#foxypeaches

“That happened in first year!” she’d argued. “It doesn’t even matter anymore!”

Catra, the epitome of nonchalance, had been picking at her nails. “Well, if that’s the case, Princess, then you shouldn’t be worried if anyone finds out.”

And Adora had been backed into silence, fuming and steaming, because despite how much she wanted to believe otherwise, she knew that something like that getting out would demolish her chances at becoming a prefect. Something that everyone, Catra in particular, knew that she’d spent most of her time at Hogwarts working towards.

So...yeah. Here she was. Walking the halls with her prefect badge pinned to her robes, keeping a watchful eye for any of the younger students causing havoc where they shouldn’t be.

And following closely behind her were the whispers of how she and Catra, the Slytherin fifth-year prefect, were....dating.

Ugh.

“I don’t know why you want to spread around something like that. Slytherins hate Gryffindors. If you’re trying to boost your reputation, something like this will have the exact opposite effect.”

“Bold of you to assume those were my intentions.”

Catra never divulged exactly what those were either though. Her lips were sealed, locked so tightly that not even the worst of coercion or spells could unlock it. She was planning something, that Adora could be sure of, but unfortunately for all her wits she couldn’t crack the code that was the mechanisms of Catra’s mind. 

So the year ran its course with the two of them pretending to date. Lower years gossiped in the halls in-between classes and Adora even caught her own quidditch teammates tossing about theories and conspiracies when they thought she couldn’t hear.

The only ones that knew the truth were her and Catra. And Bow and Glimmer, of course.

“I don’t understand why you’re letting her push you around like this,” Glimmer lamented each time the topic was brought up. “You deserve being a prefect, no matter what kind of dirt she has on you. Especially when she isn’t that squeaky clean herself.” She was always somehow more annoyed with the situation that Adora was, voicing the frustrations that Adora never could and then some.

Her defense was the same every time, too. “I can’t risk it, Glimmer. If there’s one thing that could get me stripped of my badge, it’s this.” What was the saying about regretting your youthful decisions? Because if there wasn’t one, she could probably easily come up with something. “I’ll just play along for now until she gets bored.”

“Or,” Glimmer rebutted, “You let her drag this on long enough until she achieves whatever it is she’s actually planning. You’re playing with venom here, babe. It’s up to you when you decide to suck it out.”

And she had a point. Without knowing what Catra’s intentions were with this whole thing or anyway of finding out, Adora was essentially a mouse in a mousetrap, waiting for her predator to either free her out of mercy or devour her whole. The longer she played this game, the more she risked losing. She used to assure herself that she’d play the waiting game until Catra either grew bored or until they were graduated, but who was to say that Catra would let her go after that? Who was to say she’d even last that long?

Bow, who was usually quiet during these conversations, only left her with a simple warning, “Be careful around her, Adora. We don’t want you getting hurt.”

So that’s what she was doing. Treading lightly, being mindful not to say anything too combative or instigate something that she can’t maintain a strong hold on.

They had rules, thankfully, from both of them. Rules from Catra to make the whole thing believable, and rules from Adora to make sure they didn’t step too far that she didn’t have any semblance of control. Their affection was public, a demand from Catra, but at Adora’s insistence, it was always chaste and simple. When asked about their relationship, Adora found herself reciting a spiel she’d rehearsed at Catra’s behest, but she was allowed to shut down questions that get too personal or intimate. 

For all the trouble it caused her, Adora had to admit that it could’ve been worse.

Until the night came where Catra broke her number one rule: Absolutely nothing was to happen between them in private. 

It had all started out during one of her nightly patrols. Her back was to a wall - literally - with Catra caging her in, too close for comfort. 

“Wha....what are you doing, Catra? This isn’t even your hall.”

Catra pouted and on the surface it looked almost genuinely hurt. But Adora could see the conniving little gears cranking behind the facade and steeled herself to disallow any notions of sympathy to break down her defenses. “Can’t one girlfriend say hi to the other?”

Adora quickly scanned the hallway they were in - dark and empty. “No one’s here. We don’t have to pretend.”

“Well,” and then Catra leaned in closer, her smirk fatally sweet and oozing venom and Adora could feel the toxins paralyzing her and making her overheat. “You never know who’s watching.”

They both knew very well that no one was. 

“Just what kind of game are you playing at here, huh? Because I didn’t agree to any of this.” Her anger was getting the better of her, pent up from being stuck in a trap she’d slid herself into. But she was tired of being the victim here. “You have no business being here unless it’s for some ulterior motive.”

Catra hummed and tapped the wall beside her head, mulling over her words with a halfhearted consideration. “Yeah, I suppose you might be right about that.” She leaned back, giving enough space between the two again that Adora takes in a gulp of air that she’d been desperately craving. “The game’s gotta change, Princess. Doubts are starting to creep into people’s heads and cheek pecks and hand holding ain’t gonna cut it anymore.”

Dread weighs in Adora’s stomach like lead. “So what are you proposing?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she cursed inwardly, angry with herself for indulging Catra in her sick little fantasy. She wanted out of this, not to let herself be reeled in further. 

She could feel Catra coiling around her, tighter and tighter, cracking her ribs and compressing her lungs as she struggled to breathe.

Adora watched as Catra dragged her tongue along her bottom lip, eyes dropping down from her face. “I was thinking something along the lines of something to show that you’re mine.” Adora shivered at the way that sounded, chalking it up to the ice-laced fear and uncertainty coursing through her veins. 

Catra smirked and met her eyes once more, mirth and secrecy dancing in the piercing colors that kept Adora pinned where she stood. “A necklace, maybe?”

Adora frowned and her shoulders relaxed. That was it? Gift giving? Well, that was manageable, she supposed. “What? To wear around for everyone to see?”

Something flashed in Catra’s eyes and suddenly things weren’t so simple. “Exactly like that.”

Still... “Okay. Fine. Do you have one now?”

Then Catra cackled and a warning ping went off in Adora’s head, something telling her to get out of there. Now. “Oh, sweet, sweet Adora. Not that kind of necklace.” Before Adora could say anything else, Catra’s hand was at the back of her head, gripping her ponytail and yanking it down. At the same time, one of Catra’s hands was yanking at the top of her robes, pulling it away from her neck, just before she descended.

Teeth clamped around supple skin and Adora yelped. Luckily, she still had enough wits about her to quickly bring a hand up to her mouth to muffle her sounds when Catra moved onto the next spot, trailing her tongue across the skin of Adora’s neck and collar before biting down again and sucking.

Her legs were trembling beneath her, breath coming in short spurts as her other hand grabbed at Catra’s robes. She was surprised to realize that instead of trying to pull her off, however, she was instead pulling her closer, body arching to brush against Catra’s. 

It last only a couple minutes. Soon enough, Catra was pulling away from Adora’s neck, admiring her handiwork in the form of a plethora of hickeys and a panting, flushed Adora. Clearly contented, she began to pull back, only to be halted by Adora’s hand still wrapped in the billowing fabric of her robes, pulling her back in. 

Their lips met, rough and Catra’s hot lips searing. Adora could feel the venom pooling in her mouth, coating her tongue with each swipe of Catra’s and trickling down her throat, poisoning her mind, body, and soul with each drop.

When they pull away, Adora no longer knew what to make of anything - up, down; left, right; friend, foe; Slytherin, Gryffindor. 

Catra let out a rush of air that she supposed was supposed to be a laugh, an amused light to her eyes that hinted at something else. Whatever it was, Adora wondered if it reflected the spark that she felt igniting in her own chest, spreading its heat to the bottom of her stomach.

“I think that’ll do for now,” Catra whispered, giving her one last peck on the lips before backing off. Adora watched her saunter off from whence she had come, robes fanning out around her, lips tingling with the phantom sensation of Catra’s pressed against them. 

Her fingers brushed against the sore spots on her neck, feeling the tenderness in a few select spots, as reality began to sink in and she realized just what this meant for tomorrow.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit.

Adora pushed herself away from the wall, standing still a second or two to make sure her legs were steady enough to walk, before drifting down the hall in the opposite direction to finish her rounds.