Blurred Lines

6. the crucible ⚠️

smut warning: it's in a BDSM club, what do you expect?

---

Emily brings me to one of the tables in the middle of the club. She sits while I remain standing. All the memories are flooding back to me, so I'm lost, stuck in my head. "Y/n," Emily says my name, but I am focused on a rack not too far from where our table is. "Y/n," she grabs my wrist, pinching me with the cuff. "Yes, Mistress?" I break from my trance. "Sit," she says, gesturing at a chair. I do, pulling the chair as close to hers as possible.

"What was Joe talking about?" She asks. "The last time I was here was not a good experience for me," I tell her. Flashes of that night race through my head and I shudder involuntarily. "Tell me," she says. I don't want to make those memories come to life again by voicing them out loud, nor do I want Emily or the rest of the team to look at me differently because of it.

"Um," I point to my earpiece, hoping she'll get the hint. She narrows her eyes at me, unhappy she isn't getting her way. She mercifully allows me to keep my memories to myself. "Thank you, Mistress," I breathe. "Don't thank me, you've simply earned yourself a reprieve. I will be finding out one way or another," she says darkly.

I nod. That's to be expected. Emily is like a dog with a bone to begin with, I can only imagine what this version of Emily is like. I glance at the glasses on the table. "Mistress, may I have my drink?" I ask her. I desperately need something to help me take the edge off while we are here. "Yes, drink it slowly, this is the only drink I'm buying you," she tells me. Fuck. One drink won't be enough to get me through tonight.

I nod anyways, reaching for my drink. I take a small sip of it, savoring the alcohol. Joe always made my drinks extra strong, and that's how this one is. I hum appreciatively, the ratio just right. I look around the club, attempting to find anyone suspicious. Everyone is too deeply involved with their scenes to stand out as our unsub.

I feel a hand on my leg, and I look over at Emily. She was watching me scope out the place, her eyes dark. "Mistress?" I tilt my head at her. "Come here," she says, holding out her arms. I hesitate only briefly before moving to sit gingerly in her lap. I wrap my arms around her neck as she gazes up at me. "That's better," she murmurs, her hands wrapped around my waist.

"Angel, did you see anyone that fits our profile?" She discreetly murmurs to me, placing a kiss behind my ear as she does. Oh god. "N-No, Ma'am," I breathe. I hate how that one simple touch of her lips has me melting for her. Her lips brush my neck as she says, "Keep looking." "Yes, Ma'am," I stutter out, too focused on her lips slowly heating my skin.

I get uncomfortable, but not because of Emily's soft kisses on my neck. I glance around, trying to see what is making me feel that way. I don't see anyone, but I can't shake the feeling. "Someone is here," I lean to whisper in her ear. "Someone that fits the profile?" She murmurs back, pausing her movements to look at me. I shake my head, "I don't know, I just feel uncomfortable, like someone's watching me that shouldn't be."

Her grip on my waist tightens. "You're safe with me, Y/n, you know that," she grits out, her eyes bouncing through the club. "Yes, Mistress, I know," I assure her. "Good," she says firmly, "Now, shall we give whoever is making you feel that way a warning?" I look into her eyes. Though her face is hardened at the fact I feel uncomfortable, her eyes are soft. I smile at her.

"Color?" She asks. "Green," I whisper. "Oh my God," I hear in my earpiece. "Shut up, Alvez," Emily hisses lowly. I laugh as I hear him yelp. "Tara just smacked me," he complains. "Serves you right you little shit," I hear Tara say. Emily ignores them, as do I, our gaze locked on each other's. She grabs my arms, sliding her hands down to my wrists. She pushes them behind me, and I lean forward for her as she clips the two cuffs together.