After a bit too much of... something, you went home with one of your friends, a southern panther by the name of Derek. When you wake up, you find a multitude of pleasant surprises to greet you.

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I'll be honest, I just wanted to write some drabbles of my boy, so have this fluff. Please enjoy

Derek belongs to me!

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You felt the sunlight cascading over your face before you actually woke up. The warmth spreading over your skin, blanketing you, light dancing on your eyelids. You hugged the blanket you were holding a little closer as you opened your eyes.

You weren’t in your room, that was for sure. The bed was huge, for starters, and everything smelled vaguely of petrichor. There was a light dappling of rain on the window casting light over you, which might’ve explained it. You sat up, squinting—the window was cracked open just a little bit. You noticed a myriad of potted plants on the floor underneath it, soaking up the sun.

Patting around the sheets, you looked for your phone. You turned and looked at the nightstand, where it was sitting, charging. Picking it up, it told you it was only 11:34 A.M. Not the latest you’d slept in, all things considered.

You looked around a little more, trying to recall the events of last night. You remembered you’d gone somewhere with a few friends, got a little intoxicated… that must’ve been it, because the last thing you remember was collapsing in Derek’s arms just as you were leaving.

It must’ve been his house. The panther was a good friend of yours: you’d known him for a few years, and he was dependable, among many other things. He lived in a house that his mother rented out to him, and she had big money. For all her flaws, she let her son live in relative comfort, which you were grateful for in this moment. You put your phone back on the nightstand as you rubbed your eyes.

Currently, you were just wearing a pair of underwear and a far-too-big shirt that looked more like a nightgown, dangling past the middle of your thighs. You saw your clothes from the night before folded neatly at the foot of the bed, and a pair of different clothes in a folded pile next to it.

Just as you were about to get up fully, you heard the door creak open. You saw the slightest flash of brown hair and black fur as Derek looked through the crack. He did a double take before he actually realized you were up, chuckling as he knocked with a single knuckle.

“Hey, sorry, thought ya were still asleep. Y’alright if I open the door?” his voice was smooth, low, and drawling. It was like listening to the distant rumble of a thunderstorm.

“Yeah, you’re good!” You kept the covers of the bed in your lap as the door creaked open slowly.

The panther ducked into the bedroom fully shirtless, only wearing a pair of jeans and a baseball cap. His hair, as usual, was ruffled and undone, drifting in front of his eyes and obscuring his eyes. He scratched at his stomach idly before putting his hands in his pockets and leaning against the doorframe—at least, to the best of his ability. He must’ve been a full head and a half taller than it.

“Sleep alright?” he turned his head towards the window, and then back to you. “Went out like a light last night.”

“I think I did,” you gently kneaded the covers with your hands as you let your gaze drift over him. “I feel fine, at least. Maybe a little thirsty.”

The panther nodded, his tail swaying slowly behind him. “Gotcha. I’ll keep it in mind.” He stepped off of the doorway, pointing to the pile of new clothes. “I left these in case they fit, thought ya could use something better to wear than these.”

“Are they your clothes?” You looked him up and down quickly—he towered over you, not to mention the rest of him. His chest stuck out like a shelf, his legs were thickened around than your waist… you stopped staring when you heard him chuckle.

“Yeah, they’re mine, jus’ old. I’m sure they’ll fit well ‘nuff.” The panther picked up the pile of your clothes from yesterday, pausing. “You want me to wash these? I didn’t know if you were… particular about your washin’.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Should be fine, I don’t do anything special.”

“Right. Maybe you can wear these again if my clothes are too big for ya.” He turned around and walked towards the door, resting a massive hand on the doorframe as he turned back to you. “I’d stay and chat, but I got breakfast on the stove. Jus’ come out and get it when you want, I’ll be here.”

You stared for a moment at his broad back taking up the entire doorframe, combined with the way he popped one hip while he spoke. His jeans were nearly painted on with how tight they were around his legs and…

“R-right, thanks!” you muttered, turning away to look out the window instead.

Derek gave you a fanged smile before turning. “And, for you, I’ll put a shirt on.”

With that, he closed the door behind him.

You felt your heart racing in your chest; you took a deep breath just to try and settle yourself. You pushed the covers aside, managing to pull yourself out of bed. This seemed to be a guest bedroom, unusually—at least you didn’t have to sleep on the couch.

You walked around the bed, unfolding the pile of Derek’s old clothes he’d left for you. It was an old t-shirt, along with some sweatpants. Both looked fairly well-maintained, and definitely looked far too small for the man who’d just checked in on you. You lifted the shirt and sniffed it—it smelled fine, even a little scented.
Maybe he’d washed them before you woke up?

Regardless, you changed, tossing the baggy shirt you’d slept in onto the bed. Derek’s old clothes fit you better than expected, so you grabbed your phone and headed for the door.

Looking around the room, you took a moment to just let it sink in. The fresh air, the made bed—aside from where you’d just slept—the potted plants at the windows, a small bookshelf at the side… it was all very cozy.

You could already smell something pleasant in the air. It must’ve been the breakfast Derek was making—your first thought was eggs. You left the bedroom and followed the scent.

It didn’t take you long; leaving the bedroom, the rest of the house was fairly small. To your right was a door (the front door, by the looks of it), ahead of you was the kitchen, and to the left was just a living room with a door to the outside. The kitchen was unattended, but you could see a frying pan sitting on the stove.

You barely had time to move before you heard a door slamming shut, followed by the sight of Derek speeding around a corner, shirt halfway over his head. He stopped in front of the stove, yanking it down over himself. When it failed to go over his chest fully, he gave up, letting his chest remain unobstructed as he moved the frying pan off the active burner.

The panther gave a small huff of annoyance as he tugged at his shirt again, managing to fully bring it down this time. His ears tilted and his tail flicked as you came up next to him, leaning against the counter.

“You good?” you asked, eyes drifting to the way his shirt stretched around his chest and how the sleeves were about to pop around his biceps.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,”the panther chuckled, reaching up to grab a couple of plates. “Need to go shoppin’, that’s all. Ain’t been paid in a hot minute, that’s all.”

“Thanks for the clothes.” Your gaze drifted from his arms to the plates as he split the eggs in the pan. “And the food, you really didn’t have to!”

“Relax, sugar, I’m jus’ bein’ nice. It’s how I was raised.” The panther gave you a toothy grin as he handed you a plate of scrambled eggs. “I’ll have bacon in a moment, if you wanna wait.”

You took a sniff of the eggs—they smelled divine. “I’d be glad to, Derek.”

He gave you a light pat on the shoulder, his tail brushing past your ankles as he moved to the fridge just behind you. “Feel free to sit on the couch or at the table, whichever you like.” He opened the fridge and grabbed a wrapped portion of bacon as you moved into the living room. “I’ll be takin’ the couch, if it changes your mind at all.”

You giggled a bit as you moved over to the couch. “Mhm, I’ll think about it.”

Derek chuckled as he set the bacon in the pan, but not before you heard something. It was like claws scrabbling against the hardwood floor—coming from around the corner, a dog bounded over to you, sitting down at your feet as you jumped back.

“Oh, hello there, buddy!” You held your plate of eggs a little higher up, moving around it to try and sit down. “Sorry, I’ve got my hands full.” As you sat down, the dog leapt up and leaned its front legs onto the couch, head level with your plate. You held it over your head with a nervous chuckle.

You saw Derek turn his head ever so slightly over his shoulder, before laughing. “Ay, c’mon Margaret, here girl!” He whistled once, snapped his fingers, and the dog next to you immediately bounded away, moving over to the kitchen. “Good girl, don’t bother our friend for food, yeah? I got plenty for ya.”

“She’s your dog?” you asked, setting your plate of eggs in your lap. It occurred to you that you’d forgotten silverware.

“She’s in my house, she’d better be my dog.” You saw the panther bend down a little, petting Margaret. “She’s nice, won’t eat your food but she’ll ask real nice for it.”

“How kind of her, hehe.” You heard a sizzle as he continued cooking. “Would you mind bringing me a fork, by the way?”

“Yeah, not a worry, jus’ gimme a sec,” the panther said, his voice another rumble as you heard more sizzles from the bacon. “Nearly done in here.”

You relaxed on the couch, pulling your legs up with you as you relaxed. There was an armchair next to you, as well as a coffee table in between them. There was a TV opposite you, propped up on a case holding rows and rows of old video games. You spotted a Wii sitting on its side behind the TV itself.

You heard paws against the hardwood floor again as Margaret walked up to you. Instead of begging, she simply curled up at your feet, rolling over and relaxing. Looking at her a bit closer, she had brown and black and white for her fur colors, brown across her eyes and back, with little bits of black sprinkled in.

“What breed is she, Derek?” you asked as you heard the bacon stop sizzling.

He piled all the bacon onto his plate before turning and moving into the living room. “Oh, Margaret? Australian Shepherd, far as I know. Think she’s a mix of somethin’, though. Gimme your plate.”

You handed him your plate, and he moved a few pieces of bacon from his plate to yours, as well as giving you a fork. “How long have you had her? She doesn’t look too old.”

“She’s turnin’ six this year, last I checked, actually!” The panther squatted down to give her a belly rub—his face was only inches from yours before he stood back up.

“She was a gift from a family friend, and I was just startin’ to live out here on my own. Couldn’t pass it up.”

You took another whiff of your eggs and bacon, still savoring the smell before you actually ate it. “Makes sense. I can imagine it gets pretty lonely out here.”

“Yep. Glad to have someone inside the house so it ain’t just me an’ Crimson.”

“Who’s Crimson?”

“Horse. He lives out in the stables.” Derek sat down in the armchair, before propping his feet up on the coffee table. He was wearing a pair of steel-toed boots, you noticed, with a decent amount of wear. “Y’know, can’t keep a horse in the house, and all.”

The both of you laughed as Derek started to eat his food. You looked at his plate and then yours. The portion sizes were eerily similar. You took a bite of yours before speaking.

“I feel like you have to eat more than me, Derek,” you said, pointing with your fork at his plate. “You’re like three times my size.”

“Of course, yeah. I usually eat three plates of this,” he motioned with his fork as he took another bite, pausing between chewing and talking. “Didn’t want you to wait on me to make all that, though.”

“You—” you sighed, taking another bite of your eggs. “You’re too kind, Derek.”

“Like I said, sugar, I’m just bein’ nice. Thanks for noticin’, though,” the panther put his fork down to raise an arm; he flexed his bicep, the peak raising immensely. You saw a bit of the sleeve tear. “Nice to know my efforts’re makin’ headway.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, with you petting Margaret with your feet as you ate. Derek scrolled through his phone idly for a bit before tossing it onto the coffee table.

“Thanks again for letting me stay,” you muttered, letting your gaze wander freely across him.

The panther nodded, smiling. “Don’t worry about it. I had to make sure you got somewhere safe.”

“Do I, uh… when do I need to be out of here?” you asked, looking around to try and find a clock, absentmindedly searching for the time.

“You can leave whenever you want. I-I mean, jus’ tell me, an’ then I can drive ya home.” He took another huge bite with an awkward smile. “I guess you could walk, but I dunno how far your place is from here.”

“...I think I’ll take the ride.” You laughed, and Derek nodded, his smile turning into more joy than nerves. “I think it’d probably just be easier anyway.”

“Makes good sense to me, sugar.” He picked up the TV remote from the coffee table as he leaned back in his chair. “Y’know, if you’re gonna be a while, you wanna play somethin’? I got Mario Party.”

You looked over at the TV, then back at Derek, and then back to the TV. You leaned forward on the couch, smiling. “You know what? You’re on.”

The panther laughed, the sound like a crashing wave, as he stood up. “Just what I like to hear.”