nsfw, light dom/sub, about 1k words. Warnings for age gap (obvs), plus passing reference to mistoriashanks (as per some productions' version of the pas de deux).
@linadoonofficial @mistoffeleeskinnie
“Leave your eyes closed,” Skimbleshanks mused. “You think too much with them open.”
The voice shot like liquid chocolate to the base of Mistoffelees’ spine, and his hips arched up off the armchair without his permission. Skimbleshanks’ fangs snagged against his throat, a sharp thrill of warning, and Mistoffelees dug his fingers into the arms of the chair so hard he could feel it creak.
He was pinned with only one point of contact: Skimbleshanks in his lap, straddling his thighs, and the tantalising promise every moment of something more as Skimbleshanks’ breath ruffled along the fur where his collar should be, setting it tingling and electric.
Mistoffelees still wasn’t sure about this. It was weird. Was it weird? Okay, sure, so he and Munkustrap had... this sort of mentor-with-sometimes-benefits thing... and there had been that one time with Skimbleshanks during the Ball, but everyone knew it didn’t count under the Jellicle moon, and... but Skimbleshanks and Munkustrap had this whole co-protector bond thing where they could practically read each other’s thoughts, the way you only got when you’d been friends for years and years and had grown into being a part of each other, and Mistoffelees was used to being on the outside, he was the quirky little magician that nobody was ever really comfortable around, and he was fine with it, he was. So why did they keep trying to...
“Don’t think about it, Mistoffelees,” Skimbleshanks growled, soft and irresistible in his ear.
… to become a part of him too?
Mistoffelees felt the heat and the weight of Skimbleshanks’ thighs shift on top of him, felt the flex of powerful muscles as Skimbleshanks leaned back; but the husky rumble of Munkustrap’s purr so close still came as a shock.
“You can’t stop this one thinking. You should know that by now, sir.”
“And it seems I can’t make you stay where you’re told.” Mistoffelees could feel the light syrupy vibration of that voice right across his bare thighs where he was pressed in tight, could almost feel the quiver of it in the sensitive flesh right nearby, just where he wasn’t being touched, just where Skimbleshanks’ paws kept promising and never delivering.
Munkustrap chuckled, deep and rich and tender. “I do apologise, sir. But you know me.” There was a pause, minute, a shift of air and the ripple of a sigh. “I like to touch.”
Mistoffelees’ eyes flew open.
Munkustrap’s green-gold eyes glinted at him over Skimbleshanks’ shoulder, just the shade of a smirk. He was looming behind him, broad body pressed against the slender back, framing his orange-gold with dark silver. The hands that Mistoffelees knew so well were running their tantalising course over Skimbleshanks’ sides, down the sharp cut of his hip, up over his belly, just skimming over the first few hairs down there. And then down, dancing light and knowledgeable down over his thigh: brushing where he was pressed against Mistoffelees.
Skimbleshanks’ eyes were pressed shut, like he didn’t trust himself to stay in charge, to stay grounded. Like they were a window onto the core of him, and Munkustrap’s paws could reach right into the centre of that and twist.
Mistoffelees knew the feeling.
“Mistoffelees,” Skimbleshanks rasped, the shreds of his self-control all broken up, and that was definitely hot. “You’ve opened your eyes, haven’t you?”
It was all dire and stern with frustration, and Mistoffelees flashed his teeth right back at Munkustrap’s grin and leaned forward in the chair to cup his paws over Skimbleshanks’ knees, to run them up his thighs to meet Munkustrap’s, to nuzzle his mouth open and hot into orange fur under his chin.
“Yes, sir. Yes, I have. Got a problem with it?”
He stopped thinking. These cats were his. This was theirs.
Skimbleshanks’ throat shivered under his mouth. Then he was moving all in a rush, brutal and efficient and irresistibly strong, shoving Mistoffelees’ arms aside and pushing him up the back of the chair so it stung hot. One forearm shoved in between them and hauled his hips up so Mistoffelees’ legs were crammed into the space between Skimbleshanks and the back of the chair. And then somehow he was sitting across Skimbleshanks, and Mistoffelees was didn’t even care just how he’d done that because, fuck, the slender fussy cat with the odd little vest and bell had just manhandled him like he was some kind of toy.
… Mistoffelees growled and shoved right back down into the paws splayed across his hips, and the throb of Skimbleshanks’ hunger underneath his thighs.
“No,” Skimbleshanks said, voice stern and ragged all at once, eyes locked on Mistoffelees like he held the answer to everything. “No problem. Just a suggestion.”
... Okay. This was probably going to be the most awkwardly positioned fuck ever. Especially given the way Munkustrap’s eyes had gone all hot and dark and he was kissing his way down Skimbleshanks’ arching spine with intent. And the way Skimbleshanks’ paws barely had room to move where they were creeping in to spread Mistoffelees open. And the way Mistoffelees was kind of awkwardly perched with one leg splayed out wide over the arm of the chair and the other one crooked up and jammed into Munkustrap’s shoulder.
He was pretty sure he didn’t care.
“I like your suggestions,” he grinned breathlessly, and lost the end of it on a moan at the tug and shove of slick, determined fingers, and the way Skimbleshanks’ breath went all ragged and wet when Munkustrap reached his goal.
Mistoffelees tipped back his head onto the top of the sofa and just rolled with it.
could I have “I wish I could dance like you.” for the dance prompts with 2019 munkustrap and misto. I just love adorable clumsy misto and kind caring munkustrap ^^
OH HECK YEAH
“I wish I could dance like you.” Misto blurted out. He couldn’t stop himself, staring at Munkustrap as the grey tom practiced in front of him.
Munkustrap smiled warmly at the magical cat. “What do you mean?”
Misto looked down shyly. “You’re so flawless when you dance. You don’t even struggle, and you never lose your footing.” Munkustrap knelt down in front of Misto, taking his paws in his own.
“So? You’re just as graceful when doing your magic.” he replied, and Misto hummed, disbelieving.
“Yeah, but you don’t trip when taking a step forward or when trying to dance.” he shot back, making Munkustrap laugh slightly. “I can’t seem to know my left from my right.” Munkustrap rolled his eyes and poked Misto’s side, making him start. “What was that for?”
The grey tom grinned in amusement. “Don’t talk bad about my mate.” Misto gave him a deadpanned look, making Munkustrap chuckle before poking him again.
“Munk!” Misto yelped, and Munkustrap continued to poke him until Misto dissolved into laughter, wrapping his arms around himself to prevent Munkustrap from touching his sides. “Okay! Okay, I’ll stop!”
Munkustrap wrapped his arms around Misto, hugging him close. “You’re amazing, Misto. Dancing isn’t everything. You’re brilliant and magical, and wonderful.” Misto blushed at the praise. “If you really want me to, I can help you dance, but you’re perfect to me the way you are.” Misto smiled and leaned against Munkustrap, letting out a small sigh.
“Thanks, Munku.” he said softly.
Munkustrap squeezed him and kissed his ear gently. “Anytime, love.”
Привет,я обожаю твои арты 💕. Если ты не против можешь нарисовать лер Рам Там Таггера и лии мистера мистоффелиса из
"мюзикл кошки"? Я просто большая фанатка этого мюзикла. Нарисуй пожалуйста арт где Мистоффелис дуется из-за которого пустяка , а Таггер решил его немного развеселить, и он щекочет ему живот и фыркает. А потом Таггер видя что Мисто улыбается остановился он обнял его и поцеловал в носик.
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