adora (
destinybound) wrote in
boxitup2020-07-04 09:12 pm
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Entry tags:
- acct:destinybound,
- acct:morethanadistraction,
- adora is a bully and a jerk,
- adora is a smug jerk,
- adora is the biggest bully forever,
- adora's bully level at 80%,
- adora's ego needs its own tag,
- angry kitty go brrrr,
- catra is a bully and a jerk,
- catra pretends to be a top,
- fluff,
- my god they were bunkmates,
- pre-series
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It's supposed to be a secret, Catra's made that much clear. And Adora gets it, of course! Totally gets it. It's not like she'd want to tell anyone about Catra grinding down against her the night before, her hip between her thighs, her hand on her breast, her teeth on her neck. That's-- that's just between the two of them.
But the fact that it's just between the two of them makes it all the more exciting, and Adora's been having a terrible time keeping a lid on her giggly energy all throughout the day. She's accumulated at least six counts of stop it, idiot from Catra by the end of dinner, just because she can't hold back her grin whenever they lock eyes, or when they touch.
Like in their afternoon sparring session, when Catra'd knocked her over and pinned her to the ground, and Adora's heart fluttered right up to her throat and all she could do was laugh and Catra blushed and that's. Definitely not acceptable cadet behavior, she gets that.
But she just can't help herself.
She makes her way through dinner in record time, practically buzzing in her seat in anticipation for the day's end. And just as soon as the two of them have finished eating, she latches onto Catra's side, bumping their shoulders and elbows together with a broad, eager smile.
"Hey. Hey. Hey. Race you to the rooftop."
But the fact that it's just between the two of them makes it all the more exciting, and Adora's been having a terrible time keeping a lid on her giggly energy all throughout the day. She's accumulated at least six counts of stop it, idiot from Catra by the end of dinner, just because she can't hold back her grin whenever they lock eyes, or when they touch.
Like in their afternoon sparring session, when Catra'd knocked her over and pinned her to the ground, and Adora's heart fluttered right up to her throat and all she could do was laugh and Catra blushed and that's. Definitely not acceptable cadet behavior, she gets that.
But she just can't help herself.
She makes her way through dinner in record time, practically buzzing in her seat in anticipation for the day's end. And just as soon as the two of them have finished eating, she latches onto Catra's side, bumping their shoulders and elbows together with a broad, eager smile.
"Hey. Hey. Hey. Race you to the rooftop."
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She wonders if Adora's finally feeling the pounding as they dodge each-other and clash their staves together. If when Catra knocks hers from her hands and lets her own go flying after it, she also feels that coil of excitement.
She definitely feels something when Catra pounces on her to claim her victory, her palms on Adora's shoulders and her knees on either side of her legs. The heave of their chests sounds so loud in the echoing chamber of the training room, and Catra's world narrows down to just Adora beneath her on the dark floor. That familiar pulse of heat tightens between her thighs again, and she watches Adora's lips part in slow-motion, as if for Catra to press the blanket between them--
--Then her laughter breaks the spell, and Catra shoves off of her as a hot blush blooms on her face, pounding on her chestplate hard to mark her as Eliminated and snapping at her to shut up for like, the billionth time that day. Honestly, it's like Adora wants people to get suspicious.
And it's like that all through dinner too, though Catra is the one who knocks Adora's knee with her own under the table, and it is the curve of Catra's tail that brushes the back of Adora's neck when Catra slides into the seat next to her. Adora just really can not keep anything on the low-down. It's a good thing that they have such a history of mischief together, or someone might've been more inclined to question her weird behavior.
So Catra still crows out a burst of laughter when Adora asks her to race to the rooftop, which is not even a competition.
"You wanna lose again already?" She taunts, shoving her shoulder back into Adora's and cramming the last of the brown bar into her mouth. Someone's arm around a shoulder had turned into a headlock had turned into wrestling in the corridor on their way here, and they'd wound up too late to grab any of the grey ones. But not even the gritty taste of disappointment had dampened Adora's, and therefore Catra's, mood. "I'll give you a head start," she says; but it's muffled around the crumbs of the ration bar as she talks through the mouthful, only the scrunch of her eyes and her mocking tone making it through clearly.
Then Catra proceeds to do the exact opposite of giving Adora a head start, instead putting her hand on her shoulder to keep her down while Catra stands on her chair. She's too quick for the soldiers on duty to scold, and has already hopped over Adora's head and bolted out the door before any of them take more than a few steps to stop her.
So what, she's a bit of a liar. Cheating is what makes it fun.
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Adora doesn't even have it in her to sound mad, heart already kicking up its pace, grin wide with the challenge. She just narrowly avoids knocking over her chair as she rushes towards the exit, makes sure to salute their supervisors on her way-- but once she's out of the dining area, all bets are off.
She follows Catra through the green-lit corridors, scrabbling across metal and concrete. Catra has taken to the pipes overhead, as she always does -- and when her legs dangle down in preparation to jump onto the next pipe, Adora takes a great leap, latching onto her thighs with both arms. "Gotcha!"
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Even though her screech and fluffed fur as she's dragged down clearly say otherwise.
"Ugh, you're such a cheater!" Her legs kick hard against Adora's stomach, and Catra scrabbles quickly forward to try to gain enough space to shove her foot in Adora's face and push her back further. "It's not my fault you're so slow!"
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"Hah! I'll show you slow!"
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Lucky for both of them, Adora's fast enough to get away before that happens. And she manages to gain quite a lead while Catra grabs her foot and pulls it to her face, rocking up to sit as she does so. She's not bleeding - good, Adora's dull teeth are so pathetic it was an unlikely possibility anyway - but it tingles painfully when she flexes it.
Argh.
"Adora!"
Her howl reverberates off the metal walls, and Catra's not at all happy about the ache in her foot when she leaps back onto the pipes. But it doesn't slow her; if anything, her irritation makes her faster as she races on all fours, just so she can jump off with a shout and pounce on Adora's back as she nears the doors.
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"Nice try," she smugly huffs out, and leaps for the door.
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"Hands off, I'm gonna do it!" she argues quickly, anticipating a squabble as she shoves the side of her body roughly into Adora's to force her away. She will be the fastest at jamming in the code, and she will be the first one onto the roof, and then Catra will lord it over Adora for the rest of the day just like she deserves after biting Catra's foot.
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It's a weird place to be fighting over whether she's hitting the showers, but that must be what everyone assumes is happening when she lets loose a sharp cry and jerks her elbow back into Adora's side, her ear flicking wildly against the bite. Her tail and spine stiffen, the press of Adora's chest and stomach against Catra's back suddenly incredibly present, and Catra can't ignore the strength of her arms around her waist or the sudden surge of arousal that flares hot and demanding.
The appropriate thing to do about it is, of course, tear her head down to chomp on Adora's arm. That's what she gets for bringing teeth into this.
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It hurts-- Catra's teeth are sharper, that's not fair-- but after the initial prickle of pain, Adora's at least able to use her unbitten hand to punch the code in. She yanks herself free then, scuttling into the opened stairwell, the pound of her boots echoing off the metal walls as she takes the stairs two at a time.
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"Is it just me, or are you getting slower?" Her goading echoes through the full length of the stairwell, as does the screech of her claws on metal when she skids to a stop.
Catra could continue to the roof and wait there by herself, but that would be boring. Instead she stops on a landing with flickering lights and a half-dozen empty crates and tucks herself between them, crouching low and hidden, her tail swishing in quick sweeps behind her as she listens to Adora's feet pounding on the stairs. Catra's hands flex on the floor, her feet shift in anticipation, her body buzzes with energy; and when the stamp of Adora's feet becomes unbearably loud Catra's breathing quietens and slows to shallow, predatory stillness as her eyes narrow in focus. As soon as Adora appears, she'll pounce; wrapping her arms around her legs and yanking her into the pile of crates to disorient her.
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"Gah!"
She's knocked down onto the pile of crates before her brain can even register what's happening, landing face-down onto them with a startled groan and a great clattering noise all around.
Grunting in frustration, she pushes herself up on her arms, twists around to level Catra with a hard glare--
"It's a race, Catra, not an ambush!"
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She pauses on the first step, turning her head to look over her shoulder at Adora with a smirk, that warm bubbly feeling that Adora often incites in her fluttering in her chest and curling in her stomach. Beating Adora always feels different to beating anyone else, and Catra doesn't know why. It just is. And she has beaten her; it's obvious, given how close the roof is to them. "Hurry up, I've seen trashed bots move faster than you."
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It's only once they're both outside, in the warm, dense air of the Fright Zone, under the light of the moons, that Adora speaks up: "Joke's on you," she says. "You walked right into my trap."
And before Catra has a chance to react, she tackles her full-on, knocking her onto the ground and landing on top: hands pressed into Catra's shoulders and hips locked around her waist. And she grins, ear to ear, leaning close--
"Hey, Catra."
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Oh, fine. She'll let Adora have this one, but Catra's folding her arms and her ears are turning down in disapproval. Her tail's the one that gives her away this time, flicking by her leg in interest at the warm press of Adora's body, her blood firing up as she breathes instinctively deep to try to smell her over the gross stink of the Fright Zone's forges.
It's easier when Adora leans close, and Adora doesn't smell clean like she did last night. Now she's musky with sweat from training and their race, the undertone of an unfamiliar tang laying close to her skin, and Catra gets so distracted by smelling her best friend like a total moron that she starts when Adora's voice sounds too close to her now-flicking ear, her hands shooting up to shove at her chest--
--one of her palms lands on the upper curve of Adora's breast, and Catra pauses there for a split second while her intentions rapidly shift course.
They're on the roof. Nobody else has ever come up here. They know from experience in trying to shout at each-other from it that it's near-impossible to hear anything over the loud machinery and pounding from the forge.
Catra's lips twitch into a smirk instead, her hands slipping to cup those curves just the way Adora'd let her the night before. If she's lucky, maybe she'll be able to convince Adora into some repeat activities instead of sitting next to her and imagining doing them like she normally does.
"Hey, Adora." She purrs back, eyelids falling half-closed. Her tail flicks again, higher this time, brushing Adora's thigh. If she gets shot down, she can still pretend she was just doing it to throw her off. "So when're we gonna run into this trap of yours? I'm looking forward to seeing what dumb plan you managed to think up without me."
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Underneath their joint hands, she can feel her heart pounding, faster than it did even during their race. She wonders if Catra can feel it, too, and the thought quickens her heart's pace even further.
The sweep of fur against her leg has her toes curling, and she shifts on top of Catra to escape her tail's reach, knees tightening around her stomach with the motion. Between Catra's husky voice and low-lidded eyes, it's hard not to guess exactly what she's thinking, which is-- well-- good, but also makes the reveal a lot less seductive than Adora had planned out in her head.
"No, uh-- I think you've pretty much got it," she admits sheepishly, grin slanting sideways as her cheeks rapidly gain color. "This was the plan."
And, just to drive it home, she leans down and touches her lips to Catra's cheek, the way she did the night before. She likes this, she's decided. She's going to do it lots more.
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But it is so, so relieving to feel Adora's heart hammering as fast as Catra's is. Equally good is Adora's hand holding Catra's in place on her chest, which is permission as far as Catra is concerned, to drag her thumbs lightly up to where she remembers the hard bump of a nipple having been; and to press them in there on each breast, enjoying the soft give as she moves her thumbs back down. And then squeezes her hands, because -- seriously? They're kind of squishy, even through Adora's shirt and underwear, and they feel good in Catra's hands. She didn't get to feel them both like this last night, and Catra gives them another squeeze as her tail flicks up again to brush down the back of Adora's thigh.
"Is this why you've been acting so stupid all day?" --Oh, wow, Catra's voice just. Found new depths to lower to, deep and silky ones, and she decides to lean into it rather than clear her throat to correct it. Swallows still as she turns her head, wetting her lips, to inhale deeply right at the curve of Adora's neck and jaw. The smell of her doesn't have any right to affect Catra the way it does, stirring familiar pressure below her stomach, but then neither does the warmth she feels from Adora's knees pressing against her sides. "You just couldn't wait to do it again, could you."
Yeah, she's proud. Who wouldn't be? Two days ago Adora was such a prude she'd practically had a stroke at the thought of touching herself, and now she's brought Catra up here specifically for that purpose. Talk about an achievement.
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Oh, man.
She really wants this.
Catra's breath, her voice -- wow, she did not know her voice could sound like that -- wash over her ear, making her shiver. Adora knows Catra's teasing, but she's unabashed in her reply anyway: "Yeah," she answers frankly, eyes bright. "I really, really liked it."
Her hands drop to Catra's own breasts, mirroring the squeeze--
"I want you to teach me more."
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"I knew you wouldn't be able to get enough of it," she boasts. And neither can Catra, her heart leaping in excitement as Adora's hands settle on her chest and squeeze. It's all that she needs to feel a pulse of heat between her legs, and ugh, she wishes Adora hadn't gone up onto her knees instead of sitting low on Catra's hips. Still, her smirk widens when she drags her thumbs up again. This time, there are noticeably hardened bumps beneath Adora's clothes; and Catra shifts both of her hands so that she can rub them between the sides of her thumbs and forefingers, almost the same as the night before. "You have no idea how long I've been trying to get you to do this stuff."
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"You know me so well," she readily agrees, a slight hitch in her breath at the new attention to her nipples. She quickly adjusts her hands to mimic the movements -- because she's learning, still, and she wants to get this right.
But Catra's next words give her pause, make her sit up a little straighter. "You have?" she asks, brow crinkling. "But you never said anything."
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What she can work with less is when Adora sits straighter and frowns, and Catra's lips push into an upset tilt automatically as her purr cuts off. It's kind of just habit, when Adora frowns at her, to be petulant in response. Totally unnecessary right now too, since all Catra needs to do is scrape the edges of her nails across Adora's nipples to change the expression on her face, breathing in a shudder as the returned action sparks pleasure that clenches Catra's thighs together.
"Uh, no. I said plenty of things." Catra's nose wrinkles and she raises an eyebrow in disbelief, turning her hands so that the stiffened bumps are under her palms, lifting her hands to graze across them in circles as her fingers press into the curve of each breast. Adora's feel so different to hers, but the reaction should be about the same, right? It feels good, just enough pressure to feel the coarse drag of fabric, and Catra's tail lifts again in an insistent flick. "For like, ages now. Didn't realize I had to spell it out for you to get it through your thick skull."
She lifts one hand from Adora's chest, instantly missing the feel of her beneath her palm, to tap a finger against Adora's forehead in accompaniment to her teasing words. Despite the habitual sulky expression, Catra's eyes remain warm with affection, and her lips turn back up into a grin before long.
"There's some other stuff I've seen going around." Her tone turns eager, the way it does when she's about to convince Adora to get into trouble with her, and both of Catra's eyebrows rise in expectation. She knows what Adora's answer is; it's the same as it's always been. "Wanna try it out?"
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She swats that finger away from her forehead, because there are so many better parts of her it can be touching right now, were Catra to stop being a jerk. Her disgruntlement can't survive long, however, faced with that glint in Catra's eyes-- the kind that promises risk, but excitement too. Adora's never been able to resist, when she looks at her like that.
"Okay," she says, leaning back in with narrowed eyes and bated breath. "Show me."
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"Some of it's gonna sound weird, but just go with it. Alright?" Catra's breathless, somehow, her voice rasping; but the bright and eager light in her eyes hasn't dimmed at all, and she returns her finger to flick at Adora's nose before sliding her hand to cup her jaw, her fingers curling by her ear. For some reason, doing it makes Catra's heart pound faster, anticipation fluttering in her stomach. She's thought about this way more than makes sense to, thought about catching glimpses of soldiers trading quick presses of their lips as greetings and farewells and in the middle of whispered conversations, thought about the smiles and flushed cheeks they often have afterwards. The thought of seeing that look on Adora makes her chest feel full and she. Wants that. Wants that sort of dopey, soft look to be directed at her. "Don't go flaking or freaking out on me again."
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"Just show me already!"
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There should be an - angle, or something, to do this at. Catra knows the soldiers tilt their heads, so she does the same; eyes dropping to slits to watch Adora's reaction as she presses her lips to hers, and then letting her eyelids fall completely closed because it's. Not mind-blowing, certainly nothing worthy of the enthusiastic moans and groans some of the soldiers come out with, but it's nice. Nice to breathe in and smell Adora, nice to feel a light tingle when Catra moves her lips against Adora's, and just. Nice. Catra could definitely do this more often.
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