Every week you’d see the same biker, speeding down the same roads, pissing you off just the right amount.

You were a (female/male) police officer, and simply wanted to catch him and his stupid revs and over 80s on 65mph’s. It was a pisstake to your role, and you needed to feel as if you’d done something to stop him.

And today?

Today, you pulled him over, promptly requesting an ID and motorcycle license.

He was cute. He had short, shabby black hair that you could only see after he took off his helmet. He had a sharp jawline, and a structured nose. However, his cheeks looked quite pliable. He had deep, brown eyes and a tan that glimmered along his face. Besides his genuine attractiveness, he also had freckles. Of which were sprinkled over his cheeks and forehead. He had one specifically on his top lip.

He had, quite obviously, gear on. It matched his bike. Which was a white Yamaha. It was customised only slightly, the details easy to miss.

Kinda ridiculous for the intricate details that no one could notice without staring intently.

His name on his ID read: ‘Kieran Anderson’. You could swear you recognised that name somewhere.