inspired by this tweet 🥰 cheeky deer reader my beloved
deer hybrid!reader deliberately getting caught in hunter!simon's traps just so you can feel his big hands on you as he unties you for the nth time. hearing him grumble silly doe while he carries you to a safe spot in the grass has your little tail swishing excitedly, and when he hisses at you for nuzzling into his neck and licking at his skin, you only let out a soft bleat.
the bloodstained rifle that resides on his back does nothing to deter you from continuously getting yourself into trouble. he's never aimed it in your direction, but you can't help but fantasise about feeling the metal on your forehead when he huffs something along the lines of s'like you want me to kill ya.
you can't help it. he's just so big all over, so strong and capable. you can't help but imagine those hands on your body. you want him stroking your ears, your tail, you want his thick fingers slipping between your thighs... you've seen him in his element, and a sick little part of you wishes he was hunting you instead.
would he be gentle like he always is, or would he let his frustration take over and finally get back at you for being such a little tease? would he push you up against a tree and murmur sweet things in your ear? that voice always makes your skin tingle. no matter what you conjure up in your mind, you always find yourself down by the pond; you can only wash away the need that seems to permanently cling to your skin so many times. you should really stop getting yourself worked up like this.
it's when you actually fall victim to a foothold trap one evening that he finally cracks. being held in his arms while he trudges through the woods down to his truck helps calm you a little bit, but the pain is unbearable. it doesn't help that he's scolding you again, muttering something about just taking you home with him and keeping you there so you're not causing any more trouble.
18+ only. age gap. beefy/with a tummy!price. fem!reader. mw4 price with a beard. caught stealing. hand feeding. finger sucking. drooling. daddy kink. dry humping. mate marking. mark made him buss a nuh.
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Deer hybrid!reader who hums eagerly, tail flickering as you pop another blueberry in your mouth. Dig the pit out of the nth cherry with red stained fingers, discard it at your knees into the growing pile of evidence from your fruit frenzy.
Bleat at the bursts of flavor at your tongue, too distracted with stuffing fruit in your mouth and licking at your fingers that you don’t even hear Farmer!Price who grunts and groans as he hobbles down his back porch. Knees popping as he snatches up a basket for his fruit, striding over to his garden that was small enough to pick himself, but big enough to sell at his stand in town.
Who stiffens when he hears a soft moan, sounds of smacking and humming that he follows around the corner of his blueberries where you’re nestled between the split of his fruit.
Recognizes you from town, all shy and flat-eared when you bought him out of his fruit. Lugged the crates of produce to your car and turned around to see you red faced and breathless like you were the one carrying everything.
“Oi!” He calls gruffly, watches you jump to your feet, eyes wide with panic and locked onto him like he was a pair of headlights. Ears flat and legs wobbly. Knows you’ll sprint if he moves, and with one look at you he doesn’t want that because you’re a cute little thing, lips and fingers all stained and sticky.
You bawl lowly, face flushed with guilt. Fear heavy in your chest as you keep your eyes glued to the mountain of a man in front of you. Trembling at how furious he must be to see someone stealing his fruit that he sells for money. Especially disappointed knowing you were one of his customers.
Always thought he was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen and his delicious fruit was a plus that drove you crazy. Imagined flirting him up when he carried the embarrassing amount of fruit to your car, but having him so close to you always makes your brain short circuit. Never was able to capture his eye, but now you did more so because he wanted to tear his teeth in you for stealing his money. Dread clogging your lungs and suffocating your chest, heartbeat so loud in your ears you almost don’t catch his words.
“You ain’t in trouble, Doe.” He murmurs, does his best to soften his voice so he doesn’t spook you. Low rumble of his words making you shiver, ears darting up to catch the sound. “Don’t have to steal from me neither. Could’ve asked or bought it, greedy thing.” He says pointedly, makes embarrassment coil hot and heavy in your stomach.
Ashamed to admit you’d snuck into his garden plenty of times, but it wasn’t your fault his fruit was better than anything you ever tasted.
Your hands fidget with themselves, relief a ice bucket of water over your head that makes you shudder. Release a shaky exhale of air, calmer now that he’s not angry with you. Something giddy swirling in your chest when you eye his beard, small streak of grey running through the side. “I really am sorry Mr. Price. I just couldn’t wait! Your fruits so good. They’re not like anything I get from the store.” You admit hurriedly, swipe at the stickiness of your face with the back of your hands. Blush at how silly you probably look in front of the older man you admire from afar long before you work up the courage to buy from him.
Prices grin is one full of teeth, frame wide and demeaning, makes him look predatory and while it sends a shiver down your spine, instincts telling you to run, you don’t. Has your tail flickering with excitement.
“Is that right?” He teases with a raise of his eyebrow. Fondness and hunger swirling in his gut at how sweetly you address him. Eyes the way you brush the color of your fingers against your pretty little shorts. Has to simmer down the possessiveness in his chest with a nod of his head toward his cabin. “Can get ya cleaned up inside.” He says gently as he can with broad shoulders and a gruff voice. Clothes dirty and stained with labor, an idea that makes you flush, the heat coiling in your stomach fuels you to nod slowly.
You walk over to him like you were just born, knees still weak under his attentive stare. Enough of a show for him to curl a warm hand around your waist, makes you flinch and tense. Pulls a heavy chuckle from Price that almost makes you trip over your feet.
You shudder at the size of him next to you, head going a little fuzzy when he leads you over to his kitchen sink and tucks himself firmly against your back. Who rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, forearms bulging and covered with dark hair. Takes your hands in his and lathers them up, like you aren’t capable of doing it yourself. Like you need him. Has you shivering, tingles shooting up your spine.
Price rinses one of his hands, flicks the water off before gripping the back of your head and tilting it over the sink so his other soapy, calloused palm can rinse the stickiness off your face. Face blazing so intently you can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. Feel silly like your a bad kid who he needs to take care of after getting yourself in trouble.
But your tail is flickering back and forth so quickly you swear you can feel your hips moving side to side. Shudder at the water that drips down your neck and under your shirt, lips tingling as he passes his large fingers over them.
Swipes the soap off your face before rinsing your hands. Jump when his breath brushes your ears, “Atta girl.” He rumbles, vibration coursing through your back, makes you suck in a shaky breath as he backs off you, whine almost bubbling past your lips at the loss of warmth.
A little mesmerized at how big and rugged he is. Smell of sweat and dirt filling your nose and staying there, shudder at every breath that’s filled with him. Eyes wide and staring up at him as he dries your hands off with a rag, swipes it across your lips and chin with firm concentration. And when he leans down to wipe at the dirt caked on your knees, you bleat, chest warm at the attentiveness in his actions and maybe a little at the sight of his back straining against the material of his flannel.
Fidget with your fingers, face a little warm when Price stands to his full height. Eyes on his chest because looking in his eyes makes your words stuck in your throat. “Thank you, sir.” You murmur, stomach tickling when he scratches at his beard, strike of grey drawing your attention again. “I won’t mess with your garden again. I-I promise.” You murmur, shame coiling in your chest.
Price only stares at you, tilts his head a little to the side. “You still hungry?”
You furrow your brows, figured he would’ve chided you a little bit more not worry about how hungry you were. Let the thought run over your mind. You were starving when you sought out his fruit, could have ate pounds more before he found you. Maybe he was teasing you again, wondering how you could possibly still be hungry after eating so much of his produce.
You chuckle softly, face hot now that you understood what he meant. “No, sir. I think I ate enough.”
But he frowns, shakes his head before yanking back a stool from the counter. Grumbles a sit that you obey as he treads out the back door. Leaves you to daydream of his chest and soft stomach pressing into your back, flatten your flickering tail with embarrassment as Price strides in with a hand full of fruit. Who washes and places them in a bowl, conjures up a sandwich that he slices in two, sprinkles a few chips to go along with it.
Heads out the front door this time with the plate of food, fruit bowl, and a water from the fridge. Comes back and holds the door open with his eyes trained on you, has your spine shooting straight.
“C’mon, Doe.” You jump off the chair and wander onto the front porch you’ve only ever saw from afar. Blush at the thought as Price settles down on a chair with a groan, small table beside him with the food.
A surprised bawl sounds from your throat when he grabs at your waist, settles you on his lap, and tucks you into his side. Furious blush warming your cheeks at the close proximity. But the warmth from his body emitting into your side makes you relax into him. Heavy arm around your back locking you into place against his soft stomach.
“What-“ you start before Price hushes you with a pointed stare. Brings one half of the sandwich to your mouth and pulls it away when you reach for it. Tuck your fidgeting hands between your legs as Price feeds you with a steady gaze.
His palm caressing along your thigh as you finish off your sandwich. Who only speaks when you sit up straight for a sip of water. Rumbles a good girl that forces a soft bleat from you before you can stop it. Who watches the movement of your throat as you swallow and the way you lick yours lips.
And when he reaches for the fruit your tail starts flickering, makes something animalistic burn in his chest. Imagines his hands being the one to make your tail wag like that.
Your mouth waters, parted wide and waiting, drives him crazy, but he doesn’t bring the blueberry to you. Makes you lean for it, doesn’t pop it in your mouth when you hover, but waits for your lips to brush his fingers before he’s satisfied enough to give it to you. Makes something hot coil in your stomach and when Price grabs a cherry he splits it with his teeth, worries with the pit so you don’t have to.
So he can watch how red you get, ears twitching as your eyes track him biting into it and feeding you the rest. Feeds you the same way a few more times before the sight of you eating from his hand so eagerly while your tail wags is too much for him to handle and he just has to pet you.
The brush of his rough hand against your tail makes you jump. Runs a curled finger along the length of it to see you shudder, blush traveling up your ears, and you’re a little more breathless each time you lean forward to his waiting hand. Has you warm and humming enough that the thickness of his fingers makes your mouth water, so when he presents the other half of a cherry and the sweet, red juice coats his fingertips and slides down his finger, you chase after it.
Ears perked and mouth panting as you give a wet, meek lick up his finger until your lips wrap around the cherry and tips of his fingers. Suck it into your mouth and lap at the juice it leaves behind.
Your eyes dart up to Prices, instinctively gauging his reaction while you burn from the inside out at the keen intimacy you felt. His gaze is locked onto you, darting from your lips back to your eyes with intensity that makes you curl into yourself. Face hard and stoic that your ears flatten, tail stilling under his palm, and desire fizzling out in your stomach.
Until his nostrils flare and he sucks in a deep breath. “You’re doing good, Doe.” He rumbles, presses a beard scraping peck to your forehead that makes your tail caress the palm of his hand again. You bleat up at him, noise that makes something soft punch at his gut and his rough palm lifts to pet at your ears before falling to grasp at your waist.
Price picks at more fruit that you keenly lick into your mouth. A little embarrassed about how your soft, tentative licks turn sloppy. More about feeling how rough Prices fingers are against your tongue than eating the fruit.
Something hot and all consuming dulling your senses when you grip at Prices wrist to stop him from grabbing another meaningless piece of fruit. Not that you really were strong enough to stop him from doing anything, but Price didn’t mind letting the cute doe self-delivered right into his backyard go a little silly with indulging herself on his fingers.
Not when you’re perched on his lap in those little shorts, tail peaking out and wagging nonstop, ears twitching and eyes so wide and shy that looking down at you lick a stripe up his pointer finger nearly makes him drag you inside so he can pin you down with the bulge of his stomach and rut his cock into you.
Opts to coo softly down at you, presses a kiss to your forehead and noses at your hairline. “You ‘n that mouth always gettin’ you in trouble. Hungry thing.” Price groans hoarsely, leaning back to pet at your head and comb his fingers through your hair. You whine softly, quivering under Prices palm that grips you firmly by the nape, makes you still as he works a finger into your mouth. Figured your precious little licks worked you up enough to move on to something better.
Your mouth waters, humming lowly around Prices finger. Faintly taste the sweetness from the fruit he was feeding you as you wrap your lips around him. Gag forcing itself up your throat when Price thrust his finger in, makes you jerk back and away from him.
Embarrassment blooming across your cheeks when you glance up at him with worry. Afraid you had disappointed him or ruined the moment by making such an awful noise. But Prices cock twitch’s at the sound, all chubbed up and aching against your leg.
Murmurs softly down at you with that cute little pout while his imagination runs wild about how your gag would feel around his cock. Thumb rubbing along the side of your neck. “No worries, baby. You’ll get better. I’ll teach you.”
You shudder and nod with a soft okay, suck Prices finger back in your mouth when he brushes it along your lips.
“Breathe through your nose, Doe.” He croaks, firm grip in your hair so you don’t move too fast. Bobs your head until you swallow his fingers down, eyes watering as you gulp in deep breaths to hold your gag back.
Once you find a rhythm, a groan bubbles in Prices chest. Watches how eagerly you suck and bob on his finger. Fit another finger in on your own accord that has moans and whimpers falling past your lips after the throbs between your legs radiate up your spine.
Prices eyes flutter shut, hum vibrating his chest at just the feel and sound of you working at his fingers. “Fuck, Doe.” He rumbles, eyes reopening to find drool slipping down your chin.
“Messy girl.” He rasps, guiding your head away from his finger to fit his lips against yours. Doesn’t want to waste the use of them with his finger. Tongue laving at your chin before thrusting in your mouth.
Prices kiss is sloppy, fueled by the saliva coating your lips that he figured you wouldn’t mind if he replaced with his own. More tongue than lips since you were always looking to fill your mouth with something of his.
You keen lowly, shuddering at the feel of his beard nuzzling into your face. Your own tongue getting a taste of his fur each time you slip it out to taste his tongue. Hands curling into the hair on his forearms and you imagine he’s an apex predator that could eat you whole, has goosebumps covering your skin.
His meaty paws grab at your hips, settles you down around his thigh and hooks his fingers in the hoops of your shorts. Needs good leverage for when he makes you fuck his thigh.
You whine at the pressure against your pussy, heat blooming in your stomach when you lean onto him. Bleat at the feel of him pressed into you.
Price swallows the noise wth a grunt, groaning at your tits smashed into his chest. Can practically feel you buzzing, hips squirming, and tail wagging so quickly he grins into your mouth. Gives you a deep kiss that makes him wrap an arm around your back, leaves it weighing heavy along your tail so you moan loudly before he pulls away.
Licks his lips at the sight of you so disheveled. Pupils blown, lips swollen, and panting so heavily that you’re a little lightheaded. The smirk on his face makes you whimper, but the glisten of both your spit in his beard is what really gets you. Makes you bleat, throb growing tenfold as you arch into his palm that falls to cup your ass.
“Price.” You whine, formality out the window now that things took a different turn. Face blazing as your hands trail up the pudge of his stomach nestled against yours to rest at his chest.
His eyes are unwavering and hungry as he slowly shakes his head. “Call me Daddy, baby. Can you do that f’me?” He whispers hoarsely. The word lights a fire underneath you, makes you breathless as a chirp bubbles in the back of your throat.
“Yes, Daddy.” You murmur softly, eyes darting around as a blush blooms over your face and to the tips of your ears.
“Atta girl.” Price coos and presses kisses along your cheek. Rubs a hand up and down your thigh to cool the blush from your face. Fits your lips together again because he knows you’ll be a little too shy to grind your hips if you’re not wound up.
Doesn’t take you long to start whimpering and whining, sending licks across the grey patch on Prices chin. He humors you by letting you take the reins, ravage his lips so when he hikes up your shorts you only keen. Feel the seam dig into your cunt and drag along your clit, has your hips jerking into his leg and Price coaxes you to keep moving with a firm grip on your waist.
Price moans lowly, can’t help the palm that squeezes between you to palm at his cock. Squeezes and adjust himself to probe at your leg, wants you to feel it while you hump against him.
You bleat, breaths stuttering at the pleasure coiling in your hips. Claw at his chest when your rhythm turns jerky. Price nips at your lips, feeds you his tongue as you lurch against him. Quivering and squirming so much that he locks an arm around your back to plant you firmly against his chest.
You pull from his lips to gulp in deep breaths, face flush and ears twitching as your hips grind your clit down. Pressure sending zips up your spine until your mind is fuzzy and you’re staring at Price with glazed eyes. Feels like your body was on fire and it takes seconds for your body to catch up with itself from how fast your heart is hammering and lungs gasping.
Nipples hard and tingly, sending electricity down to your clit with every jerk of your hips that sends you rubbing into Price. Feel your cunt throbbing slick onto your panties, coating your clit and making the friction from your panties and shorts overstimulate you.
Price clench’s his jaw, drinking in the desperate expressions flashing across your face. Trails a hand to engulf your tail and groans at the cry you let out.
“Daddy!”
“Mhm, let me hear you, Doe. You like Daddy playin’ with your tail while you hump me?” He rasps, threading his fingers through your fur.
You squeal, hips stuttering. “Yes, Daddy. Please- don’t stop.” You gasp, sweating coating your forehead. Wind blowing over you both and making goosebumps litter your skin.
You claw at his meaty arms, rutting into the softness of his stomach as he spilts his fingers around the base of your tail that send sparks of white across your vision. Nuzzle your cheeks into the fur of his face when you feel his cock nudging into you. Jaw quivering when you imagine him splitting you open on it.
Price drips his head down to your neck, swipes his beard along your shoulder because he knows you love the feel of it. Hears you chirp and whimper into his ear, makes him gnaw at your soft and sweet smelling skin. Lave up your sweat so the canvas is clear when he litters you with marks.
Your mouth waters, vision splotchy and body humming when your mouth aches to be filled. Settles to lick and suck at Prices ear that rewards you with a rough groan. Mirror his teeth at his neck because the idea of you having matching marks makes your chest flutter.
He strokes your tail in his palm, tightens his hold on your back so your thrusts turn short and harsh. Work harder to chase the orgasm ringing in your ears.
Prices hips jerk, cock soaking his boxers and finding pressure in the movement of your leg. Your hot breaths and lips nursing at his neck make his balls pulse and ache, muffle his breathless grunts into your neck.
You soak in the smell of sweat and dirt at his nape, nuzzle your face into it so you’re coated with his scent. Lick long, sloppy strokes at the spot you want to mark. Feel the call heavy and aching in your teeth that his strokes on your tail, smash of your clit into his leg, and his nips on your neck cloud your brain with only him. Makes your hips lock, white exploding behind your eyes as your orgasm crashes into you. Loud moans and bleats echoing around the porch as you cry out.
“Cumming, Daddy!” You keen, whines muffled when you clamp down on his neck.
Leaky head of Prices cock knocking into your thigh, lock of your teeth making a punch of pleasure punch into his gut. Pull his balls taunt as ropes of cum paints his boxers.
“Fuckk.” He stutters, arms tightening around you. “Cum with Daddy, Doe.” He croaks, choking up at how easy you made him cum.
Buzz of pleasure soft pulses down your spine, and when you pull from his neck, drool connecting your lips to him, satisfaction warms your chest at the mark of your teeth.
Price hums lowly into your ear, trailing and nuzzling his nose up to your crown. Surprise still lingering at the back of his mind at how he came in his pants, but the call to coax you down from your high brushed it back.
Racked his palms up your sides and planted scratchy kisses over your cheek and forehead. Cupped your face and cooed down at the soft, shy expression covering your face. Could still see the pleasure singing in your hooded eyes.
“Did so good f’Daddy, baby, yeah? Good little doe.” He murmurs, petting at your ears. You bleat softly, eyes darting back to the mark at his neck. Possessiveness a warm ball at your chest.
A sly grin tugging at Prices lips when he gives you chaste kiss to your swollen lips. Doesn’t plan on letting you slip from his grasp. “Have ta teach your hungry mouth how to take my cock next time. Think you’re ready f’that, baby?”
Your tail sings. And with the mark on his neck, you’d have time for anything. “Yes, Daddy.”
I know this kinda sounds stupid- but can you do a feral deer reader who was found by the task force? The reader has some magical healing abilities, so she ended up captured and hired as a medic. Since the reader never really communicated with humans/ other hybrids and was mostly by herself, she doesn't understand social stuff. For example, she can be convinced that getting groped is a greeting, and she'll agree since she never interacted with other hybrids before. So she's pretty much oblivious.
If possible- make her a bit fluffy? 👉👈
I’m going to make this the continuation to Doe because I can!! Muhahahahahah!!!!!! ψ(｀∇´)ψ
Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, non-con touching, magic, hybrid, groping, tell me if I missed any.
You were introduced to Laswell after the mission, dressed in better clothing than the tattered dress you wore, antlers cleaned from all the leaves and officially claimed by the Task Force, you found a place in their group. Going through a few rough patches and scuffles to get you out of your home, they watched you tend to your wounds, your hands glowing over the scrapes and tongue lapping at your bleeding fingers. Your… ability was the driving nail that forced Laswell to bend to their words, she’d been hounding them to get a medic or someone with better medical knowledge than the four of them combined.
After all the paperwork and sweat, Price had the honour of locking the pretty collar they team bought you around your neck, the insignia gleaming under the office light was the final step to bind you to them as your handlers, a poor and fragile, little deer they saved from the freezing Canadian wilderness. But in all honesty, all they did was separate you from your herd, the warmer spring announcing the end of your antlers and the growth of a new set, it made frolicking and dancing easier than winter did. You were plucked from everything you knew, ripped from your lush forest and livelihood where you watched over the fauna and little critters that came to you for healing, and forcefully placed in a dead and unfeeling world where grey buildings towered over the forests and life restrained to small patches of dying soil. It made you uncomfortable, but the binding words the four men - human men - and the nice but stoic lady (she looked so tired, it made your hands itch to soothe her aches) shared with you made it seem like it was impossible for you to return to your home.
“This is your new home, sweetheart,” the bear-like man said, his gruff voice and imposing figure had you shuddering in your seat, much more than the energetic man with electric, blue eyes that you then learned was Soap.
You wanted to argue, but your voice died in your throat when they all stared at you with dark and expectant eyes, seemingly anticipating submission and obedience from you as a deer. How could you fight when they held such an oppressive air around them, but perhaps it was just their broad and muscular bodies that made your nerves bristle; perhaps they were nicer than they looked, gentler and tender like the way that man with brown eyes held you in the metal bird, whispering sweet and comforting words; or perhaps they were truly mean and dominating, like some pack of wolves that shared your home. You hoped they were as nice as the Gaz, who made you call him by his… real name? You were confused, but you did as he asked, calling him Kyle unlike the other men.
You gave Price a muted nod, eyes cast down and fingers scratching and pulling at your restrictive clothes, feeling too covered and your skin too sensitive by all the irritating fabrics and silks. It hadn’t taken them much time to intergrate you in their schedule, finding you a place in their group to stare at and work despite your clear confusion about the social norms and your sudden duty. The human world was a stranger to you, foreign acts and alien words that you needed help with: you could read some words while others were completely incomprehensible for your feral mind, or your confusion about the use for phones and anything too advanced had you fumbling with your words.
It’s good that you had them to help you, no?
Price made you attend classes with him and Ghost, being taught the alphabet and complicated words after the training drills and morning rituals, sometimes seated between them, squeezed so tightly between their broad shoulders, and other times seated on their laps, their shadow looming over you when they bent over to show you something. They touched you a lot, Ghost having less restraint than his Captain, his rough, gloveless fingers sliding beneath your shirt and groping the softness of your stomach and kneading your breasts, feeling its weight and perky nipples. You squirmed on his lap, whined out your discomfort, used to physical interaction in your herd, but never something so forward, but Ghost had reassured you that this was a normal human behaviour towards someone they cared deeply for.
Price kept his to your stomach and ass, feeling the fat of your cheeks and occasionally standing a hit, drinking in your yelps and whimpers from his touches. He, alike Ghost did, assured you that it was normal that he hooked his arm around your hip and holding you flushed to his side, his musky scent wafting around you like a thick cloud of smoke. He ruffled your hair once your antlers fell, petting you like he would a dog, carding through your washed locks and chuckling when your ears twitched from being handled. He would often call you to his office at random times, allegedly wanting you to train healing them since humans were slightly different than hybrids and having you lick his paper cut with your pink tongue. He liked shoving two fingers down your throat and pumping until you gagged and choked, drooling down his wrist while he breathed heavily and palmed himself.
Gaz and Soap helped you with other things: understanding human behaviour, training you mind and body and helping you around the base when you were lost and disoriented. Both men were enthused to be your chaperone, excited to take part in your schooling in other ways. Gaz lead you around the base hand in hand, his fingers intertwined with yours in a strong and unmoving grip while he pulled you forward, your tail flicking anxiously when people gazed your way, their eyes probing your uniform-clad figure. He was more upfront than the older men, pulling you to his chest and cuddling you in public areas, the bigger rec room, the mess hall or the gym, nuzzling the crook of your neck, lips drawling pretty words on your throat and shoulder and hair tickling your skin, mumbling the sweetest praises despite your obvious stiffness.
Soap, not unlike Gaz, had you call him Johnny (Ghost called him that too, you quickly found out) and was the touchiest of the four, always placing a hand on you even in awkward and weird situations. Soap was more animalistic than the others, panting and huffing when he spent too long around you, rutting your thigh like a wolf in rut or another reindeer deep in the season, you were quite sure this one wasn’t that much of a norm, seeing people avert their eyes or Ghost scruffing Soap and hissing degrading words. He especially loved sparring with you, pinning you on the mat, hand wrapped around your nap and putting his weight on your struggling body. He’d grind his hard bulge against your ass, ignoring your cries and whines, happily huffing and groaning in your ear while Gaz and Ghost watched on, admiring the sight, a pretty and vulnerable deer with little stubs and flickering ears, writhing under the mutt of the Task Force.
Even if your initial use was for healing wounds and supporting the team, they found a secondary task for you in all the chaos and caution, to help you open up to them faster and easier. It’d only take a few kisses, cuddling and sessions until you grow attune and accept your new home.
natsuo with a chubby deer gf, who looks at him with literal doe eyes, ears always flopping down when she's embarrassed, her little nose and tail twitching when he's got his hand on her lower back 🥺🥺🥺
Another deer!hybrid reader x Simon please..recently came into your first post about it again and it’s been on my mind 🙏🙏🙏
here’s more hunter!ghost and deer hybrid! reader :3 | part one
true to his word, simon keeps you with him at home. it's a bit awkward given that he doesn't really speak to you other than a gruff keep still while checking on your injuries, but once you accept the fact that you're making conversation with a brick wall most of the time, you're just happy to be there with him. his cabin's pretty cosy, the bed much warmer and more comfortable than the pile of leaves you occupy. the food's not bad either, although you did refuse to eat the meat he had placed on the table the first couple of nights. you preferred your simple diet of greens, fruits, and nuts, but you begrudgingly gave in when he cooked up some fish for you.
even when you're all healed up, he doesn't explicitly tell you to get out, and you take full advantage of that. wearing his clothes, slumbering in the sweet little garden he has at the back, curling up against him at night. he may grunt and act annoyed whenever you drape yourself on top of him and snooze away, but the arm wrapped tight around your body says otherwise.
however, that's where he draws the line at touching you, and you're beginning to get a little restless. you thought feeling his hand rub up and down your back would've been enough to soothe the heat prickling all over your skin; the soft pats on your head and gentle strokes on your excited little tail should have satisfied your need for affection.
yet here you are, face hidden in the crook of his neck as you rock against the thick thigh between your legs. you just can't help yourself, can't quell the urge to get on all fours and present. he's just right there, so big and warm, encompassing you from all sides; it's impossible to escape his heady, musky scent. maybe you should feel embarrassed about being so desperate, but he's ignored so many of your subtle signs. it's impossible to play coy when you're sprawled out on top of him like this.
simon swirls his glass, the taste of bourbon and want heavy on his tongue. such a pretty sight you make, his favourite headache shamelessly whimpering and getting off on top of him. when you whine for something more, something better, he only shushes you and places a supportive hand on your lower back, urging you to carry on. this is for him, doe; after all that shit he's put up with, he's earned the right to play with you.
18+ only. fem!reader. licking his print. boot humping. finger fucking throat. manhandling. slapping. humiliation kink. degradation kink. fear play. slight bondage. gun play kinda I think. dom/sub I think. predator/prey.
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Deer hybrid!reader who bawls with panic, chest thundering with hurried breathes and quick heart beats as you rush through blurring trees. Air sharp against your face and burning your throat. Hunter!Simon who snarls when he sees you, pulls his rifle off his back, ready to put a bullet through that pretty little head for making him run so much.
You trip like the pathetic thing that you are, scramble to your knees when Simon nears. Vapor shooting from his flaring nose, quick and sharp with furious exhales. Like a raging bull, makes you shudder.
The metal pressed to your forehead pulls a bleat from you. Tail flickering quickly when you gaze up at his demeaning figure. Euphoria washes over you, thrill of the chase and being caught. Has you keening when your eyes meet his over the gun that he has pressed to you.
Simon grunts at the glimmer lacing those precious cock hungry doe eyes that drive him crazy. “Caught you, silly doe.” He hisses through clenched teeth. Irritation a growing speck at the back of his mind from your little games. You mewl with a quiver, hips squirming in their spot. Caught by the predator, makes you gush with slick.
“Love that I control if you live or die, huh? Ain’t got no instincts, stupid deer.” He groans, catches your jaw, shoves thick fingers past your lips. Makes you gag around them as he fucks your throat. Smears the saliva across your face before smashing your check against his cock. So big and hard through his dirt stained jeans, that you feel him throb against your lips as you mouth over his print.
Simon pets your ears at the top of your head, tugs at one to hear you whine. “Dirty little doe, loves being good prey f’me to catch.”
You drool all over his front, tongue scraping against the harsh material that keeps you from his delicious musk. Slam your hips into his boot to stimulate your achy clit, eyes rolling and pathetic bleat muffled against his bulge, makes him seethe when you start humping frantically.
Simon yanks you off by your hair, makes you squeal and hands fumble at his wrist to give your scalp relief. He swings his rifle onto his back, gives you a sharp slap to your cheek. Face freezing with the cool air only making the sting of his palm to your cheek bring tears to your eyes.
Simon scoffs. “Good f’nothing deer. Too desperate, ain’t worth much.” He mocks, leans down to cup your blistering pussy, keen at the pleasure his palm brings. He hums a low grunt, pulls rope from his pants to fasten around your wrists. “Might be worth setting straight. Teach ya a lesson or two about making me run in circles. Use that hot cunt for what it’s made for.”
A soft hum vibrates from your chest, tail flickering and ears twitching at the mean look in his eyes. Can’t wait for him to lay his hands on you. Like always, Simon hauls you over his shoulder, walk home sure to make you whiny and needy as your pussy begs for more like always.
He slams a rough palm down on your ass, grins when you squeal, whine trailing softly after and normally he’d wait for his hands to tease you in bed, but his calloused fingers slip between your thigh to rub at your clit.
Let your cries ring through the woods, so you’re all whiny and needy when he stuffs you full of his cock.
more deer hybrid!reader if you even care 🙈 | part one | part two (abrupt ending, f!reader, 18+)
simon avoids properly fucking you at first.
instead, he makes you wait for it, taking you apart with his hands and his tongue until the breathiest whimpers are leaving your spit-slick lips and your pussy’s throbbing pleasantly for more. gotta discipline you, doe, is his reason, when you both know that lessons do not stick well in that silly little head of yours.
when he finally has you on your back, sweet cunt slicking his cock with each glide he makes between your folds, he almost busts right there. he’ll never get tired of staring at the silky patch of hair that covers your pussy or the way your hips move, so clumsy and needy. olways fuckin’ desperate for somethin’.
“i’ve got ya,” he murmurs, reaching over to pet one of your twitchy ears, but it’s so hard to stay still and obedient when you’ve spent so many nights going cross-eyed dreaming about this moment. you’re able to suck just the tip in, so soft and warm, and that’s about all it takes to have simon’s hips jerking forward, the low grunt he lets out making you smile.
“oops.”
simon rolls his eyes, huffing out a quiet cheeky lil shit under his breath before sinking in a few more inches and letting out his own noise of triumph at the sharp gasp you let out.
it’s easy for the hunter to lose himself once you get used to the stretch. you’re just so soft for him, sweet pussy so relaxed that he can slide right in to the hilt, and you’ll have no choice but to take it. no choice but to lie there and gasp when his hands find your tits and begin toying with your nipples. he coos when you try to squirm away and hiccup that you can’t, it’s too much, but all of it is silenced by a sweet kiss on your pouty lips.
you really are a silly deer, aren’t you? so many wasted chances to run away from him, and now that he finally has you, you’re waving a white flag.
“take it, hun,” he grunts, spreading your legs wider to watch him sink inside over and over again. the white, frothy ring around his length almost has his eyes rolling back, and he lets out a breathy chuckle when your hand finds his. the way your tits are sitting makes him want to come all over them next round.
“fuck, so cute, ain’t ya? is this all you needed, sweet’art? jus’ needed some attention?”
“y— yes,” you manage to squeak out. heavy pants and choked moans leave your open maw, and it’s all you can do, each drag of his cock knocking the breath out of you. “more, gimme more, wan’ it deeper—”
“fuckin’ hell, the mouth on you.” his words come out as a hiss between clenched teeth, thick fingers sliding over your tender clit. the fat head of his cock hits so deep it feels like he’s about to breach your fucking womb, and you can only drool all over yourself, every coherent thought being fucked out of your head.
he’s rewiring your brain, you’re sure of it, getting you hooked on the smell and taste of him, getting your body addicted to being overwhelmingly full. you think he’s snarling something about giving you a couple of babies, fawns, but that’s all you can comprehend before you’re arching your back and warm fluid is coating his cock all the way down to his balls.
