Thinking about Biker!Simon busting your carâs side-view mirror after recognizing it for one that had almost ran him off the road a few days prior.
It isnât until he looks back through his own mirror as he speeds off that he realizes that it had the wrong fucking driver in it.
He finds you a few traffic light after, a crying mess. Screaming to your brother on your hands free call. He plays dumb, but you know how shit of a driver he is and just how good he is in making problems for everybody and somehow act like heâs the victim.
Youâre too distracted wiping your tears with your sleeves that the softest knock on your window makes you jump. You scream and cower from the door. But he quickly raised his hands in surrender, lifting his visor to try and get her to roll her window down to try and explain.
He ends up buying you a new mirror and sitting with you as your car gets worked on at the mechanics.
You canât help to sneak some glances to his tattoos and physique as he smokes beside you. Heâs quite the looker, and somehow youâre grateful for the opportunity your stupid brother has given you by being a moron on the road. But youâre still never lending him your car ever again.
âListen,â He breathes out the smoke, dropping it and putting it out under his boot. â âM sorry about this⌠i didnât mean to scare youâ
âItâs fine,â You shrug. leaning back against the building, looking down at your feet. âI kinda get itâ
He turned to you, taking in the sight of how you shift under his gaze. You look up at him, eyes still puffy, a soft flush spread across your cheeks and nose. The sight breaks his heart.
âDidnât mean to make a pretty thing like you cry,â You shy away from his gaze, turning to look back at your feet. His words make your face heat up.
He lets out a breathy chuckle, enjoying the way you get all flustered. âGot to make it up to ya. How does dinner on Friday sound?â
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Biker!Simon whoâs tatted uppp. Heâs 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 doesnât 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?
Oh man, picture Simon riding a jet black motorbike. Black long sleeve shirt, tight around his muscles. Red and black helmet, with a polarised visor. To anyone, he was bad news. But to you, it meant your ride home was here and you had to hurry before he thought you were talking to other people. Particularly Steve, your manager.
You worked at a bar and Simon knew your schedule like the back of his hand. He knew, also, that your regulars and coworkers could be pieces of shit who only wanted to get in your panties.
So he waited. One or two minutes late was acceptable. Five he could handle. But ten? Oh boy, you were in for a scolding.
He yelled as you came out, âWhat took you so long?â He didnât even look at you, just handed you the extra helmet, this one purple and black.
âHi Ghost, yeah, Iâm good, thank you for asking, how are you doing?â You said, smiling at him sarcastically. You were pissed off, and he wasnât helping.
âFucking Steve had to give a speech on hygiene, again. Some people donât wash their hands as often as they should.â you said as you put on your helmet and got on the bike.
He hadnât said a word yet, just stared at you. Despite his hard exterior, he was melting inside, excited to see you after a long day. You looked great, even after hours of hard work, and he had missed you particularly a lot that day.
But he couldnât demonstrate his adoration yet, he had pissed you off, and so had you, so he had to give you the same energy back.
âStill, no excuse to keep me waiting.â He said with a scowl you couldnât see behind his dark visor.
You just stared at him, trying to shoot lasers out of your eyes into his skull. âWhatever Ghost, just drive.â Itâs gonna be one of those nights, you thought.
He started driving, but you couldnât bring yourself to grab his waist like you usually did. You just held onto the underside of the seat and prayed he wouldnât go too fast. He immediately noticed you werenât touching him, grabbed your hand and put it on his waist, but you took it away, placing it back where it was. He tried again, to no avail, as you pulled back again. You werenât in the mood to touch him more than what was extremely necessary. He doesnât get to talk to you like that.
âAlright, suit yourself.â Simon muttered under his breath, as he quickly sped up. You yelped and almost fell off the bike but quickly held onto his chest, completely flushed against him.
âWhat the fuck, Simon!? I almost fell! Are you insane?!â You screamed at him, while almost asphyxiating him from how tight you were holding him.
âThen hold on tight, dove. Donât want you hurting yourself.â He was grinning under his mask, you could fucking hear it. âWe gotta get some gas before we get home, itâll only take a couple of minutes.â He knew you were tired, and despite your little argument, he still wanted you to get your eight hours of sleep. He cared more about you than anything in the world.
You huffed and nodded, still angry at him.
When you got to the gas station, Simon got off the bike to put fuel in it. God, did he look hot. Bummer he was such an asshole sometimes.
You had missed him though. You saw at least nine couples at the bar that night, and you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend, was that too much to ask?
You were still on the bike, staring at him. Without putting too much thought into it, you smacked him in the helmet where his cheek would be. He looked baffled, even with his helmet on, and you couldnât help but laugh. Youâd never done something like that. He deserved it tho. How dare he look so good and be so mean at the same time? Unacceptable.
Simon was quick to react though, and he hit you too. Playful fighting is not something you did, since he was a massive military man. You knew youâd lose. But this time you couldnât stop yourself. You hit him again, this time he was smiling too. You continued to smack each other on your heads until he actually got you good. He didnât actually hurt you all that bad, but he stopped in his tracks when you grabbed the side of your helmet.
âFuck, baby, Iâm sorry, I didnât mean toâŚâ He sounded worried, good, you thought. As he got closer and hugged you, he placed his head on top of yours. You saw your opportunity and slightly head butted him, getting your revenge. You were still giggling when he ârecoveredâ and glared at you.
âNot fair, dove, not fair.â You opened your visor and winked at him while smiling. âYou were all broody to begin with, not even saying hi to your hardworking girlfriend, someone had to show you whoâs boss.â You replied, pulling down your visor.
âI missed you, just wanted to spend more time with you, thatâs all. Shouldnât be with Steve when itâs your time off work.â He finally confessed, and he said your managerâs name with such disdain it made you laugh.
âWell, Iâm all yours now, no need to be jealousâ, you said, as he grabbed you by the chin and gave you a helmet kiss.
a/n: thanks for reading! this is based on some tik toks I saw that reminded me a lot of Ghost. English is not my first language btw. have a nice day/afternoon/night :)
Biker!Ghost who bends you over his bike and eats you out when youâre being bratty, even in front of his biker friends. And if youâre still running your mouth, wellâŚhe has three mates (Price, Kyle, Johnny) who can find a use for it.
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biker!simon who, when he drives his truck to pick you up, buckles your seatbelt for you before giving your thigh a firm squeeze
biker!simon who, when he picks you up on his bike, gives your helmet a solid pat and knocks it against his
biker!simon who, during the ride, reaches back to give one of your thighs, bracketing his on the bike, the same firm squeeze
biker!simon who, when he's buried balls deep inside you, keeps one hand cradling the back of your head, keeping your foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on yours
biker ghost, who joined some washed up mc on the west coast after leaving the militaryâmostly to have something to do and a crew to belong too. plus it helped that he loved the road, the freedom that comes with taking offâwind hitting his face even through the mask.
heâs had a few flings over the yearsâmostly sexual. he doesnât feel connected to a lot of people these days. even his club brothers. theyâre rough around the edges, good for a laugh or a fight or a beerâbut ghostâs always been something else. more violence in his past. more weight behind his silences.
they call him ghost for more than just the mask.
still, he rides with them. works on bikes in the garage behind the clubhouse. keeps a side hustle fixing old harleys for locals too broke or too stubborn to go to a shop. he doesnât say much, but people come to him anyway. something about the way he looksâsolid, scarred, unreadableâmakes people trust him.
he doesnât ask for much. just space. and the open road.
everything changes when he meets you thoughâthe girl who shows up in town with a busted engine and a smart mouth. the one who sees past the mask and his bluff. the one who makes him feel present for the first time in years.
you werenât even supposed to be there. passing through, looking for a mechanicâdefinitely not looking for trouble.
it found you anyways, the first night he sunk his cock inside of you. and againâa week later when he ate you out on his knees in the shower.
you tell yourself itâs just sex. just something rough and thrilling and hot enough to leave bruises on your hips and scratch marks down his back.
but sometimes he kisses you just to kiss you and puts you on the back of his bike like an old lady. and when you told him your favorite fruit was cherriesâhe came back the next day with your initial tattooed next to a little cherry stem on his knuckle.
and when he fucks you so good you start cryingâhe pulls you into his chest and holds you like youâre made of glass, calling you his âsweet girlâ âmessy thingâ âbaby.â
he never calls it love. not out loud. but you feel it in the way he makes room for your toothbrush in the bathroom. in the way he wipes your cheeks after, kisses your nose, fucks you so slow it feels like worship. you feel it when he snarls at a prospect who calls you âdarlinâ too casually. when he tosses his cut over your shoulders like a shield on cold nights. when he parks the bike outside your shitty rental instead of the clubhouseâjust because youâre there.
you try to play it cool. pretend itâs still just something fun. but he sees through itâevery time.
especially the night you show up at the garageâsoaked from the rain, wearing his hoodie, blinking up at him like you donât already know youâre his.
âyouâre gonna get sick,â he grumbles, dragging you inside, wrapping you up in a towel.
âthen take care of me.â
he stares at you, breath low, jaw tight under the mask.
WHEN BUNNY WANTS TO RECREATE A DREAM SHE HAD... đŚ(SOFT!BUNNY!READER x BIKER!GHOST)
your hear his bike coming down the block and you're running to the garage, the most happy smile on your face, stripping off your clothes on the way. top in the hallway...pants in the kitchen...panties right before the garage door....
'ghost! you're home!' you squeal. he can't hear you, but he can see you ready to throw yourself at him. his eyes widening at the sight of your nude body.
he's about to take off the helmet, but you're rushing to him. 'no, baby, keep it on!'
'bunny-
he's quickly closing the garage door, so the neighbors don't get any view of his precious girl.
you're clinging to his neck. 'please fuck me with your helmet on, ghost! please!'
how could he say no?
he growls. eyes darkening.
you make him harder than he's ever been. he's never been much of a really sexual person. it usually makes him fearful or just turned off or like he doesn't want it. he definitely had asexual tendencies until he met you.
blood rushing to his cock, you're stroking him over his pants, wasting no time getting your cunt on him. 'dream of you all the time, ghost. I love you so much,' you whine.
he's picking you up. 'bloody love you, bunny girl.' you're like a true gift. and he never liked those either.
he's freeing himself from his jeans, cock nudging at your slit, and your eyes are already rolling behind your head. toes curling and thighs squeezing him as you grab his length and help work him inside. he's growling. tortured little breaths leaving his throat. neck flushed with desire. you're grabbing his strong arms, the veins so juicy beneath your grip.
the real him is somehow better than dream him. 'choke me, too, ghost, please!'
your little pussy is making the biggest mess and he's obsessed with the way your slick sounds and looks as he pulls out gently to thrust back in. 'bunny, fuck-
'choke me!'
'I don't want to hurt you, love...'
'just a little..' you beg, peeking at him, lip between your teeth.
he wraps a hand around your throat, resting the weight of it on your chest. it's exactly what you're looking for. 'ghost,' you sob. hands tugging at his black t-shirt, trying your best to meet his thrusts.
