#tom bennett imagine

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Shipping Out

Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader Warnings: Drinking, smoking, public sex, smut. Word count: ~1.5k

Summary: Just trust me on this one, and read all the way to the end.

Author's note: A little birthday treat for @bottlesandbarricades. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

The pub is crowded and noisy, the humidity of the air making her carefully coiffed curls cling to the back of her neck with perspiration. It’s not often that she frequents this side of Manchester, but the change of scenery is a refreshing switch of pace to the monotony of everyday life. Laughter, music and the clinking of glasses is preferable to the whir of the factory sewing machines.

She taps her red lacquered nails against the wood of the bar, wrinkling her nose at the stickiness of the wooden surface beneath her palm. If the frequency with which it’s wiped down is any indication of the attentiveness of the barkeep then she’s in for a long wait for a drink.

Sighing, she fishes her cigarette case from her handbag, flipping it open and plucking one out. No sooner has she placed it between her lips than a hand is clicking a flame to life before the end of it, turning it a glowing cherry red. She casts her gaze upwards through the steady plume of smoke, met by twinkling blue eyes and a cocky smirk, as the chivalrous stranger deposits his lighter back into his trouser pocket and regards her with a tip of his head.

“Thanks,” she says with an easy smile, taking the smoke between her fingers and exhaling a tight line of vapour up towards the ceiling.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies with a wink. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this then?”

God, that’s a terrible line.

She bites back a laugh, and decides to humour him. “Trying to get a drink, service in here is awful though.”

He purses his lips, eyes raking over her from head to toe, before nodding. “Can’t be having that.” Slapping a hand against the bartop, he calls out, “Oi! My lady friend and I are dying of thirst over here! Anyone serving?”

She raises her eyebrows in disbelief, but doesn’t have to wait long until a middle aged, irritated looking woman makes her way around the corner to the pair of them and grumpily takes their order. She’s long since finished her cigarette by the time the glasses are placed heavily down in front of them.

He doesn’t even ask what she wants to drink; she ends up with a gin and tonic, while he has a pint. It’s what she would have ordered anyway, but the bold presumption unsettles her regardless.

Sipping her drink, she relishes in the way the fizzy bitterness envelopes her tongue as she takes in what he’s wearing; navy blue slacks and a matching long sleeved smock, with a white striped collar.

“Shouldn’t you be on a boat somewhere, sailor?”

He grins, setting his glass down on a dog eared beer mat. “Just so happens I’ve been given a night of shore leave. I ship out again tomorrow.”

“Lucky me,” she says with a coy smile.

“If you play your cards right you might be.”

There’s that smirk again. She watches as he takes out a packet of Lucky Strike, perching one between his lips before offering one to her. She gratefully accepts, and he’s quick to light it for her, before doing the same to his own.

Every table is full, but she doesn’t mind, she’s content just to prop up the bar with him, ignoring the ache of her feet as they lapse into effortless conversation. He’s handsome, if a little overeager and she pays rapt attention as he entertains her with stories of his time aboard the HMS Exeter.

She’s on her third gin and tonic of the evening when he leans in to whisper to her.

“So, I might not see another woman for months after tonight. You gonna help me make it one to remember?”

Feeling her cheeks heat up, she giggles softly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way for you to thank me for my loyal service to our country,” he tells her, taking her hand and leading her out of the pub.

Allowing the gin to fuel her confidence, before she can change her mind, she lets him guide her outside. Even met with the sobering chill of the night air, she offers up no protest when he pulls her into the ginnel, the brickwork biting into her back as he pushes her up against the wall and captures her lips with her.

It’s a messy kiss, moist and desperate with need. He tastes of beer and tobacco as she welcomes his tongue against her own with parted lips, her fingertips sliding over the breadth of his shoulders and up into the cropped softness of his sandy coloured hair.

Pressing tighter against her, he groans appreciatively, mouth moving from hers to travel a path across her jaw and down her neck, as his hands find their way up her skirt. One teases the top of her stocking while the other presses against her clothed core, making her gasp.

His touch is hurried, not as thorough as she’d like, yet she feels a growing stickiness between her thighs regardless. The warmth of his fingers and lips against her makes her feel desired, and she is lightheaded, almost giddy, to see the effect she’s having on him.

Instinctively, she parts her legs wider as he dips beneath her knicker elastic, stroking eagerly through her folds.

“Christ, you’re soaked,” he rasps against the shell of her ear, “bet you’d let me fuck you right here, if I wanted, wouldn’t you?”

She bites her bottom lip, stifling her quiet whimper as his strokes against her cause her to throb. “Please…”

“Since you asked nicely…” He pulls back, blue eyes dark with intent as he makes quick work of unbuckling his belt, lowering his trousers and briefs just enough to free his erection.

Even in the darkness of the alleyway she can see that he’s thick and heavy, and he pumps lazily at himself, while his free hand reaches into his pocket.

“Leave that,” she tells him, as she spots the foil of the sheath wrapper.

He raises an eyebrow, pursing his lips as he stares at her. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

That’s all the confirmation he needs, slipping the packet away and surging forward. He pulls her underwear to the side, grasping the base of himself and pushes forcefully into her in one motion.

The movement knocks all the air from her lungs. Though she is wet, the public nature of their tryst leaves little time for him to prepare her fully, the luxury of time is not on their side, but in their desperation neither one of them cares. It stings, the fullness of him pushing against her, but it’s a pleasurable hurt.

Her breaths leave her mouth in shallow pants as he pistons his hips into her, lifting one of her legs to hook her thigh around his hip. She wraps her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he rocks into her, his forehead pushed up against hers.

“Filthy slut,” he grits out, “bet you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

“Y-yeah…” she whines, feeling his fingers press tighter into the meat of her thigh.

His brow furrows, and he grunts, his pace becoming sloppy and erratic. While the ache builds steadily inside of her, she worries he’ll finish before she does. The thought is fleeting, and as though he’s read her mind, the hand not gripping her thigh slips between them, fingers rubbing tight circles against her bud. She clenches around him, the added stimulation serving to intensify the tightening in her lower belly.

“That’s it,” he mutters, “come on.”

He pulsates inside of her, knocking against a spot that makes her tip over the edge suddenly, and she lets out a choked cry, a rolling wave of weightlessness travelling from her head to her toes. Her walls spasm around him and he pushes himself in to the hilt, a groan of relief escaping him as he spills himself inside of her.

They stay like that for a few moments, both catching their breath as their bodies relax. He grins as he pulls back slightly, before leaning in to pepper her face with soft, playful kisses.

“Tommy!” She huffs a laugh, swatting at his shoulder.

He slips out of her, stepping back to tuck himself away and fasten his belt. “Thought we weren’t supposed to be using our names? Part of the fun was pretending we don’t know each other.”

She scoffs, putting her gusset back into place as she feels his spend start to drip out of her, and smooths her skirt back down. “Think you ruined that when you ordered my drink without asking what I wanted. A stranger wouldn’t know I like gin and tonic!”

Tom rolls his eyes and chuckles, offering his arm for her to take. “Right, right. Well, I’ll remember for next time. Whatever you need for me to fulfill your fantasies.”

“Right now, my only fantasy is being at home in bed. That pub is horrible,” she tells him as they begin to walk down the street arm in arm.

“You wanted the uniform. I wasn’t gonna take us somewhere someone we know would see and take the piss.”

She laughs, gripping his arm tighter as she looks up at him. “Was fun though, wasn’t it?”

He gazes down at her with hooded eyes as they continue to walk. “I’ve had worse nights.”

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

[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

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

𝐀 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

Haha...so...I wrote this in one sitting on my phone, which is unlike me. I prefer working on my computer but oh well, I couldn't stop. I'm insatiable and there was not enough Tom in season 2.

Summary: You and Tom take a nice walk through the park...until the rain starts pouring.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), kinda mean!dom Tom, implied subspace, teasing, dacryphilia, slapping, daddy kink, degradation, orgasm denial/control, and fluff cause I couldn't help myself🤷🏻‍♀️

word count | 2.2k🤙🏻

It had been a few weeks since Tom came back home. Tears of joy rarely seemed to leave your eyes, as Tom rarely ever let you leave his bed. But today, you decided it was too lovely outside to stay indoors all day, even though it would’ve been enjoyed regardless. The weather was predicted to be sunny with a nice breeze all afternoon, so you couldn’t possibly let yourself waste such a day.

You managed to convince Tom of the idea, after what seemed like hours of complaining and trying to get you to change your mind. But you weren’t having it, no matter how many times Tom said he’d bring you to a breathtaking release if you’d just allow yourselves to stay home.

You both walked to a local park, hand in hand, basking in the warm glow the sun offered, hearing the birds chirp happily, and glancing around at all the other people who must've had the same idea as you. And Tom, albeit reluctantly, started allowing himself to enjoy it and your company. Although, seeing a kid drop their ice cream cone and immediately bursting into fitful wails brought him enough joy that he started to think it was worth it. 

It wasn't until the skies suddenly darkened, the sun almost disappearing into oblivion, that you and Tom started regretting your decisions. 

It was slow at first, just a few droplets hitting the tops of your heads, then a few droplets turned into an absolute downpour. 

You squealed as you, Tom, and everyone else at the park started to get drenched, most scurrying to their vehicles or shutting themselves in their homes that were somewhat nearby. You and Tom didn't have such luck, as you both walked miles to get to this destination. What a great choice on your part. So all you really could do was take cover along the treeline of the woods that aesthetically encircled the park. 

As you watched the rain come down harder, you heard Tom sigh heavily and you rolled your eyes, already knowing you were about to get an earful...but it never came. You looked up at him in slight curiosity, seeing that a content expression was plastered over his visage, not an annoyed wrinkle or frown in sight. 

Tom glanced towards you, seeing your confused expression. "What?" 

You shook your head, jutting your bottom lip out slightly and shrugging your shoulders. "Thought you'd be...less calm than you are right now. More...mad." 

Tom furrowed his brows, going back to watching the rainfall. "Why would I be mad?" 

You chuckled weakly. "Well, you didn't really wanna come out here in the first place." 

He smirked, gently bumping your shoulder with his. "Ah, I was just pulling your leg, luv. I was happy to come out here, with you. I'm still happy to be here with you...never thought I'd get the chance again." 

You'd think your whole body would turn into a puddle right then and there, mixing with the rain and seeping into the damp soil. But alas, all it did was ignite a burning, consuming fire in the pit of your belly, almost disappointed Tom said such a thing and didn't do anything afterwards. 

You looked at your surroundings. Not a soul in sight, nobody but the two of you. The scarce playground equipment shook and swings swung violently with the wind, creaking and groaning from the force. If you were to scream, most likely no one would be able to hear you through the small storm. Why did the thought turn you on even more? And Tom, he looked so peaceful, the ever permanent curve in his lips deepening every time thunder shook the earth. 

Before you could overthink it, you started to lower yourself to the ground, the muddiness of the dirt that started to stick to your knees and ends of your dress doing nothing to quell the desire that kept on building inside you. 

Gaining his attention immediately, Tom looked down at you in dark intrigue, watching as you settled yourself on your knees. "And what do you think you're doing, sweet girl?" You didn't reply as you reached your hands up to palm his cock through his trousers, hearing him let out a barely audible grunt at your ministrations. "You do realize we're in public?" 

"You want me to stop?" You looked up at him with wide doe eyes, putting on an innocent expression even though you and Tom both knew fully well how debaucherous you really could be. 

You gasped as Tom reached down, grabbing you by the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you into a bruising kiss. "You're a fuckin' vixen, you know that? A whore is what you've turned into since I've been gone, is that it?" 

"Yes...but I'm your whore." 

And with that response, you crossed the point of no return, which is exactly where you wanted to be. 

Tom smirked, his cock instantly responding to your words and actions. "Yeah, you are, baby." He brought you into another passionate kiss, biting your bottom lip before pulling away, making you whimper. "Let's see how your whore mouth can be put to use, hm?" He growled, leaning back and relaxing against a tree, a smug aura surrounding him as he watched and waited for your next move. 

You smiled as you took his cock out, hard and pulsing warmly beneath the weight of your hand, a gush of slick pooling at your entrance at the breathy moan Tom made as you ran your tongue along him from base to tip, weakly suckling on the head to tease him. And you repeated those motions a few times before he stopped you, grabbing onto your hair with a growl. "Fuckin' tease. You gonna suck my cock like a good little slut, or do I have to force you? 'Cause I can force you, luv, you know I can." You involuntarily let out a whimpery moan, clenching your thighs together at his low, threatening voice. "Ah, I see. That's what you want, huh? You want me to use you like the whore you are? I can fuckin' do that." 

"Tom-" You yelped when he slapped you with his cockhead, making you widen your eyes up at him. 

"Nah, sweetheart, whores don't get to use my real name. So, I'm only gonna ask you once: who am I?" 

Your heart hammered in your ribcage, never having felt so frightened and aroused at the same time. "...Daddy." 

Tom grinned evilly, and in pride. "That's my good girl. Now, beg Daddy to fuck your mouth, go on." 

"Daddy," you let out with another pathetic whimper, "please, fuck my mouth. I need to feel your big cock." 

"Open." He prodded the tip of his cock at your lips, coaxing them to part. "Wider. Yeah, that's it." He groaned loudly as he rammed himself inside your hot, wet mouth, hitting the back of your throat immediately and making you gag around him. "Fuck, so good for me." He pulled back and thrusted back in roughly, over and over again, until tears ran down your cheeks and your drool spilt down your chin copiously. "See what happens when you tease your Daddy, hm? You brought this on yourself." 

You moaned around his cock, the vibrations making him groan loudly, the still pouring rain drowning at any noise. No one would be able to hear you gagging on his dick, or his moans, nor the wet squelching of your cunt as you started to finger yourself to relieve some of the tension building in you. But Tom could hear it. "You better not be touching yourself, girl. Only I get to abuse that pretty pussy of yours." Tom pulled you up from the ground, your lips releasing his dick with a wet pop, your fingers retreating from your quivering form in the process. 

Your eyes were glazed over in a haze, mad with lust and pleasure, unable to focus as Tom brought up your hand by the wrist. He lightly slapped you, bringing your vision back into focus. "Were you touching yourself?" 

He asked so lowly, you were scared, so you mewled out a soft, "No." 

Your response only made him smirk. "Hm. So, if I were to stick your fingers in my mouth, I wouldn't be able to taste you, right?" You didn't even have the chance to respond before he wrapped his lips around your fingers, his tongue swirling around the digits before releasing them with another hum. "A whore and a liar? What am I to do with you?" 

And before you knew it, Tom had you pinned up against the same tree he was leaning on previously, the bark digging into your back uncomfortably. "You know what I do with whores, but what do you think I should do with liars? Surely, I shouldn't reward them for their behavior, right?" 

You stuttered, unable to form words in your lust driven mind. "Tom-" You started to sob out, being interrupted with another slap, much harsher than the last. 

"What did I tell you?" He growled. "Whores aren't allowed to use my real name. Why can't you just do as you're told? You've grown so wild and rebellious since I've been away. I think I need to put you back in your place." 

Tom turned you around, lifting up your dress to reveal your underwear already pushed to the side, giving him access to your needy cunt. "Just a slut." You cried out loudly as he pushed two fingers inside you roughly. "That's all you are." He spat in your ear, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot, tears springing to your ears as pleasure overtook you all too easily. "So worked up, aren't you? You gonna come so quickly?" 

"Yes!" You sobbed, practically shaking from the cold of the atmosphere and the pleasure Tom was giving you. And he wouldn't fuckin' stop, bringing you right to the precipice before pulling away completely and landing a painful slap to your clit. "Ow!" You whined.

"What? You think I was gonna let you come that easily? No, you have to earn it, girl." 

"Please...please..." You cried softly, completely leaning onto the tree in quiet exhaustion, so desperate for a release that you couldn't possibly notice or care about the wood scratching up your delicate skin. 

"You sound so pretty for me, luv. And using your manners. It's almost enough to make me wanna show you mercy." 

Your body thrummed with hopefulness, your mind going into tunnel vision at the prospect of getting off. "Daddy, please. I'll be a good girl. I won't touch myself, I won't tease you, I promise. I'll behave, Daddy, I swear it." You sobbed, soft hiccups escaping your lips. 

"Hey, hey," Tom cooed, running his hands over your skin gently, gooseflesh rising along where his fingers made their path. "You are a good girl. My good, sweet girl." You preened at his praise, letting out a shuddering sigh as he finally pushed his cock into you. "I believe you've learned your lesson, luv. Now, all you have to do is come for me." He whispered in your ear, a strangled moan brushing past your ears as he sped up his thrusts. "Think you can do that for me?" 

You cried out softly as the tip of his cock kept bullying the rough patch along the front of your walls, your climax already building back up with brutal force. "Yes, Daddy." 

"Tom." He corrected, and you grinned. 

You moaned as Tom reached around to run circles on your clit, pleasure dizzying your senses, making you lightheaded. You were right there. "Please..." You wailed. 

"Say my name when you come, sweet girl. Come for me." 

"Tom!" You chanted his name like a prayer, your velvety walls squeezing around him tightly as your orgasm washed over you in tidal waves, Tom's grip on you the only thing keeping you standing on your own two feet. 

"Fuck, baby!" Tom cursed, rutting against like a wild animal until he came with a loud grunt, almost collapsing against you until he remembered there was only a tree there that couldn't keep the both of you upright in the position you both were in. 

A calming beat until Tom broke the silence first. "I love you." 

And just like that, the skies cleared and the rain stopped. The sun shined brightly once again, the fresh smell of watered earth covering up the stench of sex and sweat. 

"We should, uh, probably be getting home, huh?" Tom smirked, putting his softening cock back inside his pants and helping you fix your dress. To anyone none the wiser, it just looked like you both were drenched with rain water. You were of course, but it mixed with sweat from exertion. "And if anyone asks, you slipped and fell because you're atrociously clumsy."

You faked offense, playfully shoving him off the sidewalk as you walked back home, an easy grin on both your faces. 

You grabbed ahold of Tom's hand, squeezing it gently before leaning to kiss his cheek, the innocent gesture making him blush harder than any sex driven act could. 

"I love you too, Tom Bennett, more than you could ever know.”

sorry it's a bit shorter but i legit don't have time to write long fics all the time anymore. sadge. hope y'all enjoyed regardless. hashtag justice for Tom Bennett.

#world on fire #world on fire bbc #tom bennett #tom bennett smut #tom bennett x fem!reader #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x f!reader #tom bennett imagine

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

'Til the Sky Burns

21/12: Sunset & Orgasm Control - Tom Bennett Word Count: 1.9k~ | Warnings: p in v sex, edging, fingering, orgasm control, Tom being a bit of a prick (what's new) A/N: sorry this is kinda similar to the last one oops sue me

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

She's quiet, he notes, and fiddling with her hands like she's nervous. Her pumps click rhythmically with each step, the biting, winter cold slipping beneath their clothes. 

Tom is cocky, mean sometimes, but never usually cruel, like he is being now.

But he figures he should make her sweat a bit, wondering why he's acting the twat that he is, while her pretty little head whirs around with possibilities at why he might be angry with her.

Even he can admit to himself, it's a silly reason.

He'd been looking forward to seeing her for weeks. With every letter exchanged, every glance at her photo from the pocket of his uniform, he couldn't wait to touch her again, to breathe in her perfume and feel her warm body against his.

He'd remembered his words to her before left.

"I could stay here, between your pretty thighs, all day love."

She had rolled her eyes, and told him that she was more than willing to let him try.

And after hours of grueling travel, crossing waters and land to see her, the first thing he saw when he stepped off the train to the platform was her talking to someone else.

To the twat down the road no less, who for one couldn't take no for an answer, and secondly, had been discharged from service on bullshit medical grounds, in reality too much of a coward to face real war.

Not that Tom could compare, he'd picked the Navy as a way of distancing himself as much as possible. But he didn't say he was perfect.

He remembered watching her for a good few seconds. It was midday, but she'd made the effort and dressed up all pretty, done her hair, to make herself look good to meet him off the train.

And he had to admit, she did look absolutely gorgeous, just as he'd remembered.

But there was a rancid taste in his mouth left over as he narrowed his eyes at them as they talked. She was clearly uncomfortable, but forced a smile to her face out of sheer politeness. And everytime he reached out to touch her arm, she took a baby step back.

Even that wasn't enough to pull him out of his now foul mood.

She smiled and nodded, grimacing as she stepped away from him and turned suddenly to see Tom, the man she had come to see, a smile lifting to her face in relief.

To be met with Tom's expression, stoic and seething, had her face fall. 

She knew that look well enough.

So he walked with her silently to her flat on the edge of town, the usual few minutes stretching into an eternity. She's stuffed her hands in her pockets, eyes downcast, as if she was wondering what she'd done to upset him but dare not ask yet.

At least until they were in the comfort of her flat.

The warm wall hit Tom as he entered her living room with a deep sigh. Through his annoyance, the familiar smell of her had his chest all tight, but was much too proud to even break his mood.

He shucked his bag onto the floor, bending to sit at the dining table, his hat scrunched tight in one fist.

Tom watched her as she pulled her coat off, able now to see the dress she'd picked. His favourite one of hers. 

It almost made him feel bad, being this much of a twat when he saw how much effort she'd put into looking nice for him so eagerly.

“Tea?” She asks, raising her gaze briefly to him. And when all he gives is a curt nod, she sighs softly and puts the kettle on the stove, lighting the gas and waiting.

Any second now, he thinks, his finger tapping on the wood surface of the table, leg bouncing impatiently.

“Have I done something?” She asks, so quietly and kindly that it nearly, nearly breaks him. Makes him want to rip all her clothes off and let her know who she belongs to, after all his time at sea, the idea is all the more tempting.

His jaw tightens, “Don't know what you mean.”

“I think you do, Tom. You've not said a word to me. Come on, please.”

He sighs. It's a mistake looking at her. She gives him those eyes.

When he stands, she is reminded of his sheer size, his height, the broadness of his shoulders all but accentuated by the boxy uniform he wears. The early afternoon sun pours through the single glazing onto one side of his face, in such an amber glow that one might expect it to be setting already. 

The winter sun looked good on Tom Bennett’s lazy stubble that coated his chiselled jawline.

She swallowed over the lump in her throat as he leaned over her, using his arms either side of her to cage her in against the kitchen counter. His usual mischief in his blue eyes is all but gone, and he bites his lip in annoyance, making the muscle of his jaw twitch.

“You get all nice and dressed up for him, hm?”

Her wide-eyed, terrified expression was too fucking adorable, he nearly let a smirk slip by.

“Who?”

He scoffed quietly, “That prick on the platform you were talking to so eagerly.”

He knew it was a lie, but it was too tempting to tease her. Knowing she’d flounder.

“What on earth are you-”

“Trying to impress him, are ya?” Tom was only human, and at the thought he was flustering her, he grinned.

“Tom, I was just being nice!”

He scoffed, showing his teeth as he smiled, “bit over the top though, wasn't it love?”

“What do you want me to do? Bat away every man who speaks to me?”

“That'd be a start, yeah.”

“See, now you're just being-” she started, but was swiftly interrupted with Tom surging forwards to her, his chest bumping against hers, his lips parting hers with ease and sliding his tongue against hers. 

His motions were quick and calculated, one hand grabbing her waist, while the other worked swiftly to pull the hem of her dress up, his two long, slender fingers stealing between her thighs to feel how aroused she was.

He was pleased at what he found.

“Miss me, did ya?”

He saw her grip on the counter behind her tighten as he teased her through the thin fabric that separated their flesh.

Months and months of separation was pouring out of him into his actions on her.

She shook her head at him with a smile, breathing elevating by the second as his deft fingers slid down the front of her underwear, “you're such a-”

“Hm?” He smirked, sinking two of his fingers into her warm agonisingly slowly, curving upwards towards the top of her walls to massage that spot he knew so well.

He didn't need her to finish the sentence. He knew he was a cheeky bastard.

Tom was never one for soft touches, gentle kisses or words of utter devotion. Usually, anyway. He was much too proud for that. 

He showed his possessiveness over her in many different ways. With a quirk of his lips, the grip of his fingers on her thigh and with incessant and brutal lovemaking.

Time slid by slowly after they'd returned to her flat, all of their actions drunkenly merging into one long moment of heavy breaths and their skin pressing against each other hotly.

Tom was quite impressed he'd managed to stay between her legs for hours, all without giving her the luxury of an orgasm.

It felt cruel doing it. But he was, in his own way, punishing her.

He held his hands against either side of her waist, shallowly pushing his hips against her backside with a lazy, languid pace. Hitting her sweet spot, but at the same time, lacking the intensity for it to really build into anything.

Her curls had fallen into waves with the exertion of the past few hours, and she was tired, her cheeks all flushed both with exhaustion, and all's frustration at being denied what she really wanted.

Her grip was tight on the windowsill in front of her, the winter sun almost touching the horizon.

“Christ, if anyone walked by right now, love.” He smirked, his thumbs sitting in the dimples above her backside, looking down between them at the way his length was slick with her arousal between rapid thrusts.

He nearly lost it when her walls fluttered around him, nearly sending him over the edge as well. The idea of anyone walking by the window, despite being on the first floor, was still exciting.

“Tom, please…” 

“Ah, you'd like that, would ya?” He asked lowly, leaning over her and whispering against the shell of her ear, “who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?”

He heard and felt the telltale signs she was close again. She inadvertently tightened around him, her breaths coming all quick and her voice strained.

“Tommy…” she whimpered, turning slightly to try and capture his lips, groaning in frustration as he pulled away with a smug smile.

“Stop whinging, now. Sun's not set yet.”

She opened her bleary eyes to the horizon. The sun, annoyingly, had only just touched the skyline. And the repeated feeling of Tom stretching and filling her impossibly was beginning to crest without effort.

She moaned as Tom's full lips parted and bit at her neck, “If he could see you now. Fucking soaked and eager for me.”

Humiliation burned in her blood with every word he said, his pace never faltering even once. She wondered, briefly, how Tom was able to go on this long. But he was pent up and enjoying watching her teeter on the precipice of falling apart.

And it was just too tempting for him to even think about stopping.

Tom glanced up though, and saw the sun was slowly beginning to set, agonisingly slow, and a smirk split across his face.

His hand made its way around her face, gently pulling her face up to the amber glow of the sunset, “come on then, love. Let go for me.”

Tom delighted in the reaction he got from her, her whole body wracked with pleasure. All at once, heat flooded her limbs, making them tremble, and the sheer sound she lets out is enough in itself to make Tom fall apart right after her. 

But it's her tightening around him that gets him in the end.

His face contorts as the pleasure burns in his veins, pulling out of her quickly, his dog tag necklace feels cool to the touch against his bare chest as he breathes, fisting his length and letting a shuddered groan slip as he paints the soft skin of her backside with his release.

If it feels like this for him, having been close to orgasm for hours, he can't imagine how it feels for her.

He pulls her up against his chest, his lips leaving lazy, open-mouthed kisses on her neck as their breaths and hearts slowly return to normal.

“You're not angry?...”, she managed between laboured breaths.

Tom chuckled lightly, his breath running hot over her neck, “Don't fret, love. I was only pulling ya leg.”

She smacked his arm playfully, both of them looking out onto the sky as the setting sun set it alight briefly before the darkness chased it away.

“You're a cheeky bastard, Tom Bennett.” She mused softly, in a way which made it clear she was smiling.

He tightened his arms around her, resting his chin on the crown of her head, “tell me something I don't know, darlin’.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

#tom bennett world on fire #tom world on fire #world on fire tom bennett #world on fire tom #tom bennett smut #tom bennett x you #tom bennett #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x female reader #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x oc #tom bennett fan fiction #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fan fic #tom bennett fic #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett fluff #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #12 days of smuff

[happilyhertale]

Welcome to my page 💙

About me: I'm Vanessa (please never call me Vanny), my pronouns are she/her. I'm in my 30s and a professional fangirl. My main account is @schniiipsel.

I only write in my spare time - but I love losing myself in writing! I write for the Ewan Mitchell characters Aemond Targaryen, Tom Bennett, Osferth and Ettore, as well as Daemon Targaryen. Feel free to ask me anything! 🖤

This blog is for over 18s only! All others please leave this account at this point.

Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Tom Bennett

Osferth

Ettore

12 Days of Smuff

Currently writing Steamy

#aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fluff #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett smut #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett #dad aemond #aemond targaryen one shot #ettore #ettore smut #ettore x you #ettore x y/n #osferth #osferth x y/n #osferth smut #osferth x you #osferth x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #matt smith

[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 !

[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

[endless-ineffabilities]

tongue in cheek - four

Tom Bennett x f!reader

masterlist ▪︎ part one - part two - part three

The reader and Tom continue to dance around other, flirting and sharing stolen moments. But where is it all headed?

You don't get to finish the words.

The door opens, and Lois barges into the room. Balancing two saucers of tea in her hands.

"Oh!" She exclaims, sheepishly, noting how close her brother is to you. "Sorry, I just - "

"Aw, Lois, come on." Tom nearly whines at his sister.

"Sorry," she says firmly, not having any of Tom's attitude. "I just thought that y/n might want some tea as well. You can get your own." She hands one saucer to you with a knowing smile.

You sit down on your bed, and take a nervous sip, scanning the wallpaper patterns to distract yourself. Tom is still watching you, his eyes intently looking at your lips.

"So... what were you gettin' up to?" Lois' eyes twinkle with mischief. Obviously she's deduced what was about to happen.

Oh nothing, it's just that your brother was going to kiss me. You raise your head, and meet his eyes. He simply smirks at you, and you can't help but feel warm inside. And it's not because of the flippin' tea.

"Y'know," Tom shrugs, then gestures to you. "Just getting acquainted with this beauty here."

You narrow your eyes at him. Try me.

"Riiight," Lois eyebrows rise as high as they possibly go. "Well, I guess I could - "

"I'll head downstairs for a moment. See what Douglas is up to." You stand abruptly, your teacup rattling as a result.

Tom calls your name, telling you to "Hold on, doll."

God, I can't bear to look at him right now, otherwise I just might snog him in front of Lois.

"I need some air," you glance at him briefly, before slinkering out of the bedroom door, and out of Tom's bloody reach.

You take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself while at the top of the staircase.

Tom's and Lois' hushed voices could be heard from the room, and you catch hints of what could be - "Bad timing" - "Don't be a fool!" - "... my friend" - and of course a lovely contribution from Tom - "Bloody cockblock."

Douglas spots you after you descend the staircase. He kindly asks, "You alright? You look flushed. Tom wasn't being rude or anything, was he?"

Rude? Maybe he's rude for not kissing me fast enough.

"Oh, not at all," you smile sweetly, joining him at the table.

"That's good. I know he can be..." Douglas trails off, and you shrug in understanding. Tom can be a lot of things, alright. Is he a good snog though? I almost found out.

"Well, I was just makin' dinner," Douglas points to the steaming pot on the stove. "Should be ready in a few minutes."

Heavy booted footsteps come pounding down the stairs, and Tom materializes in the kitchen. He stands beside your chair, hand resting on the back.

"Alright?"He throws out a nonchalant greeting. Douglas merely hums in response. When Tom notices that you barely acknowledged his presence, he leans in close to your ear, "Alright, doll?"

He's so close that if you turn your head to the side, your noses might bump into each other. You give him a sideways glance, before dryly saying, "Oh, I'm just dandy, sweetheart."

He's making your heart race, and he knows it. Enjoys it even.

This prick. This... handsome prick.

Tom, due to his godforsaken lack of shame, quickly presses his lips to your cheek. The resulting kiss is fleeting, and lasts for but a millisecond. But you still feel him, even when he leans away, the lips that just grazed your cheekbone stretched wide in his enduring cheeky smile.

He jumps back on his heel, as if nothing out of the ordinary has just occurred.

"Quit pesterin' her, son," Douglas scolds, then gives you a look of sympathy. You wonder if he caught that little kiss Tom gave you, but you know it wouldn't matter to Tom either way.

"Need a beer," Tom simply says, as he walks over to the fridge. His prize in hand, he brings it to his lips and expertly uncaps it with his teeth. You can't help but watch him with intent, wondering why he even thought to kiss you in that moment.

"Call when dinner's done," Tom heads back to the staircase, and you twist in your chair, and mouth what the fuck at him.

He gets the message, but true to form, opts to answer you with a bloody wink. His expression remains smug even when he reaches his bedroom.

Tom - 1, You - 0

For now.

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

For the next week, the tension is heightened, each and every moment you're around Tom.

In the room you both share with Lois, he always makes sure to give you lingering looks when she's not looking. Or purposefully initiating skin-to-skin contact whenever he brushes past you.

A gentle hand on your shoulder. On your back. Once he even claims to spot an eyelash on your cheek, so his brilliant solution is to grip your face with both hands and gently blow on the supposed spot.

For a long moment he just stays in place, even with the rogue eyelash gone. You feel his strong, callused fingers moving against your skin. His bright blue eyes land on your lips, then back to your wide-eyed stare.

"Like a pretty little deer in headlights," he hums.

Well, he isn't wrong. If only Lois... wait, Lois!

That realization renders you alert, and out of your Tom-induced haze. You quickly step back from him, and with a nervous laugh, and a glance at Lois who sits by the boudoir, you make sure to raise your voice to say, "Gee, well, uh, thanks for that, Tom."

Tom merely gives you a nod. You notice his usual smirk is not in place, and his brows are furrowed as he examines his shoes.

"I've got to go," Tom mumbles near incoherently. He seems careful not to touch you as he walks past, giving you as wide of a berth as he can.

The bedroom door shuts behind him, and you slump down on your bed. It's just never the right moment, is it?

"You fancy my brother," Lois nonchalantly declares, as she skims her book.

"What?" You swivel around to look at her, appearing shocked at her observation. "I... I don't - "

"Come on," Lois throws you a meaningful look, and you know for certain that you can't deny the truth to her. "We both know that if I weren't sharin' the room with you two, then you'd have bloody bonked each other already!" She laughs towards the end, and you can't help but mirror the gesture.

"Okay, well," you sit up cross-legged on the bed, as if preparing to have a discussion. "What do you really make of all this?"

"I think," Lois leans in, like you're schoolyard friends sharing a secret, "that you've caused my brother to go insane."

"Lois! Be serious," you groaned.

"I am serious!" she insists. "He's never been like this. Around anyone. And I've seen him with plenty of dames before."

"He likes me," you repeat, your tone unsure. "This isn't all just some cat and mouse game?"

"Mhmm," Lois happily asserts.

Tom - 1, You - 1

But where did that damn rascal go?

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

Much later, in the wee hours of the night, Tom wonders what you would think of him in the present moment.

Whether you would care that Suzy Collings from down the road is perched on his lap as they're necking on the couch in the concealed back end of the pub. If you would simply glare at the sight and walk off, or if you would grab Suzy by the collar and drag her away.

Tom thinks of how your lips would feel, as Suzy nips at his neck. He imagines how soft your hips would be, as Suzy grabs his hands and presses them to hers. His mind is occupied with the image of your face and how he adores every feature of it, as Suzy smiles at him with rouge-stained lips.

He thinks of you, when he shouldn't be. It's you every time.

Why does this all feel wrong? Tom realizes that he does not feel the slightest bit aroused even with Suzy clad in only her brassiere on top of him. The sight of your bloody knees when your skirt rides up an inch would do a much better job. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Tom thought he just has a mere infatuation with you, and he has those all the time, doesn't he? And isn't like most dames are shy about their affections towards him either.

He thought he could just go on with usual antics, and shake off this weird feeling - one that he can't quite point his finger on.

But he keeps thinking about you... you... and the two of you are not even together.

I haven't even bloody kissed her yet!

And yet... It's as if I'm already hers.

"Sorry, doll," Tom turns his cheek, avoiding another kiss. "I'm just not in the mood right now."

"Are you kidding me? When are you not in the mood, sugar?" Suzy responds, in a honeyed voice, tracing patterns on Tom's face.

"Now," Tom lifts her from his lap, and props her to the side. He then makes a flippant comment, saying, "You should get dressed. Might catch a cold and all."

"Prick," Suzy calls out as he walks away with no further explanation.

Tom leaves the pub with no clear destination intended, but he only has one thought running through his head.

You.

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

In celebration of Tom Bennett's brief return in World on Fire S2!!! A regrettable 3 minutes of screentime, but even that is a damn miracle knowing how rare it is to be granted a look at our Iceberg 💙

series taglist: @greenowlfactif @schniiipsel @tssf-imagines @aemond-secondson @ahdushenka @bat-revival @mefools @mischiefmanaged71 @svtansdaddyx @chainsawangel @tinykryptonitewerewolf @yentroucnagol @nightdiamond8663 @bookwyrmsblog @rwdkarla @saminalloxo

#world on fire #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett #ewan mitchell #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett world on fire #world on fire bbc #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader

[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

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Best Intentions - Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x femme Warnings: Angst. Smut. Mentions of shell shock and trauma. Word count: ~4.3k

Summary: An overview of how Tom and her came to be friends, and the set up for the story now that he's returned to Longsight. Series masterlist.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

The imposing red brick building of Plymouth Grove Primary School is gigantic and intimidating to her as she enters through the gates to the playground, the thought of being left here for the entire day makes her clutch at her mum’s hand with tight desperation.

Her first day of school is one she’ll never forget, forever imprinted in her mind, owing to a big pair of blue eyes filled with mischief, and a grin with a pair of front teeth that remind her of a rabbit’s.

It’s morning break as she surveys the playground nervously, trying to decide if she feels brave enough to join in on a nearby game of hopscotch. It’s then that she feels a warm puff of air ruffle the back of her hair, and she spins around to see a sandy haired boy running back towards a group of laughing lads.

“I did it! I gobbed in her hair!” He shouts.

Humiliation warms her skin as tears prickle her eyes, and she hurries inside to the girls’ toilets to unsuccessfully try to locate where the offending spittle has landed, all the while sniffling back sobs.

It’s when dinnertime comes and she sits unhappily sipping her milk that she sees him again. He sidles up to her, alone this time, a sheepish look on his face.

“I didn’t really,” he shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, “Gob in your hair, I mean. I was dared to, so I pretended,”

“Oh,” is all she’s able to manage, not sure of what else to say.

“I’m Tom. Mates, yeah?” He says with his bunny toothed grin, and she can’t help but smile back.

He sits himself next to her, opening his own milk and they spend the remainder of the hour getting to know each other.

She’s surprised to learn that it’s his first day too, she had assumed from his confidence that he would be a couple of years above her. He lives with his dad, Douglas, who works as a bus conductor, his mum - Josie, and his sister, Lois, who is a couple of years above them.

He learns all about how she lives with her mum, and it’s just the two of them as her dad had passed away when she was a baby. Her mum runs the shop off of Stamford Road with her uncle, who lives in the flat above it.

Tom’s eyes light up at the mention of this. “The one with the jars of sherbet straws?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, “And treacle toffees!”

By half past three that afternoon, as the children file back out of the school gates, her and Tom are firm friends.

Her mum and Josie stand waiting to collect them, and they discover that they live only a few streets apart, so the four of them and Lois walk home together, chattering excitedly about her and Tom’s first day of school.

From that day forward, the thought of being at school for the entire day fills her with excitement. Tom makes it a less scary place to be, and is quick to defend her if ever anyone tries to give her trouble.

Their friendship remains solid as the years pass, as does Tom’s compulsion for finding trouble. He adores showing off and being the centre of attention, but it’s always her he runs to when it’s time to face the consequences. She is a privy to a side of him that nobody else is, she has seen his fear, his sadness and his doubt.

They sit on the wall adjacent to her mum’s shop, a paper bag rustling between them as they help themselves to sherbet straws. Tom and Lois had walked home with her and her mum. Josie hadn’t been there to pick them up, she hadn’t been for a few days now.

“Should probably go home soon,” she slurs around a mouthful of sweets, “Need to do my homework.”

Tom nods slowly, moving his own sweet around in his mouth. “D’you…d’you think you could help me with mine?”

“Why?” She chides, “‘Cause you spent all lesson mucking about?”

“Come on,” he pleads, “Me mam’s not well, last thing she needs is me getting into trouble because I can’t do sums.”

She clicks her tongue and sighs. “Fine,” she says, jumping down from the wall.

“Smashing,” he grins, following after her.

She smiles over her shoulder at him. “What are mates for?”

Josie’s illness worsens and she passes away around the time that they start secondary school.

Tom’s behaviour becomes more uncontrollabe, exacerbated by his mum’s death, but with her and Lois at the all girls school, and him at the all boys, there is little that can be done to stop him.

Things come to a head one day when Douglas opens the door to an angry neighbour, who berates him for Tom having stolen the milk from their doorstep, running away laughing, before dropping and smashing it when they’d chased after him.

He’d come to her after Douglas had given him a stern telling off, head bowed and looking sorry for himself.

“He hates me,” Tom had said sullenly.

“He doesn’t hate you, Tom, you just need to behave yourself. Why’d you do it?”

“Was dared to,” he says with a shrug.

“Like when you spat in my hair?”

He presses his lips together, lowering his eyes. “I dunno why I do it. It’s just hard since mam’s gone, dad doesn’t understand me like she did.”

It’s then that she notices the tears that rim his eyes, and she pulls him into a hug.

When had he gotten so tall? He feels massive compared to how he used to.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “I’m glad we’re mates.”

The next few years follow a similar pattern; Tom gets into trouble and immediately runs to her each time, basking in the safety of her presence and comforting words.

As they grow older, Tom’s misbevaiour evolves into petty crimes which soon attract the attention of the police.

She also begins to notice the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to him each time she pulls him into a hug, a troubling new habit he’s developed, no doubt to impress the older boys. 

He now seems impossibly tall, and with every inch he grows it feels like he pulls a little bit further away from her. It makes her heart ache.

She grows used to seeing him walking home in the mornings looking bedraggled, a cigarette perched between his lips, after having spent the night in the back of a pub to avoid the police, who would no doubt have been knocking at the door of the Bennett household the previous evening.

When news of war having broken out in Europe reaches them and lads Tom’s age begin signing up to the draft, Tom decides he’s having none of it.

“Signing up as a conchie!” He tells her, as they sit on the wall together, waving the green booklet for emphasis.

“Your dad was a conscientious objector,” she says, narrowing her eyes in disbelief, “Your beliefs are suddenly the same as his are they?”

Tom tuts, flicking his lighter absentmindedly. “Just don’t wanna sign my life away for a load of bollocks that’s got naff all to do with me,”

His mind soon changes once the police come knocking again. He enlists in the Navy, action he considers less direct than fighting on the front lines.

The night before he’s due to ship out, he has a rowdy celebration in the local pub, jeering and clinking glasses with those who’ve not yet joined the draft. She watches on with a heavy feeling in her chest, she knows behind all his claims of how many Germans he’s going to kill and how he’ll have a bird in every port that he’s terrified of what’s to come.

That much is proven as he walks her home later that night, unsteady on his feet and reeking of beer. He sways in front of her once they reach her front door, big blue eyes misty and filled with emotion.

“You okay, sailor?” She asks with a soft smile.

“Can I– can I stay the night?” He asks, suddenly seeming like the little boy he was back when they were in primary school and he’d apologised for pretending to spit in her hair. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

She’s never shared a bed with Tom before. They’ve always been just friends. Her throat runs dry at the thought, but in that moment he seems so vulnerable, she can’t deny him anything.

They creep up the rickety wooden stairs to her bedroom, careful not to wake her mum, and squeeze into the single bed that occupies the space. He clings tightly to her, long limbs wrapped around her, like a drowning man grasping onto a lifesaver.

“I’m so scared,” he whispers into the darkness.

“You’ll come back,” she reassures him, “You have to, who else would be my mate?”

She feels him smile against her shoulder. “Yeah, who else would put up with you?”

They giggle, before shushing each other as she elbows him in the ribs, and they fall asleep curled around each other.

Tom’s gone when wakes up.

They write letters back and forth to each other, but each one feels distant and lifeless. He’s writing with the mask he shows to the rest of the world, giving an emotionless recount of each of his days. She supposes he might be afraid or whose hands his words may end up in, and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself, so she clings to every letter, vapid as they are, grateful to still have a connection to him.

She visits the Bennett household once a week, to share the letters they’ve been exchanging - to her disappointment, the ones she receives are much the same as the ones he sends home to Douglas and Lois.

Over time, her mum and uncle join her on her visits. Her mum brings cakes and her uncle gets into the habit of playing cards with Douglas. She is glad for the closeness between their two families, it makes Tom’s absence seem less daunting.

It’s at the Bennetts’ house where she learns the news of the attack on the HMS Exeter, the Naval ship that Tom is stationed aboard. Her blood runs icy cold at the news, though the Exeter was victorious it is not without deaths and casualties.

The weeks spent waiting for news are agonising, and it’s Tom she’s thinking of as she leans against the shop counter, eyes fixed on the large front window, but too lost in her thoughts to see through it.

“Quarter of sherbet straws when you’re not away with the fairies,”

The familiar voice startles her out of her reverie and she looks up wide eyed at Tom’s smiling face.

God, he’s grown into those bunny teeth. Has his smile always been so handsome?

“Tom!” She squeals, rushing from behind the counter and throwing her arms around his neck. “Do your dad and Lois know you’re back?”

He hugs her warmly before pulling back. “Yeah, popped home first to say hello. Left me new bird there, actually, thought you’d wanna meet her?”

She hates the way her heart sinks at this, but nods regardless, flipping the closed sign on the shop door and locking it behind her.

Tom tells her all about the Battle of the River Plate as they walk back to his house. He grows solemn when he’s finished, glancing sideways at her.

“I saw people die,” he says quietly, “I thought I was gonna die. Can’t believe there’s so much of my life I’ve pissed up the wall.”

It’s then that she notices how much more mature he seems, wise beyond his years. He’s seen things that no man his young age should have seen. She reaches for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, a gesture which he returns.

“So, this is Vera,” he gestures towards the kitchen table as they head inside.

She laughs, relief washing over her, when she sees the little canary sitting in her cage.

For a few days it feels like everything is back to normal, until Tom gets a new posting and has to leave again.

“I’ll come back,” he tells her, taking her hands in his, “who else would be your mate?”

She can’t help but smile. “No one else would put up with me,”

He’s away longer this time, his letters are fewer and the worry gnaws at her with more intensity than ever before.

For the second time in her life she cries over Tom Bennett when she hears that he’s been declared as missing in action on the beaches of Dunkirk, a suspected capture by opposing forces.

Lois falls pregnant, and for a time the advancing stages of her pregnancy and eventual birth are a welcome distraction, a reminder that there is life amongst all the death that surrounds them.

Her grief is amplified when bombs fall over Manchester, a bottomless pit opening in her gut when she finds out that there was a direct hit on the Bennett house. Her uncle and Douglas had been inside playing cards at the time, neither had survived.

Her mum moves Lois and her baby into the flat above the shop, with her uncle gone the space is no longer occupied and it makes sense for them to have it, considering they no longer have a roof over their heads.

It’s comforting to have them so close, a little piece of Tom to hold onto until he comes back, if he comes back. She hates herself for thinking it.

When Tom next steps through the shop door, there’s no trace of his grin from last time. He looks skinny, haunted, he’s aged. There’s an anger within his blue eyes that replaces the mischief that used to sparkle there.

He doesn’t need to ask for her to know what he’s after. There will be no hugs of greeting this time.

“She’s upstairs,” she says softly, her stomach tied into knots.

He simply nods and walks towards the back to go up.

It doesn’t take long for her to be able to hear the muffled sounds of arguing and not five minutes later he storms back downstairs and out into the street. She follows after him, grabbing the quarter of sherbet straws she’d bagged up for him.

He’s sat smoking on their usual spot on the wall, and she hops up beside him, placing the paper bag between them. He doesn’t touch them. She wonders when the last time he ate anything at all was, he looks so thin.

The silence between them feels painful, she doesn’t know what to say, but she can tell from the way his hands shake and the urgency with which he drags on his cigarette that if she doesn’t say something then he certainly won’t.

“You can’t be angry with Lois, y’know,” she says gently, “it’s not her fault,”

“Then whose is it?!” He snaps angrily, eyes narrowing as he looks at her.

He’s never spoken to her like that before and she shrinks away from it. “It’s not my fault either,” she whispers sadly.

His face softens, a look of shame replacing his anger as he averts his gaze, his lips twitching. “Sorry about your uncle,”

“Sorry about your dad,”

His return is brief, only a couple of days this time. Enough time for him to visit Douglas’ grave, but not enough for them to talk, not properly anyway. He reveals that he was taken to an American hospital in Paris, after being shot in Dunkirk. A woman named Henriette had helped him to escape France and he’d made his way home via Spain. It’s all so matter of fact the way that he recounts it, but she only has to look into his eyes to see the turmoil he’s feeling. It crushes her.

He looks fearful and uncertain when they say goodbye, the urge to cling to him and beg him not to go is overwhelming.

“You’ll still be here when I get back, won’t you?” He asks.

“Course I will, I always am,” she replies with a sad smile.

He cups her cheek, his large palm engulfing her face and leans down to press his lips to hers. She startles at first, they have never kissed before, but she quickly reciprocates, moving her mouth against Tom’s. His lips are so soft and there is a tenderness behind the gesture that brings tears to her eyes.

She’s breathless when they part, his forehead resting against hers, his hand still cupping her cheek.

“Mates, yeah?” He whispers.

The word makes her heart twinge. “Yeah, mates.”

Her fingers trace lightly across her mouth as she watches him walk away, kit bag slung over his shoulder.

Tom sends no letters at all the third time he leaves, so eventually she stops writing to him. She figures it can’t be nice for him to hear about how life is carrying on without him, how his niece has started to walk and talk, a new house built in place of his old one with a new family living inside it.

She can’t bear how the world continues, while she feels stuck in place, waiting for his return. It isn’t fair that there are people getting to laugh and love and live their lives, while he’s sacrificing his so that they may have the privilege.

With the exception of the morning paper sort, her mum has taken a step back from the shop, needing more rest than usual, and without her uncle around to help out, she’s taking on more hours in order to keep things ticking over. The sweet jars sit empty, rationing is difficult to get used to. She’ll never be able to come to terms with sending people away without the food they want and need, simply because the shop either doesn’t have enough stock, or they have already used their allotted portion for the week.

Her mind drifts back to how skeletal Tom had looked when she’d seen him last. She hopes he’s managing to eat.

It’s the beginning of September, the dying embers of summer glow dark orange on the horizon, as the evening battles the day for dominance in the increasingly earlier darkening of the sky.

Lois is on an evening shift, so her mum is round at the flat looking after the little one. She has the house to herself, and has lost count of the amount of times she’s read and re-read the same passage in her book, unable to take the words in.

She frowns when she hears the door knock, unsure of whether she should answer it or not, she’s not expecting anyone. Her hesitation provides enough time for a second knock, more urgent this time, so she relents, going to the front door and opening it.

It feels as though time freezes when she sees Tom standing there, gaunt and tired looking.

He doesn’t give her time to react, dropping his kit bag to the floor as he closes the door behind him and presses a bruising kiss to her lips. His hands pull at her clothes as he backs her towards the living room sofa, and she lets him.

She just needs to feel that he’s real, that he’s really back, so she loses herself in the moment, allowing him to climb on top of her, her own hands moving to strip him as he does the same to her.

Her fingertips stroke down his back and she’s shocked to find she can feel every vertebrae in his spine, and all the ribs that protrude through the skin. She’s never touched him in such an intimate manner before, but she knows he’s never been so emaciated. He feels hollow, yet there is strength to how he manhandles her.

Pulling her thighs apart, he settles between them, pushing her open with the thickness of his cock. She gasps, arching against him, clutching tightly to his shoulders as he pistons his hips in quick succession against hers. This is no gentle lovemaking, it is filled with raw animalistic need, a desire to feel something, anything.

His breaths are ragged against her neck and he finds release quickly, spilling inside of her with a grunt before collapsing and pulling her tight to his chest.

They lay quietly on the sofa together, nothing but the sounds of their heavy breathing filling the space. She has a thousand questions she longs to ask him, yet none of them seem appropriate. Despite the fact that Tom has just brutally had his way with her, she’s still in shock that he’s returned.

“I’m sorry I never wrote,” he says eventually, “was tired of never having any good news to tell you,”

“You’re back now,” she says quietly, fingers tracing over the bullet wound scar in his shoulder, “that’s all that matters,”

“Still mates then?” He asks.

Her heart lurches at the word. Is that all they are after what’s just happened?

“Yeah, still mates,”

He drifts to sleep in her arms and she holds him, until his thrashing pushes her from the sofa. She lands with a heavy thud on the living room carpet, watching in horror as Tom’s sweaty body writhes and cries out in terror in his sleep.

She kneels beside the sofa, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to still him and coax him awake. He startles, wide eyed, before clutching at her, burying his face in her neck and sobbing until he drifts into unconsciousness again.

As Tom settles back into life in Longsight, he goes right back to wearing a mask for everyone.

“Are you a hero?” Children shout as he walks down the street.

“Always have been, always will be,” he says with a lopsided grin.

Yet each day ends with him muffling his cries into her neck after she’s soothed his night terrors, she knows better than the act he puts on for everyone else’s benefit. She suspects that Tom may be suffering from shell shock, but doesn’t dare to bring it up. Knowing his father had the same, it is likely a sore subject for him.

His return sees a new development in their friendship, them sleeping together the night he came back isn’t a one off occurrence, yet each time he still continues to refer to her as a mate. It’s confusing for her, but not an issue she wishes to push, knowing that Tom is struggling with enough already. He’ll figure it out when he’s ready, she just needs to be there for him.

Tom gets a flat nearby, and finds a job at the local garage. Having served in the Navy has imparted mechanical skills to him, and he can easily work his way around an engine.

She sits perched on the workbench of the garage, admiring the view. Tom’s sandy coloured hair is pushed back from his forehead, his navy overalls tied around his waist, leaving him in just the white vest he wears underneath. His first customer of the day has yet to arrive, so he’s clean for now. She bites her lip at the thought of how dirty he’ll be by the end of the day.

It has become routine for her to spend a few mornings a week watching him work - her mum has never gotten out of the habit of insisting she wants to open the shop and sort the morning papers before heading home, so she is left to her own devices most days until the early afternoon. Tom doesn’t seem to mind having her hang around the garage.

When a car pulls in, a portly gentleman stepping out, Tom walks to greet him.

“It keeps overheating, I can’t understand why,” he explains to Tom.

“I’ll take a look for ya, mate. Come back in an hour, yeah?”

The man looks over at her with slight concern. “Will she…uh…be assisting you?”

Tom grins. “Nah, she’s just a mate, won’t let her near your motor, don’t worry.”

Just a mate.

She thinks back to how he’d knelt behind her not long after they’d woken up, just a couple of hours ago, pulling her hips back to meet each of his thrusts.

Just a mate.

Mates don’t do that.

Tom’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts. “Stupid old sod, just needs to put coolant in the engine. Gonna tell him I replaced the fan belt and charge him extra.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

He gives an easy shrug. “He’s loaded, he can afford it.”

She sighs, looking at her watch. “I’d better push off, mum’ll be expecting me at the shop. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Probably not,” Tom says. “Booked solid tomorrow, but come round to mine after?”

She nods, waving and walking away. She’s used to Tom letting her know when the garage will be busy, so makes a point to stay away so he’s not distracted.

It’s not until the end of the day, when she fishes around in her pocket for the keys to lock up the shop that she realises she has Tom’s lighter. She’s too tired to pop round and drop it off at his, so decides she’ll swing by the garage in the morning to give it back.

Her fingers wrap around it in her pocket, preparing to take it out to hand back as she approaches the garage the next morning.

She stops in her tracks when she sees a sleek black motor car parked in the vehicle bay, a tall, sophisticated, beautiful woman standing beside it. Her perfectly manicured nails stroke down Tom’s bare arm as her ruby red lips pull back into a smile.

Her heart lurches in her chest as she watches him reach out to tuck a strand of the woman’s long, dark hair behind her ear.

Her throat tightens, nausea bubbles in her stomach as she turns and walks away, the lighter long forgotten. It feels as though the bottom of her world has been ripped away. She angrily swipes at the wetness that rims her eyes.

Just mates.

Fine, if that’s what Tom wanted then that’s all they’d ever be.

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

[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

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Rocking The Boat - Tom Bennett

He's such a chaotic douchebag...I love him (could i come up with a more cringey title lmao)

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), slight misogyny, war wounds, inaccurate WWII terms, smoking (ew, but he makes it look hot), angst, enemies(?) to lovers, pining, Tom being a menace to society (and insecure), fingering, unprotected sex (no rubbers on a battleship, I'm afraid)

(caught in) 4K Words🤙🏻

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Being the only female on a heavy cruiser of hundreds of men, it had its hardships.

Your parents begged you not to join the Navy, but you couldn’t just sit at home doing nothing while the Nazis killed and tortured their way through Europe. You had to do something. 

Of course there wasn’t much you could do on the front lines being a woman and all, but you could help heal any man that was on your side of the war. That’s how you ended up on the Exeter as a nurse, Lord knows they needed as many as they could get.

It was strange being ogled and desired by all the men, but you knew they must have not seen a woman in a long time. You found that some men would even get injured on purpose just to see you, some you even had to beat off with a stick like a rabid dog. And there were times you regretted your decision, but you felt it would be worth it in the long run. You finally felt like you had a purpose and you felt good knowing you were on the right side of the war. But the one thing, well, person, that really got on your nerves was Tom.

Tom was different, in a way that he managed to get on your nerves more than others. Somehow. Just something about his attitude and how he went about his life on the ship. It’s like he didn’t even want to be there, just wanting to stir up trouble. He picked so many fights, he was actually one of the first to come to see you for that exact reason when you boarded the ship.

He seemed shocked to see a woman on the ship, but also intrigued. Mostly intrigued.

He had a busted lip and bloody knuckles and you had a hard time keeping in your disapproval for the infighting. “Problem, miss?” Tom spoke up, a smirk already playing at his lips as he watched you clean up his wounds intently.

You shook your head, avoiding his eyes. “No problem here, sir. Just find it a bit counterproductive to pick a fight with someone on the same side as you.”

“Counterproductive.” He scoffed, curling his top lip in a sneer. “Then maybe that bloke should’ve kept his mouth shut about my canary.”

“You picked a fight just because of a bird?”

“Maybe.”

After that day, Tom kept coming back, not even because of the fights sometimes. Most of the time he liked to see what you were up to, knowing damn well you were always busy helping other sailors with their injuries or illnesses. He didn’t care about that, he only wanted to distract and annoy you. And it almost always worked. Maybe it was because you were a woman and he saw you as an easy target, someone to toy with other than his fellow sailors. There were more than a few times he had you flustered, and it bothered you to no end, mostly because he was actually affecting you.

“What’s a woman like you doing in a place like this, hm?” Tom teased, leaning against the counter you were working at.

You shrugged. “Just doing my part, like the rest of you.”

“My sister went off to sing for the men, to liven their spirits and the like. What about you? You gonna liven up my spirits too? Although, you don’t necessarily have to sing to do that.” He smirked, but that only made you scoff, attempting to fight off an oncoming blush to your cheeks.

“Your charm won’t work on me, Mr. Bennett.”

He smiled, almost genuinely. “Oh, so you think I’m charming?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think you know damn well that you are.”

It was like this almost everyday, always around the same time. He must’ve been on a break or something at those times because it was like clockwork. You started to get excited whenever that specific time came around because you knew that meant that handsome bastard would be coming to annoy you in his special way. It gave you something to think about other than gruesome wounds you had to treat sometimes, or the fact that there was always a possibility that you could die. 

But just before you could get in your own head about that, in the corner of your eye, you saw Tom leaning against the doorframe to your nurse’s office. “You just going to stand there all day, sailor?” You teased as you cleaned some of your equipment.

Tom shrugged with a smirk, smoking a cigarette as he watched you. “I wish. I’ve got a nice view.”

“Thank you for your prompt visit, Mr. Bennett. Now leave me be, I have to make sure I’m not distracted whenever another sailor comes in.”

“You do know that some of the men are getting hurt on purpose just to see you, right?”

“Maybe.”  He hummed in disapproval, but you only smirked. “It’s not like you don’t do the exact same thing, Mr. Bennett. You are an arsehole but I never took you for a hypocrite.”

Tom scowled. “Yeah, well, I’m not like any one of these bastards. They think they actually have a chance with you when they clearly don’t.”

“Oh, and you think you do?” You cross your arms with a scowl resembling his.

“I know I do.” He replied, making you scoff in annoyance. “I see the way you look at me. How you look me up and down, how you can barely keep eye contact with me.” You freeze in place when Tom takes a few steps closer to you, feeling his body heat radiate off of him and onto you. “How your body tenses up when I get close.” You quickly look away from him with a frown, but he places his fingers underneath your chin and gently forces you to look back at him. “There’s no need to feel ashamed, miss. Your body knows what it wants…what it needs.” You allow your eyes to slowly shut as Tom leans in, feeling his breath on your lips. “See how your body responds to me when I’m not even doing anything?” He chuckled lowly.

You lightly gasped as Tom pulled away suddenly, the warmth of his body and hands leaving too soon. “What?”

Tom smirked proudly as he went to walk out of your office. “Have to go perform my sailor duties, miss.” He said with a wink.

You exhaled shakily as you were left entirely flustered, a deep scowl coming to your face as he did that to you and just left like that. He was only toying with you, that bastard. Ha, well, you’re not likely to fall for that again. No way.

Turns out, you didn’t have to worry about Tom flustering you again because after that day, you never saw him. He was avoiding you, for some reason. You didn’t think you would ever understand him. He was sending you so many mixed signals and it was confusing the hell out of you. You did find him incredibly attractive, but his personality left something to be desired. You didn’t think you could actually be with a person like him, but you couldn’t possibly know what the future held.

It was only a week later before Tom visited you again. It was at a late hour, when most of the crew would be asleep. But you were up late, studying a book of rare illnesses just in case, you always found you’d rather be safe than sorry. You were so buried in the pages you didn’t even notice Tom staring at you, the smell of his cigarette alerting you that you weren’t alone. “Shouldn’t you be asleep, Mr. Bennett?” You asked, only glancing up at him for half a second.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He entered your office, closing the door behind him, taking a seat on your desk.

“Do you have an injury that needs tending to, Mr. Bennett?”

“No.”

“Then would you kindly leave my office?” You stood up from your seat, marking your place in the book and putting it back on a shelf behind you.

You could hear the man let out a short chuckle from behind you. “Giving me the cold shoulder, eh?”

You frowned as you turned back around to face him, the sight of him resting one leg on your desk with flicking his cigarette ash in a pile on your once clean table surface irking you. “If my memory serves me correctly, it’s you who’s been giving me cold shoulders this past week?” You snarked, but that only made him smirk, which annoyed you even further.

“Been keeping track, have ya?”

You rolled your eyes. “I suggest you leave, Mr. Bennett. Sleep. You need your rest. Who knows, maybe we’ll be bombed tomorrow and you’ll be too sleepy to defend yourself.”

“That a threat, miss?”

“Like I said, just a suggestion. Nothing more.”

Tom put out the end of his cigarette on the desk, standing up and stepping closer to you as you stepped back, only to find yourself against the wall with nowhere to go. He looked you up and down with his signature smirk. “So, it’s not an order then?” You flinched when Tom ran his pointer finger along your jawline, his expression softening slightly. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Not unless you ask.” You exhaled shakily as he gently lifted up your chin, his breath on your lips making your eyelids droop. “Just say the word, and I’ll go.”

“Is that what you want?” You whispered. “To run away, like last time? You gonna run away from me, Tom?”

Tom’s expression hardened at your words before closing the gap between each other's lips, kissing you rough and hard, not even giving you enough time to gasp at the sudden action. You felt lightheaded and weightless as he pulled you to him by your hips, kissing you with a bruising force that made you wince. He pulled away briefly to look into your eyes, almost hoping to see some semblance of hatred or fear in them, but he only found a dark lust, definitely resembling his.

You were breathless as he turned you around and pushed you up against your desk, helping you sit up on the wooden surface. He drove his knee in between your legs, forcing them apart and promptly maneuvering his hand up your skirt and into your undergarments. You gasped loudly as he found your clit, rubbing harsh circles as he sloppily kissed down your neck. He inserted two of his long fingers inside you as he frantically undid the buttons on your top, almost breaking some off. He roughly tore down your brassiere, groaning at the sight of your breasts finally coming free. You whined and squirmed as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace, not stopping even when he went to unbutton his trousers, but you helped him with that, almost just as desperate to feel him inside you as he was.

Without warning, he removed his fingers only to immediately replace them with his cock. He filled you to the brim in one fluid motion, the two of you moaning loudly in unison. He rested his forehead against yours, each other’s panting breaths intermingling as he stilled inside you, allowing you a moment to relax before he started thrusting languidly. You could feel every inch of him as he stretched you out, over and over again with each rut of his hips. He kept an intense eye contact with you, studying your face every time he bottomed out, committing to memory every pleasurable facial expression you made any time he hit that special spot inside of you, making sure to angle his hips that way each time.

It was almost too much, the eye contact. You tried to look away briefly a couple times, but he kept you looking at him with a firm grip on your jaw, so firm it was painful. But his cock was making you feel so good you had to focus on the pain to really feel it. “Fuck…” Tom moaned, picking up the pace, the desk squeaking loudly every time he thrusted harshly, all your writing utensils and other miscellaneous items falling over on the floor that you’d have to pick up later. He brought his hand down to rub his thumb on your throbbing clit, his eyebrows furrowing tightly as you moaned his name. “Yeah, that’s it. Keep clenching around me. Soak my cock with that pretty pussy of yours.”

His heavy accented words went straight to your core, adding to the already all-consuming buildup of pleasure in your body. Tears came to your eyes as he sped up his ministrations, his thumb on your clit and his cock pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt. “Oh god, ‘m gonna come.” You whimpered breathlessly, unable to catch your breath, almost feeling like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.

“Oh, fuck, yes.” Tom groaned loudly as he felt you pulse around him, finding your release and digging your nails into his shoulders as you rode it out on his cock. He watched as you arched your back and your head thrown back in pleasure, spasming around him with little to no care for how you might’ve looked in this state of euphoria. This sight is what finally pushed him over the edge along with you, thrusting into you as fast as possible until he pulled out just in time to shoot him cum all over your pussy, watching the milky white liquid dripping down into your wet folds and creating a small puddle underneath you on the desk. It was a fucking Renaissance painting, more beautiful than whatever Da Vinci or Michelangelo could ever paint.

It was a moment of pure exhausted bliss, bathing in the afterglow and feeling like nothing could touch either of you. But that all came to an end once Tom saw the loving smile on your face, leaning forwards to kiss him, but only to be disappointed when he turned his face so you could only kiss his cheek. “Tom?” Your sweet voice seemed to bring him back to the real world. He blinked in shock, quickly avoiding eye contact and stuffing himself back into his pants, making a break for the door before you could say another word, leaving you flustered and confused once again.

What went wrong? Did he think you were bad at sex? You hadn’t gotten any complaints before. Maybe he thought he was bad at sex? But no, he was too arrogant and full of himself to think he was bad at anything. Maybe he was just toying with you as he had done before, but you didn’t think he’d take it that far. You felt empty, not just physically, you had given a piece of yourself to Tom now and he didn’t even seem to appreciate it. He left you with an aching heart and his cum between your legs.

He didn’t know why he did it. His first instinct was to run. That’s what he does now, run away from everything. From his father, his sister, his jail time, his home. Now you. Why must he run from everything in his life? Even from someone as good as you? Maybe that’s why, because you were. Good. And Tom? He knew he didn’t deserve you, but that didn’t make him want you any less. He has always been selfish, he knew that. He was selfish to take you, give you a false sense of hope that he cared for you and wanted you any more than a quick fuck. He didn’t really care for you, right? That’s what he told himself. That’s what he told himself every time he saw you, as you worked or cared for the injured crew with that sweet smile on your face. That’s what he told himself whenever he felt a pang of anger and jealousy whenever you would show any other man attention. That’s what he told himself when he touched himself to the thought of you. That’s what he told himself when he felt the need to hold you in his arms after he ravaged you that night.

Tom briefly saw the hurt look in your eyes as he ran from you, slapping himself once he reached his quarters. Idiot, he told himself, idiot, idiot, idiot. He told you himself that he wasn’t going to hurt you, and yet…

You didn’t talk to him at all after that. You saw him throughout the ship every day, but the look on your face told him to stay the fuck away whenever he made eye contact with you. He wanted to talk to you, but he wasn’t that stupid that he’d willingly go into the lion’s den. Though, he knew he’d have to face your wrath eventually. He thought he’d give it a couple weeks, to let you calm down so you didn’t knee him in the balls, though, he knew he would deserve it. But unfortunately, he was never given that chance.

Everyone on the ship froze as the sirens went off, the lights turning red as they were alerted that their other ships had been sunk by the enemies. They were determined that they weren’t going to be next. Tom saw you run about, gathering your med kit and making sure to go wherever you were needed as all hell broke loose. Your face looked calm, driven. He found himself admiring you in that moment as he felt his chest freeze up in a panic, but beneath the surface you were feeling the exact same thing. You both made eye contact with each other for a second, but that’s all the time that was needed to express to each other what you each wanted to say aloud: Be safe.

Tom tried to focus all his attention on loading the cannons to fire back at the enemy, until a blast shook the entire ship. He heard screams, and felt a sudden heat from above. Tom looked up, and as the ceiling filled with fire, he had one singular thought as he felt the flames travel down quickly: you.

Even when he was knocked out from the blast, the first thought when he came to was about you, if you were okay. Where had you been during the blasts? Were you hurt? Were you dead? He tried not to think about it as he cut off the circulation to one of his fellow crewmates. “We’re gonna need a medic down here, sir!” He shouted up to one of his officers.

“The medics are in worse shape, blown to bits or wishing they were at the moment.”

Tom froze, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. Ignoring the howling screams of the man who had lost an arm, he stood up and faced his officer. “What about Miss L/n?” He asked lowly, only to get no response. He scowled, surprisingly himself and his commanding officer as he shoved the man against the wall, getting right up in his face. “What about Y/n?!” He yelled, making the man flinch.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” He pleaded, ripping Tom’s hands away from where they held on tightly to his uniform. He let him, unmoving, frozen in shock and dread. He closed his eyes. Please, don’t be dead…please, don’t be dead…

After he helped the injured he found or anything else he was ordered to do, he quickly made his way down to where the injured people were and he was praying the whole walk there that you’d be there helping other people and not the one being helped. He never saw your dead body, so that was a good sign.

He took a deep breath as he pushed open the door to the injured wing.

A wave of pure relief washed over Tom’s whole body as he saw you resting in a cot, a large bandage over your arm and neck. He could see the faintest burn marks traveling up past the white cloth. You didn’t look well, but you were alive and awake. He almost chose not to disturb you, he was afraid you’d yell at him to leave as soon as you laid eyes on him. But he needed to talk to you, at least once, just to make sure you were okay. Even just to receive your cold shoulder.

“You’ve seen better days.” He teased cautiously as he approached you, also relieved that you didn’t look at him in disgust like you had once before. He could take a breath, finally.

A pang of fear and panic washed over you as you saw him, looking him up and down, wincing at his ash, dust, and blood covered skin. “So have you, sailor.” You smiled weakly, a chuckle escaping your throat before it sent you into a fit of coughs, waving him off as his expression turned into worry. “I’m alright, just some burns. Nothing I can’t handle.”

He hesitated. “I’m…glad.”

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Oh, so you care about me now, huh?”

Tom nodded with a frown, knowing he must’ve deserved that. “I shouldn’t have run away that night. You have every right to be angry with me. I know that. I was just…scared.”

“Scared?” You questioned, and he nodded once more. “Of what? Me?”

“Yes.” He whispered. “And of me. That night, I felt…” He could barely get the words out, it was so foreign to him to be vulnerable. But if he wanted to keep you in any capacity, he’d have to get over himself. “I felt something I’ve never felt before.”

“Coming?” You joked halfheartedly, your chest blooming with warmth as he chuckled in annoyance, showing his adorable crooked smile.

“No.” He huffed in amusement, struggling to keep eye contact with you, your gaze so intense and never wavering from him. “Look, I…” He sighed, “I’m not the type to…fall for someone. That’s not me, that’s never been me, and yet…”

“And yet?” You asked hopefully.

Tom rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna make me say it, are you?” He smiled as you giggled. “I have. I’ve fallen, despite my best efforts. I know I’ve hurt you, and I can’t promise I won’t do it again. I can’t promise to be a good partner, can’t even promise to remember your birthday or bring you flowers every day or anything of the sort, or even to stay alive during this bloody war. But I do want you. I do.” He leaned in close, his lips next to your ear. “And it’s not just because your pussy’s the finest thing I’ve ever felt.” He whispered, causing you to smack his chest as he laughed, happy to see that he could still make you blush like a teenage schoolgirl. “Do you believe me?”

You sighed, causing him to frown, his eyes stared up at you like a kicked puppy. “You did hurt me, Tom. I didn’t understand. And even being hurt…I do.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “What’re you saying?”

You smirked softly. “You’re gonna make me say it, huh?” You chuckled. “I believe you, Tom. And I do want you. Though, I also can’t promise I’ll be a good partner either.”

Tom smiled as he shook his head. “I’ll have you in any way that I can.” He almost leaned in to kiss you but stopped himself. “I’d absolutely devour you right now but I don’t think everyone here would take too kindly to that. Plus, I want you all to myself.”

“And I’d rather not irritate my burns.” You added, pulling at the ends of the bandage on your arm.

Tom settled beside you, sitting on the edge of your small cot, holding your hand in his. “Well, let’s win this bloody war, and then maybe we can live out the rest of our days on a farm with eleven goats or something.” Tom chuckled, kissing your knuckles.

You giggled. “Yeah, let’s win this war.”

~~~~~~~~~~

i demand more Tom fics pretty please🥺

#world on fire #world on fire bbc #tom bennett #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x fem!reader #tom bennett x f!reader #tom bennett smut #ewan mitchell

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Promise Woven in Silk

18/12: Letters & Lingerie Kink - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: suggestive letters, masturbation (m), p in v sex A/N: thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for checking my Tom Bennett was cunty enough 🤭

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Tom couldn't wait to be off this fucking boat.

It was a sort of slum in motion, but with the threat of being killed or drowned.

He made his own fun, practically forcing people's hands into betting on the day his canary laid an egg, pissing off the commanding officer and choosing rather colourful language when he was speaking to people of a higher rank than him. Not like he gave a shit.

But he only did those things because he was Tom.

It didn't make him really happy.

The only thing that managed to pull a smile to his face were letters with her handwriting on the front.

It felt wrong to call her a sweetheart so to speak. After all, at first there was no expectation of anything deeper, not wanting to get involved in something so trivial before he decided to disappear abroad. But it was exactly that expectation that drew him to her.

She wasn't desperate and needy. And yes, he'd tease her for it, but she was so fiercely independent, she turned her nose up at how a woman should conventionally act towards someone she liked.

He loved her for that.

He leapt onto the top bunk, checking the room was clear before pulling the sealed letter from his pocket, the paper slightly crumpled with her swirly feminine handwriting decorating the front.

Dearest Tom,

I hope you are settling into navy life well and are not causing too much trouble for the people who have the displeasure of being around you all day and night. 

He smirked. She knew him too well.

As I write this, my stomach flutters at the thought of your upcoming shore leave. I have been entirely too impatient to not tell you that I have concealed a great secret from you, one I should hope you will be pleased to uncover upon your return to me.

Picture me, with delicate lace trimming framing the curves of my body, meant for your eyes only of course. The fabric, as smooth as a moonlit ocean, holds promises of stolen moments where you are once again by my side.

I must confess, once you are back I scarcely think I could ever let you go again. The mere thought of you being here with me has a pleasant, exciting effect on my inhibitions. An effect, I dare say, you are keen to replicate.

I anticipate the shared warmth of our reunion, one I have no doubt you have sorely missed.

Yours in fervent longing…

He swore his mouth was agape, before a sly grin slipped onto his face.

Jesus Christ.

Tom's baby blues flitted over her handwriting, as if needing to commit the words to memory over and over to make certain he was reading the same thing.

His fingers gripped the delicate paper noticeably tighter as his mouth went dry.

Cheeky fucking minx.

Completely naturally, he brought the paper to his face, sighing longingly at the familiar scent of her perfume. She'd no doubt spritzed it a few times before sealing it, intent on torturing him even further as if the words alone had not done so.

Her scent flooded his mind, making way in his brain and pushing all the blood there south, his manhood pulsing almost uncomfortably at the memory of her.

The way he'd left her lingered there.

She had his white shirt around her shoulders and completely nothing else, her breasts peeking teasingly against the thin fabric as if to tempt him to stay when she knew he couldn't.

He'd almost jumped right back on her when she rose to her knees and plucked the post-coital cigarette from his lips to have a sweet, shallow drag of her own, her eyes aglimmer with mischief and sparkled with lust. 

And he's not ashamed to say that the image of her lips around the cigarette had him wishing they were around him instead. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, massaging the length that would not fit in her perfect mouth.

And so here, miles and miles from her, but unable to think of anyone or anything but her, he slipped his hand into his trousers, keeping her letter close to his face and pumped himself needily, imagining it was her grinding her hips atop him, her moist lips parted with those sounds he loved so much slipping forth.

He spilled himself over his knuckles in no time with a choked moan that he had to keep quiet.

It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Cheeky. Fucking. Minx.”

Tom practically skipped through off the train onto the platform, resisting the urge to break into a run as he played the route to her flat in his mind and how to get there the fastest.

It felt like he'd had a perpetual need for her ever since he read her words, which was more akin to pornography than an innocent love letter, having the desired effect of keeping him rock hard, fists clenched and jaw tightened.

God, she'd pay for that.

His boots thumped as he made his way up the back stairs to her flat, fists rapping on the door rapidly and excitedly, his chest feeling all tight and fluttery.

Every second there was no answer, his leg bobbed with anticipation.

Tom's tongue poked his cheek as the door slowly cracked open, a smile working its way to his face.

Her hair was waved over her shoulders, a satin dressing gown around her and tied at the middle, accentuating her waist, with her legs all bare and poking tantalisingly out beneath the rich fabric.

She herself gave a smirk, pulling the cigarette from her lips with two of her manicured fingers.

“Hello, sailor.”

Fuck, her voice.

She squeaked in surprise as Tom's tall form had to twist to force his way in, his bag forgotten to the floor with a thud, finding better purchase on her body as he surged down to meet her lips halfway. She smelled and tasted just as he remembered.

Bodies touching and smirking between fervent kisses, he mumbles between them, “Hello, beautiful.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and equally sank to that spot between her thighs that grew moist, aided by the endless weeks without his presence.

“I can't believe you sent me such racy letters. You just want to get me in trouble, don't you... and believe me you're doing a fantastic job at it.”

She hummed, pulling away to look up at him, smirking as he plucked the cigarette from her to take a drag for himself.

“You've got to have something to look forward to on shore leave, Bennett.”

He grinned with all his perfect teeth, stubbing it out once he was done with it and running his tongue over his lips.

She scrunched her nose, her hands around his shoulders as she craned up to meet his misty gaze, “in any case, I don't know what you mean. My letters were perfectly well-meaning and innocent.”

He scoffed, the smoke leaving between his pink lips, blonde eyebrows raised, “innocent? Those letters could be classified as a war crime.”

Her lips part involuntarily, warmth gathering in her gut as his hands lay flat either side of her waist.

"Now, where's my promised prize? To celebrate my return.”

She bit back a grin, her hands sliding down his chest to the tie at her front, fingers pulling it loosely unbearably slowly.

Tom swore he ascended to heaven once the silk parted to reveal what she'd promised beneath, a delicate lacy number that seemed to drift over every curve and left very little to the imagination.

 “Now that's what I call a greeting and my reward.”

His hands assisted in pushing the silk off her shoulders, leaving her standing in her silk sleepwear, the front dipping right where the shadow of her breasts appeared.

He grinned like a schoolboy, raking in every piece of her he'd been unable to see for weeks. God, maybe even months.

“You know, I almost thought you were lying in your letter and you didn't actually have this... but you surprised me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as they both leaned in, dragging his nose over her cheekbone and placing several kisses, too chaste for his nature, along her jawline.

“I couldn't possibly do that to you, Tom.”

She giggled girlishly as his hands were now unable to stop their journey around her body, squeezing and moulding the flesh to his palm as he guided her to her bed. He stood, looking down as she lay there waiting for him with that honey-like gaze, biting her lip when she saw him work on his own clothes.

Once he got to his belt, she lifted her hands to the straps of her brassiere, to pull them down, until Tom tutted at her, kneeing her legs apart in reprimand, earning a confused expression.

He loved it when she looked all dumb like that.

He smirked, “Maybe I want you to keep it on. You look good in it.”

At this she lowered her hands, eyes glimmering with mischief as she watched him struggle with his belt.

She smiled smugly, “have you gone soft on me, Tom Bennett?”

“Soft is the opposite of what I am right now, love.”

A soft giggle slides past her lips as Tom looms above her, shoving his trousers past his hips as they snag on nothing, his eyes hardening  the more frustrated he gets. But it quickly dissipates, core clenching around nothing once he pulls himself from his underwear, hardly having to stroke himself to full attention.

His fingers creep along the side of her thigh beneath the delicate lace, swiping the pads of his fingers against her, grinning widely when he finds his words and actions have had the desired effect, her hips twitching upwards at his touch. 

“Oh, love. You’re fucking soaked for me.”

His ministrations become rough almost instantly, tugging the silk to the side and running the fat head of his cock, red and weeping against her womanhood. She watches the way his chest inflates and deflates with heavy breathing, at how the dog tag there glimmering in the low light around his neck, looking down between them, the air feeling hot and only the sounds of pure carnal desire rumbling in their throats. 

“Tom - please -”, she mewled longingly, trying to move her hips to gain friction as he teases her bud with the tip of his length. 

A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest, “God I fucking love it when you beg. What do you think, should I make you do it again?”

She shakes her head quickly, closing her eyes and turning away with a warm face at the intensity of his gaze down at her. 

He huffs another laugh and lays atop her, pushing her leg apart with his knee and pressing a kiss to her temple, “It’s alright, love, too fucking impatient for that.”

Her mouth falls open, warmth flooding her as he pushes into her agonisingly slowly, splitting her apart on his length to slide into her slick walls. Tom can’t help but screw his eyes shut, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her perfume as her warmth squeezes him and her fingernails leave crescent-moon shaped marks on his back.

He barely waits to reach the end of her before he moves, his hips meeting hers softly at first, but increasing in vigour once he hears her tiny little whimpers, and the way she presses her lips together to try and be quiet. 

Ever stubborn. 

Skin meets skin with quiet smacks, neither needing to say anything (except for the occasional ‘fuck’ encompassed by a low moan from Tom) but just basking in this closeness they’d been deprived of in all the time they’d been away. He is sure he could stay between her legs all fucking day, squeezing the flesh of her thighs and tasting her lips on his. 

“Fuck - ‘m gonna-”, he moans lowly, his hand running up the nape of her neck and pulling the strands of her hair through his fingers, not enough to hurt. Her core tightens around him, head thrown back into the mattress, lips parted. 

“oh - fuck, yes-”

With a choked moan, he takes her over the edge with him, holding her so tightly that had he been in his right mind, he���d think he was hurting her. But she doesn’t protest. She only loosens her grip on him when his thrusts falter to a stop, but his length remains tucked inside her, shuddering when he feels her core clenching around him in the aftermath of her peak.

His normal attitude clouded by the haziness sex, he rests on his forearms above her, giving an exhausted smile that she returns. 

“That the greeting you were hoping for?” she asks, her breath coming in short, hot pants.

And just like that, the Tom Bennett grin returns, leaning down to capture her lips again, “Yes, but I’m not done with you yet.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

#tom bennett smut #tom bennett x you #tom bennett world on fire #tom bennett angst #tom bennett #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #tom bennett wof #tom bennett x oc #tom bennett x female reader #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett fan fiction #tom bennett fan fic #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fic #tom bennett fanfic #12 days of smuff #tom bennett imagine

[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.

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @bellaisasleep @snh96 @echos-muses @bl4ckph0enix @autumnhymns @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr

#12daysofsmuff #12 days of smuff #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 #ewan mitchell #aemond #tom bennett x reader #tom bennet x reader #tom bennett world on fire #tom bennett fic #tom bennett x oc #ewanverse

[fan-goddess]

Could you do Tom Bennett X corruption/innocence and stepcest for kinktober?

Authors Note: Of course! Though because stepcest wasn’t in my original list, I won’t be writing it whilst I do this. I have nothing bad towards it I just don’t want to write it if I haven’t established I’d write, if that even makes sense? Hope you still enjoy it though!

Warnings: Corruption, innocence kink, some blasphemy, oral f receiving, choking, claiming, almost a yandere sort of thing if you squint cause it gets sorta dark at the end (if I forget/miss any let me know!)

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

Tom Bennett remembered the day you moved next door as clear as day.

He remembers looking out the top window of the house at the sound of chatter down bellow, and seeing you right then and there practically seemed to take his breathe away.

He remembers that you wore a light pink sundress whilst you helped your family out with the moving boxes, and most clearly of all how it flowed with the slight breeze, rising up slightly to show your no doubt soft thighs to him.

After he’d gone downstairs and insisted he’d help you with the boxes, claiming a pretty lady like yourself shouldn’t risk dirtying her palms with hard labour, the blush you rewarded him with was all worth it.

Ever since then, it was moments like that what brought him all that closer to the heaven between your thighs.

Complimenting your non-revealing clothes that every time he sees you in them makes him want to tear them off and see what’s underneath. Insisting he helped you with carrying anything into the house just so he could get a look at the layout for any future visits.

It was how he had access to your house currently.

“Let me carry that for you love! Can’t have a pretty girl like you getting yourself all dirty now can we!” He grins, taking ahold of the bag on your shoulder like clockwork and walking towards the door with you trailing behind him like a puppy on a lead.

“Thank you Tommy, but you do know you don’t need to always do this?”

“Nonsense love! Gotta look after my pretty woman!” He insists, smirking to himself when he sees the familiar light blush taking over your cheeks as you unlock the door for him.

Tom walks over the dining table as usual and begins to unpack the bag. It’s just regular food items. Apples, some meat products, eggs, that sort of stuff. Yet still, he takes his time unpacking it all to stare at you just standing there pretending not to watch his arms whilst he stretches them purposefully to put stuff in the cupboards.

“Need help with anything else love? Mummy and daddy gone for the day have they?”

“Oh yes they’ve gone to visit nana in Norwich, as she hasn’t been feeling well lately according to her letters. But Tommy I don’t need anything else! Really!” You insist, shaking your head to emphasise.

“Oh well love, it’s a good thing I think your being a bad girl and lying to me…” Fuck… if this goes South he’ll never forgive himself. But it’s now it never really, Tom thinks stepping towards you slowly.

“I-I don’t know what you mean-“

“Oh I think you do!” Tom insists, practically stalking towards you till your backs against the doorframe, and his own body leans over yours with an arm over your head for that extra affect.

One good thing about the position. He can see your chest rapidly rising up and down with your shallow breaths you cannot seem to be able to hold.

“I think you’ve been a naughty girl indeed. A naughty girl who goes as far as touches herself to the thought of her neighbour…” It’s a wild shot in the dark, even he has to admit as he murmurs it into your ears. But by the way your eyes widen and sink to the floor while you bite up lower lip hard between your teeth, he suddenly feels like he’s hit a bullseye playing darts drunk.

“How did you know…” You whisper, your eyes locked only on the floor by his feet. But when he places a finger on your chin to lift your head and meet your eyes, he almost chuckles seeing your innocent eyes staring so intently at him.

“It doesn’t matter right now little one. All that matters, is this.” Tom feels his heart may fall from his chest with how hard it beats, as he leans his head forward and connects lips with you.

He can tell your inexperienced. Your clumsy with how your lips move whilst his own hold back dramatically in the intensity he wishes to unleash on you.

Yet your hands seem to have a mind of their own.

One clasps around the hair on the back of his neck to tug slightly, whilst another clenches on the front of his plain shirt.

It seems that you are as keen for this as he is…

“What an eager girl…” Tom grins, detaching himself from your lips and smiling at your whine of annoyance.

“Maybe we should go to your bedroom little one. I’m curious to see if the carpets match the drapes…”

The blush Tom is rewarded with as he leads you to upstairs, nearly is better than what he wishes to achieve.

When he gets up the stairs with you in tow, Tom looks for you to lead him to where he needs to go. And it is with great amusement when he gets lead into a room right of the landing, that is bright pink and filled to the brim with books of all titles.

“My little ones a little scholar is she?” Tom muses, teasing you as he leaves lingering kisses on your lips, the sound of which echoes in the small room. He barely thinks there’ll be enough room for the two of you there, but even he thinks it’s a bit too far to suggest your parents bed. Not with what he want to do to you anyways.

“Tell me little one. Have you read on any human anatomy before?”

“Yes Tom. I have. Though not much. Daddy didn’t like me reading them as he said they were too dirty for me.” You murmur, clinging to his clothing almost desperately.

“Well. What I am about to teach you, will be more helpful than any of those books you’ve ever read.” Tom whispers, slowly unbuttoning the clasps on your dress to reveal yourself to him.

And when Tom gently positions you on the bed where you’re left laying naked for him to ogle and admire, Tom feels practically breathless.

Your tits and naked body feels like such a temptation, that he feels at liberty to compare it to Eve and the apple. Only his desired fruit is a lot more wet and sweeter than some normal apple…

When he kneels and leans forward and begins to taste you, he can’t help himself from groaning and taking your body in his hands to keep you still whilst you thrash above him. Your hands gripping tightly in his hair whilst you cannot seem to handle this new sensation running through your whole body.

“Oh fuck Tommy so good please please pleeease I can’t- I can’t-“ You scream, “S-somethings happening! I think I need to pee” You whine some more. It’s unsurprising that a girl like yourself would know what is happening. Yet even still Tom takes sick pleasure in depriving these forbidden desires from you. Knowing he’s the one whose taught you this feeling. Knowing he’ll be the only one showing you this feeling.

When he feels the sudden flood of flavour of your juices as you cum, the death grip he has on your thighs will no doubt leave marks as he makes sure he’s licked every once of your pleasure from you. And when he’s hears the small whimpers of overstimulation, that’s when he knows he’s only just begun to achieve what he wanted.

Tom stands near to full height before he begins to undo his belt and his trousers. The smug and satisfied smirk on his face going unnoticed by you as you all but ogle his erection that strains from his underwear.

“W-will it fit?” You whisper, your voice sounding hoarse from your onslaught of shouts and screams from earlier.

“Doesn’t matter either way little one. I’ll make it fit whether your pretty little cunt can take it or not…” The dark tone he uses sending shivers even down his own spine as he takes his cock in hand and tugs it a couple times till he’s fully hard, before kneeling slightly and directing it to your already dripping again entrance.

As Tom enters you slowly, his eyes train only to look at your face, no matter how badly he wants to see your cunt swallow him. As the sight of your face forming that flushed dazed look is honestly better than anything he’s seen in his life. And it only gets better when he begins to slowly shallowly thrust into you in a strange mercy move, and your eyes shut tightly and your mouth makes an ‘O’ shape whilst you moan.

It’s as if he’s died and gone to heaven.

“Such a good girl for me…” He groans, finally looking down and seeing how a slight ring of your juices has already formed on his cock. “Swallowing me so well…”

He doesn’t speed up as much as he wants to. Only a little so he can wait and hear you beg for him.

“P-please Tommy! I need more!” There it is, he thinks, seeing your open your eyes slightly to look at him all prettily whilst they appear to water in front of his very eyes. “I neeeeed it!”

“Well then, who am I to deny my pretty little thing what she wants…” Tom grins, before thrusting his whole cock inside of you quickly and already picking up the pace to thrust at a steady pace.

The sounds of your whines and whimpers as you try to contain yourself makes Tom smile satisfactorily while he all but ruts into you. And when he places a hand on your throat in a no doubt claiming manner, the sounds you reward him with are music to his ears.

“Good girl… such a good girl…” Tom groans, his thumb tracing illegible things on your swollen clit that leaves you practically screaming beneath him once more.

“T-Tom, t-that feelings happening again!” You cry, digging your blunt nails into the skin of his back that causes small sharp grunts to leave him the deeper you push them into his skin.

“It’s okay little one… you can cum… do it now!” With a deep almost possessive growl coming from deep within his chest, Tom can feel your tight cunt clench around him, and his own release comes soon after as he locks his legs around your own to keep him as deep as possible.

“You were such a good girl for me…” Tom murmurs, dotting wet kisses along the length of your naked torso. He even smiles faintly when he nibbles slightly on your skin at random times and small hesitant noises chirp from your throat when he does so. “Such a good girl…”

“Tom…” You murmur, your eyes barely keeping open as they attempt to look at him all serious. It was adorable to look at really.

“Yes pretty girl?”

“What going to happen now…”

Tom looks up at you with dark hooded eyes, and when he meets your own, he can’t help himself from cupping your jaw firmly with his palm to make sure you’re awake and looking at him with wide eyes.

“What happens little bird, is that i’m gonna look after you now. And nobodies gonna touch you, not when I’m here. Not ever… not over my dead fucking body…”

#tom bennett imagine #tom bennett/reader #tom bennett x you #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett smut #tom bennett #world on fire smut #world on fire #ewan mitchell character #my k!nktober #my kinktober #kinktober #my works

[multific]

Genuine

Tom Bennett x Reader

Summary: Tom has something to prove to his father.

"And I'm not genuine? You don't think I'm genuine?"

"Are you, son?"

"I can be."

Tom stared at his father, not believing his words. He didn't know what he had been through. And Tom certainly will never tell him.

"Can you prove that?" his father asked as Tom shifted a little in his chair. "You came back from the war, but you never did anything with your life. No wife or children, do you even work?" Tom's eyes flicked up to his father's.

Tom was working yes, he worked at a local workshop fixing whatever engine was brought in.

His father knew nothing.

"I have a house."

"You were given that for your service. You never worked for it." Tom nodded. Almost three years since he was back and every time he saw his father, this was his reaction.

"You should come by this weekend," Tom said.

"You never invited me before."

"I'm putting an end to this. Come by whenever you wish, Father." Tom stood up and with that, he was off.

---

Douglas let out a long sigh as he stood on the porch of his son's home. Truth be told he never visited him before, and never got invited either so to have Tom invite him over, was a surprise.

Mr Bennett knocked on the door and he heard a soft voice from inside, definitely not his son.

You opened the door as you looked at the man.

"How may I help?" you smiled at the stranger.

"Oh-Uh. I'm- Douglas Bennett."

"Oh, right, Mr Bennett! Tom did mention you might come over! Please come in! Tommy's still at work but he should be home soon, can I offer you a drink?" you invited Tom's father in and soon he was sitting in the kitchen by the table. You joined him with a cup of tea for him.

"May I ask... who are you? Are you perhaps a nurse?"

"Nurse?"

"Yes, soldiers sometimes need help after..."

"Oh, no, I'm not a nurse. I'm actually- I'm your daughter-in-law." Douglas' eyes nearly fell out of his skull.

"Beg your pardon?" he was glad he was not drinking at that moment.

"Tommy said you... We got married last year, I have known him for five years now, we met during the war."

"Why didn't he tell me anything about this? He is married?!"

"To be honest Mr Bennett, I told him many many times to tell you. I told him to invite you over or at least to the wedding, but he is stubborn."

"You even had a wedding?"

"I would rather call it a small ceremony? I had a small cheap dress and it was done in like five minutes. It wasn't about the ceremony, but rather about us."

"You love my son?" to your surprise the man in front of you looked shocked.

"I really do, Mr Bennett. I truly admire him. I wish you would have seen him, he was always so brave, even when they got hit. He is a very brave and kind man."

Douglas looked into your eyes.

"Is this some sort of set-up?"

"Sorry?" you looked at him shocked.

"Are you faking this? My son is not married, he is not that kind of a man. The next thing you will tell me is that you are pregnant." he laughed but as he watched your face fall and you got very quiet, his laugh was cut short.

"I wish you could see him the way I do. He is kind and he takes good care of me. Upon hearing the news about the baby, he told me to stop working and stay home, he promised he will care for me."

"This is..." Douglas stood up. "HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME? How dare Thomas lie!"

"Please calm down Mr Bennett, there is absolutely no need to yell. I'm not lying." Douglas' eye was caught by the ring on your finger, he took a deep breath. "I understand this is difficult to believe, Tommy said he doesn't want to tell you because you see him as a child and he hates that. That he used to behave like a child but not anymore."

Douglas nodded and sat back down.

"Darling?" came a voice from the front door. "You won't believe it, but I got the raise! Jeff said I deserve it. Where are you, Love?"

"Kitchen." you replied as Tom soon entered. He saw his father and you by the table. "So you got the promotion? Amazing news! I made your favourite, we can all celebrate."

Tom barely heard you, his eyes focused on his father.

This wasn't Tom's plan. He wanted to be home when his father arrived. Tom searched his father's eyes but couldn't read him.

"You should have told me." Douglas spoke up.

"I wanted to."

"When? When my grandchild is running around?"

"No, possibly on your deathbed," Tom replied as Douglas scoffed.

"I have a right to know that my son is married and is about to have a child."

"Oh, your non-genuine son?" Douglas pounded his fist on the table and that really got to Tom. "Don't threaten me in my own home! You are scaring my wife, yelling in front of her. Now you know, you can leave."

"Thomas, this is not okay. You going behind my back and not involving me in your life. I wasn't that bad of a father to you." You could only look between the two. You wanted to think of a way to defuse the tension.

"Maybe not, maybe you weren't that terrible, but you sure took every opportunity to make me feel like shit. I didn't tell you about Y/N because I fear you would do the same to her or the child." there it was, Tom's heart on the table right in front of his father, you reached out and grabbed his hand from the table. Offering him a kind smile when he looked at you.

"We can fix this. I know we can, Tom. I do see now that you are not a child, you have a house and a wife, and you will soon be a father. And I would like to be involved in your life, if you will allow me."

"We could visit you Mr Bennett, weekly and go from there." you suggested and both nodded.

"Then, I will take my leave, we should all think and rest up." said Douglas as he stood up.

"One moment." you said quickly getting up and rushing to another room.

Douglas looked at his son, Tom's eyes followed you until you left his sight, this was no fake marriage, no fake relationship, he could see it in his son's eyes. Tom was in love.

"Here." you soon came back to the kitchen and handed a piece of paper to Douglas. "Congratulations, Mr Bennett. You will be a grandfather." you said with a smile as Douglas looked at the photo in his hand, an ultrasound photo of a small baby could be seen and Douglas nodded.

"Thank you, and congratulations to you two."

Soon after, Douglas left your house and you set the table for dinner, Tom ate like he didn't have food for weeks.

"Your father took the news well." you said and he nodded.

"It's because you are an angel. I assumed he yelled at you, assuming this was all faked before he settled." you nodded as well. "We will get used to it."

"What made you invite him over?"

"I wanted to be here when he arrived, he said I'm not genuine, that I only have this house because it was given to me, as if I had done nothing and earned nothing."

"He sees it now. You can't fully blame him, you were a terrible child back then." you laughed a little as Tom finished eating. "He will be a great grandfather for our child."

"You really are amazing, Love." Tom said as he watched you get up and do the dishes.

"I know I am." you smiled as you soon joined him, sitting on his lap as he kissed your lips.

His arms secure around you, one on your back the other over your belly.

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