"Of course there's a wrong way, there's a wrong way to do everything. Sometimes you get mad at me just for scratching your back upwards instead of down, and this is a way more delicate area than that!" The attempt at reassurance seems to achieve the opposite effect, Adora's features tensing and her voice straining into a squawk as she speaks.
She's not shy, okay? Just wound up, a little high-strung. She can't help it. The words tumble out of her in a frantic rush. "Look, I just don't want to mess this up. And you understand this stuff way better than I do, so you have to help me! You have to tell me how to make you feel good or I'm not gonna..."
But Catra tugs her down as she prattles on, and asks her to kiss her, and-- that's all it takes, just like that, to snap Adora's mouth shut. With the stream of anxious thoughts frozen momentarily in place, Adora can only blurt out a dumb little "okay", before obediently cupping Catra's cheek and pulling her in for a kiss.
Kissing's good. Grounding. Adora likes to think she got the hang of that pretty quick. And when she's focused on Catra's mouth, her full but chapped lips, her warm breath spilling free from between them as they part... her own jitters melt away, so easily. In truth, touching Catra is simply embedded in her nature, always has been; Adora can't remember ever having to think before reaching for her hand, or wrapping her arms around her when they curl up together at night.
Touching Catra and being touched by Catra, exchanging that comfort and thrill and warmth. That's her harbor in the Fright Zone. Be it playfighting, or hugging, or kissing, or more-- Adora loves all of it, wants all of it, and she knows it's the same for Catra, too. Or she wouldn't be so wonderfully malleable underneath her on the roof, releasing soft gasps and hums into her mouth as she rubs, slow and gentle, between her legs.
When Adora thinks about that, it feels a little silly to get nervous. And when they break away for breath, her voice comes out slower and steadier, her eyes newly focused, and her request honest.
no subject
She's not shy, okay? Just wound up, a little high-strung. She can't help it. The words tumble out of her in a frantic rush. "Look, I just don't want to mess this up. And you understand this stuff way better than I do, so you have to help me! You have to tell me how to make you feel good or I'm not gonna..."
But Catra tugs her down as she prattles on, and asks her to kiss her, and-- that's all it takes, just like that, to snap Adora's mouth shut. With the stream of anxious thoughts frozen momentarily in place, Adora can only blurt out a dumb little "okay", before obediently cupping Catra's cheek and pulling her in for a kiss.
Kissing's good. Grounding. Adora likes to think she got the hang of that pretty quick. And when she's focused on Catra's mouth, her full but chapped lips, her warm breath spilling free from between them as they part... her own jitters melt away, so easily. In truth, touching Catra is simply embedded in her nature, always has been; Adora can't remember ever having to think before reaching for her hand, or wrapping her arms around her when they curl up together at night.
Touching Catra and being touched by Catra, exchanging that comfort and thrill and warmth. That's her harbor in the Fright Zone. Be it playfighting, or hugging, or kissing, or more-- Adora loves all of it, wants all of it, and she knows it's the same for Catra, too. Or she wouldn't be so wonderfully malleable underneath her on the roof, releasing soft gasps and hums into her mouth as she rubs, slow and gentle, between her legs.
When Adora thinks about that, it feels a little silly to get nervous. And when they break away for breath, her voice comes out slower and steadier, her eyes newly focused, and her request honest.
"Guide me through this, please?"