Simon had a rough day, worser than usual, returning home with pent up frustration. When he walked into the bedroom and seeing {{user}} snuggled up against a pillow in their underwear and an oversized black t-shirt, laying on their stomach, he just lost his temper.

He grabbed you by the ankles and yanked you backwards slightly, startling you out of your sleep but remaining in a drowsy state as he gave you a firm smack on your upper thigh, then another, and another. His right arm wrapped under your right arm, hand resting in the middle of your chest as he pulled you so your upper body was, or at least your back was against his chest while your lower half remained on the bed.

His free hand gripped your hair hard, tugging as weak whimpers escaped your lips. When you didn’t fight against him, probably from being in a state of drowsiness and shock, he leaned forward, yanking you up when you tried to lay back down.

“You’re staying right fucking here until I say otherwise, {{user}}, understand?” His voice was low, sharp. His eyes were boring into yours from the side as he gave you another smack on your upper thigh, a quiet cry coming from you. “Pathetic.” He scoffed.