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Author: Tobias Foxx Title: Breaktime Shorts 10 Part: BTS 10 Summary: A timed writing exercise 'money shot' quickie. Keywords: Furry, nosex, MF, rom 22 min Romance * * *

Stories in this series are simple timed writing exercises. As the series title suggests, they are written during my breaks at work. As such, most will be very short, rushed, and lacking all but the most basic character building. Essentially, they'll mostly be "money shot" quickies. I hope you enjoy them.

• * * The fire crackled and popped as it cast its warm glow over the lapine pair that sat snuggled against one another before it. He sat upright, legs kicked out in front to warm his large paws, black fur glimmering darkly, deep brown eyes staring contemplatively into the flames. She lay against his side, head resting upon his shoulder, floppy ears pulled back in mimicry of a pony tail. The white fur along the main of her body glittered, the light brown splotches scattered here and there taking on an earthier hue. Her gaze was fixed upon the champagne stem held in one hand, watching the bubbles slowly float upwards as they dislodged form the sides of the glass. The remnants of their impromptu picnic lay scattered around them. They were wholly content, full with good food and good company. "Will you marry me?" the male asked in an offhand manner. "Uh-huh, sure," she replied, not quite realizing what he had asked for a moment. "Wait, what?" His eyes turned to meet hers, one blue, one red, entrancing still as the day they had first met. "Will you marry me?" The only thing that belied his true nervousness was the twitching of his long ears. She quirked a brow. "Just like that? That's how you ask me?" "I thought you were a non-traditionalist?" he rebutted with a smirk. She pulled away with her nose in the air and gave a delicate sniff. "In some cases, I do like tradition. Or at least a bit of style." He hugged an arm around her chest, pulling her back to his side. "It's a traditional setting, with the traditional gender roles. And I think a $500 bottle of champagne is pretty stylish, especially on my income." "Why do you want to marry me?" She turned her gaze back to his, inquisitive. "So I can finally get into your pants!" She gave him a playful slap, laughing. "And?" "To make sure no one else does," he added with a soft growl. "Is that the only reason?" Catching her tone, his ears tucked, and he became serious. "You're the most beautiful lop-eared, half-albino, nutjob of a rabbit in the entire world. Smart, funny, loving, tender, and â€"loyal-. I'd be honored to have you as the yang to my yin." "Shouldn't that be the other way around?" "You're the crazy one." She leaned up to give him a kiss. "Ask me again." "Will you marry me?" She turned her nose up once more. "Maybe." "Will you marry me?" "Possibly." She took a sip of her champagne. "Ask me again." With a long-suffering sigh, he released her and shifted to one knee. With the ringbox outheld and open, he tried one last time. "Will you marry me?" She glanced at him sidelong and took another sip then set down the glass. He gave a gasp as she bowled him over. Their bodies melted together as they kissed once more. When she finally came up for air, he asked, "Will you marry me?" "Yes," she replied at last and lay with him, enjoying the warmth and company. Author: Tobias Foxx Title: Breaktime Shorts 11 Part: BTS 11 Summary: A timed writing exercise 'money shot' quickie. Keywords: Furry, nosex 10 min Tension * * *

Stories in this series are simple timed writing exercises. As the series title suggests, they are written during my breaks at work. As such, most will be very short, rushed, and lacking all but the most basic character building. Essentially, they'll mostly be "money shot" quickies. I hope you enjoy them.

• * * Her rabbit half urged her to run. Her feline half urged her to flee. Instead, she stood her ground, facing down the wolf that stood nearly twice her diminutive three-foot height. He towered over her, glaring down with icy blue eyes, the hackles of his mottled brown pelt raised, a low growl rumbling in his throat. Her own ruby red eyes held locked with his, just as fierce, black-furred arms crossed over snowy white chest, ebony paw tapping against the floor. The tension between them was palpable as the large canine took a menacing step forward, using his size in an attempt to cow the smaller hybrid, but she held firm. She could not help the reciprocal lifting of her own hackles nor the lashing of her short, fluffy tail but displayed no other outward sign of discomfit. He took another step, forcing her to crane her neck almost painfully upwards to keep their gazes locked, but she refused to give. At last, he broke their battle of wills, eyes downcast, ears and tail tucking. "Okay, honey," he sighed. "I'll wash the dishes." "Now was that so hard?" she inquired. His only reply was a grunt as he turned toward the sink. She pranced out of the room, swiping a finger against her tongue before marking off another point for herself on an imaginary scoreboard.