Idk If Yall Missed My Headcanons But I Got Bored And Figured Out Which Dog Breed The 141 Would Be + Co

simon’s first instinct was always to protect you—before himself, before anyone or anything else. whether in dangerous situations or small, everyday moments, his reflexes kicked in without hesitation. every action was a subtle yet undeniable promise: i’ll always keep you safe.

sidewalk rule? it was non-negotiable. he always made sure he was between you and the street, shielding you from traffic. if you drifted too close to the curb, his hand would find the small of your back, guiding you firmly to his side.

“stay here,” he would murmur, his tone gentle yet resolute, as if daring the world to try anything.

whenever the car came to a sudden halt, simon’s arm instinctively shot out in front of you, bracing against your chest. the seatbelt should’ve been enough, but he never trusted anything more than his own reflexes.

“you alright?” he’d ask, his hand lingering just a little longer, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

in a crowded space, simon always led the way, carving a path with his broad frame. his hand would stay on yours or at your back, making sure you stayed close. and on a full train, he caged you in without hesitation, using his size to shield you from the press of strangers. his arms rested casually against the poles, but his stance was clear—no one would get too close.

whether you were climbing into the car or walking through a door, simon’s hand would always reach out to guide your head, ensuring you didn’t bump it. in the kitchen, he’d gently tilt your head away from open cabinets, all without thinking. it was pure instinct—small actions that spoke louder than words.

one night at 3 a.m., a car backfired down the street, the sound tearing through the stillness. before you could even react, simon had you pinned beneath him, his body shielding yours entirely. his heart raced, convinced it was a bomb. even after realizing it wasn’t, he didn’t let go, whispering against your ear, “i’ve got you, lovie.”

you could wear whatever you wanted—simon never cared. he wasn’t possessive, but confident. no one would dare glance too long in your direction, not with him at your side. and if anyone was foolish enough to try, one sharp look from simon was enough to make them think twice.

with simon, protection wasn’t just instinct—it was devotion. in every gesture, every glance, every step, he ensured you knew: your safety will always come first. because to simon, loving you meant keeping you safe—always, no matter the cost.

don't stress about that opportunity that fell through or that friend you lost or that thing you really want to happen but isn't. as long as you keep your chin up and try try try again, better things will replace your losses. i'm looking at my life rn and actually marveling at how every single thing i stressed about, whether it be an opportunity or a person, got supplanted w another thing that is so much better. it really is true that loss makes space for better things. these days i don't get sad when something doesn't work out. i get excited that i'm now open to so many other possibilities out there, so long as i actively seek them. you never lack. you just transition.

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s always got presents on hand for your birthday and holidays. he’s almost embarrassed about stockpiling gifts for you, all neatly tucked in the back of his closet… almost. that nagging embarrassment is quick to fade when your eyes light up, always excited that he bought you something and how, “Simon Riley, you didn’t have to get me anything!”

Roommate!Simon Riley that specifically likes buying you rings. nothing too fancy that would raise your suspicion, but always something shiny and pretty - something he wouldn’t dare tell you how much it cost. silver, gold, anything in between, if he thinks it’d look good on you he buys it. he likes seeing those bands decorate your fingers, reflecting in the light when you happily show them off to friends and family

Roommate!Simon Riley that gets one engraved - his initials delicately printed inside the band. he plays nonchalant, voice even when you notice, “Hm? Engraved is it? Didn’t know.”. you laugh it off, tell him ‘thank you’ before grabbing your phone. he loves when your friends ask you about the jewelry, how you always point to him as the one whose covered you in pretty metals and eye-catching accessories

Roommate!Simon Riley who has a matching ring, your initials engraved on it. snug on his ring finger when he’s at base - pretends it’s a wedding band, that his spouse is waiting for him at home. Simon doesn’t flaunt that ring at home though, not when he can have you tucked against his side. no, Simon doesn’t have that band on his ring finger, he slips it on with his dog tags. tucked under shirt, safe and sound on that silver chain as he holds you tightly

happy international women's day to all of my beautiful girl bloggers 𝜗𝜚

i need an espresso martini and an handsome older man’s hands in my hair.

mechanic!simon riley headcanons

mechanic!simon riley who swore he fell in love with you the minute you walked in the shop, your eyes wide but your expression serious. his usual customers are on the older side and always men who are too insufficient to fix a car on their own, so you were the perfect change of pace.

mechanic!simon riley who knew as a woman you were highly likely to get ripped off by other mechanics, so he was glad you came to his shop. he makes sure to offer you water and some light snacks. he doesn't do that with his other customers, but you're an exception.

mechanic!simon riley who thought it was hot when you got straight to the point before he could even introduce himself. you already diagnosed your car before you came because like simon, you knew how you could get scammed in repair shops. you nodded when he asked if you knew a lot about cars and he replied with, "a woman after my own heart."

mechanic!simon riley who is already wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt, but rolls up the sleeves to his shoulders so you could get a view of just how huge his biceps were. it doesn't help your temptation when you see that his tattoo sleeve in fact does continue up until his shoulder.

mechanic!simon riley who on purpose makes sure his t-shirt lifts a little bit higher than usual while he's working on your undercarriage. he's lying down under the car, and makes sure to extend his arms higher so he can tease the gorgeous combination that is his happy trail, abs, and v-line to you.

mechanic!simon riley who drains the oil in your car on purpose while he's working on it just enough so that you have to come back a second time and so that he has an excuse to see your gorgeous self again.

mechanic!simon riley who doesn't let you pay for any of the repairs you needed. he reasoned with you saying you had enough trouble driving the car to the shop as it was, and doesn't want to add on to it.

(idk)

simon riley whose insomnia went away when he met you

cw: pure fluff - no tag list

after retirement simon still felt the scars and pain as if they were fresh. he often found himself staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his shabby apartment, his large body sprawled out as the thin grey sheets were half on him and half on the cold wooden floorboard.

it was like he could hear the gun shots, the commands being shouted and the smell of smoke. if he was lucky and got some sleep, he would wake up in the middle of the night sweating, jolted awake as his scarred hand was in his chest, his breaths heavy and sharp. never did he think he would get a good night’s rest.

until you.

at first he didn’t even recognise it, his head on your lap as you watched soccer on the television, and simon never missed a game. his eyes felt droopy, the commentary from the show slowly faded as his breathing evened out, the feeling of your nails against his hair making his whole body go limp.

and when he woke up, it wasn’t like the usual nightmare induced sudden jolt, no. it was peaceful.

slowly blinking groggily before realising what had happened.

he fell asleep.

it was only for an hour, but that was the best sleep he had ever gotten.

slowly, he started to sleep more, taking occasional naps with you in his arms, where the two of you slowly migrated from watching tv on the couch to the comfort of his own bed.

his sad flimsy excuse of a bed now adorned in thick blankets and throws just to make the experience a little better.

then he started to go to bed early. usually he would be in bed at best by 1am, finding any excuse to not go, and yet he found himself bundled up next to you by 9.

then, he woke up later, finding any excuse to sleep in. “jus’ ten more minutes,” his voice muffled as he snuggled deep into the crook of your neck, pitting his whole body weight on you so you couldn’t leave.

suddenly, the bed became his favourite place.

in case you’re like me and needed this more than you knew — i love you <3