#lois bennett

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I wish you'd write a fic where Tom Bennett calls out his sister for naming her baby after his beloved canary

lmao a tidbit for you, Erin, my love...

"Alright, so where is she then? My niece?" Tom asks, rolling the filterless cigarettes between two fingers, lips twitching in agitation, eager to change the subject.

"Vera's over there," Lois nods towards the corner.

His eyebrows raise in surprise. Tom had left his canary in the care of his dad when he'd returned to Manchester, following the battle of the River Plate. He had expected her to have suffered the same fate as Douglas after their house was bombed. The idea that she's survived makes him grin; a tiny, yellow beacon of light in so much darkness.

However, as he turns to look, seeing only a cot with a sleeping baby in it, his grin fades, replaced a look of confusion as his brow furrows. He turns back to Lois, eyes narrowed.

"That's a baby..."

"Yeah, she is," Lois replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "she's not even a year old yet."

Tom scoffs, chucking his cigarette down on the table, shifting in his seat to face his sister fully. "No, what I mean is, Vera was my canary. Tell me you haven't called your baby the same bloody thing?!"

A grin spreads across Lois's face, her eyes twinkling as she places a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. "Oh god, I didn't even realise..."

He tuts, lips pursing in irritation. "Course you didn't. Well, no bets on what that thing's gonna lay. I'm going out for a fag."

Rising from his seat, he plucks the unlit cigarette from the table top, and heads towards the door. He pauses as Lois calls out to him.

"Don't you want to hold her?"

"Yeah, I will once you've changed its nappy."

[happilyhertale]

A spark of hope – Tom Bennett x female!reader

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Misogyny

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

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

Other stories of mine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello my beautiful," he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hands off," he says with a smile.

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

You blush slightly but laugh lightly anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‚Not him again...‘ you think.

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

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

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

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

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

"Until next time," he says softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's nothing," he says softly.

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

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

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

"What is it?" you ask

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

You laugh lightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He clears his throat slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Tag list:

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

[evita-shelby]

My first Peaky Blinders fic, Between the Shadow and the Soul ,is officially 3 years old!!!

So to celebrate my 3 years in this fandom I am throwing a party.

Everyone is welcome to attend and encouraged to bring their OCs

(yes i am doing this again because yours truly somehow mistook 2020 and 2021)

You can send a request (gifs, songs and pictures welcome) for a blurb/drabble or a moodboard with the only requirement for it to contain one or all of the following:

🕯- prompt or title summarized in 3 words

🕯- something dark and/or supernatural with a motif of 3

🕯- take any of my Peaky Blinders OCs (limit is 3) for spin

🕯- 3 pictures 1 word (where you either send me 3 pictures and i guess the word or i post 3 pictures, and you guess the word)

*add 🎯to make it a poll and see what wins*

🕯- lets play fuck, marry, kill (or alternatives to it)or two truths and a lie *add 🎯to make it a poll and see what wins

🕯- What Would Eva Do? WWED (Ask Eva a question)

🕯- Caption This!: where a pic or gif is sent and i caption it (can also be a caption sent in via ask and if three or more people decide to caption it we make it a poll and see which one wins)

Same rules apply for any gifts you guys wish to give for the occasion and for tagging purposes the tag is 3va's party and will not be peaky exclusive because Eva couldn't be limited to just one show and has her whole evacore universe

Diane's masterlist: dianecore

Thank you for 3 years of fun and friendship y'all 🖤

Masterlist

[uhtredswordofuhtred]

🥺💗

[slytherincursebreaker]

that was on purpose when she said that

saw the trailer and I might have shouted that's my husband when seeing him...got a little crazy.

[bcon24]

All I Could Think About Was You (Tom Bennett x Reader)

A/N: Ahhhh ok this is the first time I’ve ever written a fic, like ever. Could well be shit, yep. But like I spent hours on this and I honestly don’t even care anymore. Not at all a writer so appreciate any and all feedback - tear me apart! If you like it, please leave a like or note - anything is appreciated! Hope everyone is having a great day! ❤️

3191 words (I GOT CARRIED AWAY)

Set late 1939, pre-Dunkirk

Tom and Y/N had grown up together, they had lived on the same street and attended the same school after all. While Tom and Lois were boisterous, excitable children, Y/N was more reserved. Not exactly quiet, just not confident, with an ever-obvious nervous disposition.

Y/N, her mother and sister moved to Manchester the summer after her tenth birthday. She would occasionally see the brother and sister playing in the street, while she sat on the steps bored and fiddling with pebbles. The 2 would play tag, and when Tom would play tricks and give his older sister cheek, Lois would always give it right back. Y/N always admired that about Lois.

Y/N spent her first summer in Manchester mostly in solitude. Her mother worked as a secretary at the local bank, a role she was incredibly proud of, and her sister, Jenny, was 4 years her senior and quickly made a tonnage of friends. Her hot, summer mornings consisted of reading, staring at the ceiling, playing marbles then staring at the ceiling again, but her afternoons were reserved for sitting on her steps – or if she was feeling ambitious, kicking a ball – and observing the fun-loving Bennett siblings. Every day she built up her courage to eventually approach them, and join in. However, it was not until the following autumn that she interacted with either of them.

It was the first day of school and Y/N was standing in the corner of the large courtyard. She had begged her mother not to leave her, her mother simply responded with a good-natured – albeit slightly impatient – smile and a kiss on the cheek before telling her daughter, “All will be well, my darling.”

Y/N’s mother wrenched herself from the tight grip of her daughter and left. Jenny had immediately found her friends, leaving Y/N standing awkwardly alone, fading into the background. Soon after, the Bennett siblings arrived, and a small wave of nervous excitement spread through Y/N. What happened next, she had most definitely not anticipated.

Lois Bennett, with her round freckled face and red curls carefully walked up to her, almost like she was worried about scaring Y/N away.

“Hiya! I’m Lois! This is my brother, Tom. You live down the road from us, don’t ya?” Lois asked. She was smiling at Y/N. Young Tom stood beside his older sister, looking intrigued at the girl in front of him. He had a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, a smirk that Y/N would become incredibly familiar with.

Nervously, Y/N nodded, her brown bob also shaking with the movement.

“Do you wanna play with us?”

Y/N grinned and nodded once again, her shy exterior slowly crumbling.

-

As the years passed, Y/N grew to be extremely close with the Bennett’s. Lois treated her as a younger sister, and Tom became her best friend. The Bennett’s father, Douglas, was also very fond of the girl, believing the calming effect she had on the troublesome and hyperactive Tom to be a godsend.

The relationship between Y/N and Tom was certainly intriguing. Each of their contrasting personalities complimented the other, Y/N was calculated where Tom was impulsive, and shy where Tom was out-going. He was her protector, and she was always standing by his side. Y/N’s persona around Tom and his family changed also. She was open and fun, always making the others laugh. As they grew into young adults, their relationship only strengthened. They shared an incredibly strong bond, one that confused everyone around them. As they matured it was clear that what was held between them was not only friendship, but out of fear of losing the other neither of them ever ventured to explore their feelings.

Lois and Y/N also remained close, while Y/N loved her sister, she felt that sometimes Lois understood her better.

Tom enjoyed when she read to him, lying tip-to-tail on his bed. she looked so adorable when she focused, only looking up to grab the cigarette out of his outstretched hands and take a puff - terrible habit she had picked up from him. He got to stare shamelessly at her, taking her in. Her beautiful eyes focusing on the page, slightly furrowed eyebrows and her curled hair falling in front of her eyes. All he wanted to do was brush the hair away. He couldn’t stop himself, sitting up and gently moving the silky lock behind her ears. She stopped reading, frozen with shock, looking up. His hand, however, did not move. It stayed hovering beside her face, fingers gently touching her jawline. Their eye contact was intense, seemingly conveying everything they felt for each other, love, longing, lust and passion – red-hot passion. His hand fell to one of hers, gripping it softly. He was acting entirely on impulse, lifting her soft hand to his lips and kissing it gingerly. Not once did they break eye contact. As they were both simultaneously leaning in, the door banged open. They jumped apart as if they had been poked with a red-hot iron. Lois was standing there, completely unaware of the moment she had just interrupted, strolling in and going about her business. Neither of them could look at each other, understanding the weight of what had almost happened.

-

The sun was setting when Y/N opened the Bennett’s door, she had long since stopped knocking. She walked through the doorway into the kitchen, where Douglas and Tom were sat. Douglas was listening to the radio, something about rising tensions in mainland Europe, while Tom was nursing a cigarette.

“Hiya,” She greeted. Tom’s blue eyes roved over her figure which made her blush and look away. She was clad in a pretty red dress and her best dancing shoes. He rose an eyebrow, lips pursed – he looked gorgeous.

“What are you all dolled up for?” He asked curiously, his Manchester accent lacing his words.

At that Lois came down the stairs, also dressed up. She answered her brothers’ question, “We are going dancing,” giving him a light glare.

Y/N nodded, gazing at Tom’s still questioning stare. His face softened when she smiled at him, and he gave her a small but genuine smile in return.

Lois gripped Y/N’s arm and dragged her up the stairs, Tom staring almost longingly after her. Once sitting comfortably on Tom’s bed while Lois made finishing touches to her look, Y/N sighed, feeling the soft quilt between her fingers.

“You know its really obvious, you and Tom’s feelings for each other,”

Y/N choked on her breath, causing an amused smirk to grace Lois’ features. An angry red blush rose on her face.

Stumbling slightly, she replied, “I- I don’t know what you mean,”

Lois rolled her eyes, “Sure you don’t,”

Y/N would be lying if she said Lois’ words didn’t excite her. She knew she cared for Tom more than a friend should, if she really thought about it, she might say she was in love with him. However, she was entirely convinced the feelings were one sided – of course, she was wrong. Little did she know that Tom felt the exact same way. Even though he was too proud to label it as it was – love – he knew his feelings for Y/N were anything but platonic. Ironically, the one-time Tom did not say what he truly thought, was when it could be considered most important. Eventually forgetting about the slightly distressing conversation with Lois, Y/N focused on shoving her feelings into a mental box and pushing said box to the very back of her conscience.

There were more important things to focus on, war had broken out. When Tom had left for the Navy, Y/N was distraught, but managed to conceal it until when she was alone in her bed at night. She wept at the possibility of never seeing him again, even though she knew that what he was doing was necessary – even if they both hated it. It all happened so swiftly, and they barely had time to say goodbye, words unsaid weighing heavily on both their shoulders. The only person who could see how much it affected the pair was Lois, but her words fell on deaf ears, both too stubborn and scared to do anything about their pain.

It was all made worse when Lois also left, although not to the front lines. Y/N was so happy for Lois, but that did not stop the feelings of loneliness from creeping in. It seemed that Lois anticipated this though, and before she left asked Y/N,

“While I’m gone, will you check in on Dad for me? I just worry about him you know? He’ll be on his own a- “

Y/N hastily nodded and silenced Lois, “Of course, don’t you worry. Just go live your life.”

Y/N fell into a routine, after work she would go to the Bennett’s and sit with Douglas for a while, sharing a pot of tea. Once or twice a week she would cook dinner for him, and often went to fetch his groceries for him. It was one such evening, Y/N was chopping up vegetables while Douglas sat listening to the radio. Y/N was humming to herself, different to her normal listening intently to the radio, in case of news about Tom’s ship. Suddenly, she heard Douglas stand and turn the volume of the small radio up, his breathing accelerating. He was muttering incoherently to himself. Y/N placed down her knife and stepped toward him.

“Douglas are you ok?” she asked with increasing alarm. Douglas turned; he looked as if he had been punched in the gut.

“I- It’s the Exeter,” he whispered back. The colour drained from Y/N’s face as she began to listen to the radio. As she processed the words, she felt her surroundings fade away. The Exeter hit? Tom… Is he alive? Her thoughts were going a mile a minute, inhibiting any movement she might’ve intended. But in that moment, she could not think about herself. Douglas was falling apart. Y/N knew about his past, how the Great War left him a changed man. To see his own son go away to another war? The pain would be unbearable. Y/N began to comfort him, turning off the radio and making him sit down. He began to sob, and Y/N sat with him, just tryingto help him. Later, she had no idea how she managed to help Douglas while being on the brink of breaking down herself, it was like a reflex.

After she left later in the night, after making sure Douglas was completely settled, she finally let it sink in. Y/N began sobbing uncontrollably, reaching out for something – anything – to support herself with. She found no such thing, crumbling to the hardwood floor, Jenny running in to check on her, reaching to comfort her. Jenny held Y/N while she sobbed, understanding the situation through what Y/N had told her, and gently rocking her like a baby. Y/N couldn’t fathom it, what if he was gone and she never told him how she felt? What if she was so scared of losing him but it happened anyway? As she lay on her floor, in Jenny’s arms – numb - all she could think about was Tom, his face, his smell. She couldn’t imagine life without him.

-

When the sirens went off, Tom raced to his position. He didn’t even have to think about it, just got on with it. But when he heard the deafening boom, when silence enveloped the gun room, he sobered instantly. When the explosion occurred, scattering him and his crewmates across the smoking room, only one thing was on his mind. Y/N. It was like all their shared memories played as a film reel for him. Joking with each other while they walked down the street, hands occasionally tangling together. He thought about that day they had almost kissed, and he felt regret deep in his bones. He should’ve kissed her. As feeling slowly came back to his body, he vowed that if he survived, he would tell her how he felt.

-

It was just another day for Y/N, not good, not bad. She walked down the street towards the Bennett’s, holding a bag of groceries in her hand, kicking a pebble. Her mind wandered to Tom, they still hadn’t heard anything, and it was eating her alive. Resolute in not bursting into tears on the street, she put it out of her mind. Reaching the door, she reached to unlock it, slightly shocked to find it open – Douglas was not usually home so early - and strolled in cautiously.

“Douglas? The front door was un- “

What she saw stunned her, her feet suddenly blocks of concrete that were unwilling to move. Sitting at the table with Douglas, sipping a cup of tea, looking ethereal as ever, was Tom. He was still wearing his service uniform, rucksack on the floor, he looked incredibly put together. She didn’t know if she was going to laugh or cry. Probably both.

“Tom?” She asked, not sure if what was happening was real or just a dream. Lord knows she’d had similar ones recently.

“Hey Love,” He replied casually, his signature smirk splashed across his face. Y/N could barely get her words out.

“But- you… the Exeter- hit,” If she wasn’t so shocked she would laugh at herself, barely able to string two words together. Somehow, he understood her meaning, sensing her distress, and standing up.

“It was, but it didn’t sink. I’m ok.” He replied, raising his arms to gesture to himself, “See?”

Y/N let out a sob and tackled him into a hug, Tom’s arms instantly wrapping around her. As she took her time to feel his body against her own, he was home, he nuzzled his nose into her hair and inhaled. God, he had missed her. She pulled back, grasping onto his shoulders, his chest, his neck, just to feel him. She was a sobbing mess. He grabbed her hands in his own, kissing them before placing them on his chest. Y/N let out a whimper at his actions. His hands then gripped her cheeks, and he rested his forehead against hers, while tears still ran down her face.

“I’m here, I’m home. Everything’s ok,” He whispered to her while rubbing her cheeks, her tears slowing.

Y/N suddenly remembered they weren’t alone, looking to see Douglas standing there with a smile on his face and slightly glazed eyes. Her face went red as she stared at her feet, head resting against Tom’s chest. Tom smiled slightly at her embarrassment. Douglas suggested the pair go for a walk, while he unpacked the food. Too emotional to protest, Y/N swiftly followed Tom out the door, holding his arm as if she let go, he would disappear. Before she knew it, they were strolling through a nearby park, both waiting for the other to speak. In an ironic reversal of the roles, Y/N stopped and spoke up, still gripping Tom’s hand.

“I was so worried, Tom. I thought- “ she couldn’t even finish her sentence, but he knew what she meant. He looked down, the implications of her words too much for him to handle. He reverted to all he knew, teasing.

“Hey, you would be fine without me. After all, I’m just a bloody nuisance,” he tried to be nonchalant, but she could see through it. He was scared.

“Don’t say that. I missed you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She said with a degree of urgency.

“I missed you too,” Tom said, not entirely able to respond her admittance of how much he meant to her. But then he realised, he had to tell her how he felt. It wasn’t fair on either of them.

“When the- “ her head snapped up, eyes meeting his. He took a deep breath, “When the Exeter was hit, when I was lying there not sure what happened, I probably should’ve been thinking about Dad and Lois. Or- or even praying. But all I could think about was- was- “

He was struggling to get the words out, he took a moment to collect himself before returning to her questioning gaze. Now or never.

“All I could think about was you. You, and how I had never told you the truth. How- how I really feel about you,” Y/N’s mouth was wide open and her eyes were the size of saucers, she was gripping his hands and he took that as an invitation to continue.

“I love you, Y/N. More than a friend. I have for ages. I needed to tell you, I don’t want to think about if I had died and hadn’t told you,”

Tom felt vulnerable, more than he ever had, he was hanging on her next words. Y/N was shocked, how could she have never known? She was so happy, she wanted to jump for joy, but she couldn’t move, could barely breathe. Tom looked devastated at her silence.

“Say something, please. Please, Y/N- “

She couldn’t take it, she silenced him by pressing her lips to his – probably a bit too harshly. They both stumbled back before he steadied them, Tom’s eyes widening before they closed, and he settled into the kiss. His hands went around her waist, lifting her up slightly and pressing her body to his. Y/N’s were holding onto his shoulders for dear life. The kiss was magical, somehow able to convey a decade’s worth of feelings in one short moment. Short moment.

She broke away urgently and almost shouted, “I love you too! I love you; I love you,”

They were both smiling like fools, “You love me?” Tom asked, completely unbelieving of his luck.

“Yes! Of course I do!”

He laughed and spun the both of them around as she squealed. He slowly placed her back down, staring into her eyes before kissing her again. This time it was different, less urgent. Their lips moved together slowly, one of Tom’s hands tangled in her hair and his other held her jaw, giving her nowhere to go – not like she wanted to go anywhere else. Y/N’s were wrapped firmly around his neck, and she let out a quiet moan at the intimacy of it all which only spurred Tom on. His tongue swiped her bottom lip, and she eagerly opened her mouth for him, their tongues moving sensually against each other’s.

They begrudgingly pulled away for air and rested their foreheads against each other, inhaling deeply. She pulled back slightly to look at him, his eyes still opening. His blonde hair needed a haircut, but his ocean blue eyes and incredibly sharp jawline made him as gorgeous as ever.

He was looking at her with much the same intensity, telling her, “You’re beautiful,”

Y/N beamed up at him and pecked his lips in thanks before moving away.

“Come on, it’s getting dark,” she stated.

Tom nodded but stayed still for a few moments longer, thinking about how he got so lucky. He kissed her hand intertwined with his before walking with her, feeling utterly content.

[edgrsgifs]

Julia Brown in World on Fire 1.01 (2019)

[servants-hall]

World on Fire S2 Trailer!

[kaelatargaryen]

y’all….

[murgaloo]

Harry x Lois: Foolish one, stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come; you will learn the hard way instead of just walking out

Harry x Kasia: On a crowded street in 1944 and you were headed off to fight in the war, you still would've been mine and we would have been timeless

Lois x Vernon: All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life, got a feeling your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life

Albert x Webster: I can see you in your suit and your necktie, passed me a note saying "Meet me tonight", then we kissed & you know I won't ever tell

Speak Now (Taylor's Version) vault tracks as World on Fire (2019) couples

[aemondismyromanempire]

it's a bittersweet thing when a series is cancelled. sure, i am sad because we'll never see ewan as tom bennett again. and of course, i am happy we got to see him play this sassy guy in the first place because he was so much fun to watch. yes, i am sad because julia brown will never be lois again. but yes, i am also happy that i got to discover her and several other talented actors through this series.

so, overall, my mood is: i want to cry, i want to smile, i want to rewatch WoF, i want to take a nap.

[violaobanion]

me, after watching world on fire s02e01

[happilyhertale]

hello! I was hoping to send in a tom bennett x reader request that I have in mind.

basically, reader is sent off by her father to have an arranged marriage with an older, rich man. she's young and still has a whole life ahead of her however she decides not to fight against her father and does what pleases him. reader feels miserable, her husband barely acknowledges her and when he does, he says nasty things.

one night, she stumbles upon a man, tom bennett. two end up beginning a secret love affair of sorts. please? 💜

Life anchor – Tom Bennett x female!reader, Part 1

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Warnings: Misogyny, light violence

Author’s note: Hey you (:

A little Tom Bennett story requested by the wonderful @chainsawsangel 💕

Sorry it took me so long to write this! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.9k

Part 2, Part 3

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"No discussion. You will marry him"

You just looked at your father in disbelief. A burning spread through your eyes, brought on by the tears that blurred your vision.

Yet you refused to give in.

"You can't be serious... He is almost your age, father!" you tried to say in a firm voice, but your voice threatened to fail.

A sigh left your father, "It's our chance..."

"... your father. It's your chance," you had interrupted him.

"It's our chance for me to cement my place in politics. To earn more money. He can guarantee us that. You just have to agree to marry him," your father said to you.

Single tears now ran over the rim of your eyes. You looked to the side and tried to suppress a sob. A heaviness spread through your chest that would not let you go for a long time.

"Father... please don't do this to me..." you whispered without looking at him.

But at first there was no reply from your father and you had to make sure that he had not left the room. But when you looked to him, you saw that his gaze was fixed on you.

"We have no choice," he said to you quietly.

From then on you knew that you had no choice - you had to marry William.

In those moments, your suffering began to grow. In the prime of your early twenties, you found yourself married to a man who had outlived nearly fifty years of his life. Since that union, a heavy unease has settled in your chest that refuses to go away.

William has a face that is not far from attractive; some would even dare to call it attractive. If only his inner character didn't cast a shadow over his outer appearance. While his physical stature is tall and his mane of hair exudes a lush darkness, it is the elegance of his clothing that always graces him, coupled with the incessant curve of a smile on his lips.

On the surface, he treats you with an almost warm politeness. And yet, in this realm beyond the surface, he remains uninterested in the totality of your being, unmoved by your passions or aspirations that truly define you as a person. In his perception, you are nothing more than a decorative facade, a charming companion on his arm. The words between the two of you are sparse, relegated to a realm of brevity.

When confronted with problems or troubling circumstances in his immediate environment, he brandishes his wealth as the ultimate remedy. His conviction is based on the notion that the amount of financial resources directly correlates to a person's intrinsic worth. He conveys this conviction by subliminally making his interlocutors feel inferior compared to him. You find disgust in this pretense and detest the artificial facades he puts on.

The house in which you live is surrounded by a huge green space. It is a really pretty property, but still you feel lost there. It is oversized, its rooms reflect emptiness. And those who share most of your time there are your employees. The fact that William is rarely present doesn't bother you - solitude is a cherished companion.

In the midst of this house there is a room set aside just for your comfort. When the burden of your heart becomes too heavy, you retreat there to rest. It is a refuge to bear the burden in your chest.

William's return often takes place under the gaze of the moon, the late hours being his time of arrival. But at times, a communal dinner graces the quiet nights. Occasionally, when you are already in bed together, he becomes a nocturnal partner. His body language varies - sometimes averted, sometimes seeking closeness. Almost like a dance between your husband's ignorance and his desire to be intimate with you.

There is an undeniable lack of zeal in this scenario. You endure it with unwavering stoicism and wait patiently for him to complete his act. As soon as sleep catches up with him and he has his back turned to you again, you rise and quietly retreat to the bathroom. Hidden in a cabinet is a small vial of diluted acetic acid. Using an pipette, you wash his semen from your body with it. The weight on your chest, which never leaves you, is almost unbearable at such moments.

One evening, William opens up to you that you are going to visit an adjacent naval ship. It is of great importance - well, not to you.

The naval ship is docked in your city's harbor, almost like a symbol of England's maritime power and importance. Politicians of the highest importance have been invited to join an expedition aboard this ship, meet its dedicated crew, and make connections.

William has agreed to participate in this momentous event, and by his side you will find yourself in his presence as an escort. On a quiet afternoon, you set out on your way. First you will visit the berth of the ship and later you will move on to a nearby banquet hall, for a small celebration with the crew and the politicians.

In the midst of this journey, a gentle rain falls from the sky, decorating the window panes of the carriage in glistening rivulets. The reverberations of William's words ring dully in your ears, and your nods of time punctuate the conversation as you are drawn to the fleeting ballet of raindrops on the glass.

As the car approaches its destination, the port's towering cranes wave like sentinels of industry, drawing your gaze to the ships resting on the calm water. Your gaze falls on the naval vessel. "H.M.S. Keith" you read as the car passes the ship. A strange name for a ship, you think to yourself. The car stops, a sign that you have reached your destination and it is time to put on a smile.

Even before your feet hit solid ground, William stands resolutely in the midst of his comrades-in-arms, deeply engrossed in a speech.

A smile curls your lips as you make your way to his side. Your smile is reflected on the lips of the other wives, who also stand beside their husbands.

In the midst of the gathering, your gaze falls upon the captain of the ship, a prominent figure emerging from the sanctuary of the vessel. He embodies the essence of a leader. His portly figure is crowned by a cap, behind which hides hair made silver by time and experience.

He greets the ladies with a gallant gesture and gives each hand a gentle kiss. Inside, your familiar heaviness weighs on your chest, a weight that threatens to impede the rising and falling of your breath, but you wear your smile undaunted like an ornate mask.

With a fluid movement, the captain turns his attention to the gentlemen, and together they enter the waiting ship. The men walk ahead of their wives, almost like obedient dogs you trot along behind them. You are led to the upper deck and find yourself in the midst of cramped quarters. You realize that the men are doing their work in this confined space day after day, entangled in the toils of war.

Your thoughts are momentarily interrupted as you come face to face with the assembled crew. A disciplined line of sailors stands before you, and as the eyes of the sailors notice the presence of the women, a chorus of whistles sounds playfully through the air. Quickly, the captain steps in and restores decorum to his ranks. With a mixture of curiosity and fascination, you gaze at the unfamiliar faces until your gaze lingers on a pair of steely blue eyes. Unable to break the connection, you feel trapped as his gaze seems to peer into the depths of your soul.

Suddenly, a faint smile graces his lips, making your heart flutter. As if in a trance, you avert your gaze, and a blush of surprise coats your cheeks as you notice William at your side. His arm wraps around your waist. You return his gaze. There is a slight irritation in William's gaze as he notices the color of your cheek. But the blank smile replaces his irritation almost immediately.

"Come on, let's leave the smelly guys behind, we're going to the banquet hall," he whispers to you. You make an effort to agree with him with a gentle smile and a subtle nod. You turn and follow William down the path into the hall, steel-blue gazes lingering on you until you disappear completely from his view.

Entering the banquet hall, you are led to a table where influential elite are gathered. An interplay of cigar smoke and the amber swirl of whiskey dances through the air. Laughter resounds like a melody, even if some of the banter is not particularly sophisticated. The tightness in your chest almost incessantly present.

From time to time you eat a snack from your plate and occasionally take a delicate sip of wine, but the moments drag on like an eternity. The steel-blue eyes do not leave your thoughts. At some point you are so absorbed that you no longer notice much of the conversations around you.

"What do you think of that?" William asks you suddenly. You look at him a little startled, "Apologise. What did you mean?" you ask him.

"Little silly... Caught up in your thoughts again...", he chuckles lightly.

"George here just had the idea that it would be a wonderful idea to join the sailors on the ship for a day," William says to you.

"Why would that be?" it slips out.  William laughs lightly and the other men agree.

"Well, so that we can show that the elite care about these men," William answers your question.

You look at him. You have little to no desire to spend time on a ship. But you smile slightly and nod slightly.

"Excuse me," you say quietly and stand up from the table. With purposeful steps you walk towards the bar as a slight ache returns to your chest, almost overwhelming in its intensity, seeking comfort. The bartender greets you with a warm smile and your request for a martini is effortlessly fulfilled. Conversation is minimal, words an unnecessary bridge to your needs.

As the martini stands before you, embodying in its clear form the calm you wish to feel within you, you do not hesitate for long. With practised ease, you lift the glass and its contents find refuge within you in a single, deliberate movement. You pinch your eyes shut briefly as the liquid fire flows down your throat, leaving a stimulating trail in its wake.

As you awaken from this fleeting reverie, you become aware of a presence beside you. A subtle jolt of surprise runs through you, only to be quickly replaced by recognition - those steel blue eyes, captivating and familiar, are upon you again. A soft blush adorns your cheeks once more, accompanied by a barely audible clearing of the throat, a modest attempt to regain your composure in the face of this unexpected encounter.

"Hello, love...", he says in his deep voice, "... I'm Tom," he smiles at you.

You can't help but surrender to his voice. A smile spreads across your face.

His gaze bores into yours again and he too begins to smile. Only his seems to be surrounded by a lightness.

"Don't ya want to tell me your name?" he finally says.

You chuckle lightly and shake your head gently.

"Excuse me. Hello Tom, I'm y/n," you finally say.

His smile widens and exposes his slightly crooked teeth. His smile makes you feel warmth in your chest where otherwise there is only room for the usual heaviness.

"Hello y/n. And... ya like to drink alone?", he asks you without his gaze leaving you.

Your gaze goes from his smile back to his eyes, "Well... Sometimes that is the only thing that helps you," you say honestly and order another drink.

Tom watches you intently, his gaze fixed on the fine furrow in your brow and the heaviness that envelops your smile. The fact that your smile does not reach your eyes strikes him almost immediately. Clearly a weight rests on your thoughts. He chooses silence rather than words, however, and lets his attentive gaze rest on you.

As you also take your next drink almost in one go, Tom reacts gently yet firmly as you put the glass down. He grabs your hand, an unspoken invitation for you to follow him. A shock of surprise runs through you, but the alcohol in your veins transforms your reaction into an unexpected giggle.

Amidst the pulsating rhythm of the dance floor, he brings you to a standstill. Couples sway and spin around you, a sea of movement and you in the midst of it. You can't help but smile, and your joy is reflected in Tom's expression. His hand is on your hip, and his other hand tenderly intertwines his fingers with yours.

"What are you doing?" you ask quietly, but still smiling.

"Well... love... I think it's called dancing," he says cheekily as he begins to lead you across the dance floor.

Enveloped in an irrepressible lightness, your laughter blends in harmoniously. His steps, which deviate from the usual dance steps, find a unique cadence that stages a dance all its own. Amidst the elegance emanating from the neighbouring couples, your finesse may differ, but with each passing moment, his rhythm becomes a familiar melody for you.

A perpetual grin adorns Tom's face, proof of the joy that unites you in this improvised waltz you dance together. With each successive step, the distance between you decreases and the feeling of his touch makes its way through your bodies like a gentle current. The longer the dance goes on, the more its warmth becomes an embrace that you long for. The outside world no longer exists for you.

But like a curtain falling over a fleeting act, the pleasure is abruptly interrupted. Unexpectedly, William appears in front of you and interrupts the enchanting choreography.

"Y/n. What are you doing?" he asks you, without even giving Tom a glance.

"Well... I think it's called dancing," you say before you realise how cheeky your answer is. The alcohol and Tom's lightness rubbing off on you make you answer.

William looks at you, doesn't make a face. But suddenly a small smile appears on his lips, but you know that smile.

"Of course..." is all he says before he grabs your wrist and pulls you along. You cast a fleeting glance over your shoulder and see Tom looking after you, his steel-blue eyes gazing at you almost longingly. In this quick moment, you don't get a chance to say goodbye.

As your attention returns to William, you realise that his gaze is fixed firmly on you, an intensity that makes you shudder.

"You will not disrespect me like that again, is that clear?" he hisses in your ear as he pulls you closer to him.

"You can't just dance with the pack!" he adds.

You glare at him as he literally pulls you outside and comes to a stop.

"You want to spend a day on the ship with this pack, but I can't dance with this pack?" you ask him.

Your head flies to the side as you feel the blow against your cheek. A beeping sounds in your ear and you gasp slightly. Your eyes are squeezed shut and tears rise almost simultaneously, but you try to ignore the pain.

"Do you want to offer yourself as a whore because you disagree with something?" he hisses at you.

Your cheek throbs and you have trouble following William's words. You hold your cheek with your hand, hoping that the pain will subside. Slowly you turn your gaze back to William.

"I will not tolerate my wife behaving like this. And you will obey me," he almost shouts at you, emphasising every word with his raised index finger pointed at you. You say nothing, not a word passes your lips. You just nod slightly, your hand still on your cheek.

Silently, William leads you to the car, his grip tight and locked around your upper arm. He literally barks at the smoking driver that he wants a ride home immediately.

Your cheeks are on fire, the blow leaves a rosy hue, and your tears, by now running down your cheek, give your skin an almost glistening touch.

A heavy silence prevails the whole time, and you do not perceive a single word from William's lips. When you arrive at the house, you retreat to your room without many words. Seeking refuge from his presence that night.

Nestled in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, your gaze rises to the ceiling as your thoughts weave a tapestry of memories. Your mind wanders to Tom - his laughing gestures, the way his touch ignited as he led you across the dance floor. The abrupt end, heralded by William. You roll onto your side and snuggle against your pillow, its soft embrace giving you comfort. But before you can think about it further, sleep envelops you and takes hold of your consciousness.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

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

[evita-shelby]

Finally watched world on fire season 2.

Its is amazing. A shame Ewan couldn’t be more in it or mentioned more.

But i love that almost every young adult in this season seems to have this energy thanks to their trauma

[uhtredswordofuhtred]

MY MAN IS BACK!!

[cyeco13]

World on Fire S2 Live Clip

Why do think Lois is grieving? Is this a confirmation that Douglas is dead and maybe the reason why she pushes Tom back to war? 😭😭😭😭