Chapter Text
There was a time, not so long ago, when hurting Adora was all you dreamed about.
It was all you wanted in the world under the pretense of simply achieving power, glory, and reign over the crushed bones of all of those who ever dared to stand up against you or had disrespected you in some way.
It was the sweet thought that gave you comfort. The exquisite fantasy which flames kept you warm at night and fuelled your resolve in the moments you were struggling.
Nothing had ever made you feel more powerful than the thought of seeing her broken and anguished, desperate, forced to her knees in defeat and bent over in pain, suffering, having lost everything and everyone she loved.
Heavens...
The mere thought used to send a pang of arousal between your legs each damn time. The euphoria only comparable to the rush of falling ten stories in the air and feeling all your organs flutter and sink with the drop at once.
There was absolutely nothing else that had ever made you relish so deeply in the joy that such sight would have brought to you.
Of course, needless to say, that was before.
Before you found yourself on a Counquerer's ship, with an empty victory and feeling so utterly alone.
Before you did some overdue introspection and realized what was truly feeding those sick, depraved, vengeful fantasies.
Before you had the guts to finally, genuinely admit to yourself how you truly felt about her.
"I'm so, so sorry."
And right now, the sight of her hurting, of seeing her in pain - in knowing that you are the reason for her pain - is so sickening that your head spins with dizziness and your own stomach churns, threatening to empty its contents on the bedsheets, bile rising and burning in the back your throat, already swollen and closed off with the tears pricking in your eyes, which remain fixed, unblinking, horrified on the side of her neck.
The bite is deep.
Your fangs, razor sharp as they are, have done more damage than you thought they were capable of.
Her skin, already so pale and delicate as you know it's always been, is already bruising.
The deep punctures left by your teeth are already swollen red and tender-looking. It's not bleeding, but it still hurts just looking at it. An unsettling sight that is only made that much worse by the realization that you did that.
It all happened in a blur.
And the fact that it did right at the apex of your lovemaking, somehow, has you think that it wasn't coincidental.
Whatever it was that had possessed you to do it though, is now gone. And that's precisely the right word for it. Possessed. Because as soon as you sank your fangs in her pulse point and tasted the sweetly metallic essence of her blood on your tongue, that something inside you that had compelled you to do it, had roared with triumph and then promptly, and rather conveniently, receeded back from the most primal part of your brain where it had first emerged from.
Claim her, you remember that voice thundering in your head with the same urgency of your approaching climax. The compulsion thrumming in your very veins. Boiling deep in your core. Something ancient and primal embedded in your DNA demanding it.
But now...
"Hey, it's not so bad."
"Adora."
"It's okay, really."
She still sounds a bit giddy from the orgasm you just shared, and you kinda feel grateful for that, because you can't imagine her - no matter how strong and brave she might be - having to endure having a chunk of her flesh being torn off her neck like that without the endorphins and adrenaline to at least numbing some of the pain.
"I barely felt it." She admits after a moment of hesitation. Her cheeks flushing into a warmed shade of pink as she reaches up with one hand to feel for the bite. The fact that she winces only slightly when she presses, gently, tentatively, her fingertips there, is not so comforting.
Not comforting at all.
The sight of her suppressing the pain she clearly is in by choking down a whimper and biting down on her lip only has you grind your jaw, shut your eyes, and clench your fists so tightly that the tendons in your forearms stand out even under the layer of fur. Your claws digging into the meat of your palms, the thick callouses of your metacarpal pad providing the only cushioning that is preventing you from actually drawing blood, which is frustrating. Almost infuriating.
You are so lost in stewing in your own anger and shame and guilt that you are only partially aware of the way the bed shifts beneath you as Adora pulls herself up into a sitting position.
In fact, it's only when you feel the softness of her fingers grazing tentatively your knuckles that your eyes snap back open, only to find her- beautiful, stunning, and oh so prettily flushed - smiling that soft little smile of hers that has some of that tension coiling all your muscles melt away.
"I'm okay, Catra." She reassures again, so quietly, so genuinely, still smiling at you that unfairly beautiful smile, that it's hard not to believe her.
But the facts speak much louder. And a lot more accusingly.
"I hurt you." You mumble, voice rough with so many emotions, ears flat against your head. "I didn't mean to."
Your fists tighten further but the hand resting upon your own gently pries them open. With the kind of care that you are utterly undeserving of, and yet, are unable to fight.
"I know." She simply says, far too calm and understanding. "It's okay." She assures, again. "I promise."
That does it.
Your ears twich up and your gaze lifts, tentatively, to meet hers.
She knows how much you value those two little words. And she wouldn't have said them if she didn't mean it.
You take a few moments to search for signs of deceit, for the shadow of a lie lurking in the openness of those deep blue eyes of hers, only allowing yourself to release the breath you have been holding for what felt like a full minute when you find none.
Hard as it still is sometimes, you decide to trust her judgment on this, allowing her to drag you out from the spiraling dark thoughts that were threatening to drown you, and into the safety of her arms.
You would be ashamed for how easily you melt into the embrace if it weren't for how comforting it feels... and how grateful you are.
"I don't know what came over me." You admit in the crook of her neck. And you truly don't, but the fact that Adora pulls away just enough to look at you like she believes you, with such open trust, only serves to make you feel more guilty and mortified by the whole... accident.
Your eyes flit back down to the ugly bruise and teeth marks marring the side of her neck and you almost flinch away, only prevented from recoiling by Adora's arms still wrapped loosely around you.
"It doesn't even hurt anymore." She says, a poor attempt at a lie to which you simply respond with a flat, unimpressed look and an arched eyebrow.
She bristles a bit and sighs in defeat, caught. "Fine. But only a little, I swear. And you know... if seeing it upsets you so much I can just transform and heal myself."
Upon hearing that, the most peculiar thing happens (which is really saying something considering all the weird shit you are subjected to on a daily basis). Because while the suggestion has some of your guilt receed, at the same time, unexplicably so, it elicits a low, really unhappy, really threatening growl and an involuntary twitch in your expression that you don't have to look in the mirror to recognize, way familiar to the feeling of your lips peeling back to expose your fangs in an angry snarl.
And just like that, the moment you realize what you just did, you recoil, throwing yourself off of Adora's loving embrace as if a bucket of icy cold water had just been poured over you.
The movement is so fast and sudden that your legs end up tangled in the sheets, sending you tumbling over the edge of the bed with a squeal in a messy, ungraceful heap of silk and thrown pillows that, unfortunately, don't soften the fall.
Great.
The once dreaded Force Captain, the fearsome second in command to the Horde Lord Himself, the majestic, elegant, dexterous feline, landing on her ass.
Just... wonderful.
"Catra!"
Luckily, Adora appears to be too worried to make fun of your rather undignified landing, scrambling after you and peering down over the edge of the bed.
"Are you okay?!" She almost shrieks, eyes wide, looking so concerned and earnest. Your heart gives such a heavy throb at the sight that it almost hurts as much as your bruised, furry butt.
"Ugh, that was embarrassing." You say, bitter with the humiliation you just suffered.
Adora just shakes her head and reaches out to help you untangle your legs from the sheets.
"Please, have you met me? You'll have to work harder than that to dethrone me from my klutz-of-the-millenium throne." She jokes with that dumb, dorky, half smirk of hers, and again, your heart flutters wildly at her attempt to make you feel better by making fun of herself. A chuckle slips past your lips and she beams, the half smirk stretching into that full, brilliant smile that never fails to make you fall just a little bit deeper in love with her and, right now, even manages to ease some of your own previous worries.
"Are you sure you are okay?" She asks again once you make back it safely back onto the bed, a frown of concern crinkling her brow as she fusses over you. "That looked like it hurt. You didn't land on your tail, did you?"
You swat at her worried hands and scoff, rolling your eyes. Because that's just so Adora. Worrying about others even when she is the one hurt the most.
Instinctively though, you find yourself reaching for the appendage in question anyway, absentmindedly smoothing out the bristled fur there.
"I think my ego was the main casualty." You assure her, rubbing at your bruised butt cheek.
She laughs, and with it another wave of relief washes over you.
It doesn't last long though, for the sight of her throwing her head back in laughter has your eyes zeroing once again on the angry bruise marring the side of her neck.
Another nasty mouthful of bile rises in the back of your throat and you swallow it down. Hard.
It's unsettling.
But the thought of her healing it causes a riot of emotions within you that you lack the energy to sort through at the moment.
Claim her.
You barely manage not to startle at the memory of that voice echoing once more in your head, resembling so very much your own, only deeper. Darker. The feeling attached to it demanding that the mark you left on her stays. That you put it there to be seen. That it is meant to scar and remain permanent.
Good Heavens...
After all the work you have done on yourself... are you still that fucked up?
Is that what all of this was about?
Hurt her and leave a sign on her that the rest of the world will know you have left?
It all seems like a plausible explanation; that last rebellious part of you refusing to accept these new dynamics, this reality you are living in, or some other equally profoud, psychological shit.
And yet...
The more you think on it, the more you consider such thought... the more you have the impression that that wasn't quite the reason why you did it. Which is as relieving a thought as it is deeply confusing. A tangle of feelings far to complex to describe and put into actual words.
"Catra?"
You blink back into focus, being met once again with the sight of Adora assessing you with a curious tilt of her head and a slightly concerned frown on her brow.
"Sorry. Just spaced out a bit." You assure her, flashing her a little smile, hoping that it will be enough to placate her.
Fortunately enough, it is.
Either that, or she decides that it is best not to push you for more.
A small blessing nonetheless.
You are far too exhausted to even try to sort though the thoughts crowding your head right now, so you doubt you would be able to conjure up the strength and clarity of mind necessary to explain her what exactly it is that you are feeling, choosing instead to be hauled further up into the bed and lay down, snuggling back into Adora's loving, forgiving, safe arms when she beckons you in her embrace.
"It's okay." She reassures, patiently, for what feels like the hundredth in the past five minutes.
The closeness helps a great deal in soothing some of that anxiety that had spiked inside you. But that's not surprising. And with the way she starts rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back, sliding her fingers through your fur and scratching just slightly, it is only a matter of time before your brain gets shut off and your diaphram and larinx start vibrating in unison to emit a loud series of purrs.
It must be the cuddling thing, you realize. Because suddenly, you don't feel so crippled by that deadly mix of guilt, shame and apprehension anymore. Just relief and a profound sense of rightness in laying so close together.
Maybe it was nothing.
Just a lust-induced act sprinkled with a bit of possessiveness.
As for Adora being unbothered by the pain itself... Well...
Taking into account all the times you have either fought her, tied her up, pulled her hair, sliced her open with your claws... it's no secret that she's kind of a freak in the matter.
And it's not like you have never enjoyed a bit of pain yourself when mixed with the right amount of pleasure. It just makes things so much more enjoyable and intense.
So, in the coziness of the moment, in this newfound peace, with her constant string of reassurances soothing your doubts and acting like a balm on the deep grooves of your guilt, her arms wrapped safely around you, her hands stroking the fur on your back oh so lovingly, and sleep slowly reaching out to welcome you into its realm, you let the thought slide away.
That, however - the willingness to ignore such a major sign, downsize it, pin it on lust and possibly forget about it - as you will shortly come to realize, is your first mistake.
. . .
You can't exactly pinpoint the moment things change.
As a matter of fact, you don't even think about attributing it to what happened that night.
But things do change. Inevitably so. And faster than you realize.
. . .
You want her.
And yeah, all right, fine, you have always wanted her, true.
But... never like this.
Never so much.
Not with the kind of intensity that has your skin crawl under your fur, your palms sweat and itch, your insides twist and the rest of your body thrum with restless energy that can't be contained.
Now, you just want her all the time.
Like... every second of every minute of every hour of every day.
It would be beyond pathetic if it weren't for the fact that it almost physically hurts.
There are days when being apart from her becomes almost unbearable.
You feel it keenly, as if a part of your body had been taken from you.
The silver lining in this agony that you have started experiencing on a daily basis? The thing that makes you feel less needy and a lot more blessed and fills you to the brim with relief?
Adora feels the exact same way.
Or so she timidly confesses to you whenever she flings herself into your arms as soon as you step out of a meeting, as if you had been apart for months rather than a few hours.
Or the way she greets you with a deep, passionate kiss, that never fails to leave you dumbstruck and breathless, after you return from a half-day-long travel spent helping Scorpia reclaim her kingdom back in the Fright Zone.
The times you have to split up for days in order to perform your respective duties and take care of both political matters and logistics about rebuilding on opposite sides of the planet, are nothing short than excruciating.
But the distance, for how harrowing, it's also what makes the reunion taste that much sweeter. And you more than make up for the time apart when you find yourselves in bed, taking comfort in each other's arms, and seeking pleasure in each other's bodies.
"I've missed you." She whispers to you one night when you are both back in Brightmoon, your limbs intertwined under the sheets, your bodies - sated and aching exquisitely with exertion of previous, rather enjoyable activities - slotting against each other so perfectly that it's hard to discern where you end and Adora begins. "I never want to be apart from you ever again." She says, breathing the words ever so quietly, as if they were a secret. A wish.
And oh... what a wish it would be.
But that's the cost of victory, isn't it?
It's just wishful thinking, you both know it, hoping that you'll never have to leave this little nest of safety. But there is still so much to do, and more often than not your skills are rarely required on the same kingdom.
"Me neither." You tell her, hugging her close to your chest, gazing out the tall window of your bedroom and willing this night to never end.
She hums and shifts in your arms, burying her face in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply.
"Heavens." The shiver that runs through her body revibrates within your own when she says, "You smell so good, Catra."
You scoff.
Listen who's talking. The one who smells as exquisitely as those vanilla dipped fried dough thingy with the hole in the middle that you've tasted at the town festival shortly after your victory over Prime.
Damn, they were delicious. And you remember the smell of it lingering on your clothes for days afterwards.
...huh.
And upon having that thought, your ears swivel up, your eyes widen, and a smile slowly stretches across your face.
"What is it?" She asks propping herself up and eyeing you curiously.
Your smile shifts into a devious little smirk. As simple as it may be..."I think I've got an idea."
. . .
"I know it's not the same thing," You tell her just a few days later when Adora is, yet again, preparing to leave. This time, you'll be the one holding up the fort for the next five days, escorting visiting dignitaries around. "But I believe it may help with... you know." You give a half shrug and scratch self-consciously at the back of your neck, trying not to blush too hard when Adora takes and then nuzzles the shirt you have just offered her. The very same shirt you have been wearing while training and running around and sleeping in for the past two days in a row.
It should be disgusting, really.
But Adora burrows her nose in it, closes her eyes and inhales deeply, as if she were smelling freshly baked bread and ripe strawberries rather than a mixture of sweat and dirt (and a little bit of morning drool, too) all rolled up together.
For a moment there, as you get suddenly struck by how awfully disgusting an idea that was, you start to reconsider what were originally some good intentions, but then...
Then those doubts get completely evaporated into oblivion when Adora opens her eyes again and you see them shining.
She still tries to play it cool though (as do you, holding back a satisfied smirk and willing your excitable tail not to give you away). Neatly folding the shirt and placing it into her dufflebag on top of all her clean, perfectly pressed clothes. She zips it closed and then... she launches herself at you, throwing her arms around your neck and hugging you tight.
"Whoa!" You nearly stumble back at the force of the impact, laughing. "Easy there, oh mighty Princess of Power." You tease her, but you are already taking some mental notes.
Because if this is the thank you you'll get, then you should definitely gift her less dead birds and a lot more dirty laundy.
"I don't have anything to give you, though." She says when she pulls back, pouting, sounding sincerely apologetic and looking oh so disappointed, almost pained at the thought of not being able to reciprocate.
You can't help but grin at her. She is such a sweet idiot.
"You kidding? Your scent is all over the bed. And... I haven't sent your spare workout shorts to be washed yet."
Predictably enough, (hilariouly enough) she blushes brighter than a laser beam and splutters, more embarrassed than reprimanding. "Catra!"
"What?" You fold your arms across your chest and fix her with a seductive, challenging look. You simply refuse to feel embarrassed by what you have been implying. She just... smells delicious after working up a sweat. And she knows it, too, for you've told her. Multiple times.
"You are disgusting." She says, shoving you, but there is still that lovely flush tinging her cheeks and that timid smile curling on her lips. Her eyes crinkled in amusement and shining with affection, so you feel pretty confident when you meet her insult with a shrug and a statement of your own. "You still love me though."
Her eyes grow impossibly soft then.
Like... Gooey soft.
It makes your very heart melt inside your chest and the rest of your body turn into jelly as well when she steps closer, nuzzles your nose and whispers against your lips, "I do."
Neither of you seem to care about obligations and time restrictions when one kiss leads to another.
And then another.
And another.
And another, followed by roaming hands already busy working on taking clothes off of each other.
You may scar a noisy Swift Wind for life though when he, impatient as he is to get going, for some reason decides that it's safe to fly by your bedroom window to see: "What's the hold up, She-R-AHHHH!!!! My eyes!!"
But really, that's his fucking fault.
Also. So dramatic.
He's already used to having Adora's ass on his back.
So what if he saw it naked, up in the air?
In your opinion, it's a damn fine piece of ass.
. . .
You stumble through the seemingly endless, darkened hallways of the Palace on your way back to your chambers, trying to right one another, giggling all the while and sneaking in a shadowed alcove to exchange heated kisses whenever you come across one. (Which, in your opinion, are far too rare, especially considering how marvelous Adora's lips feel against your neck, where they are keen to keep latching on).
The harvest festival was fun.
All the lights, the food, the music, the dancing...
...and those frizzy, fruity drinks you had, have contributed in making you delightfully cheery and a lot touchy.
Adora, too. (And she only had one. The lightweight.) Although she is feeling more tonguey than touchy right now.
You tell her as much and she snorts, throwing her head back in laughter, her hair falling down her back like a curtain made of spun gold. Her blue eyes crinkled so prettily at the corners. But what gains your full attention and holds it in a steely grip that also tightens even more viciously around your insides, is the sight of the white, scarred little punctures showing oh so proudly on the side of her neck.
For how breathtakingly stunning she looks in her silky white and gold dress, she wears your mark even more beautifully.
Something inside you preens at the sight of it, your blood roaring in your veins, feeding the flames of arousal already ignited in your belly.
Flames that grow into a full roaring fire the moment Adora tilts her head down and meets your gaze once more, her still smiling, earnest eyes so very, very blue. Darkening even further the moment she sees you looking at her like that, with a mixture of awe and pure, unadulterated desire.
There is no saying who kisses who first this time, and honestly, it's of little importance. As it becomes everything else in the world the moment your mouths touch, your lips part, and your tongues meet in a deep, warm embrace.
The so-called battle for dominance is more like a half hearted sparring match focused on the elegance of the steps taken rather than brute, careless force, making it all the more enjoyable.
Your heart gives a painfully hard throb and your core clenches on itself, in a way it never fails to do in these circumstances.
She pulls back first, but only to sink her teeth on your lower lip, and the sharp, exquisite sting of pain tears a low, guttural growl from deep within your chest.
A sound so primal that has Adora moan in your mouth and shiver in your arms. Her body - which your hands itch to explore without clothing in the way - arches encouragingly into your touch, and that's all it takes to fuel you with enough strength to pick her up and stride, without breaking off your kiss for a second, towards your chambers.
Far more alert than you were but a minute ago, you are extremely careful in not bumping her against the furniture once you get inside, using your slightly impaired yet still heightened senses to orient in the dark. Luckily, you make it to the bed without incidents, and once you settle her down on the mattress, Adora all but pulls you on top of her. Another fit of giggles follows suit as you land on top of her, only interrupted when you pull back enough to look at her, because the moment you do, you are left breathless.
The moons are high in the sky, shining through the tall windows, casting long shadows all around and illuminating her face and her hair, fanning onto the sheets, in the most ethereal light.
You gasp.
Your heart stuttering to an halt in your chest at the sight of her, so painfully beautiful and looking up at you with such love and desire.
"You are so beautiful." The words just spill from your lips, a truth that cannot be contained. One of your hands reaching up to trace the contours of her face, mindful of your claws. There is awe in your voice, but also a tinge of the same arousal that is licking hotly at your insides.
For the entire night you have been feeling this... this coil tightening in your lower belly. A gnawing pressure building and swelling and aching. Not an unfamiliar sensation for sure, but the intensity with which you have been experiencing it lately has been quite... distracting.
Maybe it was the drinks.
Adora smiles at you. But it's not that timid, sheepish, flustered smile of hers.
This one is heated, paired with pearly white teeth chewing on her lower lip seductively and... and...
With a hand sneaking onto the back of your neck, she decides to forgo words altogether and simply pull you down and into another deep kiss. Effectively interrupting your train of thoughts and directing all your attention on the pressure pulsing in your core, centering between your legs when she wraps hers around your waist, urging your hips together.
Reflexively, you grind against her and she moans, long and deep and unbidden in your mouth.
You do it again, enslaved by that urge, by that pressure seeking an outlet, and in response, Adora rolls hers up to meet you.
Bracing your weight on your elbows at the sides of her head, you slot even more comfortably between her legs and, together, pick up a rhythm that has you swallow each other's moans and groans of pleasure.
Fuck...
You are so worked up already.
And she feels so. fucking. Good.
Your head is spinning and your skin is burning under your fur and clothes, which feel utterly unnecessary right now and far too restrictive. Adora must feel the same way about them because her hands slide from your back to the front of your shirt, unfastening the buttons with shaky fingers. You pull back just enough to discard it once she has finished, but it's your pants that are making you the most uncomfortable right now.
That tight, awful pressure that has been coiling in your lower belly and has settled between your thighs has become simply unbearable.
On top of that, it's becoming increasingly difficult to think with the haze of lust that is slowly taking over your mind, plaguing your every thought with a string of images depicting some lewd, mindless, instinctual acts, and... you don't think you have ever felt so needy and achy in your entire life.
Your inner walls pulse. Your clit swells and throbs, painfully so, seeking friction. Release.
"A-adora..." You stutter when her hands go for your belt next. Yes! A voice cheers in your head as you pull away from her and sit back on your haunches to give her more manouvering space, all while helping her peeling off her dress, careful not to accidentally tear it with your claws (for it looks far too lovely on her to be permanently damaged).
The belt is discarded, landing with a satisfying metallic clank on the floor just as Adora lifts her dress off the rest of the way with one hand and pops open the button at the front of your pants with the other. The moan of relief that falls from your lips upon feeling slightly less constricted is absolutely obscene, but the last thing you care to feel after releasing such noise, is embarrassment.
As a matter of fact you don't even dare to question the reason why it feels like such a blessing having a couple more inches of breathing room. Nor does Adora. At least until she tugs at the waistband of your pants.
You have been feeling so delightfully dizzy, your skin prickling, your fur fluffed, every sense you possess heightened. Your mouth watering with anticipation and the intoxicating scent of Adora's arousal filling the air, fueling your own excitement.
So really, it's remarkable that you are even capable of breathing right now considering the overload of stimulus you are receiving from all sides, so posing yourself questions like why some parts of your body feel exceptionally more sensitive right now, seems like a colossal waste of time.
But then again, maybe you should have spared a couple of brain cells and given the thought a bit more priority over the lust burning away in your veins.
Because as soon as your trousers are lowered past your hips you realize that something is, indeed, very, very wrong.
As the fabric drags down the top of your thighs, in fact, something bounces free and slaps, noisily, against your lower belly.
Your gaze snaps downwards, startled.
You blink.
It takes a moment or two to put into focus and fully comprehend what you are actually seeing though.
But when you do, you are so taken aback by the sight of the thick, heavy, pounding shaft standing erect between your legs that you shriek and jump an impressive six feet in the air, not so differently than you did that time when Entrapta, the asshole, sneaked a cucumber beside you while you weren't looking. ("For science!" You remember her saying. It was pure fucking revenge, that's what, a part of you growled).
Good thing that the celings of Bright Moon Royal Palace are way higher than that or you would have no doubt knocked yourself unconscious, both back then and right now.
Or maybe you already have, you consider as you land back into the bed, heart racing a lightyear a minute, and stare, wide eyed, in utter disbelief and gaping in absolute horror at the... the thing poking out of a furry sheat from your mound. A wide, flared, pink tip pointing straight up to rest against your navel. Leaking.
The sight sobers you up in an instant and you do a double take.
There also may be another squeal. Whether it came from you or Adora this time, however, barely seem a detail worthy of importance given the circumstances.
Because really.
What. The actual. FUCK?!?
"Catra, w-what... is that?" From her. The shriek came from her you realize, given the uncharacteristic shrill in her voice. But beside the initial yelp of surprise, she seems to be taking this much more calmly than you are, albeit still profoundly confused and more than a little concerned, or so that's how her slightly shaky voice sounds like to your ears. Although, you might be mistaken. What with your head spinning like it is and the incessant pounding of your own heart threatening to burst out of your chest it's difficult to focus. Not to mention the other, equally distracting pounding you are currently experiencing.
"I-... I-I don't..." Your mouth opens and closes a few more times but no sound comes out. Nor air comes in. Your throat closes off, contributing to your increasing dizziness.
"Catra breathe!" Adora sounds so distant as she shakes you and gives you that command, which you don't listen to. You can't.
And so, instead, gripped by an overwhelming sense of anxiety and fear (and just the right amount of nausea) you do another, different, far more mature and very adult-like thing.
With your pants still lowered to your mid-thigh, you bolt from the bed on all four and scamper off into the bathroom, locking yourself inside.
"Catra!"
Under the loud sound of your thundering, widly racing heart, you can hear Adora stumbling out of the bed in between curses and chasing after you.
"Catra! Wait!" She calls, alarmed, knocking urgently on the door just a few moment later and almost making you jump out of your fur. "Open up!"
"No fucking way!"
"Catra!"
"I'm not coming out!"
Your hands are shaking horribly. Your knees have turned to jelly, and your heart feels like it's about to implode on itself. So you consider it pretty close to a miracle, really, the fact that you manage not only to remember how to breathe, but also how to push the words through the panic swelling in your chest and lodging in your throat, making you tremble all over with cold sweat.
Tears well up in your eyes.
What is happening to me?
Just like when you were a scared little cub hiding away in a dark corner, you find yourself sliding down the door and drawing your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms and tail tightly around them, all while trying to ignore the hard, heavy shaft throbbing insistently between your legs and pressing against your stomach.
It's so uncomfortable that you don't know if the slight nausea that you are feeling is due to that, the general shock of what-the-fuck-is-happening, or... or the fact that you may feel a bit disgusted by your own body right now. Because, for how alien the sight of that... thing... is to you, the sensations attached to it are so very, very familiar. Unmistakably so.
"Catra." Adora calls once again from outside, her voice coming out softer, and sounding much closer, as if she herself might be crunching down against the door, and hearing that tone in her voice, paired with how confused and overwhelmed you are feeling right now, is enough for those tears that have pooled in your eyes to start falling once you squeeze them shut.
"Go away Adora!" You yell, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself and burying your face between your bent knees, breathing through your mouth as to not inhale the sharp, musky smell that you recognize as a more pungent, heavier brew of your own arousal.
It's a default mechanism at this point; pushing her away when you need her the most.
You thought you were over it.
You thought you had gotten better at this.
You thought you could do and be better.
Apparently, you haven't. And you can't.
"Catra, please." Her voice is so impossibly soft, pleading, and the muffling of the closed door certainly doesn't prevent your sensitive hearing from picking up the fear in that plea. It makes your heart ache, a part of you so desperate to reach out, longing to console her, but... you can barely keep yourself together right now. So what good could you possibly be to her when you are falling apart like this?
"Leave me alone, Adora." You repeat, but this time the order lacks its previous bite. As a matter of fact, your voice sounds defeated to your own ears, pitiful really, and that must be the reason why you are not even a bit surprised when, in response to it, you receive a firm, definitive,
"No."
"Adora..." You beg, a sob tearing out of your throat without your consent.
But that only seems to fill her with even more determination.
"I'm not going anywhere." She states, unyelding. Fiercely.
And then, after a beat, softer, so softly it hurts... "I'm right here."
You can picture, behind your closed eyelids, with a startling crystal clarity, the way she is pressing her hand against the doorframe as if reaching out for you.
Your resolution crumbles, but some of your hesitation is still standing strong, because for the first time in a long time you are just so-
"I'm scared." You admit, quietly. So quietly and shakily that when you are only met with silence you start to think that she might not have heard you. But then...
"I know." She answers. Just as softly. "I know you are, baby. I don't know what is going on, but... I'm here."
Heavens...
She is, isn't she?
She didn't run away, scared, disgusted, repulsed upon seeing-- tentatively, you ease your limbs just enough for you to glance down and... instantly tearing your gaze away, shutting your eyes and swallowing hard.
"Catra?"
Once again, her voice guides you back from your spiralling thoughts, and you cling into it like a lifeline while fighting off another bout of nausea.
She is right here, you repeat to yourself.
She loves you, another voice assures you. Reminds you.
"Can you please let me in?"
You think about it for only another handful of moments before reaching up with a shaking hand to turn the key, unlocking the door with a quiet click.
The knob turns ever so slightly but a moment later as she opens it, slowly. You remain on your spot, still drawn tight into yourself, barely daring to breathe as she slips through the gap of the door.
"Hey baby." She greets you, and you can hear the affectionate smile in her voice, just like you can hear the softness of her steps as she quietly approaches you, as if a sudden movement could spook you. In this state, it very much could, but it hardly matters. You have run yourself into a corner by coming here in the first place.
"H-hey Adora." You greet her back, but without even an ounce of your usual cocky playfulness, and the smirk you try to flash her is reduced to a tremulous twich by the fresh tears welling in your eyes.
Almost reflexively so, Adora's own instantly fill up, too.
"Oh, kitten." She whispers, and while you usually would throw her a nasty snarl and be generally put off if not straight out furious by the use of the pet name, this time you can't help but fling yourself in her arms when she crunches down next to you.
She welcomes you with warmth and more love than you feel you'll ever deserve. More than you are worthy of.
"It's okay. I got you, baby." She assures, stroking your back as you choke down your sobs in the crook of her neck.
"I got you." She repeats, carding her fingers through your mane, lightly scratching at the scalp in that way that never fails to soothe you.
Even now.
If you weren't so distraught, you would probably purr.
You spend a minute, maybe more, with your face buried in her neck like that, simply inhaling her scent, focusing on it, on its many layers, willing it to ease your jumbled thoughts.
And who knows, maybe it's because you have always associated it with safety and home, especially lately, but it really seems to be having a soothing effect on your frazzled nerves.
"There you go. Good girl." She praises upon feeling you relax in her arms, and you whimper, sucking in a sharp breath of air through your teeth.
"That's it, deep breaths." She instructs again, and this time you listen, and slowly, but surely, with calm, measured breaths, your heartbeat starts slowing down, too. Settling within a far more acceptable range.
With it, the panic receeds, and the rest of your body stops shaking as much. Even your fur smooths back from where it was still bristled.
"Feeling a bit better?"
Taking in these signs, Adora must decide that it's safe for her to ask a few, tentative (and fortunately) unspecific questions.
"Does it hurt? Do you want me to take a look?"
It does. You think, although it's not exactly pain what you are feeling right now, rather a deep, uncomfortable pressure gnawing at your core. Like an elastic band stretched to its limit, ready to snap. But you lack the eloquence at the moment to properly explain the details to her, not to mention the willingness to do it. And so, you limit yourself to shake your head in negative at her kind, considerate, albeit still terrifying offer.
"Okay." She nods, and you are so grateful to hear the understanding in her voice that you almost burst out crying all over again. "Okay. I won't do anything you don't feel comfortable with. We'll just wait a little until it passes, okay love?"
You don't know if it's going to pass, but you find yourself whimpering in affermative anyway, which, luckily, seems to be enough to reassure her.
"Okay then." She repeats, and with that, you become aware of her own body relaxing against yours with her next exhale, which seems to encourage your own muscles to lose some of their tension as well.
It's... hard to explain.
But also so very, very simple.
On an instictual, primal level.
Her presence, her nearness, her scent above it all, seem to quiet that same something inside you. That wild, feral, hungry part of you that had awakened and has been growling with need this entire time, ever since that first night.
You are far too grateful to feel even just a smidgen of relief that you don't dare question it though. Just relish in the sense of safety that her closeness brings.
She hasn't bothered putting on a shirt when she ran after you, so she is still only wearing her underwear, her bare skin being in direct contact with your fur, and since humans run at a lower temperature than yours, the slight coolness feels nice. Almost a relief.
Instinctively, you find yourself snuggling closer to her and inhaling deeply.
Heavens.
Your stomach clenches on itself with a pang of longing.
Has she always smelled this good?
Your mouth waters some more and you find yourself having to swallow down a growl as the shaft between your legs grows even harder, giving a heavy, needy throb, pulsing and aching with pressure.
Trying to ignore it is pretty near impossible, but something about her scent, about the way she holds you, has a way to keep your worries at bay.
Up until Adora makes a tentative, yet midly alarmed observation.
"Catra, sweetie... you are burning up."
You haven't been feeling great, that's for sure. But if a fever is what she is suggesting... You frown.
Now that you think about it, the pads of your hands and feet have been feeling a tad clammy tonight, you are feeling sweaty and nauseaus, although it doesn't seem so different than how you remember feeling the few times you got caught in the clutches of a panic attack. So now that Adora mentions it with such tentativeness, it occurs to you that it could be because you might be actually, truly sick.
The thought startles you and urges you to make yourself even smaller in her arms, wrapping your limbs even tighter around yourself.
"Adora... what is happening to me?" You ask - as if she clearly wasn't as lost and confused by all of this as you are - in such a small, pathetic voice that you can hardly recognize as your own.
"I don't know baby." She admits, sounding so deeply apologetic, almost pained for not being able to provide you with a satisfying answer. "But I'm here with you, okay? You are not alone. I'm here. We are going to find out together, okay?"
You start trembling all over in a cold sweat when you answer her with the most vulnerable question of all.
"You promise?"
You try not to think about the tears that you can hear in her voice and instead focus and draw strength in the determination and commitment of the vow that she makes to you when she answers, craddling you close to her chest and pressing a kiss to your wild, untamable mane.
"I swear it."