#biker!141 x reader

[frudoo]

I need a part 2 and 3 of Bikers 141!!!! And for the anonymous person who suggested this idea: You are a genius!! This is such a great idea!!!! I can see them helping her get a new job!!! Please add more!

Sorry it took so long for me to reply 🫣

Life has been a bitch and unfortunately I am the son.

Part 2 to this.

Warnings: None! Fem!Reader.

“She’s ridin’ w’me,” Simon grunts, and his tone leaves no room for argument—not that you mind.

    You hesitantly walk over and climb onto Simon’s bike, holding onto his waist for dear life despite still being stationary. He chuckles, revving up his engine and leading the way out of the parking lot for the three other men to follow. You frown, fingers digging into the flesh of his waist beneath his skin-tight shirt, hiding your face between his shoulder blades so you can’t see how fast you’re going or feel the wind whipping your hair. 

     Finally, the motorcycle comes to a stop with a slight jerk that has you yelping against Simon’s back. He chuckles and dismounts his ride, grabbing your waist and lifting you off of it as well. You don’t even have time to process how easily he picked your plush body up when you’re just so thankful to be alive. 

     “I am never doin’ that again!” You huff, hands on your hips as you glare at all of them. “Especially without a helmet! Do you know how dangerous that is?! What if y’all had crashed?!” 

     “Good thing we didn’t, then, eh?” John winks, nodding his head towards the quaint little ice cream parlor before you. 

     Johnny is the first to walk in, head held high like he owns the place. Next is Kyle and then John with similar stances, and the thought is so silly that it makes you giggle—four big, strong bikers trudging into the little shop to enjoy a sweet treat. Simon places his hand on the small of your back and opens the door for you, having to duck his head to trail in after. The inside looks like a typical creamery, swirls of pastel pinks and greens and yellows decorating the walls and a beautiful display of all kinds of flavors.

     “Kate,” John greets the woman behind the counter with a sniff. “Got someone for you to meet.”

     The woman gives you a onceover before turning back to John with a pleased grin. Suddenly you feel small, wrapping your arms around one of Simon’s biceps in some effort to feel safe. He chuckles, bending at the waist to murmur into your ear.

     “Tha’s jus’ Kate. Doesn’t smile much, bu’ it looks like she approves o’ya,” He explains, although now you’re more confused than intimidated.

     “Approves of me? For what?” You frown, looking up at the tall man who, surprisingly has taken off his mask—he hadn’t even done that to eat back at the diner. “O-oh, you’re… I- uh. Hm.”

     Simon smirks amusedly, and it makes your heart flutter. There are multitudes of scars all along his visage but the most prominent runs across his top lip, jagged and off-white as if it was the result of a poorly done repair job. His hair is a mess of cropped blonde strands, one bushy eyebrow raised like he’s waiting for your assessment. In short, you like what you see. In all honesty, you’ve never felt such a strong urge to kiss somebody in your life. You might have done just that if Kyle hadn’t cleared his throat.

     “Kate’s askin’ ya summat, dove.”

     “Huh? Oh! I’m so sorry, ma’am, w-what were you sayin’?” You quickly whip your head around to see that, in fact, she’s looking right at you with her arms crossed. 

     “I was offering you a job. The boys were telling me that you just got fired, is that right?” Despite her unforgiving posture, her eyes are soft and she seems patient—the complete opposite of your old boss. 

     “Yes, ma’am,” you confirm, embarrassed. 

     “Right. You start tomorrow,” Kate informs you matter-of-factly, and you sputter although no words come out of your agape mouth. 

     None of the men seem at all phased by her statement, each ordering their respective usuals, apparently: rum raisin for Kyle, pistachio for John, lemon custard for Simon, and almond mocha for Johnny. All five turn to look at you expectantly, and you suck in a deep breath before settling on a classic root beer float. They all seem pleased, and before you even get the chance to pull out your card to pay for your own, John takes care of the entire thing. You thank him sweetly as the guys guide you to sit at a cute little table, far too small and whimsical for the likes of them.

     It’s a good root beer float, though. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that these men—no matter how blunt or forward they may be—are so eager to help you out (in their own way of politely bossing you around, of course).

[urmomschocolatemilk]

I 🩷 bikers

Biker!Simon who’s tatted uppp. He’s rolling up his sleeves while he rides to let everyone get a look at his muscly arms laced with inked designs because yes, he does want to show off

Biker!Simon who's rolling up next to you at a red light, head turning while he thrums his fingers on the seat under him. He can feel your heated gaze through your window.

Biker!Simon who flips open his visor and lets his eyes find yours. He wants you to know that he sees you staring and he's staring right back at you

Biker!Simon who passes his phone to you with the new contact sheet open on his screen, ready for you to fill out

Biker!Simon who trashes on the TikTok bikers and calls them cornballs but doesn’t hesitate to send you photos of him in a compression shirt and helmet at any chance he gets

Biker!Simon who buys you a helmet before your first date, and takes you home. And no matter how much you beg him that night, he refuses to go above sixty on the highway because he why would he ever put his girl at risk like that?

[gloomwitchwrites]

Thinking about…Biker!141 AU

Biker!Gaz who turned a hobby into a career on social media. Sometimes he’s dishing out advice and general maintenance tips, while the rest of his videos are straight up thirst traps. He might not say it directly, but he adores the attention. All the thirsty comments are the perfect ego boost. But there’s a pattern, a username that keeps cropping up over and over again. It’s not just anyone. It’s his best friend’s ex, a woman he’s been lusting after for years. She’s liking his posts, and leaving filthy comments. This might be his chance.

Biker!Price doesn’t hate much, but he hates it when people owe him money. And your brother is at the top of his list. With a stacked gambling debt, your brother hands you over to Price with the hope that this might erase or lower the debt. Well, tough shit for your brother. Price is keeping you and not erasing one cent of the debt just to shove it in your brother’s face. Yes, you’re his now, and that isn’t going to change, but you’re a sweet thing…and Price intends to make you his.

Biker!Ghost is the odd one out in his small town. Rumor is that he’s a violent man with a long criminal history that ranges from petty theft to murder. No one will actually verify if it’s true, but they all repeat it like it’s the truth. As the newest addition, everyone you come across tells you to stay away from him even though he’s the only car mechanic in town. But when your cheap ass car breaks down, and not a single godly citizen stops to help, it’s Ghost that rolls to a stop. It’s he that offers you a ride home and promises to have it towed to his shop free of charge.

Biker!Soap is about to be handed the keys to a criminal empire. His father’s clock is ticking, but a war between rivals looms on the horizon. With the possibility of a bloody fight ahead, Soap’s father makes a deal with another rival gang. This one has a marriageable daughter around the same age, and Soap is the eligible bachelor. While he’s single, he’s hardly celibate. He rides fast, fucks hard, and hasn’t thought about having a wife at all. But when you arrive, he meets a fiery thing that would rather scratch his face off than sleep with him. Good luck with that, babe. Soap is about to win you over.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

TF141 + cars

SOAP is a car guy in the sense that he drives a junker manufactured the same year he was born (the significance of which, he says, speaks for itself). 

refers to the car as she and loves bringing up how sexy she is when she chugs to life. you think it's a weird flex until you realize he's not talking to you; he's talking to the car. 

often tells her he's gonna get her all fixed up as soon as he has the money.

GAZ is a car guy in the sense that he drives a sleek, sporty, low-ass car. a convertible. keeps it pristine enough that he can keep whitewall tires on his baby and they stay clean.

cream interior. all the bells and whistles because if he's gonna cruise around london when he's off-duty, he's damn sure gonna do it comfortably. 

pays to keep it protected in covered parking while he's gone on leave.

side-eyes Soap's mismatched aftermarket parts; can't help but respect his dedication.

PRICE is a car guy in the sense that he's had his since Gaz was in diapers. the thing can't possibly have any resale value anymore but it's the first and only new car he's ever bought.

uninterested in getting her fixed up because she's no ship of theseus. no sir. he fixes only what need fixing when it needs fixing. the rest is original parts. no need to fix what ain't broken and all that.

she's almost come back into vogue as a classic car. wasn't his intent, but he's glad to see so-called collectors putting respect on her name again.

GHOST is a car guy in the sense that he's a motorcycle guy.

scoffs at Soap and Gaz preening over their rides. they don't know what it is to love their rides until they've squeezed their legs around it while it purrs.

[ink-n-shadow]

what if i made an au for older!divorced!biker!ghost who all but gave up on ever dating again and put all his time/effort into building his gang and clubhouse to astronomical levels, hooking up with person after person without ever looking back…

…only for a pretty little thing like you to come stumbling into his bar one night, job application in hand and big doe eyes fluttering around the dimly lit space. he’d watch from the dark corner of the bar as you shyly spoke to soap (his right-hand man), stumbling over your words as you explained that you’d heard there was a job opening for a bartender and that you were in between jobs.

simon would be halfway through pushing himself off the wall to throw you out himself when he heard soap enthusiastically take your job application, promising you he’d get this to the boss and have an answer for you by tomorrow.

and his simmering anger would slowly bleed out into a hot lust as he watches the way your hips sway back and forth while you saunter out of the bar.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[jackalopenecropsy]

ok i'll indulge myself....

part 1(?) of biker gang!141 and an interesting fem grunge!reader... if u want more

cw; slight mentions of blood

The streets were pretty quiet this time of night. The only sounds to be heard were barking dogs or tires occasionally skidding in the distance. And the teenagers were never out this late in the fall, as school just started or they were working their dead jobs at the gas station or high school graduates pouring the same 5 drinks at a bar.

You liked walking around- even though it was maybe 1 or 2 in the morning- mainly because you had your scary guard dog with you, (who wasn't even a bit scary, he was just a police academy dropout with a fear of cotton swabs and squirrels) but also because the air this time of year smelled the best. It did wonders for your skin and sinuses, so why not? Walking around in the daytime was a lot more of a chore anyways, teenagers skating sporradically with fruity vapes on necklaces or older men just leaving their blue collar jobs for lunch while staring at you with unreadable expressions.

The northwoods, sigh. You'd told yourself that you'd leave it all the time when you were a kid. Over the years, a mix of the economy making that absolutely impossible and an aquirement of taste for small-town life made it a lot easier to accept the impossibility of it. Bartending and eventually being remote in editorial work kept you afloat in the small house you'd been able to buy flat out in the south side of town.

That part of town was just cemeteries and neighborhoods, neighborhoods and railroads, and gas stations and bars. As most south sides were. Another luxury of living where you lived was the copious amounts of streets and drag-worthy strips of old highway that laid for miles in one direction or another.

You used to work as a freelance flag girl for drag racers on some shitty craigslist copy, but quit l because the only racers that wanted you were full of white-claw drunk young assholes rooting for douchebag car modders who compensated for their dick sizes by throttling so hard that the pop of their exhausts sounded like gunfights. It was too loud and to risky and too tasteless.

But in the ends of the summer, it was taken over by the bikers. Not bicycle-bikers, but motorcyclists.

You were absolutely terrible at hiding your drooling depraved stares at every single one of them. The young women in skin-clad leather and red lipstick with matching sleek bikes, the finer-aged older men in their lean-back harleys with bandanas, the cute guys your age in their blackout helmets and their modestly-modded bikes. Oh, the variety, oh the taste. You had once thought about picking up biking yourself, but when you told your friends they all cackled at the idea. You were too absent minded at times; definitely from all the weed you smoked. Only half embarassed, you agreed.

Tonight was no different than the other nights of early Septembers before. Your dog lapped his tongue in the air catching stray dew drops falling from leaves overhead as you took your time walking accross the street. He swayed his tail so hard that you almost got knocked over a few times. The sound of a motorcyle revving in the distance made you slow your speed to a halt, listening intently, shamefully to see if you could get any bit of eye candy while out.

You recognized the sound of the engine, which soon became engines as the sounds came closer.

'Oh... a group of Kawaskis?? No... that's at least two more different motorcyles, but a few Kawaskis.. Do I hear a Harley?'

You blinked to yourself before shaking your head.

'God fucking damnit, you geek. You should NOT be able to tell what motorcyle model someone's riding from the fucking engine.'

Before you can shamefully walk back towards your house, you feel your dog tug harshly at his leash. You try to hold him back, but he yanks with one solid push of his back paws on the blacktop, and before you know it, you're hands and knees down on the hard ground as he's running full speed towards the sound of the motorcycles.

You groan in frustration as you stand up in a small bit of pain, your fishnets torn to shit as your palms and knees are scraped just enough to bleed a reasonable amount for getting launched by a 90 lb dog of muscle.

"Riley!" You shout and run at him, dodging a few trash cans along the street's edge as you do so. "Riley, goddamnit! Come back! Here boy!" Your converse were broken in enough to give you good ground as you chased him, and you almost grab his loose leash dragging behind him- until you trip over your own feet again just before you do.

You stay on the ground this time, unworried for your dog, as he's a big boy who knows how to not get hit by a car or get lost. More focused on the soul-eating embarassment of being outrun by a dog with more anxiety than a war veteran, and tripping twice in the process. You ignore the growing and stalling sound of engines beside- or in front, you can't tell being face down in the gravel- you as you're grovelling.

"Eh... excuse me miss? Are you alright?" You hear a gruff, dark voice mumble from just above you. You whip your head up to look at 5 people in bikers helmets just in front of you, their motorcyles off or stalling as they stand looking down at you on the ground.

"Oh- oh my- uh yeah- don't worry about me I'm great. I just tripped- nothing serious." You wave them off as you try and cover the growing fluster on your face. You stand and shake the dirt off your hands before swiping it off of your zip up, shaking it out of your gloves too. You look up to see none other than Riley, sitting contently behind the man in front of you, eagerly being pet by one of the bikers with a skull design painted onto his helmet and visor.

"Riley!" The biker looks up and your dog wags his tail hard enough to knock the bikers over too, and barks at you. "You are so not going to get any treats when we get home." He whines and continues barking, then twirls in a circle.

"You're dog's name is Riley?" The man in the skull helmet asks- and you suddenly become hyperaware of how all of the bikers are staring so intently at you. And those that have spoken so far have sickeningly thick English accents.

"Ah- yes, yeah. I was just on a walk and I heard you guys from the other street- but he just loves motorcylists so much, he took off on me. Usually he just waits until they pass us by. I'm so so sorry if he got in your way or anything." You scramble to try and seem somewhat normal as you switch between standing like a deer in their headlights, and holding your arms as the wind blew against your back.

"Ain't that a funny coincidence." The biker next to him stated, his accent thicker, and different. Possibly scottish.

"You watch it- It is a good name for a dog like this." The skull-helmet points an authoritative finger at the scot before patting Riley's head again. The man in front of you laughs heartily and takes his helmet off, revealing an older- FINELY aged man with hair in a short, short pulled back light brown and gray spotted ponytail. His mustache pulled down into a scruffy beard by mutton chops, giving him a real grizzly harley-rider look. You swore your jaw dropped when he took it off, and you were quick to cover your mouth when he smiled at you.

"I'm sorry about that miss- You've got a good dog protecting you. My names John Price." He walked up and took your hand from your face, squeezing it lightly. "My boys back there are harmless. You seem to have roughed yourself up a bit." He tilts his head as he leans back and looks you up and down, still holding your hand. Oh how deeply thankful you were that he was blocking the headlights from illuminating your red face.

"Yeah- I'm fine though, really! I just, can't keep up with Riley if I tried." You laugh and tremble a little as the cold air catches up to you. He raises an eyebrow- and fuck it gets to you because it makes him smirk a little bit too.

"Well, no offense but you look like you're in no condition to walk home like that!" A woman's voice comes up from behind Price's. You squint at the light when she comes up, and you see a blonde woman about his age with smile lines and blue eyes that could knock you down to your knees yet again. "My name's Kate, don't let John here scare you, he's just an old man." They banter a bit as you stare into space, begging any ethreal being to show you a sign that this is real life.

'Fuck being bisexual, god hates me.' You curse to yourself as you smile shyly at her.

"We can give you a ride home if you'd want! I wouldn't feel right letting you have to get yourself home with blood down your legs." Price motions with his free hand at your torn fishnets, rocks littering the cuts on your leg.

"Oh- I don't want to impose or anything, and I'll have Riley!" You struggle to keep yourself still as the wind continually stings.

"Lass, you're shakin' like a leaf in this wind." The scottish man shakes his head in his helmet, leaning back against the flat of his bike.

"You ain't getting home with just a dog draggin' you forward." The gruff voice of the skull-head from beside him made you look away in embarassment. They were all right, you were blocks away from home, and you didn't have your phone on you either.

"Um.. If you're sure you don't mind... but what about Riley?"

"He can ride wi' me!" The scott excitedly patted the flat he was leaning on, shuffling a few top panels to show a compartment on the back of it that had a hooking mechanism for leashes. Assumedly he had dogs too, and how greatful you were for it.

You sigh in relief that you wont have to limp home in your misery, as strong as you are, the chunk of you lost twice to the blacktop actually hurt more than you'd ever want to admit.

Before you can take a step forward, you're lifted off your feet and holding the shoulders of Kate. She laughs as you gasp and sets you on the back of skull-head's bike so you can backpack him, right next to Riley in the odd formation their bikes created.

"I promise he's not as scary as he looks- right Simon?"

"I don't bite." He chuckles deeply and you tense against his back as he does so. "You might want to hold on tho', I'm not exactly the easiest ride." You blush, hard as he says it, and the group laughs loudly as they start their bikes.

"Oi, treat her nice Si." A soft voice jeered from the last bike to Kate's right. "Or else I'll have to take her off your hands."

"Nice try Gaz."

"Boys! Quit scarin' her." Price chuckles and lights a cigar as he revs his engine. "Or else she wont wanna see us again. Now where do you need us to take you, love?"

'Ah.' Was all that crossed your mind as you locked your arms around Simon's waist, and you all shot off down the street.

[ceruleanchillin]

I feel like biker Simon has a breeding kink too.🥴

Yes! I like the MBTI (though I acknowledge its flaws in classifying real people, I think it works perfectly for fictional characters).

Simon is most likely an INTJ, and Price an ENTJ. I think they’re very similar (I believe Gaz and Soap are the same except ISFP/ESFP respectively).

So I’d say he’s as bad as Price, he’d just be more subtle once he realizes how he feels.

Simon would probably trick you into thinking you were the one who convinced him to develop a breeding kink. But don’t be fooled.

——-

“You just have to find a kid at every party.” Simon, who was resting his head on the top of yours, purposely dug his chin into your scalp.

“Stop it,” you gently elbowed him in the ribs, careful to avoid jostling the happy little toddler in your arms. “I won’t apologize for kids loving me, it’s a good trait.”

The little girl had wandered over after you and Simon had settled on a blanket by the bonfire. The club and its associates were spread out all around you in the soft grass. The two of you had settled with each other to wind down from the party, only to be joined by a member’s daughter.

Simon had watched the brave little explorer wander over on unsure feet. She was enthralled with the pretty bracelets that littered your arm. You’d smiled, jingling the charms, and her little face lit up, hands clapping. She fell over into your lap, her wobbly legs finally giving out, and Simon bit the inside of his cheek against the warmth that flooded his chest.

This could be you and his kid someday. He could see it so clearly, that he almost missed you telling the girl’s mom you’d watch her for a bit.

He waited till the mom walked off before he leaned down, lips against your ear. “Don’t get attached, you have to give her back.”

The girl was happily babbling in your arms, responding to your cooing.

“Let’s go find you some cake and leave grumpy Uncle Simon by himself.”

You looked so good with her on your hip. It came so naturally to you. He started fantasizing again. He imagined a swell in your stomach under the tempting sundress (the one that made you both late to the party) you wore.

He could see you palming it, people asking you questions about the baby, and you talking more than you normally did in excitement.

Eager to tell the world about the life you two collaborated on.

When you walked back over with her, he could see your face glowing. You settled on the blanket, and he pulled you both into his arms. You said something, sarcastic most likely, but he was too focused on the girl holding out a piece of her cake to him.

Her pudgy hand waved it impatiently, pouting because he didn’t take her offering immediately. Simon leaned down and ate the cake from her hand, purposely nibbling her fingers, and sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Thank you f’that lovie. Was famished.” He couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips, the girl’s joy was too infectious.

He found you staring at him when he glanced at you.

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s going to have a problem giving her back.”

“You’re imagining things. Don’t lose it on me now bird, ” He cupped your lower stomach, large hands squeezing slightly. “Need you sane for our future babies. It’s all your fault after all.”

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Second Date

Was this chapter an excuse to also write biker!Simon? Maybe..

You stand by the counter of the bakery, cleaning the counter nervously as you wait. It was early, 5AM, and you were exhausted. You'd been up all night following a date with Simon. The two of you had just talked, more than you ever had previously. He’d even opened up and showed you his face. 

A bark from the front door makes you look up. Simon is standing there with Riley. You can’t stop yourself from smiling at him. You hurry over, unlocking the door for him. 

“Good morning!” you chirp, suddenly no longer tired. 

Simon smiles down at you, his brown eyes soft as they crinkle behind his mask. “S’morning,” he says. “Y’look good.” His compliment turns your cheeks pink. 

“Ah! Thank you! So do you,” you say, stepping back so he and Riley could enter. “I was thinking, there’s a break room. Maybe we could eat breakfast back there.”

Simon’s expression turns to surprise. “Is that alright?” he asks. “Shouldn’t you be up front here?”

You quickly wave off his concern. “It’s alright,” you say. “The bakery doesn’t open for a little while yet anyway. Besides, the bakers can always wrap up orders if I’m not up here for a few minutes.” You point him towards the open door behind the counter. “I’ll grab us something and be right there.”

Simon nods and walks to the breakroom, settling himself into one of the too-small folding chairs. You appear a few moments later with a pair of croissants and a couple dog treats. You close the breakroom door behind you and sit across from Simon. He only hesitates for a moment before taking off his mask and eating.

“I had a really good time yesterday,” you say. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to do that again sometime.”

“Yes,” Simon answers, far quicker than he’d meant to, making you giggle. 

“I guess you had fun too then,” you tease. “Did you want to get coffee again? Or should we do something else?”

Simon is quiet for a moment. “How do you feel about motorbikes?” he asks. 

“I’ve never been on one,” you say. “I didn’t know you rode one.” 

“On occasion,” he says. “We could take a ride up the mountain to see the sunset. If you want to.”

You watch him. You’d always thought Simon was the serious and confident type, but he was just as unsure of himself as you were of yourself. It made him far more human in your eyes. 

“I’d love to,” you say smiling, watching the way the tension in his shoulders melt. “Are you free tonight? We can meet up after I get off.”

“I’ll talk to the chief,” Simon says.

---

A few hours later, you’re locking up the bakery door. Behind you there’s a great rumbling of an engine. You turn to see a massive man on the back of a motorcycle, his helmet obscuring his face. 

“Simon?” you call out over the roar of the bike. He’s not dressed in the usual jeans and t-shirt you’re used to. Instead he’s in a black leather jacket and pants. His helmet matches his mask, a skull printed over the front of it and a pair of leather gloves with skeleton fingers on the backs. He flips the visor on the helmet up, letting you see his eyes as he reaches back and holds out another helmet for you. 

You hurry over and he helps you put the helmet on then onto the back of the motorbike. 

“Hold on tight Little Bird,” he chuckles, giving you a moment to wrap your arms around his waist before he takes off. 

At first it’s a little startling to watch the street fly past you without the safety of a car around you, but Simon knows what he’s doing as he expertly speeds out of town and towards the forested mountain. 

The ride is peaceful once you get out of town, only a couple cars passing you as they travel off the mountain. Simon drives the two of you up the mountain, glancing over his shoulder now and again to make sure you’re alright. You finally come to a stop at a little picnic area. Simon parks the bike and helps you down before hopping off himself. 

By now the sun is just starting to set. It’s colder up on the mountain, making you shiver for only a moment before Simon’s jacket is wrapped around your shoulders. Your face feels hot as you mumble a thank you. The two of you sit on a bench to watch the sunset, Simon’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close. 

“It’s beautiful out here..” you whisper. 

“You are…”

You turn quickly to look at him only to find his face just a few inches from your own, so close. He breathes your name. 

“Can I..”

“Yes..”

Simon pulls his mask down and his lips meet yours. They’re as soft as the kiss is. Gentle and wanting and all too short. Your heart is pounding and your head is spinning before you notice him standing. 

“I should get you home,” he says, pulling his helmet back on. 

--------------------------------------------

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[moth-feeet]

Biker!141 x bimbo!reader

I love them I love them I love them

[tojisun]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Bh4Xxp/

biker! simon... btw my fyp is full of hot bike dudes now 😫

GODDD THATS ADORABLE!!! and omg?? i call that a win!!! (my fyp’s full of ghost - both cod n the band teehee)

but no yea biker!simon definitely does that to tease u (unfortunately for him, it backfires)

-

because here’s the thing: you and him have created a routine now. a code. he will tap his shoulder once in question – want me to pick you up? – and he’ll wait for you to nod twice before crouching down so you can hop on his back.

and it’s this little adorable thing that the two of you know by heart. it doesn’t matter where you two are or who you are with, whenever it’s time to go simon will always tap his shoulder to ask you if you wanna be carried.

so the first time that he doesn’t do it, you’re filled with worry. you’re anxious that maybe simon’s exhausted for any extra flare right now. you inch towards him to tell him that he doesn’t have to carry you but you notice that simon isn’t moving at all. it’s not just the tap, but he doesn’t even turn to hop on his bike or anything.

he just cocks his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest, and watches you. you blink, confused, unconsciously mirroring his tilted head, and simon chuckles.

you do not hear his laughter but you do see his shoulders shake as he laughs, his voice muffled by his helmet. you frown, and it’s your turn to cross your arms this time before snubbing him because you understood what he just tried.

naturally, it’s time for payback.

you watch from the corner of your eyes as simon straightens up, his laughter dissipating and his relaxed stance being replaced by rigidity as he sees the shift in your mood.

he ambles towards you, worried, but you still do not face him, blatantly pretending to ignore him. your silence lasts for only another ten seconds before you see simon ducking down, his big body escaping your field of view, and the next you know you’re being slung over his shoulder.

you squeal, your mind still reeling over the loss of your centre of gravity, but simon’s already running around the lot, thundering past parked cars and making sharp turns that force you to grip on him for dear life.

“simon!” you scream, smacking his back, but simon just playfully slaps your ass in response before making another turn.

you can’t help it – you laugh.

/

johnny sighs as he watches simon carry you off deeper into the parking lot before snapping his visor up and looking at kyle. “you think they forgot that we’re here again?”

kyle snorts as he turns his engine off. “‘i think’? more like ‘i know’.”

johnny groans as he drops his head on his hands. great. now they’re truly going to be late for the meet up.

-

[lxvvie]

can't download this image for the life of me at the moment but I saw this:

https://pin.it/7DAKXRkL6

and it's so adorably dad!simon coded to me i'm sure it made a screw in my (half in)sane mind pop off

Biker Dad!Simon is such a badass in the streets but when it comes to his family, he's a gigantic teddy bear.

His child(ren) would be fascinated with his gear for sure, especially his helmet. They love to put it on and wear it.

Imagine putting your kid in Simon's arms when he's on the bike and they're looking up at him like "Who the bloody hell are you?", only for Simon to lift the visor or take his helmet off and it's all smiles and giggles from there because they recognize their daddy anywhere.

[frudoo]

Thank you for answering my biker 141 ask! I don't want to be greedy but... Which of the boys make the first move to show that they're interested in her? Does she think it's just the one or do they make it clear that they all want her? Thank you again! Absolutely love this 😍

This is how I imagine it going <3

Warnings: Post-sex is implied very slightly. Either way, MDNI.

The bed is messy, the sheets only covering one of your legs and one of Kyle’s. His fingertips trace random patterns along the length of your arm, his mouth still pressing featherlight kisses along your jawline. Goosebumps rise all along your body and you giggle, inching closer to bury your face in the crook of his neck in an attempt to find some reprieve. 

     “Go’ somethin’ to tell ya,” he whispers.

     “Then tell me,” you respond, planting a chaste kiss to the middle of his throat before propping yourself up on one elbow to look down at him. 

     Kyle leans up to nip at your soft jawline, using your surprise as leverage to pull you on top of him, face suddenly turning serious. You rest your palms on his chest and he holds your wrists tenderly.

     “I love you,” he says clearly, hazy brown eyes scanning over every inch of your face for a reaction.

     You smile widely, trailing one hand up his body until it reaches his pretty face. You cup his cheek in your hand, gently running the tip of your thumb over the scar that runs along the skin.

     “I love you, too,” you murmur, chewing on your bottom lip.

     You do love him, more than you thought it was possible to love anyone—but how are you supposed to tell him that you’re in love with the others as well? You care for John, Simon, and Johnny just the same, and in a perfect world, you would keep them all for yourself. 

     “We all do,” Kyle covers your hand with his, leaning into the warmth of your palm. 

     You exhale slowly, furrowing your eyebrows down at him. Did you hear him correctly, or was it just wishful thinking?

     “What?”

     “Said we all do, dove. Simon, John, Johnny… you’ve go’ all of us wrapped ‘round tha’ pretty finger o’yours, girlie,” he grins, moving your hand to his mouth so he can kiss each pad of your fingers. “Does that scare you?”

     “Not in the slightest,” you reassure him, gasping softly as his teeth bite down on the tip of your middle finger. 

     “Good,” Kyle huffs in amusement. “Because they’re all outside the door eavesdroppin’ on us.”

     Typical.

[urmomschocolatemilk]

i was on my way to fill gas and this biker pulled up next to me and all i could think abt was biker ghost and i was staring at him so hard...he was gone w the green light but now my mind is js biker ghost

[lunarw0rks]

biker!ghost? 👀👀

idk how common motorcycles are in the UK, or what kinds are, so bear with me !!

imagine being his backpack..... and hooking your arms around his waist while going for a ride.........

and at first, he was like "i don't ride with passengers" but here you are, face buried against his back as the wind works against the bike's quick speed ;)

ohhh nooo you won't have a car for the next few months, wouldn't it be a shame if he needed to give you a ride home every night, until then?

his excuse is "you shouldn't be riding public transport late at night" but we all know it's not entirely that.

[ink-n-shadow]

enjoy more older!divorced!biker!ghost (also send me thoughts/requests about him... ;-;)

QUALIFIED

𝜗𝜚 the one where odb!ghost is forced to give you a job interview (and hates how qualified you are for the job)

𝜗𝜚 pairing: older!divorced!biker!ghost x reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: slight smut at the end (minors—DNI), simon not knowing how he feels, slight mean!ghost, slight perv!ghost

(context: odb stands for "older!divorced!biker")

odb!ghost being forced to interview you (thanks to an almost too enthusiastic soap), absolutely steaming as he sits in the office that's nestled in the back of the bar and thumbs through your resumé absentmindedly. he hates just how qualified you are for the bartending job, how many references you have listed, how pretty your signature looks signed at the bottom of your cover letter, how sweet your smile looks in the photo you have tacked to the top.

he hates how early you come in for your interview, dressed up in an iron-pressed blazer with your hair pulled up and away from your big eyes. he hates the way you reach your much smaller hand out to shake his, hates the way your lotioned skin feels almost velvety against his calloused palm. he hates the way you ask him how his day has been so far in the prettiest lilting voice, hates the way his voice catches in his throat when he offers you the gruffest "s'been fine—have a seat f'me" in existence.

he does love the way you squirm in your seat when your eyes meet his for longer than a second or two. he loves the way you nervously twist at the button of your blazer every time you answer one of his questions (almost perfectly, mind you). he loves the way you roll your shoulders back and puff your chest out a bit more when he tries to undermine your abilities. he loves the way you snap back at him when he teases you a bit too much, loves the way the tips of your ears grow hot and your hands clench tightly into fists.

odb!ghost still can't decide how he feels about you even as you're shaking his hand once more, noting to him that your phone number is in your resumé should he have any questions for you. he still can't decide even when he watches your hips sway as you walk towards the exit of his office door.

the only time odb!ghost decides how he feels is after he's done fucking his cock up into his calloused and scarred fist, throwing your resumé photo somewhere off the edge of the bed and letting his head rest back against his pillows as he blinks up at the ceiling. as he catches his breath, he searches his mattress for the phone he discarded soon after he got home, fingers uncharacteristically trembling as he punches in your phone number (that he most definitely didn't memorize) and sends you a message.

Hired. Be there tomorrow at 16:00. Wear something pretty.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[fictionalmenxyn]

Don’t follow the wrong person

Biker!ghost x afab!fem!reader

F/d- favourite drink

Tw: being stalked, harassment, creep following you, panicked reader, fighting, language and intimidation (I believe that’s it)

—–—

You were currently walking towards your usual bus top, that after every shift you have working as a tattoo artist; you’d take the bus home and continue either your day or night depending how long you take.

It was the same as any other day, you wave goodbye to your co-worker and friend. You walk out the tattoo parlour and into the small mini market a few shops down to grab a small snack and drink. As you entered the shop you were soon to exit the shop with your snacked goods.

Walking over to the bus stop it was quiet today, no one sat at the stop. So you took a seat and waited for the bus. You grabbed your phone from in your jacket pocket, looking at the bus app to see where the bus was you saw that a little tab had notified ‘bus delayed by 30 mins due to traffic jams’.

You huffed and decided to walk since it’d only take you around 15 to 20 minutes to walk. So you stood up and had a quick glance around. You noticed a shady looking man stood across from you. They wore all black and had a hat on which covered his face for the time being.

You thought nothing of it yet kept an eye on them as you started your journey home.

As you walked home the sun started to set which made the even look pretty and the breeze ever so slightly stronger.

As you walked you took your ear buds out as they had just died. You sighed in annoyance and shoved them into your pant pocket. You guess someone above in the clouds must of use that as a warning of possible danger because you heard walking behind you and muffling speaking. So you glanced as you saw that very shady looking guy, he seemed to be muffling words to himself as he was alone.

You decided to pick up your pace as the evening grew closer and you felt more uncomfortable. You also noticed they too picked up their pace. Your breathe started to become more quick and you became more scared.

You knew then that they were following you making you more panicked, so you did what you were taught; you grabbed your phone and scrolled through your contacts and began to ring the one and only Simon Riley. He answered almost instantly, you whispered “Si?” He replied “hey, doll, you ok?” You whispered “uh where are you?” He spoke “I’m at the bar, why?” You answered “I’m being followed.” He asked “where are you to?” You replied “cherry vale, by James street” He said “ok, come straight to us here, don’t go to your place, then come straight to us, yeah?” You answered “ok, I’ll send you my location just in case.” You heard him hum in reply as you sent him your location.

You kept your pace fast but not fast enough to run, you don’t know how fast this person can run so you didn’t want to chance it.

—–—

You sighed in relief as you saw the brightly light sign of the bar Simon always goes to. He’s apart of a biker gang called ‘Ghosts 141’ it’s named that as Ghost was one of the first to be apart of the gang. But everyone agreed it was a good name.

You watched as the ‘snakes eye’ sign glowed brightly, you saw all the gangs bikes in a continuous row. You walked into the bar and quickly glanced back at the door seeing the person still walking towards you.

You walked over to the bar and asked “where’s Ghost?” The bartender spoke “the usual spot.” With a tilt of his head.

You looked over and headed towards their known spot. You were relieved when you saw the boys sitting and having many conversations between them. Soap spotted you first and shouted “there she is! Y/n come to join us have ya!” You nodded as you looked at Simon he stood up and asked “you alright? Have they left?” You shook your head and as you turned around the person spotted you and walked over.

You felt your spine shiver, it was revealed that the person was a man who had a very untamed beard. His appearance seemed dirty, he had greasy hair that stuck out of the bottom of his cap and his hands seemed dirty and so are his fingernails. This making you feel uncomfortable you knew it was harsh but the man had been stealing you since the bus stop. You weren’t the type to judge but this wasn’t the time to be kind to this unknown stalker.

Ghost was first to speak “can I help you, sir?”

The guy replied “no, I’m just here with my date, we were just about to grab a drink, isn’t that right?” He suggested at you. You couldn’t even speak, you still had some fear in you although Simon was standing there. You still felt uncomfortable, Simon spoke “this is your date?” The man nodded and placed an arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. You cringed at his action, he spoke “come on, let’s get going, leave these men in peace.”

You attempted to subtly shove you into walking away with him but failed. As you tripped and fell, Simon asked “what are you doing?” The guy spoke “my bad sometime I forget how strong I am.” Soap and Gaz helped you up and made sure you stood between them.

Ghost spoke “I don’t think you know who she is do you?” He nodded and spoke “I’m on a date with her, it’s our first date.” Soap chuckled and said “yeah, right” the man defended “we are! Aren’t we sweetheart.” He smirked at you showing his teeth which you cringed at. Simon spoke “are you sure? Cause last time I remember that’s my fiancée.” The guy’s smirk dropped instantly and so did his skin tone.

The guy became white as a sheet when he heard ‘my fiancée’. Simon walked over and fisted the guys shirt and spoke deeply “I think we should have a talk outside, about how you’ve been stalking her.” The guy looked at you angrily, for what you didn’t know till you heard him shout “you did it! You dressed like that! Not my fault!” Simon spoke “that’s enough!” He demanded “outside now!” As Simon practically dragged the guy out he shouted “she shouldn’t dress like that if she didn’t want me following her!” He kept making awful excuses.

You looked down at your clothing, a long black skirt with a black button up shirt and a small corset with made your what you thought ‘cute outfit’ complete. It was your uniform for work practically, you had to wear black no matter what your outfit was.

Gaz gestured you to sit and join them while Soap goes out front with Simon. The bartender brought you over a drink after watching all the commotion. He knew what you liked to drink so he made you your f/d. You thanked him as Price started up a conversation with you to ease your fears about that guy.

After some time Soap and Simon join you all, Simon kept you close that night. Making sure you were okay and that your safe.

Late evening you all decided to call it a day. You and Simon headed over to his beast of a motorcycle. God you loved when you both went on joy rides and feeling the air brush your body. Lucky for you, you were actual dropped off this morning by Simon so you had your helmet on you.

Simon helped you up onto his bike, he felt your arms wrap around his large yet attractive waist. You held him tightly as he drove through the almost empty roads. Ending the day both of you in bed laying closely and talking about your days before the incident. Times like this you were glad Simon was there to protect you at time like earlier. Also you were proud that he was protecting and making sure your safe at all times.

And he was just proud that he made you smile after a bad situation. You two are proud to say your both are soon to be happily married.



(Maybe a wedding post next time???)

Have a good day/night!🫶