Twelve Days of Monstermas: Day One. (male reindeer cervitaur x reader - NSFW) (Patreon)

Happy Christmas, my dear friends! I hope you like the first of the twelve stories I've got lined up for you! Wishing you the very best today, and you're very much in my thoughts. 

“It’s stupid, and I’m not doing it!” The male voice was a high, husky tenor, and it was alive with indignation. “It’s stereotypical, and exploitative and I resent it! Don’t look at me like that!”

“I’m just saying,” came an answering male voice, “I put on the fake antlers last year and did my bit for the village Christmas fete. You could save them a whole lot of bother and it’d be species accurate! You’ve even got the adorable little white tail and everything.”

“I also resent that,” came the flat response. 

“Can I help?” you chirped in that well-practised ‘sales cheer’ voice, leaning around the massive Christmas tree on the checkout counter to signal that your till was open and free. 

The cervitaur who had been venting his feelings at his friend had the silvery brown cervine body of a reindeer, with appropriately (and adorably disproportionate) large hooves, and the velvety antlers to match. You took in the sight of his thick, dark-rimmed glasses and handsome face, as he drew into sight. He seemed familiar, and you recognised him from his previous shopping trips to the store. This wasn’t the first time you’d admired his slim body and sleek coat either. A very warm looking, pale grey jumper kept his human torso warm, and he also had on a thick, dark red scarf. He also appeared to be in a foul mood this time. Great. The last thing you needed towards the end of your lengthy shift was some shitty customer. Retail really was hell at Christmas. 

But the cervitaur took a deep breath, approached you, and as he reached you, gave you a small, shy smile so sweet that your brain stalled. He was also extraordinarily handsome. His curly hair was the same dusky brown dashed with white as his reindeer coat, looking like he had a permanent dusting of frost atop his head. Protruding from the mass of wavy hair, his antlers were really tall. So tall, in fact, that they tangled instantly with a hanging tendril of crêpe paper from the display, and he froze, panic and shame sweeping across his face while his legs did that adorable Bambi thing that all startled cervitaurs do. His feisty little blond Shetland centaur friend, meanwhile, erupted into a fit of uncontrollable giggles at his predicament, and did nothing whatsoever to free him. He probably couldn’t have reached that high anyway, but still, he made absolutely no effort to ease his friend’s embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry,” you said immediately. The cervitaur began snorting angrily as you hopped up onto the counter, using the additional height to untangle him. “It happened to a big old moose cervitaur the other day as well.” The velvet of his antlers was so unbelievably soft, and you knew that any cervitaur with velvet had sensation in their antlers, so you tried very hard not to let your touch linger, but you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shudder that ran through him when your fingertips touched them. 

“Well I’d have thought you’d have sorted this issue out by now then,” he fired, shuffling his feet beneath him but keeping his head still, “If I’m not the first customer to become entangled.”

“There,” you said. Once you had your feet back on the ground on your side of the counter, you added, “And I did tell my manager, but she said that the decorations are ‘in keeping with the festive spirit and do not explicitly violate health and safety codes’, so… they have to stay. I’m really sorry though.”

He dumped his purchases on the counter, cheeks blazing red, and payed for his groceries in a silent huff. His friend was still wiping the tears from his eyes when they left. He did resume trying to convince him do do whatever it was he’d been on about while they’d been waiting, but clearly this cervitaur had been made to suffer the indignities of ‘Santa's sleigh’ at past Christmases, and was anything but keen to partake in any such activity this year. 

With a sigh, you turned to the next customer, and tried not to watch the clock. 

Eventually, however, your shift ended, and you left the general store and headed out into the cold. Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you made your way under the pretty, sparkling lights of town, scuffing your feet in the light dusting of snow. Your breath fogged the air in front of you, and you laughed as you were forced to scoot to one side of the pavement as two goblin children came pelting down the path, hurling snowballs at each other and duffled up to their long, tapering ears with woollen scarves. One had mottled green and pale grey skin, and the other was a ghostly white, with unusual red eyes. The two children hurtled past you and skidded off round the corner, and a moment later, an exhausted looking female goblin dashed after them, her arms full of shopping bags. 

Silently wishing her success in herding the little pair of terrors back to safety, you crossed the road and headed towards the open air market. It was open late, and in the cold night air, the breath of the shoppers billowed out in little huffing clouds, softening the lights of the market stalls and strings of lights in the trees. For all that your day had been stressful, it made for a peaceful end to the day. 

A deep, booming, familiar laugh snagged your attention and you turned your head to see your good friend Adam standing with a group of others by a chocolate stall. The colossal yeti had white fur and was impossibly fluffy. He wore no clothes save for a slightly-too-small Santa hat, perched atop his head at a jaunty angle. The young moose cervitaur he was talking to glanced up as you approached, and when Adam saw you, he flashed a wide, toothy grin at you. “Hey!” he rumbled. “I’ve not seen you in ages! How are you?”

“Ok,” you said, pulling your chilly hands out of your pockets for a moment so that you could return his leaning hug, at least somewhat. When he straightened, and you had blown the lingering fluff from your mouth, he turned to the moose centaur and introduced her as Renata. The young woman had wildly curly, dark brown hair, and big, dark brown eyes. Her moose body was enormous, and, you noticed as she leaned back to reach for a cup of something from the counter behind her, her human half was equally as muscular underneath her close-fitting black jumper. You swallowed thickly, having always had a bit of a thing for centaurs and cervitaurs of all types. 

When she held out a steaming mug of hot chocolate to you, your eyebrows sailed up in surprise. “You sure?” you asked. 

“On the house,” she grinned. “You look like you could use a pick me up.”

“I could,” you agreed warmly, taking the drink from her and smiling. “Thank you.” As you sipped at the delicious drink, your eyes roamed up to the banner of the stall and you nearly snorted the drink out in amusement when you saw the name of their business. “Of course,” you laughed, and she turned her gaze to see what had tickled you. 

“Oh that,” she said. “Yeah, that was my brother Dan’s idea. He’s the big ‘Chocolate Moose’ himself, after all.” 

From somewhere behind the wooden stall, a deep, male voice called out, “Are you making fun of me in front of customers again, Ren?” and a truly huge moose cervitaur ducked under the little doorway from the back of the stall. 

You recognised him instantly as the one who had become entangled in the decorations in your store before the reindeer cervitaur, and when he saw you he barked a big-hearted laugh. “Come to have another go at lassoing yourself a cervitaur?” he snorted. 

“I’m just here for the chocolate. As long as I get that, the moose are safe,” you grinned. 

“I see, that’s how it is, is it?” he said, folding his arms comically across his massive chest. He was a lot darker than his sister, and the effect would have been menacing were it not for the glorious twinkle in his deep brown eyes. His shoulder length hair was tied back in a little ponytail that bobbed and swayed with his animated hand gestures and body language. 

Before you could throw any more witty retorts at him, a tiny, unbelievably fluffy, and fully transformed werewolf cub bolted across the market place, slipped on a patch of slush, and careered headlong into the base of a stall. As he bounced off it, he began to howl with the infinite distress of a young creature that believes it has just experienced the greatest injustice of its small life. Everyone turned instinctively at the sound, but you were surprised to see the now familiar figure of the reindeer cervitaur passing his bag of shopping to his friend and bending down to pick the cub up to set him back on his feet. The little cub made a grabbing motion at the cervitaur’s back and he shook his head shyly in refusal, one of his velvety ears flicking slightly to show his unease. When the cub began to howl all the louder, the blond centaur dug him in the ribs with an elbow, and, with a roll of his warm brown eyes, the cervitaur placed the little cup on his own back. 

“Hold on tightly now,” he said, and you were relieved to see his friend hold his hands out just in case the exuberant cub should wobble off. Utterly distracted from the shock of his tumble, the little cub sat down on his haunches, tilted his muzzle to the moon, and howled gleefully. 

The reindeer cervitaur shuffled his hooves slightly, clearly uneasy with just the call of a cub, but the moose and his sister laughed heartily at the cub’s antics. A moment later, werewolf with the same colour fur as the little speckled grey cub trotted into the market place and approached the cervitaur. You were too far away to see the conversation, but she was clearly equal parts grateful and embarrassed for her son’s behaviour. 

“Ealjá’s a good guy,” Renata laughed, and as the mother took her wayward cub away by the scruff of his neck, the moose cervitaur hollered, “Eal! C’mere!”

He startled all over again, his big hooves shuffling in the slushy snow, which made his friend laugh, and the pair of them came over, bickering amicably the whole way.

“You know him?” you asked. 

“Most of us local cervitaurs tend to know each other…” Renata grinned. “But yeah… I used to date his sister…” 

As Dan had recognised you on sight, so Ealjá’s face underwent a similar sequence of expressions when he saw you standing with the yeti and two moose cervitaurs. Unlike the large moose, however, he finished up his reaction by blushing a deep crimson. 

“You want to watch yourself with this one, Eal,” Dan chuckled, staring at the way the two of you were looking at each other with matching expressions of mingled amusement and awkwardness. “She’s already tried to lasso herself a cervitaur, but I was too much for her to handle.”

“You too?” he exclaimed. “Those infernal decorations… Nearly lost my antlers to them…!”

“Me too, buddy,” he grinned.

“It really wasn’t my fault!” you protested. “I told my manager what happened first with Dan, but she wouldn’t listen… Frankly, she’s awful. I’m glad I’m not doing this job forever.”

Ealjá’s ears swivelled around with interest. “Oh?” he asked. “You’ve got something else lined up?”

You nodded. “Yup. I’ve got myself a new job in the New Year, but until then, I need something to tide me over, hence…” you gestured over your shoulder in the direction of the general store. 

Dan snorted. “So you keep yourself entertained snagging cervitaurs in the meantime, I suppose.”

“Oh my God,” you whined, “Please will you drop the whole catching a cervitaur thing? Besides, I wanted to do that, I’d be going about it entirely differently!”

Ealjá cocked his head to one side and, at a dig in the ribs from his friend, asked you just how you might go about that. 

With a tiny smile on your lips, you said, “Well, I definitely wouldn’t suggest ice skating… no matter how built for the cold you might be…”

He laughed, a surprisingly high pitched giggle, and you began to see that the grumpy veneer from the shop was precisely that: underneath the awkwardness he was sweet and fun. “Yeah, how about we skip the Bambi references? I’ve already been asked to dress up as Rudolf… That’s enough stereotypes for one day. How about this though: would you agree to come for a walk to see the Christmas lights instead?”

His request surprised you, but you nodded, finished off the small but delicious cup of hot chocolate, and left the others behind you, laughing. As the short Shetland centaur stuck his fingers in his mouth to give an earsplitting whistle and yelled, “Go get ‘em, lover boy!” Ealjá rolled his eyes. 

“Sorry about Mac,” he mumbled. “He’s been at a friend’s birthday party this afternoon, and he’s already had a fair bit of spiced cider.”

“He’s fine,” you laughed. “It’s nice that he cares about you.”

“I’m sorry I was so short with you back in the shop,” he said after a while as you walked through the market, inhaling the spices and scents from the various stalls. 

You waved a hand, the cold air biting into your skin as you freed it from your pocket to do so. “It’s fine. I think I’d be grumpy if I were a cervitaur like you and had been asked to play Rudolf…”

He snorted. “The thing is, I do actually like Christmas. A lot. Like: a lot, a lot. I just… I don’t want to be a stereotype, you know? Like there’s a satyr who works in my department who’s tone deaf and has two left feet - can’t carry a tune with a bucket or dance - but is still constantly told he could if he really wanted to…” He shrugged, and his dark red scar dropped forwards over his shoulder to dangle and flap in the freezing wind. He didn’t seem to notice. He sighed. “I really, really love Christmas, but everyone just thinks it’s super cute or whatever because of my reindeer body…”

You had to smile at him. “Hey, it’s ok,” you said. “I think it’s great that you can rise above the stereotype. Claim it back, you know? It’s fine to love Christmas, but not everyone wants to dress up…”

“Exactly,” he said, and then gasped as you rounded the corner to the square in front of the cathedral. A huge Christmas tree had been set up in front of it, and the lights winked and sparkled in the snow, dancing as the branches shifted in the wind. 

“It’s so beautiful!” you whispered, starting to shiver now. 

“I heard that it took six big centaurs, four minotaurs and a couple of orcs to get it in place,” he murmured. 

“Sounds like a Christmas song…” you giggled, teeth chattering. 

He frowned at the sound, and looked down to see you shaking, your arms crossed protectively over your torso. “Oh gosh,” he said. “You look freezing! Here,” and he unwound his scarf, draping it around your neck and winding it carefully around so that it snugged against your jawline. 

“Thanks,” you smiled. 

“Let me walk you home,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I should have thought. You didn’t have to agree to come on this stupid walk with me,” he went on. “You probably just wanted to get home after your shift…”

“Hey, stop,” you said, grabbing his forearm and squeezing him through the thick knit of his jumper. “I loved it. But yes, I’d like to go inside now, and I’d love for you to walk me home.”

He smiled a little watery smile, and nodded. “Lead the way then.”

You wove through a few backstreets, and came to your small terraced house in a quieter part of town. The traffic and the hiss of tyres in the slush on the roads had dwindled to the dark hush of this part of town, and you noticed how his big, splayed hooves made very little noise as you walked side by side on the pavement. When he saw you looking at them, he frowned, and you giggled nervously. “I was just thinking how much better adapted you are for this weather than me,” you admitted. 

The pavement was slick with winter slush, and you’d already slithered a couple of times, but he’d never even so much as skidded an inch, and as you crossed the icy road towards your house, you did a somewhat spectacular slither. In fact it was so dramatic that he shot out his hands to catch you and keep you from going arse over teakettle in the middle of the road. 

“Thanks!” you panted once he’d let go of you. “Now which one of us deserves the Bambi jokes?”

“I never said a word,” he grinned. 

“You didn’t have to!” you snorted, fishing in your pocket for your house keys. “Would you like to come in?”

He paused. He still had his shopping bag on one arm, and he glanced at it. “I should probably get this home soon…” 

“Oh, ok,” you said, aware of the stinging disappointment in your voice, though you couldn’t have done anything to keep it out. 

“How about I come back though?” he said. “I’ll channel all my innate reindeer magic, and I’ll be back before you’ve even noticed I’m gone…” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Do reindeer really have magic?”

He winked and turned away from you to start heading down the road in the opposite direction. “You’ll have to wait and see!” he called over his shoulder as he broke out into a rather awkward and lumbering trot. 

His absence gave you time to tidy up your house a little, and make it perhaps a little more cervitaur-friendly. There was nothing you could offer him to sit on, all your furniture being build for human-sized bipeds, but you had lots of cushions he could pull onto the floor and sit on. You also wondered what the cervitaur might like to drink, and checked on your stocks of beer and the like. As for snacks, you had loads of those, since your lifestyle wasn’t perhaps the healthiest. 

After faffing around for a good twenty minutes, the realisation hit you that you were still in your grotty work uniform, and that you must look an absolute mess, and you bolted upstairs to change and at the very least wash your face. Just as you finished, the doorbell went, and you took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. This was going more quickly than previous ‘dates’ ever had, but you had a good feeling about Ealjá. Plus he was super cute. 

You opened the door to find him standing there with a big grin on his face, and a bottle of wine in his hands. “I hope you don’t think me too forward,” he said. “And I also hope you actually drink… But it’s fine if you don’t…” He rammed his eyes closed and visibly forced himself to shut up. 

Grinning, you stepped to one side and waved him in. “Yes, I do - drink, that is… I don’t think you’re too forward. I had worried I was the one being forward and inviting you over when we’ve only just met really.”

He stepped carefully inside, wiping his big hooves on your welcome mat until he was sure he wasn’t going to track slushy, wet dirt into your house, and then looked at you. “I don’t suppose you remember, but we have actually spoken before…”

“We have?” you asked, horrified not to have remembered him. 

He grinned and said, “I’d just shed my antlers, so I probably looked a bit different. It was in the shop… I… I reversed into a display and knocked cereal boxes all over the place.”

“Oh my god - I remember that!” you laughed, “That was you?” 

“Yup,” he said, shaking his head. “Not the best thing to admit to on a first date, is it?”

“Hey, I don’t know,” you grinned, taking the proffered bottle from him and beckoning for him to follow you into the small kitchen, “I’m the one who nearly ended up on my arse in the snow today - if anything, it’s me that’s made a tit of themselves…”

“I think we already make a good pair then,” he said. 

And indeed you did. You shared the wine, with him easing his deer’s body down onto some cushions on the floor, while you sat on the sofa. You asked if he wanted to stay for some supper, which he did, so you ordered pizza, which you then ate while watching some terrible Christmas movie. Halfway through, he reached up for you and took your hand gently in his. “Come down and join me?” he asked in a hushed voice. 

Smiling, you slid down next to him, and leaned your weight against his reindeer shoulder and human torso. He settled his arm down around you, and leaned his head to rest atop yours. You could feel his ear flicking and a little while later, you broke your gaze from the screen and looked up at it. 

Bringing your fingers to the velvety fur, you traced a fingertip along the edge of it, and he flicked it again before looking down at you with surprise and then fondness. 

“It’s so soft…” you whispered. “Your antlers too,” you said, running your touch along the base of his nearest antler. 

The shudder that your touch elicited ran right the way through his body. “Yes,” he breathed. 

“Do you mind?” you asked, and he shook his head. 

The atmosphere had changed, becoming charged, and the noise of the film in the background faded as he took your face gently in his palms and asked, “May I kiss you?”

You nodded, breathlessly, and he lowered his lips to yours. At first his kiss was hesitant, almost apprehensive, but when you took his lower lip between your teeth and moaned against him, he shifted his fingers to the back of your head and deepened the kiss. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he rasped, pulling back a moment or two later. He closed his eyes and you saw his hips shuffling where he was lying, and you knew instinctively that he was getting hard. “I’m sorry,” he said, realising where your thoughts had gone. “I… I should… I mean…”

“I want you, Eal,” you said. “It’s alright.”

And with that, his eyes went wide, and he smiled again. His fingers found the hem of your top and he drew it up over your head. When your stomach was exposed to him, he lowered his face and kissed you there, inhaling the scent of your skin in long, luxuriating draws of breath, moaning with each one, peppering you with kisses. “You smell so good,” he hissed. “May I taste you?”

You nodded, feeling a little shy, and he slipped you out of the rest of your clothes. 

The two of you were still on the floor, his cervine legs folded beneath him, his human torso bent over so he could reach you where you now lay on your back, your legs slightly apart, completely naked. 

“Wait,” you gasped, and he drew back instantly, looking concerned. 

“What is it?”

With a smile, you gestured at his jumper. “Your overdressed…”

“Oh,” he said, surprised, and he shyly pulled it up over his head, careful of his antlers. The neck had enough stretch for him to take them through one at a time, but as he moved, the muscles of his lean torso worked, and you stared at his lean body. Where his human torso melted into his cervitaur’s shoulders, the fur was almost white and incredibly fluffy. You sat up and ran your fingers through it, just as he succeeded in freeing himself from his jumper, and he jolted as your fingertips connected with him. 

“You’re so sensitive!” you chuckled. “Are you this sensitive everywhere, I wonder?”

He whimpered and tipped over onto his side, his antlers just missing the coffee table nearby. You knelt beside him and ran your hands over his cervine body, feeling his heartbeat racing and watching his little tail flick back and forth. His cock, you saw, was erect and weeping already, daubing pre-come onto his white belly while his hooves kicked. “Oh that’s so good,” he moaned, “That feels so good…” He seemed drunk on your touch already, his words slurring the more you touched him. 

You grabbed a handful of the hair at the base of his human spine, right at the top of his cervine withers, and he let out a deeply satisfied grunt of pain and pleasure, his cock twitching enthusiastically. 

You rolled him onto his back, mindful of his antlers, and then straddled him, taking each of his cervine forelegs in your hands to steady yourself. With his back to the floor, he looked up at you in wonder, and you knew he couldn’t buck upwards into you. His anatomy just didn’t really move that way, and it was sweet torture for him as you eased yourself slowly back onto him. His cock was huge compared to your body, but you could ride it, letting the slick of his pre-come coat your skin. 

You reached one hand back, still rolling your hips in a slow, regular rhythm, and grasped the base of his shaft firmly. The moment you did, another jolt shot through him and he threw one arm up over his eyes as though embarrassed at the noises he was making. His hind legs stretched out, muscles shaking, as the sensations in his cock seared through his whole body. 

Seeing him like that turned you on in a way you had never expected or experienced, and as you brought him closer and closer, he began to whine and cry out in time to the movements of your hand and hips. 

“I’m so close,” he hissed when you had taken him to a quivering peak of pleasure. “Gods, I’m so close already…”

“Do you want to come?” you asked, reaching your free hand forwards and ruffling the fur of his chest the wrong way and making him shiver all over. His now-free forelegs kicked but missed you, and he cracked an eye open to look up at you. 

“Gods, you look so perfect up there,” he said. “I… Yes… Yes… make me come… please… I -”

He cut off as you slid off him and took his huge cock in both hands, licking a stripe up the underside with your tongue. At the hot wetness of your tongue on his sensitive tip, he gave one final shout and emptied himself all over his belly. Thick ropes of come covered him and his human spine curled inwards, clenching the muscles of his torso until he almost sat upright. With each pulse of his cock he gave another broken cry, as he spilled all over himself. 

The sight of him coming like that almost tipped you over the edge after him, but you stroked him through his intense release, dodging one kick from a wayward hind hoof, until he was clearly too sensitive, and you let him go. 

He lay there, spent and covered in come, for a long time. You trailed your fingers through his clean fur, and then moved up towards his human torso. “Hey,” you murmured once his breathing had returned to a more normal pace. “You alright?”

He nodded. “I don’t think anyone’s ever made me come like that,” he hissed. 

The way he said it made a sudden realisation drop through you. “Eal?” you asked curiously, and he nodded once. “How… How hard is it for a cervitaur or centaur to… you know… take care of themselves?”

“Almost impossible,” he grunted. “I mean, it can be done, but it’s not comfortable.”

“So when was the last time you…?”

“It’s been a while,” he admitted, and then glanced down at the mess he’d made of himself. “Can’t you tell?”

You grinned. “You want to clean up a bit?” 

“Please…”

“Stay there then,” you smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time you returned with a wash cloth and a bowl of warm water, his cock had retreated back into its sheath, but he still lay on his back, looking frankly exhausted. 

You dipped the cloth in the water and began to clean him off. When you were halfway through, he looked up at you with a dizzy, soft look in his eyes, his ears floppy and limp. “You don’t have to…” he said. “I mean…”

You smiled. “I helped make the mess,” you said. 

“Will you let me return the favour now I’ve got my breath back?” he asked. 

“Oh, definitely,” you laughed.

Ealjá chuckled and then gasped as you ran the cloth around the sensitive sheath. “Careful,” he said. “Or you’ll cause trouble all over again…”

“And we wouldn’t want that at all,” you said, voice laced with playful sarcasm. 

“You were going to let me taste you…”

“I got distracted.”

“You get distracted easily,” he retorted. 

“Can you blame me?”

Eal had no reply for that beyond a deep, deep blush. 

You laughed and finished up, returning the bowl to the kitchen for the time being. When you returned this time, he had rolled back onto his front, and was looking at you as though you were the most incredible creature he’d ever seen. “Come here,” he said gently, and drew you down onto the cushions. “Now, where was I?”

Hope you enjoyed the first story! Next up we have a female gargoyle and a male reader tomorrow!