#mob!tom one shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spideyzgirl · 2 years

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it’s not all roses

summary: you and tom, your neighbor, have been dating for more than a year, and you have fallen in love with him. when he invites you over for dinner, you can’t help but feel like he’s going to propose to you. you’ve been waiting for the magical moment for a while, and boy does something magical happen.

pairing: mob!tom holland x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, guns, mentions of blood,

wc: 3411

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you’d only ever met one man who you’d truly call captivating. tom holland, your neighbor who you’ve been dating for a little more than a year. you were completely infatuated with him, it was safe to say you’ve never been happier.

tonight, he had invited you over for “a very special dinner”, so he had called it. you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, he was finally going to pop the question. the thought of marrying the person who made you the happiest was one you could fantasize about all day.

you could hardly keep the smile off your face as you slipped into the pretty dress he bought you a while ago, along with the gorgeous diamond earrings he gifted you.

“y/n i’m so excited for you!” your best friend squealed over the phone. “do you think he’ll actually propose tonight?”

“i hope so. i really hope i’m not just assuming,” you muttered as doubt started to settle in your head.

“don’t think negative, i know he will. you’d better prepare for the celebratory dick you’re getting after.” she giggled.

“i’m hanging up now.” you winced.

after putting on your favorite perfume (also gifted to you by tom), you left your home, walking right to toms. using the spare key he got you, you let yourself in, greeting his cat twix with a few pets.

“tom?” you called out to him.

“in the kitchen, darling.” he responded. you followed the noise of kitchen utensils clanking together, and found tom in front of the oven with his back facing you. you smiled at the sight of him doing this for you. you were so lucky to find someone to care for you as much as he did. you snuck up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back.

“hey babygirl.” you greeted him.

“hello sweetheart,” he chuckled. “don’t you look gorgeous.” he pulled you up so you were leaning against his side, and gave you a long kiss.

“mm, can i have another one? just one more please?” he pouted. you laughed at him but complied, connecting your lips for another kiss. he grabbed your chin gently, holding you there for longer than you initially thought he would.

“god i love you.” he mumbled against your lips before giving you one last peck. “now, you and twix get out. you’re distracting me.” he playfully nudged you away.

“but i wanna know what you’re making. it smells really good.”

“you’ll see, now go relax. it’ll be ready in a second.”

you walked into the dining room, not expecting to see an arrangement of your favorite flowers, and warm scented candles lit. you sometimes felt undeserving of the things tom did for you, but he’d always be there to tell you otherwise. you’ve never felt so loved and appreciated in a relationship, it almost felt too good to be true.

“i’m gonna take your silence as a sign that you like it.” tom spoke as he walked up behind you with two plates of spaghetti. he set the plates down and placed his hands on his hips, observing his work.

your silence was starting to worry him though, and panic started to take over. “it’s- it’s not too much is it? maybe the candles were overboard, i admit. but-“

“tom, shut up. it’s perfect. it’s so perfect.”

“okay.” he gave you his signature cute smile before sitting down with you to eat.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

“take it easy on the drinks darling, there’s something i wanna ask you later.” he grinned as you poured your second glass of wine.

you bit your lip to keep from smiling like a maniac. you almost wanted to skip the dinner and get right to the proposal. well, his question. you had to consider the fact that he was probably asking you something else. or hell, he’d probably tell you what he does for his job - after a year - and how he can afford all of the costly things he gifts you. the smile on your face dissipated as you thought about it again.

it always bothered you at the wrong moments. you were annoyed with the way you couldn’t focus on the nice dinner tom spent his time on for you. you were now thinking about his one flaw. not only was it bothersome, but it was confusing. tom claims he loves you, but he won’t trust you with the most simplest fact about him after a year of being together? it was weird and hurtful. anytime you brought up the seemingly touchy topic, he’d always brush it off or quickly change the topic.

“are you alright? you’ve gone quiet.” he asked.

there was no use in bringing it up. he’d probably start talking about the weather. so, you put on a smile and shook your head. “i’m okay, sorry.”

but tom knew you better. “are you sure? is there anything i can get you?”

maybe the truth.

“i said i’m fine, tom. can we talk about something?” you huffed.

“okay, how’s work going?” he asked.

you scoffed at the irony of the question. “it’s going great, actually. what about your job? how’s that going? whatever you do.” you sarcastically smiled.

tom sighed as he finally realizes what got you so upset. that conversation. the conversation he’s had with you so many times, that he can hardly keep track of how many times he’s discussed it with you. he knew you were getting fed up with his avoidance about it, but it was better you didn’t know yet.

“it’s fine. are you ready for dessert? your favorite ice cream is in the freezer, it’s got your name on it.” he smiled awkwardly as he stood.

you sighed as you kept your glare on him. suddenly, several red dots danced their way up toms chest, before they all merged into one spot directly in the middle of his forehead. you squinted in confusion. tom was complete oblivious to what was happening.

“tom?”

“yes love?”

“what’s- what’s on your face?”

“somethings on my face? like what?” he asked simply, happy you were the one changing the subject this time.

“red dots. like laser pointers.”

“laser pointers? what’re you-“ tom gasped as his eyes shot open. “y/n, get down.”

“what?”

“get down!” he darted towards you, as the windows started shattering as a stream bullets began rapidly firing through them. tom grabbed your arm, pulling you down harshly under the table with him.

tom held you against his chest, his hand protecting your head as you cried in fear. the deafening sounds of the shots were enough to leave your ears ringing for days. there were no thoughts in your head, except for the one where you’re about to die in toms arms. the only thing letting you know you were still there was toms rapid heartbeat banging in your ear. you didn’t lift your head from his chest until the shots stopped firing through the house, the only audible noise was your ragged breathing and sniffles.

“tom-“

“shh.” he shushed you instantly, keeping a sharp ear out for signs of any people inside. he heard deep voices approaching the windows, followed by sounds of struggling, and finally the grinding of glass met with heavy footsteps. “there are no bodies, no blood. he’s still alive, find him. the girl too.” one of the voices boomed throughout the house.

you could see numerous black shoes scattering away from the windows, in search of you and tom. the men were tearing up anything and everything in the house in order to find you both. they were already upstairs; you could hear the muffled noises of things hitting the floors.

“listen to me,” tom whispered, grabbing your face and looking you in your glossy eyes. “we’re gonna run for the garage and get the fuck out of here, alright? stay close to me.”

you watched with fearful eyes as he grabbed a gun that was tapped to the bottom of the table, checking how many rounds were in the chamber before clicking it back into place. “what- what is that? why do you have that, tom? what’s going on? who are those people-“

“baby, we don’t have a lot of time for that right now. pretty soon, they’re gonna tear up with room too so we need to go. i promise i’ll explain this all later, just let me get you somewhere safe. nod if you understand.”

you nodded as more tears rolled down your cheeks. he crawled from under the table first, checking to make sure no one was around. once he was sure it was clear, he held his hand for you to take and you followed him from under the table.

you looked around anxiously. your flowers were disarranged and ruined, the glass of the vase shattered everywhere as water began to drip onto the floor. standing there witnessing the mess on the table, you felt like you were just waiting to die. you never thought it would be possible, but you didn’t feel safe in toms house anymore.

tom stealthily lead you both to the garage door. he opened it, but it was abruptly kicked shut by one of the men. tom quickly turned toward him, and they were both aiming their guns at the others head. he was much taller and burlier than tom. the man chuckled darkly as he cocked his gun. “you didn’t think you’d get away so quickly, did you?”

“well, for a second there, yeah.” tom shrugged, his gaze never lingering.

“stop fucking around, holland. we’ve got shit to discuss, you’re coming with us whether you want to or not.” he growled.

“you could’ve rung the doorbell.”

“that your girlfriend?” the man’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes running over your body as a disgusting ring fell on his lips. “y/n, isn’t it? she’s even sexier in person. such a shame you won’t be able to spend the rest of your lives together.”

he aimed the gun towards you now, but tom shot the man’s hand before he could even fire off his gun. you shrieked as the gun went off, alerting the others upstairs. the man was now sobbing on the floor, a stream of curses falling from his mouth.

tom yanked the door open and you both made a beeline toward the car. he hardly waited for the garage to fully open before he took off, speeding right out of the neighborhood.

he sighed and rubbed his head and looked over to you. you were in a complete state of panic. your entire body was trembling has you held yourself. tears were still running down your cheeks, your mascara with them.

“are you alright?” he asked you softly.

“take a guess.” you spat. “you just shot someone, tom! he’s probably going to die now, you just killed someone!”

“i would never kill anyone in front of you.”

“not in front of me? really? do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth?” you screamed.

“y/n, calm down. he’s not gonna die, i just shot his hand. the worst he’ll get is a lousy jerk off.”

“that’s not funny. and that doesn’t make me feel any better. you still shot someone.”

“what did you expect me to do, y/n? he was going to shoot you if i didn’t shoot him first. if you thought i was just gonna sit back and relax, you’re out of your fucking mind.” he snapped.

none of this was making sense. you had your heart set on a lovely dinner date with your boyfriend and possibly getting engaged, with mind blowing celebratory sex afterwards. definitely not this. you don’t even know the man beside you, all of a sudden. he was entirely unrecognizable from the man you were just having dinner with.

“what do you do for your job, tom?” you asked quietly.

his grip on the wheel tightened and he clenched his jaw, holding his silence.

“answer me.” you pressed.

“i’m the leader of a mob.” he didn’t look at you when he said it. he didn’t want to see your reaction. but he knew it was bad when you fell quiet. “i didn’t want you to find out this way. i was going to tell you, i swear.”

the leader of a fucking mob? you were dating a crime boss? these are things mentioned on the first date, right? who knows what kinds of shady shit he’s into. it didn’t sit right with you at all.

“where are you taking me.” you mumbled.

“somewhere safe. i’ll get you cleaned up, and you can get some rest.”

absolutely not. ‘somewhere safe’ was not convincing enough for you. as much as it hurt, you just wanted to get away from tom. “stop the car.” you spoke up.

“what?”

“stop the car, right fucking now.” you raised your voice.

tom obeyed, and watched as you frantically left the car and began walking along the side of the road. he sighed, rolling the window down and pulled up beside you. “y/n, what are you doing? we don’t have time for this. they’ll be on our asses any second now.”

“i’m getting the fuck away from you. i don’t want to be near you right now, i’m sure you can understand that.”

you words cut deep, but he understood you were just shaken up. “you have no where to go, y/n. some of them are most likely still in the neighborhood, you can’t go home.”

your stride faltered as his words hit you like a ton of bricks. you can’t go home. if not, where the hell could you go? you were too stubborn to get back in though. you didn’t have any money on you, but maybe you could make it to your parents if you kept walking. which would be a 25 mile walk.

“you heard him say your name, y/n. they’ve clearly done their research. they know you, whether you like it or not. they know your friends your family, their address. you’re not safe anywhere right now. if you come with me, i’ll keep you safe. you know that.”

you exhaled as you stopped walking. you hated how he was right. seeing as you had no other choice, you grumpily got back in the car, keeping your back faced towards him. he continued driving, and silence consumed the car.

you thought about twix suddenly, and a wave of dread ran through your veins. “do you think twix is okay?” you asked hopefully.

tom didn’t want to worsen your worried state, so he lied. “uh, she should be fine. probably took off when the first few shots hit.” he nodded.

you sighed a breath of relief, and tried to think about anything other than the events of the night, which proved impossible for the rest of the ride.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

it was well after 12 am once you arrived “somewhere safe”. your eyes lit up as you marveled at the enormous estate. once the gate opened, the car climbed the hill of a driveway before parking in front of the found fountain. lights shone through some of the floor to ceiling windows, giving you a glimpse of the beauty inside.

so the expensive gifts were just a tiny peak of his wealth.

tom noticed your reaction and smiled. he was relieved to see your face again. “it’s bigger on the inside, just wait.”

you watched as tom hopped out of the car, and you questioned how okay he was being right now. but you figured since he’s been doing this for god know how long, it probably doesn’t bother him as much. lucky bastard.

he opened your door for you and “come on then, let’s get you inside.”

you followed tom into the house, taking in the extravagance of the inside. the spacious loft area was well lit due to the gorgeous crystal chandelier hanging above. you could see your own reflection in the glossy hardwood floors. just when you thought it couldn’t get any more beautiful.

“this is all you?” you asked, still stunned by the house’s beauty.

“mostly me,” he nodded. “you like it?”

“that’s one way to put it.” you took note of the random people who went up and down the stairs every few minutes or so, and others who were chatting in the sitting area. “and you just let people walk around the house, at all hours of the night?” you frowned.

“well, this isn’t the ‘home’ part of the house, if that makes sense. the more homey part is in the west wing. come, i’ll show you.”

“i’m sorry, the west wing? what is this, bruce manor? how big is this place?”

suddenly, someone called out to tom, their footsteps hurriedly approaching. it was a blond haired boy, about the same age as tom.

“tom, mate,” he said, clearly winded from the run. “i just got word that your back. i wish you would’ve called back up or some shit instead of running.”

“i had something important to keep safe,” tom stated, gesturing towards you. “harrison, this is y/n.”

you looked at harrison and gave him a subtle smile.

“ah, y/n. i’ve heard your name being moaned in the wee hours of the night before. it’s no wonder, though.” his eyes trailed up your body and he licked his lips, making your stomach turn.

“hey, control yourself. she’s been through enough shit tonight.” tom warned.

“yeah, no kidding.” harrison eyes were trained on your bloody knees, and you winced when you saw how your blood was beginning to trickle down your legs. you blamed adrenaline for why you couldn’t feel it before. now that attention was brought to it, it was starting to sting.

“oh darling,” tom gasped. “that looks bad.”

“man, even in the midst of almost being murdered, you’re both still at it like horn dogs.” harrison chuckled.

“tom, slap him before i do.”

“oh my god. i’m gonna go get her patched up. i’ll meet you in my office afterwards.”

“i don’t like him.” you muttered after harrison walked away.

“it took me a while too.”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

after tom treated your wounds, he left you some of his older clothes for you to change into. you snuggled into his large comfy bed, and he sat on the edge of the bed.

“i’m sorry i don’t have anything cozier for you to sleep in. i don’t have… woman clothes.” he shrugged.

“don’t be sorry, it’s a comfort to me.”

“right,” he chuckled. “can i get you anything before i go?”

“just some space…” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“..space?”

the crack in his voice tugged at your heart strings, but you continued. “yes, tom. i meant what i said earlier. i can’t be around you right now. not until i can’t clear my head, okay? i still haven’t even processed the last 3 hours of the day.”

tom understand completely, but that didn’t mean he liked it. after today, he just wanted to hold you and fall asleep with you under the warm covers. he wanted to kiss you softly as you fell asleep, hear the soft whistle of your nose as you rested. but he won’t be getting any of that tonight. it hurt him to hear you say how you, the love of his life, didn’t want to be around him.

“alright. yeah, i understand. tonight was hectic. take as long as you need, sweetheart.” he leaned over to kiss your temple. “goodnight.”

he hit the light switch before he left and shut the door, leaving you to question what the fuck happened in the course of 4 hours. you were back to questioning if you were safe with tom. there was no doubt that your life was in good hands since, apparently, he’s good with a gun. but what if those people came back? you recalled how they were searching for you as well. what would happen if they found you? what would they do with you? what if tom couldn’t save you this time? the thought alone sent chills down your spine.

you were feeling too much all at once. hurt because tom lied to you and terrified for your life. confused, because you weren’t sure who you were dating anymore. it was funny how you were so ready to get tied down to him, and now you were second guessing that.

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maple-the-awesome · 1 year

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Heir ||

Pairing: Mob! (any) Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 2,825

Requested by Anonymous: Okay so can u write (or if u don't take request can we just discuss?) about mob! Peter Parker when the reader is pregnant?? Like he'd be absolutely hyperactive and take care of her every second. Not leaving her for a sec alone and then taking all his work into his office at home bc he just wants to stay near to her. Constantly spoiling her and buying her everything she is craving, baby proofing the whole house, constantly having sex bc she is extra horny and then of course talking to her baby bump when he thinks she's fast asleep!! Just . So. Cute. I'm always a sucker for pregnant reader stories. Here you go 💜 Warning: Suggestive/Explicit content (nothing too detailed, but the request does involve a horny pregnant reader and Peter's a deliverer, sooo~)

Marvel Masterlist 🖤 Fandom Masterlist 🖤 Requests

Peter Parker, a young tycoon from upscale New York who likes to attend the most lavish of social gatherings and only owns what is considered 'top of the line' be it clothes, jewelry, houses, cars - you name it, but that is, of course, a part of his carefully constructed public image. Hidden in secret and shadows, his name is one often whispered as a form of jinx from the mouths of the criminal class. They understand the red ink Mr. Parker's name is written with; they know the true nature of his work.

Peter has quite the reputation, to put it short. Extortion, loan sharking, and corruption of public officials can be considered the 'nicer' side of his dealings, although seeing the exact lengths most individuals go through just to avoid a frown upon his face, it can easily be concluded that he's perfectly willingly to go much further if business calls for it.

He's headstrong and cold meaning that, once he sets his mind to something, there is no convincing him otherwise unless a certain voice is to plead it. There is a voice that can speak louder than his all by a mere breath against his ear; a sound sweet enough to poison his every thought, shatter his iron will, and remove that fearsome reputation of his like a form of temporary baptism.

For you, his precious wife, there is only 'Peter', a loving husband so devoted to the one who holds his heart that he would remove mountains if you preferred the view, carve the earth until it's hallow if you desire a gown of rare gems, and set fire to all of New York just to see your face shine in the golden flames. For you alone, Peter will take a knee, being whatever pleases you, although at the moment, all you ask is that he accepts defeat.

It's quite amusing really. Within the years of your marriage, you've heard countless accounts about how savage and gruesome your dear husband is; the wolf from fairy tales or, more fitting to his nickname, a spider haunting the dreams of those with severe arachnophobia. You'd be more inclined to believe such stories if not for how adorable he currently looks, his legs sprawled out across the floor as he struggles to put together the complex design yet remains very adamant that he will not be accepting defeat against a pile of rosewood.

You've been here watching the scene for well over an hour now, sitting rather comfortably yourself in a new rocking chair while snuggled up in an equally young silk blanket, soft cotton pajamas, and wool socks with a warm mug of ginger tea housed in your hands.

Without anything else to truly do and knowing full well any offers of assistance will continue to be denied (you've tried), you have taken to either sitting or pacing about the room every now and again to stretch your aching back, but you make sure to do the latter sparring since you've discovered the more you move, the more you increase poor Peter's worry.

The record so far is five minutes before your husband is hovering at your side, fussing like a British nanny over something: do you need anything, princess? Medicine? Another blanket? Is it too cold in here? Too warm? Perhaps it's best if you go lay down or shall we go for a walk in the garden for some fresh air?

It's amusing to you how doting Peter can be - well, how much more doting he can be, is a better way of putting it. Truth be told, he has always been an attentive husband, existing at your every beckon and call despite his own busy work schedule.

Each morning, you awake to kisses down your collarbone and a freshly picked flower next to your plate at breakfast. Throughout the day, he spares every possible second that he can for your request, becoming all yours during those breaks no matter how short. Do you want to read together in the library? Eat lunch in the garden if he has that much time? Peter has never been against any suggestion regardless of how rushed he may be in the moment, going as far as to sneak into the nearest closest for…Well, you can probably use your imagination for that part.

Peter prides himself on rarely letting you down, pained too deeply by your tears and too afraid of your shouts (a funny thought considering what his job entails). Fortunately, your fights are few and far inbetween, his anger reserved for work alone, not his precious wife who, quite honestly, is the only good thing to enter his hectic life aside from May and even Ben when he was still around - Oh, and also that little life you currently carry within your womb; they’re a fairly recent add on to Peter's list of loved ones.

You remember it like just yesterday when you had first told him the news. You, yourself, had been a nervous wreck despite having been actively trying for children. All of your preparation and desires seemed to instantly go out the window in that moment, replaced by the weight of the world upon your shoulders as you stared at that little white test confirming for certain that you are, in fact, carrying the weight of a little world inside of you.

Pregnant? Are you really ready to do this? Can you really be a good mom or will you somehow mess it up? What if Peter was only pacifying you when he offered to fulfill your desire of bearing his children? What if he wasn't being honest then and actually detests the idea of children running around his mansion, screaming and creating messes as children typically do? So many worries plagued your mind that day, all put to rest once receiving Peter's true reaction.

It took him a minute - actually four - where he just stared at you, letting the wheels turn inside his head while carefully asking if you were being serious. Then, within seconds - which is no exaggeration -, you were within his arms, your face soon cupped in his hands as he tearfully asked you the same question again followed by giddy laughter when you confirmed it a third time.

Your husband has always been doting, however now that you hold his child - his heir - this behavior has been increased tenfold. You officially bear double the importance to him, thus any harm that may befall you would become his downfall leading to him collapsing in on himself like a dying star (excuse his dramatics). Therefore, Peter has amplified his protective and attentive behaviors, becoming a hyperactive presence in your life that can be admittedly overwhelming at times.

It began plainly enough with him moving all of his work to the home office where he could be within range of your calls for every second of the day. Parties, business trips, and anything else that would require traveling became forbidden, not that he ever cared much for them anyways. Security had also been added upon with Peter triple checking all interviews and background checks which were usually entrusted to his right-hand man, Miles, who has never steered him wrong before, but one can never be too careful.

While not bad in the beginning, Peter’s anxieties soon became suffocating. His innocent research into all things parenthood soon started viewing every piece of advice or recommendations as holy. The doctor said too much of something isn't good to eat? Then you won't taste a grain! There can be germs around the mansion that cause you illness? Everything must be washed! Everything! Oh, and the mansion must be entirely baby proof! Each corner, every nook and crank - Nothing left to chance! Simply put, Peter doesn't want to take any chances, treating you as if you're some sort of ticking time bomb which is, in a way, true given your horrendous mood swings at times.

For a while there, it felt that Peter was coming to you everyday with something new he wanted to try. Playing certain music to help the baby's development or drafting a new meal plan that gets rid of some of your favorites because a certain ingredient isn't 'good for you'. Being currently drained due to a changing body, you’ve been in no mood for Peter's 'crowding', and the meal thing had been your final straw. He unfortunately learned this the hard way when you finally lost your patience resulting in a full hour of shouting at him then another sobbing your apologies.

After that day, Peter has backed off a little. He still spends every night reading parent books which are left stacked at his bedside, but he's much more reasonable with his suggestions and has learned to not believe everything he reads, usually running it through Aunt May first just to be sure he won't get his head ripped off if he brings the information to you (yeah, you're not quite sure he's recovered from the trauma of your scolding, poor baby).

Of course, you can never truly be mad at Peter for caring, something he knows, too. Pregnancy is stressful both mentally and physically, thus it's lovely to have a husband just as willing to trek through the ugly as he is to observe the beauty.

As it's hopefully been made clear, he has no issue in spoiling you. Anything you want is yours to have. Are you craving some foreign food? He'll have it flown in or hire a special chief to prepare it just for you. Do you wish for cuddles? He'll move his schedule around the best he can to accommodate for a day in bed, snuggled in mounts of blankets as you rest comfortably in his arms. Even if you're suffering from horrible mood swings, be it awful crying or livid screaming, he will happily endure it feeling it's the least he can do in return for all his wife is doing for him.

Oh, and then there's the sex. Why hadn't anyone told you being pregnant would make you this horny? Some days, you're barely able to keep your hands off of poor Peter (not that he's actually suffering in any shape or form, quite the opposite). Of course, you blame him for it because not only did he make you this way, but he insists on being in the same room as you practically all hours of the day. How are you not to leap at him when he's sitting right there, looking all hot and sexy as he runs his hand through his hair or bites his lip in concentration while going over paperwork?

…Yeah...Peter's probably fucked you more than he's actually completed any of his work, but when your wife is sitting on top of your lap, peppering your neck in kisses and pawing at your erection all while swelling with your baby within her womb? What's a man to do?

Looking back at how perfect Peter has been, you don't think you could ever feel more confident in who you've married. He could've turned you away that first day you asked him to impregnate you, he could be doing the bare minimum without any personal inference just to keep you ‘happy’ and out of his hair, but instead, he has remained loyal to his responsibilities, going above and beyond in the name of pure love. It's enough to make you swoon (and maybe a little aroused, damn your hormones), however at the moment, you're a bit too tired to express any of it outwardly. Maybe later when you have the energy for something more physical.

Right now, you only wish to close your eyes, enjoying the warm sun which floods through the window at just the right angle that it blankets you in the rocking chair - something you're sure Peter took into consideration when planning the layout of this nursery. Bless him indeed.

You have zero intentions in moving, too warm and too at peace especially since the baby has finally stopped wiggling around like a little worm inside of you. Not wanting to disrupt the precious bean, you'll remain put in silence where you can both rest together.

You hear Peter give an exasperated groan from where he sits on the floor. Based on it, you're certain he must have his hands in his hair, tugging at the roots. Accompanied with the sound of him stretching his legs and the amount of time it takes him to actually stand up, you'd guess it must've been hell for his muscles to stay in such a position for so long, not that you feel that bad, only for a second at most. If you've survived seven months of your entire body aching, he can surely manage a numb feeling in his legs for a few minutes.

He tip toes over the hurricane of wood planks, but gives a good kick to some of the screws with a hissed breath and hands placed on his hips. He'll have to ask Miles for someone who can build this damned crib for him, he doesn't have the patience to fiddle with it any longer, but at least his anger is forgotten once he looks at you. The golden sun dressed over your face, the peaceful rest of your skin and slight part of your cherry lips as you take in each breath: you’re truly the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, a fact he is constantly reminded of especially in the small moments like this.

Peter wonders if your baby will take after you. He desperately hopes so, if not in appearance than at least in personality. He hopes that whoever they end up being, it isn't anything like him. Although he was happy to take Uncle Ben's place in the business, it wasn't what Ben wanted and, now that he is going to be a father himself, Peter finally understands that.

The more he thinks of his precious child, the more certain Peter becomes that he doesn't want them to be his heir. He doesn't want them to know violence or bloodshed, lies and deceit. He doesn't want them to tell the other children at school that their daddy is their hero - to ever think such a thing in admiration because that would just be the first step down his path.

He wants them to be like you. He wants them to be kind and patient, fair and dignified. He wants their love, yes, but he also wants them to be realistic as you are - to know that what he does for a living isn't truly a good thing and that they should strive to be something more, something better. They don't need to be proud of him, but he will forever be proud of them. That's what Uncle Ben wanted for him, and while he failed on that front himself, he hopes his child can do better; he'll do better by being around to lead them down that right path.

Kneeled in front of you, Peter whispers all these things, his hands gracing your swollen stomach as he makes a trail of endless promises to the unborn child who can’t process any of it at the moment, however that's fine; Peter will be there to remind them of his love throughout the rest of their life.

"...I can't wait to meet them..." He hushes, pressing his lips to your stomach in a long kiss. Only a few more months and he'll be able to do the same to their forehead. He'll likely never stop either, not if he remains this drunk on admiration towards them.

You smile, blinking open your eyes to gaze down at him, "They can't wait to meet you either."

"How do you know?" He challenges playfully, leaning into your touch when your hand rests upon his cheek, always so warm to him.

"Because they kick anytime they hear your voice," you explain, letting your other hand fall onto your stomach, "They were sleeping peacefully until you started talking. Now they’re wide awake waiting for you to say more."

"I'm sorry," he doesn't look it, a delighted smile still tugging at his lips. He always apologizes, although he's far from being meaningful. Sorry that you must endure so much pain and stress, but not sorry that it's all going to be for your beloved child. Nine months in return for a life which will continue to grow and carry the best traits of you both, isn’t that a good deal?

Fortunately for your husband, you have never been truly mad, agreeing that it’ll indeed be worth it in the end. Slumping back your head against the chair, you close your eyes again and hum as you remind him, "...Peter, they're waiting for you to say more."

He beams, dropping his head lightly against your stomach where his ear can press against your covered skin as if it’ll allow him the deepest connection with the life waiting inside, "Then I will say more."

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silkylovey · 2 years

Text

Laws and guns seven

a/n: in love with tom and y/n atm

laws and guns masterlist

Tom

After our time talking to all our guests, dinner was announced. Everyone sat in their assigned place, I was sitting next to Y/n. I looked at her side profile while she kept looking at our guests. At our table were only Harrison, my brothers except for Paddy, who still had to sit by my parents, and Y/n’s childhood friend Tatiana Kelia, who kept looking at me septically. I had a feeling that she didn’t like me but that didn’t matter because the only one who needed to like me was Y/n.

Our food was delivered by Y/n’s hired chefs, their food looking delicious, I wanted to dig in but I noticed my parents chit chatted, more like demanding each other to de a speech and then my dad stood up, tapping his knife on his champagne glass. The sounds of the glass made everyone look at him.

“Hello everyone, I am Dom, or as you may know me the beginner of Holland’s mob. When I gave my son the position of being a boss, he was not taking it seriously. He was out screaming about his mob without trying to upgrade it until our lovely Y/n or his wife came into his life and she turned his whole life around. I want to thank Y/n for changing my son and the mob for the better. To Tom and Y/n.”

Everyone said our names and raised their glasses in the air, I just looked at Y/n with a smile but it quickly faded away to see her looking at her lap, picking her nails. She was nervous, the fearless character she played broke in front of a group of mobsters.

To make it seem like we were a happy couple like my dad just told everyone we were, I grabbed the leg of her chair and pulled it closer to mine, the sudden movement caused her to look at me with a confused look. I just smiled at her and she smiled back. My smile grew to my eyes. She smiled at me.

After the toast, everyone started eating their food. I was enjoying the food, it was delicious. Y/n hadn’t moved the chair so she was sitting so close to me that I could hear her breathing. I looked over at her and I noticed that she didn’t eat, she was picking at her food, moving the vegetables around.

“Are you okay?”

She looked at me after my sudden question and she just nodded looking back at her plate. She didn’t have a smile anymore on her face.

Y/n

Tom smiled at me and I smiled back. God, what was I an idiot? Why did I smile back at him? While he invited Clara, whom I know I didn’t invite, and then he had the audacity to ask me if I was okay as if he didn’t invite his mistress to our gala, as if he didn’t try to have sex with me this morning. What is his problem?

I wasn’t hungry, I was a few minutes ago before I was the strawberry blond hair I know oh so well. The blond hair that I wanted to pull because she touched what was mine. I felt a sort of jealousy towards her because she had the chance to experience getting an orgasm from Tom, she experienced how he felt under her fingertips and the more I thought about it the more I felt green inside.

Tom kept looking at me and he even put his hand on my thigh, I felt butterflies in my sex but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure that he wanted.

The tables were getting cleared and Tom just kept his hands on my thigh, I knew I should have slapped it away but his hand also gave me a sort of warmth, the one that he gave me when he slept next to me. When his hand started trailing down my body. This morning was the only thing left in my mind, I could work without thinking about his fingers, about his lips. About his touch.

People were gathering on the dance floor, I could see people smiling, laughing, and hugging each other. This gala brought people together, who hadn’t seen each other in a long time. I saw all the mafia women chatting about their new jobs and houses, while I sat watching them. I saw how Clara kept glancing at Tom, while he was chatting with Harrison.

I stood up and Tatiana followed, we headed to the dance floor, just like good old times. Times where we danced during our night during university, times where we planned on getting dicked down. Now look at us now, I was married to a man I didn’t love, I think, and she was happily engaged with a man that she loved, she had her little family of her own. The life I could only dream of.

“Y/n, lovely gala you organized. Please tell me who the party planner was?” Maria asked while coming over with the other mob women, they all looked at their best.

“It’s Clara Strange, but she is the type of woman that works for you, to fuck your husband, so I would not recommend her.”

Maria’s eyes shot open, she was shocked and I looked over to Tom to see that he was looking at us with a confused glare as if he didn’t know what we were talking about, as if he didn’t invite Clara. God, he was making me angry.

He walked over to me with so much pride and ego and all the women were looking at him, including Clara. He stood next to me wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing my cheek. I didn’t move, too angry to even feel him next to me.

The ladies left us as a couple even Tatiana left me, I looked at her with a ‘really’ face and she just smirked. His arm stayed put on my waist but his body moved so that we were facing each other. We were so close that I was I could smell the mint in his breath and I was sure that he could hear my heartbeat over the slow jazzy music.

“What’s the matter, love?” he whispered in my ear with a husky voice, the same kind of voice as this morning, the type of voice that made me wet.

I didn’t respond, I just kept swaying my hips to the rhythm of the music and Tom just followed my lead, his head soon fell on my neck and he started leaving kisses, wet kisses. My breath hitched and I could feel him smile on my neck, he started looking for my weak spots. Spots that could lead to much more than just neck kisses.

He broke away from my neck and I already started missing the way it felt, he broke away because some people began to bid their farewell and more people left and our house became more empty. Clara left without saying goodbye because she knew that I would intimidate her again. Even the cooks left so only Tom and I were the only ones in the living room.

“Why did you invite her?”

“Who?”

“Clara.”

“Was she here? I didn’t even notice.”

“Tom, don’t lie to me please.”

“Y/n, I promise I didn’t know she was here, and I didn’t invite her. She could have invited herself because she knew about this so don’t blame me, love.”

“Don’t ‘love’ me”

“Y/n, can you please stop being so goddamn stubborn,” his voice raised and he stood so close to me, so close that our lips could accidentally touch.

Tom

She was heavily breathing, her eyes shifted from my eyes to my parted lips. She stopped looking into my eyes, I did the same with her. We were so close to each other in a massive room but the air felt thickened as if there wasn’t enough air left, I wanted to lean in but I didn’t want Y/n to push me away but I was already so close to her so why ruin the chance now.

I leaned in and my whole body was on fire, a weird electric feeling went thru my whole body she from the feeling of her soft lips on mine. I just put my lips on her and she finally started moving hers, taking the lead in this kiss. My hands stayed on her waist while she finally touched me by putting her hands on my cheeks

I squeezed her waist and her mouth opened giving my tongue access to her, I slid my tongue in and she moved her hands to the back of my neck, pulling me closer than what I already was, she started making little noises, noises that instructed my cock to get hard and she finally pulled away, her lips puffy and red and her eyes stayed low, she was heavily breathing because of me, she made sounds because of me.

I picked her up and lead her to our bedroom without her sassy remarks, she accepted it, she was even kissing my neck, letting me touch her ass.

Y/n

Tom picked me up as if I was nothing, I felt so light in his hands. He kept massaging my bum and maybe it was the lust that influenced me but I really wanted him to fuck me. He put me on the floor when we arrived in our bedroom, and he kissed me again, I buried my hands in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands were on my waist, gripping it, squeezing it, making sure that they were marks left on me.

He turned me around and kissed the back of my neck and he zipped my dress down, it was in front of the mirror, the mirror where I looked at us this morning. I stepped out of the dress and his hands were directly on me again. He took off my bra and threw it somewhere in the room. His vest followed suit. He started to suck on my neck, leaving dark spots behind, marking his territory.

He looked at me with lust in his eyes. I started removing his dress shirt, I pushed him towards the bed, he sat on the edge of the bed and I sat on his lap, with nothing but black lace panties. I started grinding on top of him, his hands were back in their regular place, my waist. His hands helped you with your speed.

He turned us around, making him on top. He started kissing down my body. My breathing quickened, he stopped at the valley of my boobs, and his hands started massaging my right boob while his mouth was flicking, licking, nibbling my left nipple. I started whimpering, and he smiled. I loved the feeling of his smile on my skin.

“Sit on my face, baby.”

I was shocked but I still did what he ordered. He laid down and waited for me to sit, his head was right between my thighs, his hands wrapped around my thighs, pulling me closer to his face. I moaned when his tongue was inside of me. His hands caressed my body, running up and down, feeling my boobs. I started to lightly rock my hips against his tongue. His name fell out of my mouth. I was so close, I could feel a not in my lower belly, he increased the speed of the movement of his tongue. I came so hard, my whole body was shaking.

“I wanna suck you, Tommy.”

He stopped moving his tongue, but I just kept grinding on it. I felt too good, he pulled me off of him and he sat on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror. He was waiting for me to get on my knees in between his legs.

We were having extreme eye contact, I could feel the lust in his eyes. He looked at me as if he wanted to eat, something that he did not even one minute ago.

“Open your mouth for me.”

And I did, he slipped his thumb in my mouth, getting me ready for his cock. I bobbed my head as if it was his cock and he smiled at me. He started taking off his dress pants, and his boxers followed suit. I was met with the sight of a very hard dick, with a pulsing red tip.

He pulled my hair back in a makeshift ponytail, and he directed my head to his cock. He was going slow at first but when he was getting closer to the edge, so he started fucking my mouth. He was going all the way in, making me choke on his cock. But I didn’t care because the way that he was moaning turned me on even more.

“Your mouth feels so good, my love.”

He pulled out of my mouth and helped me stand up, he picked me up and guided me to the middle of the bed. He leaned down to kiss me, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He hummed when I wrapped my legs around his waist. He took off my panties with his teeth while keeping eye contact. I didn’t think that I could have been wetter than before but he proved me wrong.

He pressed the tip to my entrance, leaning over me before he pushed his hips forward. He stared down at me as I let out a gasp while grasping his arms and holding onto him as he slides completely inside of me. He nuzzled his head in my neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over the place.

Once he began the increase his speed, my hand started to leave marks on his back and shoulders, I threw my head back in pleasure while he watched me. He knew that I was close to my climax by the way that I was holding onto him, the way that I was moaning. He leaned down next to my ear. He started nibbling it and just when I was having an orgasm he whispered:” I’m in love with you, Y/n Holland.” That sentence made me cum harder than ever.

Was I falling for Tom Holland, my husband?

taglist: @sillyfreakfanparty @darlaboo @bloodline1632

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holyfruitsnax · 2 years

Text

Snax-Masterlist

The Main masterlist where everything goes! <3

Started: 08/12/22 Last Updated: 09/01/22 Total Works: 2

Requests: Open!

TGB&D MiniList

T.H.

Imagines

Not Cool Nate (Fluff, Nathan Drake x Sullivan!Reader)

To a Tee (Smut, Tom Holland x Neutral!Reader)

Series

Hidden In Plain Sight Pt.1 (Mob!Tom Holland x Detective!Reader)

#tom holland #Tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #Tom holland smut #Peter Parker #spiderman no way home #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #Spiderman #Arvin russell #Arvin russell imagine #Arvin russell x reader #nathan drake x reader #nathan drake imagine #nathan drake smut #mob!tom x reader #Cherry

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riseofthecommonwoodpile · 4 months

Text

it’s kinda funny to me how, even though my biggest problem with Roger Ebert is how middle of the road white liberal his takes and blind spots were, he’s also one of the only mainstream film critics who actually has To Kill a Mockingbird’s number. Some quotes from his retrospective review:

To Kill a Mockingbird, set in Maycomb, Alabama, in 1932, uses the realities of its time only as a backdrop for the portrait of a brave white liberal.

The courtroom scenes are the most celebrated in the movie…Atticus' summation to the jury is one of Gregory Peck's great scenes, but of course the all-white jury finds Tom Robinson guilty anyway…The problem here, for me, is that the conviction of Tom Robinson is not the point of the scene, which looks right past him to focus on the nobility of Atticus Finch.

Atticus drives out to Tom Robinson's house to break the sad news to his widow, Helen. She is played by Kim Hamilton (who is not credited, and indeed has no speaking lines in a film that finds time for dialog by two superfluous white neighbors of the Finches)…[Bob Ewell] lurches out of the shadows and says to [one of the men], "Boy, go in the house and bring out Atticus Finch." One of the men does so, Ewell spits in Atticus's face, Atticus stares him down and drives away. The black people in this scene are not treated as characters, but as props, and kept entirely in long shot. The close-ups are reserved for the white hero and villain.

This is a tricky note to end on, because it brings Boo Radley in literally from the wings as a distraction from the facts: An innocent black man was framed for a crime that never took place, he was convicted by a white jury in the face of overwhelming evidence, and he was shot dead in problematic circumstances. Now we are expected to feel good because the events got Boo out of the house.

To Kill a Mockingbird is, as I said, a time capsule. It expresses the liberal pieties of a more innocent time, and it goes very easy on the realities of small-town Alabama in the 1930s. One of the most dramatic scenes shows a lynch mob facing Atticus, who is all by himself on the jailhouse steps the night before Tom Robinson's trial. The mob is armed and prepared to break in and hang Robinson, but Scout bursts onto the scene, recognizes a poor farmer who has been befriended by her father, and shames him (and all the other men) into leaving…Could a child turn away a lynch mob at that time, in that place? Isn't it nice to think so.

like, you know what Roger? gotta give it up to you for this one. you nailed it.

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moon-fics · 9 months

Note

the barbie movie comes out this week and i can't help but think how would be funny and cute a one shot where mob! tom holland is dragged by his woman to see barbie, she makes them wear matching outfits (like barbie and ken) and he hates it but puts up with it because it would be a crime to spoil how excited she is

OMG, MORE MOB!TOM!!! I’m currently working on the two requests from before but more mod! Tom is excellent!😭

He absolutely does NOT want to go see the Barbie movie.

But when he sees how excited you are while talking he already knows this isn't a choice

He is forced to read every meme or watch every tiktok about the movie

He will NOT admit he laughs at Micheal Cera's Barbie headshot

He also won't admit he's beginning to quote those memes as well

He somehow manages to get you into the Premiere event for the movie

Holy shit is he going all out just for you

You decide you and Tom will dress up as a classic Barbie movie couple (Example: Genevieve and Derek or Princess Annika and Aidan)

He has bodyguards around at all times, but they are also forced to wear pastel colors

I believe this man would enjoy the entire movie but won't say it (Slay Girlies)

You have the best time at the event and that's all he needs to brush off comments about him becoming soft

During the film, he will hold your hand the entire time

No, he wasn't laughing at Ryan Gosling's Ken, that's NOT what happened don't be stupid

He definitely laughed at Ryan Gosling's Ken because he's just talking

Once the premier is over he'll spend the entire night driving to different food places with you just to buy all the Barbie-themed foods

His bodyguards have to wear pastel outfits the entire night, with no acceptions

Once you two finally get home you watch some classic Barbie movies before falling asleep

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland fluff #tom holland #tom holland blurb #mob!au #mob!tom holland

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debbeh · 5 months

Note

can u give me a guide to the six idiots :33 like maybe with a picture of them n their names n who they play in the Big Three shows :33 pwetty peesse :33

UM YES!?

ok, you saw me earlier trying to format all the images so it's gonna be mostly my (ehhhh) descriptions of the characters and you gotta guess what they look like 😈

Ben Willbond

Yonderland:

Elder Vex (above): the one who says Deb-beh and has the coziest looking outfit I NEED IT RN PLZ and the Tom Cardy- esque hair and earring

Nick: the stick. Grumpy all the time cuz he's a stick >:(. Is also a portal between dimensions but whatevs

Horrible Histories

Mike Peabody :historical news reporter that wishes he were anywhere but here rn

King Henry, Alexander the Great: SkINy MaNdRiA, excellent hair, sniffed a guy

Ghosts

The captain: AKA James, makes a lotta noises, if you ever hear me going weeeahhhhhuuuueeeaaaaaahhhh, I'm referencing him, the gay one<3

Martha Howe-Douglas!

Yonderland!!

Debbie.

Debbie's evil twin sister (bossy boobs)

I just googled it: Rita, the Negatus simp AKA us, the demon that looks like how female animals are protrayed in Barbie movies

Horrible Histories!!!

Boudica (look up the song, it's rlly good), Cleopatra, every female historical figure

Pirate lady....<33333

Ghosts!

Lady Button (present day): Old disgruntled lady that pouts all the time and falls out of windows

Lady Button (flashback)

Mathew Baynton!!!

Yonderland!!!

Oracle: weird blue blob guy, Nigel, Darling

Nanny la roo: NUM NUMS!!!! - nanny that is also a kangaroo

Admiral Anous: Voldemort mf I hate him bc he hates Negatus>:(

Elder Choop: Croissant hair mf, says, "IDK WHY DON'T WE ASK UR MUM??"

Le Fox: French

THE BIRRDDDDD: AKA Thomas Payne, Batman but cooler

Oh yeah, and Elf: the elf shaped one, full name: Grintallin Gobscrew Crotell Fashanu F’naw Goplatz Holla-Holla, has multiple wives apparently and is in debt to the mob

Horible Histories (look all of them up, they are all hot)

Dick Turpin: play the song >:333, shot not one but two men dead!

D.I. Bones: the whakkus bonkkused

King Charles II: absolute party-er

Ghosts

Thomas Thorne, shot, dead! Absolute poetic simp for Allison, drowned himself in the lake ;( -cannot drown-

Jim Howik!!!

Yonderland

Elder Pressley: looks like Elvis, eats christmas tree ornaments

Crone: A sLaPper *wink wink*, has apparently gotten with everyone, goes eeeerrrrrrrrrrr all the time- sounds like a doorhinge, she is amazing

Neil: lhe most normal of the demons probably

Horrible Histories

A SHOUTY MAN!!! :does all the infomercials, will try to sell you piss

King George VI (above) : "oh yesss, dad's dead, I'm king..."

King Richard III: a sweet little guy<3 -according to the song, get's attacked by whasp

Ghosts

Pat Butcher: Greatest DJ in the AAARRREEEEEUHHHHH, killed by a child, AKA Pete in the American version

Larry Rickard

Yonderland

Detective Mounteback: very dumb detective with very large hat

Elder Ho Tan: trans Icon, doesn't like loud noises, absolute baby<3

Sue: above, the lady with the gun from the episode I showed you

Horrible Histories

Bob Hale: weather report, needs a hellicopter and a nice cup of tea, basically Bill Wurtz

Lol knight with shit on head, Aztec guy, George III friend who slays so hard; "ConGRatu-VerY-LaTiOns your... *MAgEsTy*"

Ghosts

Humphrey: keeps getting left on roofs and shelves, does NOT know French smh

Robin: 5,000 yo ghosts, once saw a cool butterfly, KNOWS FRENCH! Got stuck by lightning and now he can turn on lights

and finally... the moment you've been waiting for...

Simon Farnaby!!!

Yonderland!!!

Negatus<333: Silly guy try to take over Yonderland but is just a lil guy, has an evil lair, uses The Font of Orris (cauldron thing that lets you see everything) as a hot tub, get's bullied by all the other overlords, wears pjs with houses on them.

Elder Flowers!!!: Long hair and lack of shirt, vegetarian hippie of the group, wants his clothes to be veGONE, "all you need is love, brothers... oh, and food"

Horrible Histories

Emperor Caligula: the wakkus bonkkus guy

Marcus Licinius Crassus: Knockoff Bassline Junkie song

Ghosts:

Jullian!!!: Died conducting an affair with his secretary!!!, is eternally sorta drunk, does the hand thing, only ghost that can interact with stuff, makes silly EEERREREEEEE noise when he's trying to move something, his name is Trevor in the American version, sad when there's no porn on da TV ;(, has no pants BTW

Thanks for coming to my TEDTALK!!!

Lemme know if I missed anything!

#yonderland #bbcghosts #negatus #sixidiots #themthere #ghosts

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satninroses · 11 months

Text

Broken Back & Doting Girlfriend

(A/N): I have nothing to say ;-; I hope you all enjoy! :-)

Summary: Elvis slips and injuries himself in the shower. You rush to help him but get sidetracked with little Elvis.

Pairing: Older! Elvis Presley x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2,788

Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI! Hand jobs (M. Receiving) Dirty talk, swearing, descriptions of injuries, mentions of Colonel Tom Parker

Elvis returned home a few days ago from his latest tour. This one in particular had taken a large toll on him. He felt like he had no time to breathe or talk on the phone with you. When he finally got home, you were glued to his hip to make up for all the lost time.

You felt as though Tom Parker was squeezing every last drop of energy out of him. You had pleaded with him to take a breather but Elvis persisted that he needed to prepare for the next big tour he was going on.

As if there wasn’t enough to worry about with his music and the Colonel, he always worried about you. He worried if you liked it at Graceland when he wasn’t there. He worried if you were comfortable in all the lavish clothes Elvis gifted to you. He even worried over if your dinner was warm enough.

Even before he met you, he was always stressed about his Mama and Papa. He always wanted to make sure they were ok and in need of any assistance. He had always told them that if they ever needed anything during a tour, he would walk right off that stage and take the first flight back to Memphis.

After his mom passed and his dad had distanced himself from the family, he was left with no one but him and the Mafia. Sure, he wasn’t lonely but he always get as if something were missing. He enjoyed how his mother doted on him as if he were still a young man.

Life had seemed dull for a year or two before he met you. He was well into his late thirties and you were fresh out of college. When he first spotted you outside the gates to Graceland, your sweet face had drawn him to you first. Your hair looked soft and your cheeks had a sweet pink tinge to them. You had the biggest and sweetest doe eyes he had ever seen. You sported a pretty pink dress the fell right beneath your knees. You had the prettiest string of pearls around your neck and on your ears. You were also wearing these adorable Mary Jane heels.

When he had first approached you, the girls around you grew excited at his presences and did everything to get his attention. Not trying to be rude, he handed out a few hugs and autographs. He wanted to push through all of them to get to you.

After the mob of girls had moved to the side for him to pass through, he stopped right in front of you. You were about a foot shorter than him. He peered over at your friend who was stationed next to you. She had an awe-struck look on her face while you babbled on about the newest fashion trends you wanted to indulge in.

He cleared his throat and your head shot up to look at him. You gasp and your hands come up to slap over your mouth. “You’re Elvis Presley.” The excitement rushed through your veins and up into your brain.

He checked and nodded his head. “In the flesh Darlin’. What’s your name?“ You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled up at him “(Y/N).”

He let go of you and grasped your chin in his hands. His lips met yours in a rush. You gripped his bicep and kissed back. He pushed back a little bit.

He released the short-lived kiss. “Listen, why don’t you come back here later tonight when I can meet you again without any nosy paparazzi. I’ll let security know that you’re coming. They’ll let you in.”

These last few years have been a dream for him. He loved you so much and you loved him even more. He was 39, almost 40 this year. You were on the verge of 23. You were so polite and kind-hearted. He doesn’t know what he would do without you. Every night, he thanks his lucky stars and mama that you were sent to him. He knows that if he were to step out of line even once when it came to you, his mama would rise up and scold him endlessly.

Tonight, he wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and cuddle with his beloved. He entered the bathroom connected to the bedroom. He stalked towards the faucet of the shower and switched it on. While he was waiting for the water to heat up, he took in his reflection through the mirror.

He was sweaty and he looked exhausted. The bags forming under his eyes were becoming increasingly noticeable. His arms bulked up a little bit from the endless guitar and piano playing these last few weeks. His eyes traveled down lower. He seemed to be bulking up in size in general. He wasn’t fat by any means, he was just a little round around the edges.

He turned away from the mirror and headed to the shower. He checked the water and stepped in. The hot waterfall was like the best back massage he had ever had. He felt much more relaxed and calm. He let the steam envelope him and clear his pores. He felt much less tense and more loose.

He allowed himself to put his guard down and enjoy himself. He began to hum the melody to Burnin’ Love.

“Lord Almighty. Feel my temperature rising,” he sang softly to himself.

He turned to grab the shower head to adjust it. As he turned, he tripped over his own foot and took a harsh fall to the ground. “SHIT!” The pain that he had been feeling in his back and arms increased tenfold. To make matters worse, the shower rod had fallen right on his face and onto his nose. It wasn’t broken, but it was bleeding heavily. “Damnit! (Y/N)!”

You had been sitting on the bed looking through a magazine detailing Elvis’ latest adventures. Your head perked up at the sound of a crash in the bathroom and a loud profanity from your lover. You hopped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom. “Elvis? Are you ok?”

The scene beneath in front of you made your stomach turn. Elvis was sitting in the tub now, the shower rod having fallen on him giving him a bloody nose. His arms and back seemed to have taken the most damage as it looked like it was already swelling.

“Elvis! What happened? Oh dear, you’re very hurt! Uhh… Don’t move, ok?” You handed him a warm rag to hold to his nose while you gathered some more items to help him.

He was compliant. He laid in the tub in pain while he watched his doting partner scramble about the bathroom. It really reminded him of his mom. This is why I love you he thought to himself.

“I think we need to take you to the hospital.” Elvis didn’t like the thought of paramedics entering his home while he was indecent. He also didn’t like the idea of having to travel down stairs, out of the house, into the car and put more pressure on his achy areas.

“Doll, I think it’s ok. I just need to get dressed and sleep it off with some pain killers.”

“But Elvis! What if you’re seriously hurt?”

“Satnin, it’s ok. I just took a tumble is all. Trust me, ok?”

For a second, you looked hesitant to believe him and considered going against his wishes but you didn’t want to stress him out further.

“Ok. What can I do now to help?”

Elvis had finally snapped back to reality and realized the gravity of the situation. He was sopping wet and naked with his legs spread in front of you.

“I suppose we can try and put my clothes on. I wouldn’t worry about drying me off. I just need to get out of here right now.”

You nodded obediently and began rummaging through the clothes on the vanity to look for something light he would wear. You dug a paid off dark grey pajama pants out from the pile and showed him. “Are these ok?”

He nodded back at you. You made your way over to him and helped him out then over his feet. You continued to pull them up until you hit his mid thigh.

While the pants were not form fitting, Elvis had but on a little bit of extra fat and muscle so it was making it impossible to pull them up.

“E? These pants aren’t fitting. Do you want another pair?”

“No, it’s ok. I can squeeze into them.”

You tugged at the waistband of the pants harder and harder trying to fit them over his legs. In the middle of this tug-o-war battle with you and the pants, you had caught a glimpse of his cock.

It was still wet and had some soap suds on it. He wasn’t erect but it still sat large and very thick in between his legs.

You grew up as a modest girl. You were polite to everyone you came across. Sure, you had a few boyfriends before Elvis but it never progressed further than light kisses and the occasional hand holding. To you, this seemed very intimate and you were flustered.

“I’m sorry. I know this is uncomfortable for you. But, I have to go over your.. you know.”

Elvis bit back a chuckle from your timidness in attempt to ease the tension. “It’s ok baby. You’re ok.”

You felt more grounded from his reassurance. You pull the pants up further until they’re over his thighs. The waistband catches him roughly. His dick was harshly pressed against his lower abdomen. It almost hurt more than his arms and back.

“(Y/N), baby. S-Stop real quick. You caught me.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion.

Caught him? You thought to yourself. It takes Elvis everything in him to to groan in frustration of the situation.

He contemplated his next choice of action before making a decision.

“Satnin. Listen very carefully. I need you to reach into my pants and push… Little Elvis to the left a little bit. That’s what I meant when I said that you caught me in the waistband. I’m real sorry Darlin’. “

The fire in your stomach somehow got hotter. You’ve never touched Elvis this way, much less, touched a man in general. This made you jumble up into a flurry of all different emotions. Shame, embarrassment, excitement, and… arousal?

You hesitated for a second before slowly sliding your hand down into his pants to readjust him. The palm of your hand grazes the tip of his cock by accident. He lets out a low and guttural groan.

You continue to readjust him into a more comfortable position. At the same time, his cock was beginning to grow hard and heavy. You felt bad about this. You wanted to retreat back to yourself and help in other ways. You look at him to apologize and he was no better. His eyes were shut tightly and his grip on the shower rod was so tight that he knuckles were turning white.

He was trying to stop himself from getting hard and making this more awkward but he was failing miserably. He wanted nothing more than for you to just jerk him off right then and there. He knew about your lack of knowledge in the sex department. He didn’t want to push his limits with you but this was something he couldn’t control.

“I’m so sorry Elvis. I know I didn’t want to make this awkward and i’m doing a terrible job. I’m not hurting you, am I ?”

“N-no. Not at all. It feels good. Really good. You could… keep going? Maybe I would feel a bit better.”

You nod nervously. It wasn’t that you were scared and didn’t want to do it! You were just inexperienced. You didn’t have to first clue on how to please a man and you didn’t want to disappoint Elvis.

You turned your body so you were more facing him. You have him a shy smile and began to pump his cock again.

“God, Satnin. You sure know how to use those hands. Yeah, just like that” He he weakly moved his arms so that his hands were on yours. He slowly pumped your hands up and down the length of his cock applying little bits of pressure when needed.

You could feel your core producing a wetness that pooled in between your legs. You moaned a little from the friction.

“Elvis? If I help you up, can we go back to the bed?”

He smiled softly at you and nodded. “Just don’t kill me, doll.”

You rose from your spot on the floor and dusted of your butt. You stood over the tub where he sat and gripped his outstretched hands. You pulled him up, albeit not easily, and walked him gently over to the bed. You placed a pillow in the middle of the bed and urged him to lay back on it.

“Are you ok? Do you need anything else?”

“I’m ok angel. Are you?”

You smiled and held his head in your hands. You bent over and gave him many small kisses all over his face.

Your kisses grew more passionate every time. Soon, those little kisses turned into a war. Who’s tongue could take over the other ones? Even in a not physically good condition, Elvis still had the upper hand.

He kissed you like it was your last one ever. He gripped that back of your head tightly and didn’t let got. His other hand rubbed it’s way down your face, to your neck, to your collarbone, to your breasts. He squeezed one in his big palm and massaged it.

You moaned quietly into the kiss before pushing youself off of him. “We came in here for you! I want to please you.”

You slithered your way down his body until your eyes and mouth were face-to-face with his hard cock. It looked much prettier like this. It stood tall and thick. The tip was a pretty pink and precum was dripping down and onto his balls. Speaking of which, his balls sat heavy on the blankets. They had a satisfying weight in your hands. For a few minutes, you took a closer look at every individual hair, vein, and part of his pelvis until you were satisfied.

You brought your hands to his cock again and began a slow pumping rhythm. Deep sighs and occasionally sharp inhales could be heard from Elvis. His arms lay dormant at his sides and he had his neck and head arched off the bed and looking at the ceiling.

You increased your speed and friction in an attempt to create a stronger reaction. As expected, he was groaning much more loud and whimpering your name here and there. You moved one hand off his cock and down to his balls where you pulled and tugged them.

“Fuck. Baby, spit on it. Get it nice and sloppy”

You obliged. You gathered a little bit of spit and released it onto his cock. You so spread it up and down the length of his cock. It looked even prettier than how it started. Not only was it pretty and big, it was practically glowing in the light.

You jerked him off faster. This resulted in a flurry of swears being released from him.

“Fuck! Just like that. God you’re p-perfect (Y/N).”

You kept doing until he jerked his hips up into the air. His cum shot out the top and coated you in it. Even through his orgasm, you kept the same pace. He spurted all over you. Long ropes of his thick cum coated your hair and face. He let out a loud groan from the bottom of his throat and lied back on the bed breathing heavily.

“You’re so good Satnin. So perfect and good for me.”

You moved so you were laying at his side. You kissed him deeply. “I love you so much Elvis. I’m so glad you were patient with me.”

He smiled sweetly at you. “Absolutely. However, you might want to get cleaned up before you fall asleep here. I’ll be waiting.”

You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips playfully and stood up.

“Fine. I’ll be sure to clean up the mess YOU made though.”

You both laughed at your childish remark before he looked at you with serious eyes.

“Just so you know, when I’m feeling better, I’m gonna repay you real nice. Nice and rough.”

#50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x reader smut #elvis x reader #elvis x reader smut #x reader #reader insert #x reader smut #reader insert smut #satninroses

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padfootdaredmetoo · 2 years

Note

Hello! I saw you opened requests... May I ask for a female character x Tommy Shelby?

Here's the plot: the protagonist wants to kill him cause he's responsible of her brother's death. She knows he's vulnerable due to Grace's death and she gets close to him taking advantage on his need to have someone beside. A night of love is the perfect moment in which she can carry out her plan, having him alone, disarmed and off guard.. (So NSFW is perfectly ok 😝)

Whether she ends up killing him or not is up to you 🍷 surprise me ✨

I'd just like to have the female protagonist on the "dominant" part. Like... In the show Tom is always the one who wants everything under his supreme control and many fics depict him as such ... Well, he gives me totally opposite vibes, if you know what I mean 😂

That's all ✨ I'm looking forward to reading this! ❤

This was a super fun request!!!! I hope I got what you mean..... I tried really hard. Honestly kind of a slut for sub Tommy. Never thought about it before- but - I might be in love.

Any way because I'm such a softy I made two ending options.... I'll let you all decide which one I was more into ;)

Warnings: dealing with loss, murder, gang type stuff, seduction with bad intentions, sex, oral sex fem receiving, orgasms, kinda kinky, hopefully hot

Eventually the moment he was dreading was clear in view. The large house came into sight making his stomach turn violently. As if sensing it Charlie started to kick up a fuss. His little cries for his mother doing nothing to settle the pain in his chest.

Grace was dead. This house was horrible. Charlie seemed to loudly agree in his own way. So why did he come back?

Appearances mostly. He needed to get his feet back on the ground and settle the situation. The Russians had a tight rope around his neck, if only they would pull a little tighter. The Italians were waiting in the shadows like hungry wolves.

Charlie’s pudgy little hand tugged on the white collar of his shirt making him hate himself for thinking such things.

He got Charlie settled back into the house, envious of the sleeping child next to him. He had no idea when the next time he would be able to rest.

There was a lot of work to be done.

______

Readers POV

Growing up in a mob family was not what most people expected. Your brothers carried an unhealthy amount of pressure, while you were completely ignored.

The Shelby - Italian feud had carefully made its way to your family. Your youngest brother was to prove himself to the family & organization by killing the ever annoying Thomas Shelby. Not a simple task by any means.

You wished it was you that pulled the trigger, you wouldn't have missed. The aftermath of Grace Shelby’s body crumpling to the floor left you with two dead brothers, and an engagement to a man you hated. They fought hard to get out but it was no use. He went for a grand shooting in the middle of the room, your other brother's attempt to get him out was useless. Your stomach twisted as you knew taking a shot like that was a suicide attempt… Maybe this was his way out of the family business. Tears stung your eyes and you shook your head, surely he wouldn't have left the consequences on his siblings?

You felt trapped by this grief, maddened by it. The way everyone reacted, especially your father, started a mass unraveling of your whole life. You became buried under harsh realizations and questions on how you were raised. Everything started to evaporate once they were dead, leaving you with a drive to fix the unfixable. You knew that there was no way out of your life's path, yet your mind was determined, spinning in blood lust.

You laid in bed as the cool summer air caressed your skin. Mind engulfed by every bit of information you had collected about what had happened. The cocky smiles of their faces the last time you saw them slowly fading, replaced by the heavier, more traumatizing memory of their broken bodies being returned to your family.

The rest of the crime families your father associated with thought it pathetic, and embarrassing. Out of shame or fear from the Shelby family, people started to try and back away from your father. This meant you were requested to marry into the Changretta family. You were given the task to clear the family name, strengthen bonds, bring the business back, all well someone else got to destroy Thomas Shelby….

A plan had started to form in the absence of sleep. They were your brothers, it was your family given the task, naturally it should be you to complete the task. If you could kill Thomas your family's reputation would be restored earning you enough praise to slip out of the unwanted marriage. Not to mention they would surely benefit from the division of the Shelby estate.

You drape yourself in black fabric and sit in church everyday. Asking for forgiveness, asking for a direction forward. More than revenge, you wanted a way to escape all this life. Killing Thomas just seemed like the best way forward. Looking at the statue of Mother Mary in front of you, her eyes filled with something you’d never felt. You wanted her to tell you what to do.

No clouds in the sky broke, sending a beam of light into the room. No one descended from the sky. No messages fluttering from the grand ceiling.

Instead a group of girls sat in the back of the church attempting to speak in hushed whispers. You were annoyed at first, until you recognised one of the voices to be Ruth Berryman, a known friend of Ada Shelby. You listened as she described the family's peculiar way of grieving the loss of Grace. How Thomas had disappeared and would be returning to the public eye in a charity event hosted at his house. She went on to speculate that he’d hidden himself away to drown in women and opium.

You didn't have any opium, but you were remarkably pretty when you wanted to be… All you needed to do was dress up and sneak in, then get Thomas alone.

A silence fell over the space as Elizabeth Gray made an entrance. You pulled your scarf around your head a little tighter as you watched her slender frame fall into a seat. She looked exhausted, you felt a strange sense of sadness for her. The image of your brothers flashing in your mind pushed that feeling down until it was unreachable.

___________________

Your parents were more distant than ever, no one noticed you plotting away in your bedroom. As long as you were on top of your wedding planning no one paid you any notice. The loneliness started to seep into your bones again, making you feel weighed down. You poured another cup of coffee trying to shake the feeling off. Everyone would see you clearly once this was over…

The night of the event had come around. You had an entrance secured and a clear exit plan.

You looked over your body in the gold framed mirror. The fabric rested heavily on your curves. You would never normally wear anything like this, and you couldn't escape the powerful feeling it gave you. Your body was displayed in a way that was elegant while also being undeniably sexy. You pinned your dark hair up and did your make up.

You’d never seduced anyone before but looking over your final look you felt it shouldn't be too hard.

You pulled up to the large house, leaving your car down by the road. You were late enough that no cars were pulling up the drive to notice your descent on the house. Your long black wool coat covered you from chin to ankle, making you look a part of the woven night.

You made your entrance under a fake name and joined the mess without anyone thinking twice about you.

_________________________

Tommy POV

He wished that this event had been unnecessary. The effort it took to stand about moving from conversation to conversation was almost unbearable. His bones were on fire, head pounding, all he could do was pour more whiskey and hoped it would take the edge off. The night dragged on, until a woman caught his eye.

She was tall, wrapped in a tight red dress, and had a look in her eye. The room seemed to be swallowed by her presence, the light bending to wrap around her. Her dark eyes held a gaze that made it hard to breathe. She walked over to him like this was her house, tall and proud, despite not being invited.

“Mr. Shelby.” Her voice floated around him like smoke. She looked content as he held the silence between them, searching her eyes for what secrets they were holding.

“I don’t believe we’ve met?”

“Y/N L/N” She held her hand out to him. He knew she was lying but he couldn't help but the wave of desire that crashed over him and holding her slender fingers in his hand.

They chatted for a while, no mention of Grace, or work. He met everyone of her lies and questions with honesty. He watched as his answers spun around in her eyes, she seemed conflicted, but not surprised. He wanted to impress her, but she was unmovable, like stone. She conducted the conversation, and decided which of his answers she wanted to elaborate on.

Things started to wind down, and he regretfully had to remove himself from her presence to wrap the evening up. She showed no interest in leaving, pouring herself another glass of whiskey.

Polly set in on him about how stupid this was, but he shrugged it off. He knew that there was something this woman wanted to say to him, he was determined to figure it out. Everything about her was weighted heavily with significance. She was here for a reason, maybe because of the Russians, maybe the Italians, but he felt it was something above business. She had nothing vicious in her eyes, there was something she wanted desperately, but it wasn't violence.

___________________________

Readers POV

Thomas Shelby was an interesting man. He didn't try to step on your toes, he let you lead the conversation. Never mocking, always hanging on your words. His answers were not what you expected. He wasn't what you expected. Every time you touched him you felt something bigger than grief for the first time in so long.

Eventually he took you into his study to wait while he wished his guests well. You listened as his family loudly made their way upstairs. Stumbling and laughing on the stairs. Elizabeth Gray’s voice carried into the office as she laughed and poked fun at another Shelby woman.

You thought about snooping around his desk but you were stopped by the picture of a woman staring back at you.

His wife's eyes found the words in the back of your head and twisted them painfully. She was dead, and the sadness in him was still very visible to someone who was grieving just the same. Dead at the hands of your brother. He flashed before you and you started to feel sick.

It was either this or be married. Unfortunately your mind was already set.

Thomas entered the room slowly, his eyes dragging over your lounging body. The couch was comfortable and the fire light only made everything seem more warm and intimate.

“Sit with me?” It was meant to be a question but it came out more like an order. He looked at you for a moment before sitting next to you. He was so close you could feel the cold air still attached to his suit jacket.

You didn’t want to talk anymore. It would only make this harder for you in the long run. You needed to get him out of his jacket, make sure he didn't have any weapons still on him.

You raised your hand to brush your fingertips along the short hair on the side of his head. He closed his eyes, and leaned into your touch, your heart gave a twinge as the fire light only made him look more tired.

You were going to fuck up if you kept this up. You dragged your hand down and tugged on his jacket, he wordlessly removed it.

“And the vest” You whispered, there was something in his eyes that made you hate yourself. A wetness started to pool between your legs, even your own body was betraying you.

You pulled your skirt up your thighs and moved to straddle his lap. His hands went to your hips to help settle you into place. You felt the power of sitting here on his lap, his eyes heavy as he looked at you.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You asked in a smoky tone. His eyes flashed in a way that made you feel like gravity had increased. You were falling into him more and more.

“Yes” His tone was breathy and you wished things were different as you studied him. He was so willing to let you take charge. You liked being seen.

He waited patiently for your mouth to reach his, he let your lips take charge, and you deepened the kiss slowly. He was breathless, cheeks flushed, his hands were digging into your hips painfully. You loved the way he clung to your body, how badly he needed you to take his pain away.

Your hand wrapped around the side of his neck causing him to moan. You pushed his head back to rest on the top of the couch exposing the length of his pale throat. You went in for a deeper kiss, holding his neck firmly in place you—----

Option one:

Take your other hand up to your chest and pull the small knife from between your breasts. Quickly you drag it across the skin of his neck. He gasped into your mouth as the blood started to rush down his body. You looked into his eyes and admired the love you felt.

“Thank you” He whispered softly. You held his body while he left this earth for something better. He slipped away so peacefully you knew that it must have been more of a favor to him than anything.

The house was quiet and you made your way to the window behind the desk and slipped away into the night peacefully. Things went back to usual in your family so you decided it was in your best interest to move on. The war got worse, Tommy's brothers took over and his Aunt was determined to destroy your family. You had the money, so you ran away, unnoticed, placing as much distance between you and Birmingham as possible.

Option Two:

You stopped suddenly. Looking over his face.

“Tell me what it is.” He whispered, pupils blown out. You knew that it would be suicide to tell him the truth. Death seemed like a friend you would greet with open arms. Your vision was filled with the photo on his desk, his wife. His dead wife. The smaller photos of a little boy. Eyes bright, motherless. You pressed your head against his and took a shaky breath.

“My brother - I - I came here to kill you.” You watched how his face didn't change. Stayed just as relaxed and calm.

“What have you decided then?” He asked like he was asking if it was raining. You knew a part of him wishes you would go through with it, just like there was a part of you that would be more than happy to die at his hand.

“I can’t do it.” You said feeling a weight lift off of you.

“Why not?” His eyes were back in focus now searching you.

“You feel different -” You couldn't explain it. He was different and it was intoxicating. “And you have a kid upstairs.” You shook your head. You would either die right here, or you would go home to die everyday beside your husband. Either way you’d finally made your choice.

His big hands ran along your body and you could see him weighing his options carefully.

“Be a shame if either of us died without fucking first eh?”

You nodded at his crude words and your mouths met again instantly.

You both fought for control at first, ripping each other's clothes off, hands groping frantically. You ended up falling off the couch landing flat on your back. The texture of the carpet was surprisingly soft and the heat from the fire kept you comfortable. He parted your legs, leaning down towards you. You gripped a handful of the longer hair at the top of his head and used all your strength to push his head where you wanted it. He let out a deep moan as you pressed his face into your hot flesh. He submitted entirely and ate you out like he was starved. Tongue caressing you coupled with the sharp suction created by his mouth had you writhing.

“Ah yes. So good. Fuck -Tom” Your words came spiraling out of you as he worked you over. His eyes flashed up at you with a different kind of need. He wanted to make you happy, he wanted to know it made you happy.

You were getting close, but you wanted to cum around him. You pushed his face off and he got up on his knees, heavy cock standing proudly. You wrapped your slender finger around him, the walls off your pussy fluttering at the size of him. God he was going to destroy you. You could see he was about to lose his patience with your hand, you were naked and strung out. It was his time to take charge.

“Are you ready?” You asked him, tightening your grip on him, you wanted to push him further.

“Yes” He moved toward you but you only squeezed him further causing him to moan.

“See if I’m ready” You whispered into his ear like it was a dirty secret. You felt his fingers push into you slowly and his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. You let out a moan when his fingers rubbed against the spot you needed him the most.

“Feels so good, so good at stretching me open” You whisper, feeling his jaw clench against your neck. You wanted to see his face but wouldn't push him. You had no idea what you were doing or why it felt this good.

“Feel how wet you made me?” He let out a deep groan and you felt his cock twitch in your hand.

“You think I'm wet enough?”

“Yes” He answered out of breath.

“Are you sure? You're so big”

“Fuck - Yes” He was so far gone and you’d barley touched him. You were fairly confident that you could make him cum just like this, and it would still be the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.

“You want to fuck me now?” You pulled his cock against your wet folds causing him to make a small strangled noise.

You took that as the answer it was, lining the head of his cock up with your wet entrance you guided his hips forward. You expected him to take over, rip through you to find his release, take his revenge. Instead he followed the wordless directions of the hand you had placed on his hip. This time it was your turn to groan. He stretched you out so slowly, soon you were at your limit. Taking all of him was a beautiful and painful task. Guiding him to pull out and slowly move back in pleasure won over the pain and your hips moved to meet his shallow thrust.

“God, you fill me so well” You felt his body melt under the praise. You guided his hips in and out of you slowly feeling yourself slip away. The pace got quicker gradually and eventually he was fucking you with a stregth that ruined you for anyone else.

There was only so much you could take before you demanded he touch you. His thumb circled your clit, his body pushing you somewhere it hadn't been before.

“Please, dont stop - Tom - Ah - youre going to make me cum - fuck baby make me cum” Words spiraled out of your moth and he drank each one of them down. Fucking you harder, he took you over the edge, your body swallowing him. Walls rhythmically contracting pull him over the edge spilling inside you. He rode both of the orgasms out before collapsing on you. Your arms held him tightly, not wanting him or the feeling inside you to go.

He broke your hold and held himself above you. His hand came up to caress the side of your neck and you took one last look of his blue eyes before closing your own. You tilted your chin up exposing his neck. You waited for his other hand to embrace your neck, for him to take your life.

“Promise you won’t bring harm to me or my family.”

Your eyes flew open and met his gaze. “I promise” He gave you a nod then pulled out of you slowly. His mouth moved to suck a deep mark into your throat before he pushed himself back inside you. After pulling another orgasm from you he cleaned the both of you up.

“What are your plans for next friday?” He asked as you both sat on the floor in front of the couch. You were sipping whiskey and smoking cigarettes unsure of what to make of the situation that just happened.

“I’m supposed to be getting married.”

“For business or love?”

“Business, my brothers couldn't kill you and that led to a lot of problems.”

His face twisted briefly remembering the problems it caused him as well. He was quiet and you felt yourself yearning to apologize.

“We both lost a lot because of this. I don't even know who started all of it but I’d like to end it. Leave all of it, everyone and thing behind if I could” He studied you carefully before lighting another cigarette.

“How bout I make a counter offer then?” His words hit you like a truck. Surely he couldn't be serious.

“I’ll marry you. Take the territory that would have been handed down to your brothers. In return you can do what you like within reason and the fighting stops.”

You thought about it for a long moment. You thought about all the plans everyone was making, how much destruction was about to move into action.

“Can I do what I like to you?”You asked in a cheeky tone, desperate to stop thinking about everything. You watched his gaze get hungry.

“Most certainly”

“I won't share you. With anyone, ever” The words were out of your mouth before you realized what you said. He may not love you, this may be for business, but the thought of someone else touching him and having him like that caused your blood to boil.

“Somehow I don't think that will be a problem” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a ghostly smile.

You clink your glasses together and fell back into a comfortable silence, your head resting on his shoulder.

___

They did get married, it was a business deal that ended the feuding. (Saving John)

She freaks out about how to look after Charlie because her parents were so distant towards her growing up that she has no idea what to do. Polly and her bond over this. Charlie almost immediately gets attached to her. Eventually she proves herself to the rest of the family.

She takes good care of Tommy, giving him someone to trust. But she's very opinionated and they fight a lot. Its explosive and usually ends with them fucking against any surface. She just wants the family to be protected and doesn't like taking big risks. So they balance each other out a little. Tommy’s calm and she’s so tired of being calm that the first chance she gets to lay into someone she takes it.

The first time she had to kill someone it was to protect Charlie. She broke down after the situation because she almost did that to Tommy. Everything she had now - a family that loved her and respected her, a husband that paid attention / was kind to her, a little boy that called her mum and ran to her every time he was scared - She got all of that from Tommy - He has to hold her for hours before she calms down. That's when they realize that they really love each other.

Tags list: @tommydoesntpayforsuits @misselsbells06 @kpopgirlbtssvt

If anyone wants to be added to the list just let me know in my inbox!

#I hope this is good #Tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #Thomas Shelby #been trying to work on it for forever #thomas shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby smut #Peaky binders #peaky blinders imagine #Peaky blinders request #peaky blinders fanfic

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t-lostinworlds · 6 months

Text

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STATUS: OPEN

↳ hi! as some of you might know, i'm on my broke college girl era and i will need all the help i can get to pay for tuition and everything else. so i thought, why not give commissions a shot? so here i am!

if you're interested, then keep on reading!

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DM me on here! my messages are open to everyone so it should be easily accessible.

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DETAILS, INSTRUCTIONS, TERMS, and PRICES can be found HERE or on this tumblr page

STUFF I OFFER

WRITING

character x reader — open to doing a Character x OC but with an additional charge since it's going to take longer for me to familiarize the OC that you will provide.

second person POV by Default — open to doing a third person POV if that's something you prefer. I won't do First Person.

current characters I write for include: bucky barnes, miguel o'hara, steve harrington & peter parker

RATES WILL DEPEND ON LENGTH:

Blurbs (500-1000 words)

Short One-Shots (2,500-3,500 words)

Long One-Shots (5,000-10,000 plus words)

EXCLUSIVE WORKS | ONLY AVAILABLE ON MY KO-FI SHOP ↳ my writing that won't likely be posted...ever. so when i say exclusive, i really mean it.

Scene from a One-Shot

will include scenes from: a nathan drake one shot, revisiting is sweeter, a tom holland boxing AU, and a tom holland frat au

A Chapter from an Unfinished Series

chapters from my Tom Holland Mob/Mafia AU — there are only 7 parts in total that are fully completed. the rest are rought draft that i'm willing to share privately for free if anyone simply want to know what happens next.

GIFS & GRAPHICS

2-Set Gif — two (2) gifs of any scene/character(s) of your choosing

5-Set Gif — five (5) Gifs of any scene/character(s) of your choosing

Icon & Header Pack — one (1) icons + one (1) header for tumblr and/or other socials

Writing Graphics Package — one (1) gif header, three (3) dividers, and page breaks and banners

↳ again, more details can be found on the google doc or on my ko-fi pages that are linked below:

↳ if there are any further questions, please don’t hesitate to message me! thank you so much for your support! <3

↳ also, i just want to say that, i'm still going to be writing and posting for free on here when i do get the time. but as of now, i really need the extra income. BUT there's absolutely no pressure to commission whatsoever. even a simple reblog will do!

#bucky barnes x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #steve harrington x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #nathan drake x reader #t's commissions #writing commissions #fanfiction commissions #gif commissions

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popculturebuffet · 11 months

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Into the Spider-Verse: Spider-Ham (Marvel Tails #1 and Peter Porker, The Spectacular Spider-Ham #15) (Comissioned by WeirdKev15)

Hello all you happy webheads and welcome back to Into the Spider-Verse, my look at the origins of every webslinger from the landmark film in the build up to Across the Spider-Verse. And it's bittersweet to be this close to the end of the web here: i'm proud of myself for this project and kev for having cooked it up as it allowed me to really dig into my love of spider-man, and comics in general, with new ideas and even possible new retrospectives wholesale coming out of this.

But before we can end this ride, we still have one Spidey to cover, who after our previous spider-persons adventures with crackers and milk, their predecesors literal oppisite sex clone, mob goons without fear, rock n roll pop art halluciongens in your giant spider mecha, and giant spiders stripping you naked, one man comes along to say..

Yes it's time for the debut of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham a

And i'm sure many of you, both those familiar with the comics and those who just watched the movie, are asking the same question: why. The answer is simple. Way way back in the 1980's, Marvel had a new animated arm, Marvel Productions, which was a massive deal, producing both GI Joe and Transformers, which both started as comics first to promote the upcoming toylines, as well as Dungeons and Dragons, My LIttle Pony Tales, Muppet Babies, Jem and the Holograms, Kid N Play and the Biker Mice From Mars. There were also of course marvel cartoons like Spider-Man(the 80s one), Spider-Man and his Amazing Friends, The Incredible Hulk, the more popular Incredible Hulk and the infamous and destined to be covered Pryde of the X-Men Pilot.

So naturally Marvel wanted more ips to feed into the almighty merchandising machine, because shockingly, companies have ALWAYS wanted every dollar they can get out of making more and more adaptations as long s they can afford it. So two writers set to work to spitball this: They were Tom DeFalco, a longtime spider-man editor who would go on to write the guidebook I had as a kid that really got me into the comics and taught me a lot about his rogues gallery and more importantly would write the book himself briefly, being the one to crystalize Mary Jane's tragic Backstory and her knowing Peter Parker is spider-man all along. WIth him was the wonderful Larry Hama, at the time writing GI JOe for marvel.. and at the time of this writing STILL writing his continuation of that continuity for IDW as he should. Hama deserves all the credit for setting the foundations of the GI Joe universe most adaptations follows and for writing one hell of a comic in the process, and not one to rest on his laurels would later have the defining run on Wolverine's solo book.

So as you can imagine when these two legends get together.. they created a simple but enduringly weird joke that has lasted decades. It's a concept that just works: Spider-Man.. but he's a funny animal. Weirdly though Marvel Animation passed on it, not wanting anything to do with it despite the fact that in a time when Garfield was at the peak of his powers and they'd be making muppet babies, funny animals were a VERY easy sell. Seriously why Marvel Animation was so stupid is a riddle for the ages but Marvel liked printing money, so they put Porker in a one shot, Marvel Tails, parodying the marvel reprint mag marvel Tales. That said DeFalco didn't expect much from it and was suprised months later when the higher ups asked for another issue. He explained it was a one shot.. and then they asked when the next issue was and he got the memo. While DeFalco wrote the one shot that launched the character he freely admits he's not the one who made him a star. That honor goes to Steve Skeates. Skeates had been a mainstay in the industry, paticuarlly having a run on Aquaman i've been trying to read for some time that really launched the character to new heights before Superfriends would shove him back to the depths for a while. He was burnt out on the industry and freely admits he wouldn't of done the book for Larry Hama if it was any other book, but felt the format allowed him to do a throwback to the kinds of books he liked writing while still throwing in plenty of comedy to keep it fresh. The result was pretty great, with Skeates wisely having Porker's various foes not be the obvious joke of being the animals they resemble, for instance the Vulture being a possum in a buzzard suit instead of a vulture.

And we'll be seeing that contrast between Porker's humble one shot joke beginings and evolved more nuanced parody as unlike most of the characters featured... Porker didn't get his origin story for a while. While most of the spider-persons got there's in their very first appearance or arc, Porker's origin didn't come about till late in his solo books run. So today we'll be looking at both his first appearance in Marvel Tails, and his origin story in Peter Porker the Spectacular Spider-Ham #15 under the cut!

Spider-Ham begins his career in a typical spider-man setting: stopping a typical gang of thugs with ease and some quips. But it's not long before we get into one of the weird things about this story, something that just dosen't really work with it: Captain Americat. Cap is pictured here as Peter's steadfast partner and a reporter at his paper and none of this works. Now this is an AU, it COULD work and the idea of steve and peter being closer partners and steve mentoring him is great, just as the idea of Tony mentoring him was a brilliant one the movies captalized on. But here it's just treated as a normal thing without really being used for a joke that this is so unusual. A large part of this is something that's easy to forget as it hasn't been true about the character since the early 2000's. Spidey.. used to be a bit of a loner when it came to the rest of the Marvel Universe. Granted he was the kind of loaner who had an entire ongoing dedicated to him teaming up with other heroes and a tv show where he had two super college roomies he'd fight crime with, but when it came to consistant teamups his only real super friends were the fantastic four and in a few years Daredevil. Spider-Woman existed, but Jessica was largely her own thing by design, with only the name in common and wouldn't really become an ally or even friend of peter's till they were in the avengers together. Peter would have team ups but he really wasn't super close with the rest of the marvel universe. This changed in the early 2000's as his joining the new avengers gave him a lot of new allies in the marvel universe: He'd be on the new avengers until Brian Micheal Bendis left the book, he joined HIckman's avengers for the first arc, with Doc Ock taking his place, and joined the Mighty Avengers and Mark Waid's avengers afterwords, only in the last few years taking a break from the group entirely, ironically as his MCU counterpart became heavily associated with them himself. Not only that the dawn of the spider-verse and miles migrating to become the 616's second spider-man, meant peter soon had a spider-family.

Even now in his current tirefire of a solo i've been purposfully avoiding but suspect i'l lhave to confront some day, he has Ms Marvel, soon to be thrown in the fridge, Norman Osborn, long story, and his current girlfriend the black cat. Peter's no longer the solo operator he once was.. but back then it's very weird fo ra parody of the character to just.. casually hang out with Captain America regularly and this angle was wisely dropped.

This isn't the only weird thing in this issue either. For some reason rather than pulling from peter's many rogues, the issue has him face the Masked Marauder, some punk ripping off a super high tech arcade. It comes off more like a Scooby Doo Mystery complete with various red herings and the actual culprit showing up early on. He's not even the main threat as the everlovin hulk is also shoved into this issue. His origin is a little neat, with Bruce Bunny being an arcade game maker who gets shoved into a cabinet.

The result though just isn't that funny. Ther'es a good joke about steve stashing his shield in his coat

But otherwise i'ts just kinda.. there and didn't leave the best first impression back when I first read it. It's nicely drawn, but dosen't have much actually to say or any really satire of the character. It's clear they had the name but no idea what to do with it. THe backup is pretty funny though, the weird Goose Rider, take a while guess, who just.. spends it riding around, thinking about grabbing a burger, and dealing iwth shouty civlians and some random doofus called chainsaw. This satire.. actually works as from what I can tell Ghost Rider's early rogues gallery before his reinvention in the 90's wasn't all that impressive with few exceptions. It's more what I wanted. Thankfully when Peter got his title shot, things perked up and by the time we get to his origin... we get something delightful.

As you can tell both by the cover used for this review and from the title, this one's a parody of spider-man no more. Even if you haven't read the story (I've only read the iconic issue iwth the cover), you've doubtlessly seen it's cover, and the various homages to both that and the shot of peter throwing his costume in the trash and walking away, both by spider-heroes and the rest of the marvel. It helps that Sam Rami choose it as the backbone of Spider-Man 2 and ended up making an even BETTER version of the story in the process. Even Miles had his own version of it after his mom died and he blamed himself for it since the second ultimate venom was the reason she died. If you've read more recent comics and seen Rio alive and well that's because Miles befriended the Molocule Man, a very shy man with the power to control molocules... which shockingly for comics has been treated every bit as horrifyingly powerful as it should since his introduction, with MM's only real wekaness being his crippling neurosis. So when the universe died and was put back, Molocule brought her back as a thank you present. I had a point here.. ah yes.. I love the Molocule Man and feel he's a highly underated character. Oh that with the severe stress and sacrifice of being a spider-man, it's not a huge leap to have that moment of doubt. And it's an even shorter leap to take that moment and parody it and Peter's angst for all it's worth. We open with J Jonah Jackal hooking himself up to an idea machine while his three young wards, the junior newsboys watch. They are Jermiah Jackal, JJJ's snooty nephew, Bunson Bunny, our resident nerd who talks in big snetences and Upton Adam Stray, a combination of a black sterotype and

If your getting some deja vu from a rich magnate having three young sidekicks who both acompany him and try to steer away his worse instincts, one of whom is jonah's literal nephew.. GOOD. It means you have good taste and also get the bit. Spider-Ham has a bit of the old Scrooge McDuck stories in it's dna, simply adding spider-man and his rogues to the mix, and really JJJ is such a perfect fit for scrooge and Peter for Donald, that I can't blame both writers for dipping into this formula when it fits spider-man shockingly well now he's a pig.

This issue is written by steven Mellor, who took over the title later in his run, but like Skeates does a really fun job with it.

With Jonah having peter come to the clubhouse to view an idea he came up with that involves the kids

Peter deals with typical spider-man things. That is trying to get a date with his ex Betty Bat. It goes about usual for peter

Also as you might have noticed, hilariously, Peter Porker looks a LOT like John Mulaney, despite having been created only one year after John was born. I mean he's also a talking pig but the hair is distractingly like his future voice actors and I love it.

Baby P decides to handle this like a mature, rational young swine

Before bemoaning that he's still single.. what I like is that Mellor both really gets how Peter Parker Mopey Rants work, and milks it with everyone starring not sure what to do as peter ineternally rants and the janitor eventually asking him to leave as he's getting his tears on the floor. Peter then reflects back to his origin, the reason we're here. And even for a talking pig.. peter's origin is hilaroiusly bizzare. It's my kind of weird shenanigans. Okay so in this version Peter.. was a spider, which is clever enough.. but May was a mad scientest who befriended peter and showed him her new invention: a fission powered hairdryer. It made her radoactive, it wasn't good.. and well... I can't say what happens next and have most of you belivie it actually happened so here's photographic evdience.

This.. this is comedy gold, and clever as all hell. Just deciding to have may be radioactive nad bite peter. It's as nuts as it is brilliant and I love it. So we get the standard origin moments of Peter testing out his powers.. and we also get a nice gag out of him bending a pipe in the original amazing fantasy #15

Peter returns to find may basically the dodering old lady sterotype she was in earlier spider-man comics, and decides to look after her and not tell her the truth, as well as put his powers to use. Peter's genius in this version is also from the bite and thus Spider-Ham is born

After running into flash thompsons counterpart, who sadly isn't named flash beagle, we get jonah's meeting where he's dressed himself and the boys up in superhero outfits and ...

To become Black Beagle and his beagle brigadeers. Peter is dragged along for this and this.. is easily the weakest part of the issue. While the idea of Jonah becoming a hero himself is great and has been used well, here it's just kinda there and is mostly a setup for them to befriend "Andy Warthog" and see a bunch of celebrity pastiches. It's a boring page or two

Thankfully it picks up with a delightful parody of one of my faviorite spider-man rogue as the Hobgobbler crashes the party! God bless this pun. He kidnaps one of the celebrties and we get a ncie character moment. Despite how silly this character and his origin are... it's still neat to see the core of spider-man.. is still present.

No matter the universe, no matter who wears the mask... they can't turn down responsiblity. Try as he might.. Peter just can't let someone else get hurt if he can help it and that's what makes spider-man the hero we love so much: that drive to help people no matter what it takes. It's what makes a spider-person what they are wethere they be man, woman, ham or nb.

So Peter naturally wins, in a nicely drawn fight, cooks the turkey and drive sJonah home. He WANTS to just get some deserved sleep but Aunt May has other plans.. thankfully said plans give our hero his much deserved happy ending. Action is already his reward.

As you can probably figure, this issue is a massive improvment and it's clear even with two diffrent writers, the full ongoing got the concept better and more importantly had more fun with it. The result.. is fucking great. Also the puns. Dear lord the puns. And that's not getting into the backup which has the scavengers fight kangaroo the conquerer. Who damn well better be among the council of kangs. At any rate this issue was greatr and even with the brief slowdown, is a great issue, not only getting me reintrested in this run, but also showing off just what you can do with a parody: have it be both heartfelt and clearly get what it's making fun of while still being great.

Next Time: The web ends as we look at the movie itself. Anyone can wear the mask but is one Miles Morales up to the task? Can he fill peter's shoes? Well yeah, I mean there's even a sequel, but it's still one hell of a ride.

#spider-man #peter porker #spider-ham #mary jane waterbuffalo #john mulaney #into the spider-verse #across the spider-verse

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 21 days

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By: Tom Slater

Published: Mar 30, 2024

‘Forte non Ignave’, ‘Bravely not cowardly’, is the motto of Batley Grammar, a free school in West Yorkshire, founded in 1612. How grimly ironic, then, that three years ago, it became the site of one of the most craven capitulations to religious bigotry Britain has seen since the Satanic Verses controversy.

On Monday 22 March 2021, a religious-studies teacher at Batley Grammar showed his pupils cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad, as part of a lesson on blasphemy. The cartoons were from Charlie Hebdo, the satirical French magazine whose staff paid the ultimate price for their supposed blasphemy in 2015, when two al-Qaeda gunmen showed up at their offices.

The cartoons had been on the syllabus for at least two years, and no one had batted an eyelid. Up to that point, Batley Grammar – a secular state school – had no reason to suspect it should have to respect Islamic blasphemy codes, especially when teaching about religion, free speech and blasphemy. It was in for a rude awakening.

‘The lesson descended into chaos as pupils took out their phones and attempted to film the teacher’, according to one report. The teacher, according to another, had a heated phone call with the father of one Muslim pupil. Then things spun out of control. Word got out online. Protesters – a mix of parents and activists from Leeds, Rochdale and beyond – pitched up outside the school gates, shutting down the school for a number of days.

All the while, the teacher was menaced by death threats. A local Islamic charity, Purpose of Life, published a statement, outing the teacher and comparing his indiscretion – bizarrely – to the brutalisation of Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar. A group called Muslim Action Forum also published his name, alongside more lurid libels, accusing the teacher of ‘inciting hatred’ and accusing his supporters of ‘blind hatred of the Muslim community’. These groups were, in effect, putting a target on the back of a man they had likely never met. Young men were spotted knocking at the door and trying the handle of the teacher’s house, where he lived with his wife and their children.

The bigoted caricature bore no relationship to reality, of course. According to the teacher’s Muslim neighbour, his was a nice family, who bought cards and sweets for the Muslim kids in the neighbourhood during Eid. Even so, no one should be expected to go through what this teacher went through – facing all the violent intolerance and hysteria of a medieval village, only spread far and wide by social media. He spoke to Dame Sara Khan, for her new report on modern-day mob censorship, which was published by the UK government this week. His treatment, Khan writes, left the teacher feeling suicidal.

He feared for his life, and with good reason. Five months before that fateful religious-studies class in West Yorkshire, French teacher Samuel Paty was beheaded in a Paris suburb by an Islamic extremist. Paty’s ‘crime’ was almost identical: showing Charlie Hebdo cartoons to his pupils in a lesson on freedom of expression. Adil Shahzad, an imam from Bradford who shot straight to Batley to lead the protests, warned darkly at the time that Britain risked ‘becoming like France’. Shahzad insisted Muslims should make their feelings known in the ‘democratic way’. But it turns out he has a history of praising murderous anti-blasphemy groups in Pakistan.

Where Britain after Batley certainly differed from France after Paty was in the reaction. Thousands took to the streets in France, in solidarity with the slain teacher and in support of free expression. The murder inspired President Emmanuel Macron to mount a personal crusade against Islamist extremism. In Britain, there was just capitulation. The school suspended the teacher and penned a grovelling apology. For some reason, a West Yorkshire Police officer was enlisted to read it out to the protesters. All this was welcomed heartily by Labour’s Tracy Brabin, then MP for Batley and Spen. She said she was ‘pleased that the school has recognised it was inappropriate and apologised’. After an investigation, the teacher was cleared of any personal wrongdoing, but the cartoons were removed from the syllabus. The mob won. And the teacher is still in hiding.

None of this has calmed tensions, of course. It has only emboldened the hardliners. Capitulation always does. There’s been a string of similar blasphemy scandals since. In 2022, Sunni Muslim protesters managed to get Cineworld to pull screenings of The Lady of Heaven, a Shia-made film they deemed to be blasphemous. In 2023, another school, less than 10 miles from Batley Grammar, this time in Wakefield, found itself in the zealots’ crosshairs, after a schoolboy brought a Koran to school and accidentally scuffed it. He too was bombarded with death threats. In the end, the police took no action against those trying to intimidate a child. A child who also happened to be autistic. But they did record a ‘non-crime hate incident’ against him.

A hardworking teacher forever looking over his shoulder. Shias censored at the behest of sectarians. A schoolboy threatened with death and arson. This is the cost of our cowardice, of our institutions’ inability to make clear that no one can expect to have their views forcefielded from criticism and that a free society cannot tolerate violence and threats in response to mere speech, words, cartoons. Blasphemy trials are back – only they are conducted by the mob, rather than a court. We’ve sent out a signal – loud and clear – that threats and violence and intimidation work.

And we’ve done so due to some genuinely bigoted assumptions about British Muslims. The first is that they are incapable of being citizens of liberal democracies – that, unlike any other religious group, they should expect to have their heretics burned, or at least punished. The second misconception is that the screeching rent-a-mobs that now show up whenever a ‘blasphemy’ scandal erupts are the authentic voice of British Muslims. They’re not. In fact, British Muslims and ex-Muslims are often on the sharp end of anti-blasphemy intolerance. In 2016, Glasgow’s Asad Shah and Rochdale’s Jalal Uddin both lost their lives, within weeks of each other, for their respective ‘blasphemies’. Hatun Tash, an ex-Muslim turned Christian preacher, has been stabbed and been the target of a terror plot for railing against her former faith. Thankfully, she’s still alive.

Three years on from Batley Grammar, we need to fight for the right to blaspheme all over again, before any more Brits – Muslim, non-Muslim or ex-Muslim – pay the price for our cowardice.

Said it before and I'll say it again: start revoking citizenship and deporting those who make these threats. They're trying to make our liberal societies into their Islamic hellholes.

#Tom Slater #Batley Grammar #blasphemy #censorship #blasphemy laws #islam #islamic violence #religion of peace #religion #islamic supremacy #cowardice #islamophobia #religion is a mental illness

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