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fire meet gasoline

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Blake knew that Yang was frustrated.

There was the constant fidgeting as they tried to plan their next course of action and hit dead end after dead end, the agitated muttering under her breath as she prepared dinner for the group, the pinkish tint of her eyes reflecting the first embers of her Semblance— all telltale signs which Blake had no trouble recognising after so long as Yang’s partner. But what she wasn’t sure was exactly why Yang was frustrated.

She waited until the end of the day, in case it passed or her partner talked to her of her own volition, but when she came back to their shared room to find Yang on the floor counting out her hundredth push up she knew she needed to say something,


Her partner didn’t look up, too engrossed in the rhythm she’d found with her workout, and Blake tried a different approach. She took the couple of steps to the double bed, sitting down on her half, and when she spoke again she pitched her voice to the soft, smooth tone she knew Yang could never resist.

“Sweetheart,” she started, and as she’d predicted Yang froze. “What’s wrong?”

Yang rolled over onto her back to look up at her, letting out a long sigh. “Nothing’s wrong, just— a lot of things. I’m sick of not knowing what’s coming next—if the world’s going to end tomorrow—and when I’m frustrated my Semblance reacts to my emotions. And I have all this energy I need to burn off, but nothing I do works, which makes me more frustrated, which just makes it worse, and—”

Yang cut herself off with a groan of pure irritation, running a hand over her face, and Blake felt a pang of sympathy. She couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like— having an itch you needed to scratch but no means of finding relief from it.

“Shhh.” She made the words as soothing as possible, hoping it would help. “Come here.”

She moved to sit against the headboard, and Yang climbed onto the bed, wasting no time curling into Blake’s side and nuzzling into her neck. After a moment Blake began to card her fingers slowly through Yang’s hair, hearing a quiet release of breath as her partner got settled.

“Is this any better?” Blake asked after a minute had passed in silence, and Yang shifted a little, repositioning herself.

“Yeah. Yeah, it helps,” Yang said, and several more minutes went by peacefully, but Blake could still feel the heat radiating off of her partner—the way Yang would occasionally shift restlessly against her side—and she suspected that Yang wouldn’t just be able to relax until it went away unless she found some way to channel it.

Sure enough, several seconds later she felt a soft kiss against her neck, and she tried to keep her breathing even as Yang did it again, and again, moving up the column of her throat as her lips pressed warm and solid against Blake’s skin, sending a shiver down her spine as she fought to keep her back from arching.

Blake shifted to catch Yang’s mouth with her own instead, kissing her gently. She didn’t want to let this go too far until she was sure that her partner genuinely wanted it and wasn’t simply trying to find yet another way to let off her excess steam. Then Yang’s teeth grazed across her bottom lip and Blake had to pull back before she lost what was left of her rational thought.

“Are you sure about this?” she murmured against Yang’s mouth.

“Yeah.” Yang’s voice was low and breathy and Blake felt a familiar heat begin to coil in her abdomen, winding tighter as she kissed her partner again, more eager— more urgent. “I want you, baby.”

Blake’s stomach fluttered, and she pulled Yang into her lap, slipping her tongue into her mouth and her hands under her shirt as she let go of the restraint that had been holding her back. Yang moaned, loud enough that Blake could feel it as well as hear it, and when her partner’s hips rocked into her own Blake found herself empathising with Yang’s frustration.

There was no way she could give Yang what she needed like this, and she sat up, taking hold of her partner’s hips and guiding her into a slower, steadier rhythm. She popped the button on Yang’s jeans and tugged down the zip, two fingers sliding past the band of her underwear to give her something better to grind against. Yang’s lips parted, and the whine that escaped pooled between Blake’s legs— Yang was so wet, so warm, so eager, and it was beautiful.

Struck by a surge of inspiration, and remembering something that had been very well-received in a similar scenario before, Blake brought her other hand down sharply against Yang’s ass. She knew it couldn’t have been as effective as she would have liked through the barrier of the denim, but Yang still let out a strangled sound of pleasure, the movement of her hips faltering for a second as Blake felt her grow even wetter.

When Yang regained her rhythm she picked up the pace, and Blake could tell that she was close. The sound of the bedsprings complaining at the force of their passion reached Blake’s ears, and it combined with Yang’s panted breaths and ragged gasps of her name to send her mind into overdrive. On instinct she gave Yang’s ass another slap—just a fraction harder—and she watched as it unravelled her.

Yang’s eyes were closed, her spine curving forwards, her thighs trembling, her face flushed, her hips stuttering to a halt as she rode out her release. Blake doubted it would be enough, though. Yang’s Semblance hadn’t activated yet, and when she opened her eyes Blake found they were still faintly tinted with red, telling her that it was going to take something more to get Yang’s energy to boil over.

She encouraged Yang off of her lap, and then she stood, starting to feed her belt through the loops in the waistband of her trousers. Yang was watching her every move with rapt attention, and Blake made a show of it as she wound the leather slowly around her hand instead of dropping it to the floor like usual, teasing at what was to come.

“You remember your safe word?”

Yang just nodded furiously, and Blake guessed she’d been momentarily stunned speechless by the implications of what was about to happen. That was fine— Blake would get her to make plenty of noise soon enough.

“Then get on your hands and knees.”

Yang did as she was asked without hesitation, moving onto all fours facing the headboard, and Blake took her place behind her. Her hands were shaking ever so slightly with nerves as she pulled Yang’s trousers down around her ankles along with her underwear, but she could also feel anticipation thrumming in her blood, urging her to keep going.

She leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the top of Yang’s spine, enjoying the way her partner’s muscles twitched under her lips, all of the pent up energy prickling just below the surface.

“You good, sweetheart?”

“Better than good.” Clearly Yang had found her words again, and Blake smiled. She took her time snapping the clasp on Yang’s bra, easing the straps down her arms before tossing it onto the floor. She dropped one final kiss between Yang’s shoulder blades and then she pulled back, feeling much more confident with the reassurance of her partner’s desire.

But she didn’t move straight to what she had planned. Instead she buried two fingers deep inside slick heat, building Yang up with hard, measured strokes but slowing down every time she felt her partner tighten around her, nearing the edge. If she wanted to truly satisfy Yang—to draw out every ounce of stress and leave her a boneless mess of pleasure instead—then she needed to make her wait for it.

Every time she was denied, Yang’s moans would get louder, sweat beginning to bead across the plane of her back, her hips pressing back into Blake in an attempt to reclaim the missing friction. But while all of it was arousing beyond words, leaving Blake with a throbbing ache between her legs that she tried to push to the back of her mind for the moment, it wasn’t what she was waiting for.

“Please— please, Blake. Please, I need—”

That was what she had been waiting for. Yang had a strong sense of pride and a deep-set stubborn streak, so getting her to beg was always a surefire sign that she was absolutely desperate. Sensing that it was the right moment—that her partner was ready—Blake brought the belt down, the leather leaving its mark on tanned skin. Yang cried out, fingers fisting the sheets until her knuckles turned white, and Blake ran a gentle hand over the place where she’d struck.

“Colour?” she asked, leaning forward to whisper into Yang’s ear.

“G-Green.” Yang’s voice was shaky but sure, and Blake felt a wave of relief that trying this hadn’t been pushing things too far.

She let the tension hang, giving Yang time to wonder about all the different possibilities, and then in an instant she had drawn her other hand back and delivered another stinging slap with her open palm instead. Yang fell forward onto her elbows, completely caught off guard, and the sound of pleasure she made was high and breathy and loud. Blake followed up with another crack of the belt—and another, and another—before Yang could regain her equilibrium and come to expect it, and her partner’s whole body was trembling, hair sparking as the rough treatment finally triggered her Semblance.

Mission accomplished, Blake discarded the leather onto the floor, and no sooner had she pressed three fingers between her partner’s legs then Yang was pushing back, taking them inside. Blake set a punishing pace without needing to be asked, driving the headboard against the wall and the breath from Yang’s body with every thrust, and it didn’t take long for Yang to light up, hair glowing and sheets smoking as she finally reached orgasm.

Blake stayed until she was certain that Yang had come back down to earth, and then she ran a hand soothingly down Yang’s arm and left a kiss on the top of her head before rising from the bed to grab what she needed from the bathroom.

“I’ll only be a moment,” she said, and Yang gave her a lazy hum of acknowledgement, clearly utterly drained now that all of her pent-up energy had been set free.

Blake retrieved a bottle of lotion from the cabinet in the bathroom and headed back to her partner. She doled out some lotion into her hands before setting the bottle aside, and then she carefully ran her hands over the curves of Yang’s backside, massaging it in and letting it soothe the reddened skin. Her partner let out an appreciative sigh, melting into the mattress, and Blake couldn’t help the fond smile that formed on her features.

When she was done she quickly returned the lotion to the bathroom and took her place on her half of the bed, sliding under the covers and relaxing into the pillow. Yang clumsily pulled her close, already at least halfway to sleep, and Blake felt more than heard the love you that was mumbled into her hair. She’d always preferred to be the little spoon on nights when Yang wanted her to take the lead in bed, enjoying the contrast of vulnerability after control, and tonight was no exception as she settled into the warmth of her partner’s embrace with a love you too of her own.