Bianca

20 she/her

[biancawritings]

I DON'T NEED YOUR CLOSURE — ANGST

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY x FEM!READER

The letter sat on the table, its edges curled from time and weight. You hadn’t expected it—Simon wasn’t the kind to leave words behind. He acted, stayed loyal in silence, but this time, he’d left something written. His handwriting was rough, deliberate, like him.

You didn’t open it right away. It wasn’t fear, just a reluctance to stir up memories you’d worked hard to bury. Simon was unforgettable, even when he was gone. His presence lingered, filling spaces he’d left empty. What could he have said in writing that he hadn’t already shown in his quiet strength or rare vulnerability?

There had been good times, though they felt far away now. His sharp humor, his rare but grounding laugh, the way he steadied chaos around him. You’d seen him at his most guarded and in the fleeting moments he let his walls down. Like when he patched up your arm without a word, just steady hands and a muttered warning to hold still. Or the night he sat with you in silence after a loss, his presence saying what words couldn’t.

When you finally read the letter, the room was dark, lit only by a streetlamp’s faint glow. It was short, blunt, and honest—pure Simon. He wrote about choices that had shaped and broken him, and maybe you too. He didn’t ask for forgiveness; that wasn’t his way. But in the rawness of his words, there was a trace of something deeper, an effort to leave you with a piece of himself.

The memories came rushing back—good, quiet, haunting. His handwriting, messy and uneven, felt like a ghost, familiar but distant. Simon wasn’t coming back; that much was clear. Maybe the letter was for you, or maybe it was his way of unburdening himself. Either way, it left you carrying the weight.

You folded the letter and set it aside. The grief lingered, but so did the gratitude—for the lessons he left behind. Simon Riley was a storm—unforgiving, relentless, but storms don’t apologize for the wreckage they leave. When they’re gone, they leave quiet. And in that quiet, you’d found your way forward.

Life moves on, with or without him. And so would you.

[biancawritings]

i need to stop trying to write suggestice contet, it literally come out like fcking dogshit every time 😪

[biancawritings]

"You’re doing it again," you said, not bothering to look up from the gear you were checking. You didn’t need to—his stare was heavy enough to feel, pressing down like a weight.

"Doing what?" Simon’s voice was low, gravelly, casual in a way that made you wonder if he was toying with you.

"That thing," you muttered, finally glancing up to catch his expression—or lack of it. His skull mask hid everything, but the slight tilt of his head was enough to tell you he was amused.

"Can’t help it," he said, stepping closer, his tone unshaken. "You walked in here like you’ve got something in mind."

You snorted, shoving a magazine into your vest pocket with a little too much force. "Yeah?."

"Yeah" He raised an eyebrow, a trace of humor creeping into his voice as he crossed his arms. "You look good putting that pretty little mind to work."

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms to match his stance. "You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking like that. Pretty sure you’re the definition of trouble around here."

He took a step closer, his broad frame closing in on the already cramped space. "Might be," he murmured, his voice dropping enough to send a shiver through you. "But you’re the one holding my attention."

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself not to react. The mask didn’t hide the way his eyes crinkled, catching you off guard.

"Like that," he said, his voice dropping even lower now, barely more than a whisper. "Pretending you’re all innocent"

You straightened up, narrowing your eyes. "I’m not?"

"Maybe," he said, stepping close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his voice a low rumble. "Or maybe you’re just waiting for me to give you a reason not to be."

For a moment, you met his gaze, your pulse quickening against your will. But you weren’t about to let him win. With a tilt of your chin, you let your voice turn sharp and cool. "Quit it."

A slow, wicked grin tugged at the edge of his mask—not wide, just enough to make his eyes sparkle. "Acting all tough for me?"

You turned away before he could see the smile that tugged at your lips, keeping your tone light as you tossed back, "Does that bother you?"

Behind you, his soft chuckle lingered—a deep, low sound that stayed with you long after you’d walked away.

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

Thinking about John Price’s wife still being shy about asking for sex even though John has literally never once turned her down ever. Luckily she’s very bad at hiding what she wants, so he’s always able to tell when she’s wanting him. He may be a little mean about it, may tease her and insist he’ll only touch her when she looks him in the eye and tells him what she wants out loud, but in the end, he could never leave his missus wanting

[sunni-stuff]

Simon Riley.

Whether he's your lieutenant, personal trainer, or boyfriend, one thing remains the same.

He's throwing his weight around on you.

It's always the same excuse, “Gotta learn some proper self defense, love, it's for your own good.”

As your lieutenant, he jeers at you with a low, menacing voice in your ear. He wants to know how much more you can handle before you give in? He enjoys dominating and seeing the pleasure in your eyes as they roll back into your head.

As your personal trainer, he commends you for holding your own against the weight pressed against you. While humping teasingly against your backside, he praises your determination and strength, but stops once you've reached your limit. He pats your thigh in approval, ignoring the dampness on the yoga mat from your arousal.

But as your boyfriend, there is no need to put on a display of strength or playful teasing. Instead, he firmly thrusts against your soft behind with the determination of a mad man, his rough hands gripping onto your waist as he fucks you with purpose. His chest presses against your back, pushing you deeper into the mattress and trapping you between his body and the sheets until he ensures that you both reach the impending white end.

[dmitriene]

all simon riley wants for christmas is you, tied up in a pretty bow, waiting for him all dolled up, your clothes are barely there, some skimpy thing that can be peeled, ripped away like a gift wrapping layer, to make it all easier, since you were waiting for this moment from the very start of the week, knowing that he should come home especially for holidays, and sure, there's a place for a present.

you asked him to stop at the grocery store to have time to prepare, and he agreed, the list was short and strained, a couple of drinks and snacks that you forgot for a perfect christmas dinner, everything so that you had time to hide next to the lush tree and turn off the light before simon arrived back, keys jiggling right outside the door, reverberating through the narrow hallway, as you still your breath.

simon was excited before, to finally return home, to celebrate the new year in a soothing, cozy atmosphere, with someone close, without loneliness, without disgust for this holiday, he did not even think about whether you prepared him a gift, because he did not give any hints, but opening the front door, and stretching out his hand with a bag of groceries towards the light switch, he lights up the living room, and you're right there.

with red, silky ribbon wrapped tight all around your curved body, digging in the supple skin, where it's ties in a neat bow right in front of you, your hands clasped behind, wrists looking at each other, hold together, and you can't really move, except fidgeting in place, a small, welcoming smile to your lips, as you watch the way simon's hands twitch, curling with whitening fingers, eyes fluttering from wide open to lidded heavily, and suddenly, the bags, and the dinner, are forgotten.

it's time to indulge in the gift you prepared to him, and simon wouldn't be able to stay away and wait for later, perhaps, he'd splay you out on the unfinished dining table for now, still not set for the dinner, except for the tablecloth, that will gladly soak all the slick that gushes out of your cunt, while he breaches a finger inside your soppy hole, walls pulsing, rippling at the intrusion, and you hiccup for more instantly, legs twitching, spread open by the ribbon.

your christmas would be all the night long, with your body sinking into the sagging mattress, cold, smooth skin work as a reprieve to your searing, scalding skin, warmed up by the spread warmth, burning up from between your limp thighs, as simon's hips snap forward, a steady roll, his cock long and thick enough to plunge against your spongy spot repeatedly, making you writhe and keen his name, a sweet, hiccuped melody.

simon holds you close, snuggled tight against his solid chest as his body juts forward with each thrust, broad hands sinking into the plushness of your body, tugging, holding tight and possessive, and you can only hide your blissed face in the juncture of his neck and stretched out shoulder, sobbing, breathing in the rough, rich smell of him, nails scrabbling across his back, wrists untied to let you touch him, while he enjoys his precious christmas gift, panting gritted praises.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[amaranthinespirit]

size difference with Ghost 😈

size difference with simon riley

simon riley is massive, not just in terms of height, but muscle and dick too. this man is a wall of muscle, impenetrable and daunting the way he looms over a crowd with his plain, black balaclava. yet you find yourself with your arm looped around this brute of a man, his smitten gaze peering down at you, his arm twice the size of yours, and his hand too.

you hadn't thought about how difficult it'd be to take him until your nervous eyes gazed on his thick, engorged cock oozing with gooey arousal. fuck, you couldn't even think. you swallowed thickly, barely managing a whisper, "'s not gonna fit, si."

he chuckled at your whispered words, the way your eyes seem to stay stuck between his legs, large, veiny cock throbbing and aching to be inside you.

"mmm, it'll fit, baby, j's trus'me, hm?" he cocked his head to the side, a wicked smirk on his face, "such'a pre'ty lit'l cunt's made f'me, y'can take it, sweet girl."

he consoled you, but promised first to ease up your tight cunt on his thick fingers and sloppy tongue, eliciting pretty noises, and it wasn't until multiple orgasms later that he deemed you okay. your walls stretched around his digits, each new fingers added causing a whine to spill from your swollen lips and your walls to further constrict around him.

three orgasms in and your legs are jelly, trembling around his waist as pearly slick drools from your slit, puffy clit overstimulated and sensitive. sweat beads drip down your skin, creating a sheen across your even flesh.

you can barely register the low, gruff chuckle as he hauls you closer by your legs, underside of your knees resting now on his forearms, his large cock grazing through your slick folds.

a whimper strained from your throat, and all he did was shush you, "shh, lovie, you'll b'fine," he cooed, teasing his angry tip over your entrance, watching your hips buck up from the pillow under your hips, "nice and gentle, yeah?"

he waits for the nod of confirmation, the small hum that barely leaves your closed, swollen lips as you look up at him sweetly, your eyes hazed over and hair tousled.

"good girl," he praises, holding you firmly as he forces his fat cock past your folds, groaning at the way you seem to swallow him, walls constricting so tightly around him, he worries you might force him out, "fuckkk, s'tight, are ya, love? gettin' messy b'fore didn't 'elp, eh?"

he merely chuckles, watching the way your face contorts, jaw dropping as throaty noises slip past, your body writhing under him as you struggle to handle his meaty cock penetrating you, practically tearing you in two.

"not even halfway, swee'eart, c'mon, y'can take more, surely?" he teases, his eyes glancing down to where your bodies meet, entranced in the way you suck him in, lewd, flithy squelches as your pussy swallows him further.

you can only whine, tears brimming your eyes as you stare up at him with pleading eyes, "s'full," you can only manage.

"already? tha's n'good, baby..." he tsk's, shaking his head as he rocks his hips, thick, engorged cock slowly punching against your velvety, gooey walls, watching the way your tummy bulges with every small rut of wide hips, "can handle more, yeah? tha's m'girl."

he doesn't wait for an answer, using his leverage of your knees over his forearms to pull you down on his meaty cock, grunting lowly as he bottoms out. his full balls lightly slap against your plush rear, your skin already reddening as he fucks you down into the mattress, hips plowing into your warmth.

you can no longer register his words, his voice becoming another blur in your cock-drunk haze, your eyes rolled back as he continues to utter praises as his hips continue their relentless abuse to your sweet cunt, drooling around him and swallowing him whole.

see, he told you you can handle it, yeah? listen to him, he knows best.

[angelovi]

Simon that goes feral after seeing you wear his dog tags.

"Hm what's that you're wearing love? Those my dog tags?"

You give him a supple nod in return, a light blush dusting your cheeks.

"Where'd you find that hm?" He approaches you slowly with a smirk plastered on his face.

"I found it on your desk.. didn't think you'd mind.." You try your best to sound confident, yet you fail miserably.

He holds your chin between his two fingers, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. "I ever tell you how gorgeous you look?"

"Everyday." You gaze up at him, your innocence showing.

"Good," he whispers softly, his breath warm against your skin, before closing the distance between you and drawing you into a kiss.

Lifting you gently by your thighs, he carries you with ease to the warmth of your shared bedroom. As he crosses the threshold, the soft glow of the lighting wraps around you both. He sets you down on the plush fabric of the bed, the comforting texture embracing you as you sink into it.

In a swift motion, he pulls off his pants, the fabric pooling on the floor, and then settles onto the bed beside you, his skin warm against the sheets. An idea flickers in his eyes, and a light smirk crosses his face.

“Need to see you ride me.” He guides you to straddle him, before slipping your shirt off and pushing your panties to the side, bullying himself in. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp as he moves fervently, showing no signs of slowing down.

He gazes his eyes to the dog tag that's wrapped around your precious neck.

The atmosphere in the room thickens with a mix of hushed gasps and soft moans. Simon's heavy breathing cuts through the tension as pleasure envelopes him, growing more urgent.

“Tell me how good it feels love.”

As you near the edge, words struggle to get out, the only thing audible is your gasps.

“C’mon. Use your words,” he grunts out.

“Feels so fucking good Simon. Don't stop..” your words are followed by a whimper, your legs getting tired as you struggle to bounce on his massive size.

Noticing your struggle, he flips you over and mercilessly pounds you into the bed, aiming to finish you both off.

“That’s it, angel. Right there. Fuck you're so perfect.” he intertwines his fingers with yours, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles before resuming his thrusts.

As soon as you start cumming, Simon doubles his efforts, reaching his hand down to rub your swollen clit. He feels you tighten around him, legs trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

“Fuck, look at you.” he slows his movements, pulling out after he fills you up.

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart.” he spreads your legs a little more, positioning his face between them, planting a little kiss on your clit. He smirks as he maintains eye contact, his tongue darting out to tease your clit with a tight touch, circling it slowly.

His movements speed up, eventually adding his index and middle finger, slowly curling it to hit that perfect spot that makes you see stars.

You moan even louder than before, not even worrying about the neighbors. “More…” you manage to utter, your voice barely rising above a whisper as you use your last bit of resilience.

“Greedy little thing ain't ya?” his fingers move faster, deeper, as he maintains the intense abuse on your clit.

You throw your head back in pure ecstasy as you've officially been fucked dumb.

His fingers pump in and out of you ruthlessly, curling up periodically. He can feel you getting ready to cum again. He looks up at your thrown-back head, his mind racing with more ideas. “Turn over.”

He quickly flips you over into your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. He spreads your legs apart slightly, exposing your cunt. He spits on it, using his thumb to rub the saliva around your entrance.

He lines himself up with your dripping pussy, rubbing the thick head teasingly along your slit.

He pushes forward slightly, stretching you open as he sinks inside. “Fuck you're so tight, baby girl.” he pauses, letting you adjust to his size once more before starting to thrust slowly.

The dog tags jingle as he pounds into you, grabbing your hips tightly and pulling you back onto him with each powerful thrust. “Such a good girl.”

He reaches around and rubs your clit in firm circles, tormenting it further. “I can feel your little cunt gripping me. You gonna cum angel?”

Seeing you nod, he leans over, pressing his muscular chest against your back, his breath hot on your ear. “Then cum for me sweet girl.”

He growls deeply, feeling your pussy convulse around his cock as you cum. As he finishes emptying himself inside you, he collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling into your neck. “You’re so perfect.”

He kisses your neck softly, holding you close as his cum leaks out of your spent cunt. As he whispers comforting words into your ear, you feel yourself dozing off, completely spent from the night’s actions.

Simon smiles softly, adjusting you so you're comfortable against his chest. He pulls the blanket over the both of you, ensuring you're warm. A hand cups the back of your head, rubbing soothingly in your hair, making sure you feel safe.

“Sweet dreams, love. I got you.”

Proud of this one ngl

[succubusvalentine]

Simon Riley who needs a quickie when you bring him lunch while he's on base. CW : Housewife kink, bit of a breeding kink, dirty talk, hair pulling

You thought you'd do something nice for your boyfriend. Bring him a nice stroganoff.

You didn't think walking into Simon's office in a pretty little sundress and giving him a Tupperware of beef stroganoff would make him so utterly horny.

He couldn't help himself. What man could stand seeing his pretty bird acting like the cutest housewife for him and resist bending her over his desk to thank her?

"Can't look this good, baby" Simon growled. His hips snapping against yours with an audible slap. Over and over.

"I just-I thought it was nice!" you squeak over the sound of skin on skin.

"Oh it was, princess. It was so so nice of you. Being the perfect little housewife f'me"

"H-Housewife?!"

"Yeah, birdie. Gonna put a ring on your finger. Come home to you every night while you hold out a plate of hot food f'me"

You couldn't even think from how good Simon's cock was hammering against your gummy spot deep inside you. Small 'ah!'s coming from you with every thrust.

"You want that baby? Be my sweet wife?" Simon growled. a hand grabbing your scalp and pulling your head off the desk.

"Yes!' you beg, "yes yes, please Simon!" You practically wail.

"and then eventually, I'll fill you up nice and good with my kid. Get you all barefoot and pregnant f'me" Simon grinned wolfishly.

You felt the coil in your lower stomach tighten dangerously at that. The idea of being Simon's housewife, merely having to do the housework and get as many orgasms as you want.

It only took three swipes of Simon's thumb on your clit for you to tremble and cry out as you came.

"Tha's it. Good fucking girl, birdie" Simon groaned as you felt his hot ropes fill you. Patting your lower stomach with a rumbling chuckle

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

I wrote this while playing cookie run kingdom ngl to y'all.

[secretlovezz]

----------♡

Simon loves to kiss you.

Not the messy, desperate kisses like shown in movies, the ones that always lead to more -though he'll never complain if it happens- but the sweet intimate kisses that are shared between the two of you, those make life worth living.

The privilege of being able to press a gentle kiss to your lips, forehead, or cheek is unlike the usually brutal things he does when he's away and it gives him a feeling he never thought he'd find.

To love you is a privilege in itself and he's never been so grateful to have something before. He takes every opportunity to kiss you no matter what you're doing his lips will find their way to you.

Currently, his chest is pressed tightly to your back and his arms are wrapped like a viper around your torso while you cook breakfast. Simon's face presses against the side of your head nuzzling into your hair like a cat.

A smile graces your face at the feeling, "You alright, my love?" He grunts into your hair and nods before pressing what must be the twentieth kiss to your head that morning. You can only laugh- never did you think after meeting this man, this keep-to-himself man- that he would be the type to never want to let you go.

Simon's voice is still husky when he finally speaks, "I love you." He's quiet still hesitant to voice his feelings.

You twist in his hold and wrap your arms around his neck fingers lacing through the short hair at the base of his neck.

You place a quick peck on his lips, then one on each cheek, and one more on his forehead and it's all he needs to know that you love him too.