April

There it went again, that mouth. It was some snide, self-serving comment followed by a snicker that was meant to taunt anyone in the vicinity. Catra liked the ripple effect that came with embarrassing someone in a hallway. Bystanders went on with the explicit desire to avoid such a scene for themselves. It was two birds with one stone.

You didn't care about the recruits per se, having a thick skin was required of all Horde recruits. What really irked you was the way Catra carried on as if she and the recruits had nothing better to do. You, for one, needed a recruit to locate your damned laundry. One of them was no doubt responsible for the displacement, so it was only fitting that one of them slugged off to find your clothes. But by the sounds of Catra's cackling, the recruits in her grasp were less than reliable.

Still, you needed your fucking clothes. It wasn't like you had a large cache of outfits and ensembles.

Rounding the corner, you immediately caught sight of one recruit's eyes. The spindly armed boy's expression went from dejected to terrified. If one leader was making him feel humiliated, what could he expect from two - the question was etched on his youthful features.

"If you're done pretending you were any less of a disaster as a recruit, I need a runner."

Catra's head snapped towards you, clearly disgruntled by your intrusion. Her ears flattened slightly. You wondered what perturbed her more, the truth that she struggled, or that you needed to take away one of her playthings. You weren't sure, nor did you care. The laundry was missing. You refused to be a respected lord of the Horde in dirty clothes.

"I wasn't done debriefing them," Catra said, her tail began to flick behind her back.

"You do your debriefs in the hallway?"

"I do them wherever I want," there was that fucking mouth again. If Catra respected you, which she'd better, she didn't show it. You weren't sure you'd seen her actively respect anyone. She knew authority, and you'd heard that she bent occasionally, but never without running that mouth.

You looked behind Catra again, this time to a more competent looking recruit. To she, you nodded, "you know who I am?"

The recruit nodded sharply, without hesitation. Of course she did, but you didn't want to take the chance of sending an ill-informed errand girl.

"Good, I'm missing laundry that was meant to be delivered this morning. Find it." You could sense the confusion before you could see it register on the girl's face. You peered at her, waiting for her to ask the question she seemed to find unsavory. When it became clear that the recruit couldn't muster up the courage to speak her mind, you addressed her unspoken inquiry. "Start in the laundry room," you said with an impatient tone.

"That's what you're stealing my recruits for? To find your underwear?" Catra laughed prompting you to study her and the way the angle of her head made the light shine off her teeth. For someone who could be a brilliant predator, Catra sure spent a lot of time fucking around and laughing. You didn't laugh, not often at least, but Catra found it necessary. You'd seen her get torn to shreds only to be found giggling the next day. It would have been admirable if it didn't agitate you.

It was hard to reprimand or criticize someone who took nothing seriously.

And it was harder when you found that part of you liked her defiance. It wasn't the most dignified part of you, nor did it seem to be the most reasonable part as you found the idea, as a whole, to be problematic. One wasn't supposed to fantasize about someone who went out of their way to be a pain in the ass.

Yet there you were, feeling a familiar burning sensation in your veins as Catra stood across from you, challengingly.

"It's late," you said flatly, referring to the laundry.  You weren't going to confirm or deny the laundry's makeup. "And you're done. You've been done, Catra."

"No, actually, I'm not," her tone suggested that she wanted to continue. She was willing you to continue on the path of resistance. She always loved to spar.

"Then you can resume with the other two, and she can catch up with them after. I'm sure they're at least capable of parroting back information." You raised a questioning towards the pale recruit with the saucer eyes. "Right?"

Catra had no immediate response, in fact, she seemed to stall slightly as if she had expected you to say something else. You wondered what she'd predicted. "Probably not. She needs to hear it from me. If one can't hear it, then they all can't."

"Then reconvene later. I can make it an order, Catra."

"You don't outrank me anymore." She sounded more childlike than she had before, unyielding but still taking issue with your sentiment.

"But who will get their way," you asked, knowing that you had seniority and a better reputation than she, the Horde's wild child. Judging by the look on Catra's face, the defeated annoyance, she knew that she was toeing a line that would only lead to further agitation. Frankly, it would have been agitating to you too, having to file a petty grievance. It was beneath you, and Catra seemed to feel the same.

"Dismissed," she hissed, though her sights were set on you.

You held her gaze, "Recruit, laundry room first."

"Yes ma'am," the recruit said quickly. Without so much as another breath, the three recruits hurried off, needing no view of what they assumed would unfold. They were right to speculate, though their predictions would pale in comparison.

Catra's eyes were still glued to yours as you stepped closer, invading her space. "I don't like arguing in front of recruits," your tone was a warning, but purposefully tempting. You had a strong feeling that she'd take the bait.

"I don't like my recruits being sent on some quest for your underwear."

"You seem to be focusing on that article of clothing."

She had been gearing up to say something else, to cut you off, but instead, she squeaked. With a shake of her head, she started again, "you don't get to tell me what to do, and you can't tell my recruits what to do before they're dismissed. If I did that to you..."

"You wouldn't find me and my recruits in the hallway. I am not the one for scenes, Catra." Another step, this time she stepped up to you, meeting in the middle, nearly touching. The bait had been taken, and the prey began to hunger for more.

"You were wrong," she growled, though the typical malice was long gone and had been replaced by frustration.

"I'm never wrong."

"You can't order me to do anything," she sneered, "You can't make me do shit."

That was where she was so very wrong. You could, and apparently, you would have to prove the fact. She apparently knew how to bait you.

She began to back up, watching as you moved toward her imposingly and less than forgiving. In her eyes, found a distinct type of fear, like the kind someone felt before taking a thrill ride that may or may not kill them. A fear that many chased, often to their own detriment. Would Catra regret poking the beast, you wondered.

Deciding that you didn't care to speculate, you steered Catra back and against the cold wall of the hallway. You reached out and took her jaw in your hand. She pretended to give resistance, but you knew damn well what she was capable of. If she didn't want you so close, you wouldn't have been. Where you were calculated and deliberate, she was a flurry of motion and wild energy. She could easily escape your grasp, for a few moments.

"That's an interesting lie," you said, enjoying the way Catra's ears gave her away. There was something exciting about a person lying to your face. If gave you something to toy with; perhaps you and Catra weren't completely dissimilar. You were merely better at controlling yourself, typically. "Why do you even waste your breath, I wonder."

She fidgeted under your gaze, and you knew it was from the heat that was accumulating through her body because you could feel it radiating from her. It was rare for Catra to be so silent for an extended period of time, so you took the opportunity to continue. "Then again, you do love to run that mouth. Everyone's got to hear you, and what you've got to say because it's so fucking important. Right?"

You waited, an expectant look in your eyes. Catra nodded as silently instructed, evidently unaware that she was agreeing to your condescension. It gave you a sense of pride to see her forget herself so quickly and only due to your proximity and demeanor.

"It's a shame, really," you started, your thumb running along Catra's parted lips. Her breath was warm against your skin. "You could do many more valuable things with your mouth." Suddenly, you dropped Catra's chin and let your hand fall unceremoniously to your side, a display of how little you were invested in the situation. Your actions were implying something that was simply untrue. You were absolutely as engaged by the closeness as the dark-haired brat. Where you really differed was your ability to hide your actual responses. She was raw, you were constructed and it seemed to work in both of your favors.

"But what's really bothering me, Catra, is this idea that I can't make you do anything. And it makes me think, is she lying? Does she know the truth but feels unable to admit it? Surely she's not naive to the idea that people prefer to give into me." You punctuated the point with a glance at Catra's wilted stance, making it evident that you knew your presence affected your fellow leader. "No, I think you're a pain in the ass who wants to see what I can make you do. So now the question is, do I show you and give you what you want?"

She was hanging on your every word, and if you had the time, you would have toyed with her for much longer. But you were a busy woman, you had things to do.

Your hand went towards her again, this time aiming lower, much lower than her jaw. Your fingers danced right along the edge of her leotard. It wasn't the most practical for what you were planning, but sometimes style had to be worked around. She took a shaky breath beneath you and almost imperceptibly shifted against your hand, angling for more contact in the subtlest of ways.

With a wolfish grin, you leaned forward and caught Catra's lips roughly. It was a harsh reward for her silence, though you were beginning to consider the noises she could make. Talking, laughing, they were different. You couldn't deny that the smaller, more raspy noises were of interest.

Your fingers traveled upwards in a teasing path. She was warm, and though a layer of fabric was separating the two of you, you could tell she was wet, which meant she had to be soaked. The thought spurred you on as your palm cupped her core, touching but not touching enough to offer any relief.

Prying your lips from hers, you kept your face close in order to watch her as you began to apply pressure through the fabric. She looked up at you with pleading eyes, two colors, both swirling with desperate desire. You studied her hungrily as she began to shift her hips, grinding down against your fingers. You let her if only so you could remind her of her neediness later. 'You were fucking my hand in the hallway like the wanton pussy you are,' you'd say. She would hate it.

Then, that fucking mouth released a shuddering breath that made you less concerned with future repartee. You pushed Catra flat against the wall with your weight. If you were really pinning her, you didn't know, she was stronger than you and you both knew it. Nevertheless, there she was, with your hand rubbing circles over her leotard-clad cunt.

Your lips attached themselves to Catra's neck. At least, you thought, she wasn't completely covered. Though you certainly had grievances with the lack of contact from the clavicle down. Your peer yelped ever so softly as you left a reminder beneath her ear. "And here you are yet again," you teased with a whisper. "Making a scene in the hallway." From the way she whimpered, you knew she felt no shame, or if she did, she was basking in it.

Your fingers moved in rhythm with the needy circles Catra was making with her hips. "What would those recruits say if they came back to find you like this?"

Another whimper fell from her throat as Catra lost her speed, faltering.

"Do you think they'd take orders from you again?" Your tongue traced the outline of her ear. "I bet they'd see this every time you attempted to tell them off. You'd tell them how weak they are and they'd picture you like this, just as fucking helpless."

You could tell by Catra's uncoordinated movements that she was looking for as much friction as possible, chasing an orgasm that was incredibly close. You parted just enough to make eye contact. She panted, uncaring that you saw the effect you had on her. She was past caring about appearances. Good, you thought, you hated having your time wasted.

"Would you like to cum, pussycat?" you patronized. A frantic nod was your only response and it wasn't good enough. "You can speak, you seemed practically thrilled to do so before."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I want to cum."

"Admit that I was right."

The noise she made was a mixture of confusion and sexual frustration. In her search for an orgasm, Catra had forgotten that she'd accused you of being wrong. She'd forgotten what had made you corner her in the first place. She was too caught up in the actuality of the moment. You were rubbing her pussy in a fairly traveled corridor, and she was close. Perhaps it was cruel to expect her to remember anything but her own name. Especially as she began to hold onto your shoulder for support.

Your hand slowed but did not stop. You didn't want to risk losing your place, the goal was to stall the uphill climb indefinitely. Catra had to answer for her insolence, and admit to her miscalculation. It was a fair exchange you felt. Though you could tell that the stubbornness was threatening to derail your plans. Catra, for the briefest of moments, appeared to be considering saying, 'no'. So you preemptively took her jaw with your free hand and made her look in your eyes. You didn't force her eyes open, she did that on her own. And she buckled.

"You were right," she rasped.

"I can give you orders," you said, expecting her to repeat you.

"You can give me orders," she conceded, chest heaving.

"And I can make you do what I want."

"And you," Catra moaned, louder than either of you expected. She was close in a way that was painful, but in the best way, pure electricity was surging through her veins. "You can make me do what you want."

A noise of approval came from deep within your chest. "And now I want you to cum, pussycat." You took her lips once more, allowing her to moan uncontrollably into your mouth as she came. Her thighs could have crushed your fingers, but you didn't care, you kept coaxing sounds out of the brat beneath you. Her moans were higher pitched, like the laugh that grated on your nerves, but it was more like music to your ears. You could hear it over and over.

She rested against the wall, but her nails dug into your uniform. The pleading eyes had shut somewhere along the way. Pulling away you let your tongue linger briefly over Catra's lips. Then, as if you hadn't just engaged in flagrant unprofessionalism, you stood up straight and stepped backward. In your wake, you left a disheveled Horde leader, a shame as her hair had been looking so nice.

"If you see your recruit again, make sure she's looking for my underwear. Won't you?" You didn't wait for an answer, choosing to enjoy the silence you'd earned.