#Luca Changretta smut

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Hungry - A Luca Changretta/Reader Smut Drabble.

He's making me a very horny woman this afternoon, besties. I'm sharing the feeling. You're welcome.

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

"Tell me, baby. What you hungry for, huh?"

That silken rasp. His voice sets your nerves to quiver every time you hear it, especially when it's deepened, thickened by the heat of his arousal.

"You, love," you purr, feeling his fingertip slide down the centre of your body, his thumb coming to rest upon your clit, slowly, deliciously rubbing back and forth until your back arches.

"Specifically."

Licking your lips, you look up at him, eyes pleading, your hunger like uncontained wildfire. "Your cock."

He smirks, moving closer, taking his erection and teasing your folds with it before arrowing into you so deep, your eyes roll back in your head. He hisses a groan, feeling you flex around him, wet, syrupy heat enclosing around him, pulling back slowly.

His hips snap forward, the thrust brutal, smiling at the sound it tears from your throat, fingers reading the goose pimples flecking your skin like braille. "And look at how well you take this big cock, my good girl. Gonna fuck you 'till you cry, doll."

Soft moans flutter over your lips, reaching for him, pulling him close as your tongues entwine in an erotic dance, already feeling drunk on the sensation of a perfect, thick cock filling and emptying you.

"You'd better."

[zablife]

*Skids to a halt after crashing through inbox door* DID SOMEBODY SAY SLEEPOVER? I am here, bestie!

Can I please request something spicy for my Italian husband? I will let you have creative choice over scenario. I’m craving some Luca smut in whatever form! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Tysm for your request, Claire! I had so many ideas I wanted to share, but settled on this naughty encounter about the first time Luca makes you squirt. I would apologize for my filthy imagination, but I'm not sorry in the slightest 😂 I hope you enjoy!

18+ MDNI

Let Me Spoil You

"Luca, I'm not sure I can," you whimpered, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you studied him nervously. "I've never done this before."

"Then it's a good thing I have," he teased, sucking at the ticklish spot near your hipbone as your breathy moans filled the air. Pulling away to tongue the blossoming bruise, a mischievous smile spread across his lips as he returned his attention to your sticky inner thighs, peppering them with delicate kisses.

"Let me spoil you, principessa," he begged as though he hadn't already spent the entire evening lavishing you with attention.

You gulped and nodded slowly, opening your legs wider to welcome his touch. With a hitch of breath, you felt his long fingers slide against your dewy folds once more and into the tight clutch of your cunt.

Green eyes sparkling with nefarious delight, he wasted no time seeking the soft, spongy spot inside you that turned your legs to jelly. As he added firm pressure and lapped gently at your clit, the warmth in your belly returned with rapid speed.

Soft pants turned to whimpers as your hand fumbled in Luca's dark curls, grasping a bit too tightly as your brow furrowed at the odd tingling sensation. He drank in your adorable look of confusion, smirking at the memory of the times before when you'd stopped him, insisting you'd wet yourself if he continued. As he predicted you began to whine in a familiar high pitched wail that made his cock ache. "It's too much, Luca! I'm gonna...gonna..."

"Shhh, angel, you're doing so well for me," he cooed without giving you reprieve. Crooking his fingers against your sensitive walls in such a way that had you clamping down, hips bucking against him. He held you against the mattress with his muscular forearm, watching your face and neck begin to flush with the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, taunting, “You want it, don't you?"

A sizzle of electricity charged down your spine as he pumped his fingers within you, forcing shuddered breaths from your trembling body. Knowing you were staving off the inevitable, Luca added another finger, betting you wouldn't be able to fight the exquisite feeling of fullness. As your back arched against him, he praised, "You look so fuckin' beautiful like this." Then in that deep, commanding voice you couldn't ignore, "Cum for me, gorgeous."

Before you knew what was happening, a wave of pleasure crashed over you, black spots dancing across your vision as your legs shook. Luca moaned appreciatively as the first gush of fluid drenched his wrist, opposite hand pressing down on your abdomen to coax another squirt from your pulsing cunt. As your head dropped to your shoulder in exhaustion, Luca watched a little puddle collect with a swell of pride.

Focused on the pleasant little aftershocks rippling through your spent body, you were only vaguely aware of him withdrawing his fingers from you. The lewd squelching sound was soon replaced with the satisfied grunt of a man tasting his victory and you began to giggle. You'd never met a man who enjoyed giving pleasure so much as Luca Changretta.

He took such good care of you as evidenced by the gentle way he woke you after you'd drifted off to sleep, insistent on bathing you and changing the sheets before bedtime. Carrying you toward the bathroom for a hot soak in the tub, he nuzzled your check and whispered soft words of praise. “I knew you could do it, angel.”

Zablife Sleepover

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@red-riding-wood

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@stilestotherescue 

@helen06dreamer

@chaosinkest1996 

@pietroxreader 

@galactict3a

@ietss

@mostly-marvel-musings

@writeroutoftime

@yolobloggers

@outlanderuniverse

@anilovessadbooks

@tremendousstarlighttragedy

@elliaze

@leenieweenie

@snickersmee

@niktwazny303

@thomashelbyswife

@garrison-girl-08

@allie131313

@shelby-fangirl00

@beastofburdenxo

@ryecosse

@skydisneylover

@already-broken144

@mcumorningstar

@jaymcdowell

@iwantanoldfashionedmillionaire

@justlulu

[justlulu]

🔥Sex with the Peaky Blinder boys🔥

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

⚠️my very PERSONAL opinion ⚠️

Tommy Shelby

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

Alfie Solomons

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

Luca Changretta

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

John Shelby

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

Arthur Shelby

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

—

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

-lulu🤍

[evita-shelby]

Hi Juli!!

I saw the prompt list you reblogged and was wondering if you would be interested in writing something for Luca with "smile for me" or, "twirl for me" ??

Thanks so much if you choose to! 🥰

Thanks for the request K, i ended up using both prompts and it came out very dirty 🙈

Modern!Luca x reader x Eva Smith

Cw: older man/younger woman, lingerie kink, allusions to a threesome and polyamory, boss/secretary

Gif by @severousse

Two for One

You knew the risks of a job like this.

Luca Changretta owned everything from priceless jewelry to apparel you could never dream of affording. He was also so, so sexy.

Tall, handsome, charming when he wanted to be and gave every indication that he was fantastic under the sheets.

He has a fiancé, a beautiful woman who matches his appeal in a way you didn’t think was humanly possible. A shipping heiress with a bleeding heart. You wonder how she still has mountains of cash with how much she throws at every charity in her way.

Once she gave you her diamond earrings when you complimented them.

And because the soon-to-b Mrs. Changretta was so like that, it makes your crush on your boss so much worse.

But you want him, and he wants you going by how intensely he stares at you going about your business at the office.

“I have a job for you, Y/N.” he says in that low grave voice of his that has you ready to drop on your knees if he asked.

He wants you to try go shopping with him and model for him somethings Eva would get as a gift. You were the same size as her and would keep anything you liked.

You agreed to do it before he even finished asking.

He smirks, eyes you like he wants to consume you and you know the day will end with something even better than fancy clothes and champagne: him.

“Twirl for me.” He orders you as you come out of the dressing room in the lingerie he’s ordered in advance.

Luca has taken pictures of you in everything you’ve tried on, from the jewelry to the shoes. You had gotten so aroused when he mentioned coming to this shop.

He has good taste and a very filthy mind. Everything is elegant yet as scandalous as you can get. Eva was a lucky woman; you think as you model something that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“You look so good like that, pussycat.” The Italian smirks as he notes how desperate you are for him. “Doesn’t she, Eva?”

That is when you notice the other woman coming to join you in the luxury dressing room wearing almost as little as you.

“She does, mi amor. Now, Y/N, are you opposed to having two for the price of one?” the woman responds and seductively approaches you.

You can’t deny you want both of these people, a dream you’ve had ever since you met her and were given a glimpse into just how it would be to be railed by your boss.

“Smile for me, y/n.” Luca says as you let the bewitching Miss. Smith make your wildest dream come true.

[warnersister]

“Ultimatum” Luca Changretta x Reader

Luca Changretta x reader, Thomas Shelby x sister!reader

Tommy has a choice. Your life or many.

“So, what will it be… hmm, Shelby?” Changretta asked, arm wrapped tightly but not constricting around your neck as your brother refused to meet your eyes. You were swaying slightly as a large gust of wind blow you, its cruel breath frosty and sharp.

You were stood atop a building, a tall building. It’s lankiness had never intimidated you nor even crossed your mind until that moment but now you had decided that heights weren’t for you. You were stood with several members of the Mafia, reason being your brother’s stupid Vendetta. They’d taken you in the dead of night - tied you loosely with rough ropes and blindfolded you with Luca Changretta’s own tie.

They’d woken you at dawn and Luca spoon fed you a meal, explain where you were and why and what could happen that day. And that he wouldn’t kill you but your brother could.

You were situated parallel to your brother, who was stood watching the situation unravel before him - the Italians threatening to drop you off the side of his very own building as an ultimatum for this Vendetta. The Birmingham council members were stood looking up at the bottom, pistols pointed to each of the politicians temples.

“Your sister or your precious council?” Time seemed to stop, Luca leant you back slightly so your tiptoes were barely on the ledge, desperately clawing at his forearm to stay on the side of the living. ‘Please’ you mouthed to your brother, eyes teary and vision blurry. His expression turned from remorseful back to that cold; expressionless, merciless Thomas Shelby you were so familiar with.

“I’m sorry yn” he said, but you knew he wasn’t. He spun on a pivot and left you for dead. All to protect his reputation as a politician. You screamed out, awaiting your demise and to be dropped to a sudden and messy death.

But suddenly you were pulled back from the edge and onto the safety of the rooftop, Luca spinning you into his chest and shaking his head, studying your terrified face. “I would’ve saved you.” He whispered.

[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

[flowermoonsblog]

PEAKY BLINDERS FANDOM Can someone point me to fan fiction about Ada and Isaiah (whether they're here or on other writing sites). After watching 6X3, I was enchanted by their chemistry and sexual tension. I would enjoy reading more about it.‼️🙏🏽🙏🏽

[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.”  

[zablife]

NSFW alphabet ask please and thank you! I can’t remember what they all stand for though so I’m just picking random letters 😂 Apologies if you’ve done any of these already 😘

E and L for Luca? (Cos I bet you get loads for Tommy)

Hey Alex! I haven't received any NSFW alphabet requests for Luca so I'd be happy to write these! (Btw I didn't realize I never posted the key as to what the letters stand for. Sorry, darling! You can find it here.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Eager to prove his masculinity to the scores of male role models in his life, Luca lost his virginity early and slept around often. He prob went a bit too far in his early twenties as he was accused of ruining reputations. However, bc of his father's position and Luca's departure for America, he never found himself at the end of a shotgun. Needles to say, he's quite experienced. Oral sex happens to be his speciality due to his fixation on having something in his mouth at all times. He is very skilled with his tongue and he likes to tease. But make no mistake, his ability to bring you to an earth shattering climax is demonstrated many times over in a single evening.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I don't see Luca being wildly creative when it comes to location and def nothing public. Instead, he prefers comfort and privacy bc he likes to take his time. However, he's all about luxurious romance and would gladly spoil you by reserving a fancy hotel suite or even an entire villa. He's sure to have your fave flowers and wine as well music playing when you arrive. Setting the right mood is of the utmost importance to him bc with age has come an appreciation for doing things correctly. For Luca, good sex is like a good meal, an experience which is meant to be savored.

Zablife Sleepover

[evita-shelby]

12 Days of Smuff: Day 3

Day 3: in nature + deep-throating

Luca Changretta x Eva Smith

Cw: hiking, mentions of bear shit and smut.

The only reason he had agreed to give the country club a chance was because it was a symbol of wealth.

Luca had grown in cities, the only nature he knew of was the one in parks and gardens.

His wife had split her time between various country homes even when she was in boarding school in the capital city. She had readily accepted the cottage her family leased every summer at the rather exclusive country club before Luca could pretend to have an opinion about it.

After the loss of their first child, Luca didn’t like denying her anything and he saw no problem in spending a week in upstate New York doing whatever the fuck rich people do in the country.

“We should go for walk today.” Eva said dressing in utilitarian clothing he had never seen and tossed him clothes he doesn’t recall ever being fitted for.

Tweed clothes, the hardy kind men wear for work. Like the one the Shelbys would wear because that’s all they had.

But he trusts his maga and wears them to their hike. It was just a walk anyways, nothing special about it just like the swimming and the games here.

“Eva, I think we should stick to the path.” The Italian Capo says as he evades the bear shit on the ground.

Knowing his wife, they might as well be going to see the bears.

“Trust me, its going to be worth it.” The witch says when they leave the clearly outlined paths and walk past the signs that warn of bears.

It isn’t.

There are bugs, more shit, dead animals in various states of decay and they don’t seem to be getting anywhere.

Eva isn’t bothered at all, chatting and telling him how close they are to their destination while looking as fresh as a daisy.

“I fucking hate this place, why did I listen to you?” he complains after they stop for a break in a clearing.

“Because I am always right.” Eva doesn’t look bothered by his words. In fact, she was counting on it going by the way she kissed him against the tree. “Anyways, we’re here.”

At some point she admitted that she wanted to fuck in the woods, to see the trees and the skies as he ruined her pussy where no one but God could see them.

Luca supposed it was all worth it when Eva got on her knees for him.

She had a wicked mouth, one that had him grateful to god that the man who taught her how to do this was already dead.

His hand threads itself in her hair and pulls at the ponytail she wears for the occasion. He thrusts deeper into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat with a groan.

Eva had learned to take him all the way by the time they came back from Italy, plenty of practice with how greedy his pussycat was for his cock.

“You can suck out my soul through my cock, strega, but we’re never doing this again.” The Capo warned as he stopped her ministrations before sinking down her throat before fucking her face in earnest.

[little-diable]

Make a man quiver – Tommy Shelby (smut)

I have to say, I absolutely adore this piece, I hope y'all will love it as much! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader has been hired by the Italians to kill Tommy Shelby, knowing all of his weaknesses for beautiful women. She is a feared phantom, a woman with a high kill streak. But perhaps they underestimated Tommy's hunger for blood and reputation.

Warnings: 18+, smut, public piv, unprotected piv, betrayal, weapons and blood, but a cheeky ending

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (4k words)

“Please, I’m so hungry.” She was kneeling on the ground, eyes staring ahead at the people walking past her. People who didn’t look at her once. People who’d rather laugh about her than give her any of their money. Anger flushed through her whenever they ignored her, not even sparing her a glance as if she was invisible.

“Please,” no other word managed to overcome her lips, unable to beg for things she didn’t truly need. It was a dangerous game, a game that could end with her life on the line, killed by those who forced her to kneel on that very spot. But she had always been fascinated by a good gamble, unable to say no even if she could end up with a bullet piercing her head. 

She could still hear the words they had spoken to her, voices dripping with that rich Italian accent she had once loved but now hated. They had forced her to give in, knowing how to get their hands on the woman who was known as the ruthless one, the reckless one, the one even Death feared. 

“Fuck, I can’t do this shit.” Her words were met with a chuckle, eyes forced off the ground to meet a pair of bright ones. Arthur Shelby was standing in front of her, hands pushed into the pockets of his trousers, a cigarette between his lips. 

“I doubt that’s how you get any money, love.” His raspy words left her giggling, shaking her head with a soft smile he clearly mistook for embarrassment. His bright eyes wandered over her dirty features for a few moments, taking in the torn garments she wore, the bloody wounds gracing her arms. “What’s your name?”

“Mira,” the lie rolled off her tongue all too quickly, (y/n) had lost count on the fake names she had been forced to use – once she had chosen those that had some sentimental touch to them, something to remember those that were no longer part of her life, but by now she chose whatever came to mind first. Her soul had changed, the kind-hearted girl she had once been had disappeared from her, letting go as if she had been washed away by the tide, dragged into the salty ocean without anything to hold onto. Now she was nothing more than the shell of the woman she had been before the war.

“Come, let’s get some food into your body, Mira. I’m Arthur.” He reached a hand out for her to take, pulling her to her aching feet with one tug. Arthur wrapped one arm around her shoulder, keeping (y/n) pressed to his side as he guided her down the street.

This had been easy, almost too easy. And yet (y/n) couldn’t help but thank her lucky stars since this was what she had been hoping for. 

“Want to tell me how you got those cuts?” Her gaze found the cuts littering her arms, eyes momentarily growing glassy as she was forced to remember her last interaction with Luca Changretta. 

“Listen to me carefully, (y/n),” Luca Changretta had his hand placed on her cheeks, tightly squeezing them to force her to look at him. He was towering over her, with a knife in his hand, seemingly enjoying the way her blood dripped from the shiny blade. “You know that this is payback, don’t you?”

“For what? Not letting you fuck me?” He had first appeared at her house last week, inviting himself in with a sickenly-sweet grin glued to his lips. Perhaps he had hoped that his charm would work on her, perhaps he had hoped that he could fuck her into oblivion and then force her to work for him, whatever it was he had hoped for, it hadn’t happened. Within minutes she had pierced a knife into his thigh, forcing him out of her house with threats rolling off her tongue. 

“You know, I was surprised to hear that you were allowed to return to this country after the things you’ve done. Who did you fuck for that to happen?” Luca moved even closer, she could feel his breath fanning her face, making her thrash in his hold. She had never felt fear, and yet she was all too used to the feeling of disgust men like Luca Changretta forced through her system. 

“You’re wasting my time here if you want to talk about old times.” Her voice was emotionless, cold eyes staring at the grinning mobster. Two could play this game, a game she had never lost before, no matter how many times knifes had been forced into her skin, cutting her once spotless body. 

“You killed my cousin, did you know that? Of course you didn’t, mercenaries never cared about those they killed. But now it’s time for your apology, (y/n).” 

“Mira?” Arthur murmured her name, forcing her out of her memory. She had to blink a few times, had to clear her throat before she could speak up. 

“You know how it is, as a woman living on the street you’re never safe.” The hum leaving Arthur managed to calm her nerves, hoping that he wouldn’t force her to speak any more lies for at least a few more minutes. She wasn’t a stranger to playing these roles, wasn’t a stranger to the game of fooling men like Arthur, and yet she hated doing this to the family she had always admired, a family she had always wanted to work for. 

“You’re not a picky eater, are you?” (Y/n) stared at Arthur for a second as he held open the door to The Garrison for her, waiting for her to enter.

“Because I’m homeless and a beggar?” He choked on his breath, cheeks growing rosy at her teasing tone. The laugh that clawed through (y/n) echoed through the room, forcing eyes towards the two of them. Arthur didn’t reply to her teasing, he only pulled her through the Garrison towards a table where she could spot a few familiar faces, but especially the one she had hoped to cross paths with, Tommy Shelby.

“Here, sit. John, get Mira some food.” It took the younger Shelby brother a moment to rise to his feet, eyes flickering between his brother and (y/n). No words were spoken as John disappeared, allowing (y/n) to relax in the chair for a second before she caught Tommy’s curious gaze. 

“We were looking for someone to help around here, eh? Mira’s perfect for the job.” Her pupils grew wider, wondering where Arthur was going with this. Had he already taken a liking to her? Was he always this foolish to invite strangers to work for them?

“And why is that?” Goosebumps rose on (y/n)’s forearms at the sound of Tommy’s rich voice, smoother than the expensive clothing she’d wear at home, wrapping itself around her like a snake slithering up her limbs. He emanate danger, a sensation (y/n) had always found herself addicted to. She’d win this game, even if it meant killing Tommy Shelby. 

“I’m a fast learner, and I have no trouble with fighting off drunkards, that’s all it takes, isn’t it?” The brothers laughed in unison, intently studying her as John placed some soup down for her. Her stomach was in knots, begging her not to eat something, and yet (y/n) knew she had to sell her story, hastily shoving the soup down her throat. 

“Seems like we’ll have to work on your manners first, love.”

……

“Evening, Tommy.” (Y/n) shot him a quick smile as she walked past him, carrying empty glasses towards the bar. She didn’t hear the soft reply leaving him, didn’t pick up on the smile he wore. 

It had been a few weeks since Arthur had first dragged her to The Garrison, clueslessly allowing the enemy to join their forces. Within days she had managed to wrap the Shelby men around her fingers, with a special focus on Tommy. As much as she hated to admit it, her heart skipped a few beats whenever he was close, attention drawn to him like a moth to a flame. A flame she couldn’t kill, needing the light to survive. 

“Mira,” he called for her, catching her curious gaze. Smoke left his nostrils as he pointed towards the chair next to him. The Garrison was empty by now, with just the two of them left behind. Slowly she rounded the bar to walk towards him, plopping down in the chair. Tommy reached a cigarette out for her to take, alighting it for her as his piercing eyes burned into her skin. 

“Tell me about you, Mira.” He intently watched her as if he could see straight through her facade, uncovering every layer that hid her true identity. But (y/n) didn’t give in that easily, she took a deep inhale, letting the smoke blow out into the barely alight room, her eyes locked with his. 

“There’s not much to tell, I lost both my parents before the war, and I have no family left. Nobody was in need for a woman like me, so I had to find ways to survive.” The day she had been invited into the Garrison she had been invited to stay with Arthur for a while, knowing that she had to take on the offer, if she wanted to sell her story. It hadn’t taken her long to move out though, explaining that with the money she was making now she could afford living on her own. 

“Well, we’re certainly glad we got you around now.” Her chuckles left Tommy grinning, an unfamiliar sight her heart enjoyed a tad bit too much. Deep down she knew that this was her chance, the moment she had been waiting for. All she had been planning for was getting in a room with Tommy, without any other Shelby’s near. But now she didn’t want to move, didn’t even want to think about killing him, not today. “You’re a distracting sight, Mira.” 

“Am I? How so?” She leaned forward, it was a bold move, a move that seemed to do the trick on Tommy. Slowly he cupped her cheek, thumb running over her lower lip. She felt her heart racing, pounding in her chest as if Tommy was about to rip it from her. 

“I think you know the answer to that.” Her body begged her to cross the distance between them, her eyes met his for a second, wondering if he’d pull away, but Tommy didn’t move as if he was giving her the chance to break their contact apart. Slowly (y/n) crossed the distance between them, lips meeting Tommy’s for a slow kiss. He tasted of whisky, of cigarettes, and of something she had never got to experience before, of home. 

Within seconds Tommy had pulled her into his lap, letting the kiss grow rougher with his hands wandering down her sides. Their cigarettes were long forgotten, burning out while Tommy’s hands disappeared beneath her dress. Moans clawed through her as his fingers found her cunt, groaning at the wetness growing between her thighs.

“Should we do this here?” (Y/n) murmured her words against his lips, gasping as he rose to his feet with her clinging to him. Tommy pushed her down on the table, standing between her thighs. For a second all they did was stare at one another, gazes filled with lust, anticipation, something that made (y/n) forget about what she was supposed to do. 

“It’s just us here, love, I wouldn’t let anybody else see you.” Tommy fumbled with his trousers, freeing his twitching cock within moments. Both were too riled up to care about slow touches, needing to feel one another close, buried deep inside of her with his cock stretching her walls. Tommy spat into his palm to lube himself up, and within seconds he had pushed into her. 

Both groaned inn unison at the intrusion, not giving them any time to adjust as their bodies begged for more. Tommy fucked her ruthlessly, cock disappearing deep inside of her with every thrust. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, keeping Tommy close as she lost her grip on reality. 

“Fuck, Tommy. You’re so big.” The grin he wore had a devilish touch to it, leaving her to wonder if it was truly Tommy who was fucking her or a demon taking on his features. And in that very moment, she began to pick up on the way he was making her feel, something no other man had ever pushed through her. 

His fingers found her pulsing bundle, drawing curses from her parted lips as if they were composing a symphony, set on creating the most beautiful sounds. It was a sight so raw, a sight so familiar, both could’t help but chase the release that was about to push through them any moment now. 

“Such a pretty sight, it’s a miracle no other man has claimed you.” His rough voice left her gasping, pushed into the open arms of her orgasm. Tommy fucked her through her high, watching her fall apart beneath him with twinkling eyes burning into her skin. He followed her a few moments later, pulling out of her to stain her thighs. 

“I guess I’m the lucky man who’s able to claim you, eh?” 

……

“I expected better from you.” Luca Changretta’s voice filled her house, drawing a gasp from (y/n) as she stepped into the dark room. She flickered on the light with a snarl leaving her, hand reaching for her gun to point it at Luca. It was a useless threat as he was accompanied by his men, and yet she was tired of this game, of the smugness he emanated. 

“You should have known that I don’t do deals.” The chuckle that ripped through the mobster left (y/n) tensing, keeping her distance as she poured herself a glass of brown liquid. He watched her every move, watched her plop down on the couch close to the chair he was sitting in. Their eyes didn’t break contact once, not as she alighted a cigarette, not as he cocked his gun to point it at her. 

“I thought you were smarter than that, (y/n). There’s no way out of this for you, but it’ll certainly help my reputation when word get’s around that I was the one who killed the sunflower.” A scoff left (y/n) at the use of the name, a name she had been given years ago, a flower that would always follow the direction of the sun, always relying on the promise of money rather than love and friendship. 

“You won’t kill me, Luca. Maybe I underestimated you, you’re tougher than your cousin, I give you that. But you need me, if you want Tommy Shelby dead.” She spoke her words with a grin, a lie that rolled off her tongue all too easily. (Y/n) couldn’t remember Luca’s cousin, a man she had seemingly killed in Italy, a man she had no memory of, washed away by the things she had been forced to do as a mercenary, joining armies all over the continent, hiding her true female identity from the men who blindly trusted her, a snake amongst dogs. 

“I want him dead by six pm tomorrow, if you don’t deliver me his head I’ll kill you in front of the whole Shelby clan myself.” Her chuckles were humourless, spluttering out of her with her eyes zoning in on Luca. She could tell that he was spurred on by his fear, filling his every vein like poison. A clear advantage for a woman as ruthless as her. 

“Get out of my house while you can still walk, Changretta.” 

……

With a yawn leaving her, (y/n) stepped into The Garrison. It was still early, and yet she had expected the place to be packed with people already, those who turned towards a glass of alcohol in the morning hours to forget about the things that haunted them late at night. Yet the place was completely empty as she stepped foot into it.

(Y/n) rounded the bar to place her jacket down, she rolled her sleeves up her forearms to start her work on the dirty glasses that needed a good scrubbing. And yet she didn’t get far, eyes shooting up from the glass to find the Shelby men entering the room. She could instantly tell that something was off, forcing (y/n) to straighten her spine. 

Tommy, Arthur and John were studying her, wordlessly letting their eyes wander over her features for a few seconds. Without trying to move too much, she lifted her skirt, reaching for the gun she carried. Soundlessly she placed it down next to her, wondering how this situation would play out.

“Tell us, Mira, how do you know Luca Changretta?” Tommy took a step closer, and another. His brothers followed his every move, not taking their eyes off (y/n) once. Her tongue kissed her teeth as she studied them, weighing her options. She could easily shoot her way out, knowing that she was quicker with a gun than any other gangster she had crossed paths with, and yet she didn’t want to hurt either one of them. 

“Who?” Arthur’s eye twitched, he tried to reach for her, spurred on by anger, but Tommy’s hand stopped him from moving, keeping his emotionless composure. Her eyes kept focusing on Tommy’s features, wondering how much he knew, how much she could share without letting them in on her every secret. 

“You’re too smart for this, Mira. Is that even your real name?” A sigh left her, eyes fluttering close for a second to collect her thoughts. From the moment she had met Tommy, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t kill him, not the man whom she had always admired. 

“Whisky?” She turned from the three brothers to reach for a bottle, somewhat expecting them to shoot her. But they didn’t move, all they did was watch (y/n) pour them a glass, and one for herself. Slowly they reached for the glasses, but while John and Arthur stared at their glasses, Tommy kept studying (y/n). 

“Luca Changretta expects me to deliver your head by six pm, but I think we both know that I won’t do that.” Tommy kept quiet, seemingly pondering over her words as Arthur and John harshly put their glasses down. 

“Why would the Italians hire you?” Arthur’s question left Tommy chuckling, a sound that made (y/n) frown. He placed a cigarette between his lips, let his gun disappear, and took another step towards (y/n). With only the bar keeping them apart, she felt herself relaxing, he wouldn’t try to hurt her, but something seemed to hold him off. 

“I had my presumptions from the beginning, but you’re good, I give you that, sunflower. How did he find you?” She didn’t pay any attention to the confusion sticking to John and Arthur’s features. 

“Don’t call me that.” Her murmurs left Tommy chuckling, a sound that didn’t carry any humour, a sound that made the hairs on her arms rise. 

“You are in no position to make demands. You betrayed us, sunflower. But I guess that’s what you do, isn’t it?” Never had she felt this awful for betraying somebody, never had she felt the guilt eating her up the same way she felt it at that very moment. (Y/n) had to avert her gaze, trying to blink away the tears that blurred her vision, she desperately needed to get a grasp, this was unlike her. 

“I won’t apologise for trying to survive. If you know of me, you know that there is no way out for me, Thomas.” He almost flinched at the use of his name. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, staring at one another to ponder over their next move. 

“Leave us,” Tommy murmured the words towards his brothers. “And lock up, we’re closed for the day.” 

Arthur and John kept burning holes into her skin with fiery gazes, but (y/n) didn’t look at them once. All she did was watch Tommy as if he was a bomb about to go off, about to rip her to shreds, aching the same way her heart was now aching. The second his brothers left he Garrison, Tommy reached for his and her glass and the bottle to move towards a table. (Y/n) watched him with weary eyes, waiting for his next command. But all Tommy did was sit down, light himself a cigarette, and stare at her.

Slowly she walked towards him, gun long forgotten as if she didn’t even think of fighting the Devil himself. She drowned the shot of whisky in one go, not reacting to the biting taste she was all too used to by now. 

“You were a ghost, a story we told one another. None of us even thought of the possibility of you being a woman, hell, none of us thought that you were real. Nothing more than a story to warn us about who we could meet out there. But after that day Arthur brought you in, I asked around, I’m not as blind as my brothers, I don’t trust strangers, no matter how pretty they are. Luca Changretta may think that his men are loyal, but they all talk for the right price.” He blew his smoke out into the air as if he was preparing for her burning, watching her body end up in the flames he had alighted himself. 

“Why didn’t you kill me if you knew who I was?” She leaned towards him, it felt as if he held every needed answer in his hands, everything she had always wanted to know. Tommy Shelby was her mystery, the one to cling to, the one she would go down for, only if he’d ask her to. 

“That day I fucked you, you had your chance to kill me, but you didn’t do it. And from then on, I knew you were no threat to me, I knew I could use you to my advantage.” She grew tense as she kept staring at him. This was what she had been waiting for, a chance to work for Tommy Shelby himself. 

“I will do it, whatever it is.” His chuckles filled her with excitement, holding still as he leaned towards her just like he had that night he had fucked her on the table. She was eager to please him, eager to pull through with whatever he’d ask her to, (y/n) would gladly add a few more names to her kill list if it meant being close to Tommy Shelby.

“Of course you will. But I need to know I can trust you, sunflower.” 

“(Y/n) is my real name.” Not once had she shared her name willingly with others, knowing that giving away her personal information could mean her end. But for Tommy Shelby, she’d share it all, every little detail. 

“Marry me, (y/n), see it as an act of faith. And then you’ll help me kill Luca Changretta.” 

[call-sign-shark]

Hi Shark 💓 I saw your post with the three word sentences and I'd like to request 6. "Be gentle, please." with Tommy. If you're more comfortable with writing for a different character then you're obviously free to do so! 🥰

Hi Daisy! Here we go dear 🥰 Finger crossed, I hope you'll enjoy that Tommy x Reader blurb! Honestly, I really enjoyed writing it.

Words: 993

TW: Smut content but no actual pornographic descriptions, mentions of murder, ambiguous ending (the ending is up to you), reader is nicknamed Hera.

Fire spread under your skin as his strong and calloused hands ran down your naked back to grab your hips in a bruising grip. How did you end up here, laying on the giant fur carpet in front of a fire place with Birmingham’s most infamous gangster touching you? The question had been playing on repeat in your buzzing skull the moment he had laid his fingers on you. A feverish sigh escaped from your quivering lips when Tommy’s hips crashed against yours. The wet caress of his tongue left goosebumps in its trail each time you would feel it on the sensitive flesh of your bosom. It was like the dancing flames of the fireplace, whose hungry tongues of blaze licked the logs that were feeding them until all remained was ashes. You clenched your fist in his dark hair, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back at ocean of pleasure that was drowning you each time his hips moved. As you made love in his living room, the melody of your sighs and flesh snapping filling the room and swirling up to the ceiling, you still tried to gather all your remaining strength to hang on the reason behind your meeting.

“Hera…” He moaned against your breasts, the vibrations of his hoarse voice echoing in your whole ribcage and shattering your bones in a sensual earthquake. Your toes curled as his pace, slow and gentle at first, quickened. Lost in a maze of feelings and lust, your hand left his hair and joined the other one on his broad and muscular back.

“Deeper.” You hissed through your teeth as your nails dug in his skin and pierced his flesh. Your voice, eternally collected, was now shaken by a light tremor you hated to hear. You sounded begging. You sounded desperate. You sounded weak. And only God knew how you despised weakness. Well, not only God but also Luca Changretta, to be true. When the godfather of the American branch of the Sicilian mafia took you under his protective wing, he called you Hera — queen of gods, and furious dishonored wife of a monster. Besides him and a few capo, no one knew where you came from and why Changretta had a soft spot for you. Yet, the story behind your relationship was tragic.

He saw you one dreary summer night, crying outside of the church in your magnificent white dress stained with little crimson droplets. From what he had understand, you had caught your future husband cheating the day of your wedding and he was so enraged you found out about his secret affairs that he had beaten you until your legs collapsed and until your body was black and blue. When Luca Changretta cupped your face and laid a protective kiss on your forehead, he made you a promise: no other men would hurt you again, for he would make the most terrifying and beautiful monster out of you. Luca dived in your eyes and smiled, and as he did Y/N vanished in the aid of this new fierce entity that was now inhabiting you.They said Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and how right they were.

“Fuck —“ Tommy swore, at the edge of climax. All of his muscles tensed under the coiling and maddening pleasure that was consuming him — but Thomas Shelby was as stubborn as you were, and he hated to show any sign of weakness even more than you. That was why he choked his moans against your mouth and let his tongue force its way between your juicy lips. You scratched his back in response, small beads of blood darkening your nails. His pace was now frantic and brutal, turning your love making into more a battle than anything else. Sex was a fight you were both fiercely decided to win. But if Tommy had the rage of winning, you had the disgust of losing.

“Let it go, little boy…” You whispered against his mouth, waving your hips like a dancing succubus willing to milk him from his life. Your victory became evident as you felt Tommy’s legs shaking. He sunk his teeth in your lower lip and growled like an animal as he gave in — blown away by the fiery blaze of his little death, the gangster felt tears dawning at the corner of his turquoise eyes when he came. The burning sensation was so unbearable at some point he thought he was in hell. But was it really hell if he liked the way it burned?

You smirked, enjoying the end of the war you’ve just won.

Tommy and you were now sharing a cigarette, both naked and sitting on the comfortable rug while watching the dying flames that were flickering in the hearth. But despite the doubt that had started to plague your cold mind, you mentally repeated the mantra you lived by for years: You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind… And your goal was to murder Tommy Shelby.

Why?

Because you were the most terrifying and skilled hitman of America, and someone had paid you to kill him.

And you were heartless.

You had not always been like this though… But the young eighteen years old crying princessa Changretta had almost raised had met the same demise as her savior: she was no longer alive. All remained was the still smoking ashes of a maimed heart and an empty body only animated by pure anger.

Tommy had barely stubbed out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray nearby when you pressed the cold blade of your knife against the fragile flesh of his throat. Yet, he did not seem surprised. Nor afraid. Quite the contrary, Thomas Shelby was tired. Just… Tired. He looked at you, his sky blue eyes staring into the void that constituted yours, and parted his lips to speak.

“Be gentle, please.”

That was all he said.

Somehow, he did not mind to die if the last embrace given to him was soft — even if it came from Death herself. You could kill him, it did not matter anymore, as long as you were as no one else since Grace had been with him: gentle.

You pulled him in your arms, hugging his exhausted frame in a final clasp, and tightened your grip around the knife.

Fine, you thought, I’ll be gentle then.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Omg hi! i was wondering if i could request a tommy fic? i was thinking during the whole luca changretta war tommy finds (Reader) who is a harley quinn typa gal in the psych ward gets her out and asks to help him kill luca?

•Thank you for the request! Apologies it took so long to come out, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Altered storyline, mentions of smut

The hallways were narrow as he passed by each barred cell, ignoring the familiar faces of many of his enemies. With each step he was inching closer to her menacing yet playful laugh. He was desperate at this point and being a Shelby he’d never like to admit that.

He really didn’t want to do this, but what other choice did he have? Y/N L/N was known very well for her crimes, many she had gotten away with until she attempted to blow up Tommy’s fucking pub and threatened his family, also the time where you had managed to do seduce his men guarding the company and breaking into the vault stealing a tremendous amount of money.

“Mr. Shelby, crawling back already are we? To what do I owe the displeasure?” She snarled at the sight of his frigid, cold stare. 

Folding his hands and standing with a straight back, feet implanted solidly in his stance, he released a disgruntled breath.

“I need your help. You’re the only one who’s been able to out play me numerous times, and we have a common enemy we both want dead.” She simply giggled and rolled her eyes, not at all phased by his demeanor. Was he being serious right now?

“Regardless of who it is, why should I help you? After all you’re the reason I’m in this filthy, low ridden place. What could you possibly offer me that I can’t already get myself?”

“You’re freedom. No strings attached after Luca Changretta is dead.” The man’s name rolling off Tommy’s tongue boiled the blood in your veins. He was the man who had killed your mother and made you an orphan, depending on others for food, living on the streets growing up all by yourself at the ripe age of twelve. 

He noticed the sudden change in your facial features and how your hands clung to the metal bars, knuckles turning white in anger.

“So what do you say? Do we have a deal?” 

The breath of fresh air warmed your body, refreshing your sense of smell. Tommy had a tight grip around your bicep, untrusting that you held any type of loyalty to the arrangement.

Shoving you roughly into the car and locking the doors, he drove off filling you in on what the Changretta’s have been doing to his family, mentioning the death of his brother John.

Pulling into the driveway, knowing it had been a long, painful day, he thought it was best just to show you to your room and create a plan of takedown the following morning.

Your eyes widened in shock at the big expensive house, surprised to see he had a maid waiting on him, yet you couldn’t steer away from all of the fine china on the walls, the glistening silverware laying out on the clothed table.

“If I had known where you lived I would’ve ramsacked this play awhile ago, I mean look at this!” You picked up the ferrarce pink egg in your hand carelessly, magnifying it’s beauty and not being able to stop thinking how much money the antique could get you. Grasping the object out of your hand, Tommy forced you around back to the stairs where you heard pitter pattering footsteps rushing past you down the stairs.

Seeing the little boy so alight and full of energy brought a profound joyfulness to you. A person’s childhood is so precious, supposed to be the best time of life, never worrying about a thing, not understanding the hatefullness in the world. It made you sympathize a little.

“You have a child?” Tommy wasn’t going to entertain any conversation of his private life. He was uncomfortable enough having you here in this house with Charlie but what choice did he have?

“Don’t get any ideas, breakfast is at 8 am. This will be your room, windows have been barred, any sharp objects have been taken out, don’t bother trying anything.” The room had nothing but a singular king size bed in the center of the white painted room, a bathroom attached with a shower, toilet, and sink but no towels.

“I know you’re fucking crazy, I don’t need you trying to hang yourself or some shit. Frances will bring you one if needed but one of my men will be outside the bathroom to ensure you don’t try anything. Take it or leave it.” 

Begrudgingly you tossed your belongings onto the bed, Tommy pulling out a cigarette in the process, glossing the tube over his plump lip.

It was all settled then. You’d head out first thing in the morning.

When the following day arrived you awoke to Tommy busting through the door, causing you to jolt upwards reaching for your weapon that wasn’t there thanks to his stupid rules.

“Artillery Square. It’s 8:01, you’re late. Get dressed. I want you to see how they operate.” 

Ripping the blankets off the bed, Tommy tossed you a change of clothes, black pants with a black hoodie marching your darkened personality.

Huffing, you looked at him expectedly awaiting for some privacy to which he rolled his eyes as if he hadn’t seen women nude before.

Closing the door he waited outside for you.

The car drive consisted of etching out a plan. Tommy knew they were following behind him and informed you of where he had weapons set up on the different floors and railings outside. Why did he have to plan everything and be serious? Didn’t he like risk taking every once in awhile, so utterly boring.

“Stay close.” The men had taken a different turn probably in hopes of throwing Tommy off but that wouldn’t work.

Passing by civilians he motioned for them to go inside that danger was near. They wasted no time in auietly running up to their rooms in fear, fully knowing that whenever a Shelby was around, trouble always seemed to follow.

Turning around Tommy realized you weren’t behind him anymore. Huffing and scanning the area he found you sitting on the curb of the sidewalk next to a bakery petting a stray pup with a croissant in your hand, as if there weren’t italian men scattered throughout Birmingham looking to complete their vendetta.

In a powerful stride he walked over to you, gripping the small of your wrist angrily and dragging you along with him.

“Hey! Y’know what your problem is Tommy? You’re so uptight all the time, jesus relax every once in awhile.” Rounding the corner, he shifted and slammed you against the alley wall effortlessly, causing your creamed croissant to fall to the ground, pissing you off.

“Really! That croissant was the only good thing going in my life, it gets tiring constantly being spied on and not being trusted y’know.” His hand struck you across the cheek, causing your head to whip to the left from his harmful blow, smacking against the brick wall.

“Ow! What the fuck Shelby!” Your stomach bubbled with fury, arms flailing and hitting his rock hard chest trying to fight back against his strong hold. 

“Listen to me alright? This isn’t some fancy fucking get away. We had an agreement, so stay hidden before you blow our fucking cover or I will take you right back to the fucking coppers and have you readmitted, Got it, eh?” She giggled menacingly, rolling her eyes from the masculine, testosterone fueled facade, not at all intimidated by him. If anything a little turned on by his threats and the chokehold he had you in.

In a quick, swift movement you giggled before raising your knee and striking him directly in the ball causing the older Shelby to hunch over in pain.

“Lay a hand on me again and I will drown you in your fucking sleep. Got it?” You snickered sarcastically, smiling at the feeble position you put him in.

“Now, let’s get back to business and set aside the pleasure shall we?” 

The two of you scoped Artillery Square, the block being hing with sheets and laundry around every turn while innocent civilians were inside the homes they rightfully owned.

Enough people had died from these fuckers, children included and Tommy refused to have any more unnecessary blood shed. 

Hearing footsteps from behind, Tommy motioned for you to follow him in the building. The empty hallways eerily quiet as bystanders were crouched in their rooms hiding beneath tables, fleeing to corners and shielding their children.

All of Birmingham knew the Chagrettas were in town and what a black hand meant. The italian Mafia had been a profound problem back in the state of New York, innocent lived being taken just for being in the same vicinity as who they were after.

Quieting the worrisome families, you raised a finger to your lips with each passing room, ears and eyes at the ready to think fast.

At that moment a bullet richoeted through one of the windows, hitting a metal wall and flying up toward the ceiling shattering a light bulb connected to a ceiling fan.

On high alert, Tommy whipped you around toward the other side of the hallway, pushing you forth by the low of your back. Birmingham wasn’t a place you were completely familiar with but Tommy knew these streets and buildings like the back of his hand.

“Go! Go!” As windows shattered, you held your bat at the ready, looking to fight as Tommy instructed you where to go, but you had plans of your own.

Instead you turned around, walking back out toward the parking lot where the gunfire was coming from.

“Where the fuck are you going?!” You shrugged your shoulders, glancing back at him daringly while batting your eyelashes.

The need and want to see Luca’s face again after so long consumed you but Tommy was faster.

In an instant he thrashed your body down onto the floor, saving your head from a bullet that would’ve went right through you skull.

“That’s enough. Save your fucking anger for later. If he sees your face he will be a step ahead. So just fucking listen to me!” You groaned from the tumble, slamming your hand on the floor in frustration.

Days turned into weeks until you were face to face with the man.

Hiding in a room, you filed your nails carelessly listening in on the conversation, awaiting Tommy’s cue.

“You can sign the papers on your fucking knees.” The intimidating man pushed the papers off the table, the contracts scattering across the floor in a whimsy manner. When Tommy still didn’t move, still didn’t speak it angered Luca immensely, causing him to flip over the table in fury.

“Sign the fucking papers.” Tommy’s crystal blue eyes never left Luca’s in fact he found his little performance quite hysterical. He simply smirked, attempting to hold back his laughter. 

“All of your blood relatives are gone Mr. Changretta. The men behind you will work for whoever the highest bidder is and well how the turned tables have turned.”

“Is that so?” When he turned around to face what were once his men, they stepped back with the guns in their hands fully aware of the plan Tommy had implemented.

“A friend of mine once told me big fucks small. So I had to find someone bigger than you. Someone whom you crossed years ago and has been locked up ever since. You see I did some digging as well.”

Coming out from the shadows, bat ready at the hand. You didn’t like guns as much, bullets were too much of an easy kill, you wanted to see him suffer. Tommy winked your way causing Luca to spin around only to be met with the brunt force of the wooden object against his skull.

At that moment Tommy fleed from his kneeling position, pulling his gun out to finally end this yet you stopped him.

“Allow me to do the honors. Boys stand down, I’ve been waiting my whole life to kill this piece of shit and oh how I want to see him suffer the way I did.

Luca fumbled to get up, a few of his teeth now lying on the floor while blood trickled out from his mouth like a river flowed down a winding stream.

The man jumped at you, spitting blood on your face. Oh how you loved a challenge.

In one powerful swing, the bat banged at his knee, shattering the bone completely leaving him once again on the floor writhing in pain. 

In that moment a flashback of your childhood rushed to your head. Remembering the moment you eere cowering in the corner of the kitchen floor, scared and terrified of this man who had just killed your entire family, leaving you an orphan.

You began to beat him relentlessly with the bat, blood splattering on your face as his face became deformed from the brutal blows.

When you began to cry hysterically, Tommy slowly walked to your aid pulling you into his warm embrace carefully, rubbing your temple soothingly as you welt into his shoulder. The motion was unexpected to say the least.

“He’s dead now love. He’s dead.” Your fist scrunched in the fabric of his shirt, tears forming a puddle on him as you tried to relax. He nodded his head motioning for Pol and Michael to leave the room. To make light of the situation, Tommy decided a joke was necessary which was rare.

“Seeing as this wasn’t your vendetta alone, do you mind if I-“ His hand settled on his gun, and he waited for your agreement.

He emptied the chamber of his pistol onto Luca’s body before escorting you back to his home. 

Offering you a glass of whiskey, he took a seat beside the fire nodding toward the chair beside him and pouring a glass for you.

The fire crackled in the darkened room, a comforting sense of relief after the strenuous events of today.

“Y’know you and me make a pretty good team, don’t you think?” Tommy smiled softly, something he hadn’t done in awhile.

Quirking his eyebrow, he pulled out a ciagrette, passing one to you before lighting the tube of tobacco.

“I guess you can say that.” There was a moment of silence before you stood up from your seat, walking slowly over to Tommy and straddling his lap. Your plush lips just centimeters away from his as your fingers intertwined in the strands of his hair. Your ass grinding down on his lap.

“Now that I’m a free little bird now, I don’t know about you, but I’m in desperate need of some stress relief. What do yuh say Tommy boy?” His hands placed on your thighs, he lifted you up effortlessly taking you by surprise and carrying you into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

[justrainandcoffee]

Dream of me (Luca Changretta x fem!poc!oc)

Summary: When you are Luca Changretta, happiness isn't something you're used to. Business always comes first. But when happiness has the form of a black woman, even less. Luca deserves something better, his mother says. She hates the singer. But not him. In a world ruled by white vs black, Luca and Aveline are hiding in a hotel room, enjoying their true but forbidden love.

Warnings: Racism. Hurt/comfort. Typical violence. Slightly mentions of smut. || Unlike my fics in modern times, here they don't have a happy ending, although this fic somehow is happy.

Words: 900. || Valentine's day masterlist || Thanks for the help @evita-shelby

The word forbidden is not strong enough to describe the love that bonds Luca Changretta and Aveline Young.

It's not just forbidden, it's risky, it's dangerous for her and his reputation could be damaged forever.

Luca Changretta knows very well that people ready to kill women like her. Beautiful, for sure, but black skinned.

Luca sees her when he goes to the restaurant where she sings. New York is a big city and has a lot of places like that but he has chosen that one for a very specific reason.

His mother knows and it's not happy, she for over the rest of the family, thinks that Aveline is worthless. Because, of course, she was not made to be with a Changretta like Luca.

But Audrey does not know what his son thinks every time he's with her.

Aveline is now singing in his ear. It sounds like a lullaby to him. Aveline is black siren that captivates him with her voice. And her long legs.

His fingers caress her jawline.

"I'm a monster and you're a fragile doll," he plants kisses on her neck. Like a butterfly visiting flowers. "The most beautiful woman I ever met."

"I'm not a fragile doll, Mr. Changretta."

Luca humms against her neck. He loves when she calls him by his last name. His cursed last name.

"No, you're not, it's true. You're strong woman but still I'm a monster."

Aveline knows that. She still remembers that night when he appeared in her apartment covered by blood. She helped him to take a bath and stitched his wounds. Another mafia leader had paid the maximum price for his betrayal. Luca does not stand betrayal.

"That fucker…"

But Aveline shut him up with a kiss. And Luca accepted it. He always accepted her kisses but especially when he was upset. People didn't know how difficult was being like him. Normal people went to work but at the end of the day they found comfort with their family, pets or just alone. But people like Luca… mafia never rest. He didn't know when he was going to be betray or sold to the police. He needed to be alert all day.

And now that they're alone in that hotel room it's the same. Luca thinks that somewhere in the city there's an enemy waiting for him. Chasing his body and soul. Aveline feels how his body is tense once more. So she starts to sing again. Her mother used to sing that song when she and her brother were little kids. It talks about hope and a bright future. And love.

Luca closes his eyes. In a perfect world she's with him side by side, but that perfect world it doesn't exist. He never mentioned it in front of her but her mother made some comments about Aveline that made his blood boil. "Black women are nothing but…" Luca shakes his head trying to forget those words.

"Luca?"

"Mmh?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"About you, amore mio" Luca can see her smile and smiles too.

In a quick movement, he grabs her by the waist and lays her down on the mattress. "I always think about you, bella."

"You're such a poet, Mr. Changretta."

"You inspire me, Linnie."

The woman kisses him. Linnie is a nickname that Luca invented and none except him call her that way. Luca kisses her back. They are the singer and the gangster madly in love in a world that wasn't made for that love.

Opening her legs, she allows him to take her. Once and once again.

"Ti amo…" Luca whispers feeling her warmth around his masculinity.

"I love you, too."

Those hands, full of blood of innocent and guilty people, caresses her delicate skin. Somewhere the bells of a distant church announce that it's midnight. It's February 14 and like any other couple they're loving each other.

Audrey Changretta is a distant memory in Luca's mind while he holds Aveline next to him. He loves her mother but she's wrong. His woman is a perfect person, she's not worthless. Aveline Young is a fucking treasure. Her brown eyes are full of love and it's a miracle that someone can love him in such way.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mr. Changretta."

"Happy Valentine's day, Linnie."

She smiles and Luca closes his eyes. "Dream a little dream of me," Aveline says.

"As always, doll."

The woman watches him finally rest. He's not a good man, she knows that. She also knows what his family thinks of her but she also knows that Luca loves her. In such a deeply way that no one else but them could understand.

She caresses his hair. One day, maybe, they'll be allowed to be happy together.

[lucyswinter]

Request guidelines

Requests are : OPEN<3

Masterlist

Who/what I write for:

-Cillian Murphy/ characters: (Jackson Rippner, Tom Shelby, Neil Lewis, Jonathan Crane, Kitten Braden, Jim: 28 days later, Emmett: a quiet place part II, Raymond Leon, Robert Fischer, Tom Buckley)

-Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, JJ,

-The Bear: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Carmen Berzatto, Sugar Berzatto

-Saw: Lawrence Gordon, Adam Stanheight, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Amanda Young, Jill Tuck, Lynn Denlon (for ships: I’ll do chainshipping, coffinshipping, and shotgunshipping/lynnmanda!)

-American Horror Story (All seasons up to Cult with the addition of 1984. Only ships if they are canon (by season, I mean)! i.e: I won’t do Kit Walker (s2) x Madison Montgomery (s3) or anything! And for canon relationships, I will do any season besides NYC and Delicate as long as they are already together. For example, I would do Montana and Richard from 1984.)

-Nip/Tuck: Sean McNamara, Christian Troy, Matt McNamara, Julie McNamara, Liz Cruz, Eden Lord, Sophia Lopez, Kimber Henry

-DC villains (from the Nolan trilogy or Gotham tv show! I will specify from which one I mean. I’ll also write Batman but that’s the only “hero”/vigilante)

-Peaky blinders: Luca Changretta, Tom Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Finn Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Oswald Mosley

-Top Gun/ Top Gun: Maverick: any characters! (For ships, I only rlly know IceMav 😭 but I’m open to others! I’ll also do penny!reader)

-Bridgerton/ Queen Charolette: Daphne x Simon, George x Charolette, Anthony x Kate, Colin x Penelope (and all of these characters individually as well as Benedict, Violet, Eloise, and the Featherington sisters! *Edit for season 3*: Lord Debling, Lord Stirling, Lady Arnold, Lord Anderson, Francesca Bridgerton, Cressida Cowper)

-Community: Professor Ian Duncan, Jeff Winger, Abed Nadir, Britta Perry , Annie Edison, Troy Barnes

-Impractical Jokers: Joe Gatto, Sal Vulcano, James Murray, Brian Quinn

-Supernatural: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Destiel (will not do Wincest or Wincestiel)

-X-files: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, MSR

-BBC Sherlock (only JohnLock)

-Good omens (only Ineffable husbands)

-Hannibal (only Hannigram)

(Any other characters im open to! Just PM me to see if I know the fandom/media they’re in, or rec with a few options! I’ll ignore if I don’t know them <;3)

I will write: A bit ooc (depends on scenario 🤭), fluff, smut, small-ish age gap, AU’s, non romantic pairings, alternate endings, fem!/gn!/afab!reader, character x reader, character x character

I won’t write: Male!/nonbinary!/trans!reader (im a cis female so I will write gender neutral reader if requested, but most fics (unless specified) were written with a fem reader in mind :)), incest, underage reader (or character), dub/non-con

Thanks for reading! Feel free to PM requests if you aren’t comfortable sending them through the question button or want to work through the request :)

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Hi Claire! I didn't realize no one sent in a request for Luca so I'm here to rectify that for you. Could I pls have the following prompt? It seems perfect for him, doesn't it? 9. “Have you ever come so hard, you’ve cried? I could make that happen for you.”

Darling Lee, when I tell you that I love you all the more for requesting this prompt with Luca! He's the perfect man to deliver! Enjoy *kisses*

Words - 554

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

You never usually see him during the day, but that morning, your new love took you out for breakfast in Manhattan, followed by a stroll through Central Park. After that, you’ve no idea what else he’d planned, but you certainly hadn’t expected to find yourself within the pristine luxury of soft, white linen, Luca deciding his place was too far to get to so checking into the nearest hotel. He couldn’t wait for a moment longer to get you into bed. It mattered not that the bed wasn’t his own. 

When he got you there, naked beneath him, neither could you. 

That leads you up until now, your hands wandering over the lean definition of muscles pressing you into the bed, noting to yourself how beautiful his skin is. He shifts a little, mouth still upon yours as he lies at your side, kisses full of sugared embers continuing, his hand wandering down.  

You gasp when he reaches the petals of your sex, a little dewy with want for him already, his fingertips gliding through that silken wet before they settle to gently rub at your clit.  

Oh... oh wow. He knows. Some men, they miss it by a mile, or they touch it as if they’re attempting to rub a damned genie from a lamp. Not this man, as his fingers circle slowly, drinking back every little whimper you gift him with, smiling against your lips. 

“Does that feel good, doll?” 

Biting your lip, you nod rapidly. “Don’t you dare stop! It’s perfect!”  

He chuckles, that deep rasp making your tummy flutter. “Tell me somethin’, beautiful. Have you ever come so hard, you’ve cried? I could make that happen for you.” 

“I haven’t,” you gulp, heat roaring through you, “but I think you’re probably right.”  

He smiles, kisses moving to your neck. “Baby, I ain’t ever wrong.” 

Not many men have the prowess to back up such an assertion of confidence, but god, you know, you just know that he does. Those little circles rubbed tight over your bundle continue, more pressure added, your back arching against him.  

It feels too much, but not quite enough as your cunt streams against his touch, those talented fingers dipping inside you, massaging your walls, playing your body with all the precision a violinist uses to evoke the most beautiful sounds from the strings his bow teases.  

The sounds you make for Luca a simply celestial. 

He moves to kneel before you, knowing exactly what your body is calling out for as he replaces his fingers with his cock, arrowing your centre fluidly. You cry out, thighs trembling, his thumb moving to continue stroking pure heaven at your clit, those beautiful, luminous green eyes watching you carefully as you fall apart rapidly for him.  

You’ve never felt yourself so wet for a man before, the silken satin of your arousal dampening his cock as he glides back and forth, pleasure warming your veins, lighting you up like a shooting star streaking through the ink of a night’s sky. 

It takes scarcely more than a few more thrusts for you to reach crescendo, wailing as your eyes dampen, your lover leaning to nuzzle you with a somewhat smug chuckle.  

“Look at that,” he murmurs, lips pressing into the tear that glides down your cheek, “I struck water.”