Mars to Earth

20 send your ideas!

[artemisgc]

I have seen so many blurbs post about Simon and his new born baby, some people hc that he would have the tiniest little bean baby in the world and others say that the baby would be huge. I absolutely adore this! keep posting about this man and their little/huge babies please! 🙏🏼

[artemisgc]

Sweet view — chubby! reader x Simon Riley

Simon always considered your clothes fashion worth of admiring. The first couple dates you shared he would always made mental notes of what you would were. Every time he would have to mentally slap himself to actually engage in the conversation you two were having— but he just could not concentrate, not when his eyes follow the path of your soft pink top that made your skin radiate and make you look so soft, the dainty little heart shape necklace that hung around pretty neck, and the pretty jeans that were clinged to your waisted so perfectly despite being a little baggy.

Nonetheless, Simon was infatuated with all the things that made you be you — your fashion, the way your voice seemed to soften when talking to him, how your hands would fidget with the edge of the cup of tea you were holding in your hands, your smile, your aroma, and so on. Of course all of this in a respectful way, always making sure to know your boundaries of what made you comfortable.

As your relationship made a path to a more stable commitment for the two of you, it seemed like you started to get more comfortable wearing things that Simon didn’t get to see in the beginning of the relationship— and he was definitely not mad to have waited to be with such a beautiful, wonderful, intelligent, and loving person as you were.

Simon knew you were a little skittish about revealing or attracting more attention than needed from anyone other than Simon. Specially when it came to clothing that in your own words “didn’t fit your body type”.

“It’s o’right, love” he would say while looking down at you “years in the military ‘ve taught me how to fight any prick. I can beat anyone that makes more eye contact than need”

After that, he saw and felt the shift on your confidence, on him more than not, when choosing clothes to hang around him or to go out.

During the morning, you decided that going to the mall was not a bad idea. Your outfits were starting to get a little repetitive. Simon agreed with you, but unfortunately, he couldn’t go with you. You promised that after you came back, you’d give him a “haul tour” of what you had bought during the day in your shopping spree. He wished to be there with you as he signed and read endless papers about what it seemed at the moment, unimportant things— he wished he could be there with you to help choose things for your wardrobe, and who knows maybe through a little revealing pieces so you could wear them for him. He apologized for not tagging along with you, but paperwork had to be done as soon as possible. 

Once you came back, he was immediately sitting down in the edge of the bed— waiting for you to model for him. The first year pieces of clothing were cute; couple top’s with flowery and cherry patters, some accessories like ear rings and rings that you thought could go along with more of your wardrobe.

But you saved the best for the end. He knew you had waited for this to go down at the end.

As you came out of the restroom, he saw the little smirk you were not really hiding. His eyes scanned your body from top to bottom. 

It was a whole new outfit the one you got on. A tiny top that barely did the job of covering your chest, he could see the fabric making an effort to not spill it, and as you approach him you did a mini twirl on that damn mini skirt that barely did the work of covering your bottom. He made sure to keep a mental imagine of how you looked for later, this was the first time seeing you like this.

Simon licked his, what seemed on an instant, dry lips. He could feel himself getting hard under the belt of his jeans.

“Damn tease, aren’t ya?”

Ok, agh I'm addicted to write Simon so daddy coded, he's so delicious on every scenario I have of him. love my big, scary, tattoo man being weak for the tiniest skimpiest mini skirt (im also going to proofread this in the next couple day, sorry!)

[artemisgc]

Afternoon naps — Sleepy! Reader x Simon

Just thinking about how Simon was never the type of person who could take random naps through the day— until you.

You’d dragged him with you to take your daily nap in your soft, cozy, comfortable, pink, nest look like bed, changing into your, it was his but you claimed it has yours now, oversized shirt and some comfy panties. He’d just take his shirt and socks off because he just knew he was going to get a little hot when you’d wrap him up in your cozy pink blankies.

At first, he would fight you a little, stubborn man and his own little way to make you know he really wanted it but wasn’t sure, to then give up and let you prepare him for the nap. He’d tell himself he just wanted to for you to take your nap in peace and then when you’d fall asleep he could just get up do his own thing.

Of course that was not the case.

He’d end up taking one of the best naps he have ever taken in his life, and your would just look at him with a soft smile knowing that he needed it just like you did

It became a thing of you two, a routine where you’d just give him a kiss and a little tug on his shirt and he knew it was time to take a nap of the day.

just thinking about Simon being a big, scary, man all wrapped up and taking a nap in a pink bed. Agh I love him sm >< (I also wrote this during my lunch hour because I could not get the idea out of my head)

[artemisgc]

Indulge — Deer! reader x John Price

John Price never indulged in mundane things that could lead him into having weaknesses 

After years of being the captain of the 141, faced endless deaths of soldiers, piles of paperwork waiting for him after every mission, the uncertainty if there’s going to be a “next mission”, hell even a tomorrow seemed far from today, and the heavy burden of countless soldier deaths that weighed more and more with each passing day, he never seemed to cared about his own personal life besides work. The consequences of his job would haunt him until his death; he knew this since the day he accepted the responsibility of being a Captain of not of other but a special force. Death came along the job, and at the time it felt like it was calling him day and night waiting for him to make one wrong move.

After months of disagreements and abruptly ended phone calls with Laswell, John finally decided that retiring was the best option for his mental health, on his own words “his mental health was something that he couldn’t care less about” but Kate knew that John was on a tightrope that could cost his own life and the entire team, well-being in the years to come.

Needless to say, the first months felt wrong. Out of place in simple terms he couldn’t explain. The constant feeling that Laswell was going to reach out for his team and him to be shipped into a battlefield or a mission far away, the feeling didn’t go away immediately. He caught himself looking at this phone often, waiting for the call, but the phone never rang— or not with the call that he was expecting to get. 

The situation was infatuating. Each passing day he felt like there was no purpose to anything he did anymore. The routine, one that accommodated to his new lifestyle, did not feel right to him; wake up at 6 a.m. sharp, take a shower, brush his teeth, make a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper, sit in front of the tv waiting for the clock to strike 12 to start thinking about lunch, wash some laundry, clean the stove—

It was killing him alive. 

John never imagined himself longing to be a soldier, sensing the smell of gunpowder in his hands and clothes, and having to sleep standing in unknown places where his team and him would kill terrorist. He thought once he could finally live the normal civilian life he dreamed of time to time the memories of the battlefield would be shoved in the back of his consciousness, far life behind that didn’t belong to him anymore. 

So, he moved to the countryside to solve his overthinking problem.

Quiet. 

The previous owners of the farm warned him about some hybrids around the area, not all of them being dangerous but the caution was meant to be held by the surrounding residents. He remembered years ago, the government did many messed up experiment with humans and animals of all kinds, which the result being hybrid of part humans part animals. John never got to meet a hybrid face to face, not that he could really tell or paid any attention to it if he had in the past, but he knew they were all around the world— some of them embracing their wild side hidden in the shadows and nature protected by their respective government, some of them embracing their human part and deciding to live in peace around humankind. Price didn’t think much of it, the couple told him they had never seen a hybrid abrupt their property or other farmers around the area, so he let the information go away as soon as it came.

He never imagined himself as a farmer, having to take care of animals, which, as a joke on him, he just had to take care of animals who were so-called his team, keeping his little garden in a beautiful and healthy state with different vegetables, fruits, and plants. The surroundings of the farm were way quieter than his old, raggedy department in the urban area he had just moved to live. He swore the buzzing of the bees, and the movement of the far-away river were louder, and with time the feeling of adrenaline of a new mission went away. Jus for long enough, and he knew it. His routine now was filled with many task around his house and little farm through the day, almost living him with no time to think about his now old lifestyle.

After some months of being settled in his new home, he started to notice his garden less and less fruitful— something or someone was having a feast in his garden, leaving with a full stomach and coming for more the next days. He didn’t like it very much. While he knew many animals around the area were a must when living in the rural side, this was the first time since moving that he found himself having a problem with the unknown animal.

The rifle under his bed seemed to finally have a use after months of dusting.

He learned the animal schedule, but it seems he could never catch it on the act of stealing from his precious, now ruined into pieces, garden that he worked oh so hard on it. Every time he would wait on the porch of his house, waiting for the right time holding his rifle in his lap to shoot death the animal that was having the audacity to steal from John Price itself. His patient was running low with the animal each passing day, until one day he heard the careful but timid steps of something. He tried to approach as quickly and quietly as he could.

It was now or never to send to hell this animal he thought to himself.

Without second thought he pointed his rifle to the animal not expecting the sight in-front of him in a million years. A little doe hybrid standing in his garden with stuffed cheeks of his raspberries and hands standing still looking directly at him in utterly fear of the human in-front of her with big doe eyes basically pleading him to not kill her.  The gripped on his rifle eased, his eyes softened when he got to see your trembling legs barely making the work of keeping you standing- he swore that even the gentle breeze of the afternoon could knock you over. With one handle hand he let his rifle on the ground to then put both in the air to show you how he didn’t have any more weapons on him.

“Hey there, pretty little doe,” he tried to sound gentle but his raspy and rough voice didn’t help at all “I am not going to hurt you. I was just trying to see who’s being eating all my garden.” He tried to explain not knowing if you could understand anything he was saying or if you could speak at all.  He could see how your gaze wander from the bottom, from where his rifle that laid, to top where your gaze and his connected. 

You shocked your head in disagreement, a slow but confused movement. Your throat bob when you swallow the little raspberries on your mouth, while trying to hide your hands behind your back with the other portion of raspberries.

He chuckles to himself. So, you do understand what he is saying to some degree ”I know, little doe, I’m not going to use it if that’s what you are worried about,” his gazed dropped to the rifle, “you must be so hungry, am I right? You have eaten all my garden in the last months.” He could see you nodding in agreement, still a light tremble in your body and oh those big doe eyes not leaving him for a second.

John Price never indulged in mundane things that could lead him into having weaknesses, but just for now you may be the exception of his own rules.

Hi, guys, this is my first ever post in Tumblr for my little writings I have. Thank you so much if you got to the end of this little idea I've for a little while. Please follow me and feel free to leave any comments, questions, feedback in the comments or in my ask section! English is not my first language so I know mistakes have been made in this post. Enjoy!