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.
