#luca changretta x you

[mlmxreader]

Alfie Solomons is the type to be an absolute teddy bear w his s/o, just completely and utterly soft w them but also not shy from telling them that he loves them; but he's also never gonna be shy abt having banter w them, either, even if it seems "mean" to outsiders, as long as he knows it'll make his s/o laugh he'll say anything.

but Luca Changretta is the type to be all suave and smooth w his s/o, constantly flirting w them and giving them little touches on their neck and arms bc he knows it makes them all flustered; he'd shower them in gifts and lavish clothes, just completely spoiling them whenever he can and wherever he can. but he's also so, so sweet - always whispering sweet nothings to them and kissing them whenever he gets the chance.

#alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons #luca Changretta x reader #luca changretta x you #luca changretta #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Animal - A Luca Changretta/Reader One Shot Story.

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

Words - 2,380

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that my insatiable Italian? 

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

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

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

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

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

“You called?”  

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

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

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

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

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

You’d expect nothing less.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But...” 

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

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

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

“Luca, I...” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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."

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@red-riding-wood

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@helen06dreamer

@chaosinkest1996

@thegreatdragonfruta

@pietroxreader

@galactict3a

@ietss

@mostly-marvel-musings

@justlulu

@cillmequick

@darklydeliciousdesires

@the-wise-old-elf

@justrainandcoffee

@call-sign-shark

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

[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

[justlulu]

Behind your back

<Put a cock in her mouth and a gun in her hand.>

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Shelbey!sister

Warnings: manipulation, use of gun (kind of?), smut

Anon asked: “LUCA X SHELBY SISTER SMUT PLEASEEEE just imagine youngest shelby sister oc sneaking behind her brothers back to fuck the enemy ugh perfect.”

When you’re lucid, you suspect Luca doesn’t even like you, and that he’s doing it just to spit it in Tommy’s face at the right moment.

He’s arrogant, proud and selfish by nature, but this has a stronger meaning. It almost feels like fucking thy enemy himself, and it gives him a rush he doesn’t want to give up on.

When you look at him, moaning so sweetly for him, clenching down on his cock in a grip so tight you almost push him out, chanting his name like a prayer, with those eyes that are Tommy’s eyes, he sees a triumph.

Even if he looses, he’s won, because he’s quite literally taken a Shelby, and the most precious of them all. Undressing you satisfies him more than pulling the trigger on his worst enemy. And what makes his chest burst with pride is that you let him, and not just that. You wait for him, kiss him, want him; you press your naked body on his still clothed one, rub and purr on him like a kitten begging for attention. He gets hard instantly.

He sees right through your needs, and uses them right.

But even if that’s true, would you be able to get away?

He has something about him that fascinates you, but you can’t quite grasp what it is.

Is it just the looks? There is no denying he is not a man you can glance at once and forget. Is it the fine clothes? Probably the hair, or the way he walks like he owns every street.

He touches you like he owns you, too. You turn putty in his hands as his fingers play with your body, drawing imaginary masterpieces of art all over your skin, pinching your tender nipples hard enough to watch you frown and whimper. Some things almost hurt, but you never refuse him. He loves how you accept the pain and the pleasure, as long as he is the giver. You will simply lay there and mewl as he rubs, stretches and sucks, a smug grin on his lips as he watches you arch and contort under his ministrations.

He loves to look at your face while he takes you, but sometimes he maneuvers your limbs and has you on your hands and knees. And when he does, he will occasionally provide a few strikes on your buttocks, which make you startle and cause a sting and a redness that will remain for a couple of days. You find it exiting, and even if you didn’t, you would not protest but wait anxiously for him to soothe you as he holds you in his arms later.

Some things, you don’t understand; like the time he talked about wanting to take all of your holes, and you were perplexed until one of his long fingers slid between your cheeks and poked at your asshole, making you gasp at the suggestion. He doesn’t pressure you into it, not directly at least, but he’s noticeably more affectionate when he talks you through it.

He loves showing you things you never knew, his perverse thoughts enjoy the idea of him initiating a young soul into the world.

He corrupted you. You are too blind to see it yourself, but for an outside spectator it is clear as day. He saw a sweet, innocent girl, put a cock in her mouth and a gun in her hand.

He wouldn’t let you pull the trigger when you first asked him, said it was too dangerous and not made for you, and that was a thought he shared with all of your brothers. The only one, as the rest of his thoughts about you required you being stark naked and very much close to his penis.

But he accepted letting you hold his personal gun without shooting, and after secretly unloading it. You sit on his bed giggling and he sits behind you; legs still entangled and partially covered by the white sheets, you let him adjust your posture and maneuver your fingers around the handle. His hands cover yours, and so you take your aim like that, with his chin resting on your shoulder, your arms slightly trembling at the weight of the weapon.

A perverse thought crosses his mind. He lowers his arms, yours inevitably following, and proceeds slipping the piece of iron from your grasp and letting it travel on your front, until it reaches your throat and points up to raise your chin towards him. He smirks when you don’t move.

How he wishes his enemy could see it, the way you lay so comfortably in his arms, letting his hand roam freely on your pliant body and squeeze your breasts before traveling between your legs, even widening them for him before he’s reached the spot to grant him an easier access, all while his other hand traces your face with a deathly object.

You’re not afraid. He doesn’t even know if you should be, because yes, your name is still on his list, but he shivers at the thought.

He looks at your sleeping form, your body still hot and sweaty from your activities, but peaceful. He touches your lips, and an image of your face, blue lips, pale and cold, flashes before his eyes.

You don’t wake up as he takes you in his arms and holds you close, nor when his lips press on your forehead and then the tip of your nose. Your complete trust in him evokes a sudden urge to protect, to care, to earn it. It’s pure, and so sincere it makes him want to cry.

He sighs. He’s gotta go over his plan.

**********

A./N. Literally my first request. I realized there’s absolutely no dialogue when I finished it, but I’m gonna post it anyway otherwise it will take another month lol. I’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you asked for (whoever you is), hope you can enjoy still!💕

xoxo- L

#luca changretta imagine #luca changretta fluff #luca changretta x you #luca changretta smut #daddy!lucachangretta #daddy!kink #gun!kink #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders #bbc peaky blinders #luca changretta #italian mafia

[nymphastoriasblog]

AGING WITH MODERN!LUCA CHANGRETTA

since i love him so much, i was daydreaming about luca as an old man...

warnings: luca changretta

pairing: modern!luca changretta x afab!reader

requested by: none

nymphastoria’s masterlist

buy the chaotic author a coffee ☕️

gif by: @darkcrystals

as soon as you got married, luca made it clear he wanted kids, and a lot of them

it was his biggest joy to come home and see the house crowded with his children

and he would always, ALWAYS, ask them for a welcome hug

luca was always a very affective father. no matter how grownup his children were, he would always be very lovely with each of them

and very understanding too.

if you had daughters, they would always come to luca to cry about their boyfriends. he would listen patiently and give them his bests advices, cheering them up

“i don’t want to see you crying for him, ok?” “you’re everything for me, don’t let a boy dict your value”

luca would bring every so often small gifts for you. he would keep it hidden on his briefcase until it’s your bedtime.

and your smile would make everything worth it for him.

luca always kept his business out of the house, and he would left the business for his nephews and cousins. he didn’t want this future for your kids.

luca was very emotional when the first kid went to college. he mourned for a long time.

of course, your child wouldn’t step into the college if luca hadn’t pay for them a nice apartment downtown, give them an adorable car and paid most of the college’s fees.

something you always admired in luca was how devoted he was on his family. he genuinely wanted every of his children to succeed and have a good future. that was the reason he worked so much.

when the youngest kid moved out, luca was devastated. he would go to their bedroom and stare at the plushies for minutes, even hours, and he would be so disturbed by the silence in your house.

shortly after, he got “retired”, because he would now spend more time at home.

you were used to have children around you all the time, but having luca around was the same as having a baby.

not because he wanted attention, but because he would make a mess wherever he passed by. leaving a track of chaos and frustration.

it started when he wanted to build a birdhouse for the garden. luca decided he would make it in his mahogany desk.

you could hear him cursing in italian under his breath. he gave up on this project a few days after beginning it.

after the birdhouse fiasco, he decided your garden was needing a small pond.

luca was really excited about it. and it really went well.

he placed the rocks around the pond, make a little fountain to keep the water running and bought ornamental fishes to put in it.

you gladly did the decor, putting flowers around and a few crystals.

after lunch, luca would place a chair in your patio and would watch birds coming to the pond to drink the water and bath. he would sit there and look at his creation proudly.

he walked each of his daughters to the aisle with a big and proud smile, followed with teary eyes, with tears of joy.

when your first grandchild was born, luca was over the stars.

during your daughter/daughter-in-law’s pregnancy, luca was around them all the time. he would provide them anything they needed.

during the labor, luca was the first one to arrive in the hospital.

he would be the type of granddad to spoil the kid when the parents aren’t looking. like giving them a candy before lunch, or when they would spent the night at your house, luca would let them watch tv until late night.

he taught italian to his grandkids as they were growing up. at some time, he would stop speaking english at all around them, just to stimulate their italian.

luca absolutely ADORED it when you had family gatherings and when the whole family would be together for a holiday. it was his favorite parts of the year.

when you got more older, luca bought a beach house in another state. you’d spent part of the year in the beach house, just enjoying each other company, retelling stories and gossiping about people you know.

as older as he’s got, luca would be meaner while gossiping. he would slay people with his words, and that would got you laughing endlessly.

all luca wished was granted.

he’d pass away first. it would be peacefully, with his family around his bed, and you holding his hands. he would say a few things before, like how proud he was of his family, how much he loved each of you and how everything was worth it.

after his passing, the family kept together. everyone very close, just like how he wanted. your kids were well raised.

#luca changretta blurb #luca changretta #luca changretta dialogue #luca changretta headcanon #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta x y/n #luca changretta x you #modern!luca changretta #peaky blinders imagine #adrien brody #peaky blinders #peaky blinders masterlist #peaky fookin blinders

[bianddumb]

chibification succeeded ✨

#I HAD SM FUN DOING THESE YOU HAVE NO IDEA #bianddumb art #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #chibi art #cute chibi #alfie solomons #luca changretta #sholomons #tofie #alfie x tommy #tommy x luca #alfie x tommy x luca

[agentidiot]

no but hear me out. alfie/tommy/luca.

#do you guys think it can work? #ne honest #i think as a fuck buddies it might #agent shitpost #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #luca changretta #tommy x alfie #tommy x luca

[serendipitiashelby]

Serendipitia | Thomas Shelby fanfic MOODBOARD

SINOPSE No período do pós-guerra, Noemi Stein retorna à Birmingham, onde retoma seu elo com Ada Shelby, também sua aliada política no perigoso movimento sufragista. Compartilhando um pequeno sobrado pelas apertadas ruelas de Small Heath, passam a planejar a abertura da primeira livraria da região. Entre ideias eufóricas (e necessidade de dinheiro para financiar o imóvel), Ada leva Noemi a uma grande festividade da família Shelby. É ali que Noemi conhece, pelo encanto dos encontros fortuitos e inesperados,

onde, pelo poder da serendipidade, encontraria aquele que

um amor que nunca estaria escrito nos livros da futura livraria. Er

LEIA NO WATTPAD

MOODBOARD

#thomasshelby #cillianmurphy #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #ada shelby #arthur shelby #polly gray #luca changretta #john shelby #shelby family

[rysko]

Kings of Spades - Part 4 l Luca Changretta x M!OC

Summary: Juliusz is stuck in a limbo of not being useful enough to Tommy and, to his inner dismay, impatiently awaiting any 'orders' from the Italians. That changes when he visits a work colleague...

Previous Chapter

Warnings: mentions of drug usage, Peaky-typical swearing and violence, minor death

A/N: It's heeeeere!!! This chapter went through SO. MANY. rewrites. It's mostly a set up for the next few chapters (i cannot wait to share them with yall, there's so many scenes i've been waiting to write :>) I hope ya'll like it. Have fun!

(the occasional use of Polish/Italian will be translated at the end of the chapter, while Polish will be directly translated by me, Italian is with the use of google translate, so sorry if there's any mistakes)

It was a slow morning in the Small Heath office. At this hour, only a few people were clocked in. Thomas and Juliusz, on account of being known early birds (or insomniacs for that matter), were already at their respectful places, getting the first points off their to-do lists. Curly visited for a short while, but only to update Thomas on a newly birthed foal.

“A really nice horse, I’m telling you, Tommy! The beautiful reddish coat she has, and nice strong legs!” He rambles on as both he and Tommy exit his office and walk by Juliusz, assembling some files at the main entrance desk.

“That’s good Curly.” Thomas smiles ever-so-slightly.

“We’re thinking of naming her John, as a tribute.” Curly looks at Thomas in anticipation, clearly more excited than anyone else.

“...How nice.” Thomas chokes back a laugh, glancing at Juliusz in an almost ‘help me’ look. The Pole isn’t having any of it.

“It’s not like the horse cares, unless you’ll call her Esme?” Juliusz smirks at Thomas, then proceeds to throw a small smile in Curlys’ direction.

“Then she’ll come back and butcher us before the Italians do.” Thomas sighs through his cigarette, clearly fighting off a smile. It’s nice to see just a bit of tension ease, especially after yesterday. Thomas damn near interrogated Juliusz after his ‘truce’ meeting with Changretta, only to be left disappointed, and somehow even more paranoid, after he learned that no crucial information has been found out.

He’d never admit it, but some part of Juliusz impatiently waited on a call from the Italians. Where he was right now was a limbo, overwhelmed with emotions from the evening before, mixed with the tense atmosphere of Small Heath all wrapped in… Uncertainty. He didn’t know anything of importance to Tommy, and Changretta was as enigmatic as ever in letting Juliusz know his use. He shook his head to snap himself back into reality as he opened yet another novel-length document from the worker unions, despite his thoughts going everywhere but labour disputes. 

There’s still work to do. He doesn’t need to be glancing at the telephone every minute.

With Curly leaving the office in an almost giddy step, Thomas turns to go back to his duties. With a raise of a heavy document, Juliusz stops him.

“What will you do about Jesse Eden?” The lawyer repeats, it might as well be the 100th time he’d asked his employer that question since the communist representative started sniffing around the Shelby factories.

“What about her?” Tommy stood next to Juliusz’ desk in a relaxed pose, hands in his pockets, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. 

“She’s not making these strikes easy for the company. I thought you’d deal with her already, a revolution is coming.” He plops the file back on the desk and reaches into his jackets’ inner-pocket, taking out his cigarette tin and a pack of matches.

“I thought you were on the workers’ side.” Tommy replies in his usual smug tone, one that he uses whenever he thinks he’s got someone figured out. Juliusz fights the urge to roll his eyes. 

“I’m a Shelby Company Limited employee first, whatever i believe comes second. I don’t need drunken men frustrated with their life running around the street with guns and bayonets. And i’m sure you don’t as well, Thomas.” He slides the tiny box open to reveal just one match left. The oddly comforting smell of burning sulphur reaches Juliusz’ nose as he lights his cigarette. 

Working for the Shelbys these past few years has been fulfilling, and in some ways he’s been considered part of the family. This deranged, insane, unhinged and frankly dysfunctional family, always within punching distance as well as earshot.

It happened by accident. One minute you’re just a newly hired company lawyer in the Garrison after hours, the other you’re screaming “DUCK” to the oldest Shelby, as Irishmen flood the place with knives in their hands, IRA songs on their lips, and an inconceivable amount of alcohol in their blood. A drunken brawl, which frankly Juliusz wouldn’t expect to go that well, ended in only a few bruises on the brummie side. He rubbed his hands in pain, as he thought that he’s definitely going to regret that throughout the next week. Juliusz’s trance was paused by the first pat on the back of many…

“I knew i knew you from somewhere.” The surprisingly jolly (and honestly, probably as drunk as the Irish on the ground) Arthur Shelby squinted slightly at Juliusz, trying his hardest to pinpoint his face to any he might know. “Me brother hired you, right? From Solomons?”

“I wish i’d get introduced to you under better circumstances, Mr. Shelby.” He greeted him politely, as best as possible, while catching his breath after the fight. His hand reached for a handshake. 

“That’s the best circumstance there is! Just a couple of lads, fighting about.” Arthur slaps Juliusz’s handshake away, only to pat Juliusz’s back again, making some of the broken glass on his shoulders fall off. “Call me Arthur, would ya? You took out this bastard's tooth for me, i’m no Mr.” He kicks a laying man, not sure if it’s a beaten IRA associate, or a Peaky Blinder who's celebrating early by taking a nap on the wooden floors of the Garrison.

“I could go for another right about now.” Arthur looks around for any more fiends he could beat up without any consequences.  “Harry! Have we got any more Irish?!” He shouts, filling the whole room with his voice, despite being only a mere few meters from an unamused barkeep. 

“Only Irish whisky, ‘m afraid.” Harry smiles smugly in Arthur’s direction, looking up from searching for a broom to start cleaning this ruckus with.

“Eh, it’ll do.” He grumbles as he reaches over the bar to grab a bottle. “Do you want any- uh...?” He looks at Juliusz like he’s trying really hard to remember something, his voice now surprisingly polite. The Pole observes him with a curious glance. He’s different than people described him. Sure, unhinged was the right word some workers used. That man is unhinged, but only when the situation calls for it, it appears. There has to be more to that seemingly simple man, and he’s nice enough, Juliusz figures. Not many people wanted to get to know him (not that he complained, at least vocally). A foreigner with a learned London accent probably doesn’t spark a lot of trust. 

“Uh, Juliusz.” He joins his side at the bar, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the Irishmen on the floor, unconscious, and the locals getting back to drinking the day away.

“Yewl…” It’s not rolling off his slightly intoxicated brummie tongue well. “How about Jul?” Arthur suggests as he pours two heaping glasses of whisky, seeming proud of himself and the nickname he thought out.

"Good enough," Juliusz shrugs and tries to fight off a chuckle. 

“You seem like y’don’t get out enough. You’re a Blinder, look like a fookin’ egghead, but a Blinder nonetheless!” They clink their overflowing glasses together, both spilling a bit on the floor and hands. “What do you do in our company anyway?” He takes a big gulp of the whisky.

“I’m the new company lawyer.” Juliusz says, trying his hardest not to sound as excited as he actually is, but his eyes have been sparkling with curiosity and ambition ever since he stepped foot in Small Heath. Sure, most would think London to Birmingham is a downgrade, but going from a law advisor at an illegal ‘bakery’ to a company lawyer in a successful, legal business is quite the leap, at least for him.

“Oh jesus, an egghead, i was right.” Arthur choked-laughed on his drink, while Juliusz responded with a raised eyebrow, wanting to signal annoyance, but couldn’t help laughing along with the oldest Shelby. “I have to take you out to drinks with Michael, this kid’s right up your alley. John too, a bit less in your alley, but he’s a fun bloke, and also…” Arthur rambled on, and Juliusz surprisingly found himself listening. With a small smile on his lips, he reaches for his matches, and lights his and Arthurs’ cigarettes.

“I’m taking care of it.” Thomas tries to shut down the conversation.

“In what fashion, exactly?” Juliusz’ tone is starting to sound annoyed. Can’t Tommy for once in his life not speak in half-assed riddles? “I can take care of it if you need me to. I’m sure we can find something on her.”

“I’m planning to meet Miss Eden and discuss the whole dispute, and come to a conclusion that benefits us both.” Thomas says the whole plan directly to the wall, words spewing out of his mouth with grey smoke, not even appearing to consider his employees’ offer. Juliusz studies him for a few seconds.

“That’s a very long way of saying you’re going to stop the strikes with your cock.” He points his hand lazily in Tommy’s direction, cigarette held between his middle and ring fingers.

“Did Ada tell you that?” Tommy finally looks at him, then makes a sound which can only be described as something between a chuckle and a scoff.

“No. Has she told you something similar?” Juliusz raises an eyebrow whilst taking a drag of his cigarette. “I’ve always thought she’s very bright.” He lets out. Something inside him tells him he should let go and stop his remarks, but he’s frankly too annoyed with Thomas and too stressed to let it out in any other way.

“It just works.” Tommy breathes out.

“Thank God most judges are repulsive old men, you’d have put me out of a job otherwise.” He smiles smugly. Thomas only responds with a prolonged, empty stare.

“Did anyone call?” Tommy changed the subject, clearly done with whatever their conversation was up until now. 

“No one you’d find important.” Juliusz sighs, deflating slightly. Closing his eyes, only opening them to look at the telephone again.

“If they do-” 

“I will! For gods’ sake.” He snaps back, his hands tightening into fists. Tommy doesn’t seem impressed, his icy blue eyes seem to change in a way, as if switching approaches. 

“I have an appointment with Ms. Ross in a bit, let her in when she comes.” His tone is fake casual, as he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray resting atop Juliusz’s desk. Tommy leaves in the direction of his office just after that.

“What am i? Your secretary now?” Juliusz whispers-shouts after him, not earning a response. 

“Niewiarygodne.” He mutters to the now empty room, his only companion being the ever-present floating dust that came with the betting board. He sighs and buries his head in the crook of his elbow, only to immediately glance at the phone in anticipation.

.

.

.

. 

.

Silence. What is he even expecting?

Juliusz takes a deep breath. His fists are shaking slightly. This time, he’s not sure if it’s the stress or his body asking for some more snow, even if he promised himself he’d use it less, out of necessity. It could be his hands acting out, again. He closes his eyes tightly.

Pull yourself together. 

An otherwise soft hand riddled with faint freckles and birthmarks, and a big, jagged scar going through it’s back, reaches towards the stack of paperwork once more.

**************

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but Juliusz was suddenly taken out of his work trance by the sound of the front door opening. Glancing at his watch, he saw that only an hour has passed, still early, for most. 

Out of the corner, he saw the frail figure of a woman, who after a brief moment of thought he recognised as Ms. Ross. She looked quiet and unassuming, almost like a mouse. Juliusz signed the last piece of documentation with a swift motion of a fountain pen, before standing up from his chair. Ms. Ross looked around the office warily, before her gaze rested on the lawyer that stuck his head out of his office.

“Can i help you?” He stepped in her direction, straightening his jacket.

“Oh. Yes, you can. Where can i find Mr. Shelbys’ office? I’ve got an appointment.” She asks, but seemed on edge, though Juliusz couldn’t blame her. Civilians hardly ever relax in the vicinity of the Peaky Blinders, especially Thomas.

“It’s just straight on, there’s a sign on the door, can’t miss it.” He nodded in the general direction of Tommy’s working space, shooting her a polite smile, to which she responded with a nervous grin and a rushed ‘thankyou’ as she headed for Thomas’ office. He saw her off with his gaze, then proceeded to look around the Small Heath office, people steadily turning in and starting business, mostly revolving around betting. All his paperwork for the day was done, he was only needed for a meeting in one of the factories, yet he still felt like he forgot to do something. Another look at his watch reminded him, midday. Michael should be able to answer the phone right about now.

With a quick spin and the hospital address, he waited next to the mounted telephone, leaning against the wooden, dusty walls.

“...Yes?” Rang a voice from the other side. 

“Michael, hey.” Juliusz put the speaker against his shoulder nad cheek. “How’ve you been?”

“Julius! Better, i guess.” Juliusz heard something that seemed like someone getting up from the rusty hospital beds. “Haven’t heard from you in a bit, old man.” 

 “Old man?” He laughed. “I’d like to see you call Thomas that, i’m barely his age.” 

“He’s my supervisor,” Michael quips. “We’re basically equals, Company Accountant, Company Lawyer.” He drags on, his tone visibly amused.

“Equals? Don’t forget who helped you study for your Worcester course, because it damn well wasn’t Tommy.” 

“I still don’t know what i need risk analysis for.” 

“That’s what I thought in university as well. And i haven’t used it since.” Both laughed, Michael’s voice disturbed from time-to-time by the telephone signal. “Uh, listen, i’m calling to ask you. Is it fine if i come by tomorrow?” Juliusz changed his position, now more hunched over the telephone.

“Fine? Sure you can, yeah. The only people that come visit me are mum and Thomas, and both pester me about me having to rest, not work.” This earned an eye-roll from the lawyer, it seemed like everything Michael did was work. He didn’t blame the kid for having ambitions or being loyal to the company, but he didn’t want Michael to get all his life-satisfaction out of work. He knew that all-too-well.

“Because they’re right. You got shot. I’ll only bring a few things you need to sign, but other than that, i’ll bring you nothing but my fun-loving spirit.” Juliusz said, sarcastically.

“Sure, you will.” Michael chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Would you bring me some whisky? I haven’t-”

“No. I know what kinds of pills they’ve got you on.” His voice turned stern, with a mix of concern. “You can’t mix that with alcohol, even i know that. It’s like snow.” 

“Speaking of which, will you need any?” Michael asked with genuine intent, casually, as if he’s telling his colleague about a cigarette. 

Out of a corner of his eye, he could see Ms. Ross leaving the office, pale as paper.

“...No, i’ve stopped.” He was met with silence from Michael. Juliusz sighed. “Really, this time.”

“That’s good Jul, i won’t tell you anything.” There’s a silence for a few seconds, then Michael says again, softer. “How about some Morphine? For your hands, i’m sure i can sneak some from the nurses.” 

“Oh no, i’ve heard what Morphine did for Thomas.” Juliusz sighs. “I’ll be fine Michael, don’t get into trouble on my behalf. You worry about yourself kid.” 

“Tommorow?” 

“Yeah, i’ll see you.”

Like clockwork, Thomas rushed out of his office, almost as if experiencing tunnel-vision, only coming to a halt when he sees Juliusz put down the telephone receiver. Before he could even say a word, the lawyer stopped him.

“It was Michael.” Juliusz tried his best not to sound annoyed, which didn’t work almost immediately when Thomas gave him one of his empty, blue stares, which usually meant calculating distrust. “Fucking hell, shall i call him again and let you ask him yourself?” He remarked, in an ironic, tired tone. He felt like he’s a teenager with overbearing parents. Only Juliusz isn’t dealing with a worried mother, but a grown man.

“Very well then.” Tommy said in one big exhale. “Do you know where Arthur is?"

“Haven’t seen him today, i’d call the other office if i were you.”

“I’ll go there.” He nods, immediately turning to leave. There was something about the way he was acting. Rushing step, wider, more alert eyes. 

“What’s happening?” Juliusz takes a step after Thomas, confused. “What did Ms. Ross want?”

“Nothing important. I’m dealing with business.” He raises his hand as if to signal ‘stop’.

“What kind of business?” 

“Blinder business.” Tommy reaches for the door and opens it, looking over his shoulder. “Nothing important to you.” 

The door closes with a silent click, leaving the office almost devoid of sound. Juliusz takes a deep breath, releases it, and after a moment, puts down the telephone speaker way harder than he should’ve.

***************

God, he hates this office. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Small Heath, everything about it, except this old betting shop turned office. He’s worked here temporarily only two times. Once, when the plumbing in the Company offices made the floors flood with sewage, and since the Italians came to town. Somehow, Thomas seems more full of shit now than then. 

Juliusz packs the last things he needs for the hospital and checks the clock, almost an hour to go. Just as he was finishing packing up for his visit at the hospital when, just as yesterday, Thomas stopped by his desk on his way out the office.

“Where are you going?” 

“I could ask you the same question.” He deadpans, but when his remark is met with the same icy stare, Juliusz sighs. “I’m visiting Michael in the hospital.” Thomas only nods and turns to leave without a word, again.

“Where are you going?!” Juliusz bitches after Thomas, frustrated and angry.

“Business.” This time he doesn’t even look at him, too occupied by whatever’s on his mind, which looking at him, you could immediately deduct the ‘Shelby mastermind’ was hard at work in that brain of his.

“Oh fuck off, what if i need to reach you?” He glanced at the telephone, not sure if willingly. “What if they call?”

“They won’t.” He says over his shoulder, making Juliusz even more perplexed. “Close the office after yourself, will ya?” And there he went, and Juliusz felt like he’s the crazy one. Is he the crazy one, or is Thomas slowly rubbing off of him?

It took everything in him not to release his frustration on the poor flowers Linda helped him pick out for Michael. Instead, his walk to the hospital took him ten minutes, instead of the usual twenty.

****************

He pushed the door open with his back into the sterile, but oddly home-y room. The strong strands of sunshine rested atop the wooden table, hospital bed, and Michael himself, who immediately upon hearing the door open looked up from a file.

“I come in and see you working again, i’ll burn those reports in the chimney.” He sighed as he laid out both his briefcase and a large paper bag on the table, along with a small bouquet of flowers. Michael slowly approached the table and sat down, immediately inspecting the mix of dandelions, yellow roses and sunflower petals.

“These are nice, but i’m afraid i like you only as a friend.” The younger man said with a teasing grin, but still put the bouquet next to the ones his mother and other coworkers gave him.

“Very funny.” Juliusz rolled his eyes, but still chuckled. “Whatever will my foolish heart do, the man twelve years my junior doesn’t reciprocate my very true and real feelings.” He exaggerated a theatrical speech, receiving a laugh from Michael.

“What’s there?” He points to Juliusz’s briefcase. 

“Some documents regarding the budget, you only need to sign them.” He hands them to Michael, figuring it’s better to get the ‘official’ part of his visit over as soon as possible. The boy signs them one-by-one with identical motions of his pen, then slides them back to Juliusz. “Thank you.” The lawyer says, stuffing them back where he took them from.

“Here, they’re from my mum.” Michael tosses him a red-green apple, which Juliusz barely catches. “Uh, the other mum.” 

“Oh my god, these are delicious.” He’s not sure if they’re that good, or if his body will accept any kind of breakfast as an ambrosia. He takes another bite, nope, they’re that good.

“I know!” Michael bites into one as well. “You can’t get something like this from the city anymore, they don’t smell like coal.” 

“True.” Juliusz nods. “The city ones aren’t as juicy.” 

Silence, a pleasant one, for the first time since that drink with Changretta, which says a lot about what kind of tension was rising in the office. Michael looked as if he was internally debating something, a thin line appearing between his eyebrows, which year-by-year grows thicker.

“Tommy came by recently.” He blurts out finally, looking to the side. Oh, that makes sense. He’d have to know sooner or later, Thomas must have taken it upon himself.

“He told you?” Juliusz was almost sure he knew what Michael meant. 

“Yeah.” He nods. “How’ve you been getting on with the Italians?” There seems to be the smallest glimpse of concern in Michael’s tone. He leans forward in his chair, but tries not to disturb his wound too much.

“Somehow better than with Thomas.” Juliusz sighs. “He seems so paranoid around me now, how can i actually help when i don’t know anything? Not to mention that i haven’t been able to give the Italians anything more than he permits me to, useless documentation that Changretta doesn’t even need.” His fidgeting with the apple stem makes it snap.

“What did you want from Changretta in exchange for Tommy?” he throws the apple core in a bin nearby. “From the Italians’ perspective, at least.” The smallest of smirks appears on his lips. 

“...My life. My name was on a bullet.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Juliusz didn’t want to say anything about Michael or anyone else being involved in his ‘truce’ with Changretta. They don’t have to know, the only thing that matters is that they’re safe for the time being. “It isn’t anymore, for now.” As if on instinct, he put his hand in his jacket’s inner-pocket, along with the tin cigarette holder and a pack of matches, the cool sensation of a bullet stood out. He took out the cigarettes, only to be stopped by Michael. 

“You can only smoke on their balcony.” He nods towards the nurses’ room. “How about you go and I look at what else you got for me here?” Michael winks and reaches into the brown bag on the table, his eyes widening when he sees the whisky bottle hidden between some clothes Polly packed for him and a few treats.

“Hey, that’s only if you don’t drink it after taking your meds, got it?” Juliusz slaps Michael’s hand away as he stood up.

“Mhm.” He hums, still looking at the amber bottle like he’d definitely drink it the second Juliusz turns his back. A stern glare from the Pole makes Michael roll his eyes. “Yes, i won’t drink it after the pills. You're the best.” Juliusz nods approvingly and takes one last big bite from the apple.

“You wouldn't say that if i didn't get it for you, you brat.” He says with his mouth full. "I'll be back."

“Some of the nurses here are really nice, chat one of them up, i’m not going anywhere.” Michael takes this opportunity to rest his feet on Juliusz’s chair, already ogling the work-related papers. 

The balcony in the nurses room was fortunately open to all visitors, looking over the back of the hospital. The last nurse on break was a clearly overworked middle-aged lady, for whom he was happy to light the cigarette. Even more so when she had no intention of initiating conversation or offering any unnecessary and costly treatment. As Juliusz slowly enjoyed his cigarette, his mind wandered back to the peculiar item in his pocket.

Hm, at least they spelt it correctly, was the first thought he had when Juliusz held up the bullet, the sun reflecting its gold-brown metal and grey scratches. He rubbed his thumb along the bullet, before hiding it again. He looked up at the sky.

Is it midday already?

BAM!

Juliusz, as if on instinct, ducked and covered his head.

.

.

.

Nothing. After the shot, the hospital was surprisingly quiet, only the sound of a few footsteps, crash of a door, and the muffled cries of the nurse next to him. The footsteps ceased just next door.

Oh no.

Michael.

He shushed the nurse and took out a small handgun out the holster strapped to the small of his back. Out of the balcony, he had to force himself not to sprint and bash into Michael’s room. Warily, he made his way down the corridor, passing next to a shot Peaky Blinder. The bright wall behind the poor man now a glistening, bloody mess. The smell of fresh blood was sickening, Juliusz looked away and took a deep breath, just like they taught him. Just as he approached Michael’s door, he heard muffled voices, more accurately, A muffled voice. He slowly comes closer, as he hears whoever was inside approach to the exit

Step He raises his gun to eye-level.

Step He focuses on a spot where a person would have their head.

Step, click He takes a breath as he hears the door open-

Step- A figure steps out, he disables the safety with a loud click, which makes the man perk up. An all-too-familiar man. It’s Changretta, Luca motherfucking Changretta. He slowly raises his hands, but doesn’t seem too bothered by the gun pointed at him. Juliusz could swear that for a brief moment, Changretta appeared surprised to see him, only to once again put on his usual smug demeanour.

“Ferenz! Fancy seeing you here.” He stepped forward, motioning the other men he was with to follow. “I was actually gonna call, but-”

“We had a fucking deal.” He growled 

“And it’s not broken, the boy’s fine.” Changretta vaguely motioned in the direction of Michael’s room. Loud voices rang outside the hospital, sounding like people trying to break the hospital’s doors open. “Now if you wanna shoot me, be my fucking guest, but do it now before your idiot friends get here.” Juliusz came forward and shoved the Italian back a step, and looked inside the boys’ room. Michael was fine, merely shook, looking between his friend and the Italian at his gunpoint. He could just shoot him, be done with it. Everyone would be happy. Yet, when he imagined the blood splatter from the Italian’s head, and the life drain from his already dark eyes, his body at the place of the man he passed in the corridor, he felt a tug inside himself, and couldn't find on what to blame it for this time. Ferenz sighed and took his finger off the trigger.

God, why is he so weak

“Go.” He stepped back and nodded at the corridor. He felt angry, not sure if at himself or the smug bastard in front of him, who took his granted freedom and used it to rush forward where Juliusz motioned.

“You’re goin’ too.” As Changretta passed him, Juliusz felt a tug, this time at his shoulder when he was basically dragged along with the Italians.

“What?!” He basically shouted as they sprinted across the corridors, though he was less sprinting, and more being pulled to their step.

“I need you for something, c’mon.”

“Why? What does ‘something’ mean?” Juliusz finally twists himself from Changrettas grip, but still running side by side with him. “What did you want with Michael?” They pressed their backs against the corridor wall, just before two turns, left and right.

“This and other fascinating questions will be answered in the car, my friend.” Luca replied as he looked around both corners. “Now don’t get your panties in a twist. Which way?” 

“Oh go fuck yourself.” Juliusz muttered. “Left.” He followed up immediatly, which was only met with a chuckle from Changretta as they ran for the exit, with a black Rolls Royce already waiting for them.

*****************

If someone told Juliusz a week ago that he’d spend his afternoon squished between two Italians in the backseat of a car, he’d laugh at you, or maybe he’d assume you meant a totally different kind of encounter, which would also be paired with a laugh. 

But now, with the man on his left, Matteo and the nuisance on his right, who was in the middle of reading a newspaper, Juliusz truly felt like fate is a very bored man dead-set on making his life hell. Maybe if Matteo didn’t confiscate his gun the second they were out of the hospitals’ viscinity, Juliusz would again briefly think of shooting both of them, or himself, he hadn’t yet decided.

“Will you finally answer my question?” Juliusz mutters, still looking ahead, arms crossed. The outside view of endless forest didn’t entertain him that much, but it was still better than awkward eye-contact with Matteo or glaring at Luca.

“Which one?” Changretta says, turning to another page of the newspaper.

“Where the hell are we going?” He finally turns to look at the Italian.

“To a place Darby let us use, not far. There’s business in London i’ll need you for.” He drawled. “You know Sabini’s and Solomon’s businesses?”

“Solomons’ more than Sabinis, but yes.” Juliusz sighs, pushing up his glasses. “What about Michael?”

“Nice kid.” Changretta muses, flicking the match he was biting down on between his teeth and lips, and Juliusz faught the urge to snap it in half.

“You know damn well what i’m asking you.” 

“You’re not the only one who put Tommy’s neck on the line for him.” Changretta meets his gaze as well. “I just came by to let him know we have a deal.” At first, Juliusz had no idea what Luca was insinuating, but a brief moment later, it’s as if a light turned on in his head. Polly… This doesn’t surprise him, which is odd, because Polly has a strong habit of surprising him. Juliusz pushes the thought aside, he’ll confront her or Michael later.

“You better leave him out of this.” 

“It’s his mother and you who i’m dealing with, that’s enough.” He takes the match and tosses it out the car window.

That seemed to be the end of that conversation, though a few glances at Changretta made Julliusz think something was on his mind. Then again, almost always when he saw him the Italian appeared so. Either somber and toned down, or smug and calculating. Something about his expression, the way he grimaced, stared, or even fidgeted with that damn piece of wood made him appear like he’s distracting himself from something. And just when he thought he was being discreet, Luca’s dark eyes met his green ones. Looking away would just be admitting defeat now. Changretta seems to be considering something, then throws Juliusz a smug smile.

“Back at the hospital, why didn’t you shoot me? Didn’t have it in you?”

“Are you…teasing me for not blowing your head off?” His eyebrows furrow. “If someone has to kill you, let it be one of the Shelbys, it’s none of my concern.” Somehow, this response appeared to satisfy Changretta, who turned to his right-hand-man.

 “Matteo.” His voice changed in a way, even though that usually happens when changing languages, Juliusz couldn’t help but pay close attention, as if he could read the foreign meanings off his lips. “Hai i documenti?” 

 “Vuoi usare LUI per questo? Luca, con rispetto-” He wasn’t sure what he said, but judging from the way Matteo glanced at Juliusz with every word, he could safely assume the Italian didn’t have much trust towards the Pole.

“Just fucking give ‘em.” Changretta makes a motion with his hand that Juliusz would only describe as so very italian. Matteo shrugs and reaches under his seat. 

“Here.” A stack of documents and folders, some looking like they’ve been through better times than this plop onto his lap. “Take it.” Luca taps the files with a ringed finger.

“Why?” Juliusz questions, but still takes the files and quickly skims through the first few. Financial outputs of Italian-owned clubs in London, copies of shares of the South England racetracks, even tax reports. “Why do you have these?”

“I’m planning on making Sabini an offer he can’t resist.” He grins. “I need you to draw up a contract for me. 100% of his businesses, to my family.”

“Don’t you have lawyers for this?” 

“I do, i’m sitting next to him.” Changretta responds nonchalantly, turning his face away from the lawyer, looking out the window.

He actually has a task now. 

He took it as an opportunity to get a closer look. This was everything legitimate Sabini holds record of having, earning or spending. That’s the problem though, Juliusz noticed, it’s only everything legal Sabini has to offer. Not thinking twice, he nudges Changretta, not even looking at him, nose still buried deep in the documentation. 

“You don’t have everything.”

“Hm?” The noise makes him think that Changretta may have just been taken out of a daydream.

“I know Sabini owns a lot more properties and businesses than meets the eye. He just owns them through different people and companies, for tax purposes. I’d know, we do it as well.” He opens one of the tax reports, pointing at a company name, one of their ‘brother companies’, functioning only to hold assets for Sabini. “If you want the entire Sabini empire, i’ll need their papers as well.”

“...” Luca takes a moment to look between Juliusz and what he’s pointing out, then takes the document out of his hands, skimming it through. “Consider it done.” He closes it and gives it back to Juliusz, the sound of his approval oddly satisfying to the lawyer.

“Great.” 

“You got until tomorrow, that good?” Luca raises an eyebrow at him.

“Perfect.” For a while, Juliusz tried to put down the papers and leave them until he comes back home, but not a second later turns to Luca. “Do you have a pen?”

“Matteo?” 

“Pencil only.” The Italian takes out a small pencil out of his jacket.

“Even better.” He clarified whilst arranging the documents in a different, more organised order. When Matteo passed him a comically tiny pencil, he let out a fast ‘thankyou’ and in the blink of an eye transformed his part of the backseat into a pile of papers. Now this was where he shined, a horrendously boring reading for most, exciting underlining for him. Everything to be used for later when he’s back at his desk. As odd as it may be, finally getting a task from the Italians is satisfying, and later he’ll have something to tell Thomas to make him happy. He worked with the smallest of smiles on his face. In the fervor of dates, taxes and company shares, Juliusz didn’t even notice Changretta looking at him. From his fingers shuffling page to page like a dealer handling cards, or how his eyes raced left-to-right as he read, there seems to be something endearing in someone who’s in their element. Luca opened his newspaper again, but didn't continue reading it.

Now, if someone told Juliusz a week ago that he’d possibly spend his afternoon trying to move a wagon with some Italians, he’d laugh at you as well.

Yet there he was, getting out of the car as Changretta threw a “C’mon poindexter, try not to break your glasses” in his direction, which, at this point, Juliusz didn’t even bother to grace with a talkback. 

Winter hadn’t dwelled harshly in the Birmingham area, if he didn't know any better, he'd assume it was typical gloomy authumn. Though the dirt road underneath them crackled as if not so long ago it had been completely frozen.

“What’s this?” Matteo walked up front. “Whose wagon is that?” He got immediately stopped by the policeman, as if this trashed wagon is somehow a sensitive crime scene.

“They’re gypsies.” he blurted out. “Tribe of fucking gypsies.”

An alarm rang inside Juliusz’s head, something surely wasn’t right. The tussle between Matteo and the lawman didn’t help ease whatever was hanging in the air.

“I said that it’ll be clear in 20 minutes.”

Something definitely isn’t right. He glanced at Luca and was met with a similar look. Both men seemingly having a smililar gut feeling.

"Let's go." He nodded in the direction of the car. "We'll find another way outta here."

When the man he got introduced to before as 'Frankie' hadn't started the car yet, they just assumed he couldn't hear them. The second time Luca called out to him, they thought there must have been something wrong with him and/or the car.

With his head leaned back, exposing the cleanily slit neck, crimson, already slowly clogging blood oozing out of it, chaos erupted.

Shots fired just above their heads, some putting holes in the Italians' hats as they got out of the car to fight back.

Juliusz pressed his back against the Rolls Royce, heart pounding as he realised just what was happening. Aberama Gold, thats what was happening.

Another Italian fell to the ground, while more bullets pierced the cars' body. Bullets whistled in the air just like they did all these years ago.

Gold must be here from the order of Tommy. The Blinders must have known Juliusz went with the Italians. Tommy must have known. Why were they ambushing them with him right there, when-

Something cold pressed against his palm. He looked down. Changretta is giving Juliusz his gun back.

"Cover me, yeah?" His voice was raised, with more than an ounce of panic in it, cracking at places.

He didn't need to be asked twice, he's not dying out of friendly fire from the Golds anytime soon. Juliusz takes a deep breath, and sticked his head out slightly, shooting wherever he saw movement, not to kill, but to scare off and buy Luca the few seconds he needed to get the car running.

"DUCK!" Juliusz shouted when he saw Gold's son aim a shot clearly meant for Luca as he was trying to get to the steering wheel. It just ended up a bullet in Frankies' already dead brain.

Never before would he think he'd be so relieved to hear an engine turn on.

With Changretta maneuvering the car out of the bridge, and with Matteo and Juliusz emptying their magazines to hell, they barely made it out the forest and into a typical, empty english field.

They damn near fell out the car when Luca stopped the engine. The only sound being the distressed and tired breaths of three men after a brief date with death.

Then, you could hear the music of two Italian men shouting at eachother, and one Polish man puking his guts out on the side of the road.

"Holy shit." Juliusz drew a sharp breath as he wiped his lips, trying his best to compose himself after the initial adrenaline started to wear off. "Kurwa mać." He could hear the italians slowly calm as well.

"Fuck, you alright?" Luca calls out to him.

"Yeah, fucking peachy." He wheezes out, exhausted, not sure if more mentally or physically, or both, probably.

"They got two of ours." Matteo pointed in the direction of the woods they drove out of. "What do we do?" This question seemed to put Changretta even more on edge, frustration gradually building up.

"CAZZO!" He kicked the car, luckily it being so beyond repair, it didn't seem to mind. Luca ran his hand through his hair, now noticing he has lost his hat somwhere in the middle of the ordeal. "All right, change of fuckin' plans. Ferenz, you still got that contract to make. Go back to Small Heath, we'll have time for business, i'll call you." He points at Juliusz, not appearing to be asking, but telling. The Pole didn't have it in him to argue at this point.

"I need to make a phonecall to our dear friend Polly." Luca handed Juliusz the files out of the car, still holding them when the other man tries to take them. "Be safe." He lets go.

As he got dropped off at a safe distance, instead of heading to a place like home, preferably into the arms of his bed and a hefty bottle of whisky, he turned to Small Heath, where he'll kick Thomas' Shelbys' fucking teeth in.

******************

Translations:

Niewiarygodne - Unbelievable

Hai i documenti? - Do you have the documents?

Vuoi usare LUI per questo? Luca, con rispetto - Do you want to use HIM for this? Luca, with respect-

Kurwa mać - Fucking Hell

Cazzo - Fuck

#peaky blinders #luca changretta #tommy shelby #michael gray #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta x oc #kings of spades #juliusz ferenz #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oc #rip frankie #we don't know your lore but you have a kickass name

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Salvation - A Luca Changretta/Reader One Shot Story.

So my darling @zablife put this in my brain, and it was going to be smutty, but it took a much more tender turn in the end. I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless.

Words - 1,034

Warnings - Brief mentions of violence.

In Luca’s world, his status dictates he acts as judge and jury, but not often executioner. Usually, it’s another to squeeze a trigger, send a ballistic of hot lead into somebody, their final lesson learned in never crossing the men who loom like reapers within the shadows of the New York underworld.  

Until the code of omerta is forsaken so badly, he has no choice but to execute vengeance, when it’s on a level so personal, there’s no one else but him to bring down the final blow. For omerta, any bond is pushed aside. Friendship, blood, oaths, everything.  

And it never gets easier.  

The weight of it pushes down on his shoulders, the deed trailing along after him, like a restless phantom vying for attention, swirling dark as it flits through his mind. It casts its shadows, seeds itself, an implanted haunting no exorcism will ever remove. The stains of blood can be washed away, cleansed by soap and water. Stains of the soul take a much deeper scouring.  

For the wages of sin is death, so says the holy book. He knows it’ll come to him eventually, unless he’s particularly fortunate. It shan’t be the sacrilege of breaking omerta that ends him, though. He knows whatever reaper comes for him in the end will be nothing less than his own wages of sin have earned him. 

He examines his hands again in the car, although it was a gloved hand that pulled the trigger and sent his own blood down to check in at the gates of hell. They only contain the usual brandings, no blood to mark the deed, nothing outward giving it away. If his appearance matched the carnage in his brain, he would look as if he’d been launched headfirst into a blood-filled vat, dripping sanguine, no skin left without the slick wet of a crimson stain.  

He feels like he is walking through clay as he enters your home, feet heavy, limbs turned to stone and concrete. Luca Changretta is nothing if not a pillar of strength, but as with anything, if the pillar is subjected to blunt force trauma too many times, it begins to show cracks.  

It’s always you who patches them up again.  If anybody has a chance of banishing the phantom, it is you.

He moves through the house wordlessly after removing his coat and hat, his feet upon the stairs echoing through the hallway. Slow, heavy footfalls, his shoulders drawn up as you stand at the bottom to view him, biting your lip nervously.  

“Want me to bring you a drink up?”  

He never means to bite your head off, show his fangs like an agitated viper, but it does happen. When the tall Italian turns at the top to look down on you, though, it’s with a softened face. “Please, doll.”  

A little pang of worry nestles itself in your chest, his voice even quieter than usual. You knew he wouldn’t walk away from that particular hit unscathed, the damage being on the inside. It’ll be like a feral cat scratching against the inside of his skull in the days to come, sore, repetitive, vying for release.  

After all, it isn’t every day a man has to put a bullet in his cousin, after discovering he was a rat. 

Knowing he needs a little time, you wait downstairs until after the sound of running water has ceased, giving him a slither of peace before padding up, a large whiskey in your hand. He hasn’t bothered switching the lights on, some of your candles over in the corner lit instead, the room bathed in a dark gold glow.  

He seems to have been taken by the storm of his thoughts, not immediately registering your entrance into his calming space, a wounded, green gaze finding you eventually as you pass him his drink, seating yourself on the side of the tub. Your hand reaches for his face, cupping his cheek, the dark stubble grainy in texture against the soft of your fingertips.  

A sigh sweeps over your palm as he leans into your embrace, your thumb skimming his lips, a kiss pressed as finally, he smiles. “Thank god for you.” Leaning forward, he shuffles to the centre of the tub, the water whooshing around the narrow, muscular form as it cuts through it, Luca jerking his head back. “Come hop in here with me.”  

It’s usually you who lies between his long legs, legs you once coined sexy giraffe legs and made him laugh until his stomach hurt, a rarity for a man usually so taciturn, so quietly still. Your place now is to be the bearer of support, the bolster rod knocked in behind the great pillar to prevent it from toppling, ready to take the weight and repair the damage.  

His head rests between your breasts, eyes falling shut, long legs jutting out of the water where he’s bent them at the knees to make room for you. The steam rises from his skin, and you watch it curling up through the air while your fingers weave into his wet hair, nails combing through the raven strands and swirling over his scalp.  

It’s a practice he’s always found soothing, and you know he needs it, needs something to counteract all that is sharp and screaming in his mind. Your presence alone is tonic enough, but for him, it’s your touch which truly pours healing elixir over the emotional wounds lacerating him deeply. Your fingertips begin to squeeze and rake, easing the tension pulling tight over his head, a soft, relaxed grunt rumbling his throat.  

Your caress moves to his neck, the muscles hard and unrelenting, tension cording every muscle. It leads to his shoulders, your hands working with diligence, stroking, kneading and pinching until you feel them begin to become malleable. He feels it leaving him, the exorcism that is the pure brilliance of your love banishing all that hangs heavy upon him, the phantom chased away, shrouding itself from your light.  

“Feeling any better?” 

He lifts his chin, turning his head, the smile finally reaching the green twinkle of his eyes, picked peridot in the candlelight. “Always am whenever you’re near.” 

#luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta x you #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #luca changretta fic #luca changretta fanfic

[zablife]

Birthday Drabble "Pleasure"

This is for a fellow piscean who is turning 22 today! You requested some Luca fluff with the word "pleasure." I hope you enjoy it 💕 Happy birthday, darling!

You stood beside your husband as he handed your passports to the disagreeable looking guard. As you waited for your documents to be checked, you tapped your foot and exhaled loudly, impatient to be finished. You had no idea why Luca insisted you accompany him overseas for business. He would work and leave you in the hotel, hardly a romantic trip for newlyweds.

"Remove the hat," the man demanded and your husband complied, flashing you a charming smile over his shoulder. His smoldering stare made you want to melt, but you quickly looked away, still pouting about your time apart.

"What's the purpose of your visit?" the official asked and you couldn't help but purse your lips as you awaited Luca's inevitable answer.

"Pleasure," you husband drawled, extending the word with obvious delight. You looked up at him with confusion and he gave you a sly wink before accepting the passports and guiding you away from the queue.

"Luca, what are you talking about?" you asked, leaning into him. "Why did you lie to that man?"

Luca placed his case on the ground and beckoned you closer as though he had a secret. Your heart rate increased, feeling his large palm settle against the small of your back, holding you to him. His hand cupped your chin as he confided in a whisper, "I didn't lie, principessa, there won't be any business. This trip is my chance to spoil you the way you deserve,” he promised, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your entire body shivered with excitement and you bit your lip, feeling his hand trace it’s way up your spine until his long fingers came to rest along the back of your neck. "What did you have in mind?" you asked seductively, running your fingers over the lapels of his coat. Luca's pupils dilated with lust before dipping his head to capture your lips. He devoured you in a passionate kiss that gave you butterflies, obliterating any further thoughts or questions from your mind.

**Request a birthday drabble here.

#zablife pisces requests #Luca Changretta fanfic #Luca Changretta imagine #Luca Changretta x you #Luca Changretta x y/n #Luca Changretta x reader

[corpsekiller]

hi sugar! could you write Luca Changretta with breeding Kink?.

question: do you accept commissions?

✝ 𝖯𝖴𝖫𝖫 𝖬𝖤 𝖢𝖫𝖮𝖲𝖤𝖱 — 𝖫.𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖱𝖤𝖳𝖳𝖠

here you go, darling. i don't take commissions yet, but i'm planning to set something up when i find the time during my studies (though that's going to take a while). thank you for requesting and enjoy!

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. luca changretta x afab!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. nsfw! unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, daddy kink, impact play (one slap to the cheek), dirty talk

MASTERLIST

You’re not sure what has come over you, can’t even remember when you started to have these thoughts, but each drag of your husband’s cock inside the wet heat of your cunt has you on the verge of crying out to him, begging, pleading for his cum and revealing your darkest desires that you kept buried in your mind for so long.

Perhaps it’s the way you’re spread out for him, his hands resting on your thighs to press your knees flush to your chest and fuck you impossibly harder — it’s so filthy and messy that you should be worried your neighbors might hear the lewd sounds your soaked pussy makes, though you’re too far gone in the haze of pleasure and pain to think properly.

“Please... Fuck, please,” you whine, pathetically stumbling over your own words. A low groan tumbles from his lips when he bottoms out, so fascinated by the strings of your slick sticking to the length of his cock that he can’t help but stare at your abused cunt swallowing him greedily as he snaps his hips against yours. The pace he picks up sets every fiber of your being aflame — deep and calculated, hitting the deepest spot inside your quivering pussy with dangerous prowess as he peers down at your flushed face through strands of dark hair falling into his handsome face.

“What do you want, amore?” He asks, his Sicilian accent thick around the syllables. It’s a delight to watch how you shudder whenever his hips hit the curve of your bruised ass, frantically wiggling back to meet his powerful thrusts.

You’re so needy, so desperate to feel every inch of him that it nearly pushes him over the edge — fingers clawing at his biceps, calves trembling on either side of his as he fucks into with brutal force until your eyes cross and you’re reduced to a drooling mess, unable to do anything but moan his name. “Come on, pretty girl. Answer me.”

The reply you give him is merely a broken whisper.

“Want you to cum inside me! P-Please, please, want you to fill me up so bad, want you to give me a baby, fuck—”

Luca’s lips turn into a devilish smile. The satisfaction of getting to hear you say those words burns deliciously in his core and his cock grows impossibly harder, weeping drops of cum as he stills inside your fluttering walls for a torturous second. “Oh, you do? You’re such a good girl for me, begging for my cum like that,” he smirks and leans down to trail open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, baring his teeth to nip at your sensitive skin. “I’ll give you a baby, my love. Gonna make you a mommy, yeah? You want that?”

“Yes, please! I want your cum, I need it,” you whine pathetically, hot tears staining your cheeks as you speak. A fervent kiss is pressed to the inside of your calf, a promise that he’ll give you exactly what you’ve been begging for before he thrusts into your poor cunt with newfound force, pushing you into the pillows as his cock splits you open over and over again.

Your knees are pushed further against your chest and the stretch aches in your muscles, but the new position allows your husband to thrust his cock into the most sensitive part of your pussy — the pleasure you feel after each drag of his tip against that spot is overwhelming, nearly makes you faint if it weren’t for the slap he delivers to your cheek to keep you conscious.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl. Daddy wants to see you fall apart on his cock,” he growls and all you can do is nod vigorously. One of his hands leaves your thigh to sneak between your slick bodies. Clever fingers find your pussy and the sensation of his thumb circling clit coaxes a hoarse scream out of your throat. Your nails dig into his arm and he smirks, relentlessly overstimulating your senses until you’re convinced you’re going to black out any second. “Cum for me, c’mon.. cum for daddy right now, I know you want it.”

The desperation laced into his voice is all it takes. Ecstasy hits you like white-hot lightning and your vision turns black as you scream his name at the top of your lungs. Your legs lock tightly around his head and your fingers claw at the sheets in a knuckle-whitening grip as your entire body trembles under the force of your orgasm that seems to be endless, taking over every inch of your body until your mind goes completely blank. You feel your pussy gush over his girth, drenching his thighs and your ass in your arousal, but you couldn’t care less about the ruined bed when his cock twitches inside your tightening cunt.

“Good fuckin’ girl, gonna get you nice and pregnant with my child,” Luca groans as he delivers one last harsh thrust into your swollen pussy, throbbing cock nudging your cervix as he cums and finally fills you up. His eyebrows furrow and a string of Italian curses leaves his pursed lips. His hips twitch against yours as he stuffs you with a heavy load that’ll surely get you pregnant, but a part of him wants to ensure that you’re thoroughly bred despite the exhaustion in his limbs. “Turn around, amore. You can take one more, can’t you?”

His knuckles graze your jaw, barely a warning before he simply flips you over and sinks his fingers to push his cum back inside.

It's going to be a long night.

#🕷— drabbles #🔪— murderous desire #luca changretta x reader smut #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x fem reader #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #luca changretta x you

[justlulu]

Imagine:Waking up from a nightmare the night before Luca leaves for Birmingham

“Please don’t go.” You try again, knowing all too well how useless your words are. He won’t change his mind after planning this vendetta for over a year.

He only holds you tighter and leaves a soft kiss on your head that’s buried under his chin.

Your tears soak through his shirt as he lets you sob on his chest.

Part of you is angry at him, for being so stubborn to the point he will put his own life at risk for the sake of one that’s already gone, for not caring enough not to leave you alone. But another part is too terrified to find the strength to unlock your arms from his body, so you let yourself bathe in his warmth for as long as you can.

“You’ll have everything you need while I’m gone.” He says, and you shake your head as the words are still coming out of his lips because no, you won’t have what you need.

“I need you..” A sob breaks your voice and the only thing he does is rub a hand on your back, trying to placate your shaking. “What if-“

“Sh..shh..” He interrupts you, knowing where this is going. “I’ll come back to you.”

He slides both hands on your cheeks, holding your face close to his, foreheads almost touching. It’s pitch black in the room, but somehow you can see his eyes.

“I promise.”

You ignore the nauseating feeling your brain sends your guts, and nod your head.

**********

A./N.How would you call this tiny little thing, is it a blurb or what? Anyways, I just thought I’d leave something concrete to compensate my absence. I only read it twice, so I hope it’s not too shitty. Enjoy ;)

xoxo-L

#luca changretta #peaky blinders #bbc peaky blinders #luca changretta x you #luca changretta fluff #luca changretta imagine #fanfic #tv series #imagines #fanfiction #peaky blinders season 4 #italian mafia #luca changretta angst

[og-danny-dorito]

[ 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 ]

no particular reason for this, i just kinda miss writing for them sdjjkdn. this is a pretty select few but if yall want i can make headcanons for some others if requested :]

𝐓𝐖: brief period of sexual content. marked with a yellow [ ⟢ ]

𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

⟢ it kinda depends! for the most part he doesn't really go on dates, but when he does they're pretty private and discreet

⟢ a nice dinner in a high-end restaurant out of town would be nice, preferably in a territory that he has connections with so nothing interrupts you two

⟢ there’s something really sweet and domestic about getting all dressed up, picking you up at your place, and having a casual conversation over dinner that feels like normalcy for him in the hectic shitshow he calls his life

⟢ because of that he really likes just,, spending time with you?? like not really on a date persay, but more like you hang around in his office doing your own work while he does his

⟢ it may not seem like it, but he really appreciates you being there considering how lonely he can get drowning himself in work. when you notice him getting too consumed by it you place your hand on his non dominant one, making him break his eyes away from the paper and let out a little sigh so he can give himself a break for a few seconds

⟢ but yeah anyway something slow paced and calm would be more his style, he’s not really into very social events or loud areas now that he’s grown older so a date at home or a quiet cafe/restaurant would be nice

⟢ (can’t stay out for too long with you though, he’s worried you’ll end up with a bounty over your head because of him)

𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

⟢ honestly dude he just wants to relax like

⟢ he’s not “boring enough” that he doesn’t wanna go out and have a few drinks, but he really appreciates calmness

⟢ like going see a movie is a nice middle ground since you could go hit up a bar after and talk about what you liked and didn’t like over a glass of liquor

⟢ outside of his job he really likes the races too!! he’s not gonna bet anything cause he doesn’t feel like that’s appropriate on a date in his case (unless you say you’re cool with it, he’ll try his best not to start a fight with anyone there for your sake)

⟢ he thinks that going dancing is nice too. he’s not particularly good at it and he finds himself laughing a little when you trip over your own feet, but when he looks at you enjoying yourself it gets harder and harder to pay attention to the world around him enough to feel embarrassed

𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

⟢ dude honestly?? i feel like he’s a sucker for the “night on the town” trope

⟢ like yeah all that sappy stuff is cute and all, but he wants to have fun. more so he wants to have fun with you.

⟢ of course his definition of “fun” is just running around starting shit, but if you’re into causing a little trouble and then messily making out in an alleyway what’s there not to love??

⟢ he’s all about starting a ruckus, and if he has a gorgeous person by his side to do it with him he’s over the moon

⟢ going out with him means you’re probably going out with a few of your friends too since he really likes being surrounded by people, but he’s probably going to just grab you by the wrist and drag you off somewhere halfway through his drinks anyway

⟢ the two of you either end up back at the base (somehow) missing half of your clothes, or woken up by a cop cause you were sleeping in the park cuddling like it was your bed back home

𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

⟢ i have had the headcanon that this man is soft since the beginning of my writings for peaky blinders and i refuse to go back on it goddammit

⟢ he’s SO sweet. like so sweet it’s almost painful he just loves all that sappy shit

⟢ dude picnics? sign him tf up. he likes to eat and he likes to watch birds, and he likes the little laugh you let out when he groans to sit down properly because his back doesn’t cooperate with him anymore

⟢ like tommy he’s not really into anything terribly social or loud now that he’s mature and has to deal with that on a daily basis, but he doesn’t mind going out for a drink with you in the places that be knows you’ll be safe in

⟢ that, or if you’re not feeling up to it you could come over to his house and he could make you dinner

⟢ alfie’s a really passionate guy, so if you’re not averse to sex he’s more than happy to spend the entire date just lazily sucking you off/eating you out on his couch

⟢ it doesn’t feel like any of the sex you’ve ever had before, especially with how much he pays attention to and how his pleasure seems entirely focused on your own

⟢ it’s almost like he gets off to feeling your body constrict and writhe underneath him, even somewhat having a conversation with you if you’re not too breathless (you are, he’s insanely good at pleasuring you with his mouth it’s actually kind of aggravating)

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚

⟢ he wants to take you out to eat almost every time you two go out

⟢ he usually just makes the excuse “im italian, we like to eat” but it’s also because it’s the safest option considering he owns a lot of the restaurants y’all go to

⟢ that and he likes to eat

⟢ if you wanna try something different he’s all ears, down for almost anything you want since he’d do anything to please his angel

⟢ hes also just down to walk around New York City and look at the lights, talking about things that most normal couples would like bad coworkers and weather preferences

⟢ when he's around you he doesn't like to focus on work too much since it makes him feel like he's not giving you enough of his attention

⟢ likes to say that he's not into the sappy shit but he's a hopeless romantic at heart

⟢ will definitely take you to a nice dinner in a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant and asks you to dance like you haven't done it millions of times before

⟢ he sings the lyrics of the song to you in your ear while you sway and you giggle every time he places kisses on your neck and whispers things into your skin

⟢ generally just very soft and romantic, and most definitely walks you home/walks home with you after

{ 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 :) }

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby imagine #arthur shelby #arthur shelby headcanon #arthur shelby imagine #john shelby #john shelby headcanon #john shelby imagine #alfie solomons #alfie solomons headcanons #alfie solomons imagine #luca changretta #luca changretta headcanon #luca changretta imagine #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x you #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #john shelby x reader #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x reader

[mlmxreader]

Busted | Luca Changretta x gn!reader

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

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

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

word count: 782

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ti amo con tutto il cuore.” 

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

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

“Forgive me?”

You shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”

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

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

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

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

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