#wof fanfiction

[aemondsbabe]

Homecoming

summary: reassurance & car sex || you're desperate to have tom before he ships off, but neither of your houses are exactly ideal options...

pairing: tom bennett x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, first time, loss of virginity, car sex, public sex (they don’t get caught, no one else sees, but it’s not in the privacy of a home so ig), fingering, fluff, tom being so sweet actually, v soft

word count: 3.1k

a/n: happy day two of 12 days of smuff!!! tom bennett makes my head spin!!!!!!! Can be read as a part 1 to A Promise is a Promise or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @violaobanion!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A loud peal of laughter erupts from Tom’s lips as the two of you stagger out of the small, neighborhood pub you frequented, each of you calling quick goodbye’s over your shoulders to your friends. The night air was crisp but thankfully not overly cold yet as you take Tom’s arm, your shoulder bumping against his as you step out onto the sidewalk.

“You’re a real firecracker, love, you know that?” He asks with a cheeky grin, draping a long arm over your shoulders as you begin the quick walk back to your family’s place. 

You can’t help but chuckle as you glance over at him, the apples of your cheeks sore from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing over the last couple hours. “‘S just the truth, Tommy,” you shrug, slightly slurring your words, “I just love you sooooooo much! Like, more than anything.”

Leaning in, Tom presses a quick kiss to your cheek and laughs once again when you stumble against him from the movement. “Easy there, tiger,” he mumbles, a soft smile on his face. The two of you amble a bit further in a comfortable, giggly silence as you finally turn the corner onto your street, “D’you love me more than Cola Cubes?” Tom asks, giggling out the words.

You throw your head back and groan dramatically before turning to him with a playful pout, “That is pure evil, that is! Making me think of Cola Cubes during rationing!” You whine, reaching up to lightly smack him on his firm chest. 

Tom merely laughs as the two of you finally come to a stop in front of your front door; spinning around, you let yourself fall back against the white-painted door, the material cool against your back through your thin blouse. You look up through your lashes at Tom, watching as he leans forward, balancing himself against the door with one arm outstretched above the two of you as his other hand comes to rest on your hip. 

“Tell ya what,” he starts, a suddenly serious look in his cobalt eyes as he leans ever closer to you and rests his forehead against yours, “I’ll save you every single Cola Cube I get in my C-rations and y’can have ‘em all when I get back to ya.” 

Your throat tightens at his words and your heart twists meanly in your chest, though you manage to turn your lips up into a small, quivering smile as you place a hand on his chest, the grey fabric of his sweater soft under your palm. “And you promise you’ll come back?” Your voice is softer than you mean for it to be, a slight hoarseness to it from how your throat pinches. 

Tom sighs softly and gently cups your chin, his hand still cool from where it had been balanced on the door. “I’ve only had you for a measly two months, you think I’m giving you up that easily?” He teases, though there’s a certain sadness in his eyes that mirror’s your own; even still, you can’t help but chuckle at his words. 

The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a moment, simply enjoying being close as neither of you are willing to say goodnight yet. After a minute, your breath hitches in your chest as you notice the shadow behind the brunette’s eyes morph into a different kind of darkness as his eyes stray to your lips.

Without a second thought, you lean in and press your lips against his, eliciting a pleased hum from the boy, the small noise vibrating against the hand still on his chest as your other comes up to rest on his shoulder. Both of his skirt down to grab at your hips and he pulls you closer to him, your heads tilting in opposite directions as the kiss deepens. A small whimper escapes your lips as he licks into your mouth, his tongue swirling against your own.

“Tommy,” you whisper, your head tilting further to the side as he presses a line of kisses down your neck, “I… I want you.” You finish shyly, teeth biting into your lower lip as he pulls back to look at you.

His breath hitches for a second before he collects himself. “Are you sure, love?” He asks gruffly, “I thought you wanted to wait till–.”

You shake your head, your eyes searching his as you fiddle with the neckline of his sweater. “Changed my mind,” the corner of your lips quirks up into a nervous smile, “Think of it as a going away present.”

Tom smiles at your words and huffs out a small laugh before nodding to the door behind you. “Whatever you wish, love. Lead the way.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you shake your head again. “Are you crazy? We cannot go in there, both my parents are very light sleepers and if my dad catches you, you won’t even make it to the Navy, much less make it home. Can’t we just go round to yours? It’s only a couple minutes away.”

“No can do, love,” Tom sighs with a shake of his head, “Even if my dad’s asleep, there’s no way we’ll get past Lois. Bloody bat hearing on that one, I swear.”

The two of you sigh, defeated, your shoulders sagging as Tom crooks an arm up, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck as he glances around, the wheels in his head spinning frantically as he tries to come up with an idea; his eyes do a double take as he spots your family’s black car sitting idly on the small driveway in front of your house and he turns to you with a sly smirk.

“What say we christen your dad’s car?”

You start to giggle, convinced he’s merely joking, although you stop when you see the look in his eyes. “Tommy, you can’t be serious,” you say with a surprised smile, “If my dad finds out we took it he’ll–.”

“Who said anything about taking it, love?” He says with a proud smirk.

You guffaw at this, staring at him incredulously. “What, you mean just here on the drive?”

“Well, why not?” He questions, exaggeratedly turning his head as he looks around, peering up and down the deserted road, “You know as well as I do that all your neighbors are old as the hills, love. Only ones out round here at this hour are you and me.”

You stay quiet for a moment, unbelievably actually considering his proposal as you glance up and down the road and well… he is right. Most of your neighbors are quite a bit older and all of their windows dark and still as you peer around. Finally, you turn back to Tom with a sigh, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Fine,” you quip, blushing slightly as he chuckles lowly, clearly pleased with himself, “Let me grab the bloody key.” You mutter with a playful eye roll as you open your front door as slowly and quietly as you can possibly manage. You duck in and quickly snatch your father’s ring of keys off the small table next to the door before quietly shutting it behind you. 

You hand the keys to Tom and follow him down the drive, a sense of giddiness quickly replacing your nerves; the brunette easily unlocks the car and quickly pulls one of the back doors open and slides inside before reaching a hand out to pull you with him.

He pounces on you as soon as you carefully shut the door, his rough hands eagerly bunching up the fabric of your blouse as he tugs it out from where you’d tucked it under your skirt while his lips move frantically against your own. 

“You’re sure?” He pants, pulling back after a moment when he feels your hands starting to tug impatiently at the bottom of his sweater, “We really don’t ha–.”

You press a finger against his rosy lips, cutting him off with a soft giggle. “I want this, Tommy,” leaning in, you trail soft kisses up his jaw to his ear, “I want you.” You whisper, relishing the way he shivers on top of you and the way the muscles of his stomach and chest twitch under your touch as you slide your hands under his sweater. 

With a nod, Tom dives in yet again and presses wet kisses against the column of your throat as he tugs you into his lap, careful not to let your head bump against the roof of the car. He groans at the feel of you on top of him and his hands move quickly as they pull your blouse up; he leans in and kisses wetly up your stomach, right down the middle until he reaches the bottom of your bra. 

His blue eyes are nearly black as he gazes up at you, questioning. A whimper slips past your lips as you answer him with a small nod, fingers threading through his short hair as he eagerly slips your bra up.

He breathes out a low, satisfied groan when your breasts are finally free, not bothering to take off your bra or blouse before he dives in. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, lips pressed against the underside of your breast, “They’re better than I imagined, so much better.”

A giggle spills past your lips before it quickly turns into a moan, your head lolling back as he latches onto one nipple, happily sucking it into his warm mouth with a satisfied grunt. “T-Tommy,” you whisper, already writhing on top of him from a few touches, “Don’t stop.” Your voice is whiny as you speak, only for you to actually whine as Tom pulls back for a second to tug his sweater over his head. 

“Relax, love,” he huffs against your chest, groaning hotly as you squirm in his lap, no doubt able to feel his cock as it hardens steadily in his pants, “‘M gonna give you what you want, gonna do right by you.” He promises, licking over your nipple before sucking at it and letting his eyes flutter shut at the way you gently tug his hair. 

The windows of the car quickly begin to fog up as the two of you move together, your breathy sighs and whimpers filling the small space along with Tom’s harsh pants and groans. You squirm in his lap as his hands make quick work of your stockings and underwear, quickly tugging them down and off your legs before he tosses them somewhere on the floor of the car. 

He looks to you for reassurance once more, which you happily give, before his warm hand cups your center, causing both of you to shudder against each other. Slowly, carefully, he parts your folds before gently rubbing a finger over your bud, chuckling when you buck into his hand with a loud moan. “That the spot, love?” His eyes flick up to your face, eager to watch your reactions as he touches you, “God, you’re dripping.” A soft sigh leaves his lips as he presses his fingers more firmly against you, flicking them over your clit. 

“Mhm, Tommy, shit,” you whine, your voice only a breathy whisper as you press your forehead against his. Your eyes flutter as your hips move against his hand, seemingly with a mind of their own, “More, please!” You whine desperately after a few moments, eyes squeezing shut at the way your center clenches around nothing.

Nodding, Tom moves his hand a bit lower, groaning at how much slicker you are here, before he runs his fingers through your folds once more, making sure to get them wet before notching two at your entrance. “Ready?” He asks softly, only slowly pushing them in once you nod. He groans along with you, marveling at how tightly you’re grasping his fingers as his cock twitches in his pants at the thought of how much tighter you’ll be around him. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groans lowly, blue eyes glancing down to watch your breasts heave as you pant on top of him, “Does that feel good, love?”

Wordlessly, you nod against his forehead, swallowing thickly. A loud moan is practically punched out of you as he curls his fingers, pressing perfectly against a small, sensitive spot inside you. Your mouth hangs open as unintelligible whines tumble from your lips, a shiver going down your spine when you see the pleased smirk on his face. 

His long fingers fuck into you for a few more moments, his thumb coming up to rub at your clit in a way that makes you see stars as you cling to him tightly, your breasts pressed deliciously up against his warm, bare chest. 

You whine, however, when his movements start to slow against you, though he’s quick to hush you, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “You want my cock, love?” He asks, pulling his fingers from you slowly before gripping appreciatively at the fat of your inner thigh. 

You pull back to look down at him, your eyebrows knitting together as a small, nervous pit forms in your stomach. “It… it won’t hurt, right?” You ask softly, the words of several of your friends echoing through your mind. 

Quickly, Tom shakes his head, one hand coming up to cup your cheek lovingly. “I promise it won’t,” he says softly, pressing a reassuring kiss to your lips, “I told you, I’m gonna do right by you.”

Hesitantly, you nod, though he must sense the nervousness that’s still pooled in your stomach. He sighs with a soft smile, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “How about you stay on top, hm? That way you control everything.”

You blink a few times, considering the offer before smiling and nodding, which draws a bright smile from the boy underneath you. You shift back a bit on his lap, giving him enough room to unbutton and unzip his pants and pull them down just enough to free his cock; your eyes widen as he pulls it free from his boxers with a relieved sigh.

“A-Are you sure it’ll fit?” You ask softly, marveling at it as he runs a hand over his length. 

He chuckles beneath you with a proud smirk as he pulls you back to him. “I’m sure, love, I promise you’ll enjoy it.” He assures you, pressing kisses down your neck as he does so. Your breath hitches as you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance, and you lean into Tom’s touch as you let him guide your hips. 

“Oh!” You shudder as you slowly sink down, breathing heavily as the head slips inside your warm center.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, his hands gentle on your hips as he lets you take him at your own pace, “Doing so well, pretty girl.”

His praises spur you on as you sink lower and lower, eyes squeezing shut as your thighs burn a little with the effort. Finally, after a few minutes, you breathe a sigh of relief as your thighs finally rest on top of his, his length pressing fully inside you.

“Y’okay?” He checks through a ragged breath, his eyes nearly slipping to the back of his head as he feels you twitch and pulse around him already, your walls suffocatingly tight against his length. 

You nod as you let yourself fall forward and press a cheek against his warm shoulder before giving a small, experimental roll of your hips. You gasp as you feel him press against you, filling you with a delicious ache. 

The two of you begin to move together wordlessly, your hands finding purchase against his firm chest as you gingerly bounce on top of him, breathily moaning in time with each thrust. Tom grunts each time you sink back down onto him, one hand gripping at your hip as the other kneads at your breast, his fingers pinching and pulling your nipple just enough to elicit adorable high-pitched whines from you. 

Your clit, still sensitive from his earlier attention, rubs perfectly against the small thatch of hair at the base of his cock and sends shivers down your spine. “T-Tommy,” you gasp, nearly doubling over as you tilt your hips, causing the head of his cock to rut against that sensitive spot within you at the same time your clit grinds against him, “I think – I, oh!” You pant against his shoulder, unable to string together two words as sparks suddenly burst behind your eyelids. 

Tom huffs out a loud groan as he feels you tense on top of him, your walls clenching around his cock wildly as your peak washes over you. He mumbles incoherent curses against your neck as his hips rut up into you. 

He holds out for as long as he can before tugging you off of his lap, one hand quickly grasping at his length as he desperately strokes it. You watch, enraptured, as his head tilts back onto the car seat, his Adams’s apple bobbing beautifully as he moans, long and loud. His cock twitches in his grasp as he finishes, painting wet, pearlescent streaks against the trembling skin of his lower stomach, his chest heaving. 

After a moment, the two of you giggle softly. You bite your lip as he bends over, only to open it in protest as he quickly wipes his spend from his stomach with your discarded stockings, “Tom! You pig!” You admonish, albeit through a surprised laugh. 

He peers up at you cheekily as he deposits your stockings on the floor of the car once again, laughing as he pulls you back to him. “You’ll wash them anyway!” He huffs, wrapping his arms around you. The two of you grow quiet for a moment, rain softly pattering against the top of the car. “Or you could keep them like a trophy while I’m gone,” he teases, chuckling once again at your small sound of disgust, “Something to remember me by.”

“But you’ll be back,” you say softly after a moment, pulling back so you can look at him properly, your wide eyes searching his, “Right?”

He sighs with a soft smile, both hands gently cupping your cheeks. “I promise, I’ll come back to you,” he says earnestly, blue eyes boring into your own, “I will come home to you, love.”

You stare at him for a moment longer before finally nodding, tucking your face against his shoulder once more and breathing in his familiar scent.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x you #tom bennett smut #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fic #world on fire #world on fire fanfiction #world on fire fanfic #world on fire smut #wof fanfiction #wof fanfic #wof smut #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #ewan nation #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #12 days of smuff

[arcielee]

It's Not Tonight

Summary: Tom Bennett slips in through your window. Paring: Tom Bennett x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.6k+ Warnings: Tom is a scoundrel, angst from a one night stand, masturbating, a smidge of voyeurism, kissing, grinding, sexual memories recalled fondly but also bitterly, overstimulation kinda? Author's Note: It has been one year since I last wrote for Tom fucking Bennett and what better way to commemorate that than something short and smutty? This takes place end of episode 1 and beginning of episode 2, for season 1 WoF. Thank you so much my beloved @helaelaemond for being my muse, for your help with this piece! Without you, it would have just been sitting in my drafts. 💜 Dividers are by @saradika-graphics 💜

It had been two weeks since Tom slipped through your bedroom window, his features pink from the night’s cold air and a boyish grin curled on his lips. You squeaked your surprise, your eyes wide as he pressed close to kiss, the contrast of his cold nose and hot mouth making your skin rise, tasting the pint he must’ve finished before he came tapping on your window pane. 

“Be quiet, pretty girl,” he had said, a murmur against your lips, and you sighed sweetly, his tongue pushing past your lips for another deep kiss. “We don’t want to wake no one.” 

This was true, as your father would often vocalize on how much he loathed, “that damn Bennett.” You quietly pulled him towards your bed. 

The next morning, your sheets held the tangy sweet scent of the euphoria he had pulled from you–several times–mixing with the cigarette smoke and a musk that was so distinctly his own. As you pulled them off to wash, you noticed his navy blue overcoat he had tossed onto your chair. You grabbed it as well, smiling with the thought it would be clean for when he came back.

But he did not come back that night, or the next one. 

It was now fourteen fucking days since that night together. Though your agitation with Tom Bennett was not as adamant on your every expression, something pointed out by your mother, it still thrummed beneath in such a way that rattled your bones. His coat was now clean and folded across the armrest, a mockery of that short-lived bliss.

You were on your bed and reliving the warmth of his voice that had tickled the shell of your ear, how his fingers so carefully peeled away your nightgown and the undergarments you had worn, the gentle nip of his mouth that trailed towards your core…

You burned with this memory, same as you had that night, rutting your nightgown to your hips, your fingers touching and trailing back up the damp fold of your underwear that was shaped to your lips before you dipped below the waistband. Your arousal was slick between your folds, a slow circular motion, just as Tom had done. 

When he did, he had asked you, “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?” 

That arrogant bastard–but your scoff came out as a soft moan, followed with his name spilling from your lips, breathless and still wanting, “Tom…”

“Yes, love?”

The voice struck cold against your spine, your hand pulling back and your eyes snapping open to see his lean figure pulling through your window. You struggled to find your voice. “I…” you were now burning from how Tom looked over you, aglow, aware, with his damn cheeky, boyish grin splayed across his perfect mouth, “...where the hell have you been?”

Tom only hummed in response, still smirking as he peeled off his shirt, his pale chest stained pink, and climbing onto your bed. You parted your legs to let him rest into the cradle of your hips, the nip of his skin against your plush thighs making your skin rise. 

When you tried to move the offending hand, he was quick to catch your wrist, the crystalline blue of his eyes boring into you, and you stared at him a moment, watching as he brought your hand closer, pressing your middle and ring fingers to his tongue, his hot mouth closing and suckling them clean. 

Your mouth opened with a soft gasp, squirming under his weight, from the sensation of his tongue licking your fingertips. He pulled your hand back with a lewd pop and let it fall back to your side, his grin still cheeky and now almost smug. 

“They had me on remand for two weeks,” his voice was low, the blue in his eyes bright, “I came here to celebrate, but I see you started already…” 

You should have pushed him off and then back out the window he crawled in from, but your body betrayed you with a warmth pooling between. Instead, you pushed to your elbows, one hand reaching to cup the back of his neck to pull him closer for a kiss, tasting the remnants of yourself, your tongue curling against the roof of his mouth. 

Tom groaned, low, returning the passion until your breath was a heated exchange. He shifted his slender hips with a slow grind against your clothed cunt and you moaned softly, nails biting into his shoulders. He reached between, his fingertips almost tickling with his touch. 

“So wet,” and he was still smug, “and it’s all for me.” 

Your eyes were glazed already, your skin warming as you processed what he said, but before a smart comment could pass your kiss-swollen lips, his hot mouth moved to reclaim yours again. He was hard already and you could feel him, pressing against the seams of his pants, pressing against you until your heart rate could now be felt in your cunt. 

“Tom,” you moaned again, your hips lifting for the friction, “I need you.”

He pulled to lay onto his back, unfastening his buttons while you slipped your panties off. You moved to straddle him, his slender frame caught between your plush thighs and his cock hard and flushed and pressed upwards, nearly touching his belly button, slotted between your soft lips. Black now almost swallowed the brilliant blue of his eyes when they focused on your nipples that were peeking beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown; you could feel him pulse beneath you. 

Tom pushed up for another kiss, fumbling to help remove your final layer, your bare chest flushed against his as he pulled you close, and his chest hair tickled. His mouth moved towards the curve of your neck, trailing to your chest, the glisten of his spit with every intimate kiss placed.

Your back arched in response, rolling your hips against him. You reached to line him with your entrance, slowly sinking onto his length; you are wet, but there was a stretch still, a fullness that Tom fucking Bennett possessed, and it was delicious. 

“Stop clenching,” he gritted once he was fully sheathed within. Your hands moved to his chest, pushing him to lay back against the pillows; it was your turn to wear the smug smirk. 

His eyes fluttered as you slowly rocked against him, so deep you swore you saw sparks when he bottomed out. His grip dimpled with the hold he had on your hips, lifting his own in response to your motion. You gasped, soft in the quiet of the bedroom, and he repeated the movement. 

“Fucking hell,” he rasped, setting a pace that sent a tingling sensation to the ends of your appendages, returning to claw at your lower core. “You feel fucking perfect.” 

You are without words, your fingertips digging red crescents onto his pale chest for balance, chasing after your pleasure. The flutter of your walls around him had Tom groaning. “Touch yourself,” he commanded, and one of your hands lifted to touch his bottom lip and, again, his mouth closed around, his tongue coating them with his spit. You pulled back and slipped them between your blossom above where his in-and-out pace continued, a milky white ring forming around his base. 

The touch was the tipping point, spilling your climax with a clenching response to the shuddering euphoria that rippled through you. You struggled to stay quiet and Tom was quick to roll you onto your back, pinning you to the mattress. 

His large hand pressed over your mouth to muffle you, sliding back in and returning to his same brutal pace. You whimpered against his palm, still very sensitive with the final waves of your last release that was trilling your spine. 

“One more for me, pretty girl,” he whispered, and your tears were already pearling, your walls clenching with your second peak–not as intense as the first, but a prolonged pleasure with the stuttering of his hips. 

Tom pulled back, still hunched over you with his tension present in his shoulders and neck, his brow focused in a furrow as he pumped his fist, his pearly spend spilling from his flushed cockhead and across your stomach. He paused, leaning close to touch his forehead to yours, a sticky sheen from his peak, before his jaw tilted up to press a messy kiss to your hairline. 

“Alright then.” 

You blinked and he was gone, already standing and tucking himself back into his slacks before reaching to toss your nightgown to your grasp. You could already feel the heat of your returned anger spilling into your bloodstream, replacing the sweetness you felt only moments before. “You taking off to disappear another two weeks then?” Your voice was tight with the question. 

His crooked grin flashed as he crawled back onto the mattress, his mouth hot and consuming, his kiss slow and searching until it drew a small noise from you. Then Tom pulled back again, grabbing his shirt. “I have somewhere to be tomorrow.”

“Court date?” You were flushed from the kiss, but your bitter tone remained.  

“They only let me out cause I said I’d join up, but I had a change of heart on the way over,” he finished the last buttons before tucking it into the waist of his slacks, his perpetual smirk playing on his lips, “I’m a conscientious objector.” 

His Mancunian drawl emphasized the final two words. “You’re a scoundrel is what you are, Tom.”

Tom only hummed, grabbing his coat and slipping his arms through the sleeves. “You would not have me any other way,” and he moved to steal another kiss, a clash of teeth and tongue that stirred your blood again. 

But before your fingers could move to comb through his sandy locks, he pulled away, disappearing out through your window and into the night. 

You fell back onto your sheets with their tangy sweet scent of the intimacy shared, of cigarette smoke and the musk that was so distinctly Tom fucking Bennett’s. 

Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @black-dread @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @theobjectofyourire @troublesomesnitch @multyfangirl

arcie's ewanverse masterlist

#ewanverse #wof fanfic #wof fanfiction #tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x female!reader #it's not tonight

[myfandomprompts]

Gone With Regrets - Masterlist

Pairing: Tom Bennett x Reader Warnings: War adventures, fluff, smut, with strong sprinkles of angst, trigger warnings on some chapters. Synopsis: You had the opportunity to teach in Manchester, and you had been lucky enough to be granted a bed at the Bennett’s place. As Europe is on the brink of war, you start to worry for your family back at home, and you are surprisingly consoled by the one man of the house you would never have thought capable of landing you an ear. It’s not that you like Tom, is it?

Lueur (Part 1) - Sirène (Part 2)

Escaping (Part 3) - Fall Gelb (Part 4)

Exodus (Part 5) - Flammes (Part 6)

Insuffisant (Part 7) - A Contre-Courant (Part 8)

Couleur de la nuit (Part9)

Back to Main Masterlist

#myfandomprompts #myfandomprompts masterlist #masterlist #gone with regret #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett #wof #wof fanfiction #usermyfandomprompts #ewan mitchell #gone with regrets #ewanverse

[thehunterstrial]

Pollux!!! Ze's the night/hive head of science and technology for the Allwings. Because Nightwings and Hivewings have completely different wings, Pollux got a little bit of both, and can't fly properly. Ze DOES have a stinger on zir tail, but its venom isn't strong enough to harm almost anything, so it's just basically a little knife on the end of zir tail.

#wof #the hunters trial #art #wof fanfiction #wings of fire #posted by ander

[glimmerspirals]

me when i write a wacky ahh fanfic in about two days bc i can’t get the idea out of my head

also wacky ahh fanart from @yu-melon​

more fanarts ^_^ spoilered for blood and gore!!!!!!

#wings of fire #wof art #wof fanfiction #fanfic #seawing #coral wof #whirlpool wof #gore

[bleulone]

WHISPERS IN THE DARK

a Tom Bennett fanfiction | Fandom: World On Fire. Rating: Mature. Status: On going. Slow updates. Type: Canon compliant. Pre Canon. Tags: Tom Bennett/Orginal Female Character, 1930s, Angst and Feels, Cinema, Coming of Age, Family, Fluff, Forbidden Romance (kinda), Hurt/Comfort, Inter-class Romance, Jazz Age, Mature Themes, Mention of Sexism, Period Drama, Romance, Romantic Tension, Slow-burn, She fell first/He fell harder, Secret Rendez-vous, Swearing, World War II.

DIANE TAIT, THE PEARL OF MANCHESTER. She has everything: beauty, intellect, money, influence... Those are few of the many traits that made the Tait family oh-so enticing, headed by none other than Robert Tait, Tait and Somer LDT’s director and former War hero. This well-off background suffices to secure the young brunette’s future: a successful marriage, a rich inheritance and a profusion of great connections. If you think about it, this could make a great film—if only Frank Capra were there to add a comic twist before directing it.

THE AVID MOVIE-GOER AND READER that Diane is knows it, no story can be immune to hindrances. As a matter of fact, her life holds troubles of its own: Harry Chase, her soon-to-be fiancé’s lack of commitment challenges the prospects of an eventual marriage and the rumors of her designation at the head of the factory already provokes a wave of hostilities. If living in this gilded cage becomes unbearable at times, escapism is exactly what Diane craves for, whether it's through fiction or reality.

WHAT DIANE DOESN'T EXPECT IS her satisfaction to find its source in an unlikely place, buried in the ocean eyes of the Bennett boy. More than just reflecting an inspiring raw truthfulness and a burning free spirit that almost consumes his notorious waywardness, they tell a captivating story—one tumultuous and chaotic yet tender and poetic, one she has never read before but soulfully desires to.

Set before and during the five month time jump that occurred in 1x01.

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֎ Read HERE on Ao3.

֎ Listen to the Whispers In The Dark’ soundtrack HERE on Spotify.

#bleulone writes #tom bennett #tom bennett fanfiction #Tom Bennett fic #world on fire #world on fire fanfic #world on fire fic #ewan mitchell #bbc drama #itv #wof #wof fic #wof fanfic #wof fanfiction #aemond targaryen #osferth #ao3 fanfic

[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

[humanpurposes]

Just for a Moment, part i

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

Tom Bennett x OFC

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

Words: 3800

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

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

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

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

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

It only got worse when his mam died.

Thursday 12th July, 1928

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

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

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

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

Until she heard a tapping on the window.

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

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

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

“Tom?” she whispered.

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

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

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

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

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

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

“Keep your voice down,” she said.

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

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

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

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

Kitty frowned. “Why not?”

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

Saturday 2nd September, 1939

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grand,” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” she says impatiently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At the pub?”

“Yeah. Right ponce in’t he?”

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

“Like I said.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stephen Wheelan!” their mother chides.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Piss off,” she grumbles.

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

“Who are they after?” Eddie asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of them ever dare to move closer than this.

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

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

Sunday 3rd September, 1939

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her heart sinks. They have Tom in handcuffs.

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

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince (comment to be added)

Series taglist: (comment to be added)

#my fics #tom bennett #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #world on fire #wof #world on fire bbc #world on fire season 2 #world on fire fanfiction #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x female reader #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennet x reader #ewan mitchell #tom bennett smut

[happilyhertale]

Finding the courage – Tom Bennett x female!reader, Part 3

Summary: You spent a sheltered childhood in Brighton. Until the time when your father died. Your mother is overwhelmed with the role of caring mother, which eventually leads you to leave home and seek happiness elsewhere. But you have not in the least anticipated what or who awaits you in your new adopted home.

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Warnings: In some parts Smut as well as Violence. There will be an extra warning for the respective parts.

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This short Tom Bennett story is based on the request that was sent to me.

The story takes place before the first season of World on fire. I hope you will enjoy the story! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 3.8k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Other stories of mine

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With your backpack on your back, you make your way to the Bennett house. It is still early in the morning, but the city is beginning to wake up. Many people are already on the streets, trying to get to work in a hurry. Here and there a few groups of children run across the streets to get to school on time. Conversations and laughter fill the streets.

You walk down the street that leads to the Bennett house. You pass all the other houses that are close together in this street. When you arrive at the Bennett house, you knock.

Lois opens the door for you and smiles, "Good morning y/n!"

You smile at her, "Good morning Lois."

As you step into the house, you notice that Lois is about to leave for work. Mr Bennett peers out of the kitchen into the hallway, "Good morning!"

"Good morning Mr Bennett!" you smile.

"I've written you a list of things that need to be done. Just do as much as you can manage!"

You nod at her

"Where you'll find the cleaning supplies and other stuff, I've also written down for you... Oh! I have to go! See ya later!"

She calls out to her father from the hallway and then hurriedly leaves the house.

You go into the kitchen and see Mr Bennett getting ready for work as well.

He smiles at you as you enter the kitchen.

"Thank you again, Mr Bennett, for allowing me to work here."

He laughs a little, "Thank you for working for us free of charge"

"Well, I get food for it," you smile at him.

He smiles, " I have to go now... Don't be scared, my son is still asleep upstairs. He probably will be for a while as he came home late... So, don't get scared!"

And with those words, Mr Bennett also says goodbye and goes to work.

You get to work as well and fetch the cleaning supplies that Lois has written down for you. You work through one task after the other. Around noon you discover the radio in the kitchen and switch it on. While you are dusting, you dance to the music in the kitchen.

"Hey Lois! Don't you have work to do? What are ya... Well... Hello?"

You turn to the stairs, startled, as the voice rings out. Frozen, you stop as you see your yesterday's saviour standing on the stairs, those beautiful blue eyes looking back at you.

"Did you like me so much to follow me, love? You could have come upstairs with me, I wouldn't have complained"

He grins at you and you look at him indignantly, "I don't think that's why I'm here," you retort.

He laughs, "Calm down love. I've been kidding ya. But what are you doing here?"

You clear your throat briefly, "I work here now. Well, sort of."

"Working?" he looks irritated.

"Well, I help your sister with the housework and in return I get to eat with you in the evening"

He smiles, "Mmmhm... so we're always here together during the day now?"

You blush slightly, "Well if you don't have a job... yes?"

He laughs softly, "This is going to be fun love."

He slowly walks back up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" you immediately bite your tongue... Why do you ask him that?

He pauses and looks at you with a grin, "I want to shower... want to join me?"

Your cheek turns a deep red, "Of course not!"

He laughs loudly and goes up the stairs, "But the colour of your cheeks says otherwise, love"

You close your eyes and have to sit down.

When Tom arrives upstairs in the bathroom, he quickly locks the door. He has to take a deep breath. He expected many things, but not to find you in his kitchen. He almost fell backwards down the stairs when you were suddenly there, moving to the music. He was desperate to see you again, but he hadn't expected to see you so soon. He grins in the mirror as he thinks of what an exciting time he has ahead of him.

You are sitting at the kitchen table cutting the vegetables for dinner. Upstairs you hear the water running in the shower. After the water has been running for some time, you blush slightly as the thought creeps into your mind that he is upstairs, naked in the shower. You quickly push the thought aside as Tom suddenly comes down the stairs.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs and you look up. His hair is still a little wet and you are tempted to just brush through it.

He lights a cigarette, "I'll be out for a moment, but I should be back for dinner."

You look at him questioningly.

"Well, in case you want to ask where I'm going," he winks at you.

You stick your tongue out at him and he laughs.

As he walks towards you, your heart almost stops.

"By the way, I'm Tom"

He holds out his hand to you. When you want to take his hand, he takes yours and gently turns it. A light kiss lands on your knuckles.

Heat rises in your cheeks.

"Do you have a name too?" you hear him whisper, while your hand still lies gently in his.

"Yea... I‘m y/n"

"Hello y/n," he looks into your eyes for a moment and you don't dare breathe.

"But now I have to go, I'll see you later love".

You don't have time to answer, Tom has already left the house.

Love... No one has ever called you that before, but the way it comes out of Tom's mouth, you kind of like it.

Shortly afterwards Lois comes home, "Heey! It's me," echoes through the hallway.

You smile as she enters the kitchen.

"So, did everything work out?"

You nod, "Of course, I got everything done."

"Great! You've already started preparing dinner... You're a darling!"

Together you are now taking care of the dinner preparation, when Lois suddenly looks at you from the side.

"Have you met my brother yet?"

You blush slightly and Lois laughs, "I'll take that as a yes."

You can't help grinning.

"I know his comments are a bit inappropriate sometimes... and you're pretty, you'll probably get a lot of pick-up lines from Tom... But he's a really good person," she smiles sweetly at you.

As the front door opens and Mr Bennett steps into the hallway, "Hello you two," he calls to you from the hallway.

You greet him as he steps into the kitchen with a newspaper under his arm. He sits down at the kitchen table and flips through his newspaper.

You eat together and talk a lot. Mostly it is just you and Lois talking, but Mr Bennett is pleased that there is such a relaxed atmosphere in the house.

When Lois suddenly asks you, " Where do you live, y/n? Somewhere around here?"

You sigh, "Mhm, well, I haven't found a room yet. But it's the next thing I want to do! And in the industrial area, behind the factory, I found a small house. It's quite spacious and there's a comfortable sofa in it."

Mr Bennett looks up from his newspaper, which he has turned back to after eating, "No, that's out of the question. You can sleep here"

Your eyes grow wide, " Mr Bennett, that is not necessary. It's already too much that I'm here during the day and get to eat with you in the evening!"

But Mr Bennett just shakes his head, "No. Absolutely not. A young woman should not have to sleep alone on the industrial area. You can sleep here, that's no problem at all."

You have to smile, "Thank you Mr Bennett."

He smiles at you, "And please call me Douglas... "Mr Bennett" makes me look even older than I really am, doesn't it?"

You laugh together.

"You can sleep here on the sofa, I'll give you a pillow and a blanket" Lois strokes your shoulder.

As Tom suddenly steps out of the hallway into the kitchen, "Well what do I hear, we have a sleeping guest?"

You bite your lip a little, just briefly, but Tom notices.

"Leave her alone Tom. Isn't your presence needed in some pub?"

Tom grins at his sister, "It's ladies night tonight. I have too much in my crotch for that to gain entry."

You blush as Lois smacks him against his arm. Douglas just sighs, but doesn't look up from his paper.

"Besides, y/n, you can sleep in my bed. I'll sleep on the sofa", Tom suddenly turns to you.

You look him straight in the eye for the first time that night, "What? I can't steal your bed"

Tom lights a cigarette, "It's not stealing if I offer it to you. Besides, you girls can chat and giggle until late into the night... and if I do want to go to bed, I can always just lie down with you and keep you company," he winks at you.

You look at him in shock, but still you feel yourself getting warm.

"Oh shut up Tom! Don't worry y/n, he won't come into our room"

Tom walks out of the kitchen laughing and sits down on the sofa in the living room.

Lois takes your hand and walks with you to the first floor. She leads you around and shows you the first floor. Meanwhile, Tom has made himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room and Douglas has gone to his room.

First she shows you the bathroom. It is a small bathroom, but it is sufficient. Next to the small shower there is a shelf on the wall where she creates space for the things you need. Through the small corridor she leads you to a room. It must be her room, which she usually shares with Tom, because there are two beds, one on each wall. In the middle of the room is a cord with a sheet hanging from it to divide the room in two. There is a small window in the middle of the wall.

"It will be more pleasant with you as a roommate"

You have to laugh for a moment, "Why is that?"

"Tom has taken to climbing through the window when he comes home late at night. The first few times I was so scared, but now it's annoying when he wakes me up," she smiles at you.

You look around the room a little as Lois makes room for your thing in her wardrobe. When your mind suddenly wanders and you have to imagine that Tom normally sleeps here …

"I know it's only a small room, but we love it," you hear Lois say as she snaps you out of your thoughts.

"No, Lois, it's perfect! And a thousand times better than the little sofa I slept on," you smile at her.

Soon you'll be in bed. You talk and giggle for a while, but eventually Lois falls asleep. You lie awake in bed and cannot fall asleep. You turn back and forth in the sheets, but Tom's scent is in your nose and it keeps you awake. You like his naturally somewhat sweet scent, which has a hint of cigarette smoke. Even though he is preventing you from falling asleep, you enjoy his natural scent in your nose. You have to grin as you press your head into the pillow.

But when you still can't fall asleep after what feels like an eternity, you decide to get yourself a glass of milk. Quietly you get out of bed and go downstairs. As you stand in the kitchen, you glance towards the living room, but the door is ajar and there is no light to be seen.

You go to the fridge and pour yourself a glass of milk. Lost in thought, you stand at the kitchen window and look out over the small backyard. The moon is high in the sky and shrouds the backyard in a faint silver veil.

"Can't you sleep?"

Startled, you turn around and Tom is standing there. Just in his boxer shorts.

"Mhm no-o, not really", you stutter a little.

He smiles, "Maybe I should have kept you company after all?"

You blush slightly, but try to keep a clear head, "In your little bed? Then neither of us would have really found any sleep"

He chuckles, "That would really have had other reasons"

You look at him, startled.

"Love, I can see your red cheeks glow even in the dark."

You snort and sit down at the kitchen table, "Are you always this cheeky?"

He smiles, "Only when I want to get someone's attention."

You shake your head but have to suppress a smile.

"Have you maybe tried just being nice and not always trying to make the other person uncomfortable?"

He sits down at the kitchen table with you, "Are you uncomfortable with me?"

Even in the darkness you can see his blue eyes. But your gaze falls on his chest and although only the moon shines through the kitchen window, you see how defined his muscles are. How his arm muscles move slightly as he slips a pencil through his fingers that was lying on the table. You could stare at him for hours, but you pull yourself together when you realise he is looking at you questioningly.

"No..." you say softly and he smiles at you.

"Okay, I'll try to be nice. How come you're so good at running a household and cooking?"

You smile, "You're really interested in that?"

He nods, "I'm nice and I want to know more about you."

You laugh softly, "Well, my mother was a lot... "busy". And I had to make sure that my big brother and I had something to eat. And yes, the house had to be cleaned as well"

"Your mother was "busy"?"

You nod and look to the side and Tom can tell you are uncomfortable.

"Okay, so then you helped take care of your big brother?"

You laugh slightly again, "That's a funny way to put it. But yes, in a way I did."

Tom smiles at you, "Where's your brother now?"

"I think in London," you say a little thoughtfully.

"So he's gone away too?"

"Yes... we both sought our fortune elsewhere"

"And... are you having any success?", and although you don't look up, you hear him smile.

You laugh again, "I can't tell yet"

Slowly you stand up and put your glass on the sink.

"But you met me", and again the cheeky grin is on his lips.

"Yes, and as I said, I can't tell yet".

He clutches his chest painfully, "Oh... Love... My heart aches… You are so harsh!"

You laugh again and you like the fact that he always seems to make you laugh.

"Good night Tom," you head for the stairs.

And you can hear him saying quietly into the room, "Good night love..."

Time has gone by faster than you would have thought. It's been a few weeks since you were accepted into Bennett House and you can't help but say it feels like home. Well, the way home should feel.

You enjoy Tom being at home in the mornings. You don't really know why his presence is so pleasant, but you just enjoy it.

As soon as you come down to the kitchen in the morning, it doesn't take long for Tom to show up as well. You talk about all sorts of topics and Tom always manages to make you laugh. It even happens sometimes that Tom gives you a hand and helps you around the house.

He even manages to refrain from his pick-up lines for a while. But, although you wouldn't admit it, you kind of like them. Every time a pick-up line leaves his lips, a warmth floods your body that seems to peak in your cheeks.

Yet sometimes, when he came home late at night, he is not in the kitchen with you in the morning. After a while, when he doesn't show up in the kitchen, you carefully poke your head into the living room for a moment and see him sleeping peacefully. The sight pleases you. Mostly he is lying on his stomach, his face pressed into the pillow, his hair a mess from sleeping and the blanket slipped down to his waist. Then you go over to him quietly and nudge him gently. Sometimes it needs a few more nudges, but eventually he responds. If he doesn't try to pull you to him on the sofa "Because he needs morning cuddles", you send him upstairs so he can sleep in peace. Often he just mumbles "Thank you, love" and trudges upstairs.

One morning Tom is sitting with you at the breakfast table. He smokes, you drink a cup of tea and leaf through a magazine. You have already done most of your work and so Tom has persuaded you to take a little break.

He watches you for a while as you leaf through the magazine, taking a sip of your tea now and then. He hates to admit it to himself, but rarely has he found a young woman so beautiful. Your big green eyes are a dream, every time you look at him he could lose himself in them. Your full lips, which look so soft that he has to pull himself together not to kiss you immediately. And your dark blonde curls that fall over your shoulders and frame your face perfectly. He also can't miss how flawlessly your clothes fall over the curves of your body, accentuating them perfectly.

And yet you are so shy, almost innocent. You blush immediately when he says something cheeky or gets a little too close to you. That often happens because he likes to sneak up behind you. Every time you turn around and suddenly find yourself standing right in front of him, you hold your breath and blush. He loves this sight. But this beautiful moment only lasts for a short time, because you then hit him against his chest and then ask him to stop.

But what he loves almost more is when your cheeky nature comes out. When you say something cheeky to him because he wanted to tease you with something. And that shows him that you can't be as innocent as you seem.

He can't deny it, he finds your innocent nature hot and it almost magically attracts him. He is almost as magically attracted to your physical appearance. When you scurry around the house doing your work and he secretly watches you, which he doesn't even notice at first. How your light dress sometimes reveals a little more of your thighs when you reach for something and bend forward a little. How your hair falls in your face or sticks to your skin wet with sweat when you scrub the floor. Most of all, he would love to be responsible for your hair sticking sweatily to your skin. He has to stifle a grin.

When he sees you sitting there, he realises that he doesn't really know anything about you. He watches you lightly biting your lower lip while reading an article in the magazine. He loves this sight.

"Y/n?"

You look up and give him a curious look.

"Why did you sleep on the industrial area?"

You hesitate at first. You are uncomfortable talking about it and actually you were quite happy that you did not have to talk about it until now.

"Mhmm... I couldn't stay with my mother any more... because she was "busy". And then I had to look for something new."

"And then you go to Manchester?"

"Yeah? This is where the train stopped."

He tilts his head a little, "So it was pure coincidence that we met?"

You nod and smile a little.

"Then I guess I should start going to church."

You laugh a little, "What? Why?"

"Well to thank God you ended up here in Manchester," he grins at you.

You blush slightly again, "Stop fooling around, Tom..."

He looks at you again questioningly, "Was your mother ill? So... because you were running the household there and eventually left..."

You look at him, you're afraid to talk about it.

As he continues, "Because... my mother was sick... She died when I was little. I felt a closeness to her that I couldn't build up with anyone else afterwards. When she was gone... there was an emptiness inside me..."

Tom looks down at his hands, at the cigarette lying between his fingers.

You look at him and see the pain in his face that you know only too well. You would like to take him in your arms now.

"My mother is not ill..." he lifts his head and looks into your face "but my father was."

Your eyes offer each other comfort.

"He was always there for me... and when he got sick, it wasn't long before he died. My world came crashing down. My mother was still there, but we didn't have the best relationship. She tried to earn money through different ways... but when she started seeing men..." You suddenly stop, you've never talked openly about this with anyone before and you just look at Tom, startled.

He looks you straight in the eye and you see that he somehow seems to understand your pain.

"... She spent "time" with men?" you hear him say softly.

You just nod and breathe a little harder.

Suddenly you see anger in his face. You feel the fear inside you that he might not like you any more.

"Has anyone ever touched you?", his hand suddenly grips the packet of cigarettes lying on the table, as if he needs to hold something to keep his hand busy.

But you shake your head, "No, Tom. She wanted... me to make money with her... but then I left..."

"... and ended up in Manchester?"

You nod.

He smiles slightly and you hear him sigh as he suddenly gets up from his chair and sits down in the seat next to you. He takes your hand in his and lets his thumb wander over your soft skin. You blush slightly, "Y/n, nothing will ever happen to you... I won't let anyone lay a hand on you, okay?"

Now you have to smile, "Tom... Why?"

He grins slightly, "I don't know... you're so... gentle and I can't let anything happen to you. I couldn't bear it..."

He looks into your eyes as he gently continues to caress your hand. You smile and bite your lip slightly as you feel the warmth spread through your core.

When suddenly a "Heey, it's me!" sounds from the hallway.

Tom pulls his hand back and stands up. You turn your attention back to the magazine in front of you.

"Lois! Ey! Do you always have to be so loud?" and he slowly walks up the stairs.

As Lois enters the kitchen, you smile at each other.

"Shall we cook?" she asks you.

"Yes with pleasure! I'm starving"

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Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @chainsawsangel @hoshi-miharu-blog @khaothick @yentroucnagol @daydreamy-me @depressedperson88 @iwontshutuptilltheyaddgeckoemoji @greenowlfactif @aemond-targaryenx @bcon24

#tom bennett #tom bennett x you #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #tom bennett smut #tom bennett fluff #world on fire #lois bennett #ewan mitchell #aemond #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #hotd #osferth #tom bennett x reader #baby monk #wof oc

[floralcavern]

the best relationship tropes

these are not subjective, only factual

•The one who hates absolutely everyone x That one ray of sunshine that they love with all their heart

•Has been hurt x Wanting to give them a better life (bonus points if they’re willing to go after the person who hurt their beloved)

•Two touch starved people who found each other

•0 self confidence x Over inflated ego willing to shower their love with affection and compliments

•Can barely form concise sentences x the one who understands them completely

•Goofy little flirt x the flustered hopeless romantic

#Relationship tropes #tropes #fanfiction #komi x tadano #my happy marriage #bakugo x kirishima #Hanako x Yashiro #Thoughtout WoF

[rynnelarion]

Character who will be featured in some stories and artworks. She is heroic and passionate adventurer. Her appearance and personality quite inspired by Cynder in Spyro. And no, she is not Avalanche seen in the books and they're not related in any way, only belonging to one tribe and living in one time.

#scalie #dragonkin #artist on tumblr #fanart #wings of fire #wingsoffire #wof #wof art #wof oc #skywing #mountain dragon #red dragon #golden eyes #avalanche #fantasy world #fan art #artwork #art #fanfiction #feral #feral dragon #western dragon #dragon oc

[aemondsbabe]

A Promise is a Promise

summary: promises & phone sex || tom's trying his best to make it home to you by christmas, but a snowstorm derails his plans

pairing: tom bennett x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, phone sex, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, breast/nipple play, very slight angst but happy ending, probably not historically accurate bite me, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.3k

a/n: happy day eleven of 12 days of smuff and happy christmas eve to everyone who celebrates!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as a part 2 to Homecoming or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @rxyl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Your breath fogs up the window as you look outside one last time, sighing heavily as you watch puffy snowflakes rain down from the sky, scattering through the pale yellow shafts of light from the street lamps. You peer up and down the quiet street, frowning at the sight of all the twinkling lights and festive candles that decorated so many of the townhouses, feeling decidedly un-cheery this year. 

Deciding that it wasn’t worth it to torture yourself further, you pad up the stairs to your bedroom, trying to ignore the soft glow from the Christmas tree in the front room. Your footsteps sound much louder than normal in the quiet house since your parents were out for the evening, attending some holiday party at a friend's house, one that you were in much too foul of a mood to even consider attending. 

You’ve hardly had the chance to change your clothes before the phone in your room starts ringing loudly, making you jump. Sitting on your bed, you roll your eyes as you reach for it, expecting it to be your parents or some friend, calling half drunk from a party no doubt. 

“Hello?” You sigh, pressing the phone to your ear as you stare disdainfully out the window, watching more and more of the traitorous snow fall from the dark sky. 

“Well, try not to sound too excited.” A familiar voice chuckles, instantly making you perk up.

“Tom?!” Your eyes widen as you press the phone harder against your ear, “Where are you? Are you okay? I thought you said you’d be home this afternoon!”

You can hear him laugh on the other end of the line at your rushed questions. “Relax, love, I’m fine,” he sighs, you can hear springs squeak softly in the background, like he’d sat down on a bed, “The train’s just got delayed, ice on the rails or some fucking nonsense, and with the damn snowstorm, well…” He sighs heavily.

“Delayed for how long?” You ask, crestfallen. 

“Dunno, the man at the station said maybe a day, maybe two,” you can practically hear his frustrated sneer, “What with it being Christmas eve, everything’s just a damn wreck, apparently.”

“Oh…” You try not to sound too heartbroken, not wanting him to feel worse, “Well, did you find somewhere to stay in the meantime? I hate the idea of you sitting at the station.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “Some shoddy little inn. The train had to stop at some farming town in the middle of God knows where, but a bed’s a bed, I suppose.” You can hear two thuds in the background, no doubt him tossing his boots off somewhere carelessly. 

“I’m glad you’re somewhere safe, Tommy,” you smile sadly, idly fidgeting with the bottom of your night shirt, well, really his nightshirt, “I wish you were with me, though.” You whisper, trying to ignore the sad little squeeze your heart gave. 

“Wish I was too, love.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, happy to simply listen to each other breathe after so many months apart. You really are trying not to let it get to you too much, but he only got so many days of leave from the RN and once he got shipped back out… you dare not think about it too deeply. 

There’s some rustling on the other end of the line and you furrow your brows as you listen, hoping the storm isn’t interfering with the phone lines too. 

“Tom?”

“‘M here,” he reassures you, springs creaking again as he settles back on the hotel bed, “Was just taking off my shirt.” He cooed, making you roll your eyes as you picture his playful smirk, your cheeks flushing as you imagined that cheeky little head bop that followed most of his lewd comments. 

“Now there’s a sight I’d like to see.” You hum, reclining back against the many pillows on your bed with a small smirk.

“Bet you’d be falling all over yourself for it,” he laughs, propping up a knee, “It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long without it.”

“Without what?”

“My cock.” He answers, voice confident and cocky. 

“Tommy!” You squeak, giggling despite yourself, which makes him chuckle on the other end, “And here I was hoping months away would turn you into a romantic!”

“Fat chance, love.” He laughs heartily, smiling genuinely for the first time in months. 

Again, a comfortable silence washes over the two of you, each of you clinging to the phone like it was truly a lifeline, feeling closer than you have in months although you’re God knows how many kilometers apart. 

He sighs again, though this one makes you smile. It’s a familiar sigh, one he only does before he says something he knows will get a rise out of you.

“What’re you wearing?” You can hear his smirk, you can practically feel it on you as he speaks, his voice already low and raspy. 

You can’t help the tittering little giggle you let out, biting your lip as your cheeks flush further. “Erm, just your button down, actually,” you say, shy all of a sudden as you squirm atop your covers, “The one you wore in secondary some days… oh, and knickers.”

“And knickers,” he murmurs, quiet for a moment before continuing, “My girl in my shirt n’ I’m not there to see it. A real shame.”

“Yeah…” you whisper, fidgeting with the small buttons lining the front. 

“D’you have my shirt buttoned, love?”

“Yes?”

“You think you could unbutton it for me?”

The way he asks for it has your heart racing, excitement building steadily within you as you rub your thighs together, already seeking something to lessen the tension within you. Almost automatically, your hands reach for the buttons as you cradle the phone on your shoulder, holding it in place with your cheek. 

“Yes, Tommy.”

“That’s a good girl, love.” He praises, chuckling lowly as a small, delicate whimper just barely makes it through the phone lines. 

You scramble, all but ripping the shirt in two until finally the fabric falls away. You’re already breathing heavier, chest heaving enough to have the shirt slip off your chest instantly; your nipples harden quickly in the cool air of your bedroom, the small radiator only doing so much to heat the space. 

“It’s unbuttoned.” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut as you desperately try to envision him doing the same. 

“God, I wish I was there,” he sighs and your ears perk up when you hear a soft tinkling in the background, cheeks heating up at the thought of him slowly taking off his belt, “I miss those perfect fucking tits, lovely girl. Got off thinking about them every night.”

“Yeah?” You ask breathily, your fingers skimming softly over your stomach, coming to rest in the valley between your breasts. 

“Mhm,” he murmurs, already breathing hotly into the phone, “Pinch them for me, pretty girl, yeah? Like I would.”

You gasp and quickly do as he requests, not being able to hold off any longer yourself. You whimper into the receiver as you tweak your nipples, your eyes roll back in your head at the thrill that shoots down your spine and settles right between your legs. 

“Fuck, good girl.” He praises again, sounding like he’s speaking through clenched teeth.

“What’re you wearing?” You ask breathily, lightly tugging at your stiff nipples still as you rub your thighs together, your center already aching, “What’re you doing?” 

“‘M rubbing my cock through my boxers,” he sighs heavily, “S’all I’ve got on.”

The thought makes you whimper again, imagining him cupping his already twitching length through the thin fabric of his underwear. Your mouth waters as you picture a wet patch near the tip, his cock leaking at the thought of you. 

“Tommy,” you sigh as your back arches into your own touch, “Can I?” 

Your meek question makes him chuckle. “Can you do what, love? You’ll need to be specific.”

You whine this time, biting your lip as your cheeks flush. “C-Can I…” you start, still feeling so impossibly shy around him sometimes, “Can I touch myself?”

“Thought you were already touching your tits?”

“Tommy!”

“C’mon, pretty,” he laughs, licking his lips as he imagines how cute you must look, cheeks all blushed with embarrassment, “Y’know what I wanna hear.”

“Can I touch my cunt?” You murmur, voice high-pitched and breathy.

“Fuck,” he breathes, head lolling back against his pillow, “Yeah, y’can, love, lemme hear you.”

Mindlessly, your hand drifts down. You don’t even bother to take off your panties, too impatient to go to the trouble as you shove your hand inside. A moan is punched out of you at the first touch, your core already throbbing as you glide your fingers through your slick folds. Tom groans along with you as your fingers finally begin swirling around your clit, your thighs spreading further. 

“What, shit,” you sigh, a shudder rippling up your spine, “What’re you doing now?”

“Got my cock out,” he rasps, his voice catching, “Thinking about you while I fuck my hand, God, I wish it was your tight cunt, pretty girl.”

You whine again, back arching once more as your fingers skim over your clit before dipping down to gather more slick from your dripping entrance. You all but see stars when you rub yourself again, core clenching around nothing. 

“Wish you were here…” You murmur, breath catching as you move your hand a little quicker. 

“Yeah?” He asks in a low voice, “What would you want me to do?”

“Fuck me,” you whine, wiggling your hips impatiently, like he was just at the end of the bed teasing you instead of lost somewhere in the countryside, “Want you to fuck me, Tommy.”

He groans, louder than he probably should in a small inn. Your face flushes when you hear him spit, imaging his cock glistening as he uses it to stroke himself. 

“Christ, I miss that pretty cunt,” he mutters, breath catching, probably speeding up in time with you, “Get a finger in there, love, fuck yourself like I would.”

Obediently, you do as he says, rutting against your own hand as you unceremoniously push two fingers into yourself, marveling at how tightly your walls already clench around them. 

“Fuck, Tommy!” You squeak, clit tingling every time your palm smacks against it as you fuck youself. 

“God, that’s it,” he groans, “Keep going, fuck, ‘m not gonna last.” He warns, knowing it’s been too long since he’d last had any privacy. 

“‘M not going to either,” you assure him, shaking your head to your empty room as if he could see you, “Feels too good, oh!” You gasp, your whole body tensing up as you crook your fingers up, expertly locating that sensitive spot within you. 

The two of you pleasure yourselves together for another few moments, heavy breaths and moans passing between the phones. Finally, Tom groans lowly again and swears through gritted teeth. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he pants, the slick sound of his hand streaking over his cock in the background nearly makes you unravel, “Cum with me, pretty girl, please.”

The whiny way he says please is your undoing and you finally break, calling out his name breathily as you arch against your sheets. Slick sounds fill your bedroom as you peak, breathless at the way your core clenches rhythmically over your fingers. 

Tom isn’t far behind you, his rough groans only adding to your pleasure. You whimper when he hisses out your name as he finishes, envisioning the way he paints his lower stomach with spend, cock twitching against his palm. 

You breathe heavily for a moment as you both come down before you dissolve into giggles, your sour mood from earlier almost completely gone. 

“Fucked you dumb n’ I’m not even there,” Tom gloats, sighing as he wipes away his cum with his boxers, too tired to get up and clean himself off properly, “You’re gonna make me blush, love.” 

“Tommy!” You groan playfully, admonishing him through a giggle, “You’re horrible.”

“You love it.” He laughs tiredly, yawning quietly. 

“Tired?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, the bed squeaking again as he makes himself comfortable, “Sorry love, s’been a long day.”

“I would imagine so,” you smile sadly still, twirling the phone cord around a finger, “I’ll let you sleep.”

“I’ll get to you tomorrow,” he promises, his voice heavy with sleep, “I swear, told you I’d be back for Christmas.”

“Tommy…” You sigh, glancing out the window to see snow still pouring from the sky.

“I mean it,” he murmurs tiredly, “A promise is a promise.”

You wake with a start, jerking up in bed as you look around blearily, unsure of what woke you. Your eyes narrow as you glance at the clock on your bedside table, too early still for even your alarm to be going off. 

You jump as you hear a knock from downstairs, someone pounding at the door. Rolling your eyes, you slip on a robe before making your way downstairs. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You sigh, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you reach for the doorknob, tugging it open with a frown. 

“Wha–” You stop in your tracks, gasping loudly.

“Y’gonna let me in or are you gonna leave me out here to freeze my bollocks off?” Tom asks with a grin, laughing when you practically leap into his arms and pull him into a suffocating hug. 

“Tommy!” You gasp, clinging to him, “How did you, when did you?” You stutter, a million questions running through your mind. Finally, you pull back just enough to look at him, nearly crying as you at last look into his familiar blue eyes, “How?” You breathe.

“A very nice famer with a truck,” he laughs, holding you tightly to him, “Told ya I’d get home to you by Christmas.” 

Not being able to hold off anymore, you press your lips against his, feeling warm despite the cold.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux @grsveeth0m

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x you #tom bennett smut #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #world on fire #world on fire fanfiction #world on fire fanfic #world on fire smut #wof #wof fanfiction #wof fanfic #wof smut #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #my writing #12 days of smuff

[quotidianish]

Meaningless wurtle Drabble

Turtle wasn’t prideful by any means, he hardly thought about things like “loyalty to his tribe,” despite being a prince, or maybe because he was one of thirty. Winter made it clear he was never afforded that comfort of mind. “You don’t act like a prince.” Winter had crudely stated. They were stationed just east of Sanctuary, doing chores for the local doctor.

Neither of us are, not now, thought Turtle, knees deep in mud, struggling to reach for a hanging bucket in the middle of a well. Winter wasn’t exactly looking any more dignified, wrestling carrots out of the ground a few meters away.

“You told me that before.” He made a grab for the bucket and pulled it towards himself. Turtle knew better than to think Winter was being hostile at that point, otherwise he would’ve been shouting. This is just how he talks.

Winter yanked at a patch of leaves, blinking as dirt spewed in his face.

The doctor, a herbalist, offered them a spare room to stay in for the night. The rug on the floor barely had space for two, so they lay awkwardly, haphazardly piling on top of eachother. Crickets outside drowned out Turtle’s thoughts. “Hey,” he whispered, after thoughtless deliberation. “Are you asleep yet?”

“Maybe I would be if you weren’t so warm.”

Turtle expected him to use a different adjective, one he could be sorry for. On a summer's day it felt good having a cold blanket draped groggily over him. He sighed and furrowed his head into one of the rug’s creases, Winter’s glittering tail softly lashing back and forth in front of him, eventually lulled to sleep by its slow clattering.

#I CANNOT write fanfiction. I don’t go there (words of a bad writer) #they the type of homies to say as little as possible to eachother if they can #mutual understanding #wings of fire #it was originally gonna be longer but I cut this part out of the larger story #WoF #art #WoF fanart #wings of fire fanart #artwork #wof turtle #wof winter #wurtle #I insist #Quotidianish

[myfandomprompts]

𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟏)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…I’m a real hero.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing will happen to them,” he whispered. “If they are half as smart as you are, nothing will get them. Trust me.”

His breath was tickling the side of your face as he talked. You giggled softly, now finding pathetic the way you had reacted due to your lack of sleep. “Thank you, Tom. You’re sweet when you want to,” you whispered, feeling your eyelids slowly flutter from the fatigue.

“I’m always sweet. You’re just not around often enough to witness it.”

“Then I am clearly missing out...”

Then it went dark, and you fell asleep in Tom’s arms. “Not as much as I am, Y/N.”

Tom watched you as your breathing became even, hand itching to prevent a strand of your hair from falling over your pretty face. Had it been anyone else, he would have woken you up and made you go to bed to be more comfortable, but as the minutes passed, he gradually abandoned the idea of moving even an inch as you felt amazingly warm over him. He gently took your book away from your lap before putting the cover over your form and leaned back against the couch, finding a comfortable position of his own.

Your peaceful expression suited you, he thought.

Sunlight filtered through the windows directly into your eyes, and you blinked yourself awake, the smell of smoke and sandalwood tickling your nose. It was nice, but as you realised from where, or from who it came from. Your face was resting against Tom, his chest rising up and down softly as he breathed and you straightened at once, the motion making him shift and blink in turn beneath you. You stayed still while you forced your memories from the previous night to come back. Tom lazily stretched his arm over him before dozing into sleep again. Oh no no no.

“Réveille-toi espèce de-” you scolded, hitting him on the shoulder to urge him awake. “Why didn’t you wake me up! We would both have been better off in our own beds!”

“Hey, easy!” he protested with a giggle, now fully awake and trying to take a hold of your wrists to stop you from punching him. “You’re the one that fell asleep on me, in my bed, and I’m not the one complaining here, love!”

His amused expression annoyed you more than it should have and you cursed in frustration, realising that you had to get ready for work very soon. You were glad that neither Douglas or Lois had woken up early to see you like that.

“If I’m late for school, it’s on you,” you warned, getting rid of the covers he had apparently put over you during the night and pointing an accusing finger at him, standing up to walk upstairs.

“What, I don’t even get a cup of tea as a reward for being your pillow? I clearly deserve it,” he taunted, taking his jumper off and looking at you expectantly.

You sighed, “Fine. But stop guilt trapping me. You still should have woken me up, I’m sure your muscles are killing you right now. No, I hope they are."

“My muscles are fine, thank you. And I would never have dared to wake you up, you seemed so relaxed in my arms, I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

His grin was enticing but you escaped it by fleeing into the kitchen and processing to make you and him some tea, taking care in adding milk, a thing you had learned British people liked, and you brought one of the hot cups back to him. He was now comfortably laying under the covers, ready to fall asleep again, but he straightened up to take the beverage from your hands, satisfied with the way your nose flared in frustration. But even though you seemed vexed, it did not reflect your thoughts in the least

“Thank you. For listening to me last night.”

Your words made him arch his brow in surprise but his sweet smile quickly came back as he sipped his drink happily. “Anything, Y/N.”

You gave him a half a grateful smile in response before turning on your heels, heading upstairs to ready yourself for the day. Tom smiled at the way the covers were now infused with your scent, and he was glad to fall back to sleep in it.

It was your turn to buy groceries, and you had taken your time in the market today, strolling through products before heading back to the Bennett’s.

Nearing the back door, you were put face to face with a furious looking Tom, storming out of the kitchen and almost bumping into you as you set down your bike against the wall of the small alley. He barely apologised and disappeared into the street. You stayed stunned by the encounter for a moment before cautiously making your entrance in the house where Douglas was sitting at the table, a dismayed expression on his face while Lois was ironing.

“What was that?” you asked, looking between the two. They looked at each other before Douglas spoke.

“Tom enrolled in the Navy.”

You dropped your bags of groceries on the floor. “The Navy? But… what about civil work?” you asked, stupefied.

“Yeah… He is not doing that any more. He changed his mind.”

You glanced at Lois who gave you a sorry look. No wonder Tom looked so upset and Douglas so sullen. “I’ll… find him.”

It had not been very difficult to find Tom. You had strolled around the neighbourhood before deciding to head to the local pub, almost certain that you would find him there. And it did not fail.

As you entered, immediately noticing his back turned to you, elbows on the counter at the front. You made your way to him across the crowd and settled yourself beside him, looking at his now almost empty glass of beer.

“Can I please have the same thing but smaller?” you called out to the barman, making Tom acknowledge your presence for the first time. 

He examined you briefly before reporting his gaze on his glass. “Did Lois send you?”

You shook your head. “No, I came on my own. You should not be alone.”

He nodded, taking his glass of beer and emptying it in one gulp.

“So… the Navy, uh?” you tried.

He licked his lips and proceeded to play with the edge of his now empty glass, jaw clenching a bit. “What, are you gonna tell me I made the wrong choice too? Didn’t know you were this much into pacifism. With your folks and all.”

“No, it’s not like that Tom, it’s just a little difficult for your father at the moment. I don’t want you to leave, but it does not mean that I don’t understand your choices.”

His eyes shot up at you as you were handed your drink, not noticing how Tom didn’t draw his gaze away from you as you ingested the cold liquid, warming your throat in the process. When you put down your glass, Tom was still looking at you, a triumphant grin on his face.

“My my, are you saying that you’ll miss me or do my ears deceive me tonight?”

You blushed, opening your mouth to try to think of a witty response. You found none. “Just… Be serious for a minute and listen to what I have to say,” you managed, and he groaned in frustration, ordering another drink as you continued. “Your father loves you, that is why he is so upset. He just… doesn’t want his boy to go away. He lived it himself, he knows how it is, he is scared for you.”

He only made an annoyed sound as he took a sip of beer again, a defiant expression on his face. You try not to question why your eyes had been briefly drawn to his Adam's apple as he drank.

“If you leave things as they are with your father, you’ll regret it. I know you will,” you kept on, willing to not let his pride take the better of him. “When do you leave?”

“In a week,” he replied. “First to Liverpool for training and then off to wherever they send me.”

You bit your lips. You had not known Tom for very long, but you knew that it was unfair that he had to go. You were terrified that war would take away all that liveliness and light he carried around. You liked that about him, even though you didn’t show it.

“At least you’ll get to travel,” you shrugged jokingly, but your heart was not in it. Tom however, seemed to find his humour back.

“That’s true. Maybe to France, who knows? Always dreamed to see if they are all like you there, or if you're some miraculous exception. I hope they are not as serious as you, though, I would be very disappointed.”

You let out a fake scandalised sound. “Me, serio-! That’s not very nice of you to say, Mr. Bennett! I have my moments.”

“What, is the demoiselle jealous?” he smiled, leaning closer, and you could smell the same scent you had woken to several mornings ago in the living room, but this time mixed with the smell of beer.

“No, you’re just being rude,” you replied, forgetting to move away from his ever-closing face. “And your charming smile won’t be able to get you out of my wrath if you keep depreciating me like that.”

He arched a brow, and you knew you had made a mistake. “Charming smile? Well, that’s a first. But do go on, what else do you find charming about me?”

You scoffed, unable to stop the blush from creeping onto your cheeks and chose to hide behind your drink as you took a long sip.

“C’mon, I’ll even let you say it in French, if that’s easier for you,” he pleaded, eyes glittering in mischief as he leaned closer to your ear. “I like when you speak French.”

“Tu peux toujours courir, mon beau,” you said, shaking your head with a smile. You can forget about it, handsome.

“Mhh… What does that mean?”

“It means that you, sir, have drank too fast, and that you should stop there,” you replied, ignoring the way he was now looking at your lips as they moved. “I won’t say anything, but please remember what I said. Don’t avoid your father, don’t make that mistake. Oh, and don’t come home too late," you said, dropping a few pounds on the counter.

“You’re leaving me already? It was just starting to get interesting.”

You could not repress a smile as you internally agreed. “I’m hungry, and I am cooking tonight. Maybe if you behave, I will leave some for you.”

And you turned your heels, letting him there with a lost expression as you made your way to the door, satisfied and your body a little bit too warm. Mere metres from the exit, however, you collided with someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir, I wasn’t paying attention,” you apologised, even though it was him that had not been paying any attention to his surroundings as he was talking to his group of friends.

The man turned with an annoyed expression on his face at first, but it quickly disappeared to be replaced by a cheeky smile at your sight, “No to worry miss, no harm done,” he reassured you, touching your arm in a playful manner. “Where are you from? Don’t recognise your accent.”

“Oh, I’m from France. I… didn’t know it was that obvious,” you confess, uneasy at his sudden interest and secretly wishing that you were already on your way home.

“Nah, I just have an ear for it. Staying long?”

“I work here actually. School.”

“Wonderful, it means that we will cross paths again, won’t we? I believe in fate you see, not a coincidence we met like this hon’,” he said, leaning in closer and making you take a few steps back.

You knew it had been no coincidence when his arm collided with yours harshly a minute ago, just plain inattention on his part. Your desire to escape him grew wider by the minute. “Uh, I guess we’ll see about that,” you said, trying to give him a genuine smile. “Now I’m sorry but I must go. Maybe next time!”

The tall man nodded, and you now noticed how gruff he looked. “Alrigh’, to next time then, dove.”

You shyly smiled at him before hastily opening the door and exit the pub, the cold attacking your already shivering skin.

“I work here actually. School.”

“Wonderful, it means that we will cross paths again, won’t we? I believe in fate you see, not a coincidence we met like this hon.”

Tom’s gaze had not left you for a second as he watched you leave, seeing you struggle to reach the entrance of the pub across the crowded place, and he did not miss the way you collided with loud guy either.

The man was a regular named Larry, but Tom usually called him ‘the loud guy’ as he never seemed to ever shut up. The fact was, that lad had already challenged Tom's nerves a couple of times, and his legs were now making their way to the two of you on their own. He had only heard the end of your conversation before he could get close and as you left, reassuring him, Tom was about to make his way back to the counter when he heard Larry’s boisterous voice.

“Pretty this one, and a teacher at that. She could teach me whatever she wants any time, eh?” he said to his red-haired friend next to him. “I’ll bet you she touched me on purpose, the naughty thing. She must get laid pretty easily.”

He then proceeded to have the fattest laugh Tom had ever heard, his friend on the other side only giving him an unimpressed glance, and Tom felt his blood boil.

“You want to repeat that, mate?” he defiantly said, staring straight at Larry who froze and turned at his voice.

“Repeat what? Don’t you know it’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations?”

“Well you’re not really whispering there, are ya? You wouldn’t be able to have a private conversation even if you wanted to, with your ugly mouth of yours. Or do you lack the brains to understand that?”

You were right. Maybe he had drank too fast, and maybe although he was as tall as Larry, the fact that he was twice his size did not bode well for him. But he was very crossed right now, and it wasn’t the first time he had got himself into a situation like this one. He could take it.

“Watch it lad, wouldn’t want to damage your pretty face, don’t think your mum would be happy about it, yeah? Now piss off.”

“Big words for someone who talks about women like that. Did your mum forget to teach you some manners?”

Larry’s expression turned dark. “So that’s about the French lass, huh? Frustrated she took interest in a man rather than a boy like you? You wanted a taste, am I right? Well too bad. Let the big men play and piss off.”

Tom didn’t know why this particular sentence had infuriated him that much but it did, and the next moment his fist had landed on Larry’s face, making him reel backward and growl as his nose started to bleed. Rage took him and he punched Tom back in the stomach, making him huff and gasp for air as people started to yell around them, rushing to stop the fight.

“Stop this! Or take it outside!” yelled the barman as someone held Tom back, preventing him from punching loud guy again.

“Gladly,” sneered Tom, but Larry’s friend had another opinion.

“It’s not worth it. C’mon Larry move. I said move,” he insisted, pushing his nose-bleeding mate out of the pub. Tom had tried to follow them, still enraged but the hands retaining him did not let him go until the two men had disappeared into the night.

“You’re alright lad?” asked a man to his right.

“I’m fine,” he growled, shaking the pain from his hand and feeling his torso aflame by the blow he had received.

He didn’t know why he had reacted like that, but as he returned to the counter, he had definitely sobered up.

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

Part 2

#tom bennett #wof #world on fire #tom bennet imagine #tom bennett x oc #tom bennett fanfiction #oneshot #ewan mitchell #world on fire 1x02 #wof gif #mygif #angst #short story #fluff #smut #aemond #Tom bennett X reader #gone with regret

[thehunterstrial]

map of the Allwing kingdom!! Detailed version + one more focused on the different sections of the continent. I'm also working on a detailed map of the middle kingdom, and maybe a floor plan of the castle if I'm feeling EXTRA silly. Maps are very fun to make lol

(also theres supposed to be more beaches around the continent i just kinda forgor)

#the hunters trial #wof #wof fanfiction #wings of fire #art #posted by ander

[chloedoesart]

Back to my roots...

I began my internet art journey nearly a decade ago as part of the Wings of Fire fandom. Somehow, my footprint in that fandom still exists despite leaving it many years ago.

I received a sweet message from a parent of a young teen this year asking if their son could use some of my old Wings of Fire artwork for his podcast cover. They reached out to me to help teach him about copyright and getting permission from artists to use their work! I was so touched and impressed that I offered to draw a custom cover for his podcast, as long that he promised he would never stop following his interests and exploring new ways of expressing himself!

It was fun to redraw one of my favourite characters from the series, Qibli, after so many years.

Podcast version under the cut!

#finished art #wof #wings of fire #wof qibli #qibli #qibli wof #qibli wings of fire #fun fact #one time I had a ship between my OC and this character #and it got so popular that for a brief time it was preferred by many over the actual canonical ship for Qibli #there were fanfictions FROM OTHER PEOPLE written about my OC ship #there were dedicated fan accounts #there were ask blogs #it was kind of insane #looking back on it I still can't explain why it happened #I was so young and naive #it baffles me to this day #it is a legacy I must carry to my grave