Imagine older mechanic!Simon with collage student!reader. You meet at his shop while checking up on a friend's car. You and him have a good conversation while you wait for the car and after a second visit for the car he offers you his number "incase of a car malfunction" (he could care less about your friends car.) After that he and you are constantly texting for about a year steady, and he takes such good care of you. You say something about being hungry? Food is already at your door. You're having a rough time mentally? He's at your apartment. You need a ride home? Say less.
"Need help bringin these in?" Simon asks you looking at your enormous pile or papers and books in the backseat of his truck already beginning to pick them up. His rolled up sleeves giving you a decent view of his large ink decorated biceps as they flex and exert themselves. The pictures of swirls, crosses among other designs stretch and move according to his movements, the pile lifted out of the truck. A hot feeling washes over your body suddenly. But you decide to ignore the very obvious reasons for it. You give a soft chuckle and respond playfully. "I was planning to just one hand it but sure you can help I guess." Simon smirks a little and begins to head to the door while you fumble with your keys to open the door for him. "Thanks for picking me up Si. Its been a big help recently. I swear my car will be running soon okay?" He nods as he walks into your small studio. As you shut the door gently behind you he sets the book along the glass stove-top of your kitchen counter making a small gliding sound. "Like i said, its not a problem love. Im happy to give you a lift. And i dont mind helpin you fix up the car either." He looks at you gently, sincerely. And your chest feels a little tighter looking at his dusty grey eyes and thick brows as they thicken the atmosphere of the room. You smile softly and start to walk towards your stuff, laying your hands neatly ontop of the pile. "You've done enough for me as is." You let out a small huff of air and your brows furrow lightly as you look at him intently, your smile turning into a look of concern. "Are you sure you dont want me to pay you? Its definitely warranted, and you didnt have to do any of this. It just seems unfair of me." The words come out a little faster and more worrisome then you originally intended but the point stays the same. Simon looks at you, his expression blank for a few seconds. It's not that he wasn't listening to you, trust me. His mind was flooded with the many ways you could repay him. Especially when you looked at him with your pretty fucking face and with your lips slightly parted, the gap showcasing a small string of saliva holding onto each lip. But he didn't want to force anything onto you. He was so sure his fantasies were one sided. And even if you did want to fuck him. He wanted more then that, he wanted to pamper you. To take you on dates, be a gentlemen. And fucking you in this shitty apartment so you could "repay him" wasn't anywhere close to being a gentlemen. Though the thought had made his pants tighter, he wasn't going to act on it. Finally he utters out the words "No need." Your eyes dart to his mouth and begin to focus on the way his coral tinted lips moved together every time he said a new word. His tongue flicking the roof of his mouth to pronounce his Ns. Your mind couldnt help but wander a bit, wondering how he smells up close, how the tips of his calloused fingers would feel running up and down your side, inside of you... Coming back to reality, you flash him a small smile to mask the look of concern on your face and the warmth growing in between your legs. Unsure of weather the way he was treating you was really fair to himself. You decide to drop the topic regardless and thank him again for helping you out. Yet again, unsurprisingly, he tells you it's not an issue and that he's always happy to help and so on. And then he's gone, just like that. The hot feeling in the core of your pussy? Not so much.
