You’ve recently joined the Reapers, a biker gang in London. While out on a ride, a biker comes up to you, what happens when she starts getting closer to you ?
Part 2 : Can’t handle it, bunny ?
The Reapers decide to go after Jade, demanding explanations. What happens when her answer is exactly what you feared ?
Part 3 : Run to me, not away.
After finding you in the pub, lost in thoughts, Ghost wants answers. But the reason you ran, is deeper than he could’ve imagined. How will he react ?
Part 4 : You belong here.
You learn there's a bike meet tonight, of course Ghost's reluctant to let you go, but Leyla convinces him. What happens when you get the opportunity to prove yourself?
Part 5 : "Remember ?"
A mysterious package is delivered to the Reapers' adress and it's in your name. It's content makes you relive a nightmare you thought you had buried. How will Ghost react ?
content warning : description of accident, talk about injury.
content details : fem reader, bikergang!TF141, original characters, non canon personalities, english is not my first langage, my knowledge for bikes and gangs only go so far x), use of kilometers and centimeters.
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Joining the Reapers never was part of the plan, I mean.. does anyone ever plan on joining a biker gang ? Don’t get me wrong, it’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a while, you have friends, an apartment, a job, a place to share your passion for bikes.. It's paradise. But it’s also a gang. Where you could pretty much get killed at any given point just for being a member, where you learn to handle a gun and a knife. Does it scare you ? No.
You’re used to this, you know how it works, this isn't your first rodeo, in a way. You’re good at close hand combat, you’re a quick rider and you know how to make yourself disappear in any crowd, making you a great asset. So no, this doesn’t scare you, you’re just a newbie who’s been slowly blending in.
Speaking of, the boys just came back from a job, you’re not sure what though, you’ve only been a member for 6 months so they don’t exactly tell you everything - yet -. Soap and Leyla are the first to walk into the shop, from what you’ve understood, they’ve been together for 10 years already (Jesus Christ). Soap’s funny, but man is he scary in action. Trust me you don’t want this guy to beat you up. He’s also incredibly sweet with 8 year old Timmy, their son. Everybody loves the kid.. he’s got his father’s energy and his mother's intelligence. By the way, Leyla ? Coolest woman you’ve ever seen. Dark long hair, tall, black eyes, a sports bike that matches them.. I want to be like her when I grow up.
Then they’re followed by ‘i know my hair is grey but i’m still young at heart’ Price, and Gaz, they’re an unusual duo, but they work really well together. Price lives in the apartment right next to yours and he’s always dropping off your mail for you or even offering you whatever he spent an hour cooking. Sweet guy. Gaz’s kinda like Soap, but younger, he isn’t the best with bikes but he’s a great bartender. He works at the Reaper’s bar any shift he can.
And finally, the boss walks in. His boots making him heard before he’s seen. Gosh is that man hot. Ok ok i know, he’s your boss, but he’s barely older !! Plus that balaclava makes his hazel eyes pop and that black gear is hugging his muscles in all the right places..
“Hey Speedy” Soap greats you, he’s been calling you that since he saw you ride for the first time, he was really impressed with how easily you went 150 km/h in a 40 zone. “Hope you haven’t forgotten our mission for the day”
“No I haven’t” You smile, finishing to put your hair up. “It’s my first actual assignment too”
“Don’t get your stomach in a knot” he takes a second to think if that’s a real expression then continues “If anything it’s routine. We just grab our bikes, make a few rounds around our territory, pick up your Reapers jacket and come back”
“You’re kinda leaving out the part where we drive past other gangs yeah ?”
“Speedy, have some faith in me, yeah ? You’ll be fine”
“Okay okay” You chuckle, putting your helmet on.
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Soap was right, this is routine.
You feel so light, so free like this. The end of your hair flying softly in the wind, your bike purring, the vest hanging on top of your gear that lets everyone know you’re a part of the Reapers.. It had been an eternity since you've felt like this, like you're a part of something, like your name holds power.
You barely rode past any other biker, it was just you and Soap.
“” Hey so, why do we need to ride around like this ? Is it to remind others we exist ?”” you ask through your intercom
“”Pretty much, it serves as a reminder that this is our territory and nobody’s allowed to claim it.””
“”Do people often try ? To claim it ?””
“”More than you think, they park their bikes outside the shop, wear our symbols.. They think it pisses us off but we really don’t care, they’re all barks but no bite.””
“”What should I do if I come across another gang ?””
“”As long as they’re not harassing you ? Be chill, do not start the convo, don’t look at them weird, just go on about your business.””
You nod, registering the info. You continue riding for a while, the sunny but not too hot weather making it a particularly nice day.
Until Soap gets a call, letting you know his girl needs him at the shop and that he needs to go. You wave him goodbye and exhale, straightening your posture.
You’re alone. A smirk appears across your face at the realization.
Your grip around your handlebars tightens, there it is. The world around you disappears, your heartbeat fastens, your eyes focus. And you accelerate, faster, precision flooding your trajectory. You pass cars, buses, other bikes. Nothing can stop you like this.
80..90…100….110…..120, the numbers are flying on your dashboard, and you smile so widely. Your body smoothly adjusting its weight distribution to match the road, your muscle memory working impeccably.
After a good 20 minutes of breaking (many) road laws.. you end up slowing down, waiting at a red light, when another biker pulls up beside you.
The woman on the other bike looks at you, her hair whipping in the wind. "Hey!" She calls out over the sound of engines.
“Hi” you wave.
The woman gives you a friendly smile, her eyes briefly scanning your bike before meeting your gaze. "Nice ride," she says, her voice slightly raised to be heard over the wind and engines.
She's clearly a biker herself, wearing a black leather jacket and jeans, with a black and green bike to match.
“Thanks you too !” You notice her all green helmet, where have you seen that before ?
She grins at your compliment, adjusting her gloves. "Appreciate it."
Your eyes linger on that green helmet—something about it nags at you. Then it clicks: The Green Devils. Rival crew. Small, but fast. And not exactly friendly with The Reapers.
Before you can react, she tilts her head slightly, voice casual but sharp underneath: "You're the newbie, right? Ghost's pet project?"
“Excuse me ?” you frown, shoulders tightening.
The woman seems unfazed by your cold tone, her smile never faltering. In fact, a subtle edge appears in her eyes as she studies you.
"Oh, don't act all innocent," she says, the words smooth and laced with a hint of mockery. "We all know you're under Ghost's wing. His pet."
“And who the fuck are you ?” you bite back, the light turning green, shifting from neutral to first gear.
“Nobody important sweetheart.” She smirks, accelerating.
“Clearly. ”
She laughs at that, before slowing down a little, the green of her helmet making you angrier each passing second. “You’re also in my territory, love.” She adds.
Shit. “I’m not doing anything, you’re the one all up in my face.”
She gets closer to you, revving her bike. “Just get this ok ? Ghost’s mine, stay away.”
And before you can say anything else, anger flaring through you, she pushes into you, sending you crashing.You barely have time to catch yourself, your bike losing balance with the force of her blow. Before you can recover, she's already speeding off, her green helmet disappearing into the distance.
You land 15 meters away from your bike, thankful to be on an urban road and not the highway, only a few vehicles passing by. Cursing under your breath, you check for damages to yourself and your bike.You grit your teeth, clutching your leg as pain pulses hot and sharp.
“FUCK” you cuss out, adrenaline pumping through you.
You limp your way to your bike, noticing chipped paint but no big damages.
You take a deep breath to compose yourself before lifting the bike up, pain washing over your entire body as you do so. “fuck” you exhale shakily, feeling weak.
The ride back to the Reaper’s is a blur of pain and anger, your mind still spinning with what happened. “Just go on about your business” Soap words echo through your head. You shouldn’t have answered, you should’ve minded your business. And what was her deal anyways ? “Ghost’s mine” She’s probably her ex or something, urgh. Why does this always happen to you?
You finally reach your destination, noticing the busy shop and the bar that’s always crowded with people. You sigh, praying not to see anybody.
You come into the shop from the backdoor, making your way to the stairs that lead to the crew’s apartments. This is gonna be a breeze. You sigh, bracing yourself for the pain your thigh is about to give you.
You groan, each step harder to climb than the previous, “fuckass stairs” you mumble.
As you reach the top, looking for your keys, you fall face to face with Timmy, Soap’s 8 year old son. “Oh.” you breathe, “Hey bud”
Timmy looks up as you arrive, surprise on his face. His eyes widen at the sight of you, taking in your disheveled appearance, bruised and weary.
"You don't look so good," he comments honestly, tilting his head as he studies you.
“No buddy I- I’m all good” you smile, giving him a thumbs up “I just need a shower”
Timmy squints his eyes at you skeptically, clearly not convinced. He may be just a kid, but he's perceptive enough to see that you're more than "all good."
But as you give him a tired smile and open your door, he simply shrugs, deciding not to press the matter. "Alright then..." he mutters, watching you disappear into your apartment.
As you close your front door behind you, you exhale, grateful to be home. But less grateful about needing to deal with whatever bruises the crash left you.
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Timmy continues his journey down the stairs, before finding a good part of the crew seating in the common area. He finds his dad, walking up to him.
“Dad I have a question”
Soap looks up from his beer, "Aye? What is it, son?" he asks, his other hand ruffling his son’s hair.
“What happened to Speedy ?”
Soap’s hand stills. His eyes narrow slightly, the easygoing dad gone in a heartbeat.
"What d’you mean, what happened?" he asks, voice low, calm, but with an edge creeping in.
"Did you see her?" Timmy nods slowly. "She looked weird”
Timmy now has Soap, Ghost and Gaz’s attention.
All the men in the group turn to focus on Timmy now, their expressions hardening. Soap shifts in his seat, the easy banter from before completely replaced with a tense, alert silence.
"Looked weird how?" Soap prompts, his grip on his beer glass tightening.
he shrugs “I don’t know, walked funny”
The group exchange a series of looks, and that simple statement instantly sets off alarm bells in their heads.
Soap frowns and Gaz speaks up. "You mean, she was limping?"
he frowns “I don’t know that word”
Gaz leans forward slightly, voice softening. "Did she look like she was hurt? Like... walking stiff or in pain?"
“Hmm..I don’t know, she looked sad”
The simplicity of Timmy's observation hits them like a punch. "Sad?" Soap repeats, tone quiet but sharp.Gaz and the others share a look, the same understanding passing between them: there's something about this situation that's off.
“I’ll check” Ghost stands up
Ghost doesn’t wait for a response. He pushes his chair back with a sharp scrape, the chair’s leather creaking as he moves. He heads for the stairs, long deliberate strides despite the tension in his shoulders. The mask hides his expression, but the set of his jaw? Hard as stone. Something’s wrong.
Meanwhile, Ghost reaches your door and knocks.
"Speedy?" he calls out, voice rough but with a slight edge of concern.Ghost waits a moment, listening for any signs of movement or a reply. When nothing but silence greets him, his brows furrow beneath the mask. He knocks again, louder this time. "Oi, it's me. Open up."
“Holy shit” you mumble, looking at the state of your apartment, there’s bandages on your coffee table, sewing kit on your kitchen counter, your helmet’s on your bed.
“Coming !” you stumble on a pile of clothes you left on your floor, you cuss, repeating louder “Give me a sec !!”
His eyes narrow behind the mask at the sound of cursing. His thoughts race—something is definitely off. He crosses his arms, waiting for you to open the door.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he hears the sound of the latch unlocking, the door slowly creaking open.
“Hi boss” you’re a little out of breath, holding your door “whats up ?”
Ghost takes in the sight of you, taking in every little detail. The way you’re holding the door, the strained breathing... he can tell something is wrong.
But he's not one to make assumptions, so he keeps his expression stoic. "Can I come in?"
“Huuuuhhh” you look behind you “it’s a mess in here” you chuckle, pulling the door closer so that he can’t really see the mess behind you.
His gaze darts over your shoulder to the sight of medical supplies scattered everywhere. His eyes narrow slightly, his suspicion confirmed. He steps forward, pushing past your weak attempt to keep him out. "I don't care about mess." He mutters as he walks in.
Oh and now he’s coming in ? Great just great.
With a swift move, he closes the door behind him, shutting out the outside world.
He takes a look around, eyes briefly taking in the chaos of medical supplies everywhere. "Sit." he orders, voice firm but with a hint of concern.
“Oh god what did I do ?” you ask nervously, sitting
His gaze sharpens as you take a seat, the way your voice wavers and the obvious concern in your eyes only confirming what he's already figured out. He stands there, looming over you with his arms crossed.
"Show me your leg." His tone is authoritative, leaving no room for argument.
You frown “excuse me ?”
He doesn't flinch, doesn't blink. Just stares at you with that cold, unrelenting intensity.
"Your leg," he says again, voice lower now, but firm "You're limping. You're hurt. Show me."
No room for denial. No room for pride.
He already knows.
You freeze a little, chuckling “what.. hum. How ?”
The way you freeze only solidifies his suspicion. He notices the hitch in your voice, the way your body tenses up.
He takes a step forward, his shadow falling over you. "Don't play dumb," he mutters. "I can see it in the way you walk. You're trying not to wince with every step."
“Ok ok fine” you mumble, “maybe i am limping but i promise you-”
“I don’t care, show me.” he orders.
You take off your sweatpants, regretting your choice of underwear, pulling your shirt to hide it, it’s a bit awkward, standing pantless in front of your boss like this. You reveal a big purple bruise on your right thigh.
His eyes focus on your thigh as the fabric of the sweatpants comes off, and the moment the injury is revealed, his breath catches in his throat.
The size of the bruise, the angry purple color...it's worse than he thought.
"Jesus Christ..." he mutters under his breath.
“Looks worse than it is” you chuckle
Those words only fuel the storm of emotions building up inside him. Anger, concern, frustration, guilt, each one threatening to break through his composure.
"Like hell it does," he mutters, the words gruff and sharp. He takes a step closer, his eyes locked on the ugly mark marring your skin.
"How the hell did this happen?"
You sigh, putting your pants back on “I..” you clear my throat “kinda got pushed” you say guilty, mad at yourself, “real fucking dumbly too”.
"Pushed?" He growls, the word a barely contained snarl. "Pushed by who?"
You groan, wiping my face “I was so dumb boss this- bitch ! Comes up to me talking about my bike, i obviously don’t notice her bright neon helmet at first and before I knew it she pushed me like a fucking, firth grader in a playground”
His jaw clenches "She just...pushed you?" he grits out. The thought of someone deliberately causing you harm, of hurting you like that, ignites something raw and vicious within him.
“Well yeah making me fly onto the fucking ground for like 15 meters as she drove away”
"You didn't get a look at her? At her bike, her face, anything?"
You pass a hand through your hair “huh.. she had a green and black BMW, black hair.. think she was a Green Devil.”
"You said she drove away?" you nod in answer
His expression darkens further, he exhales sharply through his nose. "You're not going out alone again," he says "Not until I find out who the hell she is—and why she thinks she can touch one of mine."
You scoff at the last bit, looking at your hands.
The scoff isn't lost on him. He notices the way you scoff at his possessive statement, the way you look away. It only fuels his anger further, the idea that you'd mock his protectiveness.He steps closer, filling your space "You got something to say, say it," he warns.
“No no it just made me think of what she said” you mimic her voice “stay away from Ghost he’s mine” you roll your eyes, the thought of her still making you mad.
His breath hitches, just slightly. His fists clench at his sides. And then, a low dark chuckle escapes him. Not amused. Dangerous.
"Did she now?" he says, voice rough "Some girl with a green bike thinks she owns me?"
“Apparently” you sigh “anyway my bike is fine, I’ll need to check the tires tomorrow”
He can't help but find irony in your attitude, talking about a bike repair while you're bruised and hurt. "Forget about the damn bike," he says with a scoff, "You're hurt and you're worried about a tire?"
“It’s not like I’m dying or anything!! And yes I’m worried about my bike”
His eyes flash with irritation, the irritation at you being so nonchalant about your injury. "Not dying? You're bruised and you can barely walk but 'you're fine’?" he raises his voice
“Don’t yell, please” you say a bit more quietly, warning.
The change in your tone hits him like a bucket of cold water, snapping him out of his anger for a moment. He realizes that his tone has risen, his irritation evident in the gruffness of his voice.
"I'm not yelling," he mutters, a hint of guilt in his tone. "But damn, you're being so... casually dismissive of your own injury. Like it doesn't even matter to you."
“I swear I’m okay, my leg will already be better tomorrow”
He studies you for a moment, taking in your defiant expression and your insistence on downplaying your injury. The way you dismiss it, as if it's nothing, just irritates him further.
"You really think your leg will just heal overnight?" He says, disbelief evident in his tone. "You literally can't walk without wincing in pain. That 'bruise' is dark enough to see from space. You're not fine."
You stand up “just- I won’t heal overnight but I’ll be a bit better. I am fine.”
The moment you stand, he sees it—the subtle shift in your weight, the way your body tenses to keep from flinching. You’re trying. But he knows pain when he sees it.
He steps forward, looming over you without meaning to. "Fine? Fine doesn't mean limping like a wounded dog or hiding bruises under clothes."
A beat. Then softer: "...Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"
“Oh” you didn’t expect that question “I don’t know I- felt guilty and really wanted to shower to think”
The admission catches him off guard. Guilt. That's what you felt.
"Guilty." He echoes, the word leaving his lips with a hint of disbelief.
"You got shoved, hurt. And instead of telling me, you hid it because... what? You felt guilty?"
He takes a step closer, looking down at you with a mix of frustration and something deeper. "Why the hell feel guilty?"
“Because I should’ve been so much more observant and focused ! Soap warned me literally this morning, reminding me not to engage with other gangs”
He lets out a short, bitter laugh, half anger, half disbelief. "So that's it? You got ambushed by some psycho on a bike and you're the one at fault?"
Simon steps in, his voice dropping low and rough. "Listen to me—shit happens when you're not expecting it. Doesn't make you weak. Doesn't make you stupid."
His hand lifts, almost like he wants to touch your shoulder—but stops himself.
"...And it damn sure doesn’t mean you don’t tell me."
“Sorry”
His expression softens at the way you say 'sorry'. It's strange, the way that simple word softens his anger. "Don't." he says firmly, the one word laced with a mix of protectiveness and irritation."Don't say 'sorry' like you've done something wrong."
He steps even closer, his voice dropping to a near growl. "I'm pissed at that psycho girl, not you. You hear me?"
You nod.
He lets out a deep breath, the anger slowly bleeding out of him. He looks at you for a moment—taking in the sight of you. The way your shoulders slump, the hint of guilt in your eyes.
His hand lifts again, this time connecting with your shoulder. A firm, yet gentle touch, like a silent reassurance.
"You're a pain in the ass, y'know that?" he mutters, his voice rough but softer than before.
You chuckle “don’t talk to me about pain in the ass”
He lets out a low chuckle at your retort, the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.
"Yeah, yeah..." He gives your shoulder a light squeeze. "Smartass."
His eyes soften, the irritation in them giving way to a hint of fond annoyance.
“I’ll see you tonight?”
He nods, hand lingering for just a second longer before dropping. "Yeah. For the game."
A beat. Then, gruffly: "Stay off the bike 'til then."
And with that he leaves your apartment, the ghost of his hands gripping your shoulders making you feel funny. Wishing they were still on you, grounding you, promising to beat the crap out of anyone who tried to touch you.
masterlist // series masterlist // part 1 // part 3
Pairing : biker!Simon Riley x biker!Reader
Content warning : violence, weapons, description of wounds.
Content details : bikergang!TF141, fem reader, original characters, English is not my first language, I only know so much about bikes and gangs.. lol
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The sun filters through the dusty windows of the shop as you kneel beside your bike, wrench in hand. The scrape of metal on metal echoes slightly in the garage as you work to inspect the damage from yesterday’s accident. Your entire body is sore, you barely slept last night, the painkillers can only do so much.
Leyla dropped by earlier, offering help to work on your bike, which you politely declined. You’re embarrassed enough by how this happened, you don’t need other people looking at your failure from up close.
You sigh, wiping the slight sweat off of your forehead. You don’t hear him at first, but then boots on concrete echo slowly through the garage, making you turn around.
"Thought I told you to rest" Ghost steps into view, arms crossed, balaclava in place, eyes locked right on you.
“I did, I slept” you smile
He lets out a low grumble, eyes taking in your form ; the dirt on your clothes, the tool in your hand, the bike in front of you..
"Sleeping and resting aren’t the same thing, you smartass..."
You roll your eyes, before remembering,“Oh by the way there's a customer up front that wants to see you”
He narrows his eyes at the change of subject, clearly not done with the whole 'rest' conversation. But the mention of a customer distracts him.
"Customer, huh?" He quirks an eyebrow. "What for?"
You shrug “not sure”
He rolls his eyes, not one to particularly enjoy surprises.
"Helpful as always," he mutters, sarcasm dripping from his ton, but curiosity gets the better of him. "Guess I better see what they want then."
You're too distracted by the sight of Ghost deep in conversation with the customer, whatever is being discussed, it's got him frowning beneath that balaclava.
"Whacha looking at?" Timmy's voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone curious and innocent.
“Oh hi Timmy ! Just wondering what Ghost and the customer are discussing”
Timmy cranes his neck, trying to get a good look at the scene.
"Dunno. But it doesn't look like Ghost is happy," he says, tone slightly intrigued. "Maybe something serious?"
“He never looks happy” you chuckle
Timmy giggles in agreement, his eyes still fixed on Ghost and the customer.
"True," he says, grinning widely. "He's like a grumpy old man. All the time."
“Yep” you chuckle “hey by the way thank you for worrying about me last night”
Timmy's face lights up at your words and he gives you a bright smile. "You're welcome!" he smiles, revealing a missing baby tooth. "You looked really sad. Are you feeling better now?"
Just then, the sound of a door closing catches both of your attention. Ghost steps out from the room, eyes flicking to you and Timmy before focusing on you. His expression is unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders is evident even from a distance.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he says once he's close enough. His voice is gruff, as always, but there's a hint of something beneath it.
“Uh yes sure” you take a minute to stand up, body still super sore “whats up ?”
He watches you rise with a sharp eye, noticing the stiffness in your movements. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t comment on it.
Instead, he lowers his voice so only you can hear. "That customer? Knows someone from the Green Devils."
His eyes lock onto yours, intense and unreadable behind the mask. "Says they heard something... about a girl on a green BMW targeting Reapers."
“oh” you cross my arms, “did you get other complaints reported ?”
He nods, the intensity in his eyes growing. "Yeah, 'Oh'," he repeats, voice rough.
"This isn't the first time we've heard about this girl," he adds, the words almost a growl. "But this is the closest she’s gotten to one of us."
“Really ? What did he know ?”
"Not much," he admits, his tone sharp. "Says her name is Jade. Big fan of causing trouble, real reckless. A thrill seeker."
He pauses, his eyes never leaving yours.
"And she's got it out for us."
"Yeah, great," he echoes, sarcasm dripping from the word.
"There's one more thing..."
You sigh “great”, already knowing this is gonna make you hate the bitch more.
"According to this guy...she's been asking questions. Specifically about you."
“What ?” You frown.
He nods, the intensity in his eyes unwavering.
"Yeah. Apparently she's been going around, trying to get info on you. Your routine. Your hangout spots. Hell, even your goddamn bike."
“I’ve never heard of her in my life I don’t understand”
He lets out a low grumble, the frustration in his eyes mirroring your confusion.
"Join the club," he mutters, shaking his head. "This is... odd to say the least."
His jaw clenches. "But she's clearly fixated on you. And she hasn't exactly been subtle about it."
You sigh, running your hands through your hair
“boss I promise you I’ve never met her before”
“And I trust you, I just want us to understand what she wants from you, from us.”
A beat passes as you both think, before you speak again,
“I have an idea”
His eyes narrow slightly, studying your expression. He knows that look, when you get an idea, it usually means trouble.
"Alright," he says slowly, curious. "What're you thinking?"
“We could trick her ?”
Ghost pauses for a moment, considering your words. The thought of setting a trap for this mystery girl is definitely tempting.
He cocks an eyebrow, his interest piqued.
"And how do you plan on doing that?" he asks, arms crossing over his chest
“We sit you down in a bar near their territory, the Hugo is a spot where they often hang around, with a girl that has the same hair color as me, park my bike outside. If she shows up, we’ll have a.. chat with her”
"You're suggesting we use you as bait," he clarifies, his tone a mix of approval and skepticism.
“I mean we might as well give her what she wants”
He can't argue with that logic. If this Jade is as fixated on you as that customer said, she'll take the bait.
He stares at you for a long beat,then lets out a sharp chuckle.
"Yeah," he mutters, shaking his head. "Reckless little shit.”
His voice drops, dark and dangerous. "Fine. We set the trap."
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Later that day a good amount of the Reapers are gathered around a conference table (which Leyla found a way to install behind the shop somehow) after Ghost called for a meeting. The gang hadn’t sat down together like this in a while, so this is a good opportunity.
“Alright” Ghost clears his throat, standing up straight, arms crossed. (Dude has like two emotes don’t blame him) “Some of you might’ve heard the Green Devils have been interessed of us, especially one of their members, Kory Hughs which is known as Jade.”
The name sets a colder tone to the room, some shoulders tensing, this is clearly not her fanclub. “Recently she crossed a line. While she had been noisy and pushy with some of you, she attacked one of us.” A few surprised whispers echo across the room. “She sneaked up on Speedy and pushed her of her bike, making her crash, damaging her bike and well.. herself.” People turn to look at you, surprised, especially Gaz and Price who hadn’t been informed.
“Did you get injured ?” Price asks, his fatherly demeanor unmistakable.
“Nothing, a few days of rest won’t heal.” You smile, not wanting to worry him, he grunts in answer, knowing you ? that probably meant you were injured- bad.
“We’ve let things get too far, and today this stops. Because we have much more important things to deal with than a Green Devil ‘pick me’.”
You chuckle at that, turning to face the gang and not Ghost, “That’s why we came up with a plan”
People turn to look at you, surprised, intrigued.
“Since she’s cleary fond of me, we think we could easily trap her, make her think i’m alone, reachable, make her come to us. And when she does, well..” You shrug, chuckling, “payback’s a bitch right ?”
The table falls silent for a moment as everyone processes the plan.
There's a beat before Soap pipes up "I've got a suggestion."
He taps the table. "We should put out a fake call, say Speed’s bike is having trouble. Park it in neutral ground, easy to spot."
A beat.
"Let her think she’s walking into an easy win."
“Ok but how ?”
Ghost leans in, his voice low and rough. "Simple. We spread the word through the usual channels, say Speddy’s bike’s down for repairs at Ricky’s."
His eyes glint with a dark kind of amusement. "And we just so happen to mention she’ll be there, alone… checking on it."
This gets a nod of everyone, a silent agreement shared.
“Alright then, to the Ricky we go.”
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The garage at Ricky’s is dimly lit, the air thick with oil and anticipation.
Your bike sits out front—exposed. Vulnerable. Just like planned.
You stand near it, pretending to inspect the tire, heart pounding just a little too fast. The others are hidden, Gaz on the roof, Soap and Ghost in the back alley, Price watching from across the street.
You feel the slightest tremor pass through your hands, not fear, adrenaline.
But you kinda really hope she’ll show up alone. Taking a beating from a couple of buff bikers doesn’t sound appealing right now.
Then a sound cuts through the silence, the distant rumble of an engine.
She's coming.
The sound grows louder as the engine gets closer, and when it gets into view, you recognize it; A sleek, black BMW motorcycle rounds the corner, the engine growling like a hungry predator. It slows down as it nears the garage, the rider clearly scanning the area for something, or.. someone?
You force yourself to remain calm, pretending you haven’t noticed her.
The BMW rolls to a stop a few feet away, the driver cutting the engine. For a moment, nothing. Just silence.
Then, the sound of boots on concrete. Soft. Dangerous. A woman's footsteps, slowly approaching.
The footsteps approach slowly, each one like a count down. She's getting closer.
You keep your eyes fixed on the bike, every inch of your body tense. You can practically feel her gaze on you. And then, the moment you've all been waiting for : the footsteps stop right behind you.
You turn around, findind yourself face to face with Jade. You give her a tight smile.
Jade stands there, a smirk on her face, "Well," she drawls, her voice smooth "Look who we have here."
“Didnt think I’d see you again Jade”
Jade's smirk falters for just a split second, you know her name. That wasn't part of the plan.
But she recovers fast, tilting her head like a predator sizing up prey. "Cute. You did your homework."
Her eyes flick to your bike, then back to you, sharp, calculating.
"Too bad it won’t help you."
You coo “too bad” before you hit her full force into the chin, knocking her right out
Jade doesn't even see it coming, one second she's smirking, the next she's sprawled flat on the ground, knocked out cold.
Behind the garage, Soap lets out a sharp laugh. "Damn ! that was beautiful."
“She might not be out for long let’s go”
Ghost emerges from the shadows like a wraith, his boots silent on the concrete. He grabs Jade by her collar, effortless and slings her over his shoulder.
"Back alley. Now." His voice is low, urgent.
The Reapers move fast. They move through the back alley, Ghost leading with Jade unconscious over his shoulder. You and Soap flank him on either side, weapons out, watching for any trouble.
Price is the last of the group, his eyes scanning the rooftops, always vigilant.
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Jade's eyes flutter open slowly, her head still groggy from the blow. The first thing she becomes aware of is the cold concrete floor against her face, the bitter taste of gravel in her mouth. She tries to push herself up, but a strong hand holds her down, pinning her in place. Her eyes dart around, taking in her surroundings.
And then, she sees the Reaper’s symbol on Soap’s vest. Fully armed and ready.
Jade's eyes widen in panic. "Wh-what the hell?!"
The Reapers stand in a rough circle around her, their guns trained on her like a pack of wolves closing in for the kill. Price stands directly above her, his gaze almost glacial in its intensity.
He crosses his arms, eyes narrowing. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
Ghost steps forward, his voice low and cold.
"Start talking, Jade. What's your game?”
You hear the faint grunt from Jade, probably trying to fight through the pain, refusing to give in.
Ghost crouches down in front of her, slow and deliberate.
"Last chance," he growls. "Talk. Or we do this the hard way."
Jade spits on the ground, her eyes flashing with defiance. "You think you're intimidating me?" She sneers, even though her voice is a bit slurred from the blow. "I'm not scared of you."
Price stabs her in the thigh, no hesitation, just precision.
Jade's entire body jolts, a cry of pain escaping her lips. Blood immediately seeps through her jeans where Price drove the blade.
"Maybe not scared," Price rumblesl, "But you're going to talk. One way or another."
Ghost watches the scene with hard eyes, but says nothing, letting Price take the lead.
Jade grits her teeth, panting through the pain. You can see the anger in her eyes, frustration and fear mixing with it like a toxic cocktail.
"What– what do you want from me?!" she manages to spit out.
“No no, what do you want from us- from Speedy here ?”
Jade falters for a moment, her gaze darting between you and the other Reapers.
"That's...complicated," she mutters, still trying to appear defiant.
Jade's gaze drifts away, her voice suddenly very small. "I... I was hired," she mutters.
Ghost's eyes narrow at that, his tone dropping low. "Hired. By who?"
Jade hesitates, clearly reluctant to give up her employer. But under the intense stares of the Reapers, she finally relents.
"His name...is Ivan Sokolov," she mutters, the fear and hesitation clear in her voice. "He's a... a powerful man.
No.
no no no non no no.
no.
no no no no
This is not happening.
No.
it can’t.
The world around you disappears, heartbeat louder than any engine. Your palms are suddenly sweaty, your bike suit too tight. You take a step back, then two, your body acting on its own.
Your reaction to the name doesn't go unnoticed. The Reapers notice the way you tense up, your eyes dropping to the floor.
Price's gaze flickers to you, concern flashing in his eyes for a moment.
A hard chuckle escapes you, loading your gun. “He doesn’t know me.” You snarl, before shooting her in the shoulder. “Bitch”
The gunshot rings out like thunder in the enclosed space.
Jade screams, clutching her shoulder as blood blooms across her jacket. The boys surprised by the sudden gunshot all look at you, and before they can process it, you’re already walking away.
Ghost doesn't stop you, he knows that look in your eye. That rage. That name did something to you.
And he’s not about to get between you and whatever demon just resurfaced.
But as you storm off, muttering under your breath, Ghost turns his cold gaze back to Jade, now bleeding, broken, terrified.
"Now," he says quietly. "You're going to tell me everything about Sokolov."
Jade is clearly in pain, her eyes widening in terror at the threat. But she's also terrified of Sokolov, that much is clear.
"He'll kill me," she gasps, her voice tinged with panic. "If I tell you anything, he'll kill me."
“Not if we kill you first” Price says
Jade swallows hard at Price's words, a cold sweat blooming across her forehead. She's clearly terrified now, caught between two terrifying options.
"I..." she stutters, her eyes darting between the grim faces of the Reapers. "Please.. please, you don't understand—"
“Start talking.” Price says
Jade trembles, blood dripping from her shoulder, breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
"Alright! Alright!" she gasps, desperation cracking her voice. "Sokolov ! he’s Russian. Runs half the underground trades from Liverpool to Leeds. Arms… drugs… people."
She swallows hard. "He wanted information on The Reapers, your movements, your routes." Her eyes flick to where you stormed off. "And...he specifically asked about her. The girl."
A beat.
"He said...she took something from him years ago."
Silence falls like a blade.
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“What kind of thing?” Ghost asks
Jade glances from Ghost to Price, her expression filled with fear. "He...he didn't say. Just that it was important, s-something valuable. Something that belonged to him."
“Leave her the fuck alone you hear me ?” Soap barks.
The quiet intensity in Soap's voice makes Jade shrink back, the color draining from her face.
"Y..Yes," she stutters, her voice a whisper. "I hear you."
“Good” he shoots her in the thigh, exactly where she was previously stabbed by Price “next time I’ll do your head.”
A strangled, pain-laced cry is torn from Jade's lips as the bullet hits her thigh. She crumples blood pooling around her legs.
The message is loud and clear : the Reapers don't tolerate threats.
Price turns back to Soap, a silent question in his eyes. "Take her phone. I want to know who she's been in contact with."
He nods, doing so.
Soap quickly rifles through Jade's pockets, retrieving her phone. It's a relatively new model, with a cracked screen and several missed calls.
"Got it," he mutters, holding it up for the others to see.
Price takes the phone, scrolling through the call log. His eyes scan each name, searching for anything related to Sokolov.
“Let’s get out of here” Ghost says
The Reapers nod in agreement. This place is suddenly a lot less secure, now that they've been here this long. Plus, they're all itching to know what's up with you.
"Right," Price gravels, tucking the phone into his pocket. "Let's move out."
The Reapers begin filing out, Soap taking up the rear, keeping an eye on Jade. They're all on edge, every instinct screaming at them to get out fast.
Price falls into step beside Ghost, his voice low and gruff. "You see the look on her face when she heard that name?"
“Yeah” he answers
Price grunts in agreement, his eyes flicking to your retreating form. "Sokolov." he repeats, eyes narrowing. "I've heard that name before. But I can't remember where."
when they reach the Ricky’s parking, Ghost stops short.
You’re no where to be found, and neither is your bike.
masterlist // series masterlist // part 4 // part 6
Pairing : biker!Ghost x biker!Reader
Content warning : talks about miscarriage, description of overwhelming feelings.
Content details : bikergang!TF141, fem!reader, original characters, I only know so much about gangs and bikes, English is not my first language.
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This morning you're alone in the shop, the boys are out on a ride and Leyla and Kyle are working on hacking the camera surveillance footage of the city, to destroy the videos of Soap and Kyle racing on the highway in the middle of the day.. at 170 km/h.
You’re tinkering with a motorcycle engine when the bell above the door jingles, signaling the arrival of a customer.
The sound snaps you out of your focus, your head lifting to see who's walked in, curious.
“Good morning !” You smile walking toward the client, wiping your hands in a cloth.
The client, a man in his late 40s with a weatherworn face and gray hair, looks up as you approach, a gruff smile on his face.
"Mornin'," he grunts, eyes roaming the shop. "You work here?"
“Yes sir” you nod
“Im here to deliver a package, here you go” he puts in on the counter and leaves
You accept the package, placing it gently on the counter and watching as the man leaves the shop without another word.
There's something about this whole thing that has your curiosity piqued. The man's demeanor, the mysterious package.. it's all just a bit odd.
You pick up the package, turning it over in your hands. That's when you notice the name on the packaging: Yours.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you decide to open it.
You grab a pair of cisors, stabbing it into the box. You rip the tape and find.. what’s that ?
You take a closer look at it, and horror finds you when you find a positive pregnancy test with ‘remember ?’ written on it.
The sight of the positive pregnancy test hits you like a punch to the gut. The question scribbled on it 'remember?' has your stomach twisting with a mix of shock, confusion, and fear. Who the hell could've sent you this? Who would even know... Unless...
“Ivan…”
The name slips out like a curse, barely above a whisper.
Ivan.
A ghost from your past. A man you'd hoped was buried deep, dark memories, manipulation, that night you never wanted to relive.
Your hands tremble as you stare at the test.
This isn't real.
It can't be real.
But someone sent it to you. With that note…
And then it hits you : Jade, the package.. he’s back.
And he knows how to hurt you most of all: by threatening the peace you’ve just started building with the Reapers.
You close the shop, turning the sign on the door to say ‘we will be back soon !’ And slowly walk up to your apartment, locking yourself in with the package.
Once locked inside, you make a beeline for the couch, sinking down onto the cushions with a mixture of shock, fear, and anger.
The note stares up at you from the packet, mocking and taunting you.
Remember ?
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As the boys arrive back at the shop after their ride, they find it oddly quiet and.. closed.
"What the...?" Soap mutters, parking his motorcycle and eyeing the shop's closed sign curiously. "Is Speedy not here today?"
“Shes here everyday dude she lives here” Gaz says
Gaz's words has the rest of the team looking even more puzzled now. Their gazes flicker between the closed sign and the apartment above the shop, a mix of curiosity and concern in their eyes.
Soap lets out a low grumble, leaning against his motorcycle.
"Something's off," he mutters, his brow furrowed. "It's not like her to just up and close without a word."
“Let’s just ask her, maybe she didn’t do it on purpose” Kyle suggests
The boys step inside the dark shop, their footsteps echoing in the quiet space. The air is thick with tension, their eyes scanning the shadowy interior.
Soap is the first to break the silence, calling out, "Speedy ?"
His voice bounces off the walls, but there's no answer.
The silence that greets them fuels their growing concern.
Gaz steps forward, eyeing the back room. "Maybe she's just busy or something," he suggests, though the worry in his voice betrays his words.
Price, silent till now, watches the two other members of the gang before he finally speaks up. "Check the apartment then."
“I’ll go” Ghost orders, not leaving room for discussion.
Price nods, watching as Soap and Gaz move to check the shop, while Ghost heads upstairs to your apartment.
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Ghost's footsteps echo up the stairs, each step carrying him closer to the door of your apartment. His mind is a swirl of thoughts, wondering why you're not downstairs, why you've closed the shop unexpectedly.
He pauses in front of the door, his palm against the wood for a moment, before rapping his knuckles against it loudly.
"Speed?" he calls out. "It's me. Open up."
The lack of a response only confirms what he already knows: something is wrong.
He tries the doorknob. Locked.
"Speed, open the damn door," he says, this time his voice slightly more insistent.
His patience is starting to wear thin, the feeling in his gut growing more uneasy by the second.
The knob turns under his hand.. unlocked.
Ghost pushes the door open slowly, stepping into your dim apartment. The air feels heavy, still. His eyes scan the room, bike parts on the table, clothes scattered… and then he sees it.
The package.
On the coffee table.
And beside it—you. Curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around yourself like you’re holding your pieces together.
His voice is low, rough with concern as he takes a step closer:
"Speed."
You don’t hear him coming in, or call out your name, just like you didn’t feel yourself start to cry or feel the panic slowly creep into your lungs.
The sight of you like this, tears on your face and eyes distant, has the tension in his chest tightening like a coil. He crosses the room in quick strides, crouching down in front of the couch. His hand reaches out, placing it onto your shoulder.
"Look at me," he rumbles, voice gruff and intense. "Speed. Look at me damnit."
The feel of his hand snap you out of your trance, you look up at him, heart hammering in your chest. The moment your eyes meet his, he feels a mix of relief and worry wash over him. Seeing you in this state breaks something in him. He keeps his grip on your shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing slow circles.
"You're scaring the hell out of me," he says, voice rough and quiet. "What's going on, love?"
You swallow, suddenly remembering why you’ve started feeling like this in the first place.
“the box..” you say, incredibly quiet.
His gaze drifts to the package on the coffee table, then back to you. "What's in the box, sweetheart?" he asks.
You close your eyes, panic burning your lungs slowly, not letting you answer.
He sees the pain in your face, the way your body tenses like you're trying to shut it all out. He doesn't push. Not yet.
Instead, he stands slowly, never breaking contact, and sits beside you on the couch. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side.
"Okay," he murmurs, voice low and rough with restraint. "You don't have to say it yet."
But then his eyes flick back to the box.
And something in him, dark, protective, dangerous, starts to wake up.
The feeling in his chest becomes an inferno as he looks at the box again. The need to protect you, to shield you from whatever hell is inside it, is damn near unbearable.
He tries again, voice rough.
"Sweetheart, can I look in that damn box?"
He feels a nod against his chest, the permission he needed. Without another word, he gently disengages his arm from your shoulders, reaching for the box. His heart is pounding in his chest, his every muscle coiled like a spring. He opens the box slowly, his eyes scanning the contents inside. The moment he sees the positive test staring back at him, a mix of shock and something darker flares in his eyes. Anger. Fear.
"What in the hell.." he mutters, his voice a quiet rumble.
“Hey boss you found.. her “ Soap’s question turns into an affirmation “What’s going on ?”
Soap's voice cuts through the haze of his thoughts like a knife. Ghost looks up, meeting Soap's gaze with eyes like steel. The box and the test are clenched in his hand, as if he's barely holding onto his control.
"Come here," he says gruffly, his voice a low command.
“It’s fucking Sokolov”
Soap's face hardens, jaw clenching as he looks at the note. The name, 'Sokolov', hits like a punch to the gut.
“Fuck” he rubs his forehead, looking at you with worry.
The sound of one of your sniffle makes a muscle in Ghost's jaw twitch. The need to reach out, to comfort you, is almost overwhelming. But he stays rooted in place, the box and the test between them like a silent accusation.
"This bastard's crossed a bloody line."
“Find him” Ghost orders
Soap nods, his jaw clenched with anger. "Consider it done," he mutters, his voice low and dangerous.
The moment he leaves, the silence in the apartment is deafening.
Ghost's gaze flicks to you, seeing the tear streaks on your cheeks, the tremble in your shoulders. His chest tightens with an ache that's more than just anger. He shifts on the couch, turning slightly to face you, his voice gruff.
"Look at me, sweetheart."
The sight of you, so damn vulnerable and terrified, almost breaks something in him. He reaches out, one hand gently tilting your chin up as he meets your gaze. His eyes are a storm of emotions, anger, concern, protectiveness…
"Listen to me," he rumbles, voice rough and soft at the same time. "You're not going through this alone. Do you hear me?"
You nod, the silent agreement in your eyes, making him exhale a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
His thumb gently brushes away a tear from your cheek. "You're fucking strong, you know that?" he says, his voice taking on a rougher edge. "The strongest person I know. But you don't have to carry this weight alone. You have me. Always."
“It h-hurts Simon”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, you’ve never called him by his first name, hell he didn’t even know you knew it in the first place. The raw, aching pain in your voice, filled with the weight of years of love pain… it rips something open in him.
His hand, now holding your cheek, stops for a moment, an unconscious reaction to your words.
"I know," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with the ache of what he can't change. "I know, sweetheart."
The tears spilling from your eyes break the dam of his restraint.His arm wraps around you, pulling you closer, holding you against his chest. He doesn't try to stop your tears, just lets you cry silently against him.His hand rubs circles on your back, a gesture of silent comfort.
"Let it out," he murmurs against your hair. "I've got you. I've got you, sweetheart."
“It hurts so much”
The raw pain in your voice tears through him, deeper than any blade ever could. He holds you tighter, his own breath shaky against your hair. This isn't just about fear or anger anymore, this is grief. Your grief. And he feels every second of it like it's his own.
"I know," he chokes out, voice barely above a whisper. "God... I know it does."
His thumb strokes your cheek, wiping at the tears as they fall.
"You're not alone in this, Speed," he says hoarsely. "I'm here. I'm right damn here."
“Don’t go please”
His breath catches at the plea—so soft, so broken.
He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, one hand cradling your face like it’s something sacred. "Look at me," he rumbles, voice rough with emotion. "I’m not going anywhere. Not ever. You hear me? Nowhere."
He presses his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours. "You're stuck with me, sweetheart."
You nod, it's a small thing, but it feels like a lifeline.
He closes his eyes against the rush of emotions flooding through him, just focusing on the feel of you against him. The way your body fits against his is like a puzzle piece he didn't know he was missing.
"We're in this together," he murmurs, voice laced with a promise. "Every step. Every tear. Every damn breath. You and me."
“I’m scared”
The admission,so soft, so raw, tugs at that protective, primal side of him.
He pulls back, his eyes locking onto yours. "I know," he says, voice steady even as his heart is threatening to crack in half. "I know you're scared, sweetheart. Heck I'm scared too."
His thumb traces your jawline, a silent reassurance."But you're not alone. I'll tear down every bloody thing that's scaring you, just to make you feel safe."
He lets you cry, holding you close, his hand rubbing firm, soothing circles on your back.
The sound of your sobs against his chest, the way you cling to him like a lifeline...
"Shhh," he whispers as he holds you tighter. "I'm here. I've got you, love." He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his voice a rough, low rumble.
"You're safe here. I swear to god, you're safe with me."
As you doze off against him, he doesn't let go.
He sits there, holding you against him, listening to your breathing even out. In that moment, he feels a million emotions all at once.
Pain for the loss you've endured, anger for what that bastard Sokolov did to you, protective instinct... and a tender, aching tenderness that he can't name.
He knows one thing, though, for damn sure. He's not letting you go. Not ever.
"Sweetheart," he whispers, voice barely audible. "You're safe... I'm right here."
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2.4k words, i am not romantizing miscarriages ! Please be safe with the pieces of media you choose to consume based on your own comfort and limits. Lots of love <333
masterlist // series masterlist // part 3 // part 5
pairing : biker!Simon Ghost Riley x biker!reader
content details : bikergang!TF141, fem!reader, original characters, english is not my first langage, i only know so much about bikes and gangs lol
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“A meet ?” You repeat, your mood suddenly boosted.
“Yeah a bike meet, it’s an hour ride from here”
“So in reality it’s a 25 minutes ride, for people that don’t drive like grandpas”
“Don’t mistake caution with age” Price rolls his eyes chuckling.
“But yes the Butchers are hosting a bike meet tonight and we are invited”
“Exciting !” you smile, already thinking about how you’re gonna dress
“Not sure Ghost will let you attend though” Kyle adds, beer in hand
“What ? Why ?”
“A bike meet’s a big deal, and no offense but you’re still quite new to the gang, he might decide you’re not ready yet”
You pout, well this sucks. “He won’t say no.. right ?” You look at Price.
“You’ll have to ask him kid” Price ruffles your hair
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You’re watching Ghost work at his desk, typing away at his computer, probably answering emails you get when you own a gang?? But he’s focused, quiet, the computer looks abnormally small compared to his hands or him in general. You’re watching him through the doorway of his office, which he normally always closes shut, always.
“Watcha looking at ?”
Leyla’s voice snap you out of your daze, “I need to speak with Ghost but he looks quite focused right now”
She chuckles, “so ? It’s not like he’s a big company CEO or anything, you can always disturb him” she gets closer to you, whispering : “Always disturb a man’s peace.”
You laugh in answer which gets Ghost to lift his head from his computer
“What ?” he grunts
You come in, Leyla to your left, “Ghost.. you did hear about tonight’s meet right ?”
He raises a brow, crossing his arms, leaning farther into his chair
“You’re not against the idea of me being there right ?” you smile, hands behind your back
“You’re not coming.”
Shit.
“Yeah i am”
He leans toward you, eyes focused on yours. “No. You’re barely out of your injury, and we haven't heard back from the Green Devils since we took care of Jade, I'm not risking your safety, end of story.”
You sigh, this is disappointing.
Leyla wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving a ‘are you serious right now?’ look to Ghost
“Ghost come on, Speedy’s been a Reaper for 6 months, she’s talented and loyal, won’t cause trouble. We need to show that we’re capable of evolving, we need to show off our new faces.”
Ghost sighs, pitching his nose, “And if she falls ? Or get attacked ? What do we do then ?”
Leyla exhales, rolling her eyes, “Oh please. She’ll be fine and you know it.” She looks at you “And she’s a big girl, she can take care of herself just fine.”
“And my leg’s been fine for a week, I can ride perfectly”
Ghost rests his hands on the desk, cursing something about you being reckless before nodding, “fine, you’re coming. But you’re sticking to me alright ? No funny business.”
“Trust me, i’ll be an angel” you give him a thumbs up.
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Your heart slams against your chest as you get off of your bike, finding what looks like 300 hundred people gathered for this bike meet. You take off your helmet, placing it on your bike. You adjust your Reapers vest on your shoulders, casually stretching your arms.
“Stay close, yeah ?” Ghost reminds you, a cigarette in his mouth
You nod in answer, following him as he easily guides you through the crowd. He stops next to a group of people, dressed in black and red : The Butchers. They’re quite close to the Reapers, especially because Konig, the leader, is friends with Ghost. You smile as you watch them shake their hands, smiling. Konig gives Simon a firm handshake and smirks behind his own mask, the two exchanging a look that speaks of a deep respect and trust.
Konig's gaze finally lands on you. He's sizing you up, trying to gauge who you are and your significance. “And who is this ?” he aks
You introduce yourself, shaking his hand “Pleasure”
Konig takes your hand and shakes it firmly, his grip strong and calloused from years of handling motorcycles. "I've heard about you. You're one of the newest in The Reapers, right?"
“Exact” you nod, chuckling
Konig chuckles as well, a knowing glint in his eye.
"Can definitely tell," He remarks, his gaze going up and down your figure before returning to your face. "You fit right in. Got that look to you. Rough around the edges."
“What’s that supposed to mean huh ?” You smirk
"Ah, I like you. I meant exactly what I said, means you belong here," he says with a rough laugh, clapping your shoulder hard enough to make you stumble half a step.
Simon watches the exchange silently, arms crossed, head tilted.
A warning growl rumbles in Simon's throat as his boot nudges Konig's ankle pointedly. "Hands off."
“Right right” Konig takes a step back, “he doesn’t enjoy his members being touched”
“No he doesn’t” Ghost confirms
“Well then, enjoy your evening”
“You too” you wave as he walks away
Konig gives a final nod before walking away, joining up with his crew that were chatting nearby, watching the interaction.
Simon lets out a low breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly now that Konig was gone from their immediate space. He looks over at you, a hint of a smirk on his face.
"Sorry 'bout that," he apologizes. "Konig can get a little handsy. 'Specially around new recruits."
“It’s fine, he wasn’t rude about it”
Simon grunts, clearly not pleased.
"C'mon," he says gruffly, jerking his chin toward the bar area of the meet where drinks are being served. "I'll buy you one if you promise not to let any more bastards get close to you tonight."
Simon smirks as you agree, guiding you over to the bar area, ordering two beers from the barkeep before handing yours to you. He leans against the counter, taking a long swig of his drink before his eyes find yours again.
"So," he starts, "How've the Reapers been treatin' ya so far? Adjusting alright?"
He takes another sip of his beer, waiting for your response.
Simon snorts in mild amusement, a small smile barely visible behind his mask.
“Can't believe it's been that long already," he muses, raising his bottle to his lips again.
His gaze softens a bit as you mention it feeling like home. "Good," he grunts. "That's... good."
There's a subtle hint of understanding in his eyes. He knows what it means to find belonging in a place like this.
“Well well.. look who we have here”
A strangers voice makes you both around, only to be met with ‘The Joker’ or at least that’s what they call him : the Green Devils’ gang leader.
“Heard your gang enjoyed bothering one of my girls ?” He smirks, downing a shot.
“Yeah, after the girl in question bothered my girl.” Ghost grunts, putting down his beer.
“Well.. did she deserve it ?”
Ghost exhales, an almost chuckle escaping him, the tension suddenly thicker.
“The fuck did you just say ?”
“Hey man no need to get all worked up” he puts his hands up in surrender “I’m just saying.. Jade didn’t go after her for no reason.”
Ghost stands up, towering over the man’s small posture. “Next time ? We’ll kill her, and your entire gang if you even so much just look at her. Got it ?”
The man rolls his eyes, though the faint lines of sweats appearing on his forehead betray his faux confidence. “Why don’t we settle this on the track yeah ? Prove she’s respectable and I’ll make sure the girls leave her alone.”
Ghost stops, turning his head slightly to make eye contact with you, searching for any sign of disapproval on your face. He obviously finds none, how could you refuse a street race ?
“Okay” he grunts, “but I pick who she races”
“Sounds fair to me” the man nods.
Simon's eyes narrow slightly, his decision made. He turns back to The Joker. "Alright, deal."
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As you mount your bike, securing your helmet in place, the engine rumbles to life beneath you. The sound resonates through the air, a low and powerful hum that signals your readiness. You take a deep breath, your focus on the road ahead.
Simon stands nearby, his eyes locked on you, but he keeps his distance, watching with a mixture of anticipation and concern. From the corner of your eye, you can see ‘The Joker’ watching the scene unfold. As you turn your gaze to the person you'll be racing against, you find a slender figure gearing up on a sleek bike. She wears a tight-fitting black leather jumpsuit adorned with green accents, signifying her affiliation to The Green Devils.
Her sharp green eyes lock with yours, a challenging smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
The red light that’s standing 15 meters away from you turns orange, before it turns green and somebody fires a pistol in the air : the race starts.
With the sound of the pistol shot ringing in your ears, adrenaline surges through your veins. Your grip tightens on the bike, and your heart races. The world around you blurs as you and the Green Devils girl race side by side. The only things that matter are the road and the thrill of the competition.
“Wow ! Didn’t know people were racing tonight !” Soap exclaims, appearing from somewhere, cheeks flushed, his arm around Leyla’s waist
Ghost barely raises an eyebrow to look at them, too focused on you.
“Who’s racing ?” Leyla asks, giggling as Soap places a kiss on her neck
“Speedy”
Soap straightens up, frowning “What ? Why ?”
“Who is she racing ?” Leyla adds
Kyle, who’s been standing next to Ghost this whole time answers, “Got dared by The Joker, said they’ll leave her alone if she could show she was worth it.”
“And you agreed ?” Leyla turns to Ghost
“I didn’t get a say”
“Really ??” Soap raises a brow
“I never get a say when it comes to her, she does whatever her heart tells her”
“Fair enough”
With every twist and turn, you leave the Green Devils girl in your dust.
Your skills and reflexes pay off, as you navigate the streets with practiced ease. The gap between you widens with each second that passes, and your lead becomes increasingly significant.
“That’s it” Ghost mutters to himself, incredibly focused, “just a few more meters, don’t lose your focus”
With a surge of victory, you speed past the finish line, the roar of your engine fading into a triumphant purr. You bring your bike to a halt, allowing a rush of relief and adrenaline to wash over you.
From the sidelines, Ghost looks on, watching your flawless finish. His expression remains neutral, but in his eyes, there's a glimmer of satisfaction and respect.
As you dismount your bike, a crowd of spectators gathers around you, congratulating and praising your impressive victory. Cheers and whistles fill the air, accompanied by a chorus of compliments and admiration. Price puts you up on his shoulder, “That’s why we call her Speed everybody !!”
The crowd cheers louder,
This ?
This is real now.
You’re not just a newbie anymore. You’re a member, and you deserve every ounce of respect.
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As the night wears on, the crew of the Reapers find themselves back at their own bar, the familiar surroundings providing a sense of comfort. Laughter fills the air, fueled by a few drinks and shared stories.
“And I couldn't believe how freaking fast you were going compared to her !”
“Mate not even kidding I thought I had jumped the start-” you chuckle “I thought she was doing it on purpose”
Gaz grins and shakes his head in disbelief. "Nah mate she wasn’t even close to jumping anything."
Price lets out a gruff chuckle from behind his cigar smoke while Leyla leans over the counter toward you with an impressed smirk of her own: "That's my new favorite rider"
“Hey what about me” Soap pouts
“You’re my all time favorite baby, it’s not the same”
Soap smiles, blowing his girl a kiss.
“Alright, i’m washed out time for bed” Soap gets up, stretching and yawning widely
Gaz finishes off his beer and stands up as well. "I'm with you on that one, mate. I'm beat."
Price takes a puff from his cigar and nods in agreement, his eyes heavy with tiredness. "Yeah, we could all use some shut-eye."
Leyla looks around at the men and sighs, her arms crossed. "Well, if the lot of you are tired, I reckon I'll call it a night too."
“Okay good night guys” You smile, waving, “I’ll clean up don’t worry”
“Night” Ghost nods, watching the others make their way to their apartments
Everyone else disperses, heading towards their rooms to retire for the night, leaving you and Ghost alone in the now quieter bar area.
The air feels different, the atmosphere of the room shifting as the others leave. Ghost's intense gaze finally turns towards you fully for the first time since the race.
“You ever take it off ?” you ask, quiet, curious.
“The balaclava ?” he sighs, of course you’d ask that question. “Rarely”
“Why ?.. Can I ask why ?”
Ghost pauses for a moment, seeming to consider your question. It's unusual for him to entertain these kinds of conversations, especially about himself. But he relents and responds with a gruff tone.
"Because… it serves a purpose." He shrugs, his gaze drifting away from you for a moment before returning. "Hides my face. Keeps me anonymous. Keeps people from getting too attached."
“Hm” you nod, crossing your arms, “scared we’ll find you too handsome ?”
Simon chokes on his drink, coughing violently as he whirls to stare at you
"Fuckin' hell," he huffs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice is rougher than usual when he finally manages to speak again: "That's a new one."
There’s a beat of silence where Ghost just… processes that sentence.
Then? A sharp scoff escapes the mask, almost.. an actual laugh.
You get up, grabbing your helmet from the bar table. “Thank you for tonight boss”
Simon gives a small grunt,half acknowledgment, half dismissal,but as you move to leave, his voice stops you. "Oi." His tone is gruff but not unkind. "Get some sleep." A pause. Then, quieter: "Proud of ya' tonight."
“Thanks” you smile, disappearing into the hallway.
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2.4k words, could've written more, not sure if i really love this part, but it's fineeeee love you babies
