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#riley edits
jammerwaves · 2 months
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RANDOM PHIGHTING! ICONS GO
250 x 250 & free to use, credit not necessary but appreciated ^_^
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tojisun · 5 months
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!! smut - minors dni; this is fuckin nastyy so look away or smthn; breeding kink :’3
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mmm but simon not realizing he has breeding kink until someone brings it up
they’re out in a bar, chatting quietly even amidst the sheer volume of the weekend crowd, before johnny snorts and bumps his shoulders to simon’s in a teasing manner.
“especially LT,” johnny says, scottish accent even thicker now that he’s intoxicated. “he probably can’t wait to see his bonnie lass swollen with his kids. would probably retire jus’ for the very reason of makin’ her a momma.”
john snorts at johnny’s slurred words while kyle chokes on his drink, coughing quietly, almost politely, until john takes pity on the kid and smacks his back with measured thumps. johnny laughs, loud guffaws blending well with the buzz in the bar, but it’s not like simon noticed.
how could he focus when his mind’s feeding him images of the way you’d look heavy with a babe? or how he’d make it so that you are?
the way he’d fuck you until it takes; your pussy leaking and gaping and full of his cum. the way he’d keep you on his bed for hours, make a routine out of it until he’s repeating it for many days because he wouldn’t risk the chances. then, he can’t stop thinking about the way your body would change, building fat to cushion your belly, your sharp edges turning into soft and pudgy corners. the way you’d be so sensitive, so dependent on him.
fuck.
simon gets yanked back into the reality when he hears john chuckle, low rumbles of disbelief spilling from the puffs of his laughter. simon’s eyes flick up towards his captain and all john does is give him a pointed stare, his eyes crinkled in a surprised delight, before the older man tips his drink into his lips and finishes his bourbon.
simon’s fist closes around his glass of whiskey, and he tries his best to ignore the growing tightness of his jeans.
he can’t wait to file for a vacation leave.
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wintersongstress · 6 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley | Modern Warfare III (2023)
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casiia · 5 months
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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; smile for the camera.
warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, very slight exhibition (i think?), v! penetration, choking, size kink, female reader, unedited.
.: masterlist.
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simon has STACKS of polaroids of you for when he’s next deployed. you had bought the polaroid camera, all excited to pick up a new hobby; photography. he thought it was stupid, but doesn’t stop you and your aspiring career. you’re taking pictures of everything for the next few weeks. capturing every memory the two of you shared, and piles of pictures were scattered around each room in the house — random ones, blurred ones, blank ones that didn’t develop right.
when you suggest taking pictures for him one night, he doesn’t seem to catch the hint. why’d he have to waste his precious time and take pictures of you when you’re right here?
he still doesn’t understand. he huffs when you climb off of his lap and scurry into your shared bedroom, the soft mutters of the christmas movie you put on for background noise the only thing that catches his attention — and it annoys him. you come back, your shirt hiked up over your bra and the bulky coral-colored camera in hand. 
you sit back onto his lap, shoving the polaroid into his hand and guiding his finger onto the button. he accidentally clicks it, a flash blinding you momentarily and you laugh. 
“eager are we?”
he sucked on his teeth, his eyes rolling at your poor attempt to tease him. his free hand moves to your waist and dips his fingers below the hem of your shorts. you swat his hand away with a pout, mumbling something about patience but he’s too horny to hear – or care. 
simon lowers the camera as you begin to pull your shirt over your head, you whine and tell him to hold it right. but he snaps back and complains that it’s blocking his view. 
it’s your turn to roll your eyes, and you pout and tell him just to listen to you. he begrudgingly listens, muttering a retort under his breath that makes you smack his arm and shift off of his lap. but he’s quick to tug you back, saying he’s sorry and you’re just teasing him too much.
you shake your head, your finger hovering his, over the shutter button. you reach back with the other and undo your bra, letting it slip from your shoulder and into his lap. it’s then when you press down and simon takes a picture, your bare breast developing on the film as it slides out the exit slot. now he understands.
he watches with tight lips, waiting for the picture to develop and practically watching it turn into gold in front of his eyes. simon laughs in disbelief and looks at you, he wonders if this was your plan all along. play with it for a little before using it to make souvenirs for him, what a good girlfriend you were.
the hours blend and he has you bent and folded in every position he knows. it’s so embarrassing, and you find yourself covering your face or squeezing your thighs together, now trying to sheepishly hide from the lens.
but he tuts, reminding you that it was your idea. you can’t hide from him and if you try, he’ll keep you up all night — until he’s filled his album with enough pictures to relive any memory of you in bed.
he’s leaned back onto the sofa, one hand in your hair and one hand holding up the camera. he’s groaning loudly as you gag around his cock, your wide eyes fluttering up to meet his. he’s drooling at the sight, tears staining your blushed cheeks and dripping down your chin.
simon spreads his legs and angles the camera down to catch a glimpse of the way you have a hand wrapped around the base of his cock — too big for you to fit it all in your mouth. he snaps a picture, the flash making little dots cloud your vision.
you giggle, pulling your lips off of him to which he annoyingly grunts, trying to push back into your mouth.
“how many more of these are y’gonna take?”
you ask, pressing your cheek into the inside of his thigh. you’re not even looking at him anymore, so focused on his cock and the way your saliva makes his foreskin glisten.
he can’t resist, simon takes another picture and pulls the developing film from the dispenser, tossing it into the pile with the other pictures he’s taken. your face just looks so small aligned with his cock, the angle making him so much larger than he was.
“m’takin as many as i want. what am i gonna do when i miss you when i’m away and need to release some stress?”
simon tugs at your hair, nodding over to the cushions next to him. his hands immediately find your waist when you stand and he pushes you down into the couch. your hair sprawling over the pillows as you look up at him with wide eyes.
another giggle escapes you, your hand covers your mouth to suppress the laughter. it wasn’t that you were surprised about him being so needy, it’s the way he had a mountain of pictures lazily tossed into a pile. film wrappers crumpled lazily and strewn across the coffee table, the packages once holding refills for the film.
“what’s funny, bun?”
simon’s voice is hoarse, he’s spreading your legs and another picture is added to his collection. the way your cunt is glistening with the flash, your juices smeared on your inner thighs. he swears he’s going to cherish these forever, keep them around til’ they are all tattered and barely visible.
your breath is knocked from your lungs, and you can’t form words no matter how hard you try. he’s sliding his cock in between your folds, nudging your clit with his angry red tip. you whine, your hips bucking up to meet his, needing more friction to ease your arousal; and he takes another picture, how he wishes these images could capture sounds.
he’s pressing his fat, heavy cock against your stomach, a groan spilling from his lips when his tip is leaking just below your belly button. simon smears his precum against your skin, translucent globs dribbling from his slit.
“look at that, gonna be in your fuckin’ stomach.”
simon grins at the sight, but before he gives you the pleasure of filling you up, he’s leaning over you and pressing his lips to your neck. your fingernails dig into his shoulders, crescents forming under your touch, and a slew of apologies is mumbled under your shaky breath.
he hums into the crook of your neck, nipping harshly at your skin before dragging his rough tongue over the spot — soothing the bite. simon trails down to your breast, leaving a path of love bites and covering you in his mark.
while he has you distracted, he shifts his hips and pushes himself into you slowly sinking in inch by inch before he’s balls deep. he leans back and he groans at the sight, you are completely exposed for him with his bitemarks sloppily etched into your skin, a bulge forming in your belly. he slides his calloused hand up in between the valley of your breast and he wraps his hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly, and when you moan quietly as if flustered like it’s the first time he has you filled with his cock —  he snaps another picture. afraid that this moment will vanish.
that was the last of the film that he has. but god, it’s worth it. he promises he’ll buy you more in the morning, but he’s dropped the camera and holding you close. his throbbing cock plunging in and out of your squelching cunt, your juices painting his abdomen, shining his muscles under the dim light.
when he has to leave, he gathers EVERY SINGLE ONE and hides it in between the pages of an old magazine. no one would be caught dead snooping through his things, but it was a precaution he took because he didn’t want you exposed for all of his teammates to see. you were his, and he was never one of share.
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AN: guys...i don't even have words tbh. just simon and like he WOULD take so many pics i'm just sooo :((( urgh. i hate him. if i missed any warnings lmk!
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sunsetsimon · 5 months
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simon finally back home after being away for nearly a month. his body is sore, aching with each movement as he unloads his duffle bag. it's silent throughout the house, his throbbing headache thankfully easing up now that he's home.
the shower in your attached bathroom turns on, your signal to simon that you're ready for him to join you. he takes off his hoodie, throwing it on the bed before walking to the door. he pushes it open, revealing your clothes on the floor and you leaning against the counter naked. a pair of tweezers plucks at the space between your brows. "that was irritating me," you say as he observes you.
he huffs in amusement, shaking his head while he starts to undress. simon watches as you walk into the shower, hips swaying beautifully. your subtle sexiness drives him insane, never able to comprehend just how attracted he is to you.
cold hands wrap around your waist as he joins you, his bare body flush against yours. his lips on your neck send shivers down your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin. "feels s'good to be home," simon mumbles on your skin, his huge hands softly rubbing your tummy.
"missed you a lot," you sigh, melting into his touch. "i don't want you to leave again."
his hands move along you, massaging your chest as he covers you in his kisses. he loves the way you twitch and gasp when he pinches your nipples, knees buckling at the sudden sensation.
"wanna wash you, dove," simon says, one hand reaching for the bottle of soap on the shelf next to you.
he switches places with you, the hot water quickly easing the tense muscles in his shoulders as it pounds against his back. lathering it onto a fresh cloth, he starts to wash your back, foamy soap covering your skin.
"are you actually going to wash me or just tease me?"
"maybe both. we have time."
"the water will get cold."
"i'll keep you warm, just relax," he chuckles, "no rush."
simon takes his time washing every part of your body. he builds you up until your legs are trembling, a silent beg for him to stop teasing you. but he takes such good care of you the entire night, fully satisfied and clinging to his side in bed until you drift off to sleep.
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dovabunny · 6 months
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Base doc: Captain Price, I want to talk about Lieutenant Riley's psych eval.
Price: problem?
Doc: He's not taking the assessment seriously and jokes around.
Price, looking at Ghost's eval form: No, he's serious.
Doc:...what.
Ghost's psych eval form:
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flosgaudium · 7 months
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"I'm not gonna see him."
hi yes i'm aware that this happens during the 'alone' mission but... what if ghost crept up on these two lol
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deadunderorbit · 6 months
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minor MWIII spoilers
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They are not paying attention at all
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moondirti · 1 month
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cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this
a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.
you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.
they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.
that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.
until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.
no one shows up.
not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.
but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.
at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering over two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.
“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.
“lieutenant riley.”
oh.
you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”
“wha’ a shame.”
lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.
“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”
“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.
this strange man is in your home.
this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.
he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.
(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)
“your… your room is on the left.”
he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.
so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.
whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.
you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.
the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.
not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.
of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.
“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–
riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”
then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.
the bar is in hell.
(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)
it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.
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jammerwaves · 2 months
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THE REST OF THE PHIGHTERS PLUS SOME EXTRAS
250 x 250 & free to use, credit not necessary but appreciated ^_^
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tojisun · 2 months
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giggling thinking about how simon loves it when you introduce him as your boyfriend.
he thinks it is so refreshing, so endearing, to have this cute little label tacked onto him. he was never really that big with labels, after all. he was anything you want him to be; you are what you always were to him—his angel. his beloved. his sweetheart.
"this is si," you say, smiling. "my boyfriend!"
simon riley, a man who is worse than he really lets you on. but for now, for today, he is just your boyfriend.
"s'right, lovie," he whispers to you later when it is just the two of you. "m'your boyfriend."
he feels himself smiling, all dopey, his cheeks bright as he nuzzles his nose on your cheek.
my boyfriend, you said.
god, he thinks. what an honour.
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wintersongstress · 6 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley | Modern Warfare III (2023)
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collinnmckinley · 10 months
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Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II - gifs 23/? | Ghost + 🔪
BONUS: 
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sinsofsinister · 1 year
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ɢʜᴏsᴛ & ᴋᴏ̈ɴɪɢ - ᴍʏ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs :)
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pogidoow · 11 months
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Eye contact edits because the big man is always side-eyeing us (ft. König)
All photos are edits of @yumethefrostypanda 's screenshots ❤
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sunsetsimon · 5 months
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apology - simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader
thanks for requesting anon <3
nsfw ahead! mdni
also sorry i had to rush the end but i promise ill have something better out later!!! - sun
─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────
the bed dips as simon lays next to you, finally coming to bed after avoiding you for the last 2 hours. he knew he fucked up earlier when he forgot the main thing you sent him to the store for. you'd been looking forward to trying out a new recipe you'd found online and knowing it'd take a while, you asked him to run to the store and grab some stock for the soup.
"in a bit, dove. 'm gonna finish this workout first," he said when you asked him. you nodded in agreeance, not realizing 'finishing his workout' meant taking an hour run around the neighborhood.
and of course you could've gone yourself, but simon always prefers you ask him to do things like that and you wanted to be patient. he gives you a quick call when he gets to the store, stopping there on his run, "stock, tomato paste, cream and rice. thas'it love?"
as he's on his way home he can't help but feel like he forgot something, it nags at him but he continues anyway. greeting him with a kiss at the door, you grab the bag from him and carry it to the kitchen so he can take off his shoes.
"ugh- simon! i told you to get stock!"
simon stares at you puzzled, but makes an 'oh shit' face when he realizes, "ah fuck! knew i forgot something, i'll go back now."
"it's fine, i'll just have something else," you sigh, leaving the items on the counter and walking away. he tries to stop you, saying he'll be quick but your mood has already been ruined, waving your hand in dismissal. you retreat to your room for a while, reading your book until simon decided to check on you.
"'m sorry about earlier. was being a dumbass and forgot."
"you could've just called me," you reply with a slight irritated tone in your voice, eyes not leaving the page of your book, though you weren't reading anymore.
"i know, i should've," he nods, pulling you to him on the bed, his arms wrapping around your body, his head on your stomach. "i can't make up for it now, but i am sorry."
you reread the page again, attempting to focus on the words. simon's fingers grab at the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling it down to reveal the skin of your stomach and hip. your legs twitch as his wet lips trail kisses along your tummy, his short blond hair tickling your skin. his touch is addicting, you instantly melt into him, a wanting ache growing in your pussy.
he works your pants off, throwing them to the side and pushing your legs open wide. leaning forward, he kisses the wet spot in the fabric, his nose bumping your clit. the muscles in your thighs ripple, flexing to keep them open while he teases you. sticking out his tongue, he flattens it against your clit, his hot breath only making you wetter.
dragging your panties down, he groans at the wet stickiness of your slick on the fabric. taking a deep breath as he holds them to his nose, "fuck, y' smell so good."
"simon..." you whine, feeling like you might die if he doesn't do something. anything.
"g'nna make you cum, dove. as an apology." simon leans down, his mouth latching onto your cunt. he moans against you, pulling you closer as if he could devour your entire pussy. his hips rut against the mattress, grinding down to ease some of the pressure.
he revels in the way you cry his name, desperately fucking yourself onto his tongue. two fingers slide into you easily, pushing deep and curling against that spongey spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. you tug his hair, holding him close to you as he sucks your clit, flicking his tongue on it quickly.
“gonna cum-“ you barely make out, jaw clenching to hold back your moans.
simon only hums against you, raising onto his elbows, pulling your hips into the air. his tongue prods at your entrance, lapping at the sweet wetness thats dripping out of you. his fingers fuck you expertly, pulling you to orgasm quickly. you squeal as you cum, legs shaking and mind spinning as it washes over you. his dark eyes are on you, watching intensely as you writhe in his arms, whining ‘okay-okay’ until he finally stops.
“how was that?” he asks, finally pulling away with a smirk on his scarred lips. his chin glistens, your sweet wetness all over the bottom half of his face. of course he already knows the answer, he just wants to embarrass you.
“oh shut up and come here, simon.”
fuck he’s good at apologies.
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