Tw: smut, mentions of stds/sti
I just really need Simon. The older, full of scars and tattoos and vile and venom and just done with the world. Sits to himself at the bar. Ignores all the birds and blokes that try and see what a good time he has to offer. He's just not interested, you know? Just wants to drink his bourbon and smoke his cig like a good ol' boy.
Awkward, shy, shoulders up to your ears and the most off-putting presence around.
And fuck, if it doesn't make him hard.
He wouldn't even say you're young, there's definitely younger people in the bar tonight than you, but you're just...you.
And if that doesn't make him readjust his big, leaking cock, then he's not Simon 'Big Dick and even Badder Decisions' Riley.
Goes up to you during your second vodka and soda. Tries to say something slick but you almost choke as you take him in. Big, huge, behemoth. The biggest arms covered in tats you've ever seen. Scars over his face, crossing over his left eyebrow and raising his lip in a snarl. Bulge basically eye-level while he stands next to you.
You swear you see it throbbing.
You want to melt. You'll never stop thinking about him, but you know what he wants and you can't do that.
So, you say the one thing that will be the most perfect sentence to get rid of anyone, him included:
He just smiles at you. Full blown smiles. Like he won the fucking lottery. He just bends over to you, makes sure to get real close to you before—
"Me too, pet. Open up and lemme give you everything else I got too."
Safe to say, you both have the nastiest, rawest, filthiest, soul-mending sex you've ever had in the bathroom. And then his truck. And then his apartment.
And when you wake up, you swear you see your cat getting petted by the shirtless brute???