#Simon Riley Headcanons

[dmitriene]

simon on his knees in front of you, his heavy arms wrapped around your waist with astonishing tenderness, his head resting peacefully on your lap, where your fingers run through his short cropped blonde strands, burrowing into the dark roots of his hair.

you scratch and weave the soft strands between your fingers, moving down the back of his head to his neck, running your nails over his nape and gathering short strands of blonde hair, immediately pulling a muffled growl of — “feels s' good, luv, don'' stop„ from simon's mouth before he stretches his neck.

there's tv with some kind of movie working muffled on the background, to which you periodically direct your attention, while your hand scratches and strokes simon's head, occasionally moving behind his ears and allowing him to press the side of his face against your warm palm, light eyelashes tickling your skin.

the next time, you don't hear unintelligible growls and purrs, but a soft snores in your lap, letting you know that simon fell asleep, so you gently turn his face on the side, so his cheek would rest on your leg, as you lean over to kiss him gently on the top of his head, whispering a soft — “sleep tight, si„ before continuing your stroking.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[stargirlstabber]

𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨!𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔢𝔯!𝔰𝔦𝔪𝔬𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰 @m0chac0ffee @thevoidwriting @gggbhikl @milafsc

@niktosillies @ravenmoore14 @fatsallylee @youdontneedtoknow1226

@blusterry-bomb @likisroseee @diedee @s1monsgirl

@callsignfangs @sleepy-666 @jsisnsjnshemskenjs @katzykat

@poohkie90 @rainybl0ss0m316 @holyqueenpeanut @daddycllown

@poohkie90 @bumblbeesworld

dark!stalker!simon who would definitely watch you through your windows. naïve little girl never closes the blinds.

dark!stalker!simon who has cameras installed in every single room, covering every angle so there's no way you escape his hungry gaze.

dark!stalker!simon who has countless pictures of you; shopping, out with your friends, on a party, cleaning your house, touching yourself, watching movies, sleeping,...

dark!stalker!simon who leaves gifts at your doorstep, the last one was a red rose without thorns and your favorite scrunchie, the one you thought you lost.

dark!stalker!simon who has a box full of your underwear, jerking off to your delicious smelling panties.

dark!stalker!simon who makes the men who talk to you disappear, slowly isolating you from your family and friends. he just wants to protect his little sweetheart.

dark!stalker!simon who has a spare key to your house, inviting himself in when you're not home or passed out thanks to the drugs he spiked your drink with earlier at a party. stupid little lamb.

dark!stalker!simon who writes small notes, putting them around your house "You looked so beautiful today. I couldn't help but watch you from across the street."

dark!stalker!simon who will find you, no matter where and how long you try and run away from him.

[simonrillleyyysss]

clumsy!reader x simon??

thanks for ur req, nonnie!!

i feel like he’s soo caring, his instincts and reflexes are heightened by 2000 percent whenever you’re around—cooking dinner? he has an arm slung around your waist while he watches you cut the carrot, reminding you to love your finger up as to not cut yourself,

or if you’re walking and trip? he’s quickly grabbing your forearm and holding you in place, yanking you up slowly afterwards, scolding you about how you need to be more careful.. not be so clumsy! you’re a grown adult, act like one!!!

cuddling? he has his arm wrapped tight around your waist, kissing the back of your neck while telling you not to fall out of the bed teasingly, let’s go for one minute and you managed to roll off, hitting your head on the night side table.

“oh, baby.. sore?”

“yeah—really hurts, banged it hard..”

“let me get you peas.”

has a stack of frozen vegetables for you to put against your limps and bumps, so prepared for anything..

sex? even worse, sometimes you’re trying to sit on his face and end up collapsing off the side of the sofa with a thud, watching him break into cackles afterwards; telling you he’s not laughing at you, but your fall..

“oh, come on. baby.. you know i didn’t mean it, yeah?”

“it’s not funny simon! i fell..”

“yeah? n’when don’t you?”

makes it up to you by choking himself on your cunt, mumbling out apologies while you cum :3

sometimes you accidentally sit down on his cock and manage to slide it into the wrong hole— not a worry! he can just keep going.. that’s how you found out you both liked anal.

[glittergoblinzz]

I've always wondered why Ghost sounds like a 50 year old smoker....

Now I know why...

Zombies is canon in the new Modern Warfare timeline, right? It takes place only a few months after Modern Warfare 2019. I know the Zombie Ghost skin ain't shit to go off of but I'm 90% certain Ghost really was bitten, broke his jaw in his final moments and then turned....

His fucked up jaw and the fact he was a zombie for quite a while before a cure was managed to be coughed up absolutely 100% affected his vocal cords and now he sounds 20 years older than he really is....

[sketchyfandomgirl]

Thinking of Simon who actually gets excited to teach/talk about the process of butchering, showing off the whole process from start to end.

[peaches-creek]

“You are squishing me.”

“I’m afraid you will live.” He bluntly says.

Simon was currently draped across you on your shared bed, essentially pinning you to the mattress. His eyes were closed as his head lay on your chest. He just came home from a mission, only to start a new one: snuggle with his lovie AKA you. Lucky for you he stopped to take a shower. Anyways, here you were, glued to the mattress as Simon just breathes you in.

“Was it a tough one?” You ask.

“Always is rough when I can’t see you for a month.” He huffs.

“I’m sure you did a great job, Price told me last time I saw him that he always is proud of how hard you work, he tries to tell you but you don’t let him.”

“He’s a sap.” He says. You only laugh, turning your head to kiss his head.

“Well Mr. Riley, I say we call it a night.”

“Mrs. Riley, I have been waiting for you to say those words.” He grunts, lifting his hand up to pull the light switch off.

“I love you Simon, I’m glad you are home.”

“Me too, lovie, me too.”

He presses deeper into your chest, giving it a small kiss. You begin to rub his back and neck, putting the 6’3 military man to sleep just about instantly.

[empresskylo]

you can't convince me that simon doesn't swoon when you first start calling him by his first name.

like he's so used to being ghost to everyone. even back home, he doesn't have many people there anymore, no one to know him as simon. at most, it's the man at the local convenience store or his one nice neighbor in the apartment across from his who knows him as that. and on that rare occasion price says his real name, he feels human again.

but when he finally tells you his name, you instantly start using it instead of calling him ghost. the first time he hears it over comms, he gets this weird butterfly feeling in his stomach. he becomes so infatuated with the way you say his name.

he likes that you're the only one to call him that, just like he's the only one to call soap johnny. when someone else teases him, asking if they can call him simon too, he definitely grunts out a ‘i wouldn’t if i were you’

and whenever you call him si, he is reminded how much he fucking loves you. he gets so soft when you call him that. it's like reminding him he's not just a killer or a weapon of mass destruction. he's a person. he's your person. he's more than the mask.

[heartmix]

Simon Riley Headcanons

random headcanons that i have of olderbf!Simon.

Olderbf!Simon who sees you stressing about the way the economy is shit and everything is so expensive.

Olderbf!Simon who rolls his eyes knowing his years of savings and his income will make you and the next generation live comfortably. Why did you even go to college? There was nothing or no one else to spend it on anyways.

Olderbf!Simon who loves that you don't want to work a regular 9-5 or that you don't want to work a regular job in general. You instead have side gigs when you're bored. Your friend needed an extra pair of hands for a work assignment? Sure. Once a month event staff for whatever concert is in town? You love that.

Olderbf!Simon who watches the silly tiktoks and mini vlogs you make while he is away. He doesn't actually have tiktok downloaded but you always send him the videos you make.

Olderbf!Simon who agrees to do one of the tiktok trends with you. The one where it goes "I'm a ____ of course I ______." You didn't need to tell him how it worked. You showed him one video and he understood the assignment.

"I'm a Military wife. Of course, my husband has a side piece."

"I will literally k*ll myself before I look at another woman."

"It was a joke."

"Not a funny one, love."

Olderbf!Simon who is used to your hyperfixations changing every month. His "office" is filled with trinkets and collectibles of your newest obsessions. As a matter of fact, the whole apartment is filled with your stuff. At this point, you'll need to make new storage or get rid of things.

"I think I may have a problem or adhd. Some sort of mental illness."

"I think it's time to get a house."

Olderbf!Simon who lets you pick everything. The only thing he did was give the money. As long as you're happy he didn't care where he lived or what the colors of the bathroom walls were.

[stargirlstabber]

dark!stalker!simon headcanons coming later today, interact for tags i guess-

here it isss

[dmitriene]

simon riley loves himself a chubby girl — being a big man he is simon addicted to the feel of weight against him, as well as the softness, plushness of the supple flesh, and he isn't small by himself at all.

he's got a lot of muscle mass, a wide body with a small belly and wide palms that will fit perfectly on your body, he's ready to swear he's just going crazy when he sees the chubby girls, and you've come to him at the best time to knock a man to his knees before you.

simon is gentle and caring — all the best for his girl, he can't keep his hands to himself, he can't stop carrying you in his arms like a princess and moving mountains for you alone, he even learned to cook, no matter how difficult it is, just to please you with your favorite treats.

and he especially loves you in the bed, with passion and tenderness, stroking the supple skin and every fold and your pudgy belly as if you were about to shatter like a marble sculpture.

simon treats you like one, too — calloused and rough, wide palms caress every hollow and stretch mark that forms on your skin like tiger stripes with a tenderness that makes you shudder, fingers greedily, almost possessively gripping your rounded ass and digging in before moving to your waist.

he caresses, kisses, whispers sweet words of affection that slip past his thin lips with rumbling purrs like — “fricking hell you pretty, my beautiful girl with such a perfect, mind blowing body„ and you can't even muster anything harsh against yourself, tell him he's not right, because he is, you're a goddess to him.

a goddess with a sweet, fat pussy that he likes to devour with you sitting on his face, your body is literally limp and occasionally trembling with small convulsions of pleasure while simon's crooked nose fidgets and rubs against your clit, his wide tongue flattens against your weeping, fluttering cunt.

you drown his face in your honey like sweet slick and creamy cum, letting it dribble past your folds against his lapping tongue that already curls deeper again — simon won't let you off till he pulled at least couple of orgasms out of you.

because he likes to see how you look when he folds you in missionary, to see your glossy and half lidded delirious gaze, your body feels even softer, limp after all that he's done with his tongue, emptying you completely and leaving only mess and pulsing need in your puffy, clenching pussy.

so simon will fuck you nicely, stuffing you full of his meaty cock as you'll cunt grip him tightly, sucking him balls deep and he wouldn't even mind — harsh rolls of his hips leaving you gasping and mewling into the thick air, skin glistening with sweat as he toys with your pretty, rounded tits and cups them as gently, while rearranging your insides.

he'll make you cum again and again, fill you with his potent, creamy loads just to see how it dribbles out of your gooey cunny, making simon's every new thrust squelch.

and he won't stop fucking his pretty girl into the mattress, with his slightly pudgy stomach rubbing against your belly — until you squirt all over the sheets and shake against the sheets, vision whitening out as your cunt clamp and pulse around his fat length, with simon grinning smugly.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[yawnderu]

You can never take the military out of a man. Not when that man lost so much thanks to it, giving it his very own soul to serving the Queen and saving the world. Not a single thought about retirement ever going through Simon's head, fully accepting and embracing the idea of dying on the field, of having a warrior's death, fighting tooth and nail until someone gets lucky enough to finally put him down— until you came along.

Simon Riley is a proper lad now, well in his 50's and on his fifth year of retirement, strands of grey adorning his dark brown hair, a thin layer of fat covering his bulging muscles that seem to be getting bigger by the years, never one to stand still for too long and secretly loving the way you praise his body like he's a God.

He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, another deep moan dragging its way out of his throat at the way your hand wraps around his thick cock with a vice-like grip, your warm tongue circling his leaking tip, his salty precum mixing in with your saliva.

“Like tha', baby.” Simon whispers, his hand wrapping around a fistful of your pretty hair the moment you lick a teasing stripe over his bulbous, pink tip. His free hand quickly replaces yours— something you're too familiar with after being together for so many years, your hands resting on his thick thighs just to feel the way his muscles ripple beneath your soft palms.

“Open your mouth.” It's not an order, it's a plea, his gravelly voice becoming slightly whiny with each deep groan leaving his lips as he wanks over your face, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath he was forced to take. Your lips part with no hesitation, the warmth of your breath as your tongue pokes out of your mouth is what sends him over the edge, ropes of thick, hot cum landing in your mouth with an accuracy that could have surprised you if you weren't too busy being enthralled by your husband.

Simon looks like a fucking painting, the light coming from the ceiling giving his bulging muscles the perfect shadow, his thin lips slightly parted and a light stubble adorning his pale cheeks, half-lidded eyes staring down at you with blown pupils as he mindlessly smears his hot, creamy cum all over your face with his sensitive tip, just as enamoured as you are.

[alwaysshallow]

marriage of convenience with ghost....... is definitely not for the weak. or, if you think he's still gonna be this grumpy son of a bitch that you know from your high school days.

you need money and good health plan; and he can provide you that, so with trembling hands, you send him a letter; strictly to his unit. not many details, as if someone would read it, you'd be in trouble. just a simple ask if you could meet with him, if he still remembers you because you still remember him.

it's not easy as you'd like to, though - everything has to wait because he's on deployment for the next two months, but you can wait. you struggle, but you wait.

in the meantime, you exchange letters with him, as it's more of a "stationing" deployment rather than a open crossfire; you didn't expect he'd be so much of a talker in them. you learn about him and his "comrades" (because he rarely uses the word friends anymore), what it's like. what he misses, and you learn that he miss you.

you feel kind of bad that you reached out to him for materialistic matter in the first place. you feel even more bad when you see him right in front of you after two months of writing to each other.

he changed. very much so; he's bigger and wider than he was in high school. more nonchalant, nothing like a quiet boy like he was. simon looks like he owns the place, even if the said place is a hill that you used to chill at after school.

you break news to him within ten minutes of the meeting, nervous. there's a lot of monologue from your side, you don't even let him talk until he grips your jaw in his monstrous hand and your lips shut themselves automatically.

"okay."

and then, just like it, it's done. you think it's gonna be easy, an open marriage until you're gonna be stable. he's so much on deployment anyway, he said it himself, so you won't be obliged to do "wife duties".

you thought this way until the wedding night. until he grabbed you and asked how would you like it.

[sketchyfandomgirl]

Imagine what if during Shepard’s betrayal, his aim was just a little off from Ghost’s chest, he hits Ghost lower, and the bullet hits his thoracic area, causing paralysis from the waist down

Now Ghost is only helpless to watch Roach burn alongside him, and he’s unable to drag his fellow soldier to safety out of the ditch. At best, he can only drag himself out to safety.

[granddaughterogg]

Simon Riley truly wants to watch movies with you before sleep.

Of course he does.

Your dedication to the case disarms him, even though he wouldn't let it show. The amount of time you spend on choosing the right flick. The way you arrange your battered laptop on top of a pile of books set on a chair, placed at a strategic distance from your shared bed.

He loves to watch as you fluff the pillows (each one from a different set, including Blahaj the plush shark). To watch as you press the 'play' button and then look up to him with starry eyes, saying: "This is gonna be good!"

He's endeared to the way you crawl under the duvet (and under the electric blanket as well, because Simon is perpetually cold) to snuggle trustingly into his side. How you throw your short leg over his massive thigh, clad in grey sweatpants.

Here's the problem though. All those small luxuries...the soft bedding, the familiar warmth of your body and the pleasant buzz emitted by the laptop engulf Simon in a soothing sense of safety. And there's only one way that a trained soldier's body can metabolise such a feeling.

The man conks out instantly and sleeps like a stone.

At first, you felt offended by this rejection of your honed cinephile taste. By the fifth time, you've realised it wasn't about the films or about you.

You've stopped poking him. You'd just slid your fingers into his tousled, reddish-blond hair, which gets all wavy whenever Simon skips his bi-monthly trip to the barber. You've learned to enjoy the rest of the film by your lonesome, listening to Simon's quiet snores by your side. You let this troubled soul enjoy his moment of peace.

Yes - the fearsome Ghost snores. He's had his nose broken more times than he can remember.