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She-ra-nanigans

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“Adorrrrra,” Catra purrs, clinging to Adora’s side.

Adora’s been drifting in that liminal space between asleep and awake, comfortable and warm in bed with Catra curled in her arms. Adora brings up a hand and scritches the back of Catra’s neck where the brown, brindled hair is growing steadily longer. Glimmer’s been shaping it as it grows so that Catra doesn’t look ridiculously fluffy like she did as a kitten (sadly), but it’s still long enough to tug.

“Yeah?” Adora looks up at the ceiling, where dawn’s light is slowly erasing the stars that fill it at night. She knows that when Catra brings something up before they even get out of bed, she’s gonna ask for something. Most of it is stuff Adora is willing to give, though, so that works out. 

“Have you ever thought about using She-Ra in bed?” 

Catra’s tone of voice is unmistakable – it’s only been a few months, but Adora has learned that Catra has an incredible appetite for sex in all the wonderful, exciting ways they’ve tried it so far. It’s been a dream and Adora wouldn’t give it up for the world. But the idea of using She-Ra for that is, is… new.

Adora goes with her first shocked response. "Catra, She-Ra isn't a toy!"

At the noise, Melog trills gently from their pillow and curls into a tighter ball, putting a paw over their face.

"No, Adora, but she makes me feel like one." Catra stretches under the covers next to Adora, languid and long, and tangles their legs together. “Don’t you want to make me feel like you could just hold me down and take what you want?”

"What? Oh. Oh! Uh, you're into that?" Adora doesn’t know how to react to that, those words or the flush of warmth that seeps into her at the thought. Am I into that? What is “that” at all? I’m not experienced enough for this!

Catra laughs, her amusement throwing raspy emphasis on her words. "You spent years tossing me around in fights as She-Ra. Why do you think I kept getting close enough for you to do that? Hell yes, I'm into that, c'mon!"

“Uh, jeez, Catra, can I think about it?”

Where Catra might have once thrown a pity party at the perceived rejection, something about their relationship since they’d gotten together has really stabilized her. She just yawns and snuggles closer under Adora’s arm, her fur like soft clouds against Adora’s naked side. 

“Yeah, Adora, take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”



MEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOW



Adora needs help, so when she gets a minute’s freedom she goes to the most successfully-gay person she knows. Fortunately, Netossa is in her and Spinnerella’s quarters at Brightmoon for the quarterly Princess Council meeting in a few days, so she doesn’t have to ask Glimmer for a ride or take her ship out to their home. That would arouse too much suspicion.

Netossa and Spinnerella had taken their “baby gays,” as they called Catra and Adora, under their wings from the first full day they were back in Brightmoon. Spinnerella had asked Catra for a word, and Netossa had pulled Adora aside. When they got back to their rooms and compared notes, Adora and Catra had been each given a hand-written pamphlet containing common terms and their meanings, a short lecture about communication, and in Catra’s case, a set of nail clippers. Their advice and gifts had been much appreciated by both of them ever since, once they got over how awkward it was. And every once in a while, Adora had needed to ask Netossa about stuff, and she’d always gotten a clear, non-judgmental answer. She knows that Catra had gone to Spinnerella about some things, too over the last few months. 

Adora waits until Spinnerella leaves and checks the hallway outside of the door for eavesdroppers. Satisfied that she’s being as secretive as possible, she knocks.

Netossa opens the door, wearing just her black net-haltered crop top and blue slacks. Her side-shave is perfect, accentuating the fluffy wave of her silver hair. Adora is immediately aware of her own rumpled clothes and hastily thrown-together hair bump.

“Adora! Nice to see you, what’s up?”

"Hi, Netossa. Um, can I talk to you for a few minutes?" Adora knows the words come out too fast and she shifts from foot to foot. 

"Sure, c’mon in.”

Adora rushes inside and shuts the door, making sure it’s completely closed. She can hear Netossa’s concern in her next words. 

“Hey, Is everything ok?"

Adora spins around and gives her best “no worries here!” grin. "Ahahaha yeahhhh sure! Why, don’t you think that everything isn't ok? Or, wait, don’t you think that everything IS ok?" She feels sweat starting to bead on her back under her jacket. 

Ohhh this isn’t going well at all. Think smooth, Adora, think calm. This is fine. We’re both adults, talking about adult things. That’s all.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, you just seem nervous. That's all." Netossa tilts her head to the side, looking sympathetic. “Is everything ok with Catra?”

Adora can feel her veneer of confidence start to crack. She has to just go for it or she’ll never get it out there. "CatrawantsmetobeShe-RainbedandI’mnotsurewhatI’mdoingcanyouhelp?"

"Oh!" Netossa seems taken aback for just a moment, probably sorting through the words that had just been kinda shouted at her, before a smile creases her face. "Oh of course! Yeah, let's chat, I'm happy to help. Here, come on, sit down."

With a grateful sigh, Adora flops down on one of the floofy chair cushions scattered around the room’s sitting area. “I’m sorry I keep asking you these awkward questions, it’s just, well, You know.” Shadow Weaver had been the closest thing to a role model she’d had, and both she and Catra had had the sense not to ever ask her questions about sex.

Netossa waves a hand, sitting forward on her own cushion. “No apologies needed! Listen, you both had a hard time of it as kids, and you’re discovering this whole new world with each other. I think it’s great, and I really am happy to be here to give advice or whatever you need. Now,” she rubs her hands together, “what’s the problem? Is it the idea of using powers in bed?”

“Ummm,” Adora says, feeling her blush radiating heat from her ears. She’s so grateful to have Netossa and Spinnerella to answer her questions, but it’s still so awkward to ask them. “Kinda. Like, how do you know you’re not gonna hurt them?”

“It’s tough, right?” Netossa says. “We spend our lives fighting to make the world a better place. I can crush robots in my nets. If I can damage metal bots, what can I do to the woman I love?”

“Yes!” Adora sits up, slamming her fist into her palm. “Exactly! I could really hurt her, Netossa! And for what, so she can feel … uh, well, sorry. That’s private.” 

Adora scratches the back of her head. Catra might not want other people to know how she wants to feel in bed. Catra’s trust issues have been helped a lot by the friendships she’s made, especially with Perfuma (oddly, Perfuma’s combination of “let it be” mindfulness and “hey you’ve got a problem here” frankness really speaks to Catra), but that doesn’t mean that Adora telling people about stuff Catra says always goes over well with Catra. Best to play it safe.

Netossa waves it away. “You don’t have to tell me why, Adora. I don’t need to know Catra’s secrets to help you, and I won’t tell anyone else anything about this conversation. Except Spinny, and just that we talked. And, likewise, I’m gonna tell you some things that I would rather not have everybody know, but I know you won’t spread them around. Sounds good?”

“Yeah!”

Netossa claps her hands. “Okay, so, yes. With powers, you could really hurt your partner. That’s a given. But, there’s a flipside to using the thing you use to fight to make someone else feel good – my nets aren’t just a weapon, they’re part of me, and I love them. I spend part of every day with my nets, making sure they’re perfectly controlled, balanced, and fine-tuned to do the job I tell them to do. I have absolute control over how they behave, just like you can both lift a tank and safely catch a falling person when you’re She-Ra. Those are two very different kinds of strength, but you don’t really have to think about them, right? You can crush metal and yet hold someone’s hand gently.”

Adora nods.

"Now, listen, we don't do this every night, but sometimes Spinny just gets all wound up in her own head. It can be about the stuff that happened in the war, or something to do with what’s happening that day, but she can’t settle down and just, you know, be with me. So,” Netossa tosses a ball of glowing netting into the air, letting it spin on one finger as it grows to the size of a coconut. “Sometimes, I use a little net to hold her down. It takes her out of her head for a bit, lets her be present.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that you use powers in bed? For sex?” Adora asks.

Netossa snaps her fingers, dismissing her net ball. “Yeah! With Spinny’s permission, of course, and we have regular check-ins about it. She uses hers, too. We had to learn how not to wreck the room or the bed and go slow, but it’s been a really fun journey. I think it’s brought us closer together, you know? Fighting together, loving together. The same powers, but vastly different uses.”

Adora nods again. She does see it, but she’s still caught up in the idea of using She-Ra’s immense strength with Catra. Again, it gives her a burning flash of interest that she recognizes as desire, but she can’t just give in to it. Can she?

Adora musters up the courage to ask her next question. “And, ok, so if I want to be She-Ra and, like, be physically more in control than Catra. Are there ways I can do that without hurting her?”

Netossa’s gaze is shrewd, and Adora flushes again as she feels the other woman sees right through her. “If she wants you to be more in control, you won’t have to use that much strength, Adora. And there are ways to assert control, or you could say dominance, without being actually violent. Look at how you act and speak as She-Ra. You hold yourself up even straighter, though your posture is great anyhow, and you speak with more authority. You tend to act like people should obey your orders and they do . Some of that is She-Ra, but I bet a lot of it is how you feel as She-Ra. I truly believe you’ll figure it out. And you can heal, so even if you make a mistake you can fix it.”

“Oh.” That is reassuring, even if Adora doesn’t entirely understand the stuff about her being more authoritative. Adora clears her throat. She has one more question. “But if I’m She-Ra, it’ll just be more of, well, me. Is there any way I can make this special?”

Netossa lights up. “Well, have you ever considered using toys?”

“Toys?”

“Yeah, like, implements specifically made to be used in the bedroom. There’s a lot of First Ones tech just sitting around, and I managed to occupy Entrapta’s interest long enough to get her to make some stuff for us. One of them, ah, straps onto my hips and lets me keep my hands free for other things, if you get what I mean. It’s a lot of fun, I recommend it.”

Adora does get what she means. She’d found a book in Bow’s dads’ library that was kinda a First One’s sex manual, and while she had almost had steam coming out of her ears by the end, she had seen stuff like Netossa mentioned. She just hadn’t yet thought about using it herself. But now that she has, the possibilities are interesting.

“Maybe Entrapta could make something for me!”

“Maybe! Or, well, Adora.” Netossa leans forward as if she’s imparting a secret, and Adora mirrors her. “You know that sword of yours will do anything for you, right? A-ny-thing.”

 

MEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOW

 

Adora wanders back to her quarters in a daze, thinking about all the things Netossa had said. She’d made a lot of sense, and brought up some things that Adora hadn’t really thought about before. Adora’s itching to experiment, but first she has to figure out where to do it. Catra tends to be up and about at dawn and dusk, then nap intermittently throughout the day. Adora never knows when she’ll run into her.

But when she gets back to their room, Catra is nowhere to be seen. Adora closes the door and after an extra thought she locks it. There had been some truly embarrassing incidents during the first week after she and Catra had gotten together, so everyone knows to leave her and Catra alone if the door is locked. Even Glimmer carefully teleports outside first to check. 

Adora takes a deep breath, then thinks about Catra. She can do this. She reaches out and feels the sword, always eager to please, start to appear in her palm. “For the honor of Grayskull!”

The familiar warmth grows in her chest first, spreading to her shoulders and hips, then cascading down her arms and legs as it floods steadily up her neck. Unlike with Mara’s old sword, where Adora guided some of the transformation, this one equips her automatically. The broken interface in Mara’s ship hadn’t been able to give her any real answers, but that’s okay. Adora just likes that this She-Ra holds more of her friends, more of Catra than ever before.

Fully clad in She-Ra form, Adora tamps down her aura. First things first, she doesn’t want the whole kingdom to freak out thinking that someone’s attacking. She-Ra can have that aura-enhancing effect on the others, so Adora firmly tells the sword to stop communicating with Etheria. This is private, she thinks, and hopes the sword understands.

Once that’s done, she just has to figure out what she wants from the sword. She closes her eyes and tries to concentrate on what she remembers seeing from the book. Ok, so, tubular, a little curved, with a front-part that’s just a bit wider than the middle and a base. She concentrates and feels her sword obeying, morphing. She can always feel it, somewhat, and knows where it is and what’s happening to it, so she knows when it’s done.

Triumphant, Adora opens her eyes.

She’s holding a three-foot long, enormously wide, cylindrical monstrosity of smooth, silvery metal, with the swordhilt still intact and jewel shining defiantly at the crossguard. As she watches in stunned horror, a shimmer of light swirls up the base and sparks off the tip with a metallic ting. It feels … proud of itself.

“Aaaaah! Oh no, oh no, oh no, I meant you to be SMALL!” she says, concentrating. With a magical, shimmering sound, the sword absorbs the hilt and shrinks, morphing swiftly into a teeny thing the size of a slug. The jewel remains its normal size, bulging out one end.

“Aaah! Oh no, this was a terrible idea!” Adora tries to talk through her visualization, remembering how hard it was to get the original sword to cooperate before she fixed … no, not fixed. Re-manifested it. Sometimes, talking it through helped. Maybe with a new shape, she needed to do it manually?

“Ok. I want you to be this long.” She demonstrates with her hands and the sword complies, stretching out thin so that the jewel still bulges out. “And this thick.” She estimates and it obeys again, absorbing the jewel until it’s just an oval lump shining out on two sides, but otherwise engulfed in the shaft. “Right, ok, remember that. Now, I want you to be a little flexible.” She tries to bend it and it complies. “A little more, yeah, like that.” She doesn’t really know if it’ll be right for Catra, but hey she can always change things.

Here comes the tricky part. Adora pulls down her pants until she can see the curls covering her groin, somehow more boisterous and plentiful than ever in She-Ra form. And they’re a LOT more blonde than normal. Huh. She hasn’t really looked before. “Now, I want you to be attached to me right here.” She points the broader end of the sword-construct, with the jewel, toward her clit. “Maybe with some straps, or maybe you can – AH?!”

The sword melts into her. It’s the only word Adora can use to describe what’s happening, how it flows and slides and burrows inside her, until a weighty swell inside her steals her breath. Suddenly, she has not just a single tube, but a tube that’s attached to her in the most intimate way possible. Adora tugs at it and almost yelps. It doesn’t budge, like, at all, but does flex and slide in her grip. What’s more, it feels good.  

“I felt that! What? Oh.” Adora tries it again, and wow, it feels really good. She wants to squirm with it, or maybe she wants …

Adora thrusts her hips into her hand and almost falls over with how good it feels. She stares down at the thing in her hand, and notices something. There’s a little hole in the tip, and something liquid is slowly beading on the surface. She wipes a thumb over it and tastes it. It’s recognizable. 

“Oh, wow, that’s from me? Do you have this as, like, a preset?”

Not for the first time, Adora wonders what Mara got up to before the Heart of Etheria was activated. This isn’t Mara’s sword, not anymore, but it has the same programming. Maybe she and Mara were even more alike than she thought, had some of the same ideas on how to use the sword? But also, here she is talking to a sword . Maybe she and Mara were both just this nuts.

A noise at the door makes Adora swing her head up, then she looks, panicked, back down at the thing in her hand, the thing that’s attached to her . “Oh, no no nonono ok time to go, time to turn off, let’s go back to just plain Adora …”

The sword ignores her, resisting her yank as she tries to pry it away from herself, and then Adora hears the key in the lock. Catra, oh no.

Adora pulls up her pants and tries to order the sword to hide itself, to no avail. It’s a firm, thick bulge in her pants, bent and pressed almost uncomfortably down along one leg. She scurries to sit on the bed and picks up a pillow, shuffling it across her lap. In her hurry, she sits on her hair and has to swiftly hop up and sweep it aside, then sit again.

Catra, resplendent in her typical torn tights and red tank, slinks inside and stops, blinking, at the sight of Adora as She-Ra on their bed. Her ears twitch amidst her hair, almost covered by the lengthening brown strands. Melog stops next to her, an inquisitive tilt to their head as they look between Catra and Adora.

Adora waves, screaming internally. “Hiiiiiii Catra.”

“Hey, Adora.” Something shifts in Catra’s expression, wariness mingling with curiosity, and as Adora watches she turns, mutters something to Melog, and lets the cat out. Then, she locks the door. 

“Soooo you’re all dressed up,” Catra says, sauntering closer with her tail twitching, her eyes dilating little by little. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

“Ummm, yes, I think so, though I wanna talk about it first.” Adora swallows her dismay and pats the bed next to her. Her hands are so much bigger as She-Ra, wow. Normally she’s fighting or something, but it really makes a difference next to the throw pillows.

Catra sits on the bed, pulling up one leg and lacing her hands around the shin. Her toe claws flex on the fabric, but one hand has trimmed claws to protect Adora’s skin (and more sensitive places). “You look a little uncomfortable, which is why I’m asking. If you’re not ready, if you’re moving too fast for my sake –” 

“Oh, no, I think it would be fun! I just might have tried to do something and it got out of hand, that’s all.” Adora tries for nonchalant and knows she’s utterly failed.

Catra looks at her and her ears perk up with curiosity. “What kind of something?”

“Ummmm. Well, I might have gotten an idea, and nowmyswordisattachedtomyclit.” Adora feels herself blushing, knows her fair skin is turning cherry red up to her ears. 

Catra blinks, her ears twitch, and her tail crooks in an inquisitive curve. “What?”

Adora sighs and moves the pillow. 

Catra rears back, her ears flat and tail poofing out. “What,” she rasps, “is that?!”

Adora looks down, seeing the obvious, bulging print of the sword’s gentle ridges and a growing wet spot at the tip. “The sword,” she says, helpless. “I just wanted to attach it with straps but I think it, um, might have had a preset for this? As soon as it touched me it just did this?”

Catra freezes for a second, mouth open, then scurries closer as Adora watches her curiosity overcome alarm. “Ok, I have to see this. Do those pants even come off?”

Adora nods, standing up. “They’re like … Entrapta described it to me, She-Ra’s clothing is made of tiny, tiny bots that, um, live inside me. That part’s a little weird, but anyway. They find me if they get lost and reassemble themselves into these clothes or others when I make the sword appear or disappear. So I can just,” she rips the pauldron off her shoulder, watching the scrap of metal dissolve before it hits the floor.

“Wait, wait, you mean I can rip all of this off you?” Catra leaps to her feet and stalks closer. “Oh, man, I’ve been dying to do that, can I please?” Her ears are quivering with excitement, pointed forward and focused on Adora, and her tail is almost still with the tip twitching madly. Adora knows this look, can almost hear the little chirrups Catra makes when she sees birds and thinks no one’s around to notice.

Adora’s used to this look being aimed at her, from years of fighting and now months of sex. It denotes fun times to come, so she doesn’t hesitate to agree. “Sure!”

Catra takes especial glee in ripping, slashing, and tearing Adora’s suit, especially when she pulls away the entire half-skirt and leaves her in just her pants. As she does so, Adora shivers with each rake of claws across her skin. They barely penetrate anyway, and with a thought they’re healed, so while she’s She-Ra they kinda tickle. Catra cheers when Adora’s boobs are freed, and she glides her hand along her abs, chuckling as they tense under her hand.

Then she stalks around Adora, eyeing the pants. 

“Here, c’mon, lie back on the bed. I think the shoes come off with them?” Catra shoves at her and Adora laughs, falling back on the bed.

“I like how much you’re enjoying this.”

Catra rips open the waistband and stops, mouth open, at the sight of Adora’s new attachment when it’s finally freed. “You weren’t kidding!”

Adora half-sits, propping herself up on her arms. “Of course I wasn’t kidding!”

“I know but this is so strange, is it leaking?

“Uh, yeah, I think it’s taking some from me – AH!” The swipe of Catra’s tongue across the tip rockets warm, tingling electricity into Adora, and she grits her teeth at the renewed pulse of need. “What the heck?”

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?” Catra hovers, indecisive, her ears back and eyes wide. 

Adora shakes her head, laughing. “No, no, it felt good, just surprised me.”

Catra holds up her own hand. “Wait, wait, you feel what happens to this thing? Like, as if it was really attached to you?” As Adora nods, Catra’s eyes dilate until the pupils are almost round, darkening the mismatched colors. “Adora, I like this. If you’re ok with it, I wanna use it.”

Adora nods. She’ll go anywhere with Catra, and the way this whole thing has gone makes her much more comfortable with the idea. If she’d let herself explore it on her own she might have gotten really insecure about the entire thing, but this is fun.

“Besides, Adora,” Catra says, her voice gone silky smooth in the way that always makes Adora’s mouth dry as the desert, “I always knew you wanted to stab me with your big, shiny sword.”

Adora laughs, swats Catra. “I never thought about stabbing you there, though.”

In a flurry of flying clothing, Catra has stripped down to nothing and disposed of Adora’s remaining nano-clothes as well. Adora’s just in her tiara and bracers, and she takes them off too. Easier not to hurt Catra when she’s not wearing hard objects. 

Catra shimmies closer, straddling Adora’s thighs. 

Adora wants to make sure they don’t mess this up, so she stops Catra with a hand to her chest. She ignores Catra's boobs and the tempting patch of fur that grows thicker and thicker down her belly to fluff between her legs. She especially ignores the ache between her own legs. This is important .

“So, just to be clear. We’re gonna put that,” she points to the gleaming silver sword, smooth and swirled almost like a unicorn horn with a blunt point, the blue gem gleaming at the base, “inside you, and see how it feels?” 

Responding, perhaps, to the full flood of her attention, the sword stands a bit straighter and gleams at her. Another bead of fluid swells from the tip and starts dripping down the side. Wow, ok, it seems happy about this.

“Yesssss,” Catra hums. Adora rips her gaze away from the sword to look into Catra's determined, excited eyes. "We're gonna see how it feels for both of us."

"Okay!" Adora squeaks. She wants this, all of this, with Catra. "I love you, let's do this."

“I love you too, dork.” Catra says, a lopsided smirk on her face.

Adora lets go of her hesitation, eager to try this new thing as the familiar, furry warmth of her girlfriend crawls up her body. Catra sinks into her with a kiss, and Adora melts like she always does. 

Catra always tastes so good, like licorice and grass and catmint. Adora pulls her close by the back of her neck, kissing deep, letting her tongue graze between fangs and tease along Catra’s own, longer tongue. Meanwhile, Adora lets her other hand wander, running down Catra’s spine with her nails, leaving deep trails in Catra’s fur and coaxing a rumbling purr out of her girlfriend’s throat.

Catra arches against her and Adora groans as the sword is trapped between them, the pressure and grind doing interesting things to her insides. Catra does it again, purposefully this time, rubbing herself against it. 

“Whoa, Adora, this thing feels warm,” she murmurs between kisses. 

Adora finds Catra’s butt with her hand and grabs a handful of it, feeling the twitch of Catra’s tail with her thumb as she squeezes and pulls Catra against her. “Mmhmm, you feel good,” Adora says, and as she does she bucks her hips. The intentional slide against all that fur feels heavenly on skin and sword alike, and Adora falls into a shallow, pleasurable grind just to feel it again, and again.

They find a pleasant rhythm, there, kissing and mumbling soft praise to each other, and Adora sinks into it like the home it is. It isn’t until Catra’s mouth starts trailing down her neck, fangs threatening but never cutting her skin, that Adora feels the need to progress. But first, Catra licks up across one of Adora’s breasts, teasing the nipple. Adora arches, her super sensitive nerves going into overdrive, and she holds Catra’s head to it. 

“Fuck,” she mutters to the ceiling, “Catra, that’s good, I like that.”

Catra’s muffled purr is her answer, that and the dulled fingernails that tweak her other breast. But then Catra looks up, eyes full of mischief.

“I thought you were She-Ra so you could be on top, Adora.”

Adora reacts to the challenge and easily tips Catra over, laughing as she pins her much-smaller girlfriend to the bed. Catra laughs up at her, wiggling and trying to get away to no avail. Adora feels a flash of victorious heat and chases its urges, dropping to speak in Catra's ear.

"I've got you now."

"Oh yeah?" Catra sounds nonchalant, but her fast breathing and darkened eyes tell a different story. "What're you gonna do with me?"

"I'm gonna make you feel good, Catra," Adora answers. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Not waiting for an answer, Adora dips her mouth to Catra's breast. Surrounded by tiny, soft hairs that tickle her face, Catra's nipple is hard, waiting for her. Adora rolls her tongue over it, teasing, then takes it inside her mouth.

Catra's sex sounds are always a delight. For one thing, now Adora knows for sure that Catra was masturbating in the Horde crew showers late at night when everyone else was asleep. Her little "rrows" and grunts are distinctive, if quiet, and Adora delights in chasing them out, making them bigger and louder until Catra starts demanding she stop teasing. 

So now, with Catra already so worked up, it doesn't take long at all for her to whine and wiggle against Adora's hands, legs wrapping around her waist to drag her closer. Even Catra's tail twines around her leg, coaxing her.

Adora indulges what her bigger, stronger body can do and pulls Catra's wrists together in one hand above her head, pressing them into the mattress. Now she can use her freed hand to scratch down through steadily thickening fur to Catra's pussy.

"Yes yes right there hurry up." Catra writhes under her, excitement warring with need in her eyes and face. 

Adora has a thought and stops right where she can feel the dampness starting in Catra's hair, gently resting so close but yet so far from where Catra needs her to be. 

"Ask me to touch you," Adora says, willing She-Ra's authority into her voice. "Say please, Catra."

Catra stills, her face flushing under the fine coat of tan fur dusting her skin. She swallows, blinking up at Adora, then looks to the side. "Please," Catra whispers. "I want you."

Adora feels powerful, not because she's strong as She-Ra, but because she can do this, tease out Catra's desires in this fun new way. 

"Look at me," she orders, and Catra's eyes flick back to hers. "I wanna see how this feels for you."

The first drag of her fingers through Catra's pussy is heaven, soft and warm and so, so wet. But what really makes it special is watching Catra trying so hard to maintain eye contact as Adora cradles her clit between finger and thumb, tweaking it gently.

Catra's face tenses, her eyes dilating and constricting in turns as Adora moves her fingers in a swirling, dancing pattern that she knows Catra loves. 

Adora can't help it. She bends close, tilts her head to fit their noses side by side, breathing a tranquil moment before she kisses Catra. Just as she uses her tongue to swipe against Catra's lip, she dips a single fingertip inside Catra, into that soft pool of liquid heat at her opening.

Catra opens her mouth for Adora with an encouraging moan, and Adora lets her finger sink inside, all the way to the knuckle. Catra's hips tilt under her, inviting, and Adora sinks closer, feeling the tip of the sword land somewhere furry. 

"Mmm your finger's big like this," Catra mutters into Adora's mouth. 

Adora curls it, finding that spot Catra likes on her front wall, and coaxes a sweet sound out of Catra. "You should see my sword," she quips back.

Instead of laughing, like Adora expects, Catra arches under her, her walls flexing around Adora's finger. "I want it," she growls, "but I think maybe you should add another finger before we try it."

Adora feels the sword perk up at the new attention and tells it, sternly, not yet. But wow, she's so turned on right now, every sound and move of Catra's giving her new pressure, fresh tension in her own pussy that's only amplified by the sword's feedback. 

Adora does as instructed, gently pumping in two fingers and watching in awe as Catra's face twists and flexes with the sensation. When Adora brings her thumb into play, pressing against Catra's clit, circling in rhythm with her fingers, sharp claws dig into her back from Catra's back feet. 

Adora doesn't mind - she can heal them up easily, and as She-Ra sometimes pain is even pleasurable. She presses deeper, enjoying the slickness and heat around her fingers second only to the reactions they coax from Catra's mouth.

She stoops for another kiss and Catra whimpers against her lips, then nips, her teeth closing gently enough to only sting. 

"You really like this, huh," Adora says, unable to keep her mouth shut in the face of her love. "I love the way you feel, Catra."

Sometimes Catra still reacts badly to praise from others, remnants of the damage from Shadow Weaver. But she always accepts it from Adora, always blossoms under the shower of Adora's affection. This time is no different. Catra kisses her, throwing herself into the kiss with an abandon that fills Adora with love and urgency.

Adora plunges her fingers inside, fast, hard, and hitting the front wall the way Catra likes best. Even at this angle, crouched over Catra with one arm pinning her hands to the bed, Adora has more than enough strength to do this easily, can watch without distractions as Catra reacts and squirms and slowly falls apart, messy and loud and so very Catra that it makes Adora's heart thump louder in her chest. 

"I love you, Catra," she growls, possessive joy in every syllable. "I love seeing you like this, love how wild you get, love that I'm the one making you feel this way."

"Adora, fuck," Catra pants, humping herself onto Adora's fingers with every thrust. "I wanna come, please don't stop?"

"I won't stop, wanna watch you, wanna feel you, you're mine, Catra."

"Shit!" Catra screws her eyes closed, mouth open, flushed cheeks shining through her skin and fur. 

Adora feels the moment she tips over the edge, the squeeze of Catra's pussy around her fingers, the curl of her spine as every muscle seems to tense and bunch under her skin and fur. A tear leaks out of Catra's eye and Adora releases her girlfriend's hands, propping herself on her elbow to wipe it away, letting her other hand stay where it's buried inside Catra.

"Hey," Adora says, slowly petting Catra's face, letting her fingertips dive into the ruff around her jaw and hairline with each stroke. This is something she used to do when they cuddled in the Fright Zone growing up, pet Catra's face and hair as they lay together. She knows why it always filled her heart with pleasure and a tinge of pain to have Catra follow her fingers with tiny shifts of her head to help her hit the right spots. And now that they’re together, it isn't oddly bittersweet anymore, just wonderful.

Catra melts into the bed, her legs falling open to either side of Adora's stomach. With a twitch of an ear, her eyes open again. 

"Hey, Adora," she says, a goofy smile on her face. 

Adora feels her face stretch to meet it with her own. "Hey, Catra."

"Mmm so, wanna try that thing out?" Catra's eyes narrow suggestively. "I bet you're feeling pretty pent up right now."

Adora's pussy gives a needy throb at the reminder and she looks down between them to see what's up with the sword, accidentally tossing her long, long ponytail onto Catra's face. The squawk from Catra alerts her to the problem and she reacts, pushing up to a kneeling position to shake it back over her shoulder. In doing so, she pulls her hand out of Catra's pussy with a wet squelch.

"Sorry!" Adora says, for the hair and the sudden removal of her fingers.

Catra waves her off. "Not the first time I've had your hair in my mouth." She leans back, arms and legs splayed out, fur rumpled by their movements. A long track of squished-down fur follows the path Adora’s arm had taken to her pussy, where her lips are pouting open, glistening wet and tempting.

Adora laughs in agreement, lifting her hand to her mouth to lick Catra off her fingers. She hums at the taste of spiced sweetness and salt, so familiar now. She loves licking Catra, to the point where her partner had wondered if she has some cat blood after all.

"Soooo," Catra purrs. "How's this gonna work?"

A jolt runs through Adora. She looks down to see Catra's hand wrapped around the sword, her palm smooth and brown where it touches the metal.

I can't keep calling it a sword. But that's what it is, most of the time. Ugh I'll decide later.

"Uh," Adora says, intelligently.

As she watches, Catra’s hand explores the metal, twining around it, walking her fingers down to the jewel shining through the base. Adora sinks into a deeper stance, still kneeling, watching with her mouth open as Catra squeezes and pulls , letting her hand slide up the shaft. It’s wet, probably with her own slickness, and the bumps as Catra caresses along the smooth ridges are heavenly.

Adora says, “Wow,” not exactly meaning to let the word slip out.

Adora knows how to have sex at this point, of course. She’s good at it, they have fun with it. Catra is good with her tongue and fingers alike, bringing Adora to clawing, shivering, screaming climax within moments or what seems like hours, depending on how mischievous she’s feeling at the time. But this, the idea of this, is entirely new, and strange, and wonderful … and she has no idea how to do any of it.

The drawings, though. They could do this like they were right now, like how Catra sometimes likes to get off on Adora’s stomach from underneath. Adora lets herself slide forward, her knees nudging Catra’s thighs up, until the sword is hovering just above her pussy. Adora leans forward, dislodging Catra’s hand with her own. 

“Let’s try it out,” Adora says, and tilts her hips, watching in fixated awe as the tip of her sword touches Catra and starts to edge her open, encountering silky, wet tightness and heat. It feels so good. Adora lets her next breath hiss out from between her teeth.

Catra lets out a noise and Adora stops cold, looking up. Catra’s chest is heaving, her eyes wide and dilated as she looks down at Adora. 

“Everything ok?” 

“Yeah it’s just new, I think?” Catra’s clawed hand is digging into the bed, her other hand trying and failing to do the same. Adora feels her tail wrapping itself around her thigh.

Adora offers her own hand. “Here, hold on to me, we’re doing this together,” she says, and when Catra latches on with her less-sharp hand, Adora starts sinking deeper once more.

“Oh, fuck,” Catra growls, her fingers tightening on Adora’s hand. 

Adora’s attention darts between Catra’s face and the emotions there, their hands intertwined, and the half-buried sword linking their hips. She nods, agreeing with the sentiment, and jogs her hips a little, edging even further inside. It’s intoxicating, engrossing, seeing Catra laid open for her, her clit peeking out from its hood over her stretched opening. Adora moves her free thumb to it and, gathering up Catra’s plentiful wetness, rubs a light circle.

“Yess!” Catra jumps, startling Adora still deeper, and this push continues until the gem sits right outside Catra, the rest of the sword buried deep. 

Stunned by the warmth, the tightness, the new sensations cascading through her sword and into her own pussy, Adora rests there, breathing, squeezing Catra’s hand, and rubbing small, gentle circles over Catra’s clit. Catra’s thighs flex and Adora feels, more than sees, Catra pull herself just that tiny bit farther onto Adora’s sword.

The air feels like it shimmers with potential, here, the calm before the storm. Adora’s paralysis fades and instead she fills up with curiosity and need in equal measure. 

She squeezes Catra’s hand twice. “I’m gonna move now, if you’re ready.”

“Yeah.” The word is a raspy croak. “Yeah, yeah, go ahea –”

Adora pulls back, gritting her jaw at the lack of warmth, and then slides back inside. Everything burns with the sweet glory of pleasure, but it’s not enough, she needs to–

“Oh, yeah, do that again!” Catra urges, her thighs tensing against Adora to try to get her to move. 

Adora grins and does it again, and again, and again, picking up an awkward rhythm. It’s not something she’s used to, but some part of her knows it, can sense the primal patterns underlying the action and fill in the gaps, just like when she’s fighting. She grabs onto Catra’s hips and that helps, stabilizes, shows her light-skinned, enormous, powerful hands against Catra’s brown fur, digging into her stripes and moving Catra, coordinating their actions.

Catra’s encouragement devolves into sounds, urgings, hisses and muttered growls and little mewls of pleasure that drip and bounce from her open mouth into the still, quiet air around them. The slick sounds of the sword plunging deep inside fill Adora’s ears too, along with her own harsh breaths, whines, and grunts as the sword rockets sensation and pleasure into her core.

Adora doesn’t even know what she’s doing, not really, but she knows that she loves it, loves what it’s doing to Catra, what it feels like. Her rhythm gets harder, faster, until she’s slamming deep to the rhythm of her fast-beating heart. Everything is them, here, Catra’s hand gripping her wrist at one hip while the other dances over her clit, Adora’s hair sticking wetly to her forehead, their gazes meeting in wide-eyed appreciation and connection.

“Oh, shit,” Catra chokes out, her neck arching back, her entire body bouncing on the bed with Adora’s thrusts. “Shit, Adora, I’m gonna –”

Adora’s world tightens, clamps down in glorious, hot, effervescent warmth and she drowns in it. Losing her rhythm, her hips stutter and jounce, resisted and almost squeezed out by Catra’s orgasm. But that drive building behind her hips and filling her up won’t let her stop, won’t let her ride this out. Adora growls, pushing forward, picking up her dropped beat as she slams deep into Catra’s spasming pussy, feeling her own peak approaching and driving toward it.

She barely notices when Catra comes again, scratching, clawing her skin, only catches the burst of sensation across her arm as another spark feeding the coiling power deep in her core, building and building like an earthquake about to split the ground open.

It bursts and Adora bursts with it, a deep, formless cry escaping her mouth as she feels something inside her rush through her veins, pulsing out to her fingertips and back to gush through her, into Catra, into them . She falls forward, catching herself on one arm, and rides out the last pulses with her face buried in Catra’s shoulder.

After what seems like a lifetime, Adora rolls over. She gropes for the sword and finds nothing, just her own soaked hair and pussy. Huh. She-Ra must have left her. Weird. She’s not gonna figure it out now.

Catra laughs. Adora’s heard many of Catra’s laughs through the years. There’s her mischievous laugh, full of impending trouble for someone (usually Adora). There’s her cold, hard laugh, reserved for moments of betrayal or vindictiveness. There’s her fake laugh, one of Adora’s least favorites, the one that means Catra is uncomfortable. There are good laughs too, ones of new friends found, playfulness, surprised pleasure. But when Catra is happy, alone with Adora, she laughs and it’s really real , just for them. That’s Adora’s favorite, and it’s the one she hears now.

Adora pries her eyes away from the ceiling and turns her head to look at Catra. Calm, smiling, mismatched eyes gaze right back at her, heavy-lidded. 

“Mmm,” Adora hums, stretching onto her side. She props her head up on her arm, surveying the mess they’ve made. “I like it when you laugh.” She can hear the warm, almost drunk happiness in her own voice and smiles.

“Well,” Catra says, “I do it a lot around you. Especially when you pull something like that out of nowhere.”

Catra stretches like a cat, full of languid pleasure, until her arms and legs shake and she can curl back onto her side facing Adora. 

“So you liked it?” Adora asks. She eyes the ripped sheets, the copious liquid drying on their skin and fur, and deadpans, “I couldn’t tell.”

Then Adora’s composure breaks, as it often does, and she giggle-snorts, throwing an arm around Catra to drag her close. Catra laughs with her, throwing her leg over Adora’s thigh and dragging a sheet over them both. 

“Adora,” Catra says, “That was awesome.” 

Adora can hear the affection in the simple praise, knows how Catra feels right now, and responds with the words that have become their shared world. “I love you too, Catra.” Adora yawns. 

“Nap?” Catra asks, a purr beginning to rumble out of her throat.

“Nap.” Adora closes her eyes and lets herself drift to the thrum of Catra’s purr. She knows Catra will still be here when she wakes up, and that’s all she’ll ever need.