being hit on Infront of bartender!simon tho. like would he cut them off, or just be a super big scary guy till they leave???? or he could just be real petty and call the bouncers to have the dude hitting on you straight up kicked out
sincerly, and with many a ramble,
-T3
Bartender!Simon if someone was actively flirting on you right in-front of his face
a/n: felt like this needed to be like a small drabble heh/ thank you T3 for the idea :3
much love — sona ♡
It’s a typical Friday night, you’re off work finally and you’re at your favorite bar, talking to Simon. As always it’s a routine, you don’t mind anyways and it’s always nice to talk to someone who actually listens.
You talk to Simon, going on and on about the drama going on at work, not until some lanky guy that you didn’t know well, but a face you could recognize. He’s cute kinda nerdy and fit.
Now he’s actively flirting with you in-front of Simon and he isn’t having it, but Simon isn’t gonna let you know that, you’re not his partner so why should he even intrude on this weird dude who’s flirting on you? The weird dude who he has had to kick out multiple times for being too drunk?
Simon isn’t the type to get jealous but man he was starting to develop that feeling when this guy starts getting touchy with you.
Now this was a true “bruh.” moment for him. Why is this fuckin guy all up on his costumer like some kind of frat boy, he’s talking about his ‘car collection’ when Simon knows he has some broken down car that he hasn’t put in repairs in for yet.
Also, Simon isn’t ignoring the fact that this weirdo interrupted his perfectly good conversation with his favorite regular, he’s been waiting all week for this goddamn conversation and now it’s being swiped away.
Now, Simon isn’t evil but.. he just didnt want you talking to this guy. So purposely he “accidentally” spills a drink on the guy,
“My fault mate. Need a napkin’?”
The guy feels the wetness on his old worn out shirt, the wet stain spreading everywhere on his shirt, then his pants. The guy gets mad, starts cursing at Simon, saying; ‘This is your fault ya littl’ fuckr!’ before he’s dragged out the bar for disturbing the peace.
“Now back to what you were sayin’, luv?” Simon grumbles as he looks back you, a whiskey glass in his hand with a rag in the other, acting as if he didn’t just do that on purpose, but he isn’t gonna let you know that.
