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Language:
English
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Published:
2014-06-13
Words:
1,378
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
8
Kudos:
142
Bookmarks:
14
Hits:
2,337

catmura

Summary:

Homura's a cat. Or at least, she has cat ears. She and Madoka have terrible, sexy adventures together.

Notes:

(I don’t know anything about cats in heat, alright. Or writing explicit femslash. I don’t know ANYTHING)

(are they ooc. god help me)(dominant madoka + they're both older)(it's heavy petting because she's a cat, get it)

(a gift for dial) (shakes head)

(I'M SORRY IT'S SO SHORT) (STARES AT WORDCOUNT)

Work Text:

Madoka stands at the door of her apartment — well, their apartment, she remembers with a small grin; she and Homura had only just moved in together, after all.

“Homura, I’m home—“

Madoka had barely closed the door before Homura had jumped her.

“Homura?!” Madoka squawks in surprise. “W-what’s the matter?” Homura was plenty affectionate, but she could usually wait a moment before giving her a “welcome home” hug; now, Homura isn’t quite as collected as she presses herself flush to Madoka’s back, breathes heavily in her ear. 

“Mado…ka…” Homura is practically whining. She buries her face in Madoka’s back. “Madoka…”

Madoka turns slightly in Homura’s arms; not enough to break out of the embrace, but certainly enough to look at the state of her girlfriend.

Homura was flushed, her eyes half-lidded and looking nearly glazed over and her breathing coming in ragged, uneven little jumps. When Madoka turns to look at her she meets her eyes immediately in a look of barely-withheld desire. 

…Well, she also had a small pair of ears twitching faintly between her headband, and a long, thin tail brushing the edges of her skirt.

“Ahh… So that’s it.” Madoka sighs as the realization dawns on her. She smiles, sympathetic. “It’s that time, huh? I’m sure you’ve been very patient waiting for me to get home, right?” 

“Y…es. I was… waiting—” Homura was having enough trouble speaking already; when Madoka moves a hand to stroke at her head between her ears, she nearly moans outright. Madoka giggles, running her fingers along the edges of her ears.

“Really, you’re so…” Madoka smiles wider, giggling to herself. She turns Homura over in her arms; she moves easily in Madoka’s hands, whining pitifully. “It’s always interesting to see you like this… You’re usually so composed, Homura.”

“I can’t help it…” Homura sounds a tiny bit cross; or maybe just frustrated. In more than one sense of the word. She huffs out a breath, burying her head in the crook of Madoka’s neck.

“I know.” Madoka says. And it was true; the heats were unfortunate, but… manageable. Madoka’s gaze moves over Homura’s trembling shoulders, to the tail whisking out from beneath her skirt.

Better to manage it, then — Madoka moves her hands to just lightly tap Homura on the hips. Her touch is light and gentle, but Homura nearly yowls. Madoka watches her for a moment, to confirm for certain that it was definitely not out of pain. If Homura panting like that was any indication, it wasn’t.

“Hmm? That’s some reaction.” Madoka teases, tilting her head. “You’re as sensitive as ever; I barely even touched you.”

“I know you didn’t…” Homura hisses, and it almost sounds like an accusation; at least, as much as Homura was willing to accuse her. Homura is nearly grinding on her leg, pressing Madoka’s back to the door. “Madoka…”

“If you want me to do more than that, you’ll have to ask for it properly.” Madoka smiles wide as she grazes the tips of her fingers lightly, teasingly against the backs of Homura’s thighs; Homura whines and attempts to move into her fingers, but Madoka pulls them away just as quick. “Right? Homura?”

Homura gives her a pitiful, almost distressed look. Despite the cool act, around more… adult fare, she was certainly the more shy. Asking specifically for explicit things was far from her strong point. Madoka was sympathetic, but since Homura had insisted that she liked being teased… she was happy to oblige her.

“I…” Homura hides her head in Madoka’s shoulder, so she doesn’t have to look her in the eye. Her voice is a heated, mewling whimper. “I want you to…” She hesitates. “—touch my ass… Please…”

For a moment, the only sound between them was Homura’s heavy breathing and soft whining as she breathed into Madoka’s chest. Madoka just smiles.

“Of course, Homura.” 

Homura nearly looks up at her, blinking in confusion; but she’s stopped short as Madoka brings her hands down to firmly grope her ass. Homura just about screams; ends up biting her lip in an attempt to quiet herself out of embarrassment. Madoka watches her as she kneads her fingers gently, firmly into Homura’s behind. Both from watching Homura and having her grind on her, heated and needy — Madoka feels a faint blush rise in her face to match Homura’s.

“Calling out like that… You’ll disturb the neighbors, Ho~mu~ra.” Madoka teases, singsong.

Madoka…!” Homura is half complaining, half moaning that name.That’s because you’re—” Her protests are cut short as Madoka moves her fingers against the base of Homura’s tail; not grabbing it yet, only lightly touching. Homura whimpers and moves further into Madoka’s fingers; mercifully, she doesn’t move them away this time.

Madoka doesn’t reply, only giggling a little as she continues groping Homura. She moves one hand, tracing it down Homura’s spine — Homura twitches and bucks into the touch — and again to the base of her tail. Madoka strokes at the soft, downy fur for a moment before winding her fingers around it, once more grabbing firmly. Her other hand continues to caress Homura’s ass; moving across it in firm, even strokes, alternating lighter and harder pressure. 

Homura pants hard, her hands curled into fists against Madoka’s chest. She trembles faintly, moving a hand to her mouth to suppress an especially loud moan as Madoka’s hand brushes the back of her thigh, moving lower. 

Madoka notices, and decides to reassure her. “I’m just kidding. About the neighbors.” She smiles, eyes low as she tilts her head to whisper in Homura’s ear; Homura shudders against her breath. “Be as loud as you want. I want to hear you when you come.”

Homura’s eyes go wide, her breath hitching in her throat. “Madoka…”

Luckily for Madoka, it didn’t take long for her to hear it.

Granted, Madoka flipping Homura over, pressing her lips to the dip of Homura’s neck, and moving her leg to grind between Homura’s thighs — certainly helped.

Homura sinks to the ground, her legs jelly-like and trembling post-orgasm. Madoka sits down with her there in the foyer, pulling Homura loosely into her lap. Madoka strokes at her hair, pressing small kisses to the crown of her hair, her forehead. Homura gazes up at her as she attempts to steady her breathing out. “Madoka…”

Madoka pulls back, for a moment; perhaps Homura needed breathing room? “Yes?”

Homura closes the gap between them in a second, pulling Madoka against her in a hug.

“I love you, Madoka.” She chokes, sounding nearly in tears all of the sudden. Madoka’s face creases in concern. “Please don’t… go anywhere, right now…”

Madoka raises her eyebrows faintly; Homura was rarely so explicit in asking for that kind of thing. She’d spent too long thinking she didn’t deserve people to be by her — Madoka, the least of all — so even if it made her that emotional, at least asking was progress. Homura’s hands tremble as she clutches Madoka tighter to her.

Madoka closes her eyes, smiling as she hugs her back. “Don’t worry; I’m not going anywhere. And…”  She pulls gently Homura out of their embrace, still maintaining the contact while looking her in the eye. Homura looks back at her, in a fragile surprise. Madoka tilts her head to the side, smiling warmly. “I love you too, Homura.”

Even if she was reassured of it frequently, hearing that overwhelms Homura to the point of tears slipping down her cheeks. She blinks, sniffling as Madoka brushes her tears away. “O-…okay…”

“Well! That’s probably enough activity for the hallway, for today.” Madoka smiles, moving to stand. She starts ticking things off on her hands. “Let’s get you changed up, get you some water… or, would you like some cocoa, Homura?” 

Homura blanches, holding her arms in front of her in a distressed gesture.

“Ah… w-wait, Madoka…” She blushes, squirming as she presses her hands flat over her skirt. “I’m… still…”

Madoka only gives her a sweet, knowing smile.

“I know. Don’t worry. After we get you taken care of…” Madoka offers her hand to Homura; she looks up in surprise. “I’ll meet you back in the bedroom, alright?”

After a second’s hesitation, Homura takes her hand. She’s smiling through the flush in her cheeks.

“Yes, Madoka.”