boxitup | fun shippy fluff don't hate us 'cause you ain't us

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fun shippy fluff don't hate us 'cause you ain't us

It's been a few months since the failsafe reached the Heart, and they're finally doing something they'd always thought they'd do together: they're exploring Etheria.

They started off in the vicinity of Bright Moon and wandered from there, following maps to find towns and stopping at unmarked settlements along the way. Teaching each-other tidbits they'd picked up, learning others together. Filling in gaps in their knowledge of the world.

They're at the edge of some small village now, replenishing supplies for their trip. Or, well. Adora is replenishing supplies. Catra had been left to set up their campsite, which she did, and one playful swipe led to another and then to some tackling and rolling around, and then to a small chase, and then Melog had proudly created an illusory duplicate of themselves to get her off their tail.

So now there are two Melogs, and Catra's on all fours, her tail trailing an eager 'S' in the air as her eyes dart between them. The Melogs are in much the same position, and they mewl at her in synchronization as both their and Catra's shoulders shimmy down, ready to pounce. The campfire she was supposed to light is well and truly forgotten some distance away, the branches and tree litter strewn messily about. She's got bits of it stuck in her hair and in her fur, and even Melog's picked up a leaf or three from their playing.

That doesn't matter. What matters is choosing the right one.

Her claws twitch against the soft ground, the vibrant green grass that Adora's magic had restored a pleasant cushion against them. She breathes deep, steadies herself; and with a cry, launches at the Melog on the left.

Either she's correct or both of them were corporeal, because she connects and rolls with them in a tumble, a laugh bubbling up from her chest as Melog's tongue licks messily up her cheek. Her objection - "Ugh!" - is lost under the smoosh of their muzzle against her face as they increase their size to pin her, and their exaggerated purr rumbles right through her bones.

"Okay, okay." Catra pushes at them, grinning and with laughter in her words despite her struggling efforts. "You won, I get it! Now let me up! We have to finish before Adora gets back."

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The laugh leaves Catra's lips before she can stop it, and lingers in her smile even after she cuts it off. Her tail still swishes happily as she rises onto her toes the bit needed to cover the difference in height, using her hand on Adora's waist to keep balance.

It's a kiss Adora gets, though only through technicality. Catra's lips press against the lower of Adora's only; brushing against it gently as hers part to suck on that purple stain, her teeth holding Adora's lip carefully in place so her tongue can swipe across the sweet-tart taste in languid strokes, back and forth, and press against it with teasing flexes of her tongue.

Catra does not lower back to the flats of her feet as she pulls back, licking the taste from her own lips, glints of fang slipping through. If Adora doesn't make the next move, she probably will.

"That-- that wasn't even a real kiss," Adora huffs, even though the tingling on her lips and fluttering in her chest are very much real. Her hand moves from Catra's shoulder to her nape, pulls her in properly-- lips smothering lips in full, tongue seeking tongue.

It only lasts a few moments before Melog's impatient yowl reminds them that their camp setup is still awfully lacking, and that dinner isn't going to prepare itself. Adora can't begrudge them for it-- her stomach's kinda grumbling, too. And she got her 'welcome back' kiss, finally, so she's pleased for now.

"Okay, okay. Let's get that fire going." And she plucks a stray leaf from behind Catra's ear before pulling back, lips quirked into a half-smile. "Pretty sure those berries just made me hungrier."

Melog's admonishment surprises Catra, her body going stiff for a short beat in Adora's arms before she parses the alien's message. Melog doesn't even need to eat, why are they complaining about food?

Then her stomach rumbles, Adora's mention of the berries setting it off, and okay. Maybe Melog's interruption was warranted. Catra does get rather lost in kissing Adora. Could easily spend an entire day just laying beside her, curled up in her arms and lazily enjoying the feel of her lips.

As it is, she doesn't want Adora to pull away; and Catra's arm slips around her waist to continue holding her close, a purr rumbling in her chest at Adora's smile.

"One more." Then they can do everything else.

Adora lets out a dopey, high-pitched giggle, unable to help herself. Catra's cute. She'll tease her by withholding kisses and then ask for more. While purring. How could Adora say no to that?

"One more," she agrees with an ear-to-ear grin, and cups Catra's chin to stroke underneath as she pulls her back in.

That dumb, endearing giggle and that stupid melting grin. How can Catra not purr? And how can she not tilt her chin to encourage that stroke, the vibrations in her chest growing louder as she softens into Adora's touch?

Melog warbles, loud and plaintive, and Catra pulls back from the sweet kiss with an annoyed sigh, the purr dying with it.

"We haven't forgotten the food," she complains, peering around Adora to meet Melog's unwavering gaze. They remain unconvinced, and Catra narrows her eyes at them but drops back to her heels anyway. Fine. After dinner and their walk, she's going to spend the whole night kissing Adora and Melog can just deal with sitting outside the tent and being ignored.

"Ugh, come on. They're not going to let it go." Retaking Adora's hand, she'll lead her the short distance to the would-be fire, setting the berries down to get to work. The sooner they eat, the sooner she can get Melog off her case.

Adora laughs as they break the kiss off-- it's hard to be mad at Melog when they're right, the two of them could easily go at this for ages. If they kiss too long now, they'll have dinner late, and be too tired to go on their walk, and Adora really wants to go on that walk.

So she'll be good, exercise self-control, and kiss Catra later.

Once the two of them have stopped distracting each other, setting up camp and prepping dinner is a cakewalk, and before long they're gathered around the fire, happily stuffing their faces. Or at least Adora is stuffing her face, because she's hungry, okay, and the delicate art of chewing all the way through before swallowing has eluded her since the first bite she took into non-Horde food.

"Mmf. So good." Swallowing before talking? Also eludes her. "You catch the best fish."

"It was easy." Smugness comes naturally, and though Catra still picks at the fish with the weird sort of refinement she'd learned, her tail swims with pride and her ears lift as she chews through another chunk. As long as Adora's keeping her gross eating habits to herself and not spraying food everywhere, they've got no problem here. "They were practically jumping out of the water. Even you could've grabbed some if you'd tried."

She's not going to mention that she'd spent a lot of time watching the fish with Melog, the two of them entranced by the quick movements. Or that once she'd finally given into the urge and snapped up one as it breached the surface, that she'd yelped in surprise at how slippery and strong it was, and promptly dropped it back into the river.

The second and third attempts had, obviously, gone a lot better.

"And they're all over the place, too." She's allowed to sound pleased about that, as she glances sidelong at Adora with a small smirk, shifting to bump their knees together. "It doesn't matter if we get too far away from the towns, now. We can go anywhere."

Catra's sense of accomplishment is plain to see, and it makes Adora's chest swell with affection. "Maybe we'll do a fishing contest next time," she teases lightly. "Is it bare hands only, or can I use my sword?"

Her odds aren't great there, either way. Adora might be the stronger one between the two of them, but Catra always had her beat in terms of agility. But it could be a fun use of an afternoon just the same; Adora likes Catra's competitive grin, the spark in her eyes when she's winning.

She returns the bump to her knee before shuffling closer, shifting to rest against Catra's side. "... Yeah," she sighs around a mouthful of bread, then swallows. "Anywhere."

After a beat of pensive silence, a sudden, giddy giggle climbs up her throat. And, in an instinctive response to this new burst of energy, she playfully elbows Catra's side. "It's a pretty nice thought, huh? I'm kinda not over it. I mean, we can go all around Etheria! And then we can go to space," she stretches one arm towards the sky overhead, splattered with stars like an endless watercolor canvas. "We can do anything we want! Doesn't that make you just so-- so--"

She waves her hand around in a series of vigorous yet inarticulate gestures, still clutching the half-eaten fish on a stick between her fingers. At last, she simply slouches back against Catra, concluding with: "--You know?"

"Sure, use the sword. You'll need the help." Catra teases back confidently, that silly little flutter happening in her stomach again as Adora leans into her. She can feel the quiet beginnings of a purr, and out here, just the two of them (and Melog, keeping watch somewhere nearby), lets it happen. Lets herself just watch Adora, her tail brushing the grass in fond sweeps, as she becomes so excited about her freedom. Catra feels it too, that eager anticipation to just go places and do things, but she always has. And she used to think Adora did too, because they used to talk about it. But always in context of the Horde; of war. The places they'd take back from the rebels, the victories they'd secure, the world they'd run. Seeing Adora now, excited to do whatever she actually wants to do...

...it reaches a part of Catra, deeper than she'd known was possible. Makes her feel an unyielding and stubborn surge of defensiveness; the kind that makes her feel stronger, protective. Nobody's going to take this from them, nobody is going to take this from Adora. Catra won't let anyone trap her ever again.

"Of course I know, dummy." At this point, there's no hiding the softness or warmth of her tone. Or the quiet, loving rumble in her chest as she shifts, so there's more of her to lean against than just her arm. She kind of wants to nuzzle into her, but that's still a step too far for Catra; so she settles for bumping her head lightly against Adora's in affection instead, dinner forgotten for the moment. "I think about it all the time. Don't tell me you're only just getting to that now?"

"No, of course not! I mean, obviously I've been thinking it, we've been doing this for a while, it's just-- sometimes I stop and it just catches up with me, that we're really doing this. For real-for real."

Okay, she's babbling, and it's all pretty silly, and Adora can tell from the look on Catra's face that she's going to tease. So she sticks out her tongue and knocks their shoulders together, scolding in advance: "Don't make fun of me."

"Who, me?" Catra teases immediately. "I wasn't going to say anything. But now that you mention it--"

She makes a quick swipe for Adora's bread, yanking it as she stands up and leisurely pivots on her heel, tail risen and curved. Something about all these feelings is just making her feel looser, the giddiness of Adora's mood getting to her like some sort of infection. It happens rather a lot, these days. "--You are kind of slow on the uptake."

And she takes a pointedly large bite of Adora's bread, ignoring her own piece still near where she'd sat, fangs crunching down into the crust and spilling crumbs freely to the ground. Tastes better when it's stolen, anyway.

"-- Catra! You have your own!"

... Which is easily within reach, yes, but who would Adora be if she didn't rise to the challenge? She tears her remaining chunk of fish off its skewer, works on chewing as she rises to her feet-- and she's not quite through when she tackles Catra for her stolen bread, shouting out the demand with her mouth still full: "Gimme that!"

Good thing Catra's so good at biting things, or she might not have managed to chew and swallow down the mouthful of bread before Adora collides with her, knocking her to the ground. As it is, she yelps; scrabbling immediately out from under Adora's weight, kicking indiscriminately as she clutches the stolen bread tightly to her chest.

And all the while she's unable to disguise the laugh in her voice as she presses a hand against Adora's gross face, shoving her away to help Catra's escape efforts.

"No way! It's not even yours!"

Edited 2020-06-28 18:00 (UTC)

"I'm the one who got 'em! It's my bread! And you're squashing it!"

Some bits of fish fly out with Adora's retort-- okay, yes, that's disgusting-- and she finally swallows. Her grip shifts with Catra's struggles, refusing to relent, but Catra's like a little wiggly worm that kicks, and that's always made her a nightmare to pin down for long.

"Give it back before you regret it, Catra," she warns-- and because Catra so obviously won't heed that warning, she doesn't even wait before bringing one hand down to fiercely tickle Catra's side.

It's true, Catra was absolutely not going to heed that warning. If she still wore her old Horde ensemble, the stiff fabrics would have done a bit to protect her sides from Adora's hands. Shame for her, her new clothes are flimsier; and the wriggle of Adora's fingers are clearly felt through it, all of Catra's body seizing and spasming as she yowls in protest, her efforts to escape failing as she instinctively jams both arms down to hug across her stomach in defense.

"--Melog!" She manages to gasp out, squeaky and pitched, fighting back the laughter. She won't give Adora the satisfaction, she won't. It takes all of her mental fortitude to take her arm away from her stomach for the quick second she needs to throw the thoroughly squashed bread in a random direction, but Catra's spite trumps all else. She knows Melog will catch it, and Adora will definitely not be getting the bread back now.

Adora gasps as her bread goes sailing through the air in slow-motion, and Melog leaps up to catch it in their mouth before running off. The sight of it is devastating, even drawing an anguished cry from her lips-- but far deeper ingrained than her love of baked goods are Adora's soldier instincts, and she does not let Catra's moment of vulnerability slip by.

Awful considerate of you to raise your arm like that, Catra. That's all the opening Adora needs to sink the fingers of her other hand into the soft fur of underarm, strengthening her attack twofold. And now that her bread is gone, Adora's out for blood, her fingers swift, merciless, and intimately familiar with all of Catra's weak spots.

"Wow, Catra! Left yourself wide open. Such a bold strategy. How's that working out for you?"

It might be costing her personally, but Catra has won, okay. No victory is ever without its price, and Adora's cry of distress is worth the torture.

Catra's arm jams back down quickly, but it's too late. Adora's fingers are already there, wriggling directly into her fur and against her skin, and Catra jerks violently away from that hand; which only presses her into Adora's other, and there are tears of strain burning in her eyes that Catra cannot keep from blurring her vision as her chest heaves with rapid breaths and her back arches, desperately trying to evade Adora's tickles. Even flinging out her elbows to knock into Adora's arms doesn't get her any reprieve, and a dozen razor-sharp responses slip out of Catra's mind. Adora knows her too well and Catra's ticklish spots did not have the courtesy to diminish in sensitivity in the time they were apart, and that's really just. Unfair.

"Adora!" She manages to get out, though high-pitched and trembling with laughter, her stomach muscles aching. "Cut it out!"

"I don't know, Catra, will it bring back my bread?"

She shouldn't push her luck, Adora knows. But Catra is nothing short of irresistible like this, laughing and squirming and wholly her own. (And she really did want that bread -- though it pales in comparison with each passing moment.)

It's just not a fair request to make of her. How is she supposed to pull her hands away, when Catra's writhing has dragged up her shirt to expose the fluff of her tummy? How can she not slip her fingers right there, rake them greedily through soft fur and quivering flesh?

--But she's not heartless. She'll offer Catra a way out, see. "Say please."

Catra's lungs are aching, her muscles are burning, and she can't see. It's obvious that she needs to surrender, retreat, and regroup. She's done it before, she can pay Adora back for this later. It shouldn't be an issue.

She still rebels at the thought. Saying please, to Adora, sitting so smug and self-assured on top of her?

"Forget it," she chokes out, squirming away, arm tightening further around her stomach and shoving down to block Adora's path. It's bad enough that Adora has access to what she does, and that the tickling's made her so over-sensitive that even the twitch of her own arm is unbearable against the grass. She doesn't need to go letting Adora's hands claim any more territory than they've already won.

Adora lets out a little harrumph, as if she truly expected Catra to yield. Catra's never done anything without a fight. and in this moment, at least, Adora's perfectly content with that. She loves her flushed face, her bitten-back giggles -- how hard she's trying, and how hard she's failing, to keep it together throughout all this.

And her hand's upward path may be blocked, but Adora still has free rein to roam across her favorite stretch of fur, right between Catra's lower stomach and hipbone. She can feel her heart pound with exhilaration as her fingers curl and tease, and she leans down, cooing sweetly: "Are you suuure?"

Adora bends her neck, lower, closer, until her lips are mere inches from Catra's ear. "You only need to say it once, Catra."

And she blows a puff of warm air right into it, for good measure.

Catra has been so good at keeping her claws to herself during all of this, which seems to have been a mistake. Maybe if she'd scratched Adora up a bit, she would have remembered to stay out of biting range.

Normally Catra enjoys Adora's fingers on that part of her body, but the usually favourable sensation is now unbearable, and her hip tries to dart back; only succeeding in her wriggling her back against the ground with a sharp, laugh-tinged gasp. Her ear flickers wildly as Adora speaks near it, even the closeness of her voice enough to make it feel tickled for literally no reason, and then Adora gives it one when that puff of air glances off of it.

The noise that leaves Catra's mouth is not dignified, something like a catch of her breath that hooks on a giggle and somehow then just turns into a weird squeaky whine; but surely Adora won't be remembering much of it anyway, since Catra's reaction - unthinking, instinctual, old habit - is to dart up the small distance, all of the tickling and stimulation too overwhelming, to bite her in a quick and decisive snap of teeth.

Adora's instincts kick in just in time for her to block Catra's lunge with her forearm-- which only succeeds in getting those fangs sunk there instead of her shoulder.

"Gah!"

She closes her eyes against the burst of pain, grits her teeth, then exhales slowly as the initial sting subsides. The attack's achieved its purpose; her hands on Catra have stilled, and Adora holds her unbitten one up too, in a sign of resignation.

"Okay, okay, I earned that one," Adora's smile curls lopsided with the admission, cheeks flushed with self-conscious and leftover adrenaline. She slides her weight off Catra, now offering that raised hand for her to take as she straightens. "Sorry. You okay?"

She's never been so relieved for Adora to stop touching her. Catra's chest heaves as she sucks in a lungful of air, shoulders still shaking with the titter of a laugh as she exhales and curls up in response to the proffered hand. She can not look at Adora's fingers right now without some part of her spasming with leftover tickles.

Adora did deserve the bite, as unconsidered an action as it was, and despite the fatigue setting in Catra's tail lashes against the ground as she looks up to Adora with bright eyes.

As a cadet, she probably would have jumped up from this position to tackle her. But with age comes wisdom and better technique, so she presses her weight up onto an elbow, making as if to rise; and instead Catra swings her legs around to sweep Adora's from under her, using the momentum of the movement to quickly push herself up and onto her.

The end result? A familiar position, Catra's knees jammed into Adora's hip and thigh, both of her hands pushing her shoulders into the ground as her tail waves high and playful behind her.

"Oh, Adora. I'm fine." Even though her voice is rasping and breathy, even though she hasn't fixed her shirt of the mussed fur of her belly. Or, for that matter, any of the dishevelment that comes from wriggling around on the ground. Her hands knead into Adora's shoulders, the press of claws a natural reminder to not try any funny business, and Catra takes her voice's natural inclination to rasp to drop it into a purr as she leans forward, secure in her victory. "You should really be more worried about yourself."

Edited 2020-06-29 14:43 (UTC)

Adora goes down with a yelp, back thudding against the ground. "Catra," she groans, leveling her with a hard glare -- but Catra meets it with that glint to her eye that always makes Adora's stomach flutter, and any further protests die on her tongue. Her body sinks into the grass, yielding.

Adora swallows, then licks her lips-- her mouth is dry but her throat is wet, and a warmth spreads steadily up from her neckline as she takes the sight of Catra in. She's sure the vengeance she's about to set upon her will be nothing short of diabolical, and she'll be begging forgiveness before long. Truly, Adora's in no position to be mooning over her girlfriend right now. But that doesn't change the fact Catra's pretty, breathing ragged, face flushed. Or that her shirt's still riding up, drawing Adora's eyes like a magnet. Or--

Adora's look of silent awe crumbles with a sudden giggle-snort, and the electricity in the air cuts short.

"Sorry, it's just-- you've got leaves in your fur-- let me get that for you." She reaches with one hand, to pluck swiftly at Catra's arm before patting down the bared corner of her stomach. All that rolling in the grass had gotten all sorts of nature-dirt stuck to her, and we can't have that. Just give her a moment...

"Okay, you're good," she announces after a moment, smoothing down the hem of Catra's shirt. "Go on."

What is it that makes people like Adora and Scorpia treat Catra like this? Her ears flatten, and her tail settles down into a dissatisfied flick as Adora fixes her up. She still shifts away from the touch to her stomach with a baring of her teeth, the fur rising up again immediately under Adora's hand in warning, but otherwise lets her go ahead. There's no stopping these people when they're like this, much to Catra's chagrin.

She's in full sulk mode by the time Adora finishes and gives her permission to continue, and Catra's unimpressed scowl slants sideways as she purses her lips. She liked it a lot better a few moments ago, when Adora was red-faced and groaning, her body soft and pliant.

"I almost took out the Rebellion," she feels the need to point out somewhat petulantly, pride bruised. In case Adora's forgotten. Because she's sure not taking her seriously, and Catra's sitting back on her haunches, still perched atop Adora's legs but folding her arms. "I wiped the floor with you like, a million times."

Edited 2020-06-29 15:54 (UTC)

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