#bully!simon

As your senior year starts to come to a close, the holy grail of freedom from crowded halls, ugly looks and… him.

Simon Riley.

You may be a loner, yes… but not everybody hates you. You couldn’t say the same about Simon, though.

Tall, brooding, held back a year because of the amount of absences he had. A senior, just like you, but a 19 compared to your 18. Always wearing a mask, always hiding somewhere off to the side, never stepping into the light, except for you.

Because it was clear that Simon hated pretty much everybody, but he hated you especially.

you weren’t sure why, because you had never talked to him before the bullying started. Sure, you had caught him looking at you, but after the messy breakup you and your friend group had? A lot of people looked at you, and not in the good way.

Then the bullying started. Simon, always appearing on your way to class, bumping books from your hands and making sure his elbow drove deep into your stomach. He was the cause of your tears, more often than not, but he didn’t give a shit.

And then he stopped hiding it.

Came right up to you, just to shove you into the lockers, spinning you around and shoving your face against the metal cabinets. You would squeal and cry and plead, but it was useless. Simon was relentless.

“Oh, cry all you want baby… no one’s gonna help ya’, eh? No… they don’t care… they don’t care like I do…”

His twisted words made you hiccup over your tears, just as he chuckled behind you. The skirt you were wearing as suddenly a lot shorter than how you remembered it, and shame flushes your cheeks as you realize that Simon’s practically displaying your lacy pink panties to the entire hall.

The whispers grow louder as you squirm against him. Simon just chuckles, letting the crowd find their way to class… class! You’re going to be late, the teacher is going to kill you-

Simons hand flies down to your ass before you can react, making you cry out in pain. He shoved your short little skirt up and tugged the back of your panties high, only to tighten his grip and tug. Again and again, until he had wedged the fabric between your asscheeks.

Thank god the hall was clear now.

You sob and squirm as he forces a wedgie right up into you, your clit burning through the lacy fabric as he spanks you again. Why was he doing this?

“s-stop! Stop, stop Simon please-”

His hand comes to your throat, not tight enough to choke you, but to force your gaze up to his grin. He grips your cheeks, pressing into your soft flesh to open your mouth, before spitting into it.

You whine and sob harder.

“That’s it whore, swallow.”

You try not to, but you can’t close your mouth. You start to drool, tongue lolling out as tears stain your cheeks, your previously neat bun now messy and disgraced. Simon just tsks at your behavior, sighing before shoving two thick fingers to the back of your throat, making you gag.

Now you have no choice but to swallow, and he doesn’t release you until you do.

“Fuckin’ bitch… can’t just follow orders, now can ya’…”

You fall to the ground, heaving in raspy breaths as your skirt flutters back down around your thighs. Your throat is sore and your hair is a mess, and tears track mascara all the way down your cheeks.

Simons taste lingers on your tongue, like pine and cigarettes, mixed with stale beer. It should taste disgusting… but it doesn’t.

Simons scoffs and spits one more time at your face, shoving you against the lockers for good measure. And you hate the part of you that liked it, despite struggling to stand and collect yourself after. Some hidden daddy issues sort of kink, it had to be.

You couldn’t be turned on by him.

That was the first time Simon Riley bullied you like that, and he hadn’t stopped since. It carried on during lunch and during class, and sure it got him a few detentions… but it was public school. What were they going to do, care? Definitely not.

But now, here you are, two weeks away from graduation. Your finals are all done and taken, and you’re so sick of sitting alone, from begging for mercy from some sick bully that plagues you. Sick of school, but really, truly down with it.

So it doesn’t help that in your mind spiraling tangent, you push into the men’s bathroom.

You don’t notice, of course, it’s empty. And the bathrooms look practically identical of your not looking for the urinals.

Most of the other seniors are off for the next two weeks, they’re optional days of school. But you’d rather take the time to study at home, instead of risking your paperwork for college and your wrist for writing to your dad’s drunken rage.

You just need a break, a splash of water on your face. So you tug off your jacket and fix your pants, having bothered to never wear a skirt again, not since the… incident.

You splash water on your face with a low groan, slumping over the sink as the bathroom door opens. You don’t look up, you don’t care enough to. It’s probably just some teacher or underclass man that you don’t care about.

But the rumbling chuckle that you hear behind you makes you look up with fear, catching his reflection in the mirror.

Simon’s hand grip your hips faster than you can bolt, bending you over the sink and forcing you to throw your hands up against the mirror with a cry. You struggle in Simon’s grip, but it’s no use, especially when he pins your hands with one of his.

“Must be ma’ lucky day, hm baby… little fawn like you, stumbling into my bathroom? On the day everyone else has off?”

You cry out, struggling more fervently.

“Let me go! Let me go, Simon you’re sick, you’re so fucking sick-”

“Ah-ah-ah…”

He says, chuckling and rolling his hips against you, making you cry out. He had you pressed against the sink, legs around yours and pinning you down, your pants staring against the force and stretch of your body.

“Tha’s a lot of attitude baby… you wanna be punished?”

You sob against the mirror and sink, face still wet from the water. Two more weeks, two more weeks to survive Simon. You had to survive, you had to make it through.

“Stop! Stop you freak, w-why are you even doing this!”

You cry out, trembling beneath him. That makes Simon pause, looking down at you with a frown. You really couldn’t be that daft… could you?

Unless he was the emotionally constipated one that thought that this was flirting.

Simon didn’t have the best examples of love, growing up… his father being the dick that he was and his mother slowly losing herself to depression. So obviously Simon wasn’t going to know exactly what to do… right?

It was no secret that he was attractive. He was an asshole, yeah, and most people hated him. It didn’t change the fact that he was objectively handsome, a few scars here and there, and scrappy golden blonde hair that women wished matched his personality.

And Simon had like you for a long time, no doubt. He swore that at the beginning of the year, you had smiled at him. You were in the tutoring program that he had enrolled in, and fuck you just seemed so different… didn’t glare at him like the rest of them.

Not yet at least.

So he did what he only knew how to do, and led by violence. Knocked down your books ma then knocked down you, and it got to the point where he did have you up against the lockers, flashing your panties to the school. But when he tugged the pink lace up between your ass and you squealed like that? He could see the way that perfect pussy had jumped, leaking onto the fabric like a fountain.

So you had liked it.

And that only motivated him more.

But the thing is, that you just kept running from him. See, Simon was already here for an extra year, and he wasn’t going to waste it. He’d have you by graduation, or he’d track you down until you were his.

He chose the former.

So when he walked into the surely empty bathroom and saw you? It was a chance to claim you in a way he hoped no one had before, and make you his. Finally

“…you really don’t know, baby?” He said gruffly, still grinding up against your pert ass. You could feel it through your leggings, and suddenly you knew a lot more than you wanted to. “Because I need you… a’ haven’t tracked ya’ down all year just to let you go, no baby… gotta take ya nice and hard.”

He shoves you hard as you cry out, but it sounds suspiciously similar to a moan. You can feel him reaching down to you with the elastic of your pants, tugging it slowly.

You whimper, shaking your head.

“d-don’t, Simon don’t-”

Simon clucks his tongue, just tugging them harder until he reveal the soft white lace of your thong. It was the only thing you had to wear, everything else in the wash as you cry out.

“Ye’ say that… yet yer cunt’s soaked baby…”

He’s right. You’re so wet right now that your underwear clings to the outline of your puffy, needy pussy, drenching the fabric. Simon chuckles, reaching a thumb down to toy at your clit, pulling a needy moan from you.

“Tha’s it ye’ slut… there’s almost no one here. Moan for me.”

You don’t want to listen to him, but you can help it. The way his fingers are working, the way he’s teasing you. The way he pulls your thing out of the way to slip a thick finger inside, then two. The way he makes you clench and moan, back bowing against the sink.

“Simon!”

you cry out with pleasure, panting and squirming beneath him. He chuckles and groans, leaving one hand inside of you, pumping steadily, as the other one reaches down to undo his belt. You can see your reflection in the mirror, eyes red and puffy from crying, lips red from biting them, trying to keep back moans. Cheeks flushed with pleasure as the smell of sex coats the air.

Simon makes quick work of his belt and the buttons of his jeans, tugging them down to reveal a pair of black Calvin Klein and a very big, obvious bulge.

You whimper, and his thrusts speed up.

Simon moves his thumb to rub your clit as the coil in your lower belly starts to tighten, and you moan out with whimpery need. You need to come, but you don’t want to. Not on Simon’s hands.

But you can’t really control it, not when he grins and speeds up like the knows what you’re thinking, because he does. Gets you to the edge before slowly pulling his cock out

The sight of it makes you gasp with pleasure, body tightening as your orgasm rolls over you. You don’t moan or squirm or scream, just tense and arch back into Simon with a soft gasp. You come hard around his fingers and he chuckles, letting you slump back against the sink.

And when he takes out his fingers, the head of his fat cock replaces them soon enough.

Your eyes go wide, even as you pant and try to protest, but Simon just cuts you off. Forces his cum slicked fingers into your mouth and down your throat, choking as he forces his heavy, fat tip up into your tight pussy.

You cry out around his fingers, drooling down them and your chin, sobbing harder as you look at yourself in the mirror. You hate that it’s hot, you hate how turned on you get knowing the man that you hate is fucking you in the school bathrooms, your cum coating his fingers.

Simon loves it too.

“Yeah baby? Ya’ see how fuckin’ pretty you look, boutta’ be all dumbed out on ma’ cock? Yeah?”

You can’t stop yourself from nodding, sucking harder at his fingers as he starts to force more of his thick cock into your right channel. The stretch is like nothing you’ve had before, and you’re definitely not a virgin. But no other guy matters, now that you’ve felt this.

Simon groans as he shoves himself all the way in, balls smacking against your clit and already dripping with your slick. He can smell it, your sweet and seedy sex, and he can feel the way you tighten around him.

So he keeps his fingers in your mouth as he pulls back, and starts to fuck your pussy like you’re nothing but a flashlight for him to use.

Your hiccupy moans are all muffled by Simon’s fingers, broken up with each slap of skin against yours and each deep thrust that forces Simon’s thick and ruddy tip up into your cervix. Your tears don’t stop, only increasing with the painful pleasure that digs itself deep into your bones.

It roots itself there like a parasite, feeding off of the depraved pleasure you get from Simon. From your bully fucking you in the bathroom in the middle of the day.

Simon’s thrusts increase in speed, and your moans get higher and louder.

Two weeks till graduation, and Simon’s already completed his goal, already got you right where he wants you, fucking into your tight little pussy as he forces you to watch your cock drunk expression in the mirror. You’re drooling over his fingers, already sucked all of your cum off of them. I guess he’ll just have to add more.

It’s not long before Simon starts to climb to his peak, but he knows he has to get you there first. So he keeps a hand on your hip, moving the sloppy one from your mouth, down to your puffy little clit.

“Yeah baby? Gon’ come again, let me fill up this pretty lil cunt? Yeah?”

You nod weakly, eyes glazed over as he groans and grunts, pace starting to stutter. He speeds up his circles on your clit, body doubling over as he shoves ball deep, coming with a loud groan.

You come too, gasping and panting and whining like a bitch in heat, your overstimulated pussy not only coming, but squirting all over him. Simon’s abs are drenched, along with his jeans around his thighs and your leggings pulled down only to your knees. Not to mention his cock and balls now, too.

Simon groaned and chuckled, panting as he looks down to the mess that you made. He looks up at you through the mirror, your fucked out face starting to return to normal, eyes no longer glazed over as you blink away tears.

Simon leans down, forcing a kiss agaisnt your temple.

“Tha’s it baby… my good slut. We’ll do it again before graduation, a’ promise.”

𐙚‧₊˚📜✩ ₊˚⊹♡𐙚‧₊˚📜✩ ₊˚⊹♡𐙚‧₊˚📜✩ ₊˚⊹♡𐙚‧₊˚

A/N-hoped you liked it! It took a bit of a deranged turn… but it’s fine! My first rec and I think I did good myself, even though I’m sick and already pumped out another fic today!

So I hope you enjoyed!