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heracletology · 3 years ago

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The Wedding Night

pairing: Luca Changretta x Shelby!OC

summary: Tommy notices the way Luca looks at his sister upon meeting her and decides that a marriage to connect the two families would be the best way to end the vendetta and avoid further loss and violence, but she doesn’t immediately warm up to the idea.

warnings: non-graphic sexual content, arranged marriage, angst, suicidal thoughts, fluff, happy ending

word count: 1777

author’s note: so, this is the first one-shot I’ve ever written and published, so bear with me)) also I finished this at one a.m. and even though I did proofread, I really can’t guarantee that there are no grammar errors🥲

The first time Helen Shelby met Luca Changretta, she was with Tommy in his office, wasting both of their time. He was brought in by a worker, introduced as a Frenchman from Paris, but Tommy seemed to know better. Keeping Helen out of sight as much as possible, he proceeded to have the most tense and, in Helen’s opinion, the most terrifying conversation ever with a result being a vendetta and a promise to kill everyone — including Helen, Ada, Polly, Finn and Michael, who had nothing to do with the murder of Luca Changretta’s father, Vicente Changretta.

Helen could feel the man’s eyes on her throughout the conversation, and so could Tommy, which is why in the middle of it he had decided to send her out of the room and told her to go straight to Polly’s. For the rest of the day Helen was worried, constantly pacing back and forth the house, much to Polly’s annoyance. Luca had practically stripped her with his eyes, and Helen wasn’t sure she trusted Tommy’s moral compass enough to make a good decision and not offer her to him in order to stop the vendetta and avoid further pain and violence — after all, he had arranged John to marry Esme years ago for the same reasons; to bring peace between the Peaky Blinders and the Lee family. Who was to promise her that Tommy wouldn’t try to play that card again?

“He wouldn’t do something like that to you,” Polly had said, but it seemed like she wasn’t quite sure of that herself, and was trying to assure herself rather than assure her niece.

And then Tommy came home after dark, called a family meeting and told everyone the news. The vendetta would end on the condition that the two families are connected. Everybody immediately knew what that meant. Without saying a word, Helen stumbled back, falling on the sofa, the world before her eyes spinning. Arthur resorted to throwing a bottle of whiskey on the ground before storming off to compose himself, Finn and Michael appeared to be flabbergasted, and Ava and Polly were yelling at Tommy, but none of it was up for discussion, Tommy had just informed everyone of how it was going to be.

In that moment no one paid attention to the person this all directly affected and the real victim of Tommy’s poor decision making — Helen. She sat on that sofa wordlessly, trying to make sense of it all. Was she truly to marry the man responsible for her brother’s death? How could Tommy allow it? Did he truly care so little for her that he was willing to do something like that just to make peace for his fuckup? And so she burst into tears, crying like the ferocity of it could turn back the time and let her avoid meeting that man altogether.

“Helen,” Tommy kneeled down in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. “Listen to me. This is the only way, you hear me? There’s nothing I can do. You’ve got nothing to worry about, that bastard won’t hurt you, and if he ever does, the deal will be off and I will fucking kill him. You hear me?” Helen nodded curtly, her shoulders still shaking with sobs. “Good,” he pat her cheek. “Good. Now, go for a walk or something, I have matters to attend to.”

Choking with tears, Helen excused herself and hastily left the room. Grabbing her coat from the rack, she walked out of the house. Ada and Polly didn’t follow her, figuring she needed some time to herself.

She had been out for hours and, no doubt, her family was worried sick — for all they knew she left the house, kept on walking and would never come back or, even worse, decided to kill herself. And they wouldn’t have been wrong to be worried, that night Helen seriously considered suicide — as she walked over the bridge, she wondered what would happen if she were to just slip and fall into the dirty water, be carried away with the current. No one would find her until it would be too late.

She took a step forward and with a deep frown and lips slightly parted, she stepped on the railing, fitting her feet as though trying to test how she could fall and make it look like an accident. Then suddenly as though with a snap of someone’s fingers, she realised what she was doing and immediately recoiled back, almost tripping over her feet, violently shaking. With her own thoughts scaring her, she rushed back to the main street and began to hurriedly head home, breathing heavily, arms wrapped around her shoulders.

John and Esme were the only people who could have helped her, but both of them were now gone. John was dead and Esme had left with the children never to be seen again leaving Helen all alone to deal with this situation. Ada and Polly would help her as much as they could, but neither could put themselves in her shoes; neither of them would ever go through what she was going through.

But John and Esme had made it work. They were in love with each other. Why would it be different for Helen? Could she make it work with Changretta? Would he be willing to try to make it work? He must have felt something to agree to the marriage in the first place. Could she love the man who killed her brother?

That was weeks ago and now was now.

In her magnificent, white wedding dress Helen stood without moving, looking out of the window overlooking the yard. The wedding was over and it was time for the night Helen had been most nervous about — the wedding night. Now that she knew Luca better, she wasn’t as terrified as she had been the night she was told she was to marry him, but still, she was worried how it would go. Would he even want to sleep with her? Helen couldn’t say she was dying to lay with him, but she wasn’t completely against it — she just wouldn’t be the one to make the first move.

She heard faint rustling behind her, and glanced into the faint reflections of the window. Her faced showed in the windowpane as a smudge oval with hair falling on her shoulders in waves — she had insisted that she wanted to keep her hair down and no one dared to contradict the bride. The door behind her opened and Luca’s figure moved dimly in the glass like someone seen underwater, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him before taking off the suit jacket.

“Did the last guests leave?” Helen asked without turning around.

“Yeah.” He sauntered forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes. “Care to share your thoughts?”

“About what?”

“The wedding.” He took a loud breath and opened his eyes to look at their smudged reflections.

“I think,” she began, moving her hand to wrap it around his neck. “That I wasn’t given a choice. Both outcomes were radical but only one would ruin our lives.”

“Which one?” Luca inquired, pressing his lips to her neck.

“The vendetta.” Helen looked away from their reflections, frowning. “I can’t say I like it, but I understand why you did what you did. Your brother and father were killed, and you came to take avenge them. I know for a fact that Tommy would have done the exactly same thing if that happened to us.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured into her skin. “And I won’t do anything that you don’t feel comfortable with. For now we can just sleep, if you wish to do so.”

Helen turned around, looking into his eyes. She had not yet seen this side of Luca — soft and caring. Up until now she had seen a tough Italian gangster who didn’t care much about anything or anyone except perhaps his mother.

Helen hadn’t lied about what she had said. She sincerely believed that Luca and Tommy had more in common than either would have liked to think. Tommy would have done exactly the same thing Luca did should he have killed one of his siblings or a family member. Tommy was as much of a villain in Luca’s eyes as Luca was in Tommy’s. It all depended on the point of view.

Hesitantly, Helen gripped at the sides of his dress shirt, raising on her tip toes to press a small, almost weightless kiss on the corner of his lips before looking away, her face burning brighter than a ripe tomato.

Flustered, she tried to back away from his hands, but before she could, he bent his head to kiss her. It went on a long while, and his hands roamed downwards, finding the zipper of her dress. It fell on the floor around her ankles, leaving her with nothing. One hand on the nape of her neck, he allowed her to help him take the dress shirt off.

“I… I’ve never done anything before,” she whispered a little out of breath, resting her palm on his.

“Then I’ll show you just what you’ve missed out on,” he said, pulling her close again and she shivered from emotion, the champagne, or cold.

Suddenly he lifted her in his arms and sat down on the bed, holding her on his lap. He spoke a little horsely: “Tell me if I’m being too rough…”

He laid her down on the soft silky sheets, arms encircling her as she nervously fumbled with the buckle before she managed unclasp it, relieving him of the trousers. In that moment it was the two of them, and Helen didn’t care about anything — it was just the two of them on their wedding night, enjoying each other in the darkness of the night. She threw her head back, a soft moan escaping her lips. She could feel his fingers in her hair, and the other hand roughly gripping at her waist. Rocking back against the pillows, her moans were muffled by his lips, and her body began to tremble with pleasure.

As her body reached its climax, she unwittingly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling Luca against her, connecting their lips for the last sweet kiss before he rolled over, pulling her against his chest. He rested his head on top of her chest, breathing almost as heavily as she did. Curling against him, Helen closed her eyes, hoping that this wasn’t a mistake and that things could only get better from here.

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