5 of your fav nsfw tropes but for your fav cats ship 👀
I gotta be honest on two fronts. First, I'm still figuring out what nsfw "tropes" are. I have somewhat of an idea, but I don't think I know enough about them to answer the question the best way I can. Second, my favorite ship is Coricojerrie. It's not often that I think of them in an nsfw sense. Regardless, here goes.
I guess, when I think of Coricopat and Mungojerrie getting it on, I think of these things:
~Aftercare/Cuddles
~Clothed or partially-clothed sex. Not as in a quickie, but if they're really lazy or tired when they do it
~Confessions of love either before, during, or after the sex
~First times (I have a specific visual for this.)
~Snow Queens, with Coricopat as the Queen. I don't see him as cold, just more distant (With the metaphor, he wants to melt but needs help doing so)
Most of their sexual encounters start off as nothing more than a giggling play-fight. But it's usually pretty clear to tell where things are heading; especially when the sharp, playful bites become a little gentler, and more sensual.
Jerrie and Teazer's foreplay mostly consists of neck kisses, light tickles, and nuzzling. The tail pulling gets gradually stronger and stronger until Jerrie gets flipped on his back by Teazer - his tail in her mouth - and the two of them have to quickly scramble for some place more discreet to let off the steam they've built up.
This what happens to my brain when a bunch of Non-Binary and Trans Cats fans start lamenting about the over-abundance of boobs, the lack of boobs and the wish for either smaller or larger chests.
Jellicle boobs come out to-night
Jellicle boobs come one come all:
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright—
Jellicles boobs to the Jellicle Ball.
Contains the word boob a lot, as well as references to chest binding and surgery. Full Song of the Jellicle Boobs below:
Jellicle boobs are black and white,
Jellicle boobs are rather small;
Jellicle boobs are heavy and vast,
And pleasant to feel when they get enhanced.
Jellicle boobs have cheerful nipples,
Jellicle chests have dark pink scars;
They like to practise their airs and graces
And wait for the Jellicle Moon to rise.
Jellicle boobs develop slowly,
Jellicle boobs are not too big;
Jellicle boobs are roly-poly,
They know how to dance a gavotte and a jig.
Until the Jellicle Moon appears
We bind down our chests, or fill out our bras.
Jellicle boobs fill out our shirts
Jellicle boobs get squished down.
Jellicle boobs are white and black,
Jellicle boobs are of different size;
Jellicle boobs bounce like a jumping-jack,
Jellicle chests have moonlit scars.
They're light enough in the morning hours,
They're heavy enough in the afternoon,
Reserving their mamary powers
To dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon.
Jellicle boobs are black and white,
Jellicle boobs (as I said) are small;
If it happens to be a stormy night
They will practise a caper or two in the hall.
If it happens the sun is shining bright
You would say they had nothing to do at all:
They are resting and saving themselves to be right
For the Jellicle Moon and the Jellicle Ball.
Pouncival hunkered down where he knelt on the floor with his hands behind his back, his eyes directed firmly to the floor. He heard a deep sigh and footsteps walking away. The door opened. Soft heels clicked into the room. Pouncival caught and held his breath; they didn’t often bring in outside players. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from sneaking a peek. He was in enough trouble.
“Welcome, my Lady.”
“I heard you were having trouble with discipline.”
Her voice slammed a wave of excitement into Pouncival’s stomach. He fought to keep his eyes on the floor. He couldn’t disappoint her.
“He’d been doing so well.” Tumblebrutus’s voice was heavy with disappointment. (And only a shade exaggerated.) “This infraction... Well, it seems that nothing we’ve tried has worked so far. I thought perhaps you could help me.”
“Happy to,” the Lady said. He could hear the smile in her voice. It was not entirely benign. “Sometimes figuring out the proper punishment is the best reward.”
“He’s at your disposal.”
Soft but deliberate steps clicked in Pouncival’s direction drew his attention. His heart pounded in anticipation. Her heels came into his view. A delicate white and red paw tipped his chin up. He sucked in a harsh breath and kept his eyes on her chin, trying not to squirm. A smile crossed her carmine lips.
“Well, at least he hasn’t forgotten everything.”
“He certainly knows better than not to be good for his Lady.”
She traced Pouncival’s lips with red fingertips.
“Don’t worry. We’ll have your best tamed in no time.”
Alonzo floated in the hazy space between waking and sleep, face somewhat smushed into Munkustrap’s chest. It had been a hot night and the sheets were shoved to the foot of the bed. Munkustrap’s legs were tangled with his. His boyfriend’s breathing came evenly but his body, at least, was waking up; their groins pressed together was proof of that. Alonzo allowed himself to come to further awareness.
“‘Straps?” he mumbled.
“Mmmm?”
“Need help with that?”
“Oh, shush,” Munkustrap yawned.
“Just sayin’ I’m awake.”
“Better you’n me.”
Alonzo laughed sleepily. He walked his fingers down Munkustrap’s side. Munkustrap’s sleep-warmed skin shuddered under his touch and he batted sleepily at Alonzo’s shoulder.
“Too early for tickling,” the older man muttered.
“Sorry,” Alonzo said unrepentantly.
Munkustrap rocked his hips grumpily into Alonzo’s, drawing more blood down. Alonzo shifted until their slowly swelling erections nestled against each other.
“Get the lube? Your arms are longer.”
Munkustrap rolled them over. He groped in the bedside table drawer for the small tube, then rolled them back and shoved it into Alonzo’s hand. Alonzo popped the cap and smeared a long line down Munkustrap’s cock.
Munkustrap hissed. “Cold.”
Alonzo snickered. “Poor baby.”
He wrapped his hand around his boyfriend’s cock, cutting off any further grumbling. He stroked slowly, bringing Munkustrap to full attention. Munkustrap moaned sleepily into Alonzo’s ear and took his earlobe between his teeth, tugging on it. Alonzo shivered against him and tried to fit them both into his palm as much as possible. Munkustrap moved to the pulse point behind his jaw, scraping his teeth and sucking blood to the surface. They rocked against each other with more energy, climbing higher towards the peak of their pleasure.
Alonzo opened his eyelids a sliver, wanting to catch Munkustrap’s lips without smashing their noses together. Instead, his gaze landed on the doorway. Munkustrap’s brother stood there, watching with great interest.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Alonzo whined.
“What?”
“Your brother is spying on us.”
“What?” Munkustrap craned his neck to see. “Everlasting, you creep, get out of here!”
Tugger snorted and grinned. “Maybe next time close your door.”
“Trying to get a breeze isn’t an invitation!”
“We could all see you from down the hall, you weirdo.”
Alonzo and Munkustrap froze. They looked at each other. Alonzo lifted his head slowly. “We...?”
“I told you I was having friends over,” Tugger said, spreading his fingers wide.
“Friends?” Munkustrap squeaked, voice strangled and no longer quite so sleepy.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Quaxo will get over the trauma in time.”
“Of for the love of—.”
Tugger backed down the hall, cackling all the way to his own room. His door slammed and locked. Alonzo buried his face in Munkustrap’s chest and gave an exaggerated wail of despair.
“I will never be able to look Quaxo in the face again,” Munkustrap mumbled glumly.
“Rip, your dignity,” Alonzo agreed.
Munkustrap gave a startled laugh and rolled on top of Alonzo. “Well then. Might as well make it worth it.”
They meet under a streetlamp. He is tall and broad and silver; his eyes are kind. She cocks her hip and lifts a challenging eyebrow. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and he draws breath as though he’s going to say something.
She places a finger over his lips. “No introductions.”
Something disappointed flits through his eyes but he nods. She jerks her head at the motel down the street and takes his paw. He twines their fingers, silver fur melding with her gold. As though they should be comfortable with each other. It’s almost corny— she should laugh at him.
She doesn’t.
He books them into a room, shooing her away before she can read his name on the ledger or see how he pays. The cynic in her knows that he’s going to demand some sort of favor. She looks down at her paw, thinks of how he’d twined their fingers, and pushes the cynic aside.
She doesn’t want tonight to be ruined.
He leads her from the elevator to their room. He opens the door, steps aside, and gestures for her to enter. She curls her tail up and lets it trail across his chest as she passes inside. He clears his throat; it sounds like he’s blushing. She strips off her jacket and tosses it onto the requisite motel room chair. When she turns to face him, he’s flushed; the barest hint of pink across the bridge of his nose.
“Don’t look so tense.”
Her teasing breaks the silent anticipation.
He grins sheepishly. “Sorry.”
She closes the distance and works the buttons on his shirt. He watches her fingers descend, eyes darkening. She lets a hint of tongue peek out from between her teeth as she grins. She pulls his shirt from his trousers and steps back. Her fingers tease over the button of her trousers. He squares his shoulders, brushes her arms aside, and opens it for her. His paws linger on the white bib of her abdomen. He looks into her eyes.
“What do you want?’
“What do you want to give me?” she asks. A slow, seductive smile working its way across her lips.
“What would make you most content?”
Her breath catches in her chest. She has... never been asked that. He trails his fingers up her sides, over her shoulders, and cups the back of her neck lightly.
“I want to have sex,” she whispers.
“Okay.”
“Like you mean it.”
He tips her chin up and kisses her softly. His thumb traces the line of her cheek, up to the corner of her eye. Their lips flutter together like ripples on a pond in the rain. When he parts their lips her breath comes heavy. He smiles an impossibly gentle smile. His eyes are soft.
“I can do that.”
He nudges her to the foot of the bed but lets her sit on it and push herself up to the headboard. She kicks out of her trousers and lets them fall to the floor. She parts her legs invitingly (his eyes darken and she shivers) while she watches him undress. He seems to have gained confidence. When he crawls up the bed she can see his muscles shift under his sleek fur, radiating strength.
He inches over her body, nestled between her legs. “Safeword?”
She shakes her head.
“If you want me to stop anything, for any reason, say ‘red’.”
“Red,” she confirms.
He caresses her thighs, kisses the inside of her knee. His fingers brush down to her folds and dip into her. She sighs and rocks onto them. He works into her until she is completely filled. She mewls and grabs a handful of sheets. She submits herself to his teasing. He stokes the fire, bringing her almost to the brink. Then he slips his fingers from her.
She whines in protest, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as he licks himself clean.
He follows the curves of her body and rolls her nipples between his fingers. She arches up, pulling him in by the hips, fitting him into her. She wraps her legs around his waist. He smiles that impossibly gentle smile; the smallest half-turn of lips that softens everything otherwise intimidating about his powerful frame. She loses herself to their movements, to the burning in her stomach and the trembling of her fevered skin. When she convulses around him, he holds her tight until her pieces fit back together. He softens in her but doesn’t move until her shuddering eases and her breathing slows.
He stretches to kiss her softly and grins. “Same time next week?”
Mistoffelees immediately paused time and looked up. Mungojerrie grinned sheepishly at him from where he was stuck hovering in the space between the oven and Old Deuteronomy’s tires. He heaved a sigh as he let Mungojerrie down.
“What are—.”
“No time, she’s right behind me—.”
“Wh—.”
“—into the tires!”
Mungojerrie was quite strong and he regularly hoisted his sister around. To that end, Mistoffelees found himself yanked uncompromisingly into the pile of tires. The sudden change of scenery had him straddling the calico’s lap, staring into his bottle-green eyes. Mistofelees crossed his arms and fought back a smile.
“... Why do I have to be in the tires?”
“‘cause if you weren’t I couldn’t do this,” Mungojerrie said cheerfully.
He took Mistoffelees by his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss that was more enthusiasm than technique. Mistoffelees allowed it for a moment, grinning against warm lips. He nibbled at the calico’s full bottom lip playfully and tugged.
Settle down.
Mungojerrie relinquished control, letting Mistoffelees guide him with a firm paw at his neck. Mistoffelees forcibly slowed the kiss. He teased with near-kittenish laps of his tongue before pulling back to press butterfly touches over Mungojerrie’s mouth.
“D’you really think... she’s not gonna... look for you here?” Mistoffelees murmured between fleeting kisses.
“You’ll just... hafta... protect me.”
Mistoffelees pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “I’d rather be on her good side than yours.”
“Pffft. Rude.”
“I think we’ll just have to be fast.”
Mungojerrie grinned saucily. He rolled Mistoffelees onto his back and surged in for a deep kiss, tracing the bow of the tuxedo’s lips. They parted and he met Mistoffelees’s tongue, warm and wet and sliding against his own. He pushed his thigh between the tuxedo’s legs and rose onto his elbows.
“Best get yourself started.”
“Figures,” Mistoffelees snorted, “Gotta do everything myself.”
He arched up into Mungojerrie, reclaiming his lips. His hips began to rock in short, eager circles against the calico’s thigh. Mungojerrie drew his claws down Mistoffelees’s chest. The tuxedo thrashed and the jerky rolling of his hips quickened. Mungojerrie pulled away from Mistoffelees’s mouth, pressing hot, damp, open-mouthed kisses to the column of his neck. The vibration of the tuxedo’s purring was briefly overtaken by a choked moan.
“Shh!” Mungojerrie hissed.
Mistoffelees stuffed his wrist into his mouth. Mungojerrie kissed the underside of his chin and licked long, wet stripes down his body. He held Mistoffelees’s hips to the ground and resettled between the tuxedo’s legs. He took a moment to admire the way Mistoffelees’s fur sparkled with the aroused discharge of his magic.
“Going in, babe.”
Mistoffelees smacked Mungojerrie’s shoulder with his free paw and canted his hips up. The calico laughed, swooping down to taste Mistoffelees’s arousal. He groaned as he feasted greedily. The tuxedo’s legs draped over Mungojerrie’s shoulders, wrapping behind his head and keeping him pressed in close.
Mungojerrie worked his tongue over Mistoffelees, slurping obscenely until the tuxedo’s breath came in harsh pants. He dragged his tongue and flicked the tip of it against Mistoffelees’s engorged flesh. The tuxedo’s thighs tensed. His hips attempted to rock against Mungojerrie’s face, trembling with increasing desperation.
Mungojerrie redoubled his efforts, plunging his tongue deep into Mistoffelees. Mistoffelees’s claws extended and dug into his shoulder. His hips jerked helplessly as he inched towards the final crest of release, nerves knotted in electric shocks of pleasure. Mungojerrie hummed against him and Mistoffelees let out a shattered cry as he came. The calico carefully withdrew his tongue. He lapped softly as Mistoffelees came down, murmuring soothing nonsense into the silky skin of his inner thigh.
Mistoffelees cracked an eye open. He gasped for breath. His skin quivered, shaking sparks up and down his coat. Mungojerrie crawled up his body and grinned down at him, still licking his lips. He smacked them obnoxiously.
“Delicious.”
Mistoffelees swatted him. “Ugh, don’t be crude.”
“MUNGOJERRIE!”
Mungojerrie cringed. Rumpelteazer perched on top of the tires, glowering down at him. Her brother looked up slowly, as though the longer it took him to see her, the more time he’d have to live.
“Uh... hi, ‘Teazer.”
“Ya quite done?”
“Seems that way.”
Rumpelteazer smiled slowly. “You have five seconds. One.”
Mungojerrie kissed Mistoffelees like he couldn’t help himself. “Sorry babe.”
“Two.”
“Gotta run!” Mungojerrie yelped, disappearing over the pile of tires.
“Lookin’ hot, Misto.” Rumpelteazer grinned. “I’ll try not to maim him too much.”
“Maim away,” Mistoffelees said around a yawn.
She leaped away.
Mistoffelees sighed contentedly. He splayed out, letting his limbs be slack. His eyes slid closed. As long as the twins were out trying to kill each other, a nap was in order.
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