Push and Pull
Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader
Summary:
While playing games with Viper, Emily (accidentally) plays on your attraction to her - something you had been trying to hide since you started with the BAU. The results end up being more than interesting.
Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader - Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut, Sexual Tension.
Word Count: 2,800 words
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link
THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.
Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.
Warnings: smut; this is set during Season 4, Episode 9 (52 Pickup) and there is a lot of references to the episode in this, but I think you could read this without having seen the episode; mentions of typically sexist practices - in the form of ‘pickup artistry’: the reader character replaces Jordan Todd on the team; there is an age gap between Emily and the reader - Emily is older and the reader character is younger; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mention of the reader wearing a dress and makeup; the reader has sexual fantasies about Emily - which include: pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, semi public sex, being called 'naughty girl’; most of the sex acts are in fantasies (this fic is mostly tension and build up and sexually adjacent situations rather than actual sex); masturbation (the reader masturbates); mentions of masturbation being unsatisfying or not feeling 'as good’ as having sex with the desired partner; caught masturbating - Emily walks in on the reader; Emily refers to herself as 'Mama’ (once); rough kissing, Emily gropes the reader through clothing, very light choking (from Emily toward the reader) (Emily puts her hand on the reader’s neck and applies pressure for a few seconds to get her attention), Emily calls the reader 'needy little thing’ (in this case the word 'little’ is meant to be condescending and not a description of size); undertones of degradation kink; I believe that is everything.
A/N: This was based on a request, and the original request mentioned fake dating (and I would love to do that trope with Emily), but I couldn’t stop thinking about how stunning and gorgeous Emily looks in this episode, and I thought it would be interesting to use it. Also the idea of a man basing his pickup techniques on women needing male validation when - hey, what kind of women wouldn’t want or need male validation? A woman who is obsessed with the other gorgeous woman at the table. It was such a fun scenario to write about. I definitely wanna write more Emily fics in the future.
...
At first, you really weren’t looking forward to it.
Though it seemed fun in concept - having an excuse to dress up and go out to a club while on the job - Emily assured you that it was going to be miserable.
The way Emily talked about the man - Viper. She almost made him sound worse than some of the confirmed killers you had dealt with during your short time at the BAU. She said that he was the scum of the earth, a waste of oxygen, that made her feel dirty just by giving her a weird look. She joked that she was ‘dragging you along’ because she didn’t want to suffer alone (that, and she needed backup, in case the guy truly was dangerous).
From the way she talked about it, you thought the night was going to be miserable.
You certainly didn’t expect it to be one of the best nights of your life.
Viper frequented bars and nightclubs. So of course, nightclub appropriate attire was required. You rushed to a store and grabbed the first tight dress you could find (a red one with spaghetti straps that would pair well with a pair of modest black heels you already had in your bag for the job). You didn’t expect to come back and see Emily getting changed into a clingy black dress that fit her like sin, her makeup subtle but smokey.
You had been actively suppressing your attraction to her, a gorgeous older woman, since you had joined the BAU a month ago. You told yourself that you could keep your lustful feelings under control because you would only be there temporarily, to replace their usual media liaison - who was on maternity leave. But seeing her dressed up like this, it certainly didn’t help with that suppression.
Things only got worse when you got to the club and Viper descended upon the two of you. (You quietly whispered to Emily that his name should have been Vulture and the soft laughter she let out had your insides fluttering.)
Turns out, Emily had been paying extra attention to the ‘push and pull’ technique that Reid had talked about. And even though you knew that it was just in the name of messing with the cocky man - you fell hook, line, and sinker for Emily’s combatants of this technique.
See, rather than letting him push and pull the two of you - compliment one of you and leave the other one reeling for validation, Emily complimented you herself. She never let Viper leave room for you to need that validation. Not that you would ever need it from someone like him. But she certainly threw him off with this tactic.
She supported you, focused far more of her attention on you than she did on him. The two of you never fell to the traditional ‘women in constant competition’ market that his techniques were built on. If she put far more of her focus on you and actively ignored him (or even not-so-subtly insulted him), then what could he do?
Women not vying for his attention? It was a curveball for the ages.
Clearly, he had no backup plan. He was struggling to keep up.
If he called your dress cheap, Emily said how well the fabric complimented your amazing body. If he said your mascara was clumpy and poorly done, Emily said your eyes were naturally beautiful and shined bright without makeup anyway.
The more annoyed it seemed to make him, the more she fawned over you.
And it left you staring at her all night. Captivated by her beauty, her silky voice. You barely even knew that he was there as she laughed at him, engaged in his silly games, taunted him.
By the time you left the club, you were almost high on the affection Emily had given you.
The rest seemed to go by in a blur. The real killer was caught at a different club, and the team retired back to their hotel to get some rest before returning home. As you and Emily walked back to your shared room, you were still laughing and joking about the pathetic man who somehow made his living off of scamming men more pathetic than him.
“And did - did you see the look on his face when I said ‘you probably go home alone, don’t you?’ - Like he - he couldn’t believe that I wasn’t falling for his BS,” Emily said, stuttering through her words as hardy laughter disrupted her speech.
“It’s like he’s never met a confident woman in his life.” You replied, a delicate chuckle in your voice.
It was a subtle compliment toward Emily, admiring her confidence in how well she had dealt with the scummy, overly cocky man.
“No, not quite.” Emily sighed, using the keycard to open the hotel room door.
Your insides fluttered even more when she held the door open for you. You couldn’t help but enjoy the domestic feeling behind it as you brushed past her body in order to get inside.
Of course, she wasn’t even paying attention to the dreamy, starstruck look on your face as she continued speaking.
“He’s never approached a confident woman before.” She quickly corrected, letting the door fall shut and click locked behind her. “He’s never approached a woman he thought he couldn’t con.”
“And for some reason he dared you to ‘meet him on his turf’?” You questioned, repeating the words she had told you, when ranting about the previous interaction she had with the awful man. “You, of all people?”
You had to wonder what about Emily Prentiss would come off as even slightly insecure or - what about her said that she would fall for his stupid tricks. In your opinion, it was like trying to outrun a cheetah using a tricycle.
“Yeah, I guess he was counting on me being drunk and blinded by all his guyliner.” Emily joked, tossing her bag down onto one of the twin beds.
You collapsed down onto the other bed with intense laughter. The joke itself was funny, but her delivery, her confidence, and her smile caused a spark through you that forced you to laugh off the tension before you jumped her bones. You had to be professional. You had to keep reminding yourself of that.
“I call the bathroom first.” She announced. “I really need a shower after being drowned in Drakkar Noir all night.”
You had to ignore the dryness in your throat and the heat between your thighs at the thought of her in the shower. Previously, it was something your mind could have easily glossed over, but after she spent the night fawning over you and capturing your attention completely, it was like you were a horny teenager again. Now all you could think about was her completely naked, droplets of hot water rolling across her skin, surrounded by steam.
You had to pull yourself together. You had to be professional, for fuck’s sake.
“But of course.” You told her, giving a smile and a nod. You motioned toward the bathroom, as if presenting it to her in a gentlemanly fashion. “I’ll probably just shower in the morning.”
Emily nodded in acknowledgement of this, and there was no further conversation.
This left your mind reeling, your body entirely tense and hyper aware of her every movement as she got ready. You had to busy yourself with grabbing your pajamas out of your own bag - an oversized X-Files tee shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton shorts - while she grabbed her toiletries bag and went into the bathroom.
The water turned on and you tried your hardest not to think about her undressing and stepping under the stream as you changed into your pjs. You tried your hardest not to think about her tight, fit body relaxing under the steam. You tried your hardest not to think about soft bubbles rolling across her soft, pale skin.
Clearly, you were failing. Failing not to think about her. Failing miserably when it came to suppressing your attraction for her.
By the time you climbed into bed, there was a hard, hot pain between your thighs.
You wanted so badly to simply roll over and go to sleep. You wanted to ignore it. But a very large part of you worried that if you didn’t ‘take care’ of that nagging arousal, then you wouldn’t be able to sleep. And if you didn’t sleep and you rolled into the next day with this attraction to Emily still at the forefront of your mind - then you wouldn’t be able to act normal around her for the travel day home tomorrow. You might say or do something stupid.
You had to do something.
The longer you laid there in bed, unconsciously squeezing your thighs together, feeling your pussy throbbing between them - thinking about Emily’s head being trapped between your legs - the more it bothered you.
You had some time while she was in the shower, right? You could be quick. Of course you could. And if you heard the water turn off, you would simply stop.
Before any true logic could catch up between your ears, a hand was sneaking below the waistband of your shorts. That hand easily went inside your underwear and found a natural place on your throbbing clit. You dipped down into your wetness (leaking out of you abundantly from how much you had been thinking about Emily) and slicked up the hot button before you began rubbing it in hard circles. You were determined to cum quickly and be done with it.
You closed your eyes and tiled your head back against the pillow, your mind drifting back to her once again. You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she looked in that ruby lipstick. All night, you had felt jealous of the glass when she brought her drink up to her lips.
You imagined her approaching you at a bar.
You would be out by yourself, and she would see you from across the room. So entirely confident, she would see you and in a moment, know that she could have you.
She would come up behind you, whisper sweetly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked. She would smirk at your initial shyness when you giggled at the compliment. She would tell you that she couldn’t wait to get you home - that she wanted you and she wanted you now.
So she would pull you into a bathroom, pinning you against a counter. And then she would shove her hand under your dress, only to find that you weren’t wearing any panties, just for her. She would scold you, call you a naughty girl. Her voice so sweet and condescending, only making you wetter. And then she would shove her fingers into your slick cunt and shove her other hand over your mouth, trying in vain to keep your whorish moans from being heard as you begged for her.
“Emily, please,” You couldn’t stop the faint, needy moan that escaped you as you got lost in the fantasy.
Of course, so lost in it, that you didn’t hear the shower turning off.
Your pussy ached, leaking freely into your underwear, and your clit throbbed, emanating a needy pain out through your pelvis. You worked your fingers in more frantic circles, doubling down. Your hips canted up off the bed, knocking the covers off you slightly as dull pleasure radiated out across your hips.
(Dull compared to what Emily would have given you, you were sure.)
Even if it was unsatisfactory, you were close.
“Emily-!” You cried out desperately, right on the edge of orgasm.
“Hey, do you have some makeup remover I can borrow? I forgot-”
Shock cascaded through your system and you instantly stilled your movements. This caused your orgasm to become a low hum in your pelvis once again as your eyes shot open in disbelief.
Your gaze locked onto Emily where she stood in the bathroom doorway. Your insides were still with shock - embarrassment or any other emotion hadn’t even caught up yet.
Steam ploomed around her and she was forced to hold up the hotel towel with one hand as it couldn’t fully wrap around her body, leaving a sliver of her skin exposed from her armpit to her knee - the curve of her breast, her waist, and her hip on full display. With her hair soaked and her bangs slicked back from her face, and true to what she had said, her makeup still on but slightly smudged from the shower - she looked utterly delicious.
She was like a pornographic dream, live in front of you.
You let out a quiet whimper at the sight.
It was only then that your brain began to unfreeze from the shock, and you realized how truly incriminating you looked. The covers pooled around your thighs, your hand quite visibly inside your shorts, your face contorted with pleasure as your eyes scanned over her half naked body. You rushed to rip your hand out of your underwear - and you realized the sight wasn’t much better as your fingers glistened in the light.
Emily’s eyes moved from your glistening fingers to your stiff, nervous body, your thighs still parted (as it would be too uncomfortable to clamp them down on your wet underwear and aching cunt). She smirked at you. She looked at you with the same devious, cocky expression that Viper had started out the night with - before she had taken him down notch by notch.
The look alone caused any apology to be stuck in your throat. You waited for her to speak before you made any moves.
“What were you thinking about?” She asked, her voice breathy, soft, yet entirely commanding.
In that moment, caught in the smoldering gate of her eyes, you could find nothing but honesty pounding inside of your chest.
“You.” You whined quietly.
Emily chuckled gently.
Your stomach twisted with embarrassment for the split second that you thought she might be laughing at you. But then you realized that it was, in fact, a sound of satisfaction.
That realization hit you when she dropped the towel completely. She stood in front of you proudly, showing off all of her naked, wet glory. Her dark nipples pebbling in the air, the damp sheen of water making her skin glow like a dewy goddess. Quite obviously, she wanted you to look.
Your eyes traced a few thick droplets of water as they escaped her hair and ran down her body. You became absolutely mesmerized by the way gravity pulled the water over her collarbones, the teardrop curve of her breasts, the plushness of her stomach, across her pelvis, down her thighs. You imagined yourself tracing over those exact lines with your tongue.
“Come to me.”
Her silken voice snapped you out of your trance. Your eyes shot back up to her face once again, and in the sluggish moment that it took the words to get to your brain, she added something onto the command that absolutely knocked the wind out of you.
“Come on. Come to Mama.”
Her calling herself that name, so self assured, so certain - the phrase almost had you down on all fours, crawling to her like a dog.
But instead, you scrambled to get upright and practically ran across the room to her on shaking legs. Entirely eager, you stood in front of her and leaned in to press your mouth against hers. Naturally, you expected that the interaction would start with a kiss.
But she quickly reached up and stopped you with a hand on the side of your neck. You let out a harsh whimper of disappointment - one that quickly turned into a moan when she pressed her thumb into your windpipe with just enough pressure to make your brain go fuzzy.
She was showing you who was in charge.
“Not so fast,” She told you, her breath cascading against your lips now.
Although she was completely naked and you were clothed, it was very apparent that she was the one in complete control.
“Tell me how badly you want it.” She ordered, her voice low and almost gentle - a soft domineering that caused the hairs on your arms to stand up straight.
“I want it so badly,” You easily replied, your voice intensely needy. “I need it. I need you, Em.”
Emily reached up with her other hand and - with no warning - harshly gripped your pussy through your underwear and shorts. This caused sharp shocks of arousal to flow through you, making you moan out weakly. It was a dizzying euphoria that had you bucking into her hand. You almost came from that single touch alone.
“Needy little thing.” She purred. “I am gonna have so much fun with you.”
This was her last verbal sentiment before she pulled you forward by that hand on your neck and silenced any further moans with a bruising kiss.
...
A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a continuation of it. If you enjoyed the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written here. And if you like my writing style, please check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist or my other Masterlists for other fandoms.
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𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘
𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰
𝖕𝖙 1 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊
wc - 5.7k
warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, eventual romance/smut, medium burn?
notes - first part of my owner!soap x pet!reader, woohoo! i already regret writing something centered around texting and calling lmao, crying!! the formatting is killing me!!
anyway, also on ao3! and if you wanna send a request, pls do! ♥
Lonely girl looking for owner.
Posting on this subreddit again was probably a mistake—but a deep-down part of you clings to the hope that this time will be the time you find someone, the time you get to go home to him.
At least this time, you'll be better at spotting the signs right off the bat—if only you can take off the rose-tinted glasses long enough to take note.
Your inbox is flooded with the usual kinds of messages—unsolicited pictures, low-effort one-sentence wonders, and so-called doms jumping straight to the part where they call you a nasty whore with no actual consideration for the person you are.
You're just about to give up, delete the post, and ignore all chat requests when a message arrives in your inbox.
From: squeakycleanscot
Subject: Lonely guy looking for girl
Hi,
Saw your post and knew I had to message. You sound like everything I'm looking for and more.
I'm a little younger than the age you put on your post, but I think I fit your other requirements. I'm 27, Scottish (yes, with the accent), and in the army, I hope that's a turn-on rather than a turn-off.
When I'm not deployed, I like cosy nights in, preferably with my love by my side. Don't mind a night at the pub either, especially if there's a Celtic match on, not that anywhere near here shows them.
I'm looking for something longer term like you mentioned (would love to collar my girl one day, which is probably ironic considering I'm a wee bit scared of dogs.)
Happy to send a picture if you'd like :)
Hope to hear from you soon,
Johnny.
Johnny.
You reread the message, turning his words over in your mind.
Something about his message has your attention—it at least suggests he has a brain in his head and a heart capable of empathy, and that maybe he's serious.
You begin typing your reply instantly, your fingers moving so fast you have to type and retype so many parts to rid the message of all of the overexcited mistakes.
hi johnny,
scottish?! is it bad im already imagining how your dirty talk will sound?
it's funny, i always wanted to join the army growing up, but it never worked out. maybe it's for the best as now i'm not immune to enjoying a hot man in uniform... which I'm assuming you are ;)
cosy nights in are my favourite too! I'm a bit of a homebody and love being snuggled up more than anything. i have to let you know in advance that you have some stiff competition in the form of my giant teddy bear, barnaby.
i'm looking for something longer term too, or at least not a one night kind of thing—a collar one day would be the dream <;3
if you send a picture, ill send one back, nothing sexy just yet though, if that's okay?
have you met up with someone off here before? just curious about your experiences!
y/n
As soon as the message is sent, the overthinking kicks in—was that too much? Is he going to think you're weird?
You shuffle in bed, turning over between the sheets and trying to flick through other apps as you wait for a reply—otherwise, you'd just be staring at the notifications bar waiting for that silly little robot face to pop up.
Johnny doesn't leave you waiting long, only a few minutes passing from your last message.
Maybe you'll find out sooner rather than later just how my dirty talk sounds ;)
I tried to sneak in before I was old enough, but they caught on. Served since I was 18 though, you'll have a lot of stories ready from me if you're ever willing to listen. Not sure if the uniform is anything like you're thinking though, in my unit it's mostly just t-shirts, tac vests and trousers.
I'll prepare my best snuggling arms for if we ever meet. You should inform Barnaby now about his replacement, mind.
Can't not send a sexy photo though, sorry lass, all my pictures are. I'm sure you understand, lol
Haven't met anyone, had a few conversations but nothing worth pursuing, and had kind of given up until I saw your post.
His message is the perfect mix of sexy, sweet, and sincere—and if that is the essence of the man, you know he's everything you're looking for.
You try not to think too hard about a hot Scottish accent calling you all your favourite names or telling you exactly what to do, or even those stories he has to tell, as the idea is all too exciting.
Reading his message, you instinctively reach out to pat Barnaby when you see he may end up replaced—hopefully the poor bear will understand when he has to vacate the bed for this sexy soldier man.
looking forward to it. can I start putting in requests now for bedtime stories too?
i still wanna see, maybe in your sexy-not-sexy pic?
barnaby will be devastated by the news, and you may have to give him hugs too (but not for too long, or i'll get lonely!!!)
same here, about things not going anywhere... or people turning out to be a bit scary, so you're not allowed to let me down, okay?
Maybe the last part of the message was too much, but your heart is already soaring with unbridled hope—along with that hope comes doubt too.
Each second waiting for a reply drags, and you take to re-reading his messages and clicking on his profile to investigate.
It's largely empty of posts, but there are tons of comments across different communities—including his aforementioned football team, r/Scotland, and eyebleach.
Clearly, he's a softie at heart.
When his next message comes through, it's an Imgur link with a short message.
Here we go, a few months old though now. Don't have anything more recent from work :)
You take a moment or two to steady yourself before you tap the link. While you definitely feel like you and Johnny have already started to click, if he's not your type then it probably won't go anywhere...
It's a situation you've been in before—great conversation, similar interests but no physical attraction, and back then you didn't have the heart to break it off straight away.
You tap the link and are greeted by a full-body shot of a tall, well-built man in tactical clothes. His hair is a neatly trimmed mohawk, and while his face isn't crystal clear, he's clearly fucking handsome. His biceps bulge from the gray tee stretched over his torso, his large hands are covered with gloves and grasping a gun.
Your eyes trail to his long legs, thick thighs encased in camo and strapped with various holsters. All in all, the picture is perfect. You find yourself zooming in desperately to get a better look at his face, the handsome jaw lined with stubble that you can already imagine between your legs. The whole image and every new detail has you squirming in your bed, and cheekily wishing to save the image to your phone.
holyfwucj
holy fuck
Like what you see?
i need a hug from you urgently.
now i feel shy...
It had crossed your mind ever so slightly that Johnny may be out of your league, or that he simply may not be attracted to someone like you, which would be a complete shame. Now you've set eyes on him, you want him even more—want to kneel at those feet and stare up at his hulking figure while he tugs on a leash around your neck.
Hopefully, just like you, he'll be smitten from the first glance.
Scrolling through your camera roll, you decide you don't exactly love any recent photos of yourself. The ones at your last work event have you looking far too corporate, and the only image from your last night out was taking in a bathroom mirror in the local Wetherspoons—neither of which is ideal.
You crawl out from the warmth of your sheets, kneeling on the end of the bed and posing as you point your camera in the mirror that sits across the room and captures you perfectly. Before you start snapping, you adjust your top to make sure too much isn't on display, even though it's strappy and cropped, and definitely a little bit more on the tantalising side as far as your pyjamas go.
Hopefully, Johnny likes the pose and the outfit... and you. You can see your smiling face just to the side of your phone as you press to capture the picture—and when you return to your inbox to send the picture link, a message is waiting for you.
I already know you're gorgeous. Don't leave me hanging, bonnie.
okay. this is me now, all ready for bed!!
Holy fuck yourself.
And I'm assuming that's Barnaby in the background.
If he notices the pose, he doesn't comment on it, instead delighting your heart by commenting on Barnaby instead.
sure is! he's ready for snuggles and sleep.
Can you do me a favour?
That message makes your heart skip because usually when something like that is asked, it's followed with a request for nudes or something sexual—and while that is a large part of something like this, you crave the connection first, crave someone actually sticking around and getting to know you.
depends on what it is!
Tell Barnaby to keep looking after you until I get there, yeah?
does that mean you're coming for me?
One day, if we're both lucky.
seems promising so far, Johnny.
Get some sleep, yeah? Maybe tomorrow night I'll give you a bell.
The idea of this conversation ending is heart-wrenching, but at least sleep will bring you closer to that possible phone call. Hearing his voice, now that will be even more incredible.
how do you expect me to sleep after telling me that? so mean!
Patience, bonnie. Be good for me?
You clench, your thighs squeezing together as arousal rushes through you. It's like he knows exactly how far to go, what buttons to press, what you're looking for.
It's the right kind of commanding, toeing the line perfectly between flirtatious and in charge. A lot of guys you've talked to have rushed it made commands too early, and sent you running. Johnny's words, be good for me? You can't help but want to behave.
okay, but I see how this is going to be :(
Bet you look so fucking good with a pout ;)
now you're just being a cruel tease, Johnny...
Sorry, I'll stop. Sleep, yeah, for me?
cuddling up to barnaby now.
You decide to attach another picture, your eyes screwed shut and cheeks squished as you wrap yourself around the bear and cuddle up under the sheets.
talk tomorrow?
Of course, bonnie, sweet dreams <;3
You lock your phone, your eyes feeling relieved as they adjust to the darkness.
For a brief moment, you just clutch your phone to your chest and recall the picture Johnny had sent, how much you'd love to be wrapped up in his arms tonight.
He's the only thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep.
-//-
Your dreams are tumultuous, starting off with a nightmare of being chased and chased until your legs give out, only for you to find salvation and safety in a stranger's arms—one who seemed vaguely familiar.
The first thing you do when you wake is roll over to check your phone, elation overtaking you when you see a notification from Johnny already waiting there—already he's blessing you with a good morning message.
Good morning, sweet girl.
Attached under the picture is another image link, and clicking on it brings up an absolutely gorgeous picture of Johnny, lazing in bed. There's just enough light in the room for you to see the brightness of his eyes that you couldn't see before—his mohawk is mussed, and his smile is easy, drawing you in.
He's even more handsome in this up close photo, you can only imagine what he looks like in person, right before you.
morning Johnny <3 how did you sleep?
Like a baby. Yourself?
not the best, but I swear you were in my dream.
Sorry to hear that, but oh already? What did I do?
I mean, it was a bulky guy with a mohawk but he didn't have your name, I think it was meant to be you though.
You recall the safety you felt in the arms of the strange figure, it was serene, and everything you hope to feel when you find the one—hopefully that's Johnny.
My dreams were shite, you didn't show up.
i'll try harder to be there tonight!!
Promise?
promise.
God, he's so fucking sweet. It's hard to imagine he's into all the things you mentioned in your initial post, at least right now. But you're all too familiar with how appearances can be deceiving—you wonder what else your sweet Scot is into.
You peel back the covers and head out into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on mindlessly as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen—not wanting to be even a minute late to answering Johnny's texts, even though it seems there's a natural lull in the conversation.
You return your focus to making your tea, and your thoughts don't drift from Johnny for even a moment, as you ponder ways to keep the conversation going. Admittedly, you have a million and one questions you want, but you don't want to come across too... eager? clingy? Like some serial killer fiending for information?
It's crazy the way your heart yearns for him so soon—and it's crazy the way that you wish he feels the same as you do. You wonder how his day is going, and if he's staring at your phone waiting for your message.
With tea brewed, you set it on the coffee table and flop onto the plush couch, rushing to open the app when a new notification pops up.
What's your plan for the day?
lazy day, binge-watching... texting you? wbu?
I have to work for a bit, but I'll message you when I can.
On a weekend? That's horrible, but I imagine they run a tight ship over there.
You rush to follow up your message with something else.
will you still be able to call tonight?
Aye, give me your number, I'll save it!
You send off your number and don't hear anything from Johnny for a good few hours. You pass the time watching one of your favourite shows, and trying to resist the urge to go scroll down Johnny's profile once more.
The next time a message pops up, it's well past lunch.
Cute profile pic on whatsapp.
Johnny has clearly added your number to his contacts and spied your picture on the app. You blush thinking of him seeing you in that costume—especially after he knows what you're into.
it was Halloween, I swear!!
You make an adorable little kitten, lass.
imagination running wild now? ;)
Aye, but I'm a gent.
hopefully not always...
Oh, you'll see. Talk to you tonight, kitty.
talk to you then <;3
Now you're just itching, waiting for the hours to crawl by for Johnny's workday to end, so you can talk to him again, so you can finally hear his voice.
What will it sound like saying your name? Whispering sweet nothings in your ears?
The hours pass slowly until a different notification lights up your phone as you cuddle into your sheets.
Hey, it's Johnny! Just got home.
You scramble to click on the pop-up, spying his own profile picture in the corner—tapping on it to view it closer.
It's the Johnny you recognise, smiling wide with his arm slung around another man. He looks so ridiculously happy, probably due to the pint in his other hand. The more you look at him, the more you can't believe you're talking to this man, that he wants to talk to you.
You quickly add him to your contacts, putting a heart next to his name, before you return to the chat and begin to type.
i'm not the only one with a cute pfp!!
Three sheets to the wind in that picture, actually.
i can tell <3
Ready to call?
whenever you're ready!
The image of him floods your screen, the screen pulsing as it waits for you to accept. Your fingers tremble as you press the button, and you fall silent as you press the phone to your ear, nerves gripping at your throat.
"Hi, bonnie." His voice drifts from the phone speaker, sweet like honey and warm like sunshine, with that gorgeous accent too.
"Hi." You squeak out, silently cursing at yourself for being so nervous and seemingly unable to speak.
A melodic laugh follows your words, amused but not cruel or mocking. "Are you nervous?" His voice is soothing, his concern and sweet nature evident.
You cradle your burning cheek, feeling the way your blush spreads across your smiling face. "Just a little, can you blame me?"
He's laughing again, and you hear a shuffling noise that suggests he's getting comfortable. "Don't be, I'll look after yer, I promise."
Fuck. You could get used to hearing that. "I really like your voice." You admit, whispering into the phone with a ridiculous grin on your face.
"I like yours too, you sound so sweet."
You drop your voice lower, giggling mischievously. "Only sometimes."
"That's what I like ta hear." The way Johnny's voice dips as he says that has your insides fluttering, but you can only assume he's returning the favour. His tone returns to its usual charming tone as he asks, "How was your lazy day?"
"Well, I kind of spent a fair bit of it distracted, thinking about this important call I was going to have tonight..."
"Oh aye, I should get off the phone so you can wait then."
"Funny. How was yours? What do you even do day to day, anyway?" You ask, voice brimming with curiosity—there are so many things you want to ask, but you imagine his job can be secretive.
"Lots of training, and sometimes paperwork, which is right shite."
"Not when you don't have someone under the desk keeping you company." You laugh, taking the chance to flirt. If you were into Johnny after reading his messages, actually hearing his voice is only making your attraction soar.
A quiet fuck can be heard, as the man on the end of the phone heaves out a breath. "I'll have ta look into getting you clearance if you keep talking like that, lass."
"Glad to be of service, what can I say?" You find yourself in a giggle fit at your own silliness, a mix of nerves and joy at enjoying yourself so much.
"God, I love yer laugh." The deep sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten.
The drug that is Johnny is already so intoxicating.
"I'm so glad you can't see me blushing."
"I'm no'." He sounds so indignant about that. "But I could listen to that laugh all day, really."
If only he could see you pout too. "Now you're just trying to make me blush more."
He chuckles, his voice dropping dangerously flirtatious again. "Maybe I am, nothing you can do about it."
"Now I'm pouting."
"Better not pout in front of me, lass." His suggestive tone makes you shiver.
"Oh, why's that?" You ask, playing coy.
"'Cause I'll just have to start kissing ya, might even nibble on those soft little lips."
You suppress a delighted squeak, already so flustered at even the idea of a kiss. "I'm not hearing a downside."
"No?"
"Nope."
"Might not be gentle with you, though."
"Good thing that I like it rough." The words are out of you before you can reconsider, but they have exactly the effect you intend as you hear Johnny inhale sharply.
"Ach, you and yer wicked mouth."
"You have no idea..."
He lets out a rough exhale, his voice turning gravelly and deep. "Fuck, bonnie."
"Hey, I'm only repaying the favour, I've been squirming desperately pretty much since I picked up the phone."
He whistles approvingly, his voice now teasing and playfully menacing. "Just you wait til I'm really in ya head."
"You're already making good progress." You admit.
"Oh aye?"
You hum contentedly, eyes flickering shut for a moment. "I'll be imagining your voice as I fall asleep tonight."
"I'll just have ta send yer voice notes to drift off to, so I can end up in your dreams again." You can almost hear the smirk in his voice.
"Already spoiling me, too."
Fuck, how is it this man seems to know exactly what to say? Everything that comes out of his mouth takes root in your brain and sends your thoughts running wild—it's like he's already in your head, or as if someone made him in a lab.
"I'll spoil ya every day, if you're ever mine."
You groan in frustration, unbelieving that a stranger can be so seemingly perfect. "How are you even single, Johnny?"
"I could ask you the same. Taking everything in me to not ask for an address right now, if I'm being honest." He huffs a laugh.
While the idea is thrilling, you know you should have at least some sense of preservation, and shouldn't blurt out your postcode for this strange man you barely know. "I'm worth the wait, I swear." You whisper your promise.
"I'm sure yer are. But to answer your question, my work keeps me busy a lot, and this lifestyle isn't for everyone." There's a hint of vulnerability to his voice, and you sense such a fact is a sore point in his personal life.
In the fantasy of all of this, you suppose the reality of the situation isn't something you'd stopped to consider. Life for a man in the military was surely so different from a regular 9-5. "I'm guessing that you're away a lot?"
"Aye, sometimes for just a few days, sometimes for months, all depends." His admission is soft, as if you can hear in his tone that he's waiting for you to bolt.
If that's the big 'catch' when it comes to Johnny, you can breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I guess you need someone strong and loyal to hold on and wait for you."
There's a tense silence, something lingering in the air.
"Hard to come by, I've found."
The thought makes your stomach twist in the worst possible way. Johnny, at least on the surface, seems so worthy of love.
You chance the question that's on the tip of your tongue, hoping Johnny doesn't mind your reckless curiosity. "Have... you been cheated on?"
"More than once, gets less surprising over the years." He finishes with a sad laugh, as you can tell he tries to infuse humour into the whole thing.
"That's... horrible."
Being sent away from your home to face gunfire and warfare, all to keep the people back home safe... only to be betrayed by the people back home who love you, who are supposed to wait for you. It's a gut-wrenching thought, and your heart aches for the man.
"A few of the lads here have a similar story."
"So the army, not for the faint of heart, and dating an army man, not for the faint of heart." You sigh, though you don't feel put off by the thought.
"Exactly. That you then? Faint of heart?"
"No. I mean, inside I'm clingy as hell, and I'd miss you like crazy every day until you got back..." Your emotions overtake you, as you imagine a future where you'd have to kiss the man goodbye for maybe months at a time. "But I get the feeling that what we could have would be worth the wait. Hypothetically of course."
At that, Johnny laughs, and his light tone returns. "Don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves, aye."
You don't want to get ahead of yourself, you know you shouldn't, but the way you and Johnny have clicked is unlike anything you've felt before. "But... I have a good feeling."
"I do too, already dreading putting down the phone."
"I'm not planning on it anytime soon, even if I have to be up early tomorrow."
"So do I, alarms set for 4."
You do not envy his lifestyle one bit.
"That's awful! I'm gonna be so cranky tomorrow, I might have to use my lunch break for a nap." You admit, preemptively yawning into your hand.
"You one of those perpetually sleepy girls?"
You nod, even though he can't see it. "The sleepiest."
"Barnaby is a lucky bear, getting to cuddle up to you so much."
You burst out laughing at the hint of envy in his words. "Are you... jealous?"
"For now, but soon the tables will turn." He faked an evil laugh, that only makes you giggle harder.
"Oh, you think you can give better snuggles than him?"
"Oh, I know I can, bonnie. The bear can't wrap his arms around yer, can't whisper sweet things in your ear..." His voice dips back into that seductive, teasing tone. "... Can't trail his hands down to that pretty little pussy."
Once more, you flush with desire, every nerve alight as Johnny's words wash over you—although it seems like almost everything he says has your body reacting. "You have an interesting way of cuddling, Johnny."
"Didnae say I was actually gonna do anything once my hands got down there."
"Well, I wouldn't be opposed."
"When you're in my arms, you wouldn't have a choice, lass." The dark, dominant voice makes you shiver, makes your submissive instincts awaken.
"Oh yeah?"
He hums slowly. "Once you're mine, you leave the choices to me. Johnny knows best, yeah?"
"Johnny knows best." You whisper breathlessly, the words coming out automatically, like they just feel right.
"Steamin' Jesus, can already tell yer gonna be the death of me."
"Can't have that, your family won't get your death in service payout!" You laugh awkwardly, before a sense of guilt rears its head. "Sorry, grim joke."
"I don't mind. You should hear some of the ones my Lt. comes out with, he's a right sick bastard." He chuckles.
"Never want to make light of it and hurt you, though."
"Telling jokes makes it easier hen, you'll be wishing me dead in no time at all."
You gasp, shocked by the prospect. "I'd never!"
"Not even when I deny you from touching yourself for my entire deployment? Months of nothing at all?" The sick grin is evident in his voice.
"You wouldn't, that's so mean. You're too sweet for that."
"Aye, for now, but don't you like a little bit of meanness, if yer into men like me..." The edge to his voice and the truth to your words has you trembling.
"Maybe..." You singsong in response, not wanting to give away just how much you liked the idea of his mean side.
"Bonnie..." He tuts disapprovingly. "Don't play coy."
You shudder out a breath as you squeeze your thighs together for relief. "I just don't want you to bully me too much right now, I'm already soaked."
"Is that right?" He seems delightfully surprised by such a revelation.
"Mhmm."
"I'm fucking rock hard if it helps, think I have been since last night..." You hear him shuffle, and you try not to imagine what's happening on the other end of the line, or how he looks lying in bed with said hardness.
When he groans hungrily down the line, you feel yourself quake once more. "The sight of you on your fucking knees... Christ alive."
You can't help but giggle at your unintended teasing. "It wasn't on purpose, I thought it was cute more than anything."
"Adorable and naughty, could cum just looking at it." He huffs.
"You're just flattering me, besides, I could say the same about your picture."
Every part of you flushes thinking of the first photo he sent, all muscle and alpha male—it's like he was the physical embodiment of dominance, and just looking at him makes you want to kneel.
"You like the military get up?"
"Love it, more than I probably should."
"Oh aye, bet you'd love for me to order you around?" His words are playful, but underpinned with a hint of promise. "All in due time, eh?"
"All in due time. What's your rank, anyway?"
"Sergeant."
"Wait..." You take a deep breath as you consider your question. "Can I ask for your last name or is it too soon?"
"Mactavish."
Johnny Mactavish—you should remember to give that a quick Google search later.
"Sergeant Mactavish." You test the name on your tongue, trying to imagine him at work, following and giving orders.
"Sounds too good when you say it, bonnie." He laughs.
"Thank you, sergeant." Your affectation of the word is entirely intentional, as you attempt to rile him up with the use of his title.
The throaty groan that leaves him is addictive.
"What else do you like to be called?"
"Depends on what you want to call me really, but I like... sir."
"I like it too, will have to remember that for the future, and just torture you with sergeant in the meantime." You can't help but giggle as you flirt.
"Oh don't worry, am keeping score." He growls playfully. "Wait til I get ma hands on you, bonnie."
"You're keeping score?" You gasp, a heady mix of fear and arousal coursing through you almost urges you to be even more of a teasing brat.
"Aye, spanking arm at the ready."
"My pouting lips are ready."
"Won't be the only thing you use them lips for."
Fuck fuck fuck. Not that you hadn't thought about it already, hadn't already let your mind drift to what his cock might look like—whether it matches the size of the man—now you're definitely thinking about it. Fixated on it, craving it.
Some cards are best kept close to your chest so early on, so you change tack and go a different direction with his flirtation. "Yeah, with you in the room, I'd probably be smiling a whole lot."
The two of you continue to chat, you asking what you can about his work as he asks about yours, and you fill him in on the boring world you live in, which seems especially boring in comparison to taking down cartels and traveling the world.
The conversation never stops being easy, the flirtation and innuendo always right there at the tip of your tongues as you tease each other relentlessly—giving as good as you get. All night, you're practically grinding against your duvet as you get lost in Johnny's dulcet tones, and you find yourself just letting him speak for the sake of getting to hear more of his voice.
As Johnny is about to ask you more about your background, you're overcome with a harsh yawn that you desperately try to stifle. Your eyes have been shut for the last hour at least, but with the command Johnny has over your nervous system right now, it's been easy to stay awake.
"Tired, bonnie?" He asks, voice laced with sweet concern.
"Yeah..." Your voice falls quiet, as the thought of ending the call makes your throat constrict. "But I don't wanna stop talking."
"Me either, but av got bad news."
You know what's coming, and you know it isn't remotely anywhere near the end of the world, despite what your heart is telling you right now. "Go on."
"I have to go." Even he sounds sad about such an outcome.
"It's not even that late?" The clock reads 2 am.
"Gotta get a wee bit of sleep before I hit the gym, and then get off ta work. Don't you have work too?"
"Work from home tomorrow, so it's not too bad. Not fair though, I wanna keep talking." You admit quietly. It's too much too soon, but you're overwhelmed, the tide of your emotions crashing over the edges.
"Tell yer what. Next time we call, we can try leaving it on while we sleep."
Your heart flips, as you almost whimper at how cute the gesture is. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"
"Obviously." There's that gorgeous laugh again. "Is it working?"
"Just a little, but that might be the lack of sleep talking, I might be going slightly insane."
Johnny sighs, and it's clear he's battling to keep a handle on his self-control. "Rest, bonnie, I won't be able to work knowing you're not sleepin'"
You sigh too, accepting your fate. "Okay, just for you."
"Just want what's best for you, you need your sleep."
Your head spins at how utterly sincere he sounds—the care in his voice after such a short amount of time serves to drive you even deeper into this infatuation. "Already?"
"Can't turn it off, am just protective by nature, bonnie. If you were my girl, you'd have a bedtime."
And that makes your cunt clench and your heart soar. "Johnny..." You whine.
"Yeah?"
You hesitate to say what you want to say next, but everything within you is calling out for him, desperate to be in his arms. "Don't make me wait too long to meet you, please."
His laughter is sweet, conveying a sense of understanding more than anything. "I'll try ma best, supposed to be off on Friday."
"5 whole days."
"Sure you don't wanna wait a bit longer?"
You shake your head, mumbling a sound to convey your feelings. "Feels right, don't know how to describe it... do you feel it too?"
Johnny takes a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks. "I do, lass."
"Good." You couldn't even attempt to fight the idiotic grin on your face, or how warm you feel inside and out. "I'll get some sleep, talk soon."
"Goodnight, bonnie. Sweet dreams."
You wait for Johnny to end the call, not wanting to push the button yourself and have his presence fade away. When your screen dims, you resist the urge to text him more, opting instead to put your phone on charge and roll over to Barnaby—wishing it was Johnny instead.
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