Commission story 8: Merry Fluffmas.

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AN: Before we begin, public service announcement. Did you know that I have a Zootopia/Beastars story now?

It's called Zoostars. Enjoy.

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(Combat engineers December reward)

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Tailchaser.

Fluffhunter.

Poofperv.

If you were a bunny, especially a male bunny, the hips and the tail of does would always hold a certain allure. Big hips were always met with bigs bouts of teenage horniness while, with tails, it was more nuanced.

A large minority of bucks liked a little prim and proper tail, small, well trimmed, flicking instantly back the position if twerked or pulled. Such a tail was considered civilized, something to be appreciated from afar by those with refined tasted.

However, the majority of bucks would rather go bananas for a bountifully bushy, furry, big and fluffy tail. Judy's most outgoing sisters hadn't trimmed theirs for years and, in private, would use curling tongues to make the long hairs spiral and flow into a sensual and visual marvel of pure fluff.

A bunny going after such a tail, drooling and blinkered by its glory, was a stereotype that chatty does gave to all the interested males who didn't take their fancy. They were the ones given such names and Judy, though her relationship affairs were far more limited in nature, had labelled a certain few bucks that. One in particular was a certain cousin by the name of Jack. One day she'd come across his special little trove of computer files, photoshop used to expand the little bit of fluff on the rear of does to, in some cases, gargantuan sizes. He'd had a memory stick of images, ones which she'd summarily and righteously deleted.

Cue what many swore was a bunny death scream later that night and a follow up argument in which Jack had said that she'd submit to the allure of fluff one day; does were most certainly not immune. She'd said that if she ever touched a fluffy tail without permission he could wax strip her own bit of fluff.

She'd been certain she could hold that promise.

She was!

And then she'd discovered fox.

No biggy, but then his winter fluff had come in.

She was screwed. She was so screwed.

Something made worse as she, Nick, Jack and his own foxy girlfriend spend the festive season in an isolated cabin, blankets of soft, fluffy snow fell around, begging her to put her paws in it as if it were fox flu…

No, snap out of it Judy!

They were slowly relaxing down on Christmas Eve, the tree up and the old record of Christmas tracks playing, and Nick was just laying down next to her, his tail…

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no, no…

Like a great fluffy red pillow of clouds, thousands of delightful little red strands, his tail dropped over her lap and she had to hold back with every single fibre in her being. Do not touch. DO NOT TOUCH!

Her paws under her legs to keep them under control, she looked on furiously as Jack runned and rubbed his vixen's furry tail, her ears turning a little red before she settled down and gave his nose a few playful licks. He looked right at her, giving her a look that practically screamed 'I remember Jude the Prude! I'm getting my own back, Fluffhunter!'

No, Judy told herself. Self control. Self control. Resist the bushy red blanket on her lap, just lying there, begging to be…

"Hey Nick," Jack said. "I just remembered we had some blueberry punch. I know an excellent hot mulled recipe for it."

Judy didn't hear what Nick said, instead getting a wagging tail thwacking into her face. Then again, then again, then on and on and on. Her paws came out to stop it at its closest moment only for her to halt them at the last moment.

Not a chance!

She calmed herself, trying to enjoy the brief encounters she had with the fluff, before its motion pulled itself away. She watched as Jack stood up and went over to the small kitchen area, keeping an ever present eye on her. Meanwhile, she was stuck in a predicament. Her own tail would get jelly-beaned if she ever touched Nick's tail without permission.

But with permission?

Fair game.

But how do you ask a fox if you can just touch his tail? Paradoxically, it was far worse than if she'd just stroke it there and then; it would be sending all sorts of weird signals and making her just seem odd, hyper embarrassing. She was not good with this romantic stuff anyway and resorted to grumbling in silence.

Finally, unable to resist the tension anymore, she evacuated the area. A quick walk out, supposedly to the toilet, where she then stripped down, opened the window and then jumped into a snow drift.

A few eyebrows were raised when she finally returned after an unusually long time, going straight for the hot blueberry punch and gulping it down in one swig. She'd cooled down…

Annnddd now she'd seen his giant poof again and was heating right back up. Her buck teeth chewed her bottom lip, Jack looked on knowingly, a big smirk on his face, and Nick relaxed by her. "Hey, Fluff?"

"-Yes," she quipped, snapped to it from being so high strung, her ears then turning red from embarrassment.

"Early present," he said, as he sat up and swooped his tail around, a bow sneakily tied around it. Jack's silent curse went unnoticed as the fox tod spoke. "Don't tell me I haven't seen those goo-goo eyes. You hereby have permission to… YAHHHHH! CALM DOWN JUDY!"

Whatever she tried to say back was muffled by her face full of fox tail, as was pretty much anything she said for the rest of the night.