Coffee shop| Simon Riley x Reader

Saftey reasons

Simon, having finished his workout earlier than usual, decided to break his routine and head to the coffee shop a few minutes ahead of his typical schedule. As he approached the entrance, he spotted the man who had asked you for your number the day before. Sensing tension in the air, Simon took a deep breath and increased his pace, striding purposefully towards the door with larger steps.

"C'mon, doll face, what's the real reason you didn't call me?"

"I lost your number, I don't know what happened to the napkin you gave me." He took a step closer to you, and you backed into the table.

"I know you're lying. What is it, hm? Not attractive enough for you?" He grabbed your waist, trying to bring you closer, and you shoved him off you.

His hand lifted, and you put your hands up to block him from hitting you, but in one swift motion, Simon's fist collided with the side of his face. Your eyes grew wide, and you took a step back.

Simon, fueled by a surge of protective instinct, straddled the man on the ground, gripping his collar and lifting him up. Another punch followed, blood spouting from the man's nose, prompting a shocked reaction from you. Concern etched across your face, you gently placed your hand on Simon's shoulder.

"Simon, please, you're going to kill him," Reluctantly, he got off the man, taking a deep breath. Simon then lifted the man off the ground and dragged him toward the cafe door, delivering a stern warning.

"If I ever see you come here again or she tells me that you tried doing something to her while I wasn't around, I'll find out where you live and fucking kill you. You understand, mate?" The man nodded in terror as Simon opened the door and forcefully threw him out.

You approached Simon with a gentle stride, placing your hand on his arm as you brought his hand closer to your eyes. A small gasp escaped you as you noticed the slight cut on his knuckles, your eyes widening in concern.

"Take a seat, I'm going to grab the first aid kit," you insisted, your worry evident. Simon, trying to reassure you, offered a slight smile. "I'm okay, love, no need to burden yourself."

But you weren't easily swayed. "Simon, you have a cut on your knuckle, it could get infected," Anticipating his protest, you furrowed your brows, looking up at him with a soft plea.

"Simon, please," your voice softened, and he felt a subtle skip in his heartbeat. He nodded in agreement, not just to let you tend to the cut but also to let you disappear into the back, giving him a moment to smile to himself.

Observing the small red cut, he marveled at how you were getting worked up over this minor injury. The thought crossed his mind – what would you think if you saw the more significant scars that adorned his body.

You returned to Simon with purpose, speed walking and taking a seat next to him. His hand was placed on the table in front of you, and you swiftly opened the small medical kit, retrieving peroxide and cotton balls.

Simon gazed down at you, a content smile playing on his lips. Your hands worked deftly as you soaked a cotton ball in alcohol and tapped it onto his cut. He hissed, and your eyes widened, immediately shifting to his face. To your surprise, he was smiling.

"You ass," you teased, and he laughed in response. You resumed your task, tapping the cut before applying cream and securing a bandage. Simon raised an eyebrow when he noticed the bandaid – white with small brown bears.

"Sorry, it's the only ones we had left," you explained, looking up at him. He smiled down at you before relaxing his gaze.

"Are you okay?" Simon asked with genuine concern.