a/n: that second photo makes me so feral oh my days it just SCREAMS SIMON the tats the bicep the BALACLAVAUAHDF. also thank you all on 1k+ notes on my husband!simon riley post. I ADORE U GUYS and i'm so glad that you guys like my writing, it means a lot 🥲♥︎.
biker!simon riley who rides a bike as powerful as him: a gorgeous kawasaki ninja h2. he modded it so now it’s fully blacked out. he didn't bother upgrading bikes over time like most riders so they can get the hang of simply riding. he bought the h2 as his first one ever and kept it since (which is insane bc this man bought a liter bike for his first bike ever but he handles the bike flawlessly so it's okay).
biker!simon riley who definitely has a keychain for the bike that says something funny/stupid just for the giggles. something like “kawasexy” or “forget the bike, ride the biker.” he has even has one that has skulls on it in honor of his callsign.
biker!simon riley who before you rode with him, helps you put on your helmet. he tugs you closer by the straps, making your legs stumble closer to his body. he makes sure both his and your visors are up just so he can steal some eye contact with you, passing you a cheeky wink in the mix.
biker!simon riley who doesn't speed or do any tricks on the bike when you're riding with him. he knows you're trusting him with your life every time you're behind him on the bike, and that's an honor he can never sabotage with careless riding. although you constantly beg him for a wheelie, he never does it, saying “you're precious. i can't possibly risk it, doll.”
biker!simon riley who loves to reach behind and rub your thigh as he rides. on red lights he makes sure to look back and check up on you, lifting up his visor and looking into your eyes. his voice rumbles even with his helmet on, patting your thigh as he asks, "you okay back here, sweetheart?"
biker!simon riley who at the end of your riding session with him, takes off your helmet for you. as he smooths out your hair to fix the helmet hair, he tucks a strand behind you ear and whispers in it, "you ride well."
(like let me ride you next plea-- OMG WHO SAID THAT)
blurb: biker!simon riley // no cws // wc: 1340
inspired by my headcanons
a/n: omg yess as you wish!! thank you guys for the love you guys have given so far. i only had this blog for a little over a week and yall are spoiling me LIKE OMG i love u guys. i've decided to spoil yall back by actually writing a blurb instead of some hcs, i hope you guys enjoy!
You wouldn't think that the Simon Riley would ask you out on another riding session. You begged him for wheelies nonstop the first time you rode with him, potentially to the point that he was probably annoyed. So why on earth is he texting you: 'Hey, love. When are you free? Do you wanna go for another ride?'
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard on your phone. Should you lie? Tell him you’re busy the whole week so you don't have to feel his torso under your hands again? But after a few minutes you reason with yourself. Another ride with him can’t hurt and neither does being truthful.
You: Hey Simon. I’m free. How does tomorrow sound?
Simon 👻: Great. Tomorrow at 6 then. See you later lovie.
You honestly melt each time he calls you these endearments. You convince yourself it’s how British people speak. But when Simon says it, it sounds different to you. Almost as if he actually means it.
Tomorrow couldn’t have come quicker. Simon didn’t even have to bother calling or texting you to say he's outside. One rev from his bike had you looking out the window and your pulse pounding in your ears. You walk downstairs and outside your house, strolling over to Simon’s bike. He’s dressed in full gear this time in contrast to his short-sleeved t-shirt and jeans combo the first time you rode with him. The leather of his jacket hugs his form perfectly. His trousers are baggy but enough to shape around his huge thighs. He clears his throat and lifts a leg to get off the bike. He tilts his head down to compensate for how tall he is and shakes his head disapprovingly.
“No.” His voice rumbled.
Your eyes squint in confusion. Instead of greeting you, he’s only going to spit out one word? “What do you mean ‘no’?” He drinks in your outfit, staring at your shoes and moving up until he glares at your face.
“This outfit. It won’t pass this time.” He takes his backpack off his shoulders and unzips it. He takes out a hoodie, trousers, and gloves. He settles the things on the hood of your car. “You wore only a helmet last time. You need more gear. This is a bloody missile,” he points to his bike, “and you need proper protection.”
No way.
You giggle at his adamance, “But Si—“
“No.” He interrupts you. “Don’t ‘But Simon’ me. You’re either wearing this gear or you can take your pretty little self back inside your house. I’m not risking it.” As much as he wants to tell you how good you already look, he’d much rather have you safe.
You hate to admit it, but the way he’s commanding you makes you weak in the knees. You roll your eyes, “Fine. But I—”
He huffs in annoyance at your stubbornness. "Bloody hell, doll." He drags a hand down his face and places his hands on his hips. "You're either wearing what I bought you or I'll have no problem carrying you back inside." You two stare each other down, but your resolve crumbles and you do as he says. You put on the hoodie and trousers over your outfit and slip on the gloves.
Now he hates to admit it, but Simon would much rather watch you strip down for him than dress up for him.
He puts on the helmet for you, like last time pulling you by the straps so your body leans closer to his. You can’t see it because of his balaclava, but you know for sure with the way his eyes squint slightly that he’s smirking at his own cheekiness. Once you both are all set, he hooks a leg over the bike while offering you a hand to get on. Simon shivered a little at your gentle touch. It’s so different from his. He has rough, calloused fingers that have seen every inch of war. You, on the other hand, have hands so gentle he imagines how they’d feel along his body. How you, a woman so gentle, could hopefully be with a man as rough as him someday.
He clicks his tongue when you place both hands on his shoulders. “Not there.” He takes your hands down to wrap around his torso, making your chest press against his back. “I don’t need you falling off. You're too precious.” He said that last time, you think. He chuckles. “Okay, now I need to make sure you remember from your last ride. If you ever want me to pull over when we’re riding, what do you do?”
You tap his thigh, “Tap two times.”
He nods approvingly. “Good girl.” He flicks down his visor and you follow suit. With a startup and rev, he drives you both off. The cold evening air with the heat of hugging your body against Simon is enough to make you shiver, making you cringe at the subtle intimacy of the situation.
Simon is not immune either.
The last time he rode with you he spent the whole night thinking about you once he got home. It got so bad to the point you cross his mind in the shower now. Just one ride with you and here he is: yearning for you. Your touch. Your voice in his ear. Your body pressed against his. He adores riding with you though no matter how smitten you make him, which is something he could never tell you. Hell, he is so smitten he had paperwork to drop off at base today, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity of a ride with you.
He loves the way you follow his orders, like knowing to tap his thigh when you feel a little uneasy, or tapping his helmet when you see a police car. He loves when you tilt your body with his so he can turn the bike more easily, when you hold onto him a little tighter every time he goes up a gear, and the way you trust his riding so much to the point that you felt safe enough to go for a second time.
After sunset, the ride ends with Simon pulling into your driveway to drop you back home. Simon can’t figure out if this is an unfortunate or fortunate thing. He wants to spend time with you since he craves that quality time. He thinks about you in ways a friend shouldn’t. But he wants distance, because not even Simon Riley knows when Simon Riley will blurt out what he feels for you.
You grab Simon’s shoulders to get off. He places the bike on its stand and helps you out of your helmet. Even with your hair disheveled, he still thinks you’re gorgeous. He takes his hands and smooths out the messy bits. If anything, your hair helps Simon wonder what it would be like if you were under him on his bed. So beautiful, he thinks.
“You’re quite the smooth operator, Simon.” You mention his skill of riding as he fixes one last strand. His eyes squint in the balaclava before he pulls it off his head.
He tilts his head at you and you’re grateful you can finally see the pink of his full lips as he speaks, “You think so?”
You nod in conviction, “Of course I do." He chuckles and takes off his leather jacket to reveal a short-sleeved black t-shirt, now showing off his tattoo sleeve.
What a tease.
“You handle the bike well too, sweetheart.” He crosses his arms, causing a gorgeous flex on both biceps. You couldn’t help but to stare at his arms, then down to the outlines of his pecs and lastly to his torso.
You want him so bad.
“You think so?” You copy his own curious tone from before at a potential attempt of flirting.
He nods and steps closer to you, “Know so, doll.” You were Simon's first backpack ever on the bike. He knows without a doubt you will be his favorite (and only) backpack from now on.
~
that was my first blurb ever on this blog, so i truly hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing it! i honestly don't think it was that hot of a blurb but as long as you who are reading like it, that's all that matters HAHA.
