

Aurora paused for a moment, a trickle of bloody water running down her elbow as she washed. This went against everything Aurora had ever been taught. You never spoke against your family, no matter what happened. Her parents ingrained that in her at an early age. However, her parents’ marriage had been one based on love and respect. No matter how many times they reconciled, she and Luca did not carry the same affection.

As she sat in the damp distillery, listening to the distant sound of machinery, she thought of her future with Luca and his intention to crush her beneath him became abundantly clear. He didn’t care for her as he once did. When the money and the resources were gone, he would dispose of her.

Finally Aurora mumbled one word into the darkness of the small room, keeping her voice low in case Luca was nearby. “How?”

Rose inhaled a sharp breath, chin rising suddenly with renewed hope to meet Aurora’s wide eyes, full of questions and doubt. She knew how hard it would be to ask this of kind of trust from a stranger, but if she could convince her to take the first step, the rest would fall into place.

“We get you to Tommy Shelby,” Rose said confidently.

Aurora shook her head violently. “No, please. He’ll kill me.”

“He won’t. He’s not Luca,” Rose promised, rushing the rest of her speech for fear Aurora might bolt in fear. “This vendetta was started by the Changrettas and your husband is using your family to fund his war. Now he’s asking my husband to help. It won’t stop unless we say so. We can stop him, Aurora. Will you join me?” Rose asked, reaching for Aurora’s bloodied hand.

Aurora’s lip trembled thinking of crossing Luca, but she had had enough. If there was one thing her father taught her it was to fight for her own interests and she knew she still had fight within her. 

“Yes, I’ll help you,” Aurora agreed on a shaky breath, reaching for Rose.

“We’ll protect you, I promise,” Rose said, intertwining her fingers with Aurora’s stained fingertips. The blood that tainted her would soon be washed clean.

————————————

It had taken another week and several clandestine phone calls before Aurora could steal away to meet Rose. She’d convinced Luca that she needed medicine for her cuts and he allowed her to leave the hotel though she knew she didn’t have long. Rose knew a man who could help them meet in neutral territory, but it would be brief as Luca sent someone to watch over Aurora whenever she left. With that in mind, Aurora stole away one afternoon wondering if this was all a mistake.

The bell above the door of the chemist rang out and Aurora took a deep breath, scanning the small shop for Rose. The tiny woman stood in the corner, observing a box as though she were another patron and when she spied Aurora she beckoned to her. Aurora felt her heart thundering in her chest as she followed Rose through a narrow doorway, descending a dark staircase. However, it was far too late to reconsider and she marched ahead with as much courage as she could muster.

Aurora soon found herself face to face with Tommy Shelby who paced the length of a small, dimly lit room. She knew him instantly from photographs and descriptions of his deep blue eyes like two pools that could drown you if you stared too long. The moment she entered, she was mesmerized by him.

“You killed my wife,” Tommy said, a stillness coming over his features when he caught sight of his enemy. Aurora sucked in a breath, recognizing the inherent danger facing her. Violent men all had the same deceiving comportment, a snake coiled and ready to strike. 

“Tommy, please....” Rose interjected in a pleading tone, willing the meeting to continue. Rose glanced at Aurora and noticed a visible change in her demeanor, a hardening of her exterior as she refused to show any kind of weakness.

“Luca killed your wife. I only tried to kill you,” Aurora said defiantly, head held high.

A moment of silence passed as Tommy considered Aurora. Then she spoke again, "You misunderstand, Mr. Shelby. I'm trying to end this. It was never my fight," she said softly, feeling the weight of every life lost in service to her and the family.

“If this wasn’t your fight, why the fuck are you supplying your husband enough money and soldiers to overthrow the British empire, love?” Tommy countered.

“Loyalty. I hear that you’re like me when it comes to your family, Mr. Shelby. You would do anything to protect them. I didn’t agree with my husband, but I promised to protect him….”

“Do you honestly think he’d do the same for you?,” Tommy asked, blue eyes icing over to match the chill in his voice. He knew he was being cruel, but he had to test her in this moment to see if she would crumble.

“I have no illusions about our marriage,” Aurora confided on a low breath. She forced herself to make eye contact as she said, “That's why I'm here. Rose told me you might be willing to strike a bargain.”

Tommy scoffed, turning away from Aurora and she worried what she’d been told about his mercy was false. 

“Fucking hell, Tommy. She’s here and she’s willing to talk. Isn’t that enough?” Rose asked.

Tommy turned with a look of warning, “Alright, give him up.”

“What?” Aurora asked.

“Give up your husband and we’ll call it even,” Tommy demanded.

Aurora swallowed harshly, considering the choices at her disposal. Stay and see more bloodshed or end it with one final betrayal. It took only a fraction of a second to see the choice she had to make. 

“An ambush,” Aurora agreed quietly, fixing her gaze on Tommy. “But we have to make Luca think you aren’t expecting him. That he can take the shot.”

A smug look came over Tommy's handsome face. "You are as ruthless as they say, aren't you?" he commented. Then just as suddenly the amusement in his features disappeared and he turned stone faced once more. “How do I know I can trust you?” Tommy asked.

Aurora began to laugh bitterly.

“That’s fucking funny to you?” Tommy asked.

Aurora shook her head as a tear fell from her cheek, the enormity of her decision causing her to fall into a momentary fit of insanity. “He married me and he saw cashmere, cologne, red racing cars…All I wanted was love. It wasn't supposed to be like this,” she sniffed as she looked away from him, trying to catch her breath and regain composure. She pushed the pain away and felt her anger rise up in its place, “I just want out, you understand? I want out from under him," she confided, her whole body beginning to shake. 

Rose approached her and covered her with her shawl. “It’s alright, Aurora. You’re going to be alright,” she promised, looking to Tommy.

“Artillery Square, two days time,” he said with a satisfactory nod. 

------------------------------

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Luca Changretta #Luca Changretta x OC #Tommy Shelby x OC #Luca Changretta x fanfic #Luca Changretta imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine

[anonymooseforever007]

The Proposal

(Technically Pre!Luca Changretta x female Shelby reader)

Summery: Despite the assumption of many others Thomas Shelby didn't like unnecessary bloodshed and neither did Luca Changretta. So before a full out gang war could begin, they came up with a plan to make peace between the families.....And obviously the best plan they could come up with was an arranged marriage. And even more obviously not everyone one was pleased....namely the bride.

A/N: Hi Y'all! No trigger warnings other than usually Peaky Language and discussion of arranged marriage. Y/N is furious. Luca isn't in this one but he's technically the groom so....I wrote this purely to prequel another part I'm still writing! Also this is technically S4ish but it breaks away from cannon and is my idea of how a Shelby sister may react if Tommy tried to marry her off to prevent the vendetta! Enjoy❤️!

WC- 1.5k

Main Masterlist Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked into the Shelby Company Limited, waving and exchanging happy greetings with those who offered them. Lizzie looked at you as you approached her desk. 

"Hi Lizzie! How have you been today? I absolutely love your dress today, the color is brilliant! You wouldn't happen to know if my brothers are in would you?"

Lizzie smiled, "Hello Y/N. Thanks, I got it at this new shop. I can give you the address of the store later if you'd like. I've been alright, your brothers are planning something though. Been in since this morning I've got no clue what it is though."

"Ohh that would be perfect! Thanks. It was, as always, nice seeing you," you nodded pleasantly to your friend as you started to move to the private office. "Oh and Lizzie? I'm sorry about the noise,"

"Wha..."

"THOMAS MICHAEL SHELBY!!! I WILL STRIP YOUR FUCKING BALLS AND USE THEM AS SKIPPING STONES!!"

The entire betting shop went deathly silent as the you stormed in, heading straight into your brother's office. Slamming the door behind, you ignored everyone else in the room and went directly for your target, grabbing him by his collar to bring his face closer to your attacking fist. 

Unfortunately you, and luckily for him, Arthur and John had just barely managed to grab you by the waist and drag you back a few steps before your fist could make contact. Unluckily for them, you turned your wrath another way, practically jumping in the air to land a foot of yours on each of theirs, before dragging them both forward so their heads collided with a hard thud. Both men groaned while you made another break for your older brother. This time he was expecting it and grabbed you in a hold that would be harder to escape. Your hands were trapped between your two bodies and Tommy had one arm around your back, preventing you from pulling back. He'd even managed to wrap one on his legs tightly around the back of yours to prevent any attacks aimed in "softer areas". If someone hadn't heard your words previously, it may have even looked like he was hugging you. And not just that, but hugging the way Charlie liked to do whenever you saw him, wrapped as tightly around you as possibly, keeping you from moving away. And while you absolutely adored such cuddles with your young nephew, this was most certainly not like those times. 

The entire company seemed to be frozen in silence waiting for what would happen next. Those outside the office listened for the sounds of more yelling of even the possible shot of a gun. And those in the office looked on at the brother and sister locked tensely together, seeming to have a ferocious conversation without a single word. The furious glare you were giving Tommy would make any man question himself, but your brother only met your glare with an equally strong stare of his own. 

Then with an annoyed sigh you finally relaxed in your brother's arms. You looked at your captor with a raised eyebrow signalling to him that this is the part where he lets you go. Tightening his grip slightly, Tommy raised an eyebrow of his own. 

"Are you done?"

".....Yes."

"Really?"

".....Yes."

"You're not gonna shout anymore?"

"....Yes."

"You won't punch me?"

".....Yes."

"You gonna apologize to John and Arthur?"

"No."

"Alright," he concluded, finally relaxing enough to let you step back from his grip. 

...

...

You lied...

It was mere seconds later when Tommy's head was turned to the side with an echoing smack. His glasses cracked when they hit the other side of the room. You started to bat your hands at any brother trying to approach you.

"How fucking dare you!!! FIRST of all: sending Finn, FUCKING FINN, OUR BABY BROTHER, MY FINN to tell me because you don't have the balls to do it yourself! I was so worried when he came looking like he was going to throw up, you fucking bastards!! I thought he was hurt or someone died because he was so FUCKING anxious. But NO! He thought that I was going to STOP LOVING HIM because he was the one who had to tell me about your little WEDDING PLAN! DING DONG RING THE FUCKING WEDDING BELLS," you spat venomously, thinking of the absolutely miserable look on your youngest brother's face as he came to see you only an hour ago. Apparently, your other brothers thought if he was the only to break the news of your impending engagement you'd take it willingly, maybe even happily if it came from your favorite sibling. And to be fair, from him you had. You knew it wasn't his idea and given the fact he honesty looked like he was going to cry possibly, thinking you'd hate him forever because of his message. Like it was him who signed your death warrant. No, for Finn and only him you'd taken the news calmly, telling him it was alright and you'd didn't hate him. Reassuring him once again you loved him, and that he could come to you for anything at all anytime and that you also wanted him home by midnight; you'd left him with a tight hug, quick kiss on the side of his head, and some money to take the sweet girl he'd been talking with to the movies....

Then you set out for your older brothers....

Now here you were, giving them your real opinions which they hoped Finn would soften the brute of.

"AND on that note! Who THE FUCK are you? THINKING YOU THINK YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING RIGHT TO MARRY ME OFF FOR YOUR LITTLE PISSING PARTY," your volume increasing as you raged, while dodging around your brothers to climb on Tommy's' desk so you could yell at them without being cut off as easily. "JUST BECAUSE YOUR LITTLE BIRD BRAINS ONLY UNDERSTANDS PLANS INVOLVING FIGHTING AND FUCKING DOESN'T MEAN THEY'RE WHAT YOU SHOULD USE!!," John yelped as you stomped on his hand trying to grab your ankle to pull you off the desk. "I!! I WILL NOT BE USED IN ONE OF YOUR SHITTY LITTLE SCHEMES TO MAKE PEACE BECAUSE YOU MEN FUCKED SOMETHING UP AGAIN!! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME! I AM NOT SOME BARGAINING CHIP TO BE BET IN YOUR GAMBLING GAME," you kicked Tommy's stapler backwards towards Arthur's head as he tried to grab you from behind. "I WILL WORK WHERE I WANT. I WILL LIVE WHERE I WANT. MEET WHO I WANT. FIGHT WHO I WANT. AND FUCK WHO I WANT!! DO YOU YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!"

Again the room was silent as you and Tommy stared at each other. You from on top of his desk holding his empty whiskey glass, ready to throw, and him right in front, a bright red handprint blooming in his pale skin. Tommy opened his mouth to speak and you opened yours, still angry and ready to refute whatever he said. But then Tommy raised his arms in peace and took a few steps back slowly, keeping his eyes on yours in a show of surrender. 

"Alright. Alright Y/N we've heard what you have to say..."

"Don't fucking patronize me Tommy. I'm not a fucking horse you can calm or sell on a whim," you refuted, sighing as the fight finally left you. You were still furious yes, but you were tired of yelling. It wasn't something you did often and even now you were really only doing it to keep yourself from hitting your brother again. He couldn't listen to you if he was unconscious. Still moving forward with his arms slightly raised Tommy tried again.

"Alright," Tommy repeated raising one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose like he did when he was stressed. Sure he expected you to be mad, you had even been pissed when he arranged John's marriage with Esme, and you adored the women as much if not more than John himself did. He knew your feelings on marrying for Love and not business and to be fair he didn't disagree. And even if it made him slightly sick to think of having to do this, a pact bound with marriage was the only was Luca would agree to reconsider the black hands.

'A bond thorough blood bound or blood spilled' those were his words.

"I get you're angry Y/N. And I'm sorry it had to be this way," Tommy spoke firmly but vaguely, and there was almost a slight pleading there, ask if he was asking you to let it go just this once. As if he was asking you to grab his jacket instead of tie yourself to a man you'd never met. "But you don't understand the situation we're in." Tommy moved to grab one of the papers you'd knocked off the desk in your ranting. He reached up to hand it to and you grabbed it before staring at it for a moment processing what was before you. And for some reason you couldn't explain but that paper was all it took for your anger to return full force. Who at kind of death threat even was this?

"YOU EXPECT ME TO GET MARRIED TO A STRANGER BECAUSE OF A FUCKING FINGER PAINTING?!"

....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

Main Masterlist

#Peaky Blinders #Peaky blinders imagine #luca changretta #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta imagine #peaky blinders x reader #shelby!reader #shelby!sister