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Maybe Simon had spoiled you too much, pampered you excessively, given in one too many times to your pleas— maybe this was all his own doing.
That’s not to say he didn’t enjoy spoiling you. If anything he wanted to, wanted to give his girl whatever she asked for. Eager to meet all your needs, keep you content and happy. Never be the man his father was to his mother.
Though, he should’ve seen this coming. Should’ve expected the whining to intensify tenfold when you were sick. Been prepared for it at the least.
It was a bit frustrating actually.
You were sick.
He didn’t want to get sick.
Quite simple. Reasonable, in fact. But to you? It seemed to be the end of the world.
It was annoying considering he gave into your every plea every other time before today. Irritating because he was doing everything else for you; brought you tea, made you soup, ran you a bath, tucked you into the sheets. However, he denied you one luxury: cuddles and kisses.
Any other time, Simon took you into his arms, accepted your body like a weighted blanket. Kept a possessive touch on your skin. Wanted to inhale your breath as his own, leave your lips swollen and red. Looked so pretty decorated in his touch.
But can’t a man try to stay healthy?
Apparently not in your eyes.
The first day it was humorous. He thought you were just being dramatic on purpose, whining when he opted to sleep on the couch instead of in your sick infested bed. Frowned each time he dodged your attempts to press a kiss to his cheek or tangle your hands in his.
The second day it had become slightly annoying. He made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to get sick; he couldn’t kiss you, couldn’t snuggle with you, couldn’t sleep with you even if he wanted. Even promised to make it up once you were healed. Though, this still didn’t seem to be good enough for you. Your protests only increased, only pouted longer the more he denied your pleas.
The third day? Well Ghost was known for being short tempered, but Simon? Simon was quite patient, especially when it came to you. Maybe that patience had worn thin, even if you were joking. Dissipated and dissolved into insignificant shards in the floor when you had the audacity to whine that he was ‘so mean’ to you.
Mean? The last thing Simon was to you was mean. He made sure he was never mean to you. If anything, the way he treated you in comparison to quite literally everyone else who walked this Earth was astounding.
Simon was beginning to think he was too nice to you.
The comment had him gritting his teeth, wishing he had his mask on so you wouldn’t see the way his jaw clenched tightly in aggravation. Fists clenching around the spoon he was feeding you with, could snap it in two if he wanted.
“Mean?” He scoffed.
You nodded, looking up at him with beady eyes and a prominent pout on your plump lips, “Cruel even.”
The stupid spoon landed on the bedside table with a loud clank, the soup joining shortly, sloshing on to the wooden material.
“Mean?” He snarled, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and index finger, chin resting in his palms, “You think I’m mean to you?”
Your eyes widened up at him, but he didn’t grace you with the thought of even responding. Stamped his mouth against yours aggressively, fingers digging indents into your jaw. Held you in place, tilted your head every each way in his grip. Bruised your lips red and wet as he caught the bottom one in his teeth, bit hard as he pulled away. Watched as the swollen flesh plopped back in place.
“You don’t even know what mean is,” He said, dark and mockingly, “You want me to show you what mean is, sweetheart?”
His grip on your jaw forced you forward, had you stumbling to your feet as he stood you up. Cocking his head down at you when you didn’t respond. If he was going to risk getting sick to please you, he might as well make it worth it.
“Tell me, is this delicate throat of yours sore?” He ran his free thumb down your stretched throat.
You nodded weakly in his palms, croaking a a quiet ‘yes.’
“Too bad.”
Pushed you to your knees, unhooking his pants to pull his flaccid cock out. Pressed the tip against your lips, tangling his fingers in your hair.
“Suck.”
It was a few seconds of you staring up at him in shock at your sudden new position before you finally moved; his ticked eyebrow a cue of his expectations. Slender fingers gripped the base of his shaft, blinking hesitantly as your warm breath cascaded over the sensitive skin.
Despite his Ghost persona, a wrath many people were afraid of, Simon was usually gentle with you. Took his time with you, enjoyed the task of slowly peeling your layers apart piece by piece. Always put your needs before his own, so his sudden anger, changed demeanor was a surprise to you.
Your lips eventually parted slowly, swiped a timid kitten lick against his tip. Testing the waters with small swipes, peering at him through your lashes with apprehension. Had him tightening his grasp on your hair in annoyance at your shy licks. So, you dipped lower, flattened your tongue against the shaft before sliding up, curving your tongue around his girth until you reached the tip again.
Suctioned the head in your rosy lips and sucked. Suckled the soft flesh until he grew harder in your warm mouth. A tight fit stretched between your dainty lips. Caused you to pull back, mouth falling empty as you prepared yourself for his new length.
Simon gripped your jaw with his free hand pulled you forward inch by inch on his cock; your eyes widened at first, hands flying to his hips for leverage. He stopped once he reached your throat, constricted tightly around the intrusion. Drew his hips back when you squeezed your eyes shut, a thick string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his head.
“Mean,” He muttered crossly under his breath, hooked his thumb in your parted lips and pulled the skin taut.
Even now, he thought he was being too nice. Taking his time to ease you around his girth when he should just plunge himself in, show you how mean he really could be.
He tugged you forward by the cheek, kept your mouth stretched as he returned to your throat. Didn’t stop when you dug your nails into his hips or when tears beaded in your pretty lashes. Pulled until your nose rested against his pelvis, balls rested against your chin. Held you there as you tried your best to regulate your breathes.
Your mouth was warm, soft, melted in the tight confines of your throat, but he couldn’t even enjoy the sensation. Too aggravated to focus on the way you curled your tongue around him, the way you sucked the tip each time he dragged you back.
He loosened his hold on your cheek when you began to cough weakly around his cock. Let you gasp for breath before he repeated the motions, fucked himself down your throat until the tears ran down your stuffed cheeks. Saliva dripped down your chin as you took the onslaught, willingly accepted each thrust.
Held your head tilted by your hair once he graced you with a break, chest rising sporadically. Lips glistening and swollen, red and pretty from being stretched so long.
It was a sight, your lashes wet and clumped from your tears. Perched on your knees for him, looking up at him, obediently waiting for his next move.
And still, he couldn’t relish in you ruined and pretty. Too angry to truly cherish your state, tainted in his mark. Your words ringing painfully in his head.
“That mean enough for you?” Simon snapped, hoisting you back on to the bed, “Never been mean to you a day in my life.”
Shoved your shirt off, pushed you to your back to peel your pajama shorts off. Laid bare in the tangle of sheets.
“Simon, I wasn’t being serious,” You said, aiding him in removing your bra and underwear.
Your words didn’t matter to him— not right now. Too late to take them back. So, he ignored them, flipped you around so your ass was forefront. Feet planted on the floor, bent in half on the bed.
“Is that want you wanted, huh?” He asked, palm brushing soft strokes on your ass cheek, “Couldn’t fuckin’ go three days without a bloody kiss?”
He didn’t even wait for you to respond, slammed an open palmed slap against your ass. Made you jolt forward in shock, a loud shriek leaving your throat at the momentum. Smacked each cheek red, stinging impression of Simon-shaped handprints branded your skin. Dainty fingers digging into the blankets below you, arching on your your tippy toes with each spank. Trying your best to rut away from his large palm, legs shaking in anticipation for the next smack.
Simon had never been this rough with you, never maneuvered you around as he pleased. Never spanked you before— with anger at least.
He almost felt bad when he looked at your face, red and wet, sobbing with each smack. That was until he slide his hand lower, felt how drenched you were.
“Cruel?” He laughed, cackled really, “If I’m so cruel why are you this wet?”
Dragged his fingers through your wet folds, gathering the obscene amount of juices between your thighs. Slapped his fingers against your pussy when you didn’t respond. Small hiccups of breaths the only indication that you were listening to him, that you were still with him.
“Hmm?” He hummed, “Making a fuckin’ mess of yourself.”
Ended each word with a soft slap against your cunt, had you crying out each time his fingers made contact. Choking on your tears, your own saliva as he tormented you.
“Asked you a fuckin’ question.”
Didn’t give you a chance to answer, didn’t care what lame excuse would fall from your lips, plunged two fingers in your cunt instead. Head snapped back at the sudden intrusion, spine arching impossibly so. Noise ripped straight from your core vibrated off the walls.
“S-Simon, I-I,” You sobbed, hand flying back to dig your nails into his wrist, stop his movements as best you could.
He gripped your hand, pinning it to your back and holding you down against the mattress. Lips finding your ears as he clicked his tongue in his mouth disapprovingly.
“No, no. Too late for that, angel,” He tutted, “Gonna take it like a good girl yeah? Tell me when you’re gonna cum, yeah?”
“Yes, Simon,” You whimpered weakly, burying your face into the sheets.
Fucked his fingers into your cunt just like that. Stretched your walls thin, curled them against your spongy flesh. Filled the room with desperate whines and filthy squelching from your leaking cunt. Until you thrusted your hips back, grinded against Simon’s palm, filling his hand with a small puddle when he began swiping three fingers against your clit in tandem.
Clenched tightly around his digits, “Simon! Close, gonna cum!”
Removed his fingers as soon as your pussy began to pulse. Denied you the pleasure of finishing.
You swiveled your head back, widened eyes staring at him in shock, “What? Simon, no. No, why did you stop?”
“Thought you wanted me to be mean?” He purred, “Too fuckin’ spoiled.”
His fingers returned to your pussy, though this time, he inserted them slowly. Teased your eager cunt with a breath of the stimulation he just gave you. Leisurely stroked your gummy walls, not enough to make you finish. Barely enough vigor to have your core flicker, needed so much more to orgasm around his fingers.
“Have to put you back in your place do I?” Simon growled against your neck, “Spoiled you too fuckin’ much have I?”
You shook your head frantically against the sheets, “No, no. Simon, was just joking. Know you’re not mean to me. Please, I’m so close.”
So, he thrusted his fingers in your swollen walls faster. Slammed his digits in to the hilt, knuckle pressed to your entrance. Fluttered pathetically wrapped around him, weeping to finish. But he didn’t allow you to, pulled right out the moment your walls began to convulse.
“No, no,” You chanted over and over again, sobbing as you shook your head, “Please. Simon, please need more.”
And your wish was his command, replaced his fingers with his fat cock. Made you gasp loudly, mouth falling open in shock once he stuffed you full, bottomed out in your cunt. His hand found your throat, wrung around the small muscle and arched your back against his chest. Feet dangling in the air above his.
“See? Not fuckin’ mean,” He gritted through his teeth, “My girl asked for more, so I gave her more, huh?”
Your head bobbed eagerly, clinging to the wrist wrapped around your throat, “Yes! Simon, so good to me.”
Choked on your breaths each time he fucked into your walls. Eyes rolled into the back of your skull, babbled words falling from your lips. Helplessly took the pounding from his hips against your ass. Loud and obscene, hot tears searing his hand on your throat.
Stopped as soon as you began to stammer that you were going to finish. As soon as your walls began to clench sporadically around his cock.
You sobbed, loud, abandoned. Like it fucking hurt to be denied another orgasm. Thrashed against his hold, tried your best to thrust your ass back down on his cock. Needy, desperate to finish.
“Simon, please. I need it. I’m sorry, you’re not mean to me, please. Want to cum. Need to, please,” You begged in his hold, clambering in his grasps for anything.
“That’s what I thought,” Simon hummed, gliding one hand between your conjoined bodies, sliding his fingers where you stretched so prettily for him, “My girl needs more? Needs to cum?”
You nodded earnestly, “Yes, Simon. Please.”
Swiped his fingers over your swollen, engorged clit with a sudden ferocity it had you keeling over, stomach clenching so tightly. Screamed as he began to fuck into your cunt ravenously, like he fucking wanted to tear you in two. Morph your walls to his fat cock, slammed against your cervix.
Finally let you finish, body practically spasming in his hold. Shaking, jolting, pulsing in every imaginable way. Drenched him in your cum as he filled you with his. Stuffed you full of his cock and cum.
Went limp in his arms, gasping for shallow breaths, sniffling from your tears or from being sick, Simon wasn’t sure. Didn’t care either, laid you down on the bed as you peered at him through half lidded eyes.
“Not mean to my girl,” He murmured, brushing your sweat stained hair from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your forehead.