Fantasy and Putts - t.h. series [18+]

Not Just a Fantasy [18+]

prompt : "Tell me your fantasy, I'll tell you mine."

words : 5k

warnings : 'and they were roommates' + fwb trope, morning smut: fingering, light bondage, intercourse, cum play

b's note : this is a repost, not a new fic, but i moved it here so it will be part of the whole series. thank you for your support, I hope you enjoy what's coming up next!

~ ⛳️ ~

It was the taste that woke you up. Salty. Sharp. Nearly metallic. A combination of sour and force of habit.

"Hey, you okay?" a sugary voice mutters in your ear. A kiss follows.

"Yeah," you whisper back, not wanting to awaken Tom any further.

It's early, you can tell that much from the still orange beam of sunlight that filters through his window. The lack of blinds has always triggered you since the first night you slept over, but it's still his room. Just because you rent a third of his flat, it doesn't mean you're in a position to make that kind of demand yet.

"Was it a bad dream?" he asks, face buried in the nape of your neck.

"No," you gulp, "not really." You don't want to reveal too much about it because it was... a good dream. Hot, too. About Tom. And although you've been hooking up for a few months now, you don't want him to give your mind that much credit. After all, you're used to these dreams about your hot, pretty roommate, the one who's charmed you with his boyish smile since day five or six, even though by day twenty you realized he liked to leave a trace of used socks wherever he went. You call them sock graveyards, and every time you bring it up, he has the gall to laugh at your annoyed self.

"You were saying my name..."

"I was?" you try to play the fool, settling fully on your side so your back is turned to him.

"Yeah, you were," he continues to whisper, alternating words with his trademark little kisses around your ear. He knows you're particularly sensitive there, has known since the very first day when he tried to lick you there and you almost passed out from the persistence of his tongue.

"And I think you were moaning," he insists. You can feel a smirk growing on his face, but he's quick to hide it under another kiss. This time in the small grove on your temple.

"I just don't know if it was scary moaning, or, y'know," he huffs in a silent laugh. Then he presses his front to your whole backside and mumbles, "the other kind."

You shudder in the silence that follows.

"Why don't you tell me, baby?"

Baby. That word means nothing to him, but it can make your knees buck weakly even when you're lying down like this.

"Do you really want to know?" You decide to play his game and press your bottom into him. It seems to hit more bone than flesh, but in the same second, you both shift to opposite sides like balanced plates of the same scale and what you feel next is just as hard as his hipbone. But it's his cock instead.

"I really, really want to know," Tom whispers with a smile obvious on his lips. The air coming out of his nose is almost too hot, leaving you shaking and wanting more. He presses against you and ruts his middle into yours, making you yearn for the naked heat of his skin.

"So why don't you tell me?"

He pauses to breathe over your ear again and you can't help the moan that escapes your throat. It's tiny and repressed, trapped on the inside of your teeth as you clench them together. But you know he caught up to it.