Catra wants to take it back, wants to snap not like that. Hearing her sob, seeing Adora anguished and broken into pieces, as defeated as she'd been kneeling in the water at Bright Moon, as sad and desperate as she'd been when Catra had pulled the switch to the portal--
It isn't what she wants.
But it's too late now. She can't go back.
Adora's voice says her name, and Catra's eyes slam shut as her throat closes and a silent sob heaves in her chest. She's too vulnerable now, she doesn't have the time to hide in hate and fury to defend herself. She should have known that this would happen, should have known they'd take advantage of her like this to really hone in and learn about the things that make her weak.
Her hands scrabble, scratching across Adora's body to find purchase on her arms, pressing the pads of her fingers in as if it might stop her. She doesn't want to hear the apology, tearing her apart with its remorse. Doesn't want to hear Adora speaking to her like she still cares, doesn't want Adora looking at her like she's something to be pitied. Doesn't want her running her hand up her back, mussing her fur in such an obvious way; assuring her of her presence and surrounding her fully, turning what was once an aggressive position into something more secure and protective. Giving Catra what she's craved since the day Adora took it away from her: a space for her to be safe in, a place for her fragile heart to be cradled and soothed and loved.
It's the kiss to her chest that does it. The tender action pulls the final thread from underneath her, and when those burning layers of passion collapse and fall they do so accompanied by a storm of tears. Her body jerks and shudders, and when she cries out it's wet and choked, the sharp pain of Adora's bite the only thing that breaks through and grounds her in the rush of what is both the most full-body and intense release she's ever had, and the worst.
She curls into and over Adora with it, her arms crossing around her back to cling to her as she gasps into her hair. Her chest shudders with tears as much as it does the raging rush of an orgasm that is not so much pleasurable as it is an unwitting firing of nerves, Catra's mind too drowned in grief to partake. Her hips run of their own accord, bumping off of Adora's one more time before jerking back to press with all of her weight into her thigh, the slickness caught inside her underwear easing the slide as she rocks pathetically against her in a few final movements before juddering and jerking to a stop. And then she's left trembling, pathetic, weak; holding on to her greatest enemy with all the strength that's left in her body, crying choked and ragged tears of pain and yearning into Adora's mussed and harried hair as the last vestiges of this terrible, incredible climax echo through every twitch and tremble of her helpless body.
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It isn't what she wants.
But it's too late now. She can't go back.
Adora's voice says her name, and Catra's eyes slam shut as her throat closes and a silent sob heaves in her chest. She's too vulnerable now, she doesn't have the time to hide in hate and fury to defend herself. She should have known that this would happen, should have known they'd take advantage of her like this to really hone in and learn about the things that make her weak.
Her hands scrabble, scratching across Adora's body to find purchase on her arms, pressing the pads of her fingers in as if it might stop her. She doesn't want to hear the apology, tearing her apart with its remorse. Doesn't want to hear Adora speaking to her like she still cares, doesn't want Adora looking at her like she's something to be pitied. Doesn't want her running her hand up her back, mussing her fur in such an obvious way; assuring her of her presence and surrounding her fully, turning what was once an aggressive position into something more secure and protective. Giving Catra what she's craved since the day Adora took it away from her: a space for her to be safe in, a place for her fragile heart to be cradled and soothed and loved.
It's the kiss to her chest that does it. The tender action pulls the final thread from underneath her, and when those burning layers of passion collapse and fall they do so accompanied by a storm of tears. Her body jerks and shudders, and when she cries out it's wet and choked, the sharp pain of Adora's bite the only thing that breaks through and grounds her in the rush of what is both the most full-body and intense release she's ever had, and the worst.
She curls into and over Adora with it, her arms crossing around her back to cling to her as she gasps into her hair. Her chest shudders with tears as much as it does the raging rush of an orgasm that is not so much pleasurable as it is an unwitting firing of nerves, Catra's mind too drowned in grief to partake. Her hips run of their own accord, bumping off of Adora's one more time before jerking back to press with all of her weight into her thigh, the slickness caught inside her underwear easing the slide as she rocks pathetically against her in a few final movements before juddering and jerking to a stop. And then she's left trembling, pathetic, weak; holding on to her greatest enemy with all the strength that's left in her body, crying choked and ragged tears of pain and yearning into Adora's mussed and harried hair as the last vestiges of this terrible, incredible climax echo through every twitch and tremble of her helpless body.
She's such. A damn. Idiot.