#father!luca changretta

[evita-shelby]

Hey Juli

Gonna balance the universe with some Luca fics. Luca being a girl dad but with a the twist him being a recent widow and with the prompt "You are enough."Plz ❤️

Broken hearts all around

Aka what i felt when i was writing it.

Thanks 😊

It should be his wife who did this, but it falls on him to do it.

“Why wasn’t I enough for him,papa?” His daughter asked after getting her heart broken for the first time.

Had this happened mere months ago, she would’ve been the one here instead of him.

“You are enough, tesoro.” He comforts her as best he can and knows wishing his wife was still here won’t change things.

“I wish mamma was here.” She said as she cried into his shirt.

“So do I.”

[reiwanwan]

Beneath the streetlamp

While walking the streets of London, Y/n Shelby unexpectedly encounters a grief-stricken Luca Changretta. As Luca reveals the pain driving his revenge against the Shelbys, y/n offers him quiet compassion.

content includes: Mentions of angels, slight violence, Y/n is referred to as a woman, Y/n has a complex relationship with Luca.

Y/n walked the dimly lit streets of London, her footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones. The city had a way of feeling both alive and desolate at night, the flickering gas lamps casting long shadows that danced along the walls of the narrow alleyways. She had no particular destination in mind, simply wandering to clear her thoughts, to momentarily escape the constant tension that surrounded the Shelby family.

As she turned a corner, her heart skipped a beat. Standing under the faint glow of a streetlamp was Luca Changretta, his figure unmistakable even from a distance. He was smoking, the ember of his cigarette glowing red in the darkness. Y/n’s first instinct was to turn back, to avoid any confrontation, but she had barely taken a step when she heard his voice.

“Y/n,” Luca called out, his tone almost casual, as if they were old friends meeting by chance.

She froze, cursing her luck. There was no escape now. Reluctantly, she turned to face him, forcing a calm expression as she approached.

“Luca,” she greeted him, her voice steady. She kept her distance, though, her eyes never leaving his.

He smiled at her, a cold, almost predatory smile, but there was something behind it—something darker, more tormented. “Out for a stroll?” he asked, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Y/n nodded, keeping her answers short. “Yes, just needed some air.”

Luca exhaled the smoke slowly, watching her with those sharp eyes of his. “A dangerous time to be out alone, don’t you think?”

She didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she looked at him directly and asked, “Are you going to kill me now?”

Luca’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “No, not tonight.”

They stood there in a tense silence, the distant sounds of the city barely reaching them. Y/n waited, sensing that Luca had more to say. She knew that despite his casual demeanor, there was a storm brewing inside him.

He broke the silence first. “Do you know why I’m doing all this, Y/n? Why I came here, why I won’t stop until every Shelby is dead?”

Y/n said nothing, simply watching him. She had heard it all before—revenge, blood for blood. It was the code they all lived by, the cycle of violence that seemed never-ending.

Luca’s expression darkened, and for the first time, Y/n saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Arthur killed my father,” he said, his voice low and filled with anger. “He took him from me. And now I’m going to take everything from him.”

Y/n remained silent, though she felt a pang of sorrow for him. She understood his pain, his desire for vengeance. But she also knew that nothing good would come of it.

Luca’s composure suddenly shattered. His face twisted with emotion as he began to cry, his tears mingling with a bitter smile. He looked like a man unraveling, caught between rage and despair.

Y/n watched quietly, her heart heavy. This was not the Luca Changretta she had expected to see—a cold-blooded killer, yes, but this? This was a man broken by grief, consumed by the need to avenge his father.

Without thinking, Y/n reached out, her hand gently resting on Luca’s tear-streaked cheek. He flinched at her touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he suddenly grabbed her, burying his face against her stomach as he sobbed.

Y/n stood there, looking down at him, her hand still on his face. She didn’t say anything, didn’t try to comfort him with words. She knew that sometimes, words only made things worse.

As Luca cried, he looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes, a strange, almost pleading look on his face. “Are you an angel?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Are you an angel sent down by God to make me feel alive?”

Y/n smiled, but it was a sad, pitiful smile. She didn’t know what to say to that—how could she, when the man in front of her was so lost, so desperate for something, anything, to ease his pain?

“Pray,” she told him softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luca nodded, as if in a trance, and he began to pray, his words flowing in Italian. Y/n didn’t understand all of it, but she could hear the anguish in his voice, the way he begged for some kind of solace, some kind of peace.

When he finished, he looked at her with a mix of hope and despair. Y/n knew she should walk away, leave him to his grief and his madness. But something kept her there, rooted to the spot, her hand still holding his face.

“What do you want?” she asked, using the ability she didn’t fully understand herself.

Luca blinked, as if startled by the question. He seemed to think for a moment, his gaze dropping to her lips. “A kiss,” he said finally, his voice barely audible.

Y/n hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she should refuse, should walk away before this went any further. But then she saw the look in Luca’s eyes—how broken he was, how much he needed something, anything, to hold on to.

Still holding his face, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. It was a soft, almost chaste kiss, but it lingered, a moment of fleeting connection between two lost souls.

When she pulled back, Luca’s eyes were still closed, as if savoring the moment. Then, slowly, he opened them, and the cold, dangerous Luca Changretta was back.

“Do you still want to kill me?” Y/n asked, her voice quiet.

“Yes,” Luca replied without hesitation, though there was a softness in his tone that hadn’t been there before.

Y/n nodded, letting go of his face. “Then remember that,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness, before turning and walking away, leaving Luca alone with his demons.

[brummiereader]

No Son Of Mine (One Shot)

Summary: Justice had finally been served in the wake of John's death. But with all acts of violence comes consequences, one Tommy must face when his trusted friend Johnny dogs stumbles upon the now orphaned baby of the traitor and his wife he and Arthur had both murdered in cold blood all in the name or revenge. With no child of their own and Graces refusal to send him to the orphanage, Tommy begrudgingly takes the child into his care. Will Tommy ever show young Oliver the love of a father he deserves? Or will he continue to see him as nothing but a burden the heavens had cruelly punished him with?

Warnings: Language, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, angst, fluff

Authors note: A lovely reader of mine popped into my messages and kindly asked me if I could write this story for them. I'm sorry for the long delay hun, I can only blame my procrastinating brain for my tardiness. Anyway, I hope i did your prompt justice. Enjoy!

"Right, we done?" Tommy said raising a brow as he wiped the blood that had splattered onto to his crisp white evening shirt looking to his brother Arthur nodding his head in response, his chest heaving up and down as he brushed his bloody hands through his hair, both having been sidetracked from the nights festivities.

" Fucking scum" Arthur sniffed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave one last kick to the lifeless body at his feet. A cascade of events since John's death had led up to this very day, and Tommy and Arthur both simultaneously agreed without the need of words that justice had finally been served. Luca Changretta had been dead for almost a fortnight, the vendetta was over for all but the two surviving older brothers. That was until tonight when both Arthur and Tommy were unexpectedly called away to the news that Johnny dogs had found exactly who they'd been looking for. The traitor, the informer, the bastard that had given John's address to the Italians. A Peaky Blinder, one of their very own men.

" What about her?" Arthur spat a splutter of saliva laced with blood to the ground, the result of one lucky punch from the chancer that had tried his luck with the towering gangster. He'd put up a decent fight, one Arthur enjoyed watching before his patience grew thin and he pummeled his fist into him, each snap and break of his bloody face crumbling into something unrecognizable before being shot point-blank in the head. No one wanting or willing to hold him back. Not even Tommy. No forgiveness was given that dark night, only the sweet mercy met at the end of the barrel of a gun.

" Collateral" Tommy replied as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips not giving the nights events one ounce of remorse. This was for John after all.

" Collateral?" Arthur sniffed feeling a pang of guilt hit his stomach. Women and children were not to be harmed, an unspoken agreement before time in all dealings in war between men.

" Yes Arthur, fucking collateral alright?" Tommy snapped as he marched over to his brother whose eyes hadn't left those of the lifeless woman laid on the muddied ground below him " She ran into the line of fire brother. She all but killed herself" Tommy finished growing impatient with Arthur's weighing guilt. The last thing he needed was his number one soldier to be hit with a moral compass.

" Lads, we've got ourselves a wee problem" Johnny rushed over breathless as he loosened the neckerchief from the vein pumping angrily on the side of his neck. Fuck sake, Tommy thought to himself as he threw his cigarette to the ground. Things could never go smoothly, as smoothly as murder could go that was.

" What kinda problem?" Tommy replied as he and Arthur followed him into the small bedsit from the courtyard that two dead bodies had yet to be disposed of. The commotion resulting in the curiosity and twitching of the neighbours curtains, not one of them daring to or even contemplating in the slightest to inform any person of authority. Who would they go to? The police? The mere thought was laughable.

"Just a small one" Johnny replied taking two steps at a time up the rickety wooden stairs elaborating no further on what exactly had thrown a spanner into the works.

"A small problem Johnny eh? That's a big fucking problem!" Tommy ranted shaking his head as the three men entered the flat met with the sound of a newborn baby wailing in his woven bassinet, his bottom lip wobbling with each cry that furiously left his little lungs.

"Well he's small ain't he?" Johnny replied as he tilted his head looking down at the baby boy bundled in a white knitted blanket. You'd think with the the small army of children Johnny had fathered he'd be in his element. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Johnny was a natural with children, but a natural with children that had been weened, potty trained, and able enough to drive a four wheeled vehicle and shoe a horse. In basic terms, teenagers. But nonetheless wee babbies in his eyes. Newborns were all but a loud messy mystery to him.

" Jesus fucking Christ..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as his mind frantically tried to come up with a solution as to what in the hell he was going to do now.

" Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell!" Arthur bellowed as he kicked the chair beside him, the gravity of what they had just gone hitting him far more than any sin from the long list he had committed in the past. They had made a child an orphan, and Arthur's regret and new-found faith in the almighty was about to turn into a furious rage of self-inflicted guilt.

" Hey, hey!" Tommy said cupping Arthur's head in his hands in a vice grip, trying to snap him from the pit he was intent on falling in. " Johnny take the child and go start the car" Tommy said loosening his hands as Arthur's head cast down with shame at his sudden outburst. No reading of scriptures would ever be able to tame the raging fury from igniting within him at any given moment, no matter how hard he tried. " And Johnny, light a fire. Just as we did for John" Tommy finished reminding Arthur who this was for, who they were avenging.

" He won't quit!" Arthur panicked as he held the baby in the back seat of the car, fumbling with the hand stitched blanket as Tommy drove full speed down the country lane back to Arrow house were the night of meeting with dignitaries was surely over.

" He ain't a bloody chicken is he?" Johnny said as he reached over from the passengers seat taking the bundled up child into his arms. " Like this, look" Johnny added resting the baby's head on his shoulder as he silently prayed to every ancestor to take pity on him, promising them that the next child to be birthed with his last name he'd be the epitome of a modern father to.

" Shut him up Johnny!" Tommy shouted, his jaw clenched at the increased wailing in his ear, his nerves on edge by the constant reminder of the nights events he now had to deal with as he slammed his foot down on the pedal with Arrow house in sight.

"Grace!" Tommy's voice bellowed through the walls of the their house. Every guest had already left, the grand entrance cleared of tables of the most prestigious of all champagnes imported from France mere hours ago. A night of free food, free booze and music in return for them delving into their pockets. But with the host having been otherwise occupied for most of the evening it was a night wasted, one he would begrudgingly have to endure for a second time.

" Tommy..." Grace said as she hurried down the stairs pulling her ivory night gown around her as she watched Tommy pace back and forth with a cigarette hanging from his lips in the grand hallway.

" Here. You wanted a baby, now you have one" Tommy said as he took the child from Johnny's arms placing him into hers before storming off to his office and slamming the door shut, leaving his wife wide-eyed in confusion as Johnny and Arthur stood there sheepishly without a word.

" Frances, some warm cows milk and another blanket please. That will have to do until the morning" she said softly not wanting to startle the child anymore as she gently hushed his sobs away into small whimpers and sniffles. " One of you going to tell me what happened?"

It had been an hour, three whiskys, a packet of cigarettes and the rubbing of one's brow back and forth as a pounding headache settled onto his forehead since Tommy had shut himself away in his office, shutting himself away from the consequences of the night.

" Tommy?" Graces voice quietly announced as she entered the room with the newborn bundled in her arms soundly asleep as a flash of love at seeing his wife in her element softened her husband's face. Her motherly instincts that had been waiting to be freed finally being put to use after the longing for her own child.

" I've rung the orphanage" Tommy bluntly replied, the sweet moment that had captured him bitterly snatched away by no one else but himself as he stubbed out his cigarette. " They're coming first thing tomorrow to..."

" The orphanage. Tommy..." Grace interrupted him, her angered voice raising just above a whisper in response before being cut off herself.

" I won't hear anymore on it Grace. He can't stay here, that's the end of it" Tommy stood up throwing his lighter on a stack of paperwork as he rested his hands on the mahogany desk in front of him, looming over the list of numbers he had been calling as he huffed out a cloud of smoke.

" The end of it is it Thomas?" Grace scoffed as she walked forward, her eyes narrowing in on her husband with every step she took. " You made this child an orphan, he is your responsibility now. That's the end of it" she said coming to a stop in front of his desk as her husbands jaw tightened at her words.

" What about John's kids eh? They've been made orphans, hm? Grace? " He said as his wife turned her back on him as she headed for the door, Tommy's raised voice enough to startle a small whimper of cries from the baby boy now waking up from a deep slumber.

" When will it end Tommy?" Grace said as she came to a stop at the door. Tommy's relentless need for revenge against anyone who had dared to cross him leaving a string of orphans, elderly burying their own children and children burying their own parents. " A son Tommy, isn't that what you've wanted? What we've wanted?" she sighed, a deep wave of sorrow filling her heart as she looked down at the sweet child in her arms, a child she had yearned for during the unforgiving nights she had held onto her husband as tears streamed her face. Loss after loss breaking her already shattered heart.

" He'll be no son of mine"

Six years later...

" Elbows off Oliver" Grace reprimanded with a small smile of affection at the breakfast table to the child who had grown into a dimpled cheeked young boy as she rubbed her swollen stomach.

" Yes mummy" he replied kicking his legs back and forth as he wiped his cheeks from the egg soldiers he had just enjoyed as Tommy eyed him over the newspaper in his hand, reaching to caress his wife's stomach.

" He'll be here soon" Grace smiled to her husband lacing her fingers between his as she glanced over at her son that had no knowledge of who his birth parents were or the night that had brought him into their life, never wanting to or willing to send him into turmoil with the truth at such a young age "A baby brother for you Oliver " she winked to him as he grinned from ear to ear at the idea of having a sibling all whilst trying to stack the remaining pieces of toast into a strong hold that would keep the soldiers from the fiery dragon his imagination had conjured up. His attempts rendered futile when his tower of toast came crashing down onto the recently polished floors.

" Grace..." Tommy huffed folding his newspaper in half throwing it on the table in front of him, his patience easily tested with anything the small boy did that caused the slightest of inconvenience.

" Don't play with your food darling" she corrected him as Oliver's eyes darted to his father and the irritation clearly expressed in the creases of his furrowed brow. "Go clean up those buttery cheeks before I leave ok?" She smiled as the boy nodded in response while sliding off his seat only to stand on the scattered toast below him, causing a mountain of crumbs and further mess.

" You heard your mother" Tommy huffed lighting a cigarette as he looked down at the waste of food and the disorder that came with the child that had created it. " Oliver" Tommy pinched his brow as the little boy stood there doe eyed looking up at him nervously through his lashes.

" Go on" Grace smiled reassuring him as he ran to the door. " You're to harsh with him, he's scared of you" Grace said snapping her head to Tommy as he left the room.

" He doesn't listen" Tommy stated as he stood up taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched the boy through the crack of the door running up the stairs. " Stands there looking gormless whenever I tell him to do something, just like his traitor father"

" Tommy!" Grace said as she put the breakfast dishware down, crashing them onto the table in one loud clatter of knives, forks and spoons as she hurried to shut the door. " Don't ever let him hear you talk like that!"

" Well maybe he should know, eh Grace ?" Tommy said coldly stubbing his cigarette out, the pain from his brothers death never fully grieved, only ever making itself clear through the unfair coldness he showed to the child his wife had lovingly taken in all those years ago, raising him solely on her own over the watchful eye of him always standing from afar.

" You'd like that wouldn't you Tommy? Wouldn't have to keep up your facade anymore" Grace replied as she walked around the table. " Your his father, he knows no different. Just like this one" she said resting her hand on her stomach. " You're breaking his heart Tommy" she said taking his hand trying to reason with his stubbornness and the relentless friction he had undoubtedly created in the house the three of them shared. "I'm going to miss my train" she sighed as she closed her hand around his placing a tender kiss to his lips before turning to leave as Tommy followed behind her, watching from the door as she knelt down to Oliver in the entryway.

" Can't i come?" the young boy sobbed as she brushed his tears from his rosy cheeks. " Please?" he sniffed turning to see Tommy leaning against the door frame watching from afar, always from afar.

" I'm sorry darling, not this time" she replied a look of concern in her eyes about leaving him alone with Tommy, silently wishing this one time he would push his unenthusiastic demeanor aside and at least try if not for her then the little boy who thought the world of him. The same little boy with a determination that matched the very man who would brush off any attempts he made to impress him. Tommy's hate for the man that had fathered him clouding every parental instinct in his body. " I'll bring you something back" she winked giving him a hug before she fixed her hat and hesitantly turned to the door, leaving the young boy standing in the hallway sobbing as Tommy cruelly turned his back on his tears and shut the dinning room door behind him.

" Dad, Johnny, watch me!" Oliver shouted as he precariously placed one foot in front of the other climbing the large oak tree shading the evening sun on the grounds of Arrow house as Tommy and Johnny dogs watched on from the patio door. The young boy hell-bent on getting to the very top after seeing his uncle Arthur climb the very same tree two weeks earlier as he watched on in awe.

"That 'a boy!" Johnny shouted back pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he waved back. " Found 'em Tom" he turned to Tommy in a hushed voice as he leaned in. "They live up north in Yorkshire, factory workers in the local pressing center. Dirt poor, drunk ol' man that beats his wife within an inch of her life and too many mouths to feed" Johnny added as he watched Tommy's eyes following Oliver's every move.

" He's gonna fucking fall" Tommy huffed under his breath as he stood up straight, already on guard for the inevitable. He never fucking listens, why would he never listen to him?

" Tom, you listening ?" Johnny said as he pulled the address of Oliver's uncle from his pocket. " Grace will never forgive you Tom, he's her whole world" Johnny added as Tommy took the piece of crumpled paper from him, the decision to send Oliver to his family having been made after the unexpected news of Grace's pregnancy, a decision made solely by him without her knowledge. It's better she didn't know, better for him that was. And when the day did come, he'd tell her his family claimed him back. What grounds would she have to fight them? She'd be distracted with the birth of their son, she'd forget...wouldn't she?

"Dad look!" Oliver shouted trying to get his attention, determined to show him how far he could climb, how he was as fearless as any other Shelby before he misplaced his foot and came tumbling down to the ground.

"Oliver!" Tommy shouted throwing his cigarette into the grass as he and Johnny ran over in a panic. " What did I tell you eh?! What did I fucking tell you?!" Tommy shouted, all words of expected comfort and love absent from his voice as anger and frustration took over.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed looking up to his dad as Tommy removed his cap from his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at the bloody cut on his hand, every ounce of his being telling him to cradle the boy in his arms that knew nothing but him as his father.

" Ay, up you get" Johnny said helping him as he gave him a pat to his back. " Just a scratch Oliver ay? No broken bones. Nout to worry on. Ain't that right Tommy?" Johnny said in attempts to reassure the sobbing boy and Tommy who was about ready to snap again, his jaw tightened at the sight of Oliver's cheeks streamed with tears, muddy and red from the blow of the fall.

"Get inside" Tommy said placing his cap back on as he started marching back to the house, ignoring the pit of fear in his stomach at how things could have taken a turn for the worse under his watch of the boy Grace had entrusted him with. " Boys don't cry Oliver. Soldier up and wipe those tears" Tommy harshly stated as he left him and Johnny by themselves as he made his way to his office, shutting himself once again away from any more responsibility, anymore damage his presence caused.

" Come on lad" Johnny said putting his arm around him as Oliver sniffed back his tears feeling foolish that he had not only fallen but cried In front of his father, the man that never cried.

Sitting back in his leather chair Tommy rubbed the weight of the guilt that had settled on his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the night drew in, the soft hue from the crackling fire the only source of light in the blackened room he had locked himself in for the remainder of the evening. The impending birth of his child had unexpectedly thrown Tommy's thoughts into an uncomfortable disarray. Out of sight out of mind had been Tommy's only solution to the feelings that had started to arise in him that fatherhood had threatened, that fatherhood had been threatening him with for six years. Oliver was more like him than Tommy dared to admit. The child's strong will and refusal to listen one of his own cruel making. Why couldn't he love him like he already loved his unborn child? How long could he keep this up? Would he be that man, unashamedly favoring one child in front of the other? With too many questions dominating his thoughts and his wife's gentle voice absent to soothe the demons he had created for himself, Tommy did what he only knew how to do. Drink himself to the bottom of a whisky bottle. Heading up to the second floor of Arrow house with the finest bottle of Irish whisky in his hand he stopped at the top of the stairs, small whimpers and cries coming from the room at the end of the hallway capturing his attention. Oliver's room.

" Frances!" Tommy called out as he waited for the the housekeeper to deal with what he knew he couldn't. "Fuck sake" he huffed under his breath after waiting in place for someone to come before he found himself walking down the hallway to Oliver's room. There, with his knees curled up to his chest Tommy watched though the crack of the door as Oliver rubbed his hand back and forth over the bandage wrapped tightly around his injured wrist, his small frame illuminated by the cast of the gentle moonlight shining through his bedroom window. Running his hand down his face Tommy opened the door as Oliver quickly turned around pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Oliver?" Tommy questioned placing the bottle of whisky on the side cabinet as he walked over. " Why aren't you asleep?" Tommy said more bluntly than he intended to as he stood by the bed, feeling a wave of unease wash over him as he noted the small blanket Oliver was clutching onto. The very same blanket he was wrapped in the night they had found him. Grace had kept it, something he would have known if he had ever sat and read him a bedtime story, if he had ever woke in the night to hush the nightmares away from his worried mind, if he had ever even entered his room in all of the six years he had lived under his roof." Let me see" Tommy said in a gentler tone as he sat beside him on the bed. " Oliver let me see" he said when no response came from the whimpers the small child was trying to stifle. Boys don't cry. " Please?" Tommy sighed resting his hand on the child's back as his head fell into his other, the guilt of six year of taking the life of his parents settling on his shoulders pushing him further into his elbow digging into his leg as his head grew heavy with regret. Sniffling, Oliver turned around with his hand out as Tommy cradled it gently in his own, the difference in size causing Tommy's throat to go dry. The hate for his father's betrayal that of a grown mans doing, not this young boys that Tommy had cruelly burdened him with for six years " First of many battle wounds eh?" Tommy smiled to the young boy as Oliver's face stayed unchanged, unresponsive to Tommy trying to ease his worry. Had he done this? Made the child is his care so frightened of him he couldn't even a coax a smile from him?

" Soldiers don't cry" Oliver said pulling his hand away, his bottom lip turning down at the thought he wasn't as strong as his father, a soldier like him.

" They do Oliver" Tommy said as his brows knitted together at the thought that young Oliver had taken his words to heart. What else had Tommy said in the past six years, what else had he unknowingly taught him?

" You said boys..."

" And I shouldn't have " Tommy answered before he could finish as the boy wiped his tears from his youthful cheeks whilst a small silence filled the room, the strain from their relationship left empty with nothing further to say as Tommy desperately tried to search for the comforting words he knew Oliver needed to hear. " You want your mum don't you?" Tommy said swallowing harshly as he turned his head to the rays of moonlight cast on the wooden floor " I'm sorry Oliver, I'm..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as he clasped his hand around the child's shoulder. "... I'm not very good at this. You gotta help me out here. Will you help me?" he said as he gently squeezed his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth as the barriers Tommy had kept up started to fall around him as he desperately scrambled to gain back the wasted years he had been adored, loved unconditionally, a love he had never once reciprocated . " Get some rest" Tommy sighed patting Oliver's shoulder, his plea for help left unanswered as he stood up when a small hand grabbed hold of him.

" Tell me a story, please?" Oliver asked as he sat up in his bed looking up to the man he had always looked up to, always waiting for an ounce of affection.

" That what your mum does eh?" Tommy replied as he sat back down, adjusting the covers lovingly around the boy, if not a little overly enthusiastically as Oliver was now in a tight cocoon of covers and blankets with his arms securely fastened by his sides. " A story..." Tommy mused aloud, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as his brain mulled over all the potential tales that could see him sleeping in the guest room for an undefined amount of time if Grace ever found out, when the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile you would think had never seen the light of day let alone witnessed by anyone but himself. Arthur had made him swear in blood to never mention the day his gangly legs had gotten in his way causing him to fall from would could have been the very same tree Oliver had fell from earlier that day in attempts impress a girl three decades ago. " Arthur made me swear never to tell anyone, but you won't tell him I told you, right? Tommy said as the boy nodded his head, understanding the severity of pinky swears and the fate of death if you ever spilled.

" Cross my heart" he nodded with all the seriousness he could muster as his little face twisted into a stern expression, a worthy match to Tommy's own infamous pout. He was a Shelby after all, Tommy thought to himself as his heart suddenly filled with pride.

" That's my boy" Tommy said as he turned to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Oliver nestled into his side " My son eh? Tommy nudged him into his body as the boys eyes beamed up at his father's loving gaze. "My son..."

[peakbys]

TAILORED

Pairing(s): Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader, Luca Changretta x Wife!Reader Summary: Your little double life starts to unravel when your husband shows up to avenge his father. Request: Yes. Sorta.             → @alana000 requested the reader in a love triangle between Tommy and Luca, I ended up combining that with my idea for Tommy's poll result and my brain kind of just ran away with it. So, it may not be exactly what was requested but I hope it's enjoyable regardless. 😅 Warnings: Long post, cheating, tension, mentions of arranged marriages, poor Italian, friends to lovers to enemies (if you want to interpret it that way, ending is left as it is.) Eye contact (for the gif?) Note: This is hard to wrap up in a one-shot, so I'm sorry if the ending is less than ideal. Still, I've been working on this thing for weeks so I hope you all enjoy.

You had just wanted to ride horses. 

Of course, life was never so simple, yet it really didn’t need to be as complicated as it was currently. You had left America feeling uncertain, but excited. You wrote back home whenever you could, especially once you managed to make a bit of a name for yourself in horse racing. Really, you wanted to move onto training, yet you knew you could race those horses too. It was extra money, of course, but something you earned on your own. It wasn’t passed down from your family, your husband’s family. Though, in hindsight, you had to wonder if this really was the place you were going to end up all along. 

When you had made a bit of a reputation, it brought the attention of some people that operated in a way you were all too familiar with. Crime was in your family, and it was certainly in the one you married into. It didn’t take long to figure out what was being asked of you when you were asked to take the fall sometimes. Horses lost races, yet that didn’t mean that you couldn’t benefit. At least, that was how it had been explained to you back when your pride was too stubborn to accept that you’d participate in fixed races.

Yet, the opportunities got harder to turn down after a while. 

Your involvement with the Peaky Blinders was something you left out of your letters outside of vague gesturing toward ‘buyers’ and ‘bosses.’ 

Tommy Shelby was definitely a person you didn’t write back home about, as much as he was a very common face in your life over the last couple of years. In a strange way, Tommy had a demeanor that was overly familiar too. You had associated it with controlled movements, sharp grins and the chewing of a toothpick. With him, it was a neutral expression and a stare that felt like he was looking through you at points. Yet, both your husband and Tommy had the same commanding air that pulled your attention to them as soon as they stepped into a room. 

Outside of the wounded pride that came from losing a race you were certain you could win, that alone had almost been enough to call off working with him. You had more than enough of that back in America, and you didn’t want it here for however long you were planning on staying. 

Though, Tommy proved up to your expectations in that he was very hard to ignore. 

It had started off friendly enough–professional, despite the nature of what you were doing. More races won, a few lost with a wad of cash tossed into your lap with a vaguely smug look also tossed your way. It was profitable, so it was easy to stick with. Tommy brought horses to you, sometimes, too. Beautiful creatures. If there was something that easily bonded you to Tommy, it was the horses. The conversations got easier and more frequent. Longer, too. You could remember the mild surprise that crossed your expression when he asked about something more personal than the horses and the races. 

That was what had you both sitting outside your little ranch home that you were living out of currently, talking about your family, America. Your late brother, especially, given that he had passed in the war and Tommy revealed that he had fought as well. Your brother had joined in hopes that maybe it would be something noble–something that wasn’t crime and making his living from getting involved with the families in New York. Dying in a trench so far from the people who loved and knew him didn’t seem very noble in your mind, especially with the memory of how your mother wailed when she got the news. 

Yet, you got a sense of understanding from Tommy that you hadn’t expected to find. It opened the door to some…very troubling feelings. 

You had initially tried to dismiss them as the similarities with your husband causing you to feel homesick, but that really wasn’t the case and you knew early on that you were lying to yourself about that. Given that the majority of letters that you wrote back home were to your mother-in-law, outside of the odd one you got directly from your husband when it seemed like he had the time, it was hard to ignore the growing distance that had festered. It had lingered in the background before you left America, and it only grew once the physical distance was there. 

Still, you had been quick to state that you were a married woman when it felt like Tommy was catching on to your conflict. Didn’t change much, however–it was a weakening defense and you both knew that. 

It resulted in a moment of weakness that haunted you, one that had your loneliness and conflicting emotions taking control. When it came to money, you knew things could get rough. In the back of your mind, you knew there could be some volatile tempers. Yet, you figured some people might not take that out on the riders. 

A man cornering you in the stable one night proved you wrong about that, however. Your feet barely scraping against the stable floor, his hands wrapped around your throat while you tried to talk him down through what little space he gave your windpipe. Between the pressure on your neck and the tightness in your chest from your lungs begging for more air, Tommy’s arrival was lost on you until the man released his hands from around your neck. 

You could remember the way you crumpled onto the ground, coughing harshly and gasping in air. You had registered the threats uttered and the shine of Tommy’s pistol, yet it wasn’t until he helped pull you to your feet that reality had come back around to you. 

–

“Come on. Sit over here.” 

You were used to his usual calm, straightforward approach to most things, yet at the moment it seemed at least vaguely caring. It was hard to tell with Tommy, yet you didn’t have the energy to really dig too deeply into that. As much as your pride wanted you to hold your head up and shake off the guiding hand on your arm, you were focused on trying to still the racing of your heart and ease the tightness in your chest. 

“He really wasn’t here to talk,” you commented once you were sitting down in a chair, holding a hand to your neck still. “I should’ve known better.” 

“Don’t think it would’ve stopped him any,” Tommy replied, “Least I’m not down a good rider.” 

“I appreciate the concern,” you commented around a bitter huff, though the touch of amusement in his gaze settled that feeling easily enough. 

“I was comin’ by to give you this, anyway,” Tommy continued after pulling up a chair and passing over your cut of the winnings from the race. “Just in time, too.” 

You nodded lightly, carding lightly through the cash as you counted quickly in your head. Something you had always done since you started working for him–suspicious at first, more like a force of habit now. In the current moment, however, it was more like an excuse to not have to look at him while every swallow and movement of your head reminded you of the forming bruises that you’d have to cover for the next while. 

It had never been in you to enjoy being rescued, yet you certainly knew that could have been worse if he didn’t show up when he did. You could feel a ‘thank you’ forming on the tip of your tongue the more you thought on it, though the feeling of his fingers under your jaw had you stilling. He tilted your head up somewhat, the action pulling a small wince from you as he examined the marks on your neck. 

Your gaze remained locked on his face as he did so and even after he shifted his hand to let you lower your head again. The tight feeling in your gut cropped up again, a familiar sensation when you looked at Tommy these days. A fluttering feeling that was both familiar and unfamiliar in a sense. Something that you had talked yourself into feeling over time with your husband, yet with Tommy it had formed on its own. 

It scared a part of you, yet you found yourself unable to pull away. Especially when you felt his hand shift along the back of your neck, a few seconds of hesitation and a sinking feeling until his mouth pressed against your own. 

If it had been you who leaned in to kiss him or if he crossed that line himself, you didn’t know. Yet, you found yourself returning it all the same, a hand coming up to cup the side of his face. You lost track of reality for a few moments–it was just you and Tommy, his lips, his tongue. His hands on your shoulders, waist, lower back. The excitement about the kiss made your gut twist, heat in your face. There was relief in there, too. 

Finally, you felt like someone wanted you. You weren’t an obligation, or worse a charity case. Your first kiss hadn’t been forced, yet it felt more like it was something you should do. To prove a point, an intention. It wasn’t like this with your husband. 

That thought hit hard, sinking into you like a heavy stone just as you could feel both your own and Tommy’s hands venturing further. You were married–and kissing your boss in the stable of a racetrack while your husband was an ocean away. 

Shame burned hot in your gut as you pushed Tommy back, standing quickly to put some distance between the two of you. The look he shot you was calm, as if he expected this. Your marriage wasn’t a secret, he knew what he was doing too. 

“I…shouldn’t have done that,” you said after a few moments, tucking your earnings into a pocket. “Thank you for the help, Mr. Shelby. Goodnight.” 

–

Naturally, you didn’t talk to him much after. You wanted to, the thoughts tumbling around in your head, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to. The situation didn’t stop you from feeling relieved about his attention shifting away from the races after a while, however. You still raced, listened to the directions that would come in about certain horses and races. Things were normal, stable, and it was like you could just forget what happened. Things were calm. That was, until word got back to America that Sabini was having issues in London. It was a bit of a surprise to you that you weren’t asked to get involved. At the time, that is. 

It was something that was brought up in some of the letters–more of a warning at first, just keeping you informed in case you did need to make a move in the name of your husband’s family. You usually weren’t set to do those things, however, so you didn’t expect much outside of a possible trip to London to see what information you could get from the Italians there. 

That was, until your brother-in-law was killed. Things were a bit of a blur after that. 

Everything had escalated well beyond anything you had imagined and it seemed unavoidable how the two sides of your life were now overlapping. 

It was what had you pacing around the lavish room that you had been told to move to. It was very similar to the one that you had stayed in when you had joined your husband for a family wedding. The very event that put the idea of moving away from America for a couple years to begin with. 

A maid had been in and out over the last couple of hours, leaving you food and drink when you asked but otherwise gave you a polite distance. You appreciated that, despite the fact that no amount of food or tea could settle your nerves. 

You hadn’t unpacked, your little suitcase sitting by the door. It would look a little odd, you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

All you could do was wait, wondering how all of this would play out. The letter had been vague, just the address that he said he’d be staying at and that you should be moved there by the current date. It didn’t do anything to reassure you, obviously. A part of you just wanted to know. Another part of you just wanted to see him–as if seeing your husband would clear all the muck from your head and it would be easier to think. 

So, naturally, you were jumpy by the time you heard the door open. The maid always knocked, so it was clear who it was. 

Luca hadn’t changed much in the three years you had been away, dressed in his typical dark attire. Expensive, tailor-made and you knew how much he seemed to care about his appearance. That had initially struck you as pompous when you had first met him, yet you had quickly grown used to how connected his family was and it seemed to be more so about bragging about his family’s reputation. You knew it pleased him when you humored the expensive clothing and gifts–a little less common as the years passed, you had noted. 

At the moment, you couldn’t help but feel almost…underdressed. A number of things had changed, in more ways than one. You still didn’t know how you felt about the situation or what you even felt in the moment you saw him again. 

Regardless, you worked up a somewhat tight grin and approached him, Luca removing his hat to place on the desk nearby. 

The rings on his fingers were cold as he cupped your face, pulling you in to press a lingering kiss to your mouth. Your hands came up to rest on his wrists, finding an odd sense of comfort in the familiarity of it. Yet, it was lacking now. You knew that. The memories of Tommy that cropped up made that sharp edge of shame known in your gut, yet you still managed to keep the small grin on your face as Luca pulled back. 

“Carissima,” he said, hands still cradling your face as he ran his thumbs along your cheeks, “Non sei invecchiato di un giorno.” 

“Nemmeno tu,” you replied, the words heavy and cumbersome on your tongue. Luckily, Luca just grinned, dropping his hands to wag a light-hearted finger at you. 

“You promised me you’d still practice your Italian.” 

“I don’t get to use it often,” you replied, “Not a lot of Italian speakers around.” 

“Should’a listened to me about movin’ to London,” Luca commented, “Be with the family. Though…well, maybe it was good you didn’t.” 

“Right…” 

You let out a soft exhale through your nose, watching as he circled around the desk slowly as if he was looking for something. The atmosphere shifted as soon as the topic was brought up, your gaze following his movements as you tried to gather together something to say about it all. Killed his brother, his father, and you weren’t naive enough to believe that he was there to drag you back to America. Luca glanced back up at you, almost studying you for a moment. 

“Ma’s told me a few things she’s learned about you, too,” Luca stated, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of your neck as your heart jumped. 

Still, you held his gaze, expression impassive. It didn’t seem likely that she would know about what happened while you were staying overseas, yet it didn’t ease the feeling like you were looking down the barrel of a gun. 

“I told her quite a bit in my letters–you, too. In the ones you read, at least,” you replied, crossing your arms as he moved to lean against the front of the desk. 

“Left out some details,” Luca said, “How you’re racin’ horses in the tracks managed by the Peaky Blinders.” 

“It’s hard not to if you’re looking to fix races,” you said with a nod, feeling that tight not in your stomach loosen somewhat. “I didn’t make it a habit to dip my hand in that. When your horses get a reputation, there’s some interest. I might have been approached, but I can’t say I’ve had any personal interactions with them.” 

“No Tommy Shelby?”

“Not personally,” you lied, “I know of him.” 

He met your gaze without a reply for a few moments, arms crossed in a way that almost mirrored your own. A part of you wondered why you were protecting Tommy–of course, you didn’t want Luca to know of certain details, but clearly you didn’t swear any loyalty to him or his gang. Yet, you did so anyway. Luca eventually nodded lightly, pressing his lips together in thought for a moment before he stood up to approach you once again. 

“I was hopin’ you might have some information that might make this easier, but you’re just racin’ horses.” 

You could almost hear a touch of something to his tone, yet it didn’t seem he was willing to make that clear or say what he was thinking. It didn’t sit all that nice, but you figured if he was suspicious of you, you would’ve known. (You hoped.) Still, you gave him what you hoped was a convincing enough apologetic smile as you reached out to rest your hand on his cheek. 

“I know what you’re here to do. I wish I could give you more information than that,” you said, “As I said when I left, I didn’t want any involvement in that business and it’s been kept that way. If I had known…” 

“I wouldn’t want you catchin’ a bullet anyway,” Luca replied, “Though, you remember anythin’ or might be leavin’ anythin’ out…” 

“I’ll tell you,” you said with a small grin, “I wouldn’t want you catching a bullet.” 

“They can try,” he stated before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “Quicker this is done, quicker we can get back home.” 

You hummed in response, not quite agreement. As much as you were uncertain about the outcome of all of this, you had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be dealt with so quickly. 

*****

As much as you knew you shouldn’t be out by yourself, especially with the fact that this vendetta business could escalate at any moment, you didn’t think too much of it. 

There was an issue with one of your horses back where you were staying, and you knew suddenly disappearing would look odd to anybody who was paying attention. You were on edge and alert, yet you figured it would be best to look as if things were business as usual. Family was visiting, you were staying in a hotel. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but notice the quietness of the home. If there was an issue, you figured there would be a few different people running around. You frowned as you pulled up to the property, noticing that the stable was empty. You clenched your hands around the steering wheel of the car, ready to pull out at a moments notice. Though, the familiar figure standing outside the home, near the very chairs you had sat in when you chatted over the years. 

You debated leaving, but thought better of it. While it seemed unlikely that he didn’t know the people he was up against, you didn’t want to appear too suspicious if he hadn’t pieced together your involvement. 

Regardless, your approach was guarded, eyeing Tommy with a questioning gaze as he moved to step down from the porch. 

“Long time since I’ve seen you last,” you greeted, “...It’s very quiet out here for the emergency I was told to come see.” 

“Right…” Tommy replied, his expression unreadable as he approached you. “I had to get your attention somehow. Someone here said you are staying elsewhere for a few days.” 

“Family’s in the country for a while,” you replied casually enough, “I didn’t want to drive back and forth.” 

“Family. Well, I guess you really should see this, then,” Tommy stated, finally pulling a hand out of one of his coat pockets. 

He extended what looked like a photo, folded at a particular edge. You paused for a moment, looking into his impassive stare before you reached out to take it. 

Unfolding it completely, you were greeted with a wedding photo filled with familiar faces. The family wedding from a couple years ago, a seemingly routine celebration for the most part at the time. For the Changrettas, at least. Of course, standing just along the folded crease was you standing next to Luca, a faint smile on your face with your arm interlocked with his own. You had only seen the photo once when you had returned to New York after the wedding, yet it really turned out to be a terrible reminder that you weren’t as well hidden as you thought sometimes. 

“I did tell you I was married,” you stated, finally glancing up to meet Tommy’s gaze, “Though, with what your family’s done, I guess this really changes quite a few contexts.” 

“My family…” he repeated, you catching a glimpse in his expression that you never really saw. It was sharp, angry. It had you propping a foot back in case you needed to step away from him as he stepped a little closer to you. “Your family…killed me wife and my brother.” 

“Yes. You killed my husband’s father and brother. Spared his mother, which was a mistake. If you’re here to kill me to think you’ll get a leg up in this, I wouldn’t. Luca’s old fashioned–wants this done by tradition. As I’m sure you know. Yet, you kill me, I can’t say he’ll not just put a bullet in your head on principle. Considering you had to lure me out here, you have no idea where he is, right?” 

He didn’t say anything, lingering close as you looked up at him. As much as you knew he could kill you where you stood–there was enough spilled blood on his side to warrant it. Yet, there was that part of you that was fond of him. Felt something–might not have been deep or fully developed. It might never be. Yet, you knew you had a bit of a leverage here. You knew how to survive–keep your head down, do things for the sake of connecting your family, and taking advantage of opportunities when they presented themselves. 

“I like you, and I didn’t come to this country with the intention of getting wrapped up in a vendetta between you and my husband’s family,” you continued, “So, I’ll say this. I’m not here to be your enemy, yet I will do whatever I need to in order to get out of this alive. Luca, on the other hand, knows how to hate and will not stop until one of you is dead.” 

“I don’t need a lecture on the vendetta,” Tommy stated, “If you have no involvement, you’re a citizen in my eyes. I would be very careful about crossing that line.” 

“I’d be careful about crossing Luca Changretta,” you replied, “As it stands, I don’t know enough about you to give him anything of value and I have no obligation to tell you anything more about him. Give me a chance to get out of this alive, and I may change my stance on the latter.” 

“You’d sell out your own husband, eh?” Tommy asked, tilting his head somewhat as you continued to meet his gaze. 

“Arranged marriages can be tricky.” 

“I can’t make any promises, Mrs. Changretta.” 

“Then I guess we’ll see how this all plays out, Mr. Shelby.” 

[mxpseudonym]

Apple Cherry Blossom

Pairing: Luca x Blossom OC

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

Length: 1166 words

Warnings: None

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

..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? Why?”

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

“Worry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?!”

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

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

[novashelby]

And the Chocolates for the Girl~Luca Changretta Meets Evie

Summary: When Evie is short a few pence, a certain someone helps pay for her chocolates.

Word Count: 608

Please enjoy, comment, and reblog! I love you all.

At just nine years old, she knew what she wanted. To Evie, the end goal was to live in a land that was purely sweets, yummy foods, and fluffy friends. However, in gray and grim Birmingham, those such things did not exist and poor Evie had to settle for the second best thing; shops that sold sweets. After school, she’d run to her daddy, little Mary Janes stomping puddles. To her Aunt’s dismay, little specks of mud would dirty the ends of her school skirts. In the highest of voices, she’d cry, “daddy!”

And there, the meanest man in Birmingham became soft, kneeling down and meeting her in a hug that would almost always knock the breath from his lungs. Kisses would always be shared on the cheeks. Sometimes a few, but mostly a dozen. “How was your day?” he’d always ask. 

And she’d always tell him, “lunch was good.”

“Fish sticks today!?”

“Mince pie.” Her chubby hand would always rub her tummy and he’d laughed, pinching the side. 

“Get yourself a sweet, eh?” A little urge of some independence, Tommy would give her two pence and send her off just a little bit down the street for some chocolates. The only time she was ever happy to break free from his hug. She shoved them into the pocket of her woolen coat and ran for it, thinking if she wanted the caramel ones or just the plain.

She always settled for the plain, not fond of the sticky caramel on her teeth. In the store, she picked up eight neatly wrapped chocolates and put them on the counter. Such a short girl, only half her head was visible. She shoved her hand into her pocket with a smile, but frowned as there was not a pence in sight…well, feel. The clerk kindly waited, with a smile. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, checking both pockets.

“Tis alright, love,” he said.

In defeat, she said, “no chocolate today, I think I may have lost me money on the way-”

“Ah, pay me back tomorrow, love,” he said, knowing she’d be back the next day. But she wouldn’t like to explain to her father why she needed four pence instead of two.

She shook her head. “It’s alright, Mr. Kerry.” But before she could leave an arm reached over her shoulder and placed down two pence. She studied the arm; neatly pressed suit, black. The buttons were gold and on his hand, a small tattoo. Her father had tattoos, but none as visible as that.

“Two pence?” the man confirmed. “Alright, two pence for the girl’s chocolates.”

Evie listened to the voice. It sounded nothing like her father’s. Definitely didn’t sound like a Brummie, but something familiar. Deeply familiar from home, but not quite home, home. It wasn’t a Boston dialect, but something more south. Evie turned on her heels to thank the man, but was stunned by his features. They shared a long glance. Just as much as she studied him, he studied her. Something in his eyes was longing and curious…. This girl. Her eyes, her nose, and the curl of her hair. “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered, breaking the silence.

“What is your name?” he asked, removing the toothpick from his mouth.

Swallowing, she nervously twitched as she remembered her daddy telling her to never talk to strangers. “Evelyn.”

He knew the girl and would surely make it a point to see her once again. He smiled. “Run off, hm?”

“But you never told me yours-”

“Mr. Changretta.”

“Italian!?” Her eyes widened like the moon.

“Italian like you, yes,” he said. “I can see it in your face.”

[zablife]

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

Luca Changretta x OC (Aurora Sabini Changretta)

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

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

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

☀️🌙✨MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Aurora asked.

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

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

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

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

Aurora began to laugh bitterly.

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

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

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

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

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@everythingelseisextra

@solomons-finest-rum

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@margaret-morriss-secrethideout

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@dandelionprints

@look-at-the-soul

@runnning-outof-time

@cillmequick

@moral-terpitude

@dreamlandcreations

@watercolorskyy

@kmhappybunny240

@babaohhhriley

@padfootdaredmetoo

@rangerelik

@the-fangirl-diaries

@mrs-bellingham

@dearshelby

@bdudette

@brummiereader

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@justlulu

[nymphastoriasblog]

AGING WITH MODERN!LUCA CHANGRETTA

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

warnings: luca changretta

pairing: modern!luca changretta x afab!reader

requested by: none

nymphastoria’s masterlist

buy the chaotic author a coffee ☕️

gif by: @darkcrystals

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

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

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

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

and very understanding too.

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

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

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

and your smile would make everything worth it for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

all luca wished was granted.

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

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

[runnning-outof-time]

K’s Reading List — JANUARY

Hey there! Thanks for stumbling upon this reading list! I figured that as a way to support the lovely writers within this fandom that I’d compile a reading list of all of the stories I read over each month.

January was a wonderful month filled with incredible stories. Below is the list of stories that I read. I hope you will find some that you like as well!

As always, please make sure you heed to the warnings on each fic!!

💜 — denotes a story written for my 4K celebration

@garrison-girl-08

F*ck Buddies - Tommy Shelby x Reader (ongoing mini-series) — some parts contain 🔞 NSFW themes!

A Moment of Happiness - Tommy Shelby x Reader (mini-series)

Blind Date - Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader (on-going series) — some parts contain 🔞 NSFW themes!

Paranoia - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@apricotg0rl

Dangerously yours - Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb

@cillmequick

Ignoble Sins - Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb

The Lockdown Sessions: Oppenheimer Edition - Cillian Murphy x Reader (on-going series) — all parts contain 🔞 NSFW themes!

Dangerous Liaisons - Tommy Shelby x Reader x Alfie Solomons — contains VERY 🔞 NSFW themes!

@darklydeliciousdesires

Devastating - Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

First Bloom - Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

John Shelby blurb

@call-sign-shark

Of Bending and Breaking - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@raincoffeeandfandoms

The Lonely Rose - Alfie Solomons x OC (Fairytale AU)

Anon - Alfie Solomons x OC blurb

@zablife

All Mine - Tommy Shelby x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

Ada’s Tour of the Library - Ada Shelby & Reader — dark fic use caution!

@blueeyesandaflatcap

Inferno - Tommy Shelby x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

@noforkingclue

Misunderstandings - Carmen Berzatto x Reader — from The Bear

@mayfieldss

Point Blank - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Girl Dinner - Carmen Berzatto x Reader — from The Bear

@hereforhalstead

Pretty Girl - Jay Halstead x Reader — from Chicago PD

Interrogation - Jay Halstead x Reader — from Chicago PD

@sublimecatgalaxy

Tommy Shelby Blurb

@heavencanbeaprisontoo

Luca Changretta Headcannons

@dearshelby

Dues ex machina - Arthur Shelby x Reader

@peakyscillian

Back On Watery Lane - Tommy Shelby x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

@emotionalcadaver

Broken Pieces - Henry Wilson x OC — from Dunkirk

@toms-cherry-trees

Don’t Hold My Hand (I’ll Break Your Heart) - Tommy Shelby x OC (on-going series)

@calummss

John Shelby blurb

@disasterofastory

Haunt Me - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@cljordan-imperium

Tommy & Charlie blurb — 💜

@halsteadlover

Our Little Family - Jay Halstead x Reader — from Chicago PD

@padfootdaredmetoo

Fathers - Tommy Shelby & Finn Shelby

Sacrifice & Survive - Tommy Shelby x Reader

@saintmuses

“when she laughs, the heavens hum a stun gun lullaby” - Tommy Shelby x Reader — contains 🔞 NSFW themes!

“your breath in my face, your body close to me” - William Killick x Reader — from The Edge of Love

@red-riding-wood

Lost in the Rhythm - Tommy Shelby x Reader — 💜

@writeroutoftime

Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb

@peakyscillian

Lazy Mornings - Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader blurb — contains slight 🔞 NSFW themes!

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy begins to worry over the intentions of a member of the family, and receives some sorrowful news.

Word Count: 6,376

Notes: Warnings for depictions of jealousy, minor sexual content, violence, blood, and references to minor character death, depression, and suicide.

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Chapter 13: Traitor

“He was never the brightest. Or the most competent. But…he was such a good boy,” Audrey Changretta’s fingers clutched at her handkerchief. Just from looking at her, one would not have been able to tell that she had been crying just moments ago. Her eyes were dry, face as hard and as immovable as stone.

Luca rested a hand on his mother’s knee. “I know, Ma. I know. He was.”

He thought of his cousin, running rampant with them down the streets. Playing on the floor in his father’s living room when they were little. Of his wedding day, and how he’d smiled so nervously at Luca while he adjusted Alessio’s suit jacket for him. 

All gone.

They would not even be able to have a proper burial for him. Nor his wife or the two men who’d been guarding them. No open casket would be possible considering that the fucking heads of the deceased had been misplaced. 

His fingers tightened around the toothpick held between them. Fucking Shelby.

“It was her,” his mother said, lips thinning into a straight red slash across her mouth. “That red bitch. Shelby’s little whore. I know it in my bones.”

Luca shook his head. “It’s more likely that it was those savages from the mountains that Shelby has hired to do his dirty work for him.”

His mother shot him a glare. “You aren’t listening to me about her, Luca.”

He took a deep breath, reminding himself to be patient with her. Already she’d had to mourn a husband and a son. And now a nephew. How much more pain and loss would their family be forced to endure before it was enough?  

Deep down, he knew: as much as it took to put Thomas Shelby in the fucking ground.

“Winters is small. I doubt that she has the physical ability to kill and decapitate four fully grown people like that. Besides,” he added when his mother pursed her lips, “she never leaves Shelby’s side.”

“Your refusal to consider her a serious threat will be your downfall, Luca,” his mother warned in a tone of voice that reminded him eerily of being scolded in his childhood.

Luca chuckled to hide his annoyance. “I just find it hard to believe that one little girl could cause so many problems,” he put the toothpick between his teeth. “And if she does, we’ll mow her down like all the rest. I am being meticulous, Mother. You don’t need to worry.” Standing, he shoved his hands into his pockets while he approached the window. “You yourself told me that decapitation was never really part of Winters’s repertoire anyway.”

“She could be changing things up on purpose. As a way to trick you into not considering her a legitimate threat. She’s cunning, that one. Like a fox.”

Luca just hummed to let her know he’d heard her, peering out the window. It was raining again.

“Well, whoever it was, it’ll be taken care of. I promise. Alessio will not go unavenged.”

The clock on the mantle chimed, and he sighed.

“I have to go speak with Matteo,” returning to his mother’s side, he bent to kiss her on the cheek. But before departing from the room, he hesitated.

“There’s someone else. A secretary working for Shelby. Lizzie Stark. I remember Angel mentioning her in his letters. I was wondering if you know of anything that would be useful there. A grievance over Angel’s death that we could use, perhaps…” 

His mother’s face had gone dark. “No,” she said sharply with a bitter scoff. “No, you won’t be getting anything from that harlot. She’s loyal to the Shelbys. Always has been.”

Luca frowned. His impression from Angel’s letters had been that he and the Stark woman had been deeply in love. It had surprised him that she was still working for Shelby at all, after what he and his brothers had done to Angel. He’d hoped that she perhaps was looking for her own chance to take revenge on them. Or maybe was simply trapped into employment for Shelby due to economic reasons. That she could be truly loyal in her heart to him was…disappointing. 

The idea that his brother’s love for her may have been unrequited filled him with both sorrow and rage. As if she could do better than Angel Changretta. Had she misled him on purpose? Lured him into a relationship with her to give the Shelbys an excuse to come after him?

His teeth grinded against the toothpick with his thoughts. For a moment, he considered whether or not it would be worth it to pay the Stark woman a little visit. Probably not, in the larger scheme of things. At least not right now. But maybe after…once all the Shelbys were gone and their domain belonged to him…he and Miss. Stark could have a little chat about the way she’d behaved regarding his little brother. 

“Pity,” he said with a shrug. “But…there are still others in this city with hate in their hearts for the Shelbys that we can use.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“Well,” Lucy said, waiting until Mrs. Ross had left the office before speaking, “that may have just been the most obvious set-up for an ambush that I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Tommy made a sound of agreement, index and thumb rubbing together as he watched the door that Mrs. Ross had disappeared through, frowning. “Unless it’s intended to be that obvious.”

She leaned back, the leather in the chair creaking beneath her. “Why would Luca do that? If we all think it’s a set-up for Arthur, everyone will be near Mrs. Ross’s. Unless he were going to try to get the women during that time…”

“Or Michael.”

“Michael has guards.”

Tommy shrugged. “I think that you’ve proved quite soundly that guards can only do so much, love.”

“Mm,” she stifled a small smile. “Fair.” Her head cocked as she watched him, still staring at the door, mind working a mile a minute behind those pretty blue eyes. “What do you want to do?”

He finally turned his gaze to her. “I say we take the bait. See what Luca has in store for us,” he raised an eyebrow. “You think that you would be up for shooting some more people?”

She failed to stifle her smile, rising up out of her seat and stepping around the desk to him, setting her cigarette down in the ashtray. Tommy chuckled when she pushed him back lightly so that she could settle herself on his lap. 

“What do you think?” she asked with a cheeky grin, curling her arms around his shoulders. Tommy’s laugh rumbled in his chest, face tiling up to meet her kiss. His strong hands smoothed up her back, rubbing along her shoulder blades.

The door to the office opened suddenly, without even a courtesy knock in warning before it was wrenched harshly ajar. They both jerked apart hastily. While their relationship was no longer a secret as it had been during his marriage to Grace and the first couple of years spent together, they still preferred their privacy when it came to more intimate moments.

But it was just Lizzie, a mountain of papers clutched in her arms. Grateful that it wasn’t a client or someone else less familiar with their relationship, Lucy just shifted herself so that she was sitting across Tommy’s lap with her arm around his shoulders, his hand on her waist. Lizzie took one look at them seated behind his desk together, and scowled. 

“There’s a call for you, Tommy. And these,” she dumped the papers onto his desk unceremoniously, “all need to be signed.”  

Lucy raised an eyebrow at the chillness in Lizzie’s voice, frowning a little to herself. Apparently today was a cold day, as far as Lizzie’s feelings towards her went.

Her heart sank a little at that. And here she was hoping that perhaps they’d finally gotten past moments like these.

It made things so confusing, sometimes. Not to mention almost impossible to properly discern how Lizzie really felt about her. Did she genuinely want to be friends, or was she just putting up with her because she had to if she wanted to stay close to Tommy? Did she really hate her, or was it just bitterness and jealousy getting the better of her in the moment? 

Lucy had never been able to entirely shake the feeling that, if she had it her way, Lizzie would have happily erased her from all existence if given the chance. 

She felt bad for her, really she did. And she had tried to be more mindful of Lizzie’s feelings over the years, making an effort not to flaunt things between her and Tommy too much in front of her. 

But she had really thought, given Lizzie’s behavior and attitude shift towards her over the past year, that maybe she had finally gotten over Tommy. That they could be real friends. That she wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells regarding what she did or said around her for fear that she would unintentionally cause Lizzie to turn sour on her again.     

Apparently not. 

“Right,” Tommy said, picking up his pen and pulling the first paper towards him. “Transfer the call to the phone in here.”

Lizzie nodded, mouth set in a firm line, narrowed eyes fixed hard on them. Lucy shifted uncomfortably, wiggling out of Tommy’s grasp to stand up and move a few paces away from him. She caught him shooting her a puzzled look from the corner of her eye. 

“And call around to the boys, tell them I want to see them all in Charlie’s yard tomorrow morning.”

“Anything else?”

Lucy’s brows flew up at Lizzie’s tone. Even in her worst moods, it was rare for her to talk to him like that. Tommy blinked behind his glasses, looking more taken aback than anything else.

“No. That’s all.”

Lizzie shot Lucy a look that could have curdled milk, spun on her heel, and stomped from the room. 

“What the fuck is her problem?” Tommy asked soon as the door had closed behind her, his expression genuinely baffled. Lucy sighed, fingers finding the familiar pattern of her rings to fumble with. 

“We shouldn’t have taken her to the canal,” she bemoaned. Tommy’s brows pinched. 

“Why not?”

She sighed. For someone so smart, he could be quite daft when it came to things like this. “It must’ve, I don’t know, gotten her hopes up that maybe something was finally going to happen between you two or something.”

“From that?” he sounded incredulous.

“You were being very nice to her.”

“So? That doesn’t mean that I’m in fucking love with her. Besides, you were there too, so how could she think…” 

She shrugged helplessly, and he leaned back in his chair with a long suffering sigh.

“Fucking hell.”

“Who knows what really goes on inside Lizzie’s head.” 

He must have heard something in her voice, because his eyes snapped over to her.

“Hey,” he leaned forward, looping his arm around her hips and pulling her closer, “don’t let her bother you. It’s her problem if she misinterpreted things.”

“I always feel bad for her…” she said softly, even as she rested her hands on him.

“You shouldn’t. It’s not your fault.”

She bit her lip. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if that was entirely true or not.

But before she could say anything more on the subject, the phone on the desk started to ring.

“I’ll get it,” she said, “you work on getting all those signed.”

Tommy loosened his grip on her enough that she could reach over to pluck the phone from its cradle, but she could still sense him watching her carefully, probably sensing the confliction inside her that Lizzie’s behavior had triggered. 

“Thomas Shelby’s office,” she said into the phone professionally. 

“Lucy? It’s May.”

“May! Hi!”

Tommy’s head quirked up with interest at the name. 

“How are you?” Lucy asked, all thought or worry about Lizzie momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, alright. Busy, you know. It’s always hard work when getting familiar with a new horse.”

“Of course. How is she doing?”

“Actually, that’s what I was calling you about. I have a few things that need Tommy’s signature, so I was thinking that perhaps I could pop over to Small Heath sometime and give you both a full report.” 

Excitement bloomed in her chest at the thought of getting to see her friend again. “We’d both love to see you. When were you thinking of coming?”

“I have a few dates in mind. But really whenever works best for you and Tommy. I know how busy you can both get.” 

Tommy nudged her. “Tell her that I’ll send Charlie in a boat to pick her up from the station.”

Her brows rose. “May, can you hang on a second?” she covered the mouthpiece of the phone with her palm. “A boat?”

“Safer than having her come by cab. I don’t trust Changretta not to try to take her hostage should he find out she’s coming.”

“Okayyyy,” she removed her hand from the mouthpiece. “May, how would you feel about coming by boat from the station?”

“Boat?”

“Mhm. Charlie would come pick you up and you’d come in through the canals. It would be safer considering all the…trouble we’ve been dealing with lately.”

“You mean the mafia?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Curly let it slip when I came to pick up the horse. And a boat would be fine, if you think it would be safer.”

“We’ll talk with Charlie and I’ll call you later with the date and where you should go for him to pick you up.”  

“Alright.”

“Talk later.”

“Bye, Lucy.”

She set the phone back into its cradle, a bubble of excitement building in her chest. She had missed May.

“She said yes?” Tommy asked, eyes trained on the paper in front of him, scribbling his signature on the line at the bottom.

“Yeah.”

“Mm,” he looked up at her with dancing eyes. “Good.”

She took a step towards him, rubbing idly at his shoulder while she watched him sign another paper before setting it aside. “Something to look forward to, at least.” She bit her lip. “Maybe…you could book a suite for all of us while she’s here.”

His gaze snapped up to hers, cheeks twitching as he tried to hide a mischievous smile. “Oh? And what sort of things do you think we would do in this suite, hm?”

Her hands slid along the nape of his neck while he encouraged her back into his lap.

“All sorts of things,” she said, voice lowered. 

Tommy purred in deep approval, and brought his lips to hers. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Lucy puffed on her cigarette, moving to push her curls more firmly underneath her cap. For not the first time, she cursed her dark red hair for its obviousness, silently wishing that she’d worn a wig to better conceal it. Tommy’s hand shot out to gently take her wrist, lowering her hand from her head.  

“You’re fine. Hardly anyone will be able to see us up here, anyway.”

She drew in a shaky breath, nodding silently and adjusting her grip on the rifle in her hand, peeking out the narrow window they were stationed behind, down to the square where Johnny Dogs was posing as a vendor selling meats. 

She had stood by quietly earlier at Charlie’s yard while Tommy had laid out the plan they’d come up with Arthur after Mrs. Ross’s visit to the office and the delivery of her strange invitation. Charlie had handed her a rifle that she leaned casually against as Tommy gave the other boys their instructions. 

“Don’t know what you think you need the rest of us for, Tom, when you’ve got this one with her deadshot and new fondness for lopping off heads,” Johnny had chuckled, reaching around the ruffle Lucy’s hair fondly. She had rolled her eyes at him affectionately, smiling to herself as all the men laughed. 

Would it be terrible to say that she had missed this? 

Her eyes fixed on the entry points to the square, muscles tensed and prepared to spring into action at the first sign of trouble. She could see Arthur climbing the stairs, heading in the direction of Mrs. Ross’s home. Taking one last long drag from her cigarette, she stubbed it out against the stone windowsill, bouncing once on her toes in preparation. 

Beside her, stress seemed to come off of Tommy in waves, his shoulder so tense where it lightly brushed against hers that Lucy was half worried he would snap like a rubber band. She leaned her side more firmly into his, hoping that the press of their bodies together would help soothe him a little. He just sighed deeply, reaching out a hand to smooth along the back of her skull, down her spine to rest on the small of her back, encouraging her to lean more heavily into him. 

They waited for what felt like an age after Arthur disappeared inside of Mrs. Ross’s home. A few beads of sweat rolled down Lucy’s back, her chest feeling tight with tension. 

They had told their men guarding Michael to be ready. And Polly, Ada, and Linda were all holed up at the betting shop, surrounded by a small army of their men. Just in case this whole thing turned out to be a decoy.

“Car,” she breathed out suddenly, spotting the nose of what looked like a Rolls Royce pulling up in one of the alleys. Tommy spotted it at the same time she did, a high whistle sounding from his lips in warning to their other men positioned around the square. She shifted the rifle in her hands, finger curling over the trigger.

The car idled in the alley, a man stepping out and leaning against one of the car’s doors while he lit a cigarette. Lucy narrowed her eyes, trying to discern if she recognized him or not from any of the photos of Luca’s men they’d acquired. Tommy raised a hand to Johnny and Isiah down below, silently ordering them to hold their fire. 

“Wait,” he breathed out, when she moved to raise her rifle and take aim. She raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told, keeping her rifle lowered.  

Another seemingly massive stretch of time seemed to pass. The man at the car didn’t move; didn’t do anything at all except smoke and stare at the wall.

A young girl suddenly darted out onto the street, a blue handkerchief clutched in her hand. She came to a stop at the mouth of the alley, waved it wildly over her head, and then took off running back the way she’d came. The man leapt back into the car and then it was reversing back, away from the square. Tommy shouted out the order to fire on it, but it was already out of their line of sight from the angle that the window was at. Johnny and Isiah opened up on it with their revolvers, but just based on the looks on their faces, she knew that they hadn’t managed to cause any legitimate damage. 

Beside her, Tommy was shouting to them that it was a decoy, ordering for the car to be brought around. He took her hand firmly, leading her along down the stairs. They took them two at a time, jumping into the car where it pulled up half on the curb.

“Who did you think they went for instead?” she asked, wiping some hair out of her eyes. 

“Michael. I can’t see Luca being dumb enough to try an all out assault on the betting shop with so many of our men working there. Michael’s the most vulnerable.” 

They took off speeding to the hospital, the horn of the car blaring to warn pedestrians and other vehicles out of the way. It was barely parked and shut off before they were piling out and tearing through the hospital’s front doors, footsteps clattering up the stairs, revolvers pulled from coats. 

Tommy pushed through the double doors first, coming to such a sudden halt that Lucy nearly collided with him.

The wall to the side of the door was splattered with fresh blood, dripping like crimson tears down the pristine, white paint. The body of one of their men was slumped on the floor, his head still oozing red in a sluggish river.

She and Tommy shared a look, and then they were rushing to the doors that led into Michael’s room. Arthur blew the lock off, and Tommy shouldered them open, hurrying to where Michael was half slouched against bed. His eyes were wide, face pale as a ghost. 

Tommy was by his side in a second, asking in a voice that was suddenly incredibly paternal what had happened. Lucy swept the corners of the room, fingers flexing on her revolver as she checked for any enemies that may have been hiding to ambush them. There was no one, but the door leading out the back way was hanging ajar. Michael was stuttering something about how the Italians had run away when they heard them coming.  

“Go,” Lucy ordered to Arthur, and he went racing through the door with Johnny. She doubted that they would be able to catch any of them, but it was worth a shot.    

Tommy collapsed into one of the chairs at the table in the center of the room, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Lucy uncocked her revolver and tucked it back into her holster, her own breaths labored from the mad dash from the square to the car and up the stairs. 

Her eyes landed on Michael, and the hairs on the back of her arms stood on end at the look she saw cross his face when he told Tommy that he was fine and unhurt. There was something in his eyes…something calculated and almost malicious. It made her stomach heave queasily with anxiety, instincts prickling in alarm.

There was something that Michael was not telling them. Something important.

Lucy suddenly couldn’t shake the feeling that while there may have been no Italians in the room with them, that did not mean that they were not in the presence of an enemy. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

She waited as Tommy finished up his phone call to Charlie, arms crossed and finger tapping against her bicep while she waited. The exhale that he let out after hanging up and leaning back in his chair carried with it the weight of the world, stress clear in the frown melding itself to his lips. He sat there for a long moment, just thinking, and then rose to his feet, indicating with a small jerk of his head that he wanted her to follow him. 

Lucy had debated whether or not to tell him about the thing she’d seen in Michael’s face the whole way back from the hospital to the betting shop. A part of her had thought–hoped, was actually the more accurate word–that she was just being paranoid. But the feelings of uneasiness within her had not gotten better since they’d left Michael. It was as if something had shifted. The moment Michael decided not to tell them the thing that was of such importance, everything within him and between him and Tommy had changed. 

“Tommy?” she started carefully. He just grunted in response. “Did you notice anything strange about Michael when we were at the hospital?”

He just sighed, long and exhaustedly. “You noticed that too, eh?”

“It was strange, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm. Yeah, it was.”

She lowered her voice. “I had told Polly not to tell Michael about the plan to offer you up to Luca on a silver platter. Maybe it had something to do with that? Luca might’ve said something while he was in the room with him.” 

Polly had told them that when she made contact with Luca, she had asked him to spare everyone else if she handed over Tommy. To get his focus off of the rest of them for a while. Alleviate the danger somewhat, at least for everyone else. Nervous as it may have made Lucy, it was a risk Tommy was more than willing to take.

“Luca’s clearly decided to take the deal. That’s the only way to explain why Michael’s alive at all. I don’t believe that shit he said about the gun misfiring. We would have heard it.”

“We should have been able to hear them running, had they still been in the room when we made it up there and made and break for it only after we arrived. But I didn’t hear any footsteps at all when we got into the room,” she sighed, pulling a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it. “Maybe…if he’s pieced it together that Polly is the one who made a deal with Luca, he’s just trying to protect her.”

Tommy gave her a look. “Do you really believe that?”

She exhaled again, a plume of smoke flowing from her lips and up into the air around them. “Not really,” she considered whether or not to share the next bit, “I haven’t felt good about him for a while now, Tom. Not since he killed Hughes, actually. I thought…that killing the priest would help him. Like how killing Matthew helped me. But I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Not everyone can be like you, love,” Tommy said gently. 

“There’s this way that he looks at you sometimes, when he thinks you aren’t watching. I don’t like it,” chewing on her bottom lip, she watched the black smoke rise up from the factories around them, suddenly feeling very anxious. “Like he’s sizing you up.”

“Like he’s looking for weak points?”

“Yeah. He’s gotten more ambitious. Maybe…” she shook her head, letting out a breath, rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t know. But I don’t have a good feeling about any of it.”

Tommy hummed, considering as they walked. “We’ll just keep an eye on him for now.”

“Right.” She nodded, and reached out to thread her arms through his. She asked him if they could stop for some food, and by the time they’d eaten, ran some errands, and gotten to Charlie’s yard, it was nightfall.

The lantern swung precariously from Tommy’s hand, clutched in the one not interlaced with hers. They found the Golds waiting for them in the stables, and she left Tommy to the business of paying them for the men they’d killed while she cooed over a few of the horses currently being housed there. 

“Oi! I got four all on my own earlier!” she bristled a little, looking over her shoulder when Aberama suggested that, considering the lack of casualties inflicted by them today, that they’d been spending too much time pushing paper. Tommy just grumbled, pointing out that Aberama and his men had also allowed Luca to get away, even if they had managed to take out two of his men.

She made a movement to follow him when he snatched up his lantern and headed for the door, but froze at Aberama’s voice suddenly calling out to her. 

“Miss. Winters! Before you go, there’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Aberama called, and she and Tommy both hesitated. Her memory, of Aberama trying to tell her something at the last family meeting before she’d stormed off to kill Alessio, was promptly jogged. Jesus, with everything else going on, she’d completely forgotten that there was something he had wanted to say to her. “You remember our discussion at the house, earlier, I mentioned knowing your aunt and cousins?”

Something cold washed over her. “Yes.”

Aberama nodded, removing his hat and straightening his back, looking her squarely in the eye. “The last time that I spoke with Miri, it was but a few months ago. She said that your mother had been traveling with them since about 1920 or so.”

That sounded about right. Her mother had left their family home in London at around that time to rejoin the caravans. After telling Lucy that she thought it best that they never saw each other again. 

Aberama looked for a moment like he did not entirely know what to say, lips parting, an expression of what she realized after a moment was compassion crossing his face. “Your mother is dead, Miss. Winters. She died this past winter. I’m sorry.”

Her brows pinched, for a moment not entirely understanding. Her legs swayed slightly underneath her, suddenly feeling greatly unsteady. The world felt like it had fallen entirely away, and all she could see was her mother’s face. Her mother who, for all of her flaws and shortcomings, Lucy had never been able to entirely bring herself to resent. Mum had tried, after all. And there had been moments when she was successful in protecting Lucy from her father’s abuse and fanaticism. Her mother had been a kind person with a big heart. And when Lucy was young, everyone had always told her how much she was like her mother had been when she was that age. 

Mum had been what she would have become, had her father been successful in his attempts to force her into marriage with Matthew Sutton. A broken, abused woman, all fight and spunk beaten out of her through the years of horror that her husband had inflicted upon her. But she had loved Lucy and her brothers as best as she could. She had done her very best with all of them.  

Lucy let out a small sound, taking a few shaky steps towards the stall where the horses were. Her hand gripped the sturdy wood, using it to keep herself steady. One of the horses–one that belonged to the Golds, she assumed, since she didn’t recognize him–nudged his nose at her. She stroked it absently. 

“Love?” she heard Tommy’s voice distantly, almost as if he were underwater, and then felt his hand tentatively resting on her back.

“How?” she asked hoarsely. 

Aberama hesitated, and she knew from that alone that whatever he was about to tell her would not be easy to hear. 

“Miri said that she was unwell from the moment that she first arrived.”

Lucy frowned. “She always had problems with migraines…”

“Not that kind of unwell.”

She went quiet at that.

“Miri said that the melancholy would come and go. Some days she would be fine. Others, well…” he trailed off. Lucy sniffed, and could feel Tommy’s thumb rubbing circles into her back. Aberama continued. “It started to get worse, and last longer. It happened gradually, you see. And then, one night while the rest of the camp was asleep, Genevieve took a rope and found a tree–”

“That’s enough,” Tommy barked sternly. Lucy shook her head furiously, turning and taking hold of the hand that he’d been resting on her back.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I need to hear it,” her voice came out as a cracked whisper. Tommy looked her over for a moment, and she was touched at the deep worry in his eyes, squeezing his fingers in gratefulness. She looked back at Aberama. He met her gaze steadily.

“They found her hanging from a branch in the morning. They burned her and her vardo. As she wanted.”

Sniffling, Lucy wiped furiously at her eyes, not wanting to be seen crying in front of strangers. 

Could they really still be considered strangers, though? After what Aberama had just told her?

“Thank you for telling me, Aberama,” she said. 

He nodded, fingers playing with each other. “I thought you ought to know.”

Wiping a clammy hand across her forehead, she blinked hard, barely keeping the bulk of her tears back. “Tommy, will you take me home?” 

He was there in an instant, arm wrapping comfortingly around her shoulders, steering her towards the exit with a gentle “come on.” She let him shepherd her along, pressing in closer to his side, suddenly feeling very cold and alone. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Tommy said, voice deep and soft in the otherwise dark of night. She latched onto him like a child would a security blanket, suddenly terrified that if she let him go, she would slip away and be lost in the dark for good. 

He had to leave the lantern in the yard, and when they stepped onto the cobblestones without it, she was reminded horribly of her dream with the darkness rushing up to consume both her and Grace in one great swallow, the blackness washing everything away. But Tommy’s grip remained firm around her, guiding her through the dark with his warm touch and the soft murmurs of his voice. 

She didn’t start properly crying until they’d turned onto Watery Lane. Tommy ushered her quickly down the remainder of the street and finally into the house, and the moment that the door was closed and the lock latched into place, he was pulling her into his arms. 

He rubbed her back and stroked her hair gingerly while she cried. Not big heaving sobs but soft, spasming little whimpers, hugging him tight around the middle while her face buried in his chest. 

Her mother had killed herself. Had been so miserable and depressed that she hadn’t wanted to live anymore. Not even amongst the caravans and kin that she had always spoken so longingly of.  

Lucy had not wanted her mother to leave. She had wanted her to stay. Wanted to look after her. For her to get to know Tommy. The thought of how she would have no doubt doted over Charlie had another wave of tears springing forth into her eyes.

She’d let her go. Why had she done that? She could have forced her to stay. Could have insisted. But she’d let her go. And now her mother was dead.  

“Lucy?” Tommy asked tentatively once her tears had ebbed to just quiet sniffles, pulling back just enough so that he could see her face. 

“I shouldn’t have let her leave, Tommy.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. This isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known,” at her unconvinced shrug, he took her by the shoulders, pulling back to look her sternly in the eye. “All you’ve heard is a greatly abridged version of what happened. There’s probably a whole lot of details that Aberama doesn’t even know about. And besides,” he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “You couldn’t have forced her to stay. She made the choice to leave. And what happened after is not on you. All right?”

She closed her eyes, nodding weakly, forcing herself to listen to him. Trying to believe what he was saying. 

“Come here,” he pulled her back into him, giving her a fierce hug that greatly helped to stifle the grief raging in her heart. 

“I didn’t expect it to affect me this much,” she mused after a couple minutes. “I mean…I’d more or less thought of her as already dead anyway…”

“Sometimes thinking and knowing are two drastically different things.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I suppose that’s true.”  

“Lucy?” a soft voice asked from the doorway, and they both started. Charlie was standing there on the threshold that led from the front sitting room into the kitchen, dressed in his pajamas and rubbing at his eyes.

“Charlie, mate, what are you doing up?” Tommy asked.

“I heard noises,” he took a step towards them, big blue eyes focused on Lucy. “Why are you crying?”

She hastily wiped at her eyes, managing a trembling smile. “I just got some sad news, honey. That’s all.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Everything’s fine,” she gave Tommy’s elbow a small squeeze. “Your dad’s taking good care of me.”

Tommy gave her a small smile, pecking her on the forehead. Charlie shuffled closer, until he was right in front of her, and then wrapped his little arms around her waist, hugging her almost as ferociously as his father had been a moment ago. 

“Don’t be sad, Lucy.”

Tears of a different variety pricked at her eyes. “Thank you, kiddo,” she said, stroking the soft blonde hair on his head. He craned his head up to look at her. 

“Do you want my stuffed horse? Squeezing him always makes me feel better when I’m sad…”

She chuckled, ruffling affectionately at his hair. “No, that’s okay, Charlie. You can give him a few extra squeezes for me, okay?”

“Okay!”

Tommy smiled down at his boy, touching his shoulder lightly. “Let’s get you back in bed, eh?”

“But I’m not tired!”

“Mm, but Daddy and Lucy are. It’s past our bedtime,” he scooped Charlie up, lifting him onto his hip. “Which means it is wayyy past time you were in bed.”

Charlie pouted, but seemed content to be carried back upstairs. Lucy followed her boys with a small smile into Charlie’s room, Tommy depositing the boy gently onto the mattress, letting him get situated, horse squeezed against his chest and head snuggled into the pillow, before pulling the blankets up around him.

“Goodnight, my boy,” he said, smoothing a hand across Charlie’s brow. 

“Goodnight, Daddy.”

Lucy felt her heart squeeze, trading places with Tommy to kiss Charlie’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, Charlie.”

“Goodnight, Lucy,” he mumbled, the yawn he released greatly undercutting his previous claims of not being tired.

She switched off the light and joined Tommy in the hall, closing the door gently behind her and following him to their bedroom next door. The moment they were inside, he inched in closer to her, wrapping his arms around her so she could rest her head on his chest once more. 

“What a fucking day.”

She hummed in agreement, turning her face to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I’m starting to miss home.”

“Arrow House?”

She nodded. “Mostly riding around the grounds with the horses. Camping out in the woods by the house…”

“When this is all over, we’ll take Sin and Wraith and go out together.”

“I’d like that.”

He kissed the top of her head, and they remained there, just holding each other, for a long, long time.  

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[mlmxreader]

The Other Changretta | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ "You can start by trying to get closer to me - I don't bite" ❞

: ̗̀➛ Alfie knows its wrong, but he can't help but to find himself drawn to Luca Changretta's brother.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, flirting

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

As the adopted brother of Luca Changretta, him and Angel made sure that you grew up learning the same things about the family business that they did; you and Luca were closer, mostly because he wanted you to take over after him, partially because you were good at charming people as well.

You could hold negotiations and always walk away with more than what you were meant to; it came naturally to you, and Luca noticed from a young age that you had a lot of potential.

But years later, that potential came in handy.

Camden wasn't as bad as he had made it sound, and when you sat down in the office, you couldn't help but to smile at the man across from you; heavily tattooed, he had a sadness to his eyes that you had only seen on the frontlines during the war, and you knew it well.

He tried to hide it with his beard and his hat tilted slightly forward to keep the light from his eyes, but you still managed to find it easily. You leaned back, clearing your throat as you sighed and dared to pull the folder from your pocket, tossing it onto his desk.

"My brother sends his regards," you started, "and hopes that you'll accept his apologies for not being here. He had to tend to our father."

He nodded slowly, looking you up and down and humming softly. "So he sent you?"

"I can assure you, Mister Solomons," you started, "my brother wouldn't have sent me if he didn't trust me."

"Ain't that," Solomons mused. "You ain't arrogant like he is. My boys told me you went 'round fuckin' shakin' their hands."

"You give as much respect to the King as you do his men," you told him with a curt nod. "Learned that in the war... why have enemies, when you can have friends, right?"

He smiled, raising his brows as he leaned back. "The war?"

"Yessir," you nodded curtly. "I fought in Doiran, and the Eastern Front."

"East?" Solomons scoffed. "With or against the ruskies?"

"Neither," you told him. "Heard what happened to them in Osowiec, but... that was the closest to them I ever got."

Solomons noddedly slowly, and you could tell that he was warming up slightly; a fellow war veteran, it was easier for him to understand. "And now you're here. Big ray of fuckin' sunshine."

"And now I'm here," you sighed. "You served, didn't you?"

"Western Front," he confirmed. "Somme."

"Right," you said softly. "Awful business, that was... look, Mister Solomons, I'll be honest - Luca doesn't think this is worth the time. He thinks you're full of shit and that you'll stab us in the back the second you get the chance."

"He's right."

"He is," you nodded. "But Luca's a sly fox. You let him into the hen house, and you're not gonna get any eggs, if you catch my drift? I get it, y'know, you're protecting your people - I admire it. My brother doesn't get it."

"Did he serve?"

"No, Sir," you shook your head. "He doesn't get it. He never will. You get into bed with him, you're fucked."

"So what?" Solomons asked with a quirked brow. "I get into bed with you?"

"I wouldn't say no," you hummed. "You're certainly handsome enough."

He licked his lips as he grinned. At least you were honest and you got to the point, too many people tried to beat around the bush and flatter him - but you went straight for his throat, and you weren't going to let go any time soon. He nodded slowly, gesturing for you to get closer.

"Alright, Mister Changretta," he agreed. "I'll get into bed with you."

You smiled, raising your brows. "Tell me where to begin."

"You can start by trying to get closer to me - I don't bite," Solomons smiled. "You can bite as much as you like, though."

"I'd leave my mark on you," you whispered, moving your chair around so that you were sat right next to him, his knee pressed against yours.

"I wouldn't complain," Solomons murmured. "You ain't at all like the other cunts who walk in here, y'know."

"I'm not like anyone you've ever met," you whispered. "I can promise you that, Mister Solomons."

Pulling you onto his lap, he hummed as he let you settle your weight against him. "It's Alfie. No need for fuckin' formalities now."

"Alfie," you whispered, running your hands up and down his chest. "Alfred?"

"Only my mum calls me that," he chuckled. "Tell me - how long you in Camden for?"

You sighed as you tried to think. "I gotta be back to my brothers on the sixth."

"Two weeks," Alfie murmured. "I'm sure we can get to know each other more than well enough to decide on a deal to keep your fuckin' brother's mouth shut - can't we?"

"Absolutelty," you agreed. "Two weeks, we'll have plenty of time to negotiate."

Alfie couldn't place his finger on it, in all honesty; maybe it was the way you actually understood what had happened during the war, maybe it was just your looks and your honesty.

But he hated the thought of sending you away once the meeting had concluded; he wanted to know you better, he wanted to know more about the real you - not the business side. He licked his lips, chewing at the inside of his lip. He knew someone like you during the war, confident and suave, smart and quick... maybe that's what it was.

"Alright," Alfie started, "on your way out, go an' see Ollie. He's gonna give you my home address. Be there by eight tonight, yeah?"

"A social call?" You grinned. "Already?"

"Yeah, well, call it fuckin' soldier's intuition, but I have a feelin' you're a lot more than just a fuckin' Changretta," he told you. "My mum says to trust my gut, so... eight sharp, yeah?"

You nodded. "Eight o'clock sharp. I'll be there."

"Atta boy." He praised, having no clue of the fluttering feeling those two words invoked in your stomach.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

The Italian Beasts Beauty

John Shelby's daughter, Charlotte May is offered up to the Changretta's through marriage to end the vendetta. She is processing her fathers senseless death. Can she understand her husbands perspective and fall in love with him?

Luca stood at the altar trying not to fidget. This was the same church his cousin had gotten married in fifteen years ago. Blood red roses, baby's breath flowers and ornate crystals hung everywhere showing the guests in an elaborate warm ceremony. 

Truthfully nothing was warm or romantic about this wedding.

Thomas Shelby and Audrey Changretta had come up with a truce. 

A wedding between John Shelby’s eldest daughter, Charlotte May Shelby. And Vincente Changretta’s son, Luciano Changretta. 

He’d never laid on his bride to be. He hoped she was at least decent to look at, she was a Shelby. There women looked English so it could go either way. He just hoped she didn't look like a horse. 

“Come on, when does the fucking thing start?” Irritation was latched onto every nerve in his being. He’d just wanted to kill them all and go back to New York. 

No, his mother insisted he get a bride before he headed back. 

“Luca, look.” Matteo nodded down the aisle. The music swelled as he turned to see his bride to be walking down the aisle by her two surviving uncles. Thomas Shelby and Arthur Shelby.

Well…she was being carried. He could tell she was stiff, her feet dangling comically off the ground as they carried her forward. 

Great, she was already trying to embarrass him. He grit his teeth and clenched his fist. He found his mother in the crowd and shot her an evil eye. How dare she marry him off into this family! This was a fucking joke!

He should have married his brother's whore and avenged Angelo on his wedding night. 

“Straighten up, now!” Tommy’s voice growled out low and menacing. Luca sighed. They were actually agreeing on something. What was with this broad? 

“Come on luv, it's your wedding day. Smile eh.” Her uncle Arthur pleaded softly. 

Luca almost laughed out loud when she shoved them both off and walked the two steps up to him.

The priest started the ceremony immediately in Italian, both parties kneeled. 

Her veil was so thick he couldn’t even see a face shape under it. She'd worn a little tiara with a red rose over it, securing her face from his view. He’d noticed when she stood in front of him that she was no bigger than a peanut. Maybe 5 feet and no inches if he were being generous. He was 6’1. He towered over her like a giant. 

“Settle down, I don’t wanna be here either.” He whispered harshly, glaring at her. His jaw set in anger. He wasn’t angry with her, not that she understood that. The whole situation was just a big fucking joke to him. 

Her trembling was so bad, he could hear the top of her shoes tapping on the floor as they knelt in front of the priest. She was scared out of her mind. He reached over and grabbed her hand holding it tightly. She tried pulling away of course, it was no use. He was stronger. He’d meant it to be comforting. He swore she sucked in a breath. 

After an hour the ceremony was finally finished. They stood facing each other, she still heavily veiled like a grecian virgin. He took a deep breath in as he lifted the fabric.

“ You look like a fuckin doll.” His New York accent was thick but he couldn’t breath if he tried. She was absolutely stunning. 

“Tu sei bellissima.” He muttered as his side of the church gasped. The Shelby’s had outdone themselves. She was worth the whole Vendetta. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

She had a heart shaped face, delicate and sweet. Pulp full red lips and huge gray eyes. Must have been from her mothers side. Pale blonde hair that hung loosely to her mid back. Everything about her was petite and porcelain-like, fragile and dainty like a living doll. If he squeezed her too tight he’d have no doubt she’d shatter. She was going to be the envy of all of New York City! Now she was his. 

Charlotte stood still next to her husband's side al;l night like a dutiful little wife. She wasn’t surprised when her family had abandoned her after the ceremony. Ada stayed until her babysitter needed to be relieved from her cousin  Karl. which was before dinner.

Charlotte, Lottie Shelby…Changretta, was now completely embedded within her husband's family.  

She couldn’t speak Italian, there had been no preparation. He’ll she hadn’t even had time to process her father's passing. The image of him pale and still in his military splendor in the caravan before it was engulfed in flames.

Flames of Hell she thought. All because of what? He wouldn’t let his ex fiance date or marry her Italian lover? He was already  committed to her beautiful and feral gypsy step mom Esme Lee Shelby.  Charlotte couldn’t imagine why he chose to start a war, or why her uncle needed to encourage it. For what?

It had been a Christmas she’d never forget, that was for sure. Her wedding was taking place on January 1st. 

A New Year for a new alliance.  If she ever saw her aunt Polly again, she’d slap her for coining that phrase. Her family had been saying it all week. 

“ Bellissima, they want us to finish dinner, cut the cake and dance.” He was leaning into her. His husky voice was like silk passing through her ears. 

God, she wanted to hate him. She couldn’t though. She didn’t understand her fathers choices. He’d killed her husband's brother and then his father. Nothing had even come out of it! Fucking waste. 

Her mother in law seemed uncomfortable with her presence in spite of the fact that this had been her plan. 

She followed him, mechanical all night. She just smiled. Nodded her face like a doll and said what she was told to say. 

He was handsome, Dark hair, olive skin and piercing eyes. He had been accommodating and seemed genuinely pleased to have her by his side. It was her face, she hadn’t said two words to him outside of the vows. 

She couldn’t wait for her own wedding day…

to be over. 

[reiwanwan]

Whispers of the Tide

On a peaceful shoreline, Y/n Shelby awaits her executioner, Luca Changretta.

This is part 2 of Beneath the Streetlamp

content includes: Mentions of guns, blood, mentions of killing

The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow over the water as the waves lapped gently against the shore. Y/N stood at the water's edge, her feet bare, toes sinking into the wet sand. The sea had always been a place of peace for her, a place where she could let her mind drift away from the chaos of life. It reminded her of simpler times—playing with her siblings along the shoreline, laughing, running, and forgetting, if only for a moment, the troubles that always seemed to chase them.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed the footsteps approaching from behind. But she wasn’t surprised either. Luca Changretta was the type of man who always found his way to her. It had become almost routine, this quiet dance they shared, knowing what was coming but never acknowledging it outright.

"Always finding me, aren’t you?" she said, her voice calm, as if greeting an old friend rather than a deadly enemy.

Luca smirked as he stepped closer, his hands in his pockets. "I’ve got a knack for it," he replied smoothly, his eyes studying her. There was something about her calmness that always unnerved him.

"How’d you find me this time?" she asked, a faint smile playing on her lips as she turned slightly to face him.

He shrugged, glancing out at the sea. "I’m always finding you, Y/N," he said softly, a strange note of affection in his tone. They stood there in silence for a moment, watching the waves, two people who should have been enemies but seemed more like two weary souls sharing a quiet moment of understanding.

"Do you like the sea?" he asked after a while, breaking the silence.

Y/N nodded, her eyes never leaving the horizon. "I do," she replied. "It makes me forget about everything. Just for a little while, it’s like none of it matters."

Luca stared at her, and for a brief moment, he saw a glimpse of something—something he wasn’t sure he had ever seen in her before. Peace, maybe. Or acceptance. He wasn’t sure.

Y/N’s next words cut through the air like a knife, casual but heavy with meaning. "So," she said softly, "is today the day?"

Luca’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at her, the faintest hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "Today’s the day."

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t try to run or fight. She just nodded, as if she had been expecting it all along. "I didn’t bring anything to protect myself," she said lightly, almost like it was a joke, but there was no humor in her voice. "Maybe it’s just my time."

Luca’s grip on the gun tightened, though it remained at his side for now. "I prayed for you once, you know," he said, his voice low.

Y/N’s lips curled into a faint smile. "I remember. I told you to pray." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Thank you for that."

He let out a short laugh, though it held no real amusement. "What are you going to do? Will you tell my father I’m a good boy?" He tried making one last attempt at a joke.

Y/N turned to him fully, her expression soft. "Maybe I will."

"Don’t," Luca said quickly, shaking his head. "That’d be lying. And anyway, he’s probably watching over me right now, seeing everything I’m about to do" He said pointing to the sky.

Silence hung between them again, heavy and suffocating. Luca knew what he had to do, and Y/N…well, she was ready. Or at least she acted like she was. He didn’t know why she wasn’t fighting back, why she wasn’t begging for her life like everyone else had. Maybe she was just as tired of all this bullshit as he was.

The time had come. Luca raised the gun, pointing it at her head. Y/N met his gaze, her eyes unblinking, calm, and full of acceptance. She didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle. And in that moment, Luca realized she wasn’t afraid. She had resigned herself to this fate long ago.

He pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed along the shoreline, the seagulls flying off in startled flocks. Y/N fell, her body crumpling to the ground like a rag doll. Luca stood there for a moment, staring down at her. He felt something, but he wasn’t sure if it was regret or relieved. Maybe a bit of both.

After a moment, he knelt down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. She was gone, her eyes closed peacefully, as if she had simply fallen asleep. He carried her to the nearby hospital, placing her gently on the steps, making sure her body was arranged in a way that looked respectful. Then, without a word, he took off his coat and draped it over her, covering her completely.

It was only when he walked away that he allowed himself to feel anything. He lit a cigarette, his hands shaking slightly as he smoked. He didn’t feel bad exactly. He had to do it. He wanted to do it. It was part of the plan, part of the life they both lived. But there was something about her—about Y/N—that made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, she had been as lost as he was.

He stared at the sea for a long time, thinking of her, of the calmness in her eyes, the acceptance in her voice. He exhaled a long breath, letting the smoke drift away with the wind.

"Maybe she was just as broken as me," he muttered to himself, flicking the cigarette into the sand before turning and walking away from the sea, leaving behind the only person who had ever truly understood him.

[autumnleopard]

Whumptober fic coming in! And it's chunky and heavy.

When Luca Changretta comes to Birmingham to take revenge for his father and brother, Tommy makes a difficult and consequential decision.

He makes a deal with the devil, and sells his soul.

Words: 5641

[evita-shelby]

Not so different

For @peakyswritings and their fic's first anniversary!

Luca x Eva ft Nina Ferrante x Tommy

It was considered improper in Luca’s family to wear black to a wedding, but Eva’s husband had not said a thing about it, so she continued her custom.

Besides, the dress was a work of art and Eva had cultivated that image of otherworldly being thanks to the high pedestal Spinietta had placed her on.

A living saint who will be interred in the Vatican with her godfather and the lucky man she chose as her husband.

The Ferrantes were allies, possibly distant kin on his mother’s side and when Riccardo was told what Stefano had been up to, the Boss had to send his witch and his most promising Capo.

“Leave it to Shelby to make trouble.” Luca shook his head with a laugh after she regaled him the full story the jilted ---but relieved--- bride and her sisters had told her as they welcomed them to their home. “He always had a thing for Sicilian girls, when I lived in England everyone knew he’d marry Greta Jurossi, God rest her soul, no matter how much her father tried to drive him away.”

Luca knew the groom, a Romani gangster from his father’s city whom Luca and his brother had grown up with. It was Tommy Shelby’s own aunt who had been Luca’s sweetheart when he was a young man, something that Eva did not mind.

Not because the witch has overcome her jealousy ---the day Eva no longer wants to wring a woman’s neck for getting near her man will be when she is dead and gone--- but because Luca knows better than to trifle with her. Much like Birmingham and New York, there were quite a number of women here he’d slept with, but Eva’s baby fever ensured her husband barely even registered his exes were there.

“How did you manage to sleep with so many women in this village, if you have only been here twice?” the witch asked knowing he’d have nowhere to run sitting here in the pews as they waited for the mystery bride.

“Good girls like bad men, pussycat.” He smirked with his olive-green eyes sparkling with pride. “Why do you think Tommy is marrying his host’s daughter and not the one selected for him?”

They don’t continue speaking about Luca’s irresistible charms when the bridal procession begins. Even with the veil covering her face, Eva knows the girl is a beauty, one with a soul to match it and more than met the eye.

There was also that Nina had a spark of rebellion, something that set her apart from her cousins even if they shared looks and traits. Men like Luca and Tommy seek someone who challenges them, who intrigues them and cannot simply conform to the standard their societies have for women.

Italy is not so different than Mexico.

Though Eva had a vastly different upbringing, she was still expected to marry and have children and have no other dreams than keeping tradition. Eva was lucky that her family flouted convention and ensured she had the same education as a man and that she had as much freedom as a son would.

Nina Ferrante had her parents who loved and protected her even when she went against the grain, Shelby will be the man to let her have the independence a spirited woman like her desires.

As long as the Changrettas and the Shelbys remain tenuous allies, Eva would wish them all the happiness in the world and the fortitude to survive its troubles.

It is not until much later when they are properly introduced.

Luca takes the lead knowing he is being sized up by Shelby, and yet as they stand there viewing each other as potential threats, Luca’s congratulations hold a note of sincerity. They weren’t always enemies, once upon a time the Changrettas and the Shelbys were friends and neighbors before they were rival gangs.

“My family sends their congratulations as well. My stepmother was very happy to know you were able to find happiness after Greta’s passing, especially with someone more deserving than the barmaid and the whore your brother tried to marry.” Luca has two intentions with his words, the first was to hurt Shelby for sport and the second to give the bride a heads up should Shelby take up old habits.

A different person could tolerate infidelity, but in families like theirs an infidelity could cost the offender their life. Even if the bride forgave him, the Family would not.

“I have seen the two of you will be happy together, the two of you were meant to find each other. I hope you can visit us in New York soon, though not as lovely as Sicily, it has its charms.” Eva smoothed things over with the newlyweds or did what she could to assuage Nina’s fears.

The bride thanks her, though still unsettled by Luca’s words and Tommy Shelby’s change in demeanor.

They do not meet again until John Shelby leaves Angel beaten and bleeding on the shop floor. And all because Shelby’s secretary had become involved with Luca’s younger brother.

Shelby did not rein in his brothers when asked and now this was escalating to something no one wanted. You would think this business with the Russians would give Tommy Shelby a chance to keep his family on a leash until it was over.

“He wants your father-in-law’s territories; Lizzie is just an excuse. I fear he doesn’t understand the scale this war could be.” Nina, now older with children, an Oxford education and accustomed to her role as Mrs. Shelby, does not beat around the bush as they meet for tea in Birmingham’s city center.

“Your husband is as resilient as a cockroach, dear, he has cheated death so many times he and his brothers think they will do so again. If this war happens, I will be forced to take part for my husband and children’s sake and I promise you, it will wipe the Shelby name off the face of the earth.” The witch would give up her soul for Luca’s victory, if this war came to pass, there is nothing she would not do to ensure their enemies are all dead.

Luca has no qualms killing children, and whatever feelings he had for Polly Gray won’t save her either. If Angel or his father were hurt or killed in Shelby’s pursuit of power, no one, not even the family cat would be spared.

“What can we do to stop it?” the Italian woman asks swallowing her fears and seeking a better course forward. She has not lost her spark of defiance, or else she wouldn’t be here behind Tommy’s back.

“The same thing our families have always done to secure peace and prosperity, we bind our families through blood.” The witch sips her tea as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening there. Eva’s grown too used to negotiating truces with her status as the deity advising the Spinettas. “Though it will be a while until our children are old enough to marry each other, you have a young brother-in-law and I have an English cousin worth her weight in gold. Lizzie’s marriage to Angel will be part of bargain, or Shelby will have no allies when the Russians fuck him over.”

“They used to call me a witch back home, you know.” Nina takes it all in stride. “They ate their words when they met you and saw all that Stefano and his family had said was all true. The Spinettas are right to fear you, you and Luca could easily take the crown from them.”

The witch smiled, “Oh these mortals have a way of branding what they don’t like as witchcraft and when the real thing arrived at their doorstep, they found themselves too scared to speak.”

She’s the strega who will curse them to the deepest pits of hell or the benevolent santa who will make all their wishes come true. She is not Eva to anyone save her family these days.

“But, yes, we do plan on taking their crown. Your husband can have England if he helps us take America.”

[justrainandcoffee]

Happy day (dad!Luca Changretta)

Summary: Because of work, Luca's ex wife and mother of his kid had to travel to other city and Luca is taking care of his little Cathy. And a brief trip to Disneyworld it doesn't sound that bad. The baby is happy and he's in love with her.

Warnings: None.

Words: 400.|| This is part of my celebration.

Mama isn't there and father and daughter are alone. Luca and Cathy's mom aren't together and yet they are. They always loved eachother despite the problems they had prior their divorce. And even more now that they have the baby that plays with Luca's hands.

Luca could kill for her daughter.

Cathy looks ar him and smiles. Too young to understand what's going on, and yet, she knows that the man at her side is her father and she is safe in his arms.

The day that Aveline told him that she was pregnant it was a day he'd never forget. But that happiness was eclipsed by the moment he held her in his arms for the first time. He was there when Catherine was born, he heard her cried for the first time and it was a feeling that he never imagined he could have.

Around them, people walk, laugh and eat. Disneyland is a magic place and seeing their faces it's obvious why. That is a happy place. Aveline could say that workers don't have the same opinion, and she's right, but visitants are happy people. And so is Cathy.

Her Minnie ears and dress look adorable in her. Luca should have taken photos of the place where they're, instead all his cellphone is full of photos of his baby. And his cats.

He buys her more toys. Everything she wants, even if she can't speak yet. When they stop to eat, everything is a mess. But what do you expect? His white shirt suddenly has tomato sauce on it. He doesn't care.

More pictures are taken. Cathy and Pluto, Cathy and Cinderella, Cathy and Peter Pan…

When the sun starts to hide, it's time to go. Cathy is almost asleep and Luca covers her with her blanket in the baby stroller. She's hugging her new Donald Duck.

But she's not completely asleep.

"Pa-pa"

Luca's world suddenly stop.

"What?"

"Pa-pa" she repeats and laugh. Her childish laugh makes Luca smile. Honestly, he wants to cry.

Papa. Dad . Cathy's first words.

As he pushes the stroller to his car, to return home, he's smiling. He doesn't care if people look at him.

For him it was a really happy day.

(The Changrettas in modern times live in London bit suddenly they're in Florida 😂. Ignore that. I needed them on Disney 💁‍♀️. They can teleport 🤣.)