#ratlochet

warnings: some gentle, loving (unprotected !!!!) sex ft hickeys and fingering

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“I don’t believe for a second that you don’t want anything for your birthday, love.”

Tom’s eyeing you sceptically, watching from against the headboard as you walk around the bedroom, clad in only a white fluffy towel. It’s your birthday next week, and your boyfriend has become frustrated with you repeatedly dodging the question of a present. 

“Tom,” you sigh as you look at him, the irritation fading from your eyes the moment you see his cute, bright face. He’s in only a pair of boxers, his torso bare and defined in the evening light. “I don’t want anything. Nothing materialistic, anyway.”

“Ah! So there is something.” Tom starts moving, sliding down the mattress until he’s sitting at the edge. He holds out his hands, and you roll your eyes as you move away from the dresser to pay him attention. Your boyfriend eagerly tangles together your hands, looking up at you with his brown eyes all wide and warm. “Tell me? Please?” He even flutters his lashes, laying on the charm thick.

“I dunno.” You glance away, biting at your lip. “It’s gonna take some convincing for me to tell you.”

Tom drops one of your hands before reaching up, fingers skimming teasingly over the towel. You’re fresh from the shower, your body still a little wet, and you raise your eyebrows as Tom tugs at the front of it and the heavy material goes flying to the floor, pooling at your feet.

“Whoops,” he murmurs, smiling cheekily up at you. “Guess I'll have to coax it out of you.” 

“You little bastard,” you exclaim, grinning. “You’re such a-”

Tom pulls you down to the bed, pushing you onto the mattress and slipping up over you, caging you in with a bicep either side of your head. “I’m a what, eh?” He responds, a cheeky smirk on his face. He kisses you then, deeply, as his hands roam over your naked skin, taking in the curves of your breasts, your hips, your lower stomach. His touch is warm and familiar, and the sensation of his fingers against your body makes you whimper. “I think I’m a very dedicated boyfriend, Y/N,” he murmurs. “I think I care about you a lot, and I want to know what you want for your birthday.” Tom knocks your thighs apart, and you moan as he drags two slender fingers through your folds. He teases your clit for a moment before slipping his digits into your wet heat, smirking up at you. “And I think I’m going to get an answer.”

You buck down your hips, your eyes squeezing shut as Tom’s fingers curl up against that deep spot within you, stimulating it as you whimper.

“Tom,” you moan, a heat gradually spreading through you. You moan as his thumb nudges your clit, doubling your enjoyment. “Tom, shit, please fuck me.” You reach down blindly, eyes shut, but hands familiar with his body. As your fingers brush over his straining cock, you hear your boyfriend grunt. “C’mon, baby. I want you.”

Tom slips his fingers from inside you, but before you can get too caught up in the disappointing loss, he’s pushing off his boxers and repositioning above you. He kisses you firmly, his lips gentle and warm, and you part your legs as he drags his flushed tip through your slit. You whimper into his mouth as he eases himself into you, your pussy pulsing as you take him, your walls stretching to accommodate his girth. 

“Fuck, darling,” he murmurs, kissing just behind your ear. “Feels like fuckin’ paradise.”

Tom’s teasing with it - thrusting just quickly enough to bring you pleasure, but not railing you into the mattress like you desire. You pout as you grip his back, your fingers feeling over his flexing muscles as you try to hurry him along.

“Can you go a bit faster, please,” you ask, clenching your walls in the hopes it’ll spur him along. 

Tom looks up, smiling gently before kissing your cheek. “I could,” he says, “But only if you tell me what you want.”

You sigh, but you have a smile on your face. Seeing this, Tom quirks an eyebrow curiously, causing you to hum.

“Fine,” you say. You have to take a moment to gather yourself, a little distracted by how fucking deep Tom’s nudged himself, but you manage to get out a breathless, “I want you to mark me up.”

“Hm?” 

“Give me hickeys,” you clarify, voice breathless, “But put them on my neck.” A sly smirk takes hold of your lips. “I want everyone to see them. I want everyone to know that I’m yours.”

A strangled groan travels up Tom’s throat, and he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck. His thrusts pick up, and you moan, basking in it.

“That’s so hot,” he mutters, tilting his head to lightly kiss your neck. “You want some nice, big hickeys, hm?” 

“Yes. Yes, yes, Tom.”

“Mmm, may as well get started now, eh? I can always give you more…”

You try to reply affirmatively, but the breath is knocked from your lungs as you feel Tom sucking over your neck, his lips harsh as they draw the blood to the surface of your skin. He’s given you hickeys before, but never somewhere as blatant and obvious as the side of your neck. It thrills you to know you’ll be wearing his mark for days to come, and you find yourself gripping at him harder, crying out as the ache makes your arousal heighten.

“So good,” you whine. Tom separates from your skin and kisses the mark softly, before drawing his tongue over it. The sensation makes you grip his back harder, and he brings up his pace again, cock hitting your spot, over and over. “Shit, ‘m gonna cum.”

Tom brings a hand between your legs, and he finds your clit easily, nudging it with the pads of his warm fingertips until you’re shaking, your high washing over you in deep, consuming waves. His hair brushes up against your neck, and after a few moments of your persistent moans, Tom climaxes too, groaning as his member pulses inside you. You move together, drawing out your highs as one cohesive unit until you’re both spent, and he collapses on top of you.

“You’re bloody perfect,” Tom murmurs, voice tired. He looks up from where he’s been resting on your chest, eyes round with warmth. “Can’t believe all you want for your birthday are hickeys.”

You chuckle, fingers wrapping up in his hair. “All I want is you,” you clarify, smiling when he makes a small awwing noise. “I love you.”

Tom leans up to kiss you, his lips soft against yours.