Chapter Text
Adora's drunk. Which is fine, actually. She's an adult, she's allowed to be drunk. She wants to be drunk, even. Makes it harder to think about things. Things with pretty brown hair and freckles and a sweet, squeaky laugh that always makes her smile.
Used to. Used to make her smile.
Fuck.
"Why do I feel so… blaaaah?" She asks, sticking her tongue out to demonstrate her current emotional state. "I thought alcla… alchlon… drinking was supposed to make you feel good."
Bow and Glimmer exchange a look (there they go again, always looking at each other. Adora can look at people too. If she wants to. Which she doesn't). Bow reaches across the table to hold Adora's hand gently. "Alcohol can help lower your inhibitions, but it's also a depressant. If you're already feeling bad you should probably stop—"
Adora grimaces. This is not how she wanted to spend her Saturday night. Glimmer and Bow brought her out here to have a good time. Why is she not having a good time right now?
She downs the rest of her drink in one go and it burns her mouth and throat. She doesn't mind that part at least. Sometimes stuff that hurts can feel kinda nice.
She knows all about wanting things that hurt her.
"Adora!" Glimmer squeaks, snatching the empty glass out of her hand.
"What?" Adora asks, blinking. "Wasn't gonna just waste it…"
Bow sighs, standing. "I'm gonna get you some water and then I think we should call it a night." He turns to Glimmer before he goes. "Keep an eye on her?"
Adora slumps down onto the bar table, resting her chin on the varnished wood. "M' sorry, Glimmer… you and Bow just wanted to have a good time and I messed it all up."
"Adora… you don't have to be sorry, okay? We thought this would help you with your whole… situation, but if it's just making you feel worse than we'd rather be at home with you, anyway." Glimmer tries out an encouraging smile. It's not very good. "We're not gonna let you go through this alone, okay?"
Except, she is alone. That's the whole problem. When she leaves the bar tonight she's gonna be going home to Bow and Glimmer's spare room and a half-unpacked suitcase instead of her nice warm bed full of her nice warm girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. Fuck.
"I just… I don't get it… everything was so good. She was so good, Glimmer. I'd never seen her so happy and I, I thought… that I was the one doing that. Making her happy." Adora doesn't realize she's crying until she tries to breathe in and finds herself sniffling. "I just wanted to make her happy, Glimmer. I, I took, hold on, let me find it—" Adora rummages around in her purse for a moment pulling out the ring she stole from Catra's jewelry box. Glimmer inhales sharply.
"I wanted to know what size to get her… I was gonna ask her right after we graduated and, and, we were gonna move into the city and get a house with a big yard and a tree and we were gonna have a kid and we were gonna be moms together and it was gonna be perfect and—" A sob interrupts her and she has to stop, her whole body shaking with the force of her tears.
Glimmer quickly slides into the seat next to her, putting an arm around her. "It's gonna be okay, Adora. You've got us, and all your other friends too. We're all gonna help you get through this."
"I don't wanna get through this," Adora mutters. "I just wanna go back."
Glimmer runs her hand in small circles on Adora's back. "I know, sweetie. I know."
Adora wants to fall into bed the moment she gets back to Bow and Glimmer's apartment, but her stupid friends insist she drink a bunch of water first. After making her way through the forced hydration gauntlet she stumbles into their guest room, kicking off her shoes and falling face down onto the futon. She's exhausted but can't make herself sleep, not with all the thoughts spinning around in her head.
She thinks about how Catra used to help her out on nights like these, how she was so good at emptying Adora's mind with her fingers and tongue. God, Adora misses that tongue, the way its rough texture would scrape across her skin. She's never going to feel that sensation again, she realizes. She's never met a feline hybrid other than Catra and even if she did she knows it wouldn't be the same.
Nothing would ever be the same.
Still, maybe she can try helping herself out. Her own fingers are thick and clumsy by comparison but there's no harm in trying. She slips her hand under the waistband of her underwear and starts rubbing, gently. She thinks about the way Catra would tease her with a featherlight touch, building her up so slowly over the course of hours until she was begging for it. It was absolute torture but it always made that final release so much sweeter, knowing how hard she worked for it. Knowing she earned it.
That sparks off a whole new series of thoughts and a rush of wetness under her fingers. She loved the way Catra used to take control of her, command and praise her. She used to live for the sound of her lover's voice so low and rasping against her ear, calling her a good girl, telling her she was doing a good job.
Adora needs that right now. More than anything. These past few weeks she's felt so lost, stumbling half-awake through her classes, avoiding her friends as much as possible, unable to find joy in any of her old hobbies or interests. She knows she's spiraling, letting her life slip between her fingers, neglecting and driving away her friends. She's trying but she's so confused and she just needs the one woman she trusts— trusted more than anything to tell her that she's good, that she's doing the right thing and that Catra is proud of her.
It's absolutely pathetic, it's unhealthy, and Adora is so fucking upset that she deleted the voice memo Catra sent her last time they were apart during the winter break. She needs that voice right now.
She knows how she can get it.
Adora doesn't give herself a chance to think about it because she knows if she does she'll find a reason not to and she wants, wants so very badly to do this. She's already dialing Catra before her brain has decided to go through with it.
It's the middle of the night. She's not going to answer.
Except she does. There's a click and then a sleepy "Hello?" and oh, that sound makes Adora's heart soar, and she knows she can't back down from this, not now, she's in too deep and she needs to see this through no matter what.
"Catra. It's me."
There's a lot pause and for a brief, horrible moment Adora thinks she's hung up. But then:
"Hey, Adora."
And fuck if that isn't half of what she needs already. Just hearing her name in that delicious voice is so much better than anything she could have imagined, anything she or anyone else could ever do for her.
"I, uh. I've been thought— shit, uh, I've been thinking about you." Adora stammers, struggling to focus on the words between the haze of alcohol and the growing pleasure between her legs.
"Jesus, Adora, are you drunk?" The disappointment, almost disgust in that question makes Adora want to cry and touch herself harder at the same time. She gives in to the latter.
"I, umm. I had a few. I was trying to stop thinking about you but it, it didn't really work." She has no focus right now, no control, nothing to keep the truth from spilling out.
"Well tough shit, princess. In case you're too plastered to remember, we're not together anymore, so you can think about me on your own time. Goodnight, Adora."
No. No wait. This can't be right. Catra's going to hang up. She can't hang up. Adora isn't anywhere close to finished and she, she needs this.
"Wait!" She cries out, desperation clawing at her throat. "Don't go. Please. Please I just, I need you to keep talking. You can say anything you want to me I just, ah, just talk."
There's a pause again, and Adora is really truly afraid that it's all over now, before Catra speaks, quietly.
"Are you touching yourself right now?"
She doesn't sound upset. She sounds… curious, maybe. Definitely interested. Maybe a little aroused. Perfect.
"Yes."
Adora can hear Catra suck in a breath on the other side of the phone, then a muttered "Fuck," before Catra responds.
"I— we really can't be doing this, Adora. This isn't healthy."
Like Adora doesn't know that. Like she doesn't know that masturbating on the phone with your ex-girlfriend is a terrible idea. She knows, she just doesn't care.
"You don't have to say anything, uh. About it. Just talk to me. I just need to hear your voice. Please." She knows her voice sounds so desperate right now. She knows Catra likes that.
"You are so fucked up, you know that? God, everybody acts like I'm the Big Bad Punk Girl who corrupted you but you are such a little freak, aren't you?" Catra's breath is coming harder now, as she speaks. Adora hopes she's touching herself, too.
"Yes," she replies. "I'm such a, such a fucking slut for your voice. I can't help it, Catra, you make me so fucking wet and I can't stop myself, I don't want to stop myself, I don't care that you hurt me I just need it."
"You really do, don't you?" Catra's voice is growing darker in that intense, wonderful way that means she's craving Adora's submission. This is going so much better than she could have ever hoped. "I wonder what you would do for me, right now, if I asked."
"Anything," Adora whimpers. "Anything you want Catra I need you to tell me what to do I need you to control me I need to be a good girl for you I need it please." She's becoming less and less coherent, she's getting closer to falling apart completely, she just needs a little bit more to get her there.
"Two fingers inside, now," Catra's voice comes across the line saturated with desire. Adora does as she's told, fingers slipping in easily, filling her up the way she needs Catra to be filling her right now. "I want you to fuck yourself on your fingers for me. I want you to think about me touching you while you do it. I want you to say my name when you come."
"Yes!" Adora practically screams, curling her fingers against her front wall and almost losing control right then. "I wanna come I wanna be good—"
"—For me—"
"Yes yes yes for you, always for you only for you I'm yours Catra I'm your girl I'm always gonna be your girl please let me come Catra I wanna come for you again please—"
"Do it. Do it now, I wanna hear you come for me."
"Oh god, Catra, Catra, Catra!" Adora howls as she follows her instructions. Her muscles spasm and she drops her phone, back arching off the futon and her cries dissolving into sharp, quiet whimpers as the pleasure rockets through her, fracturing her mind into tiny, babbling pieces.
She doesn't know how long it is before she comes down enough to realize her phone is on the floor, but she quickly scrambles for it and is relieved to see the call hasn't dropped.
"Catra?" She whispers breathlessly, worried that the spell might be broken somehow.
She hears Catra give a long, shuddering breath on the other end of the line. She recognizes the sound immediately.
"Hey, Adora."
Adora closes her eyes, curls up on herself and holds a pillow to her chest. She wishes Catra were here right now.
"Was it— did I—" somehow, after all of that, Adora is still afraid to ask the question, ask for the one thing she's been craving.
Catra chuckles. "You did. You did such a good job, baby, you did everything I asked. You're such a good girl for me."
Adora whimpers, soft and satisfied, the warm frisson of the praise crawling over her skin. She can feel sleep stealing over her.
"Thank you, mistress." It slips out, thoughtlessly.
"You're welcome, kitten," Catra responds, impossibly gently. "Now go to sleep. Try not to remember this in the morning."
"Mmm… no promises…" Adora mutters as her eyes flutter closed.
Catra doesn't hang up. She waits, listens to the sound of her ex-girlfriend's breathing becoming more regular, waits so much longer than she should. "Adora?" She asks quietly. When she gets no response from the sleeping girl, she takes a deep breath and whispers "I love you," before finally disconnecting the call.