Chapter Text
You’re bound and kneeling. Your world is floaty, nothing of concern. Touch feels more intense. Words are slower. “The ropes look so sexy, baby,” JJ purrs. Her fingers trail along the textured cord where it binds your arms behind your back. “Do you feel good?”
“Yes ma’am,” you manage. It turns into a squeak when her touch between your legs surprises you. JJ smirks, her high ponytail swings slightly, and for a moment you get caught up in its movement. She’s in nothing but a bra and panties. You can feel Emily somewhere in the room, but you can’t see her. You squirm. It’s not necessarily intentional in the sense that you don’t think about it. That’s not how your thoughts work in a subspace. But you squirm all the same, and Emily appears to correct you, a sharp swat with a flogger and her grip firm on your chin. “Sorry,” you mumble, even though you feel a sense of relief that you can see them both. The leather tails of the flogger hit against your ass again, and you gasp.
You don’t know how long you’ve been playing. Time doesn’t exist in this space. It’s like a Vegas casino in that respect. No clocks, nothing to track the movement of time, and here at least it doesn’t matter. It’s nothing for you to worry about. Emily uses her fingers in your collar to hold your face between her legs. The instruction is clear, and you’re happy to abide. “Such a good girl,” JJ praises. “That’s it, baby.” When the collar doesn’t give her the leverage she wants, Emily knots her fingers in your hair, grinding her hips against your face. Your lungs burn, but you keep your focus. You were given an instruction, and it’s the only thing that matters.
When Emily finds her release, it’s with a quiet groan. She pulls you to your feet, pushing you against a wall roughly. She kisses you, all teeth and tongue, consuming desire. She’s thorough and demanding; there’s no doubt in the way she kisses you that she’s in control. Her hand wraps around your throat, and you moan, a plea falling from your lips. “I know you like to be choked, pretty girl. You love that every last breath of yours is mine to control. Isn’t that right?” You nod. Her grip tightens; pleasure sparks like fireworks in your brain. Your blood runs hot. It feels so good.
——
It happens too quickly. Emily is careful as ever, keeping her eyes glued to the young woman’s face. She doesn’t want to find the limits, not of this kink; it feels too dangerous. It’s a blink, nothing more. Ace is clearly enjoying it, and then her body goes limp. Panicked, Emily lets go, but she hadn’t expected Ace to pass out, so she wasn’t supporting her body. She didn’t think she needed to. JJ just manages to get her arm around the young woman’s waist before she hits the floor. “Shit! Shit! Shit,” Emily curses, scrambling for the ever-present sharp knife to cut away the rope bindings. JJ gets Ace flat on her back with her legs propped up to increase blood flow. Emily finds Ace’s pulse with two fingers, relieved to feel it beating steadily but feeling a whole host of other overwhelming emotions.
“What the hell was that,” JJ growls.
“I don’t know!”
“We don’t take breath play this far.”
“I know that! This wasn’t intentional. She just… I don’t know, Jen. I did what we always do,” Emily insists. “Ace, love…” She cradles the girl’s cheek, worry running thick in her veins. The guilt is blanketing her, making it hard to think. “Ace,” she calls sadly. “C’mon, my love.”
“Did she eat today,” JJ wonders out loud. Emily doesn’t know. She hadn’t thought she needed to check. This isn’t their first time playing with breath control, but it’s the first time it’s gone poorly. Now the wisdom of some of her kink community mentioned rings true. Nutrition, hydration, exercise - all play a part in how a scene goes. She didn’t realize how specific to breath play that could be. That’s her responsibility. She can feel her top drop sinking in, and she welcomes the hurt of it. “Emily!”
——
Your mind feels cloudier, as you blink back to reality. You turn into the warmth you feel. You can’t place it yet, but you know it in your bones. You seek it out. You know it’s where you’re safe. It takes a second longer to recognize JJ. “I’m right here. It’s okay, baby. Just breathe for me.”
Then it’s Emily, peeling you out of JJ’s arms. You curl into her. You know her safety. You’re not really present yet, but you know Emily. You know her body, her touch, the way she holds you. “Please tell me you’re okay,” she murmurs against your ear. You hum a soft sound, clinging to her. “It’s okay, love. You’re okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Baby, talk to me.”
“Green,” you murmur.
“No, my love, no. We’re not in the scene. Just us. Okay? How do you feel?” That confuses you, and your brows knit into a frown. Your subspace is still thick. “You passed out,” Emily explains guiltily. “I’m sorry.” You blink a few times. “You passed out while I was choking you,” Emily admits sadly, self-pity lacing every word. You lift a shoulder in a shrug. It doesn’t change how safe you feel right now.
JJ reads your behavior as acceptance and sighs almost angrily. “No, baby, it’s not okay. That’s a hard limit. C’mere.”
You don’t understand. Your brain feels cloudy, and this feels like a lot to process. You’re safe here with your face buried in Emily’s neck, her arms around you. You’d be safe with JJ too. You know that, but right now something makes you want to stay with Emily. “Go to Jen.” You recognize her guilt through the fog, a cavern settling between you. She’s closing herself off.
JJ tries to pull you into her lap, away from Emily, but you can’t. “No,” you mumble. “No, no.” You wrap your arms around Emily’s neck, desperate to stay close.
“Go to Jen,” she repeats, her voice cracking. “She’ll take care of you and get you leveled out.”
“No!” You don’t have the words yet. You can’t explain it. You just know you’re where you need to be. “Please. Don’t make me go.”
——
It’s that phrase that breaks through Emily’s self-incrimination. It’s more than just her submissive holding onto her, begging for a connection. It’s Ace, and that phrase snaps her out of it enough, just enough, to snuggle the young woman tightly to her chest. She feels Ace relax in the embrace. Emily finds JJ’s eyes. She’s hesitant and unsure. None of them expected this. JJ swallows down her initial reaction and nods. It’s not forgiveness. It’s barely understanding. It’s just a communication between the two dominant partners that JJ sees Emily’s struggle. As long as Ace is willing and safe, JJ will let it play out, but her focus is very much on the physical wellbeing of their third. Passing out mid-scene is very, very rare. Disassociated, sure. Delirious with pleasure, definitely. Unaware of reality, yes. Participating to completely limp, without a doubt. Literally passing out is a hard limit; it’s a body reaching the extent of what it can give.
“Check in with me, love,” Emily encourages, cradling the back of Ace’s head. “Be honest with me.”
“M’okay,” she answers slowly. JJ and Emily can tell she’s not fully back to herself. “M’kay.” JJ finds her pulse, letting the steady beat reassure her. She tries to quiet the anger and the fear that made the wrong kind of adrenaline rush through her veins. Emily asks about her headspace. “Foggy.”
“Okay, let’s bring you out of it a bit. Nice and slow. Then we’ll check in again. At any point, if you’re not comfortable being with me, JJ is right here. She can take you.”
“M’okay.”
JJ disappears briefly, very very briefly. Normally she’d trust Emily endlessly, but right now, she’s nervous and fearful and all of that is temporarily overriding her ability to remember or understand that Emily didn’t do this on purpose. She helps the young woman have some water. “Let me take you just for a moment, so Emily can relocate to a more comfortable spot.” The floor of one of the club’s playrooms is not the place to do this. “I promise, if you want to be cuddled up with her, that you can do that while I do the rope checks, okay?”
Emily chooses the usual spot, and for a brief moment, the cold, aloof facade that will keep all of this hurt hidden feels like a siren’s call. She wants to feel the guilt and the pain of it without showing that vulnerability to anyone. Then Ace reaches out for her, and Emily hears the words in her head like a broken record. Don’t make me go. They don’t know a lot of her history yet, but they’re profilers with a lot of experience seeing childhood trauma, especially from foster care, magnify into foundational insecurities. That one for Ace is unbearably loud, and it’s enough to keep her own gut reaction at bay, even just for a little bit.
JJ helps Ace onto Emily’s lap. “I’m going to do rope checks,” she explains gently. “First focused on your back and your arms, then on your chest. I’m going to move your body as I need to,” JJ reminds like she does every time. “If something hurts or it feels uncomfortable, get our attention, okay?” Ace nods her consent and leans into Emily.
The routine of bondage aftercare brings her out of that mentality little by little. By the time JJ is applying some lotion to a few of the chafed areas, Emily can feel the difference in Ace’s energy. “You back with us, love?”
“Getting there.”
“Do you remember what happened?” She nods and doesn’t move. “Okay. Check in with me. We need to make sure you’re okay.”
“M’okay.”
“Baby, I swear…” JJ pauses her words, feeling the frustration like a heavy weight. “Please actually tell us what’s going on with your body.“
“Not there yet.”
The room feels tense, and the girl resists coming back to herself. Emily’s anxiety gets the best of her, and she starts spitballing questions when she knows Ace should be back to her regular headspace. “Okay. Did you eat today? Were you hydrated? Was your gym time more intense than normal? Did anything unusual happen?” Emily feels Ace stiffen in her arms. “What?” JJ feels her pulse pick up. “Have some more water, love. Take it easy. Think through your senses and clear your head.” When the water is finished, Emily prompts her again. “What was that reaction?”
“I did eat, and I think I had enough water,” she murmurs. “But I also needed my inhaler midday. I didn’t think about it.” Emily exhales slowly. That was a variable she had not considered in the slightest despite knowing about Ace’s albuterol prescription.
——
You apologize sheepishly, burying yourself as close to Emily as you can get. JJ’s voice is undeniably soft and concerned as she rubs your back. “What happened midday?” You shrug because explaining the randomness of your PTSD isn’t something you want to do. All things considered the panic attack you had was small, and you disappeared into a stairwell to get your shit under control before it could be noticed by anyone. The inhaler usage was just to help quell the tightness in your chest, and it went away. It was the last thing on your mind when the mask secured over your eyes before the club’s entrance.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t think about it. It was brief. I wasn’t feeling any of the symptoms at all by the time we were even talking about this outlet tonight.”
“Baby, you have to tell us these things,” JJ chides calmly. “It makes a difference especially like this.” You nod immediately. You get it. You’ll tell them next time.
The rest of it feels awkward and uncertain. You’re not used to aftercare feeling like this. When you get back to their place, you fumble around, not knowing how to exist. Emily acts almost aloof, which confuses you. She’s short with JJ but polite with you. You opt to go back to your apartment because you don’t necessarily know what to do. “You don’t have to go, baby,” JJ encourages. “It’s okay.” You squirrel away anyway.
——
When the door thuds hollowly behind Ace, JJ takes a moment to herself to breathe. She’ll deal with whatever got stirred up later. Right now her focus is Emily and the inevitable top drop the older woman is sinking in. “Honey, we have to talk about it,” JJ encourages when she ferrets Emily out where she is sullenly working through her nighttime routine.
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Don’t do that,” JJ sighs exasperatedly. “We don’t do that. We’ve been at this too long together.” Emily brushes her off. “No one expected that outcome. You and I were upset. Honestly I thought she’d be upset too. An accident during a scene can be really hard to process.”
“You don’t have to talk to me like I’m new to the game, JJ. It happened. Leave it alone.”
“No because it’s affecting you. Are you mad at her? Mad at yourself? Are you…”
“I’m not anything, JJ,” Emily snaps. “Okay? A scene went sideways. I’m allowed to be grumpy, and it doesn’t mean we need to hash out our souls. Just give me some time to think it through.” JJ lifts her hands in defeat, giving Emily the space she wants.
Later when JJ texts the young woman to make sure she made it home safely, all that’s returned is a two word message. “Stubborn fucking women,” JJ grumbles.
——
You’re hopeful that maybe things will be back to normal when the morning rolls around, but Emily is still talking to you like you’re a guest at one of her mother’s political functions. By lunchtime, it’s affecting you more than you thought her behavior would.
When the afternoon lull settles in, you venture out to retrieve her favorite coffee combination. Nervously you bring it to her desk. “What’s this,” Emily asks like she can’t tell it’s a to go cup from the cafe around the corner.
“For you,” you mumble anxiously. “Maybe could we talk? Please?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
She leans back in her chair, looking at you with her fingers pressed together in front of her chest. You slowly realize she isn’t intending to leave her desk. “Somewhere more private?” You feel like you’re about to crawl out of your skin. You’re not sure what you need to do to fix it.
JJ throws a balled up piece of paper at Emily’s face. “Take the nice coffee. Get up. Take a walk, Emily.” You shoot her a grateful smile over your shoulder, and she winks at you encouragingly.
Emily goes as far as the stairwell, which is better than nothing. “I… uh… well… sorry…” Your nervous ramblings aren’t helping. “I mean, I’m sorry I fucked up yesterday and that it ruined the scene.” Emily scoffs, and your brow furrows. “I’m not sure what I said wrong just now,” you admit quietly.
“You think I’m upset because the scene fell apart?”
“No,” you guess because you’re at a loss. She rubs at the tension in her forehead. “I’m sorry I kept the inhaler thing to myself. I didn’t realize it was a factor that I needed to share, and now I do. I’ll tell you for next time.” You’re cautiously hopeful that there still gets to be a next time.
“Do you have any survival instinct,” Emily bites.
You clarify dumbly because the question doesn’t make sense. She simply repeats herself without adding any context. “Umm… I mean… yeah, but I don’t need it with you. I’m safe with you,” you mumble. Emily rolls her eyes sharply. “What? I know I’m safe with you, so my survival instinct or whatever you’re going on about doesn’t need to kick in like that.”
“I choked you until you passed out. Pretty sure that’s the definition of when your body should be fighting back.”
“That wasn’t your fault though,” you insist genuinely. “You were missing critical information, and I’m okay. It was an accident. Those happen. I’m not stupid… I know what the risks are when we included that … concept… in those moments.” You really don’t want to start defining kinks and consent in the stairwell of the FBI building. “It was an accident.”
“You are my responsibility when we do that. I told you that from the beginning. You passed out. Not just on my watch, but directly because of my actions. I blew through one of your hard limits. Accident or not, it’s not okay.”
“Even though you’re you, there’s still stuff to learn. There’s still a margin for error. There’s an inherent risk when we do that; you’ve told me that since the beginning like you said. You do everything you can to mitigate that risk, and some of it is always going to be there because that’s the nature of that kind of … self expression. I’m not mad at you or upset with you or any of those things. I still trust you. Maybe we add some structure around that activity, so we all know the factors to consider. Maybe we have a word or a touch that I give you when I’m feeling lightheaded. I don’t know. We talk it through, right? That’s what you demand we do all the damn time, so why aren’t we applying it to this?”
Emily’s sigh is loud and seems to echo in the concrete walls of the stairwell. “You passed out.”
“Yeah, it happens. For me, more often than not for a lot of different reasons. I’m okay. You made sure I was safe. I’m all good, Em. You’re not getting blame from my side. I am sorry I scared you,” you profess as sincerely as you can manage. “I didn’t intend to keep the information from you. I just didn’t realize it was relevant, and I was excited about everything else, so it didn’t even occur to me as something to be shared. Now I know better. I’m sorry I scared you,” you say again.
She leans back against the wall, very clearly profiling you. You wait for her to find what she’s looking for (or the absence of it). When she does, she nods slowly. “Okay. Come over tonight. We’ll talk it through. We’ll level out.” She lifts her cup of coffee. “Thanks for this. I needed a pick-me-up.”
Before Emily can disappear back to the bullpen, you stop her gently. “Umm… Em… are we okay? I… uh… it’s hard when you’re so polite and formal with me. Do I need to do something else to fix it? Or us? Or something?”
“We’re okay. We’ll talk more at home later, okay?” You anchor your bottom lip in your teeth and nod hesitantly. It’s better than nothing, even if it doesn’t necessarily feel fixed. Cognizant of the inevitable cameras here, Emily rubs the outside of your shoulder in a friendly way. She offers you a true smile. “We’re okay,” she says again.