Free, thanks for doing this! This is Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)
It ended up not taking as long as I thought it would to decide...
Instead of going with my usual predictability of asking for a Hunter fic, I will ask for an only slightly less predictable Howzer fic!
"Side lying" was so dang tempting...but it didn't work with the other thing I wanted included, so instead I would like:
"Watching you masturbate (vibrator included if possible)" with a healthy dose of "breast play"...perhaps a he's helping up there while she's busy down there kind of thing. An "It's Shake 'n' Bake, and I helped!" situation (I don't mean to include that in the fic, it's just something I always say.)
But only if that works. If not, feel free to change it how it would be best for you!
Thanks again but no pressure!! If it doesn't work or if you get too many requests, that's ok!
Much love,
Carol
I'M BACK BITCHES! 😂 Not you, Carol, you're a saint. WHO WANTS SOME SMUT AT 11AM ON A THURSDAY? 🤣
Anywayyyy, I was in a *mood* last night, so here we are. I apologize in advance cause I'm rusty AF but I thought you'd be the most deserving (aka forgiving) recipient of my first request in ages, LOL. So... fifteen months later... here you go! 😜 And I didn’t proofread it cause I’m feelin wild and free. 🤣
Howzer x F Reader - 1.8k words
Content: breast play, a whiff of brat taming, a whiff of dom!Howzer, fingering, vibrator, did I mention breast play? ;)
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He dragged his tongue up the side of your neck, and what might otherwise tickle or repel you now sent a wave of electricity through you, straight between your legs. You arched your back, nestling your butt closer against him where you both lay naked and spooning, and shifted against his erection in no subtle way. An enticingly breathy sigh escaped your lips as you felt its length pressing against you, but it faded into protest as he drew away, tucking himself out of reach of your nefarious ass. He grinned, one hand propping up his head while the other glided along your side toward a breast. Teasing fingers barely grazed back and forth along the bottom of its curve before continuing up your shoulder and around your neck, ever so gently.
“Not yet,” he rumbled against the side of your face as he brushed a thumb along your jaw.
“Not fair,” you groaned.
“Not my fault,” he returned with the flicker of a smile at the corner of his lips where they pressed against your cheek, your temple, your neck, your collarbone…
* * *
You’d known he was coming for you from the moment he walked in the door that night. A mission debrief had kept him late, and the two of you had spent the better part of the day exchanging increasingly spicy comms, the last of which was sent while you idly stirred the creamy soup you’d been keeping warm on the stove for him. You knew the potential when the spark of novelty met the depth and familiarity of old love in bodies entwined, and you found yourself shifting in your silky pajamas, a craving ache in your core. The dim evening light made his eyes look darker, and his lips had brushed against yours a second longer than usual in greeting, softer and heavier.
“What’s this?” he smirked, giving your camisole a playful tug after cleaning up and changing into a thin t-shirt and the soft sweatpants he knew you liked.
“Proper cooking attire.”
“Hmmph.” He didn’t argue, rather fitted his form along your back, hands slowly reaching around your hips.
“Hungry?” you asked, turning off the burner and leaning into his touch.
“Yes.” He pulled you tight against his chest, one hand sliding straight up the middle of your front to hold you close, fingers splayed across your collarbone.
The soup was the last thing on his mind as you squirmed around to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying a hand in the hair on the back of his head before pulling him down and kissing him hard. He almost whimpered.
Almost.
Instead his hands were on you immediately – sliding up a thigh, cupping your ass with a firm grip, resting between your shoulders. You writhed against him and he pressed into you, as though the two of you could become one against the kitchen counter. Kisses grew messy. Cheeks reddened. Lips swelled. A trail of kisses down the side of your neck stoked the fire ever further.
“Bed. Now,” you demanded, pushing him back. He chuckled, normally the one to obediently follow your lead, but he wasn’t feeling that tonight. Instead he came right back, grabbing your thigh and lifting it around him as he kissed you again. His tongue flickered against your own, and you arched your back to grind against him as he dragged his teeth gently across your lower lip.
“You don’t always get to call the shots, princess,” he murmured, releasing your mouth to kiss your jaw and nip your earlobe. “It’s about time someone stood up to you, I think.”
“Oh really?” you laughed, equally aroused and indignant. Any further retort died on your lips as he pressed his erection against your thinly-clothed sex; the thick fabric of his sweatpants increasing the friction. He was in a mood, and it was insanely hot.
That was ten minutes ago.
Ten minutes of making out. Being lifted onto the counter and ravaged within an inch of your sanity. Kissing and sucking and nipping and caressing. Your top was gone, shorts hanging on by a thread as you writhed against his front. You wanted to beg. Gods, you wanted to beg. But you were not one to beg. So you’d get your way…
Or so you thought.
He’d lifted you against him, soldier muscles taut as he relished your weight in his arms, then carried you to your bedroom. He’d tucked you under a soft sheet, pulled your shorts to your toes where you kicked them off, and laid against your backside, naked and radiating heat. And now he was teasing you, drawing every last miserable second out into an eternity as his deft fingers glided along your skin. You didn’t know what he was waiting for, and he seemed to be quite enjoying your flustered impatience.
You shifted your ass against him again, grinding against his cock as you grabbed one of his hands in your own, guiding it toward your chest. But he pulled it back, scolding you in your ear with a sinful whisper before grabbing both your wrists in one hand and drawing them over your head, rolling you onto your back as he pinned them there. You felt exposed and electrified, nipples pebbling in the cool night air as he gazed down at you.
“Stubborn, aren’t you?”
“Goddamnit,” you breathed, insanely turned on but yes, stubborn as hell.
He moved down a bit, keeping your hands pinned as he trailed kisses down your neck and chest until they got to a breast, where he paused with a warm, open-mouthed exhale across it. You bit back a whine, settling instead to give him your best “fuck me” look when he glanced up at you, mouth hovering over a nipple. You’d never seen such a fiendish grin on his face in response, and he lowered his lips slowly. You arched your back again, aching for contact, and he flicked his tongue across the tip, sending a shock to your core. Your little gasp provoked him further, and he shifted his thighs around his cock, leaking and swollen between them. He licked a circle, once, twice, three times with more pressure each time, then without warning took as much of your breast into his mouth as he could, sucking and running his tongue along it.
You were too lost in the sensation to notice his hand gliding up the inside of your thigh.
That was five minutes ago.
Five minutes of his masterful fingers enticing your pussy. Feather-light tracing grew into firmer strokes. A finger inside drew out a full moan from you, and a sinisterly slow rub around your clit had you squirming. He’d released your wrists to prop himself up further, dragging his tongue across a breast before sucking hard enough to make your toes curl. The stimulation from above and below was echoing through your core as he sank two fingers in, groaning against your sternum as he felt your slick walls around him. It took all he had to keep from thrusting his cock into you right there, but the helpless whine it elicited from you set him on his course. Fingers in and out. Slowly. A thumb against the clit. Fueling the fire. Cool air across a nipple before careful teeth and a warm tongue. You were coming completely undone.
“You want something?” he asked, and you were suddenly aware that your stubbornness had flown out the window at the first finger.
“Please,” you whispered, aching in the best way. Gods, there was never such desperate need in your voice. And to know he’d been the one to do it to you…
He began to rub your pussy, broad strokes alternating with devastatingly accurate circles of your clit, and you could feel the waves building from deep inside. Your breathy praise encouraged his every movement, and he pressed his face against your neck, hot breath tickling your collarbone as his deft fingers wrote a symphony of sensation between your legs. But then he slowed.
“Oh hell no–” you began, smothered indignation melting into laughter as he covered your mouth with a hand. He rolled away for a moment, then came back brandishing your vibrator.
“So impatient,” he chided, replacing his hand with a kiss to your mouth as he passed the vibrator to you. He didn’t have to ask; you knew what he wanted. And you loved it.
“Gonna last like 13 seconds…” you murmured, smiling against his lips at the faint sound of a chuckle in his chest. He didn’t reply, but kissed you more deeply as you switched it on and dipped it between your legs, biting your lip immediately at the crash of sensation where you’d already been primed to the slightest touch. He sat up a bit, watching you move it from front to back, teasing your pussy as you squirmed, and thought he would explode. The sight of your furrowed brows, heaving chest, and glistening sex was driving him mad, and he closed his eyes for a moment, grasping one breast and kneading it firmly.
You pulled the vibrator away for a moment, absolutely spinning as nerves went off across your body like fireworks, His scent, his heat, his mouth, his hand… The desperate little sounds that he made to match your own as you pressed it against yourself again… He’d worked you into a near frenzy, and you clutched his arm, further aroused by his muscles as his hand ravaged one breast, then the other – cupping, pinching, caressing, squeezing… As he felt your response growing, he lowered his mouth once again, dragging his tongue across a nipple before taking it in his mouth, knowing it would drive you over the edge, and when your body tensed as moans turned into mewls, he buried his face, licking and sucking you through your climax. White hot electricity rocked through your body as he continued, slowing only with the movements of your hand as your unhindered gasps and whines sang his praises and slowly quieted.
When you closed your legs to the side with a huge exhale, basking drunkenly in the orgasmic glow, he grinned, pulling back to tuck himself neatly along your back again. A million pert comments ran through his mind, but none were strong enough to break through his thick haze of contentment. You shuddered, one residual wave of bliss, and started to roll to face him, murmuring something about his turn as you made a feeble grasp for his cock. He laughed, tucking you back neatly where you’d been, and kissed your shoulder blade.
“You just enjoy that,” he offered.
“I’m recharging for round two,” you said in mocking sternness.
“If you say so,” he conceded, a knowing grin softening his handsome face.
And the dynamics were back in play.
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