#tom bennet smut

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

After the War

The night before Tom is sent back to his ship, he spends one last night with his best girl and makes plans for what they'll do when the war is over.

Pairing: Tom Bennett x Reader (2nd person)

Warnings: kissing, fingering, Tom being a lil nasty but it's ok he's hot

This work is a part of my 12 Days of Smuff event! Read the rest here.

My Masterlist

After the War

Prompt: Dreams & Dirty Talk

Tom’s navy uniform had long been discarded on the floor beside the bed; no doubt it would be hopelessly wrinkled when he boarded his train the next day. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that at all.

Not when Tom was getting on a train tomorrow, one that would take him to war.

You hated him for getting arrested. You hated him for agreeing to join up to get out of jail. You hated him for going back on his promise to register as a conscientious objector. And you hated him most of all for having the gall to be excited about leaving.

“So, since I won’t need to use my wages on the ship, it’ll be sent back here to Dad. And Lois too, I guess.” Tom quirked his brows and took another puff of his cigarette – his fourth of the night so far – and idly played with your hair as your hair while you rested your head against his chest.

He’d been talking nonstop since he rolled off of you after your last round of lovemaking.

No, it wasn’t lovemaking. It was fucking. Frantic, desperate fucking in lieu of actually talking about what would happen tomorrow, or the next day, or even the next year.

“I told him he could use it if he needed it, but that I want to come home to at least a bit of a stash, you know?”

‘Come home.’

That is what broke you—those two little, uncertain words. There was every possibility that Tom wouldn’t come home, and this last night would be all you had.

You started crying, suddenly and fiercely, burying your face in the smattering of hair on his chest.

Tom instantly sat up, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you against him. “Hey, hey. None of that, love. Tonight’s a happy night, yeah?”

“It’s not!” you insisted through your tears. “It’s not happy at all, Tom!”

He tilted and shook his head in a way you knew meant he was about to argue with you, so you continued before he could. “You’re leaving tomorrow – to go to war! You aren’t going on a fucking holiday! You’ll be on a battleship, not a river cruise!”

“Love, I…”

“No,” you pled, burying yourself in his shoulder. “Don’t make promises we both know you won’t keep. Don’t give me that hope.”

Tom scoffed, “You want me to tell you I’m gonna die?”

You grabbed one of his nipples between your fingers and pinched. Hard.

“Fuckin’ hell, woman!” Tom shouted, gripping your wrist tightly and yanking your hand off his nipple. “I was joking!”

“Don’t joke then!” You were sure your face was red as you yelled at him.

He slapped a hand over your mouth and lowered his voice. “Your mum is gonna hear us if you don’t quiet down, love. I don’t want my last night here to be spent being chased down the street naked by your fuming mum.”

You moved to tear his hand away, but when you met his eyes, you saw that there was fear there. And sadness, longing, grief. He was just as terrified as you. More, even.

When he felt you relax, he removed his hand. “Now,” his voice had become gentle, if a little strained, “are you going to yell at me again? Or try to rip my nipple off?”

You shook your head.

“Good.” He pulled you into him again, and you let him. He held you with your back toward him, one of his large hands splayed on your stomach and the other stroking your hair. “Then… what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.” You leaned into his chest, resting your head against his shoulder. He did nothing to egg you on, only held you close as you thought. “Tell me about the future,” you finally said. “About our future.”

“Alright,” he took a deep breath before he began narrating. You may or may not have prayed to God to grant him the gift of prophecy.

“Well… tomorrow, I’m gonna climb down outta that window there,” he pointed to your bedroom window, “and I’m gonna run down the street and climb up into my own window. I’ll have breakfast with Lois and my dad. Then we’ll all go to the train station, and you’ll meet us there – no sailor can leave home without a goodbye kiss from his best girl.”

You blushed at that, then blushed further when he tweaked your nose.

“I’ll go to training. Obviously, they’ll recognize my amazing natural talents and promote me right off.” You made a snarky comment about his overwhelming humility that he quickly silenced by tickling you. “I think I’ll get a few days leave between training and shipping out, so I’ll come back here.”

The joking grin mostly faded from his face, his eyes focusing on your face as his voice lowered. “I’ll use my wages from training to buy a nice ring, or, as nice as I can afford. I’ll have you wear your best dress and take you to the Palais for a night of dancing. Then, I’ll take you to the register office and marry you.”

Your breath vanished from your lungs. “But, there’s a waiting period…”

“Nah,” he said all too quickly. He’d been thinking about this, you realized. Planning it. “They’re waving that for all the boys going to fight. And this way, you’ll get the marriage allowance. And the widow’s pension, if…”

Tears threatened to come to your eyes again, and Tom barreled on. “I expect a good amount of that allowance to go to buying yourself some lovely lingerie to entertain me whenever I get leave.”

“You’re disgusting,” you half-heartedly teased.

Tom began moving the hand he had on your stomach lower, drawing random circles and loops and other shapes you couldn’t identify. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it. Besides, I need something to motivate me to live, don’t I?”

Any protest you had to his dark humor died when his long fingers traveled lower, teasing you just enough to take your breath away. And to prove him right.

“Well, look what I found…” he whispered huskily in your ear. “A wanton young woman who loves it when her man is ‘disgusting?’ Lucky for you, I like my best gal a little loose.”

You moaned in both offense and pleasure as his thumb started rubbing soft circles on your pearl, and his middle finger began just barely dipping in and out of your entrance. Not enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

“I’m going to write you letters every day when I’m at sea,” he promised. “Each day, I’ll give you new instructions. New little ways you can entertain me even when I’m half a world away.”

“Like what?” you managed to ask as his finger finally began to go deeper, but achingly slowly.

“Mmm… one day, I may ask you to do something as tame as leaving your panties at home. But when I’m really missing you, I’ll want you to be the biggest slut in Manchester. A faithful slut, mind you, but still.”

Something about his words, mixed with the way he began stroking that glorious rough patch inside you drove you absolutely wild. Seeking more speed, you began bucking your hips against his hand. But he only rested his other on your hips to keep you still.

“Maybe I’ll ask you to touch yourself in a particular way, and then tell me how much you liked it. Or maybe I’ll have you touch yourself somewhere new. Say, the Palais? Or your parents' kitchen table?”

You whimpered. This shouldn’t be as arousing as it was, you knew. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that these wicked things would be the only way you could get close to fucking him whenever he was away.

“I may even have you take some pictures to send in your letters. Didn’t you say your uncle offered you a job at his photography studio? Yeah, I think you need to take him up on that one.”

His musings seemed to fade as he moved his fingers faster, even slipping another into you. He no longer wanted just to tease you, but to satisfy you. “I’ll be desperate, love. Stuck in a tin can with a bunch of other blokes. And I know I can’t last with just the pin-ups. None of them come close to you.

“Will you do it for me? Will you buy the sluttiest lingerie you can find? Touch yourself for me? Whenever and wherever I want you to? Send my pictures like you’re no better than the whores who mail their photos for a couple pennies?”

You arched your back, feeling his words speed your climax along. “Yes, Tom. All of it. I’ll do anything for you.”

He leaned down and planted a sloppy kiss on your lips, swallowing your screams as he brought you to the edge, never stilling his fingers until you begged him to. “That’s my girl.”

You turned toward him, having felt his cock hard against your back. But he did not let you. He held you in place, not even griding into you.

“Not yet, greedy thing. I haven’t finished my story yet.” You fought him a little, but ended up lying back when he refused to relent. “Now, where was I?”

“I was being the most faithful slut in Manchester.”

“Oh yes, I love that part. But after that, once we defeat the Jerries and good triumphs, I’ll come home to you. We’ll both have saved enough to buy our own place, or at least rent a decent flat. And…”

Tom probably talked for hours until he fell asleep. You wondered if he ever took care of his erection. But you weren’t sure.

Not long after he started telling the rest of the story, you’d fallen asleep. Some part of you must have kept listening, though. Your dreams were full of visions of the life you and Tom would have.

A tearful reunion when he came home for good. Kissing at the train station so long that everyone else would leave and only you two would remain.

Him carrying you into your new home. Somehow, he’d managed to snag a gorgeous flat in the heart of the city, with grand windows that gave you a magnificent view of the sunset.

He’d find some job he loved (even in your dreams, you couldn’t imagine what job that would be) and make enough that you’d never have to worry about money again. Maybe you could even help your parents out.

Eventually, you’d have children. And since it was a dream, childbirth was a breeze, and the kids were perfectly behaved.

It was a perfect life.

A perfect dream.

But when you woke, you watched Tom climb out your window, and reality came crashing back down.

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett fic #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennet fanfiction #tom bennet smut #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x you #world on fire #ewan mitchell #12 days of smuff

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Let the Light In

Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader Warnings: Fingering, male masturbation, smut. Word count: ~1.6k

Summary: Having stumbled back too late from the pub, Tom finds Lois and Douglas have locked him out for the night. Thankfully, the girl across the road takes pity on him.

Author's note: Day ten of the Smuffmas prompts - "bed sharing and accidental stimulation". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

“Lois! Lois! Come on, let me up, don’t be tight!”

The shouting filters through to her subconscious, and she grumbles, slowly blinking her eyes open, mind foggy with sleep.

“Lois! It’s freezing out here!”

She flicks on the lamp on the bedside table, lifting her watch to look at the time.

Almost 1am. Bloody pillock.

She has lived opposite the Bennett family her entire life, and though she doesn’t know them well, they’re neighbourly, exchanging polite “hellos” when they pass in the street. Though Tom’s is usually accompanied by a wink that makes her skin feel too hot.

Over the last year or so, she’s grown used to being woken up by Tom stumbling back home at some ungodly hour, waking her up as he shouts for his sister, Lois, to open the window and let him up into their shared bedroom. He knows he’ll cop an earful from their dad, Douglas, if he comes in through the front door. It’s usually double locked anyway, so his key wouldn’t work even if he were to try.

Lois has never left him out on the street for this long though, but she can’t blame her, she’s probably sick of it by now.

“Lois!”

Fuck’s sake.

There’s no point in leaving him out there, his shouting will wake up half the street. She considers it a good job that her own dad works nights, and that her mum has taken to wearing earplugs to bed so that he doesn’t wake her when he returns in the early hours of the morning.

She sighs, throwing off the duvet and stepping out of bed. She parts the curtains, lifting the sash window and shivers as the coldness of the air outside chills her skin through her nightdress as she leans out.

Tom stands outside of his house, leaning back with a lit cigarette between his lips as he stares up at his bedroom window. He’s about to shout again, when she interrupts.

“You’re gonna wake the whole bloody street if you keep on!” She hisses.

He turns, plucking the cigarette from his mouth and exhales a tight line of smoke through pursed lips.

“She won’t let me up,” he calls back. “don’t s’pose there’s any room at your inn? It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, after all.”

“It’s Christmas Eve right now. Have you got any idea what the time is?!”

“Tomorrow doesn’t start ‘til I wake up, sweetheart.”

He flashes a lopsided grin up at her, and she has to fight the urge to smile back as she feels familiar flutters in her stomach.

Cheeky git.

“Wait there,” she sighs, sliding the window closed.

She wraps herself in her dressing gown, picking her way carefully down the stairs, before switching on the hallway light and opening the front door.

Tom is there already, leaning against the doorframe, the crushed butt of his cigarette inches away from his feet.

“You’re a star. Shall I take the sofa then?” He asks, crowding the small space in which her family hangs their coats as she closes the door behind him.

“Absolutely not. Last thing I need is dad coming back from work and seeing you sprawled out in the living room, he’ll throw a fit. Shoes off.”

Tom bends down, unlacing and kicking off his shoes. “Where you putting me?”

“You can kip in my room. Bring those with you.”

“Oh,” he smirks, “if you insist.”

She rolls her eyes, making her way back upstairs, with Tom following close behind.

“You can sleep on the floor,” she tells him, chucking him the knitted blanket from the end of her bed, and the extra pillow she sleeps with.

“Thanks,” he sounds almost disappointed as he catches them, setting them down and busying himself with shrugging out of his jacket and leaving it on a heap on the floor with his shoes.

She had expected him to sleep fully clothed, so she is shocked when she hears the metallic clink of him opening his belt as he lowers his trousers. Feeling her skin prickle with heat, and her heartbeat begin to race, she quickly turns away, shedding her dressing gown and climbing into bed.

She pulls the duvet up around herself, remaining facing away as she listens to the rustle of clothing as he pulls off his jumper, and arranges his bedding.

When it finally grows quiet, she leans over to turn the lamp off and lays back down.

“Night then,” Tom says quietly.

“Night.”

She lays there in the darkness, eyes closed, willing herself to fall asleep and yet it won’t seem to pull her under. It isn’t helped by the relentless shifting around and sighing she can hear coming from the floor beside the bed.

After five minutes of listening to Tom toss and turn, and grumble to himself, she groans and finally switches the lamp back on, leaning down to look at him.

“Can you not just go to sleep?!” She whispers in frustration.

He pulls himself to sit up, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s uncomfortable down here. And I’m cold.”

She presses her lips into a tight line, before exhaling loudly through her nose. “Fine. Come on then.”

Shuffling to the far side of the mattress, she throws the duvet back for Tom and he climbs in eagerly.

“Smashing,” he says with a wink, before turning the lamp off.

They lay back to back and, in her tiny single bed, the angle pushes both of them to the far edges of the mattress, neither one of them comfortably having enough space to stretch out and go to sleep.

“This is awful,” she complains quietly.

“Mmm,” he agrees. “Let me just…”

Tom rolls over and her breath catches in her throat as she feels his chest press against her back, his body slotting itself against hers.

Admittedly, it’s comfier like this, they both have more room, and yet she is certain she won’t sleep a wink with the heat of his body so close to hers. He must be able to feel the way her heart thuds in her ribcage.

He shifts slightly and she feels the press of a bulge against her backside, she knows precisely what it is, and it sets her pulse racing. Instinctively, without thinking, she presses back and his breath shudders hotly against the shell of her ear, his nose pressed into her hair.

Tentatively, his fingertips spread out over her hip, pulling her back against him as he rolls his hips forward, and she feels sticky heat pool between her legs as he hardens against her.

She’s not entirely sure why she’s allowing this, just knows that it feels good and she doesn’t want it to stop as they move rhythmically together, both chasing a friction that neither can quite achieve.

“Have…have you ever…” he whispers, trailing off.

She swallows thickly, afraid to disappoint him, but wanting to be honest. “No.”

“Can I touch you?” 

His hand tightens on her hip and she nods. “Yes.”

Slowly, his fingers trail down her thigh, until he reaches the hem of her nightgown. His hand travels the same path again, only this time upwards and against her bare skin.

She whimpers as he cups her mound through the cotton of her knickers, the pads of his fingers pressing against the dampness of the gusset.

“Christ, you’re soaked,” he breathes shakily.

“Sorry,” she whispers back, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

“Not a bad thing, darlin’,” she can hear the smile in his voice, “nothin’ to be sorry for at all.”

His hand slides upwards, pressing flat against her lower abdomen, and then slides down again, creeping beneath the waistband of her underwear.

“Fuck,” Tom grits out, as his index finger slides between her folds, gathering her wetness before circling her pearl.

She buries her face into the pillow, to stifle the moan that leaves her. She has touched herself before, but it has always been hesitant, secretive, just enough to feel nice. This makes her feel as though her body is on fire.

Tom shuffles behind her, and for a moment she wonders what he is up to, until she feels the brush of his knuckles against her back. She doesn’t need to look to know that he’s pulled his cock out and is stroking himself. The idea makes her throat run dry.

His breaths come in hot puffs, the slick sound of him pleasuring himself, coupled with the squelch of his fingers as they slide and circle against her is lewd, and she knows she ought to feel ashamed, but she is desperate to fall from the edge that he’s eagerly pushing her towards.

She screws her eyes shut when his digit slides inside of her, her walls clenching around him as he curls his finger upwards, dragging against her and making her thighs shake.

“So tight,” he groans, before withdrawing, circling faster against her sensitive bundle of nerves with newly applied arousal.

She whines, arching against him and she feels the movement of the hand he has on himself speed up, as quiet grunts escape him.

“You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Please…”

“Let go. Come for me.”

She bites down on the pillow, muffling the squeal that bursts out of her as her thighs clamp around Tom’s wrist, and her entire body shudders with the force of her peak. She feels like a bottle of pop that someone has shaken too hard, every part of her body coming apart in tiny bubbles.

Tom presses his face harder into her hair, his nose touching her scalp as he groans low in relief, his hips stuttering against hers as he finds his own release.

Slowly she turns to face him. His blue eyes shine in the moonlight, his full lips slightly parted as he breathes raggedly. He leans in, brushing his lips against hers, but not quite kissing her as they lay there together in blissful, tired silence.

“You’ll let me in next time, won’t you?” He rasps.

The double meaning is not lost on her, and yet it does nothing to affect her answer.

“Yes.”

#tom bennett x reader #ewan mitchell #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett smut #tom bennet world on fire #world on fire tom bennett #tom bennett #tom bennett fan fiction #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett fan fic #world on fire #world on fire fan fiction #world on fire fanfiction #world on fire fan fic #world on fire fanfic

[thought--bubble]

Like A Dream

Tom Bennett X (Pregnant Wife Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Tom Bennett Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Based on THIS request

Banners by @arcielee

A/N: Writing this came so naturally to me. I had my daughter young and was looking my best right before I got pregnant, so I used personal experience for this one 🥰 also I did an abnormal amount of research regarding the rarity of grapes during this time period and how special it would be for someone to find them available for purchase 🤣🤣

Warnings:: Body Dysmorphia, pregnancy, minor depression,smut, oral sex (F receiving)

"You alright love?" Your husband asks from his place on the sofa as you walk through the front door.

You sigh. "Yes, Tom," you carry the few bags with food you picked up from the market and place them on the kitchen counter.

Ever since Tom found out you were pregnant, he fawns over you. He hates the idea of you lifting a finger in your delicate condition. The problem? You are a very independent person and like your freedom.

"Not too convincing." he rises from the couch and goes to the counter, peeking through the bags to see what you bought.

"Mmmm, they had grapes!" He plucks a grape off the vine and pops it into his mouth.

"Tom!" You playfully hit his arm."They should be washed first! You don't know who had their hands all over em before I bought em!"

"I survived war, love." He leans his back against the counter. "Don't think a grape is gonna do me in when bombs couldn't"

"Yeah, well, they can still make ya sick, and I'm already sick every morning. Can't have the two of us going. " You huff and sit down in one of the old creaky wooden chairs that sit around the scuffed up second-hand table you successfully purchased off a neighbor about a year ago.

"Hey...." He leans down towards you and pushes your hair back. "You're tired and stressed, darlin. Let me take care of this, yeah?"

"I can do it." You grumble, annoyed, and try to pull yourself from the seat, but your near end of term pregnancy belly made standing an incredibly challenging endeavor.

Tom gives you a stern look. "More stubborn than I am." He gives you that cheeky smile, and you playfully roll your eyes.

"That's not possible" Tom is the most stubborn person on the planet as far as you were concerned and you know for a fact that even on your worst day you couldn't possibly be more stubborn than the man you married.

"Ah! I always knew ya married me for my looks." He wiggles his eyebrows at you as he unloads the groceries.

"What can I say? You got me with those blue eyes, and that smile." You look at him lovingly. You married him for a million reasons. He had pursued you relentlessly for weeks before you finally caved and went out with him. You didn't have any reason you made him wait other than thoroughly enjoying watching him try to convince you of something you already wanted desperately.

"Thank God for my parents! They gave me the good stuff!" He chuckles loudly, and you watch him in awe. Tom had this aura about him. He exudes confidence. Tom is handsome. He knows it, and he embraces it. You hardly ever see him without a smile on his face, and he takes almost nothing seriously.

You sigh to yourself as you move to try and pull yourself out of the chair again. Pregnancy is a magical thing. You know this. You feel it, yet you can't help the way it has you feeling about the body it leaves behind.

Your face is fuller. Something people have been complimenting you on, yet you hate it. Your hips are wider, and your already plump thighs have somehow grown bigger.

The discomfort with the changes in your body started gradually, but as you near the end of your pregnancy, less and less do you like what stares back at you in the mirror.

The tears start to well up in your eyes as you fight a losing battle to hold them back.

"Hey..hey! What is going on, love?" Tom crouches before you cupping your cheeks on either side of your face. He furrows his brows in obvious concern. "Talk to me," he gently rubs his thumb against your cheekbone. His heart breaks a little as he looks into your tear filled eyes. Upset with himself that you are this sad, and he didn't notice until now.

You take in a shakey breath and look at him with despair. "I'm a terrible mum, and the baby isn't even here yet." The flood gates break open, and tears finally start to pour down your face.

"W-why... why would you say that?" He scootches closer to you, placing his hands on either side of your thighs and rubbing his hands up and down.

"I should be happy! A good mother would be happy, but..." The tears are pouring out of your face now, the sadness, guilt, and shame bubbling over and making you feel like you have lost complete control over your emotional state.

"But what, sweetheart?" He drops down to his knees, pushing himself between your legs while he continues to caress your thighs. "You can talk to me, oh darlin, please talk to me."

"I ... I ... I ... I hate it!" You start to sob your face in your hands. "I'm tired, everything aches, it's difficult to move, and all that would be bearable if .... if i didn't look so disgusting now"

"Disgusting??" Tom balks at the statement. "Someone say something to you?" His face contorts in anger. "Was that Mike arse three doors down, wasn't it?" Tom nearly growls. "That's about how much he hates me nothing to do with you, darlin. I'll go sort him." Tom shoots up quickly, tossing on his jacket.

"TOM!" You screech just as he is about to fly out the front door, most likely to rearrange Mike's face. Mike and Tom do not like each other it is certainly not a secret in your neighborhood. Yet Mike has never been anything but pleasant to you. After all, his issue was with Tom, and he wasn't going to take that out on you for simply being Tom's wife.

"No one said anything to me, I have eyes! And a mirror! I can see it clearly for myself!" His heart shatters completely when he hears the crack in your voice, his jaw drops, and he wants to retort but quickly stops himself. The priority is you. He needs to take care of you, so as aggravated as he is, he softens his features and turns back to you.

He drops his jacket on the back of one of the other kitchen chairs and takes your hand. "Let's get you into bed, you need rest" You sniffle and nod as he places your hand in his, while gently holding your lower back with the other making sure to get you out of the chair in the most comfortable way possible.

Once you're up and walking, he wraps an arm around you, gently leading you up the stairs and into the bedroom . He helps you get into the bed, raising your legs and sliding them in before crawling in next to you, his face directly across from yours as you both lay on your side facing each other.

"Thank you," your whisper is gentle with a hint of lingering sadness as he reaches over and caresses right under your eye with his thumb.

"You. are. beautiful." He moves closer to you and puts his forehead against yours "Always".

You chuckle slightly. "You are a good husband, Tom Bennett." You lean forward and kiss him gently.

He pulls back from you, cupping your face in his hands. "Look at me"

You look him directly in the eyes. Yours are still a bit watery, so you try to blink back the tears.

"You. are. beautiful." He repeats."You are always beautiful, don't you ever forget that. Big, pregnant, bald even, you are always beautiful"

You giggle and sigh. "You're too good to me"

"Aven't been good enough love. Or you wouldn't feel like this. " He kisses you softly but deeply while gently rolling you onto your back.

"Been neglectin' ya. Work and allat." He kisses down your neck."I'll make it up."

You hum contentedly and place your hand on the back of his head. Arousal builds up in your core, but you're so tired you don't know if you have it in you right now.

"Don't know if I have the energy for this right now." You chuckle as you close your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of him on your neck.

"Just lie back and relax. This is all about you"

He moves down your body, placing a delicate kiss to your belly before pushing your dress up around your hips.

"Oh Tom, you don't have to do this." You say as he pulls your knickers down your legs.

" I wish I did have to do it. Wish it was an everyday requirement, but I guess I have to settle for doing it when you'll let me. " He brings his hands to your heat, pushing your legs out wider.

"Stunning site, really,"

"Tom!" You chuckle and reach down to give him a whack, but he catches your hand and holds it.

He licks a stripe straight up your center. Your hand squeezes his tight, letting him know the pleasure that is building up.

He gently flicks your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, bringing his free hand to your hip and rubbing circles there with his thumb.

You involuntarily move your hips, desperate for more friction. "You're supposed to be relaxin," he taunts

He returns to your clit swallowing it whole and sucking on it harshly while rolling his tongue over it.

"Oh god, Tom!" You can't help but yell out, your hips taking on a mind of their own as you move against his face.

He smiles against you as he releases your clit nudging it with his nose as he travels lower lapping up your juices before sticking his tongue inside.

Your eyes fly open as you look at the ceiling above you, panting harshly. If someone asked you your name right now, you wouldn't even know the answer. Your head is completely empty of everything, save for the pleasure you are experiencing.

His brings his hand off your hip, the other still grasping your hand tightly. He rubs at your clit with his thumb as he fucks you with his tongue.

"Ahhh. Ahh!" You squeeze his hand tightly as you writhe against his face, getting closer and closer to sweet release.

His hand and tongue switch places as he slides two fingers into you while sucking on your engorged nerve.

"Oh my god, Tom, I can't. I can't!" You don't know what you can't do. You just know that you can't.

He pulls back momentarily. " Oh yes, you can love, and ya will"

He brings his face back to your heat moving it from side to side over your clit while he increases the speed of his fingers.

Everything that happens now is automatic. Your legs lift up and squeeze his head as you arch your back and gasp for air as a title wave of pleasure washes over you.

Tom gives you a few more kitten licks as you ride out your high and stops when you start to twitch.

he crawls back up next to you and flops on his back, panting. "You're. .....beautiful.... don't.... ever... doubt .... that" he rolls onto his side and gazes at your face. "Promise me"

"I promise I'll try Tom." He knows that is the best answer he is going to get out of you so he just smiles.

"While we're talking about promises, I need you to make just one more tiny promise," he grins at you cheekily, sliding his body over so he is right up against yours.

"What?"

He takes your hand and places it over the massive bulge in his trousers

"That you'll help me with this"

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[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"𝑻𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑩𝒂𝒅"

A/N: This is part two of "You can't run forever". //Divider- @cafekitsune

Summary: Tom finally gets the chance to tell you how he feels and shows you how badly he wants to be with you.

Tw: fingering, unprotected s*x, degradation, public s*x, smut

<<Previous Part

After Tom's wake-up call, he got ready and walked across the street to your house. He knew you would be leaving for work any second now.

As you opened the front door you instantly saw Tom sitting on the bottom step and the scent of smoke in your nose.

"Mornin' Tom." You close the door behind you getting a glimpse of your mother sitting at the kitchen table who has a smirk on her face and gives you a wink.

"Love." Tom puts the cigarette out and stands up. "What we up to today then?"

"Workin'. Covering for Mandy, she's sick." You both start walking down the path. "You?"

"Not much." He watches the occasional cars pass by in silence. "Actually...I want to ask you something..." Tom grabs your hand and stops walking.

"Alright...what is it?" For a moment he just stands there staring at you. Tom had never had any struggles talking to women but when it came to you it is as if he forgets how to even breathe properly. "Tom?"

He blinks quickly and takes a deep breath in. Deep down you already know what he is going to say but you want to hear it from his own lips.

"I-I was wonderin' if you'd maybe want to...go out sometime? Just the two of us..." His heart is pounding in his ears as he waits for even the smallest of reactions from you.

The little girl inside you is jumping for joy. Tom Bennett just asked you out! But there is a woman who stands in her way from getting with her childhood crush. Tom ignored you all through school, flirted with friends and ignored you when you left for college. Now after all of that, he wants to take you out on a date? Yeah, not happening.

"Listen Tom..." His heart dropped, he already knew how this was going to go. "...For so long I had a crush on you and I waited for you to ask me out, but instead you flirted with my friends and then completely ignored me whenever I tried to talk with you."

"I know...I just. You've always been so good. You're smart, a good daughter, you help people without being asked and-" He cuts himself off and sighs. "I was worried that I'd ruin that, that I'd ruin your goodness."

Tom had never been one to talk about his feelings. He preferred to always be a jokester and run away from them. It was nice hearing him finally be open and honest.

"And me? I'm not even half of the person you are, and I never will be. But for you, I-I'd like to try." With your hand still in his he pulls you closer to him. "And I'd hate myself if I didn't. So...just like how I made you wait...I'll wait. I'll wait for you to tell me if we have a chance."

Before you can say anything he kisses you on the cheek wishes you a good day at work and leaves. You stand there on the sidewalk jaw slacked and wide-eyed...who was that? Cause surely that couldn't be your Tom.

Eventually, you realize you're going to be late and continue your walk to work. During your entire shift, your mind keeps running over his words. He sounded sincere, he looked sincere. It was only natural you still had your doubts and worries but you had wanted this for so long and it was finally happening.

In the week that passed Tom backed off a bit. He stopped smothering you and gave you the space you needed to think over what he said. Though he did occasionally walk you to work he'd stop you from giving him an answer just yet, insisting you think over it a little longer.

Today you finally got a day off and not just from work. Your dad was getting better and your mom had plans to stay home for the day. Lois had invited you out for drinks where she'd be singing for the night. You weren't one to go out really but Lois had been like a sister to you all your life and you wanted to support her and her dreams. Plus your mom insisted that you get out of the house and spend some actual time with people who weren't your parents.

So you sat at a table with some people all of you cheering her on as she sang. You hadn't dressed up too much but still wanted to look your best. For totally no reason at all and not for anyone in particular.

You offer to get a fresh round of drinks and head over to the bar. As you lean on the bartop waiting for your drinks you feel a hand snake around your waist. You immediately tensed ready to fight off whatever drunken idiot lost his mind.

"You're driving me nuts in this dress love." You relaxed as you realized it was Tom's hands. As his head rests on your shoulders you can smell that familiar alcohol smell. "Saw ya sitting next to Dan. Should I be worried?" You roll your eyes with a smirk on your face.

Dan had too shown some interest in you when you came back, but even you weren't dumb enough to get with him.

"That man is more committed to his beer than he is to women." You turn around and face him. Tom adjusts his hands so they're still resting on your waist. "You finally ready for my answer?"

Tom narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment before shaking his head.

"Not yet." You were starting to get annoyed. Although he said he would be the one waiting it felt like it was you. You could feel yourself getting irritated.

"Tom. I have an answer just let-" Tom pulled you in and kissed you. It was gentle and slow. Not the type of kiss you'd ever imagine having with him. You pegged him as an aggressive kisser type of guy but this was a pleasant surprise. Once he feels you relax into the kiss he pulls away slowly.

"I'll walk you home later. Tell me then yeah?" Tom walks away and joins his group of friends. You turn and grab the drinks you ordered and return back to your table. You enjoy the rest of your night and cheer on Lois.

When the night comes to an end you say goodbye and head out of the pub. As you step out you wrap your jacket around you tighter.

"Ready to go love?" You turn around and see Tom leaning against a wall smoking. He puts it out and walks over to you taking his hand in yours. You both begin walking. Tom's finger brushes over your hand gently as you walk. You can feel how clammy his hands are.

Once you two reach the last bit of walking before you're outside your house you stop holding his hand tightly so he can't walk away.

"Tom." You grab his other hand. "Can we talk now?" You sigh. "Listen-"

"Don't. Please." You were immediately confused. "I know your crush on me was a long time ago and we-" You put your hand over his mouth.

"Tom. Shut. Up." He stared at you wide-eyed. "I was ready to say yes to you the second you asked me." Within moments Tom's lips were on yours and his arms wrapped around you.

Tom leads you both down the alleyway behind your house stopping at your back door.

"I know it's not the most romantic of places but I can't wait any longer." He presses you against the wall as his hands dive in between your legs bunching up your dress and just brushing softly over your clit through your underwear.

He kept gently rubbing you through your underwear as he kissed you deeply, feeling you get wetter by the minute.

"Please..." You needed more. Tom smiled kissing the corner of your lips before moving your underwear to the side. He slowly pushed a finger inside painfully slow. You reached down and started undoing his pants.

"Is this what college turned you into?" He leaned in kissing your neck whispering in your ear. "A needy whore?" He curled his finger searching for that spot as he small hickeys over your neck. He adds another finger pushing in and out of you gently and agonizingly slow. "Always thought I'd be the one to take your virginity." He kept his slow pace. "That's alright. Ill settle for being the man who fucks you the best." He whispers in your ear.

You lean your head back against the cold brick of the building as his fingers do their work. Your moans get louder as he brings you closer to your peak. You cum around his fingers knees feeling slightly weak as he holds you up.

In an instant, Tom picks you up using the wall to help keep you steady as he frees his cock from the confines of his pants. He runs the tip through your folds covering himself in your slick.

"Tell me your mine." Hold holds himself just at your entrance teasing both himself and you. "Say it." He used the thick tip of his cock and circled it around your clit.

"I'm yours." Tom smiled and then slowly pushed himself in. As he bottomed out inside of you he let out a soft groan.

"Fucking perfect pussy." His hands go under your ass as he drags himself in and out of you watching how you coat his cock forming a white ring around his base.

He picks up pace pounding into you as his hands squeeze your ass chasing that feeling. You lazily wrap your legs around his hips locking him in place as his cock hits that perfect spot.

"Fuck! Right there!" Tom can feel you tightening around him. He moves from the wall and steps one foot up onto the steps leading up to your backdoor.

He lowers you deeper on his cock the only sounds in the alleyway being his balls slapping against your ass and your moans. He continues to fuck roughly into you as you both near your climax. Tom kisses you again as you both moan into each other's mouths.

"fuck fuck fuck." As his movements become sloppy your cum hard around him your legs slightly shaking around his body. You can tell he's close by how his face is screwed up. Just before Tom comes he pulls himself off and you take him in your hand finishing himself off, his cum coating your leg.

He sits on the steps with you on his lap and his head resting against your chest. "You meant it?" Tom mumbles. You lean back take his head in your hands and kiss him.

"Yeah. I did. Im yours." He kisses you again before helping to straighten back your dress and tucking himself back into his pants. You sit and talk on those steps for a while longer before you kiss goodbye and head into your house.

You silently close the backdoor and slowly remove your shoes while a stupid grin is painted on your face.

"Glad you went out then yeah?" Your mom doesn't look up from her book but has a cheeky grin on her face.

Meanwhile, Tom climbs up into his bedroom. The only thought on his mind is you as he revels in his victory.

"Finally turned the good girl bad."

A/N: This took me so long to write! I have so many essays due! But I hope you guys like it! This is the last part, it was just a short story ❤️😊

General Taglist: @valeskafics @thought--bubble Series Taglist: @dixie-elocin

#ewan mitchell #best fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan nation #ewanverse #ewan mitchell verse #tom bennet fanfic #tom bennet fanfiction #tom bennett #tom bennet x reader #tom bennett smut #tom bennett x you #tom bennett fanfic

[happilyhertale]

Sweet dreams – Tom Bennett x female!reader

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Summary: Like every night, Tom sneaks into your room so you can have some togetherness. But after you've fallen asleep, he suddenly has other things on his mind than letting you sleep.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, fingering, dirty talk

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1k

Other stories of mine

12 days of smuff

Tom lies in the warm bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, a silent observer of the dance of shadows. Sleep eludes him, and the cigarette dangling casually between his lips releases a delicate stream of smoke with each puff, enveloping him. Outside, a relentless snowfall rages, enveloping the world in a serene white embrace.

However, the pristine beauty of the snow presented a challenge, making it difficult to climb up the façade to your window. But just seeing you standing at the top spurred him on, and every near slip was just a fleeting obstacle on the way to you.

His gaze wanders thoughtfully to the window. The glow of a distant street lamp falls into the room and casts a soft light on his outline. You lie next to him, your form turned away, and your rhythmic breaths create a soothing rhythm. The calm lulled you into a peaceful slumber after he made you cum on his cock, a subtle smile gracing your lips as you sank into the depths of dreams.

But as he listens to the soft murmur that escapes your lips, followed by a gentle sigh, his attention turns back to you. He watches your form, from your shoulders to your waist, until his gaze remains fixed on your ass – until you mumble something again.

Was that a "Tommy"?

He leans towards the bedside table for a moment, puts out his cigarette and then turns to you. His face finds its usual place in the crook of your neck, he inhales your sweet scent, which almost drives him crazy.

His hand slides under the blanket, covering your body with caresses until he gently caresses your bum. You haven't put your panties back on yet, his hand has free rein. You stir slightly, but your eyes are still closed, lost in your sweet dream. He savours your soft skin and how he can snuggle up to your body almost perfectly. Gentle kisses adorn your neck as his fingers continue to caress you. Until you suddenly moan softly in your sleep. Very softly, almost inaudibly.

He starts to knead the soft flesh of your bum, gripping it lightly. His face is still pressed into the crook of your neck as you whimper lightly in your sleep. A slight grin now forms on his lips. The soft, sweet sounds leaving your lips make the desire inside him rise.

His hand glides around your body. It reaches purposefully between your legs and he lets it slide gently through your already wet folds. Your whimpers get louder.

"Hmm... already so wet for me," he murmurs into your neck. A sigh leaves your lips as his fingers find your sensitive bundle of nerves. Gentle but firm movements are left by his fingers and you begin to move your hips slightly.

He nibbles lightly on your neck as the movements of his fingers quicken. Your eyes flutter open as his fingers begin to lightly tease your entrance.

"Tommy," you gasp.

But Tom only grunts slightly, letting his fingers enter you slightly.

"I couldn't resist, love... You were already so wet..." he whispers.

You whimper again as his fingers penetrate you deeper. Your hips start to move towards his fingers, hoping they would thrust deeper.

You bite your lip to stifle a moan so your parents in the other room don't get suspicious

"Tell me what you were dreaming about, Love," Tommy whispers suddenly. For a moment, a slight irritation crosses your face as your breathing becomes heavier. A low moan fills your room as his fingers thrusts deeper.

"You made such sweet whimpers in your sleep..." he continues to whisper.

He slips another finger in, rubbing just the right places. You gasp slightly, your eyes closed. You've been dreaming about Tommy visiting you at night and you spending wonderful hours together – like he really does every night.

"I-I've been dreaming about you, Tommy," you gasp.

He growls slightly as he hears your words, "About me? What were you dreaming about, Love?" he grunts lightly. You feel his hard cock pressing harder and harder against your bum and you whimper again.

"Of your tongue Tommy... How you make me come.. with your tongue..." you whimper.

Tom chuckles softly. His thumb begins to tease your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers rub over the rough patch deep inside you again and again.

You moan softly, biting into the pillow beneath you, your thighs begin to tremble slightly.

"Mmm, you'll have to make do with my fingers now... Is that okay, love?" he whispers.

But you can't answer – you feel your climax approaching and Tom‘s fingers thrusting into you faster. You're breathing heavily.

"Love? Is that okay... if I make you come with my fingers? When I thrust them deep inside you? Rub your sweet clit until your pussy clenches around my fingers... because she doesn't want to let go of my fingers?" Tom murmurs in your ear, nibbling gently on your earlobe. But again you don't answer, fearing that only a moan will leave your lips.

"But the way you're soaking my fingers, I'll take that as a yes..." he continues to murmur.

And that's enough. You literally cry out into the pillow as Tom pushes his fingers further into your spasming pussy.

He gently kisses your neck, "That's it, love... Enjoy it..." he whispers. The movements of his fingers slowly subside. You breathe heavily as the warm feeling floods your body and slowly subsides.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper slightly in response. As you look over your shoulder, you see him licking his fingers clean. You blush slightly.

"Tommy..." you whisper and slowly turn towards him. But he just grins and pulls you closer to him.

"Don't be so shy, love. You know you taste delicious... After all, you always kiss me when I've made you come with my tongue," he whispers.

"Tom!" you gasp, but he just chuckles slightly and pulls you closer to him.

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[vhagarlovebot]

FOLKLORE. send me a prompt/kink/scenario and a character, and i will write you a drabble/blurb.

fake dating with tom bennett? congrats on 3k!!

ONLY ONES WHO KNOW.

pairing: tom bennett x fem!reader.

summary: when you hear news about your mother finding you a husband, you seek comfort in the last person you thought could help you: tom bennett. to your surprise, things take a turn you weren’t expecting.

content warnings: fake dating, flirting, kissing, confessions, just pure fluff.

note: i suck with period dialogues so don’t expect this to have that kind of writing, sorry. if there are any mistakes i apologize but as some of you may know english is not my first language. hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

JUST HOLD MY HAND.” you say through gritted teeth, smile plastered on your face, trying not to show how stressed you really are,

“that’s exactly what i’m doing!” tom says, rolling his eyes and looking around even more stressed than you.

tom straightens his tie, his sweaty hand holding yours like his life depends on it.

“if you don’t stay still i swear to god i’m go—” you shut up when you see your mother across de room. “she is here, are you ready?”

he smiles, the first honest smile you’ve seen in the entire night. “i was born ready, love.” tom winks at you and you immediately blush.

looking away you try to calm yourself and remember the reason why you’re doing this. it is definitely going to piss off your mother, she’s never liked tom, and you will also get her off your back.

“remember,” you say as you make your way to her. “be polite and don’t make any witty comments, please.”

“don’t worry.” he wears his singular smirk, the one that makes you weak in the knees, and you force yourself to look straight ahead. but he notices and chuckles, leaning a little bit closer to leave a kiss on your cheek, sending shivers down your back. “m goin’ to be the perfect boyfriend.”

“fake boyfriend.” you emphasize, squeezing his hand as you get closer to the woman. she’s talking with a couple of friends, glass of champagne in hand, but her gaze is on you. your mother is smiling but you know her blood is boiling under that facade.

“still the only boyfriend you’ve ever had.” he mocks you.

you know he’s just teasing you and wants you to react; that’s how tom bennett is, and it’s not the place to start arguing with him, even though you like to rile him up.

“your precious daughter is here!” one of your mother’s old time friend says. she’s wearing a big black hat while one of her hand has glass of champagne and the other a cigarette. only when she leans to kiss you on the cheeks, she notices tom. “and who is this handsome man?”

you make eye contact with your mother and you can see clearly in her eyes how she begs you not to say anything. you hesitate for a second but tom clears his throat and offers his hand.

“the boyfriend, ma’am.”

the gasps are way too dramatic but exactly the reaction you were expecting. however, your mother doesn’t react at all, there’s not a single change in her expression.

“oh, yes!” she finally says, leaving her glass at the table behind her. the fake smile she has reserved for this kind of events makes you nauseous. “we thought it would be a great idea to tell the news today… you know how my daughter loves to be the center of attention.”

tom caresses your hand with his thumb. his jaw is tense and you know he’s probably biting his tongue to not say anything.

“yes!” after a few moments you finally react, you will not let her win, it does not matter how much she pushes. “i really wanted to show him off.” you giggle, and tom plays his part too. he lets go of your hand and pulls you close by the waist while you rest your hand on his chest.

“what a beautiful pair you two are!” another woman says and you can’t believe how fake all these people are.

“enjoy the party.” you smile back at them, taking tom’s hand once again.

“i’ll join you.” your mother says, excusing herself with the group of people surrounding her.

you scoff, rolling your eyes when you turn away. you wish she would’ve stayed with them but she follows you to the garden.

“what are you doing?” she whispers, taking your arm with all the strength she has. and it hurts.

“i don’t know what you’re talk—”

“don’t take me for a fool, child.” a couple walks past you and she lets you go, at what tom immediately moves to stand between her and you, making sure she doesn’t put her hands on you again. “you want to embarrass me? is that what you’re trying to accomplish?”

“not everything revolves around you.” you fight back, the way she acts makes you want to cry. and you think tom notices that because he caresses your back without your mother noticing. “you didn’t think about asking me before trying to send me off to marry some old man?”

your mother’s gaze finds tom and the way she rolls her eyes reminds you of a child throwing a tantrum.

“this will not last.” she breathes through gritted teeth, scowling up at him.

“being mad doesn’t suits you,” you smile, scrunching up your nose. “it makes you look older.” rasing your index finger you caress the point between your eyebrows to show her exactly where her lines of expression are more noticeable.

she sighs, like giving up. but you know that’s not your mother, she may forget all about it tonight just for the sake of her perfect party. “we are going to have a long conversation tomorrow.” then, she turns around and walks away with a broken ego.

“that was scary.” tom says after a long period of silence. you sit on a concrete bench and sigh, already tired of the lie. “i like it.” he laughs and sits beside you. but when you look at him you can’t help but laugh too, pushing him by the chest playfully.

“do you think she believed us?” you ask, playing with your dress. tom reaches for your hand, giving it a little squeeze to make you look at him. when you do, he has a reassuring smile dancing on his lips.

“i do.” he looks inside the house and sees your mother right in his line of vision, keeping an eye on you. “but we have the whole night to keep pretending.”

“i’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

you really are sorry for going to him with your problems because you’re not even friends. you are friends with his sister and you know her well, but with tom is different. all your conversations always end with him flirting with you, although that doesn’t surprises you at all because he is like that with every girl in town. all your friends have fallen for him. and, even if you will never say it out loud, you won’t deny you find him quite easy to the eye or that he makes your heart beat faster every time he’s around.

you went to his house to seek advise from his sister but she wasn’t there, and you were so upset that when he asked you what happened you blurted everything out. after he made fun of your meaningless problems, he really felt pity so you started talking, and you talked for hours. so much that you ended up asking him for help. the last man you thought would ever want to help you.

“i had nothing better to do.” he shrugs, leaning against the back of the bench. “besides, i like to piss off moms.”

you bite the inside of your cheek. “well, i’m still sorry.”

tom sits upright, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, and leans towards you. “there’s something you could do,” he speaks softly as if sharing a secret. “a kiss will make it better.”

“you’re disgusting.” you move away, all the blood from your body going straight to your face.

“even if your mother is looking at us right now?” he says, his eyes fixed on the entrance behind you where your mother is nowhere to be seen.

“she is?!” you ask, surprised.

“don’t look! we don’t want to look suspicious, do we?”

for a moment you think about it. you want her to believe that you and tom are in a relationship. and the last thing you want is for her to suspect and start questioning you.

that thought is what drives you to find balance in tom’s shoulders as your lips collide against his.

his lips aren’t as soft as you though they were going to be but they still make your heart beat faster and your body tickle. it’s definitely not the first time you are kissing a boy but it is the first time you feel something.

your friends always told you when you kiss a boy you see fireworks and all the butterflies of the world in your belly, but you don’t feel anything like that. you feel calm—even though your heart beats like crazy in your chest—and little stars behind your eyes. you like what you feel.

tom cups your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, and the loud music and people chatting become a light thrum in the background.

it flows naturally, like you were supposed to do it in the first place. it’s a slow and gentle kiss, he leaves his hands on your face to make you feel comfortable and it’s not what you were expecting when you dreamed about kissing tom bennett. you expected him to be smug and get carried away, to feel his hands pressing you against his body. you wouldn’t have minded if that was the case but you like how he keeps you close with a softness you didn’t know tom had in him, like you’re going to break if he tries something more.

after a couple of minutes that feel like hours, tom pulls away and you, instinctively, chase after his lips making him laugh lightly at you.

you feel overwhelmed and dizzy, his lips leaving yours with a tickling sensation as you try to breathe properly again and find the words lost in your mind.

tom doesn’t make fun of you or says something witty to ease the tension like he always does, he just looks at you with his bright blue eyes and waits for you to take the next move; it doesn’t matter to him what is going to be, he will take whatever it is.

“is she still… looking at us?” you still feel like flying after what you experienced and it’s really the only thought coming to you.

he chuckles and shakes his head but still looks behind you, there are people looking at you and they’ll surely tell your mother, but she’s nowhere to be seen. it is then that tom decides to be honest for the first time in his life.

“well,” he begins to say, and you immediately notice he is nervous. there are a few things you’ve learned about tom bennett from all the years you’ve been friends with his sister. his hand running though his hair and the tip of his tongue poking out from the corner of his lips when he’s about to either lie or say the truth is one of those things. “she wasn’t looking. i just wanted to kiss you.”

the way your face heats up makes him smile, which only makes you even more flustered. that confession of his is something you weren’t expecting, but at the same time you know the reputation tom bennett has with the ladies around town.

“do you think of me as another one of your conquests?” you ask him, gaze fixed on the patterns of your dress.

“you think so badly of me?” with his thumb he lifts your chin up but you refuse to look him in the eyes, too flustered still and shy of being so open with him. “don’t you think i have other things to do than just sit all the afternoon in the living room listening to you and my sister gossip while drinking tea?”

his words are enough to make you raise your head and, finally, look at him. the moonlight accentuates the sharp features of his face, giving him almost an angelic look.

“i agreed to do this because not only i don’t want you marrying some old french man.” his hand find yours, fingers playing with your own like two kids too nervous to hold hands. “but because i don’t want you to marry someone else at all.”

if his previous confession surprised you, this one makes your heart stop beating. you look at him trying to find the joke, a part of you expecting him to burst out laughing at any time. but one minute passes, and then another, and he keeps looking at you with all the patience in the world, not rushing you, not pushing you into anything; just giving you all the time you need to absorb all the information he threw you in the face.

do you like him? do you feel the same way? you have to admit you find him rather handsome. his blonde hair, puffy lips and blue eyes have appeared in your dreams more times than you can count. you’ve also find yourself daydreaming as you watch him across the room, sitting in the armchair smoking as his sister tells you the new gossips you don’t hear because you are too lost in your mind. you always listen attentively to everything he has to say, mesmerized by the way he expressed his beliefs, how despite showing to everyone that facade of ‘i don’t care about anything’ deep down he really cares. a lot. but he only lets it show with the people he trust the most. and recently you’ve noticed that you are one of those people. you enjoy his company and anecdotes, you make sure to stay at his house way past your curfew so he can walk you home and you can listen to his jokes and laugh at them, and talk and brush your hands and feel your whole body tickling by the proximity neither one of you dares to close.

do you feel the same way about him? in all honesty, you never considered it because you never really thought tom would feel something for you. you thought he just saw you as his sister’s rich and annoying friend who spent way too much time at his house, so he had no other choice but to put up with you and, in the end, he just ended up liking how nice and friendly you really are. you never thought he would see you as something more—as a woman.

you never thought about it until this very moment where he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world, like you’re the sun and the stars and the most precious of all gems.

and just like that you don’t even have to think about it.

“oh my mother is going to be so pissed off.” that’s all he needs as a confirmation to crash his lips against yours. this time he’s not gentle but it doesn’t matter, because you pour all your feelings into that searing kiss. a kiss that leaves no doubt that you are both finally alive.

#📮 ⌇ my works ​˖⋆࿐ #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x you #tom bennett fluff #tom bennett smut #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett #world on fire #tom bennet fanfic #world on fire fic #★. — vhagarlovebot’s 3k celly !

[moris-auri]

I can't steal you (like you stole me) - part 1

dividers by @arcielee and @saradika

Summary: Spiraling after an argument with her husband, a chance encounter with a stranger shows her just what she was missing… and what she wants.

A/N; my first Tom Bennett fic so please be kind ❤️

masterlist

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+/Minors DNI, smut, implied PTSD, later mentions of malnutrition and war

15 February 1940

In all the years she's frequented the Minerva Inn, she's never seen it as it is now, a hive of activity and growing more crowded by the minute. Almost every inch of the pub is filled to the brim, the moods of the people who called Plymouth home buoyant and lively, a result of the arrival of the HMS Exeter that had come into port hours earlier, casting a shadow like a great iron gray stain against the blue of the sky. 

As her gaze roamed over the gathered people, she mulled over how it was almost too easy to forget the war beyond its walls. The second Great War, the Daily Telegraph had taken to calling it. She remembered it as clear as if it were yesterday, the Sunday that had been like any other. How she had barely stepped one foot inside after hanging the linens up did the crackle of the little radio on the table get louder, Chamberlain's voice resonating throughout the space. 

This country is at war with Germany. 

It had looped inside her head for days after- as it had for others, she knew without a doubt, almost everyone she had encountered going about their life as best they could, herself included. And when her husband had come home, the day after the booklets for rationing of certain foods had been handed around a month ago, did the inkling that had been a nagging thought in the back of her mind for weeks finally reached a head.   

She was unashamedly grateful for it though, the distraction it brought, half afraid to even think what her thoughts would be if she had been locked within a room alone, overflowing inside her brain like water sloshing over the rim of a bucket. 

"Another drink, dearest?" 

She stilled, startled and caught off guard by the question as a shadow darkened the wood of the bar before her. She raised her head, the tension in her back lessening at the sight of the warmth in Mary's eyes as she met the older woman's gaze. She cleared her throat, letting her gaze drop to the glass in her hands, mulling over it silently. Did she? 

The sensible side of her protested against it vehemently, feeling the buzz under her skin, the sensation not unlike a hive of bees. She began to gnaw at her lip, staring at her fingers as she thought it over. 

"I shouldn't-" She said, swallowing the lump in her throat, feeling the alcohol burn a path like fire as she drained the glass, the sound of her hair sliding over the shoulders of her blouse filling her ears. "Actually, I would. Thank you, Mary."

Mary only hummed in response, casting a pointed look her way before turning her back to refill the glass without another word. For as long as she could remember, the older woman had been a fixture in this place, full of memories that were equal parts good and bad. Memories of coming here as a girl, hand in hand with her mother or her father. As a teenager with other girls from her school. As a new bride in white, feeling like she was floating on a cloud and full of joy, a smile stretching her lips ear to ear.

She murmured a quiet "thank you" when it was set in front of her, extending a finger out to swirl it over the rim, her shoulders dropping as she let out a sigh, the memories of the events of the past several hours rushing back. 

The shouting had been the worst part. Nearly as loud as it was unpleasant, she had wished nothing more for it to end, feeling the anger thrumming under her skin as she forced herself to stand still, voice hoarse, listening to every word that had left her husband's mouth. 

A part of her mourned who he had been before everything had gone downhill the day the declaration of war crackled across every radio from Plymouth to Dartmouth and beyond, the news changing them both in more ways than one. It had felt like he had turned into an entirely different person after that, growing more withdrawn and surly with each day that went by, leaving her with the feeling that she was walking on eggshells around him. 

It had reached a near boiling point that morning- the details of whatever had set him off then having long since escaped her. "I can't go back there. Not now at least." She said quietly, lifting a hand to push her hair back, feeling the drops of condensation from the glass that had clung to her fingertips land in her hair. 

Mary clucked her tongue in sympathy, setting down the pint glass she had been cleaning. "Have you got somewhere to stay?"

"I'll figure something out. I always do," she responded, smiling weakly.

"That you do," Mary agreed, patting her hand. "You're a good girl. Though I'd be more than chuffed to give him a piece of my mind."

She huffed a laugh at that, pressing the back of one hand to her mouth in an effort to stifle it, not that it did much good. "Oh, Mary…" She'd never felt more fond for the woman in front of her than she did at that moment. "Now enough about me-" 

She started to speak, only to be cut off by the sound of someone coming closer on her left, the thump of a bag being set on the floor following barely a second later. "A pint for me, thanks." 

Mary's attention shifted from her to the newcomer at that, barely wasting a moment before turning her back to them to fill a glass. She vaguely heard the music change, the not quite upbeat tune fading to a softer one, broken by the sound of the wood of the bar creaking as the stranger beside her rested his elbows atop the surface. 

Her eye flicked in his direction, eyeing him warily as he turned his head to the side, the point of his chin all but digging into his shoulder. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" 

She pressed her lips together, feeling her cheeks heat as a quicksilver flash of irritation raced through her. Her skirt flared around her knees as she twisted, the heels of her shoes clicking on the worn flagstones. "Excuse me?" 

The man turned, one hand hovering inches away from the pint glass, his other hanging at his side. Her lips parted involuntarily when he was face to face with her fully, and she couldn't help but note that he was pretty, startlingly so. His profile was unlike anything she'd ever seen, seemingly to be constructed of chisel sharp edges. Her eyes moved over his face, drifting over the bright shade of his blue eyes, to the beaten gold of his hair beneath the cap before landing on the fading bruise that sat high on his left cheekbone, nearly blending into his skin. 

His mouth twitched, one corner lifting higher than the other as he grinned at her, crow's feet forming in the corner of his eyes. "Cat got your tongue?" 

A cocky one then. 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she spared him another glance before turning away. "Think you're funny, do you?" She had only lifted her glass to her mouth before she felt him shift closer, felt the heat seeping through his clothes. 

"Hey now, I didn't mean it like that-'' he protested. His hand brushed across her arm, a layer of goosebumps forming as a response., and a ringing rose in her ears, all but drowning out every other sound. 

She rested one elbow on the surface, the wood cool under her skin as she met his eyes again, his accent catching her attention almost instantly. "You're a Manchester boy, aren't you?" She couldn't help but ask him, her interest piqued. Anger still simmered under her skin, though not quite as potent as it had been. 

His eyes narrowed immediately, her words seeming to strike a nerve in him. A vein ticked in his jaw, the expression on his face turning unreadable. "So what if I am? You've got a problem with that?" He asked, his tone bordering on defensive. 

"You're a long way from home, is all," she responded, shaking her head amusedly. "Plymouth is hours from Manchester." 

"My ship's docked for repairs." 

"Ah." She made a sound of understanding in her throat. "You're one of the Exeter boys, then." she said, watching him reach for the pint, throat working as he swallowed. His diverted attention gave her the opportunity to take in his clothes, eyes moving over the standard twilight dark shade of blue of his uniform. 

His upper lip twitched at the statement. "I am."

"What was it like? That fight you were in? Battle of the River Plate, I believe?" she asked, leaning closer to him. "I remember hearing about it on the radio."

The words died on her lips when his gaze lowered, settling blankly on some point over her shoulder, his expression shifting to something that was almost haunted. A shadow seemed to settle over his face, all but snuffing out any trace of the person she had been talking to only seconds before.

"If you don't-" she laid a hand on his arm, feeling a fool for asking. His gaze rose to her face again, the weight of whatever lurked behind his eyes making her pause, her breath stilling in her lungs. He blinked, once then twice, the movement rapid enough for her to almost miss it. 

He let out a low chuckle, the bitter tone to it contrasting with the grin that formed on his lips. "It was fucked," he said finally, and she could see his tongue drag across his teeth left to right behind his lip. "It was fucked," he repeated, not tearing his eyes away from her own. "Seeing them like that-" 

He shook his head suddenly, the movement making a strand of hair fall, brushing across his forehead, and she was hit then by the sudden urge to brush it back. 

She bit her lip, suddenly desperate to change the subject. "What's your name?"  

"Tom," he said, and she was almost sure he was thankful for it. She hoped he was, at least. "Tom Bennett."

She glanced down at the hand he stuck out, hesitating but a moment before taking it. She fought the urge to shiver as she did. The calluses on his palm rasped against her skin, warmth from his hand seeping into hers. He- no, Tom, met her gaze again, and she realized belatedly he had yet to drop her hand. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, reaching for her drink and savoring the burn of the alcohol.  

As the night wore on, they talked, time seeming to stop as she sat beside him, the bar surface before them littered with several empty glasses. Loathsome as she was to admit it, talking to him felt effortless in a way, words flowing from the both of them easily. A part of her, half guilt and half longing for something, wondered what it'd be like to kiss him; to press her lips to his and feel the heat of him flush against her. 

Her head lifted at the sound of the chiming of the clock on the wall, gaze finding the hands of it showing 11 pm. "I should be going," she murmured, shaking her fingers slightly, fighting the urge to sigh when he let go. 

"I could show you a good time, you know," he said as he half leaned against the bar. 

Half scandalized, she blinked, craning her head back to stare up at him, stumbling slightly as she stood, sucking in a breath when his hand shot out, clasping her elbow loosely. She all but ignored the warning look in Mary's eyes, feeling almost drunk on the alcohol coursing through her veins and the weight of his attention. "Tell you what," she exhaled, laying her hand on his arm, the material of his uniform coarse under her fingers. "If you're still here tomorrow, I'll find you." 

Her hand fell back to her side when Tom shifted, standing to full height. He seemed to fill the space, towering over her, the grin on his face making her heartbeat jump. Something fluttered in her belly at the sight of it. "Is that a promise, then?" 

"Maybe. Maybe not." Unable to resist, her eyes flicked to his mouth, the thump of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. 

She dropped her hand without another word, all but darting around him and making her way towards the door, putting as much distance between them as she could, feeling the weight of his gaze on her back as she moved toward the door on half unsteady feet, a gust of cold February air greeting her as she stepped onto the street. 

She tipped her head back against the wall of the pub as she exhaled a breath, rifling through her purse for a light, the orange reddish glow of it casting a warm hue over her face, watching the smoke from the cigarette she held loosely between her fingers wafting higher and higher into the night sky.  

#my fics #world on fire #tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett x you #tom bennet x reader #world on fire fic #tom bennett smut

[fan-goddess]

Authors Note: Here’s the final one of your requests sweet anon! I literally started this yesterday so I’m happy with how quick I wrote this! I’ve separated your requests into 3 separate pieces just so it’s easier! Hope that’s okay and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Certainly went more goofy than usual with the tags that’s for sure…

Warnings: P in v sex, public sex, Toms got a hell of a mouth, dirty talk, teasing, unprotected sex, he’s just oozing dominance, overstimulation, he’s cocky as hell, but he gets strangely bashful at the end, he’s gotta low-key breeding kink, and it’s successful, thumb sucking but not your own, degrading I think, praising also, (if I’ve missed any which I don’t doubt I have, then let me know in a way you’re comfortable with)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

The bar was crowded and noisy, as sailors from all ranks spread themselves all throughout the room looking for their next ‘catch of the day’.

You yourself was sitting idly by the bar, sipping your daiquirí whilst your supposed best friend was chatting up some ginger haired sailor with spectacles the size of oranges with vigour. You loved her, you really did, but she really had some unique tastes…

“And what’s a gal like you sitting all by herself in a place like this now?” A voice said, bringing you from your depressive thoughts.

When you turn to him, you’re actually surprised to see a handsome man in-front of you, dressed in his sailors uniform, with a matching hat and a cocky grin painted on his lips to match.

“Well sailor, my mates currently chatting up one of your own. And I’ve been left all on my own…” It’s amusing to you how when you mockingly pout in annoyance for a little added affect, the sailors eyes can’t stop themselves from staring at them, desire clearly swirling within them.

“Well we can’t have that can we now! A beautiful woman should never be without company I believe!” He grins, slyly touching hands with your own so his little finger can caresses your warm skin.

You choose not to answer his statement right away, instead watching with hooded eyes as his own stare pure liquid heat into your whole body, merely at the sight of your lips pursed around the straw of your drink whilst you give a small hum of amusement.

“And what are you going to do about my lack of company sailor?” You grin, placing down your now empty glass to look at him with full attention, resting your head on your hand for that extra effect.

“Well, I’ll be keeping the lady company. In any way she so pleases…” He grins, coming closer to you under the pretence of wiping something away from the corner of your mouth. Only his own mouth opens slightly in surprise and arousal, when your lips move to wrap around his thumb and bite down slightly, before removing it with a slightly wet pop and a cheeky grin.

“Well then, it’s a good thing I know exactly how you’ll be keeping me company, isn’t it sailor boy?” The cheeky carefree grin still drawn on your face.

“Yes pretty woman, it is indeed…”

It’s surprising how calm and aroused you are about fucking an absolute stranger in an abandoned and slightly dirty alleyway behind the bar. But hey, the big wars going on and you have no idea if you may die the next day. Gotta make the most of it right?

“Fuck… such a tight pussy…” The sailor boy groans, the sound alone going straight to your cunt that clenches desperately around his cock.

You have no idea his name, but that strangely makes that it all the more thrilling.

“Oh! So good!” You whine. The grip your nails have on his arms tightening as his teeth sink almost desperately into the skin of your neck. Wanton you cannot control ripping straight from your throat as he does so.

It only gets worse when that same thumb you playfully bit down earlier comes to your mouth once more to collect some of your built up saliva, and skilfully trace circles with it on your swollen clit.

You’ve got to admit, your sailor is nothing but skillful when it’s comes to a woman’s body. Not that you’re complaining of course….

“Can already feel your walls clenching down on me. You want my cum that badly inside you huh?” He huffs, grinning into the skin of your neck as he sucks dark marks you know’ll show up the next morning. It almost makes you forgive the cocky undertones that so clearly shines through.

“It’s okay love, I know you can’t help it when you’ve got a cock this big in your tight little pussy huh? Come on love, fucking cum for me already!”

You didn’t even realise how close you were until he told you. As the moment he said those words with that almost annoyingly deep seductive voice of his, your walls began to clench and your whines become muffled as you try to quieten them down by keeping your head in the curve of his neck.

Yet as you felt the euphoric feeling calm down, you realised he hasn’t even cum yet, and he was still thrusting deep inside of you like it was his last time on earth. Which to be honest, when you thought of this moment later that evening, to a man like him, it very well may have been.

“Awe it’s okay love! You can give me another one can’t you? Let’s see if we can give you another before I cum deep inside you shall we?” The sailor gives you another cocky smirk whilst his thumb still continues to draw small shapes on your clit, and all you can do to respond is whimper slightly whilst nodding your head sluggishly.

The strange buzz you begin to feel throughout your whole body is slightly painful, and yet that feeling mixed with the once again building of pleasure is something you can’t help but find almost annoyingly addictive.

So additive in fact, you can’t help but clamp your teeth tightly onto the plump skin of your lips to keep that delicious mix of pain and pleasure pumping through you.

“Awe, have I fucked my pretty girl dumb? That’s such a shame… still. I gotta tell you this is by far, the best fucking cunt in England” He emphasises his praise with a sharp thrust between each word, and you can’t stop yourself anymore from releasing your lips and beginning to desperately gasp for breath as his cock makes you feel practically breathless as he bullies you with it.

And It’s only worse for you when his cock begins to bully your sweet spot harshly and accurately.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna cum again!” You whine, your eyes screwing shut as you barely manage to get the words out.

“Hey! Eyes on me love!” His hand suddenly withdraws itself from your clits with a slight gasp you realise he’s grabbed your jaw tightly to force your eyes to look into his own, and his thumb covered in your juices is pushed into your own mouth, where you suck almost wantonly at the soaked digit with a whine.

“Yeah, that’s a good girl! Gonna cum deep inside you… and who knows. Maybe I’ll leave you with a going away present!” He chuckles, before his face screws up slightly as you feel yourself cumming around his cock, bringing him to his own orgasm with a deep erotic groan.

The two of you don’t speak for a few moments. Allowing only the sounds of your mixed heavy breaths do the talking as he releases you from his hold and the two of you begin to make yourselves presentable.

Sailor boy only needing to pull up his trousers and redo his belt, whilst you yourself pull up your underwear and adjust the shoulder straps of your dress before wiping away the slight wet trails around your mouth with your sleeves.

You look at him almost shyly as the sudden soberness hits you, whilst his own eyes hold slight sympathy when he looks over the state of your neck. No doubt already bruised and marked for all to see on the way back home.

“My names Tom by the way. Tom Bennett.” He says, finally breaking the sudden build of ice.

You shyly say your own, and a slight blush takes over your face when he repeats it back to you under his breath with a small half smile. As if to test it.

“I’m shipping off next week. Did you uhm, did you wanna maybe go somewhere to eat tomorrow night maybe for dinner? I’d ask if you wanted to go now, but now that I’m looking at you, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe go and rest back at your place first before we did anything…” It’s strange to see your sailor boy, or Tom you suppose, so shy all of a sudden. But still you can’t help yourself from smiling slightly as his much more innocent proposition than the one he gave you back in the bar.

“I’d love to do it tomorrow! I think you’re right. I may need some rest before we go somewhere… still, did you have anywhere in mind to eat?” You ask, preening slightly as he smoothly places him arm over your shoulder almost possessively and leads you out of the alley with a small smile, insisting he walks you to your home.

Whatever you do, no matter how many times you’re asked, you never tell your children this is how you met their father. Nor tell your eldest son this is how he got brought into the world…

#tom bennett/reader #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x you #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett smut #tom bennett #tom bennet x reader #world on fire smut #world on fire #ewan mitchell character

[fclk-lores]

⌗ TOM BENNETT! DIVINE RIVALS AU ; "Me? I'm just a bloody nuisance."

#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ - ❝ moodboards ❞ #just a thought that came to my head #tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett fluff #tom bennett smut #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennet x reader #tom bennett oneshot #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #moodboard #messy moodboard #pinterest moodboard #dark acedemia #dark academia moodboard #divine rivals #divine rivals au

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Enclosed

When he's far away at sea, Tom finds himself infinitely grateful that you found work at a photography studio.

Author's Note: This fic, two days late? Noooooo.... Also! I've inadvertently made all the Tommy B smuff fics connected, so this can either be read alone or as a sequel to "After the War"

Pairing: Tom Bennett x Reader (2nd person)

Warnings: masturbation (m), lingerie, references to oral sex (f receiving) and p in v sex

This work is a part of my 12 Days of Smuff event! Read the rest here.

My Masterlist

Enclosed

Prompt: Letters & Lingerie

Tom lay in his bunk with a cocky smile on his lips. He cast his eyes around the rest of the room, finding only one or two other sailors, both asleep and far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to hear him.

This ritual was well worth skipping his mid-day meal.

He weighed the envelopes in his hands for a moment. It felt heavier than it usually did – that boded well for him. After taking a moment to inhale the perfume you had lovingly sprayed on the envelope, Tom dug into your letter.

Tom, my strapping husband,

You said in your last letter that your life in His Majesty’s Nave was ‘fucking boring.’ Shall I tell you how exciting my life back home is?

My uncle has changed the studio’s opening to eleven in the morning so he can get some sleep after staying up all night as an air raid warden. Which means I must find a way to fill that time, assuming I am not also sleeping as I often do after spending a night crammed into a shelter with every screaming and crying child in the whole goddamn neighborhood.

But when I am not sleeping, I often find myself doing the chores that Mum no longer has the energy to do. I swear, if I didn’t do the shopping and cooking, we’d all be eating nothing but bread. Since dad left, she just hasn’t been the same. I think him leaving again reminds her of the last war. He went missing for seven months, seven! I can’t imagine how awful it must have been for her.

Don’t you ever put me through that, Tom Bennett. Not even for a week. I swear I’d come to France myself to drag you back here by your ear.

Now that’s out of the way, I do have something somewhat exciting to tell you. My uncle’s been letting me use the camera a lot more than before he signed up to be a warden. I even got to do a family’s christening portrait all on my own! He wants me to be able to handle the studio on my own, should he ever get called up (not that we’re even slightly concerned about that, considering his age). Or – oh no. That’s not really why he’s doing it, is it? He wants me to be able to run it in case one day he doesn’t come back after the sirens go off, doesn’t he? I’m going to try not to think about that.

I brought it up because he’s allowed me to start using the portable camera rather than the big one in the studio. This way, I won’t always have to be nervous that he will walk in on me when I take pictures for you.

Speaking of, I think you’ll like what I enclosed today. I borrowed Mum’s, just as you asked.

Your adoring wife,

Tom stared at those two wonderful words. Husband. Wife.

He wished he’d been able to give you the ceremony you deserved. Not simply standing in the register office with all your parents looking on with half-hearted smiles before being rushed out almost immediately so the next couple could come in. You deserved so much more than that, roses and a band and a grand hall and all that shit. Once he was home, for good, he’d give it to you. All of it. Most of all, a big honeymoon. Not the one night in a shabby local hotel your parents, your uncle, and even his sister Lois had helped pitch in to get you. Only for him to have to leave again the next day.

The fact that he was leaving you as his wife instead of just as his best girl made it somehow so much harder.

But this helped.

He started by writing his reply to the actual content of your letter. If he started with the pictures, he knew he wouldn’t give a shit about whatever you’d written by the end.

My sweet darling wife,

I am so very sorry that you have things to do all day. Whenever I feel bad about sitting at the prow and staring at the endless ocean, I will remind myself that you are enduring such tortures as shopping and taking undoubtedly lovely family portraits. It will remind me that I should be eternally grateful that the king himself has sent me on the world’s most boring cruise.

Joking aside, I am very sorry you’re stressed. Give your mum my love and tell your uncle that I’m counting on him to look after you while I’m gone, and thank him for his good work (with the warden thing, not the photography). Please take care of yourself. I know you’re willing to stretch yourself thin for the people you love, but I love you too, and I’ll be pissed if I come home to a wife too exhausted to even fuck me.

I actually might not be bored for a few days. They’re sending us to do a job, even if I will be stuck in a rowboat for a day, maybe more. Ah well, at least I won’t be the one rowing, at least.

I’m very happy about you getting more responsibility at the studio. Of course, most of that is for selfish reasons, but I’m still proud of you, love. Can’t wait to see what you’ve enclosed. Oh and before I forget, I’d like to request something… red in your next letter.

Your proud husband,

Tom Bennett

He never wrote as much as you did, but he knew you didn’t mind. You didn’t want any details about the horrible, upsetting things he’d seen, it would only worry you too much. Besides, you knew what he really loved about your letters.

After taking another deep breath, Tom set the paper aside and finally allowed himself to look at your pictures.

“Oh, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl…”

The pearl necklace you wore was a little off-center, but Tom hardly noticed it. He was solely focused on what you were wearing—a full corset, in some kind of shiny, light-colored fabric. The top of it only held half of your perfect tits inside, allowing him to admire their smooth curves. What he wouldn’t give to hold them in his hands. Once he got home, he’d do just that for an hour at least.

Over your delightfully cinched waist, you’d worn a sheer petticoat with ruffles at the bottom – exactly like one you might have worn under your wedding dress, if you’d been able to wear one. He’d get you that, too. Even if only to go to your uncle’s studio to take pictures. Tom wouldn’t need to rent a morning coat, as he’d just wear his uniform, so he could spend extra getting you the perfect dress.

Maybe you could even redo the wedding night.

Tom surveyed the room again before lying back and sliding his hand below his waistband. He’d done this so many times that now, he got hard the instant he picked up the envelope, so he was still relatively proud of his restraint, and was sure you would be, too.

He started slowly, imagining slipping the petticoat off you. Imagine how you’d shiver as his finger ever so slightly brushed your skin. The sounds you’d make – sighs and little whimpers. He loved those little whimpers so much.

He let out his own soft sigh as he began to move his hand faster. Once the petticoat was down, he’d kneel in front of you and make quick work of your shoes, then take his sweet time unbuckling and lowering your stocking.

God, how he missed those legs, shapely and soft. He loved touching them, kissing them, laying between them. His hips kicked up as he imagined himself kissing his way up them when he got home, all the way up to that delightful place where your knickers dug into the little dip between your leg and your hips.

It was hard to hold back his moan at the thought.

He’d lower your knickers first, he decided. So he could bury himself in you until he was satisfied. Yours was a taste he craved as badly as he did for decent cigarettes. He sometimes woke from dreams of devouring you, thinking he could still taste you on his tongue.

Only when your legs were shaking would he stand, prowling behind you with his hands on your waist. He’d kiss your neck as he untied your corset. Or unhooked? He didn’t know, but he hoped it was untie – it was sexier.

The pearls would stay on the whole time as he kissed you, touched you, fucked you. He’d put them between your teeth to help you soften your cries and moans, then watch them fall back on your chest when you came. You always came with your mouth wide open as you screamed his name.

That memory of your voice and the way your nails would dig into his skin is what drove him over the edge, spilling himself into his hand.

Tom lay there, reliving his imaginings, until a bell rang, signaling it was time to get in the rowboats. He made sure to wipe his hand on the mattress of one of the rich cunts who mocked him and the other working-class boys before leaving, his own letter in hand.

He stopped by the room where they kept their post on his way to the rowboats, quickly folding his paper to stuff it into an envelope. A smile crept over his features as he addressed it to ‘Mrs. Tom Bennett,’ before filling out the rest. He was glad that you were living in your parent’s house, but he couldn’t wait until he could get a place just for the two of you.

Lastly, he wrote the date in the corner of the envelope, as you always liked to know when he received yours, so you could be sure to include all the relevant gossip he’d missed.

26 May, 1940

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett fic #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennet fanfiction #tom bennet smut #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x you #world on fire #ewan mitchell #12 days of smuff

[humanpurposes]

Just for a Moment, part i

Tom Bennett has a habit of climbing through her bedroom window whenever he's in trouble // Main Masterlist

Tom Bennett x OFC

Warnings: 18+, mentions of war and death, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Words: 3800

A/n: Me? Starting another series to avoid updating ongoing fics? No wayyyy. This is going to be a 4 part mini series and their song is When the Sun Hits by Slowdive, just so you know. Also available to read on AO3.

Tom Bennett had always had a talent for getting under people’s skin.

Kitty knew it when they were kids, when they’d run around the streets of Longsight and the alleyways behind Slade Grove. He would rile anyone up, regardless if they were older or bigger than him. He didn’t even do it for a reason, he just liked to get a raise out of people.

He used to tease her too, for all sorts of stupid reasons, because she was a year younger than him, because her mother used to dress her in shirts and shorts that used to belong to her older brothers, because when they’d buy bags of Yorkshire mix from the shop, she would only eat the red ones. Every Sunday after Church, they’d sit in the park or on the front step of the Bennetts’ house, and Tom would pick out every sweet he knew she liked, and keep the rest for himself.

When Tom was eleven he moved to the big school, where Kitty’s brothers all went, Eddie, Art and Stevie. Eddie was a prefect. He used to come home with all sorts of stories of Tom Bennett, ‘from over the road’. Tom talked back to his teachers, disrupted assemblies, picked fights with other kids, every offence Kitty’s mind could imagine. 

It only got worse when his mam died.

Thursday 12th July, 1928

Kitty had never been to a funeral before. She had a new dress and a black overcoat for the occasion. It was cold in the church graveyard, overcast and windy. Mam had held her hand so tightly she wondered if she’d ever get it back. 

The Bennetts stood together, on the other side of the grave. Lois’ hair was braided into a messy plait that stuck out on one side, the ribbon at the end tied into a knot rather than a bow. She was trying to hold her father’s shoulder as he cried, but she couldn’t quite reach. Tom stood a little further away from his father. His hair was messy, his knees scabbed and bruised, his shirt skewed and the buttons done in the wrong places.

Kitty kept her eyes on him, all through the service, the burial and the wake back at number 27. Tom didn’t cry once.

That night, when she should have been asleep, she lay awake in her bed, listening to her brothers whispering and in the next room as they always did. Sometimes she felt sad to be left out of their antics, but tonight she was glad to be on her own, in her little box room at the front of the house.

Until she heard a tapping on the window.

She froze between her sheets. Was it too late for it to have been a bird?

And then it came again, tap, tap, tap.

With a determined little huff, she rose from the bed, smoothed her hands down the front of her nightgown and drew back the curtains.

“Tom?” she whispered.

He grinned when he saw her, perched on the windowsill behind the glass. 

Kitty raised the window and before she could invite him in he was crawling through it.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

Tom shrugged and went to sit on the edge of her bed. He glanced around the room, at the little shelf of books, dolls and small wooden animals, the black overcoat hung on the back of the door and the drawings stuck to the wardrobe. He’d been in the Wheelans’ kitchen before, but he’d never been allowed upstairs.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, far too loudly for Kitty’s liking.

She pressed a firm finger against his lips. She held her breath, waiting for one of the lads to notice, but they kept on chatting– whatever it was teenage boys chatted about.

“Keep your voice down,” she said.

Tom smiled against her finger and made a cross over his heart.

She sat beside him, swaying her legs while she tried to think of something to say.

Tom reached for a book on her bedside table and flicked through the pages. When he was bored of that, he grabbed her teddy. He tossed it about in his hands and ran his hands over the ancient and matted fur. It had been Eddie’s, back in the day. Every single one of her brothers had owned it before her.

“I don’t like seeing my dad cry,” Tom said.

Kitty frowned. “Why not?”

“I just don’t like it. He’s always been a bit…”

Dad had often mentioned the case of Douglas Bennett. They had fought in the same regiment in 1914. When Micheal Wheelan came back from war, he returned as a self-proclaimed hero. His boys loved to hear his stories and take turns wearing his medals. Douglas Bennett had returned to Manchester a far more troubled kind of man.

“And with mum he–” but he stopped himself with an irritated grunt. “Can I stay here?”

“What?” 

“Not forever, I just… can I sit here, just for a moment?”

Kitty took the teddy from him and placed her hand firmly in his. “That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

From then on, Tom made quite a habit of appearing at the window and hiding in her room whenever he was in trouble.

Saturday 2nd September, 1939

Being up and out before the boys are awake is a strange feeling, it’s the only time the house is so quiet.

It’s just before dawn. The sky is a hazy shade of dark blue but an orange glow is starting to appear over the rooftops. Mr Gregory wants her in the shop early to help with a delivery.

Something draws her eyes from her black leather shoes on the pavement, up to the end of the street. A figure makes his way down Slade Grove. She recognises the sway of his shoulders and the end of a lit cigarette in his mouth.

“Alright, pretty Kitty?” Tom says when they’re in earshot of each other, taking the cigarette between his fingers. “What are you doing up so late?”

“It’s early,” she says. He’s in a jacket and slacks, and he has a dazed sort of look in his eyes. She can guess where he’s been but it doesn’t stop her from asking. “What have you been up to?”

“Don’t give me that look,” he says, taking another drag. He tilts his chin up and exhales the smoke above their heads through pouted lips. “Just been down the pub, nothing scandalous.”

A likely story. She’s seen the police knocking on their front door twice in four weeks.

“How’s your job in the shop going?” he asks.

It was supposed to be temporary, a little money to make ends meet after dad got laid off from the factory. Six months later and she’s still there. 

“Grand,” she says.

“Can you do me mates rates on a packet of Marlboros?”

“Yeah, if you promise to actually buy them.”

He clutches his chest and his face lights up in an ironic expression. “Of course, what sort of man do you take me for?”

The sort who used to sell cigarettes in the schoolyard— God knows how he got his hands on them in the first place. At that age he could talk himself out of anything. That’s what makes Tom Bennett every parent’s worst nightmare, he’s a troublemaker with pretty blue eyes and an infectiously charming smile.

“I should get going,” she says, taking another step until Tom moves in front of her. Her eyes meet with the collar of his jacket and the hollow of his throat. She can smell the musk of the pub on him, the cigarette smoke and the faded scent of his aftershave.

She looks up to his face and his expression has changed, not quite smiling but amused, smug and somewhat severe.

“What?” she says impatiently.

“Nothing,” he says, unphased, “have a good shift.”

The morning drags on at a gruelling pace. Mr Gregory’s getting on a bit now so Kitty has to do a lot of the heavy lifting, piling boxes into the storage room round the back, going through the stock in the shop, filling the shelves, flattening the boxes and bringing them to the bins outside. It feels like hours of work, but when she looks at the clock it’s not even 9. Eight hours until closing. Mr and Mrs Gregory live above the shop, so at least she gets a steady supply of tea, toast and bits of carrot cake.

By the afternoon she feels her eyes start to close. The morning rush is over now and business will dwindle for the rest of the day. She tries to stay awake, fanning herself with her blouse and nibbling on little mouthfuls of cake.

The bell above the door rings. She straightens her spine and smooths down her apron, ready to put on her best customer service voice, only for Tom Bennett to swagger in through the door.

He’s changed his clothes and donned a blue jacket instead of the earthy green she had seen him in earlier.

“Did you get enough sleep?” Kitty asks at the heavy look under his eyes.

He grins it off. “Packet of Marlboros please, Miss Wheelan.”

She fetches them from the cabinet behind the counter and places the packet in front of him. His aftershave smells a little stronger now. “Anything else?”

He drums his fingers against the counter, looking around innocently at the array of chocolate bars and the jars of sweets behind her.

“I’ll have a bag of Yorkshire mix,” he says.

She takes the jar down from the shelf. She can hear him breathing steadily through his nose as she scoops the sweets into a paper bag. When she turns back around he’s watching her.

“Nine pence,” she says, swallowing down a nervous feeling in her throat.

Tom counts through some change from his pocket and drops the coins into her hands, a sixpence and a thruppence. His fingertips brush over her palms and his knuckles are scabbed over. She dreads to think why.

“Nice one,” he says once she puts the payment through the till. “What do you make of this stuff going on in Poland then?” he says, popping a pear drop into his mouth.

She’s only been reading the headlines of the papers when she stocks them in the shop every morning, or hearing snippets from dad’s radio. 

“Since when did you start taking an interest in foreign affairs?” she asks.

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a raspberry. “Been reading the news, haven’t I?” he says, holding it out for her. 

She hesitates for a moment before she takes it. She lets the sugar melt over her tongue. It tastes like summer afternoons after school and weekends in the park, tearing at the grass and watching the boys play football because they’d never let her join in.

“That’s where Harry is, isn’t it?” she says, “Lois must be worried.

Tom tuts and tucks the bag into his pocket. “Posh boys can talk their way out of anything,” he says. “Speaking of, I met Madge’s new man last night.”

“At the pub?”

“Yeah. Right ponce in’t he?”

She purses her lips in irritation. She hates it when he does this, poking fun at others until he feels better about himself. “He’s training to be a barrister.”

“Like I said.”

She shrugs. “I suppose there are worse jobs to have.”

“Is that what you’ll do then? Find some rich boy with a big house and stick up his arse?”

It’s not quite the future she has planned out for herself. Her friend Madge is a secretary in Manchester. There are all sorts of exams she had to pass, but it could be doable. Mam’s always tried to put her off it though. “Parents need their girls,” she says.

“I don't think I’m likely to find any of those in Longsight. Maybe I should ask Lois for advice?” she says, trying not to smile.

“Steady there, Kitty, I didn’t mean to get you all excited,” he says, leaning into the counter. His voice is lower all of a sudden, it sends an odd, jittery feeling though her chest and stomach.

He winks at her before he turns and leaves. The bell rings and the shop is quiet again.

Her feet feel heavy when she walks through the front door. Her bed calls her name but she’s unbearably thirsty. Saturdays are half days and the boys are already home from the factory. Mam’s started on dinner and the others are around the kitchen table. 

Dad waves a blue leaflet at her. “One of Douglas Bennett’s pacifist… things,” he says.

“Do you really think there’ll be a war, dad?” Kitty says, shrugging off her coat.

“If there is, it won’t be long,” he says with a determined nod, “no one wants another war.”

Eddie and Art hum in agreement. The oldest of the four Wheelan siblings, they were born before dad went away to war. Their faces are older and more stern, like they can still remember a time when they didn’t have their father around. They still call Stevie and Kitty “the babies,” which she thinks must make them feel more important.

Stevie’s in good spirits though. “Ran into Lois and Connie on the bus, and Connie personally invited me to their gig tonight!” he says brightly.

“Come off it,” Art grumbles, “she was just being friendly.”

“Kitty!” Stevie sings, waltzing over to her. He takes her coat from her hands and twirls her around the kitchen, to mam’s despair. “Come to the Fiddler’s Bow with me tonight, please.”

“So you can ditch me for Connie once their set’s done?”

“There’ll be other people there,” Stevie says, turning her around to face their brothers, “or ask one of these grumpy bastards to join us.”

“Stephen Wheelan!” their mother chides.

Eddie and Art share a pointed look and shake their heads, already backing away towards the front room.

In the end she decides she’ll just have to brave it. After eating, she changes into a flowy, white blouse and an emerald green skirt, pinning her hair up so it won’t go everywhere as she moves. She hides a tube of lipstick inside her purse. Mam and dad would rather die than let her leave the house with makeup. She only owns a lipstick because Lois Bennett had given her one.

Stevie brushes up well, in a white shirt and freshly shined leather shoes, his hair slicked back with wax. They run into each other on the landing and race downstairs.

Mam gives them the usual instructions. Home by 11 o'clock and not a minute later. One drink each. No smoking. No noise when they get in. 

Stevie’s already pulling a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket when they’re halfway through the front door.

And Kitty’s breath hitches when, for the third time that day, she sees Tom Bennett. He’s hovering in the doorway, putting empty milk bottles out. When he notices them, he smiles. “Off somewhere nice?” he says.

“Fiddler’s Bow,” Stevie calls back, “to see Lois and Connie play.”

“She’s down there already,” Tom says, his eyes flickering to Kitty for only a moment, “left half an hour ago.”

He’s in a white t-shirt now, that’s just a little too tight against his torso.

“Why don’t you join us?” Kitty says without thinking it through. “Stevie’s going for Connie, I’ll need a partner once he ditches me.”

Tom looks down at the pavement. His lips are thin and his hands fidget by his side. “I’ve um… got something else on tonight, ‘m sorry.”

Her heart sinks. Any lighthearted hope she had about enjoying the evening dissolves right in front of her. Right, of course, because why would he actually want to spend more than a few moments with her?

“Movin’ on,” Stevie says, steering Kitty down the road with a brief farewell to Tom. “He’s no good, you know that?” he whispers in her ear. “Eddie says he nicks scrap metal from the yard, sells it to all sorts dodgy fuckers.”

“Yeah, I know,” she breathes. Her chest feels tight and suddenly she feels like she wants to cry.

Stevie has a good time at the gig. Lois and Connie are first in the lineup and once their set is over, Stevie makes a point of cheering the loudest. The four of them spend the rest of the night dancing.

When Stevie and Connie disappear outside for a smoke, Kitty drags Lois to the bar, to catch their breath and down glasses of tonic water. Lois drones on about her Harry issue, but having three older brothers who presume every word they say is profound and worthy of note, Kitty knows where to hum and nod without really listening.

They walk Connie home first before the three of them make their way to Slade Grove. The houses are quiet now, save for a few lights in the windows, creeping through drawn curtains. Two policemen are standing outside number 27.

“Have you seen your brother?” one of them calls to Lois when she reaches the door.

“No,” Lois says, “but if you see him before I do, will you tell him he’s in trouble?”

Kitty meets Stevie’s eyes and he raises his brows.

“Piss off,” she grumbles.

Mam and dad have gone to bed, but Eddie and Art are playing cards in the front room— or they should be. Eddie is standing by the window, peering through the curtains. 

“Who are they after?” Eddie asks.

“Who do you think?” Kitty mutters, but she doesn’t stay to hear another rant about ‘troublesome Tom Bennett’, and slips her shoes off before she makes her way upstairs.

It can’t be said Tom doesn’t make an impression on the people he meets. Mam and dad still have a soft spot for him, though less so since he’s started getting into trouble with the police, and the lads seem to outright despise him.

She’d be lying if she said he didn’t find him irritating, to a certain degree. Maybe it’s because he’s cocky, maybe it’s because he used to be surprisingly sweet, or maybe it’s because nothing seems to phase him, but something about Tom Bennett makes her restless.

She wipes off her lipstick, takes out the pins in her hair and changes into her nightgown. Her eyes feel heavy, but tomorrow is Sunday, which means the shop will be closed and she can have a whole day of ‘freedom’, so long as that includes helping with the laundry and the dinner.

Dad’s snores are evident and the boys are still distracted downstairs, they’ve even put the radio on by the sound of it.

She’s about to turn off the light when she hears three taps on the window.

He knows it’s unlocked. The window slides up and Tom squeezes through it, slipping his boots off so he doesn’t make too much noise when he plants his feet on the floor. He goes straight to the bed, making himself comfortable over the throw with his hands under his head.

“Lois says the police have been round,” he says quietly.

She looks down at her hands, nervously playing with the fabric of her nightgown. “I saw.”

He turns his head to where she stands. The lamp hits his face like sunlight, catching the sharp features of his face, the point of his nose and the curve of his lips. 

She nudges him closer to the wall, making some space for herself beside him. Her body rests against his. He smells like smoke and fresh air.

“What did you do this time?” she asks.

He doesn’t give her an answer. In a way she thinks she’d rather not know.

His arm falls around her and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Nights with him are often like this, quiet, just two people existing in the same space.

He turns on his side to face her. “Can I stay the night?”

“Tom,” she whispers, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Please, or I’ll have to sleep on a couch in the pub.”

“Are you mad? can you imagine what Eddie’ll do if he sees you walking out my bedroom in the morning?”

“Kitty,” he hums. He brings his hand to her face, gently stroking his thumb over her cheek. His eyes are wide and pleading. “Please.”

It’s in moments like this when she hates Tom the most, when her heart thrums in her chest and she wants nothing more than to lose herself in the feeling of his skin against hers. When their heads are so close together, all she sees are two blue eyes.

Each time she thinks she wants to close the distance between them, something stops her.

Neither of them ever dare to move closer than this.

She reaches to turn off the light and turns back to Tom. Her head falls into his chest and her arm settles around his waist. She falls asleep to the pulse of his heartbeat, the sound of his breath and the warmth of his body.

And by the time the sun shines in through the window, he’s gone.

Sunday 3rd September, 1939

She appears in the kitchen just after 11 o’clock. Her body feels heavy and her eyes are still tired. She shouldn’t have gone back to sleep after she woke up the first time.

Dad’s fiddling with the radio, Art’s pouring tea into six cups, and Eddie and mam are listening to Steive’s retelling of the previous night. He seems incredibly proud of himself, despite the fact the closest he came to kissing Connie was lighting her cigarette.

She helps Art with the tea. They all like it the same way. Strong, with one sugar and a little dash of milk. 

It might almost be a perfect morning, if dad were listening to something more uplifting than the news.

“How about some music?” she says as she hands him his cup, but he doesn’t take it. His eyes are fixed on the radio, and his hands are shaking.

“Dad…”

Art appears over her shoulder and turns up the volume. “Quiet,” he says, and the others fall silent.

A voice speaks through the crackles in the transmission, “consequently, this country is at war with Germany.”

Kitty looks at the faces around her, Eddie and Art glaring furiously, Stevie’s wide eyes and his lips fallen like a child’s, mam and dad’s haunted sorrow.

The transmission ends and she wishes it didn’t, it would save her from the grave silence in the house.

She decides to make herself busy. She washes out an empty milk bottle and goes to leave it by the door.

When she opens the door the two policemen are back, only now they’re walking out of the Bennetts’ house.

Her heart sinks. They have Tom in handcuffs.

His eyes meet hers across the road. He doesn’t make a fuss, or try to protest. He hangs his head as they walk him down the street.

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All stories are female reader insert. If I decide to do something different, I will put clear notes.

☣Ewanverse Characters.☣

HOTD Aemond Targaryen (Canon Era)

HOTD Aemond Targaryen (Modern)

Trigger Point Billy Washington

High Life Ettore

The Halycon Billy Taylor

The Last Kingdom Osferth

Salad Days Will

Saltburn Michael Gavey

World on Fire Tom Bennett

Grantchester Abraham

☣Miscellaneous Characters☣

HOTD Aegon Targaryen

HOTD Daemon Targaryen

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Hello! This is the Masterlist page for my 17-part Ewanverse Series titled: Mitchell Apartments! This series includes 11 of Ewan's most prominent characters and does take place in the modern world!

Summary: You manage to finally get an apartment, the rent isn't cheap and you know you'll have to overwork yourself to afford it but you have no other choice. You can't go home and you can't afford to go anywhere else. It's quiet and lonely in the beginning but you soon make some connections with the other tenants, and you manage to get yourself into some trouble too.

Can you survive living in this new area? Or will you be packing up and moving before the year's up? What could go wrong? They just want to be friendly.

Fandom(s): House of The Dragon, Salad Days, Grantchester, The Halycon, Fire, World on Fire, Saltburn, The Las Kingdom, Trigger Point, High Life, and Doctors

Warnings: These fics will include dubcon, manipulation, & violence More specific warnings will be added to individual chapters! 18+ only fic!

If you wish to be added to the taglist please comment on this!

Chapter 1: "Moving In"

Chapter 2: "Bitter" (Will x Reader)

Chapter 3: "Babysitter" (03/16)

Chapter 4: "Gentle" (Jack x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 5: "Confident" (Billy Washington x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 6: "Trouble in Paradise" (TBD)

Chapter 7: "Filthy" (Abraham x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 8: "Good Boy" (Osferth x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 9: "New Beginning" (TBD)

Chapter 10: "Date Night" (Tom Bennett x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 11: "Good Neighbor" (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 12: "Pop Quiz" (TBD)

Chapter 13: "Flustered" (Billy Taylor x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 14: "Nerd" (Micheal Gavey x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 15: "Laundry" (TBD)

Chapter 16: "Easy Money" (Genyen x Reader) (TBD)

Chapter 17: "Rent" (Ettore x Reader) (TBD)

A/N: If not mentioned in chapters I wish to reiterate something. All characters that partake in any sexual content (even fluff) are 18+. No one is underage. If you as a reader are underage I beg of you to not read this! If I knew how to sniff you guys out and block you I would.

If you decide to not listen to me please understand you are responsible for your own consumption. No Parents should be attempting to get my account taken down because of your choices!

PLEASE READ: I would also like to say. These stories are not meant to be taken any specific way. I say this because I worry how people will react to her sleeping with ALL of her neighbors. This was honestly just for funsies and if I see any serious slut shaming comments you're getting blocked.

Honourable Mentions: @thought--bubble Jess is honestly the whole reason I started writing in the first place! Her Kitty Cat Series inspired me to write my own Ettore fic which has led me here today. Thank you Jess for feeding my delusions and being a source of inspiration!

MaximumWill (NSFW! LINKS) Patreon & Soundgasm You guys may think this is odd...but I gotta credit him. I do not believe he has Tumblr but I have linked to his patreon. He is an 18+ audio maker...(if you know what I mean 😏🍆) He is the inspiration for the Micheal Chapter with this audio & the inspiration for this ENTIRE series + the Ettore chapter with this audio. (Please do not judge me...Im already ashamed🫠🫣)

#ewan mitchell verse #ewan nation #ewanverse #ettore x reader #ettore high life #ewan mitchell fanfic #ettore #ettore smut #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #tom bennett smut #tom bennet x reader #tom bennett #genyen #micheal gavey #micheal gavey x reader #micheal gavey smut #osferth #baby monk #osferth smut #osferth x reader #will x reader #will salad days fic #will salad days fanfic #abraham grantchester #abraham fan fic

[happilyhertale]

A spark of hope – Tom Bennett x female!reader

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Misogyny

Author’s note: Your life is always the same - you help your mother out in the pub and earn money from other activities on the side. But at some point, you reach a point where maybe you don't want to do all that anymore.

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (: Word count: 3.9k

Other stories of mine

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Cigarette smoke envelops you, but you move through it almost elegantly, empty glasses in your hand. Tonight is busy, but that also means there will be a lot of tipping. Music blares from the jukebox as you're back in the safety of your counter. You stand behind it and start cleaning the glasses you just collected. As the door to the pub swings open and more drunk young guys stumble in. They laugh and you don't really understand what they are saying before they burst out laughing again. When the blond one of the guys comes towards you.

"Good evening, milady," he says, visibly drunk. You can already tell how annoyed you are, but you smile nonetheless.

"What can I do for you?" you ask with feigned friendliness.

He grins, "Well... First, I'd settle for a beer," he slurs. You turn away smiling, but sigh as you draw his beer. You ignore his next attempts to make you laugh. Practiced by all the other guys who keep trying to get your attention, you have no problem with it. Besides, your end of the day is approaching and that clearly depresses your mood, but distracts you. Your colleague comes in and you sigh, but you nod at her and smile. Maria walks past tables on her way to the counter, taking away empty glasses as she goes. But before you can have a conversation with her, the door opens again. The blond guy is still watching you. But now you have work to do. You grab your stuff and walk up to the man who has just entered the pub. He puts his arm around your waist almost naturally and leads you out.

He lies on top of you, his hips thrusting into you again and again. His deep moans don't make it any better. But you're moaning too, trying to spur him on so he can finish. When he looks into your face, you close your eyes with passion and moan loudly, showing him how good he is. He moans loudly and grunts as he reaches his climax. He breathes heavily but rolls off you. He lies next to you, his eyes closed as he tries to catch his breath again. Your gaze is fixed on the ceiling, trying to feel a comforting sensation inside you, or at least push away the shame. When you hear a soft snore, you slowly stand up. You don't look back and quickly disappear into the bathroom to freshen up. Even faster you get dressed and take the money from the table. Quietly you leave the flat. You walk through the dark streets. It is warm and a gentle breeze blows around you as you look up. You see individual windows that are brightly lit. The lights have an almost calming effect on you. As you reach your house, you open the door. Your eyes fall into the kitchen, where your mother is sitting at the kitchen table. She is drinking a cup of tea and almost relaxed, smoking a cigarette.

"Oh, you're still awake?" you ask your mother. You put the money on the table.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep," she says to you. She crosses her legs slightly and lets one leg bob.

"Oh, is that your tip? Keep that to yourself... You earned it," your mom says to you, looking up at you.

You hesitate, but then smile, "Nah, that's the leftover money from babysitting," you lie to your mom.

"Met Paul on the way home and he gave it to me" you say and slowly walk out of the kitchen.

"Oh well... All right... sleep well, little one," your mother calls after you.

You give her a gentle smile before retreating into the cosy confines of your room. As you prepare to lie down in your warm bed, your thoughts inexplicably drift to the memory of the forward and somewhat annoying person you met earlier in the pub. Although you cannot explain why he is so preoccupying you at this moment, you simply roll onto your side and surrender to the soothing call of sleep.

The next evening, you're back in the pub. You hang around for a while and serve the usual guests. But the conversations and loud laughter that fill the pub don't really pull you out of your thoughts.

Until the guy from yesterday enters the pub again and you sigh slightly. He walks up to you and grins.

"Hello my beautiful," he says.

You look at him wordlessly. Out of sheer habit, you try to read from his gaze what he really wants from you. Does he just want to be nice or does he want to become a next customer?

"What can I do for you?" you ask him with feigned friendliness.

"Well, that depends on what ya can give me," he says cheekily. You look at him slightly irritated, but before you can answer, he interrupts you.

"Ah, just give me a Guinness," he says. This clear and unintentional answer leaves you speechless for a moment. But you clear your throat and comply with his request.

„A pint of Guinness? On the way“, you say and turn around.

You serve him a Guinness and watch as he hesitantly clasps the glass with his hand.

"My name's Tom, by the way," he says with a smile.

"Well, hello Tom," you say, watching his face contort as he drinks his Guinness. You have to laugh slightly, "Don't you like Guinness?" you ask.

"Not really," he says and bravely takes another sip

"Then why are you ordering it?" you ask with a laugh, wanting to put him out of his misery. But as you reach for the beer, he playfully pushes your hand away.

"Hands off," he says with a smile.

"This will ensure that I don't finish the beer so quickly and stay sitting here longer," he says with a slight wink.

You blush slightly but laugh lightly anyway.

"You're silly," you say, but have to smile slightly.

"I never said otherwise," Tom says, drinking again with a disgusted look on his face.

You have to laugh again and Tom smiles at you. A hint of joy is written on his face as he hears you laugh.

"Do you have a name too?" he asks you after taking another sip.

You smile at him, "Y/n," you tell him.

"Hello y/n," Tom says, "Have a drink with me," he says.

But you shake your head slightly, "No... Not while I'm working," you say with a smile.

And tonight you have a lot to do. Almost countless guests are pouring into the pub and the prospect of making it alone seems almost impossible. But with unwavering determination, you dance back and forth between the tables, deftly noting the orders and clearing away the empty glasses. In the midst of this hustle and bustle, Tom remains steadfast, his fingers holding the glass of Guinness, and his eyes never taking his eyes off your tireless performance.

As the evening draws to a close and the tide of guests gradually ebbs, a palpable sigh of relief escapes your lips. But just as you toy with the idea of locking up, the door swings open again, announcing the arrival of an unexpected guest. Instinctively, you consider simply saying you were about to close up, but as you turn around, you find yourself frozen in shock for a moment.

‚Not him again...‘ you think.

The guy smiles at you, "Hi sweetie..." he just says and you sigh.

You turn around to Tom, who is still sitting there, and try to smile slightly.

"I have to go, Tom…," you say quietly.

Tom's gaze lingers on you and finally settles on the man who has just entered the pub. But you see Tom nod slightly. But still, you recognize the subtle nuances in Tom's facial expression that betray an unmistakable dislike, a deep lack of trust toward the guy.

Tom rises slowly and leans forward slightly. He presses a tender kiss to your cheek. In that fleeting moment, you feel the gentle caress of his breath, causing a subtle tingling sensation. It's such a tender sensation that you instinctively bite your lip, an intimate reaction hidden from all but the keenest observers.

"Until next time," he says softly.

You nod slightly as he walks past you and the guy and leaves the pub.

The guy grins at you, "Another customer?" he says to you.

"I don't talk about my business," is all you say to him.

You leave the pub and follow the guy to his flat. And again, the time with him is just uncomfortable. He is just disgusting and manages to make you feel disgusted with yourself. He never shows any consideration for you and this time is no different. You lie on the bed and he lies on top of you with his heavy body. He thrusts hard into you and grunts to himself, but not in a way that would increase your arousal. You bite your lip to keep from crying out, but you have a feeling that's exactly what he wants. When he suddenly leans back slightly and looks you in the face, you don't know at first what he wants from you. Until he slaps you across the face and you are sure that is exactly what he wants - to make you scream. You gasp, your face hurts, but you don't give him the satisfaction.

"Don't slap me," you hiss back at him. But he only grabs your throat in response and grunts again. Your eyes grow wide as he squeezes and thrusts into you like crazy. Breathing becomes difficult and you feel panic rising in you, but you can't scream. The hand on your throat makes it impossible for you to let anything but a whimper come out of you. Your hand finally reaches for his, you try to pull it away from your neck. But you seem powerless. Distantly you perceive his light laughter, his thrusts don't let up and you notice how you become sore.

Suddenly you hear him moan loudly and climax. He breathes heavily and you notice how his thrusts subside and his hand around your neck loosens slightly. While he is overwhelmed by his feelings, you don't hesitate for long and push him off you.

"Hey...", he says still breathing heavily. But you hurriedly get dressed as tears come to your eyes. You take the money from the table and leave the flat.

You hurry home and pass your mother without a word. You can't even tell if she spoke to you.

Without a moment's hesitation, you are drawn to the bathroom and the urge for a shower overcomes you. The night hangs on you like a shroud, and you had hoped that the warm stream of water would wash away the burden weighing on your soul. As you surrender to the water's gentle embrace, however, you quickly realize that the longed-for soothing effect fails to materialize. With your eyes closed, you lean against the cool, unyielding tiles of the shower, and your body slowly sinks to the floor. Tears bubble up, mirroring the gentle surge of water that envelops you. At this vulnerable moment, you can no longer bear the weight of your existence and silently plead for release.

The water has grown cold by now, and your tears are also beginning to stop. You muster the strength to reach up and turn off the water. You step out of the shower and wrap your body in the comforting embrace of a soft towel.

As you finally snuggle into the warm sanctuary of your bed, enveloped, your thoughts are still spinning. But the embrace of sleep, hopefully giving you comfort in the quiet of the night, soon envelops you.

The next evening you are again behind the bar of the pub. The absence of Tom casts a shadow over your heart, a faint hint of melancholy. But duty calls, and you resolve to excel once again, if only to escape for a moment the burden of your overwhelming thoughts. Your gaze, however, inevitably wanders to the spot where Tom sat the night before.

As you say goodbye to the last of your guests after hours of work and walk back to the counter, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. You begin to tend to the few remaining glasses, seeking solace in the mundane rhythm. But then the door swings open again, and you instinctively glance over your shoulder. There he stands, the obnoxious guy, and an unsettling sense of panic spreads through you.

"Today I have no time for you," you say immediately, without waiting to see what he even wants.

But he just smiles, "Oh come on... Yesterday was good, wasn’t it? I enjoyed it..," he says.

"And I don't care, I don't have time today," you say simply. You go behind the counter and start washing the glasses.

He comes closer. Very close. "Oh come on... I could tell you liked it," he says quietly, grinning at you with his crooked smile

You look at him angrily, "I don't know what kind of world you live in. But certainly not one where you could say what pleases a woman," you say.

He slaps you again. You gasp as your face flies to the side. The pain from last night is palpable in your face again.

"You like that, don't you, you whore," he just hisses, "You can't do more than spread your thighs."

"Get the fuck out of here, you bastard," you suddenly hear another voice say.

You look at the door, startled, breathing heavily. The pain has brought tears to your eyes. Your vision is blurred, but Tom is standing there and he doesn't look pleased at all.

The guy turns around, "Get out of here, kid. Wait your turn," he just says unimpressed.

"Oh I think it's my turn," Tom says even louder. He walks up to the guy and grabs him by the collar. The guy turns and gives Tom a swinging punch. You gasp and yell out slightly. Tom stumbles back a little, looking even angrier. His nose is bleeding slightly, but he walks back up to the guy and headbutts him. You hear it crack and slap your hand over your mouth.

"Don't ever touch her again," Tom hisses. He rams his knee into his soft parts so that the guy goes down. He only gasps and cries out slightly. He holds his balls and whimpers.

Tom grabs him by the collar and drags him towards the exit. He gives him another kick and thus transports him outside. You hear him breathing heavily and he closes the door.

He turns to you and sees the look on your face.

"Are ya okay?" he asks you. You nod slightly and reply, "I should be asking you that," you whisper. You take a dish towel and walk towards him. Carefully you dab away the blood, he smiles sheepishly.

"It's nothing," he says softly.

You take his hand and lead him behind the counter. He sits down on a chair and lets you treat him. He watches you closely.

"Who was that," he finally asks. You hesitate at first, afraid he'll find out what you're doing. That he might see you through different eyes.

"Just someone I know," you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. He nods, barely noticeable. When the blood is wiped from his face, you look at him. He grins slightly again.

"What is it?" you ask

"Let me take ya out," he says cheekily.

You laugh lightly.

"No Tom. You don't want that," you say to him. You try to avoid his gaze and feel your chest tighten slightly. As his voice rings out, your gaze meets his blue eyes.

"Why wouldn't I want that?" he whispers, sounding curiously.

"Because... that wouldn't work Tom," you simply say and throw the bloody dish towel into the next corner. But you can still feel his gaze on you.

"Well, as long as I don't have to drink any more Guinness, I don't see why it wouldn't work," he says.

You just look at him, but the smile does not disappear from his face, "That would be the least of your problems," you say quietly.

Tom scrutinises your face for a moment. The way you avoid his gaze and your eyebrows draw together slightly for a brief moment and your brow furrows briefly.

He clears his throat slightly.

"You slept with him, didn't you?" he asks quietly, "For money?" he adds quietly, watching your reaction closely. His gaze does not leave you. Your breath catches in your throat, leaving you wordless for a moment. A blush of shame turns your cheeks scarlet.

"What..? Tom... it's not like that" you stammer.

Tom says nothing for a moment and you fear that he is already judging you.

"You don't know what it's like," you say suddenly.

"When my father died and left me and my mother with this pub.... We have trouble paying all the bills and my mom does so much for me... She gave up so much just to be able to give me a good life..." you say justifying

"And so the least I can do is try to give her something back... Earn some money and..." but you can't continue. Tom silences you with his lips.

You are startled at first, but surrender to his soft lips. Suddenly you feel so close to him as he gets up from the chair and wraps his arms around you. The way your mouths meet is electrifying, his tongue touches yours and makes you whimper slightly. You don't want to miss those lips any more.

"It's okay..." he whispers against your lips after some time.

You look him in the eyes and breathe a little heavily. You cannot believe his words. You need a little time to process his words.

"It's okay...?" you say quietly.

He nods, "It's okay..." he says softly.

He gently caresses your cheek, "And to me, you are so much more than a lady who can spread her thighs," he says softly, smiling slightly.

His slight smile is reflected on your lips. Again, he kisses you. His hand slides into your hair, holding your head gently. "So much more..." he whispers against your lips.

You feel his other hand slide to your hip. He presses you against his body. Your arms slide around his neck as his other hand finds your hip as well. With one movement, he sets you on your counter and you gasp slightly.

"Tom," you gasp, but he silences you with his lips again.

You wrap your legs around his waist as his hands slide along your thighs. His fingertips leave a trail of heat on your soft skin. You gasp slightly as his hands slide under your dress. He looks at you, his lips slightly parted, almost as if he is asking your permission. But instead of answering, you let your lips meet his.

Your breathing becomes heavier and suddenly it seems infinitely hot behind the counter. You feel his hand slide to the inside of your thigh and you whimper lightly against his lips. He grips lightly and you feel the pulsation between your legs.

"Tom..." you whimper lightly and you feel a grin forming on his lips. But he doesn't hesitate for long and reaches your wet panties. He presses his fingers against them and you cannot suppress a moan. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to press your hips further against his hand.

"Hmhm, a little needy, eh?" you hear him whisper. A hiss from him follows as you bite his lip lightly.

And suddenly he pushes your panties aside and lets his fingers slide inside you.

"Well, I shouldn't keep ya waiting then," he murmurs as you moan again.

You let your lips collide with his again and your tongues dance wildly around each other. His fingers work their way into you faster as your fingers work their way around his belt. You try to undo his belt, despite the distraction, and finally manage it. Without hesitation you open his trousers and they slide down his legs. A deep rumble rises in his chest as you slide your hand into his pants. You feel his hard member twitch as you embrace it. Your hand slides up and down as if by itself.

His breathing quickens and you feel the precum already gathering at the tip of his cock. You rub it gently and hear him growl again. Your kiss becomes a little more aggressive and he pulls you closer to him. His fingers don't let up in their thrusts and you feel your thighs begin to tremble as his thumb rubs your sensitive pearl.

But then he pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his hot length. Slowly he penetrates you and stretches you bit by bit. You press your face into the crook of his neck as the almost painful feeling turns into pure pleasure. You gasp and moan slightly. Your teeth find their way to his neck and you bite lightly.

Tom's hands slide to your bottom, pressing you further against him as his hips slam against yours.

You are completely in sync, the only sound in the pub is your breathing and the sounds you create together. You are both panting now as your movements become faster and more animalistic.

He hits the sweet spot inside your depths and you moan out. You lean back slightly and watch him thrust into you again and again. His face contorts into a mixture of effort and lust. You hear his heavy breathing and grunts leave him.

You hear every sound, every gasp, every slap of your skin against each other. In the depths of this moment, Tom fixes his gaze with yours, an unspoken declaration that in this fleeting moment his entire universe is focused on a single point: you. The woman who embodies his deepest desires - who he wants more than anything.

But this moment is interrupted when his hands suddenly leave your bottom and slide onto your knees. He moves one of your legs to the side while he brings the other to his shoulder.

"God, Tom!" you moan as you feel his thrusts even deeper. But you only hear his grunts, which never fade.

You brace yourself against the counter with your arms as he penetrates you deeper and deeper.

"Fuck, yea," Tom growls as he feels your pussy begin to clench around his cock. You can't help but whimper and moan and give in to the sensation.

You cry out a little as he pushes you over the edge and the warmth floods you. Your torso falls back a little and his hand slides to your back to hold you in place. He fucks you through your orgasm, pursuing his own climax. When suddenly he groans and squints his eyes. His thrusts become more sloppy as he coats your walls with his seed.

He gasps and thrusts as his thrusts slowly subside. You look at each other, heavily atment. Until you giggle lightly. You lean forward again and kiss him, feeling the light film of sweat over his lip.

"You’re so much more to me…", he whispers against your lips as he pulls you closer again.

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Tag list:

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @bellaisasleep @snh96 @bcon24 @valeskafics echos-muses

#tom bennett #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett smut #tom bennett fluff #world on fire #lois bennett #ewan mitchell #tom bennett x reader #tom bennet x reader #tom bennett world on fire #ewan mitchell characters #ewan nation #tom bennett fic #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x female reader

[myfandomprompts]

𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟏)

Synopsis: You are a French girl that had the opportunity to teach in Manchester, and you had been lucky enough to be granted a bed at the Bennett’s place. As Europe is on the brink of war, you start to worry for your family back at home, and you are surprisingly consoled by the one man of the house you would never have thought capable of landing you an ear. It’s not that you like Tom, is it? Masterlist

Tags: fluff, angst, little slow burn, next part will include more tags (wink)

It was late, and you were in the Bennett’s living room, unable to sleep and because you didn’t want to bother Lois who was already sound asleep upstairs with your light, you had chosen to read on the couch, literature distracting you.

It has been three wonderful months in Manchester. The place was lovely, the people welcoming, the school you had begun to teach at everything you hoped for, and the Bennetts were absolutely adorable with you. Douglas was sweet, and had many stories to tell, Lois was kind and funny, and you two had got along pretty quickly. Even Tom, when he was around, was making efforts to be as delightful and troublesome as usual.

You had found the place by your connections, your brother playing in a band with a trumpeter named Eddie, whose wife happened to be Lois’s best friend. And now you were sharing the bedroom upstairs with her, having taken Tom’s bed as he now slept on the couch. He had not complained once about it.

The first time you met him, he had entered the house mere minutes after you had arrived, having just finished introducing yourself to his father and sister. You heard him before seeing him. “So, the reason I have to sleep on the couch from now has arrived, eh?”

His tone was playful, but you still felt guilty nonetheless as you turned around to see the infamous Tom, slightly blushing when you saw the tall blond-haired man in front of you, his blue eyes widening faintly as he met yours.

“Tom, be nice,” Lois had said. “This is Y/N.”

You had greeted him shyly, not sure how to act with him as you jokingly apologised for the loss of his bed, but his grin had just grown wider and he had chuckled.

“Christ, are they all this pretty in France? I should pay them a visit, I would be a very happy lad there.”

Douglas had sighed while Lois rolled her eyes, and you had not known how to react back then watching him laugh again before going upstairs with a wink to his sister, satisfied with the way your cheeks had turned pink.

But now that you had been his flirtatious self for over three months, you had grown used to his witty remarks and knew better than to take them seriously. You got along pretty well in fact. One day you had stumbled upon him in the kitchen as he played with a deck of cards, and had offered to teach you how to play. You had never seen someone as skilled with his hands as he was, and you wondered now if this particular talent had anything to do with the two weeks he had spent in prison lately. Regardless, you had spent a wonderful afternoon with him that day.

It was a stark contrast with your current situation, reading late and laying on the couch with the oil lamp as sole light, finding the activity the only efficient distraction from the thoughts that prevented you from sleeping at night. You were quite the anxious person, and since the news that Poland had surrendered and that Europe was on the brink of war, you had grown concerned for your family back in France. The word out was that Western Europe would be next and your family was living too close to the German border for you not to be concerned. The fact that you had not received any letters from any members of your family in a whole week did nothing to appease that worry. So instead of sleep, reading it was, and you were so focused on your book that you did not hear the front door open softly and you jumped when you saw a figure standing in the threshold of the living room.

“Mon Dieu… You scared me!” you gently scolded as you brought your hand to your chest, steadying your heartbeat.

“Sorry love, didn’t mean to,” came the quick response of Tom, fully dressed with his overcoat, his cheeks slightly pink from the cold he had just escaped from.

“Where do you come from this late?” you inquired, shivering as you felt the draught reach you as he took his coat off.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Are you still scrapping for metal, Tom? Can I finally have that tin man you’re building?” you teased as you echoed Lois, watching him as he made his way to the chair across from you, lazily dropping in it and lighting a cigarette between his lips.

“Lois talks too much,” he answered, smoke coming out of his mouth as he spoke. “And you won’t find me doing that again. Don’t plan on going back in a cell this soon.”

He winked at you, but the only thing now on your mind was what Douglas had announced to you this morning. “I heard… Conscientious objector, uh? Your father must be proud, you already have the genes for pacifism.”

“I doubt that. I’m not really into what he believes in so…” his voice was low, contemplative. “Sooner or later, I’ll still be a disappointment. No surprises there.”

“Don’t say that, I know he is proud of you. At least he is glad you’re not on the mend any more. Or in the army.”

“Yeah…I’m a real hero.”

You frowned, saddened by his words but you found nothing to say as he reached for the ashtray next to him. You hoped that one day the man before you would see his worth.

“So, can’t sleep?” he kept on, putting an end to the topic as you stared at the way the smoke passed his lips. “Why are you in the cold like that?”

“I just… thought I would have some reading done,” you half-lied, raising the book in your hands. “But don’t let me keep you from a good night’s sleep. You look like you need it.”

Tom’s demeanour shifted at that and a grin appeared on his lips, looking you over. “Well, I would, but since you’re sitting where I sleep…”

Your eyes widened as you suddenly remembered that he had taken the couch because of you. And now you robbed him of it as well. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that, I was just enjoying the living room... I’ll leave you be,” you said with slight embarrassment, closing your book and moving to get up.

“No, stay, you're warming up my bed so nicely already, you're not going to abandon me now, are you?" he teased, a sly smile on his lips as his face lit up. "There is enough space for both of us on this couch if we keep close."

The stern look you gave him at his inappropriate proposition amused him for a moment, but soon his anxious and serious expression returned, "No, honest, despite what you think I look like, I'm not tired. So stay. Please."

You hesitated, sensing that like you, he might use the company, but you still did not want to be a bother. He talked again before you could come to a decision.

“I know you read when you’re anxious, so tell me what’s bothering you. Why you can’t sleep.”

You were surprised for a second by the fact that he knew this about your personality, feeling something in your heart tingle as his blue eyes examined yours, waiting for your answer. "It’s nothing, it’s just, passing insomnia.”

He took another puff of smoke, not believing you for a second, “Worrying about your folks, are you?” he said as you lowered your gaze at your hands and nodded. You didn’t know Tom could be this perceptive, or that his eyes could have that softness you've never noticed before. “They’ll be fine. These Nazis won’t be able to do much if we have a say in it,” he stated, looking at how your pretty eyes had suddenly turned morose. 

He didn’t want that. “What if they do anyway? Look at Poland, we weren’t prepared and now here we are. They don’t look like they are gonna stop there. Finland is-”

“You listen to the wireless too much. It’s always bad news nowadays, no point in listening to it if it makes you sad.”

You gave him a sorry smile, internally touched at his simplistic way of seeing things. “Stop listening to the news won’t make Germany stop invading its neighbouring countries Tom,” you replied softly, trying to ignore the way your heart ached at the thought. “What has happened is already so horrifying, I can’t even begin to imagine what it would look like if they really go all the way through with it.”

You felt tears come at the rim of your eyes against your will as you let the words you dreaded to say come out loud. Your lack of sleep was making you prone to strong emotions, and you had kept them hidden for a little too long. “It’s just… so scary. What if I can’t go back, or something happens while I’m here? They feel so far away! What if I end up never seeing them again? What if I have made a mistake coming here?” you went on, voice cracking and barely holding your tears. 

Tom had straightened up on his chair. “Of course you’ll see them again,” he firmly said, but when he saw your teary eyes his voice turned soft, and he stood up at once. “Hey it’s alright. You’re alright love. C’me here.”

You watched him come over and sit beside you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you gently against him. You blinked at his sudden display of affection but did nothing against it, leaning into him as he pulled you closer, allowing you to rest your head against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, and you clung to the sound.

“Nothing will happen to them,” he whispered. “If they are half as smart as you are, nothing will get them. Trust me.”

His breath was tickling the side of your face as he talked. You giggled softly, now finding pathetic the way you had reacted due to your lack of sleep. “Thank you, Tom. You’re sweet when you want to,” you whispered, feeling your eyelids slowly flutter from the fatigue.

“I’m always sweet. You’re just not around often enough to witness it.”

“Then I am clearly missing out...”

Then it went dark, and you fell asleep in Tom’s arms. “Not as much as I am, Y/N.”

Tom watched you as your breathing became even, hand itching to prevent a strand of your hair from falling over your pretty face. Had it been anyone else, he would have woken you up and made you go to bed to be more comfortable, but as the minutes passed, he gradually abandoned the idea of moving even an inch as you felt amazingly warm over him. He gently took your book away from your lap before putting the cover over your form and leaned back against the couch, finding a comfortable position of his own.

Your peaceful expression suited you, he thought.

Sunlight filtered through the windows directly into your eyes, and you blinked yourself awake, the smell of smoke and sandalwood tickling your nose. It was nice, but as you realised from where, or from who it came from. Your face was resting against Tom, his chest rising up and down softly as he breathed and you straightened at once, the motion making him shift and blink in turn beneath you. You stayed still while you forced your memories from the previous night to come back. Tom lazily stretched his arm over him before dozing into sleep again. Oh no no no.

“Réveille-toi espèce de-” you scolded, hitting him on the shoulder to urge him awake. “Why didn’t you wake me up! We would both have been better off in our own beds!”

“Hey, easy!” he protested with a giggle, now fully awake and trying to take a hold of your wrists to stop you from punching him. “You’re the one that fell asleep on me, in my bed, and I’m not the one complaining here, love!”

His amused expression annoyed you more than it should have and you cursed in frustration, realising that you had to get ready for work very soon. You were glad that neither Douglas or Lois had woken up early to see you like that.

“If I’m late for school, it’s on you,” you warned, getting rid of the covers he had apparently put over you during the night and pointing an accusing finger at him, standing up to walk upstairs.

“What, I don’t even get a cup of tea as a reward for being your pillow? I clearly deserve it,” he taunted, taking his jumper off and looking at you expectantly.

You sighed, “Fine. But stop guilt trapping me. You still should have woken me up, I’m sure your muscles are killing you right now. No, I hope they are."

“My muscles are fine, thank you. And I would never have dared to wake you up, you seemed so relaxed in my arms, I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

His grin was enticing but you escaped it by fleeing into the kitchen and processing to make you and him some tea, taking care in adding milk, a thing you had learned British people liked, and you brought one of the hot cups back to him. He was now comfortably laying under the covers, ready to fall asleep again, but he straightened up to take the beverage from your hands, satisfied with the way your nose flared in frustration. But even though you seemed vexed, it did not reflect your thoughts in the least

“Thank you. For listening to me last night.”

Your words made him arch his brow in surprise but his sweet smile quickly came back as he sipped his drink happily. “Anything, Y/N.”

You gave him a half a grateful smile in response before turning on your heels, heading upstairs to ready yourself for the day. Tom smiled at the way the covers were now infused with your scent, and he was glad to fall back to sleep in it.

It was your turn to buy groceries, and you had taken your time in the market today, strolling through products before heading back to the Bennett’s.

Nearing the back door, you were put face to face with a furious looking Tom, storming out of the kitchen and almost bumping into you as you set down your bike against the wall of the small alley. He barely apologised and disappeared into the street. You stayed stunned by the encounter for a moment before cautiously making your entrance in the house where Douglas was sitting at the table, a dismayed expression on his face while Lois was ironing.

“What was that?” you asked, looking between the two. They looked at each other before Douglas spoke.

“Tom enrolled in the Navy.”

You dropped your bags of groceries on the floor. “The Navy? But… what about civil work?” you asked, stupefied.

“Yeah… He is not doing that any more. He changed his mind.”

You glanced at Lois who gave you a sorry look. No wonder Tom looked so upset and Douglas so sullen. “I’ll… find him.”

It had not been very difficult to find Tom. You had strolled around the neighbourhood before deciding to head to the local pub, almost certain that you would find him there. And it did not fail.

As you entered, immediately noticing his back turned to you, elbows on the counter at the front. You made your way to him across the crowd and settled yourself beside him, looking at his now almost empty glass of beer.

“Can I please have the same thing but smaller?” you called out to the barman, making Tom acknowledge your presence for the first time. 

He examined you briefly before reporting his gaze on his glass. “Did Lois send you?”

You shook your head. “No, I came on my own. You should not be alone.”

He nodded, taking his glass of beer and emptying it in one gulp.

“So… the Navy, uh?” you tried.

He licked his lips and proceeded to play with the edge of his now empty glass, jaw clenching a bit. “What, are you gonna tell me I made the wrong choice too? Didn’t know you were this much into pacifism. With your folks and all.”

“No, it’s not like that Tom, it’s just a little difficult for your father at the moment. I don’t want you to leave, but it does not mean that I don’t understand your choices.”

His eyes shot up at you as you were handed your drink, not noticing how Tom didn’t draw his gaze away from you as you ingested the cold liquid, warming your throat in the process. When you put down your glass, Tom was still looking at you, a triumphant grin on his face.

“My my, are you saying that you’ll miss me or do my ears deceive me tonight?”

You blushed, opening your mouth to try to think of a witty response. You found none. “Just… Be serious for a minute and listen to what I have to say,” you managed, and he groaned in frustration, ordering another drink as you continued. “Your father loves you, that is why he is so upset. He just… doesn’t want his boy to go away. He lived it himself, he knows how it is, he is scared for you.”

He only made an annoyed sound as he took a sip of beer again, a defiant expression on his face. You try not to question why your eyes had been briefly drawn to his Adam's apple as he drank.

“If you leave things as they are with your father, you’ll regret it. I know you will,” you kept on, willing to not let his pride take the better of him. “When do you leave?”

“In a week,” he replied. “First to Liverpool for training and then off to wherever they send me.”

You bit your lips. You had not known Tom for very long, but you knew that it was unfair that he had to go. You were terrified that war would take away all that liveliness and light he carried around. You liked that about him, even though you didn’t show it.

“At least you’ll get to travel,” you shrugged jokingly, but your heart was not in it. Tom however, seemed to find his humour back.

“That’s true. Maybe to France, who knows? Always dreamed to see if they are all like you there, or if you're some miraculous exception. I hope they are not as serious as you, though, I would be very disappointed.”

You let out a fake scandalised sound. “Me, serio-! That’s not very nice of you to say, Mr. Bennett! I have my moments.”

“What, is the demoiselle jealous?” he smiled, leaning closer, and you could smell the same scent you had woken to several mornings ago in the living room, but this time mixed with the smell of beer.

“No, you’re just being rude,” you replied, forgetting to move away from his ever-closing face. “And your charming smile won’t be able to get you out of my wrath if you keep depreciating me like that.”

He arched a brow, and you knew you had made a mistake. “Charming smile? Well, that’s a first. But do go on, what else do you find charming about me?”

You scoffed, unable to stop the blush from creeping onto your cheeks and chose to hide behind your drink as you took a long sip.

“C’mon, I’ll even let you say it in French, if that’s easier for you,” he pleaded, eyes glittering in mischief as he leaned closer to your ear. “I like when you speak French.”

“Tu peux toujours courir, mon beau,” you said, shaking your head with a smile. You can forget about it, handsome.

“Mhh… What does that mean?”

“It means that you, sir, have drank too fast, and that you should stop there,” you replied, ignoring the way he was now looking at your lips as they moved. “I won’t say anything, but please remember what I said. Don’t avoid your father, don’t make that mistake. Oh, and don’t come home too late," you said, dropping a few pounds on the counter.

“You’re leaving me already? It was just starting to get interesting.”

You could not repress a smile as you internally agreed. “I’m hungry, and I am cooking tonight. Maybe if you behave, I will leave some for you.”

And you turned your heels, letting him there with a lost expression as you made your way to the door, satisfied and your body a little bit too warm. Mere metres from the exit, however, you collided with someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir, I wasn’t paying attention,” you apologised, even though it was him that had not been paying any attention to his surroundings as he was talking to his group of friends.

The man turned with an annoyed expression on his face at first, but it quickly disappeared to be replaced by a cheeky smile at your sight, “No to worry miss, no harm done,” he reassured you, touching your arm in a playful manner. “Where are you from? Don’t recognise your accent.”

“Oh, I’m from France. I… didn’t know it was that obvious,” you confess, uneasy at his sudden interest and secretly wishing that you were already on your way home.

“Nah, I just have an ear for it. Staying long?”

“I work here actually. School.”

“Wonderful, it means that we will cross paths again, won’t we? I believe in fate you see, not a coincidence we met like this hon’,” he said, leaning in closer and making you take a few steps back.

You knew it had been no coincidence when his arm collided with yours harshly a minute ago, just plain inattention on his part. Your desire to escape him grew wider by the minute. “Uh, I guess we’ll see about that,” you said, trying to give him a genuine smile. “Now I’m sorry but I must go. Maybe next time!”

The tall man nodded, and you now noticed how gruff he looked. “Alrigh’, to next time then, dove.”

You shyly smiled at him before hastily opening the door and exit the pub, the cold attacking your already shivering skin.

“I work here actually. School.”

“Wonderful, it means that we will cross paths again, won’t we? I believe in fate you see, not a coincidence we met like this hon.”

Tom’s gaze had not left you for a second as he watched you leave, seeing you struggle to reach the entrance of the pub across the crowded place, and he did not miss the way you collided with loud guy either.

The man was a regular named Larry, but Tom usually called him ‘the loud guy’ as he never seemed to ever shut up. The fact was, that lad had already challenged Tom's nerves a couple of times, and his legs were now making their way to the two of you on their own. He had only heard the end of your conversation before he could get close and as you left, reassuring him, Tom was about to make his way back to the counter when he heard Larry’s boisterous voice.

“Pretty this one, and a teacher at that. She could teach me whatever she wants any time, eh?” he said to his red-haired friend next to him. “I’ll bet you she touched me on purpose, the naughty thing. She must get laid pretty easily.”

He then proceeded to have the fattest laugh Tom had ever heard, his friend on the other side only giving him an unimpressed glance, and Tom felt his blood boil.

“You want to repeat that, mate?” he defiantly said, staring straight at Larry who froze and turned at his voice.

“Repeat what? Don’t you know it’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations?”

“Well you’re not really whispering there, are ya? You wouldn’t be able to have a private conversation even if you wanted to, with your ugly mouth of yours. Or do you lack the brains to understand that?”

You were right. Maybe he had drank too fast, and maybe although he was as tall as Larry, the fact that he was twice his size did not bode well for him. But he was very crossed right now, and it wasn’t the first time he had got himself into a situation like this one. He could take it.

“Watch it lad, wouldn’t want to damage your pretty face, don’t think your mum would be happy about it, yeah? Now piss off.”

“Big words for someone who talks about women like that. Did your mum forget to teach you some manners?”

Larry’s expression turned dark. “So that’s about the French lass, huh? Frustrated she took interest in a man rather than a boy like you? You wanted a taste, am I right? Well too bad. Let the big men play and piss off.”

Tom didn’t know why this particular sentence had infuriated him that much but it did, and the next moment his fist had landed on Larry’s face, making him reel backward and growl as his nose started to bleed. Rage took him and he punched Tom back in the stomach, making him huff and gasp for air as people started to yell around them, rushing to stop the fight.

“Stop this! Or take it outside!” yelled the barman as someone held Tom back, preventing him from punching loud guy again.

“Gladly,” sneered Tom, but Larry’s friend had another opinion.

“It’s not worth it. C’mon Larry move. I said move,” he insisted, pushing his nose-bleeding mate out of the pub. Tom had tried to follow them, still enraged but the hands retaining him did not let him go until the two men had disappeared into the night.

“You’re alright lad?” asked a man to his right.

“I’m fine,” he growled, shaking the pain from his hand and feeling his torso aflame by the blow he had received.

He didn’t know why he had reacted like that, but as he returned to the counter, he had definitely sobered up.

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

Part 2

#tom bennett #wof #world on fire #tom bennet imagine #tom bennett x oc #tom bennett fanfiction #oneshot #ewan mitchell #world on fire 1x02 #wof gif #mygif #angst #short story #fluff #smut #aemond #Tom bennett X reader #gone with regret

[fan-goddess]

May I request Tom Bennett + face sitting and/or mutual masturbation, please? ♥️♥️

Authors Note: Here you go darling! To be honest I played with this a bit still i hope you enjoy it! 😊

Am I entirely satisfied though? No, no I am not. I wish it were longer and do dislike starting immediately with porn then some sorted plot, but it’s how I started it so I hope people like it more than I do

Warnings: F oral, dirty talk, fingering, teasing, m oral, use of she pronouns, (if I miss any which I know I will let me know!)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

Toms eyes were practically black with lust as they stared intensely into your own, which looked back at him with hesitance and nervousness.

Your naked body all on display for him to ogle at and admire. It’s thrilling yes, but your nerves out way it by so much you can’t help but cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself and preserve some dignity.

Ever though Tom has done so much worse to you than stare at your tits…

“Tom, I-I’m not sure about this…” You murmur, hands fiddling together as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“It’ll be fine love! You couldn’t hurt me even if you tried too. Now, come sit on your throne like your the queen of England!” Toms charm as ever, is turned to a hundred per cent. His smile alone leaves thoughts that turn the tips of your ears a deep maroon-ish red.

“Fine!” You huff, uncrossing your arms so your Tom can freely ogle at your perky tits with wide eyes.

Toms rough hands grab your thighs eagerly as he shuffles himself to lay on his back, his head resting on a pillow as you slowly move to hover yourself over Toms face. His warm breath already sending shivers down your body as his hands lock on your naked thighs eagerly pulling you to sit on his face.

“Oh god…” You whine, grabbing the headboard for stability as Toms warm wet tongue already begins to dive into your warmth and caress your special places.

“No god here missus, only me…” Tom murmurs with a grin, nuzzling his shape nose into your clit to give that extra bit of stimulation that already makes your knees want to buckle.

The nickname makes your heart flutter in fondness, but the sweetness of the moment is smothered by filthy words as one of Toms hands teases your entrance, whilst his lips suddenly sucks harshly on your throbbing clit.

You have no idea what words you manage to get out, as they’re all just heavy slurs on the tongue that slip out quickly and wantonly.

You’re hands clench so tightly on the headboard you can hear the wooden surface begin to creak from the pressure, your knuckles practically white with the amount of force your using to keep yourself from falling and dropping all your weight down.

Toms own pressure on your body though is near excruciating to feel. His tongue teeth and lips making your lower half feel like it’s on fire, and that’s not including his hands. One of which’s fingers are hitting that tough patch inside you that makes you see stars, and the others holds your upper thigh firmly to keep you steady and still as your own body tries to escape his tight punishing gasp.

The coil that seems to constantly grow and grow only gets tighter and tighter the rougher Toms use of your body is. Which is why your reaction is so wanton and loud when you feel that coil snap.

“OH SHIT TOM!” You yell, the grip on the headboard quickly moving to grip on Toms hair whilst you cum, his deep groan of pleasure causing a low sigh to sneak from your chest.

As you feel yourself practically collapse to Toms side when he releases you from his hold.

“So… did my missus enjoy her thrown?” If you didn’t love him, you would’ve backhanded him for his cocky attitude.

“Yeah love. I adored it!” You laughed, your face blushing slightly when you see his drenched chin. Your eyes widening though when they veer down and see Toms hard bulge straining in his trousers.

“Let me help with that Tommy…” You smile, shifting yourself so your sitting between toms thighs before moving to undo his belt.

“You know you don’t need to do that missus…” Tom begins to speak but his voice fails him when you pull down his trousers and begin to mouth at his covered cock.

“Fuuuuck missus…” He groans, placing a hand on the top of your head to stroke at it in praise. “Doing so fucking good for me…”

You stop for a minute to strip Tom so he’s now fully nude, and you can practically already feel your mouth already beginning to water slightly at the sight of Toms nude form. Now free for your to ogle and stare at to your hearts content.

Your hands by pure muscle memory begin to stroke and caress the various scars that litter Toms body, and your lips making sure to kiss each one tenderly and firmly.

Though when you move to kiss Toms tip and begin to slide his cock slowly into your mouth, Toms hand leaves a delicious throbbing pain behind as it tightens in your hair, and you can’t help but groan around his cock at the feeling.

His cock is too big for you to fully fit, a fact Tom can’t usually help but comment on, so your hand has to make use of what you can’t swallow. Still, by the way Toms moans and groans fill your ears, you don’t think he really minds that much…

You grin smugly around him as you already begin to taste Toms precum that starts to coat your tongue, and yet you can’t help but find yourself groaning at the taste.

“Fuckin hell missus…. Gonna make me cum in your pretty little mouth… is that what you want me to do huh? Cum down your pretty little throat and make you swallow all of me, huh?” His dirty words make you clench around nothing, and your movements quicken slightly as in your own way agree to his dirty statement.

Your head does try to nod the best it can, and when you feel Toms hand that had previously been gripping the sheets for dear life help take ahold of your head with a firm grip, you knew Tom realised your answer, and wouldn’t be playing nice from here on out.

One hand grabs at your hair in a make shift ponytail and pulls you of his cock to give you some air, whilst the other moves to wipe the drool that had spilled from you mouth with his thumb.

“What a dirty girl I have… bet she’d even let me fuck her pretty little throat till she’s crying… the wanton whorish little thing…” The dirty words mixed with Toms dark menacing glare, makes the ache between your legs all that more prominent. And it’s like some sort of daze when your head nods agreeing to Toms sinful suggestion.

“Fucking knew it…” He grins, moving your head over his cock while you allow it all to happen. Eagerly allowing your body to be limp whilst you allow Tom to control you to his wishes.

Your throat and jaw aches by the intensity of it all, and yet you power through it by breathing heavily through your nose and your mouth when you can.

You can feel Toms cock begin to throb in your mouth, and your tongue moves to trace across the vein down the side of his cock as you try to get him to cum on your mouth.

It doesn’t take long for him to do it though. The familiarly bitter yet almost strangely sweet taste bursts on your tongue, and you swallow it down dutifully and eagerly. Even smiling slightly when Tom taps on your chin and you open your lips immediately to show him your empty mouth cum stained mouth.

“Good girl…” Tom grins, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger to drag and pull you into a deep and passionate kiss.

“Only for you love…” You grin, nipping his bottom lip slightly with your teeth as you lean back giggling slightly.

“Cheeky minx…” Tom laughs, running a hand down his shaking face pretending to be annoyed by your actions.

Your eyes run down his still heavy breathing chest, and they widen slightly in amusement and disbelief when you see his cock is still half hard against his stomach.

Toms own eyes following yours with a cheeky grin, his voice as mischievous as ever. “You wanna go again love?”

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