this is my formal request to be your moot. i bring with me a dowry.
c!techno chuffing around you and that's how you figure out he's interested in you. if you ask him about it, he obviously declines without a doubt, but he still does it. i know chuffing is traditionally a feline trait, but consider, if you will, a hulking brute piglin man giving little chuffs as you follow him around, trying to annoy him with your presence.
Damn gonna have to get my cows and goats ready if we are doing dowry to be moots.
Techno was a hard cookie to crumble, only having the barest bit of respect for you after you helped bring Steve back one day when the usually lazy bear had wandered off. Having to repeat said act many times over, always greeting him the same, laughing and even joking that next time you will simply keep the polar bear and techno can come round to visit him, seeing a the bear kept coming to your home, eventually building a somewhat stable friendship with the hybrid.
Only that was months ago, you were no longer almost friends but more close friends, not quite whatever was between him and Phil but there were moments when you were with him that he would huff or make this little noise to you when you handed him items or sat next to him reading.
It was Phil that pointed it out one day, you had been over and the snow picked up to the point of making travel impossible, the avian chuckling as he watched techno chuff and rumble at you in his home. Puling you aside and explaining with laughter caught in his chest, snickering at how you went wide eyed, puttering off to put the information to the test as Phil slipped from the house easily crossing the bridge to his home.
And sure enough the moment the hulking piglin hybrid laid eyes on you, a soft chuff was released, and when you asked him why he did it, posed the question of if he liked you, drawing the words out like some teenager teasing their crush or best friend, he was quick to deny the accusation, tail and ears flicking with his every word.
If his skin wasn't pink you felt as if he would have been flushed a deep red.
And oh how you enjoyed the rest of your night, following the piglin around his home, offering to help and always chattering to him, cooing and sighing at him as he worked. Even settling in close to him as you read, humming softly till he started again, little trains of 'chuff chuff chuff' when he though you weren't paying attention.
Sure he had denied the interest in you with words, but the little hybrid traits you could now understand told a very very different story, but you can wait for him to be brave if it means enjoying theses moments.
A piece for my return back, a little bit of something with the crunchy man that I have missed writing.
It's just something angsty and wholly for myself, and I am warning you now that there are Yandere themes.
Let's Go!
He promised that you were worth all he owned and all he could come to own, that you were everything that he wanted and there would be nothing that could change that, not the shadows of his obsession that still hung around in the night when he thought you slept or the way his fingers dug into your skin as he clung to your arms pleading and begging with the pinching of his ragged fingernails as you tried to drag your self away from his grasp. Smiling with nothing reaching your eyes as you turn away, ignoring the feeling of something almost, so close to actual action, grasping your hoodie as you pass that final hurdle and step onto the bus that would give you freedom.
The bus that should have spelt the start of your new life, of all the chances you would have to grow and live without him.
And yet here you are in a new home, a new bed to enjoy quiet nights, new faces and new places to waste away your time between work and all the other things you had not done alone in so long that it felt like leaving your parents home all over again, like calling the doctor at eighteen and having to be the adult you were growing into, even with all the world between you he was still carved into your bones. It had been weeks since you left, you had hoped to let your past fade, drown out the sound of your old phone ringing, but you couldn't bring yourself to sell.
The new one was always buzzing with new friends, your hands always fluttering over it with the idea to turn it off, to silence the messages, the calls, the pictures, little snippets of ideas and plans, all rambling and messy in the way they run in on each other, not a single one like the others that follow, none playing into anything but a single-minded fear of the growing need to go home.
To go back to not only your family but to him, to the contact that had been left forgotten on the old phone, the person you had let weave themselves into your life, he was so deeply carved into you, had made himself a place you called home, dug his fingers in and smiled as he consumed so much of you, that not even with what should have been freedom, what you had spent nights pushing his hands away for, what you had fought against in a battle of voices in your mind one till sounded so much like him that it was hard to untangle the need and the fear.
But all it would take was one night, one moment of all-consuming fear, when someone else got too close too entwined and wanted, no needed more from you, had woven you into all their small cracks and leaks that you crumbled, gave in and did something you could never take back, letting the other shatter as you told them you were taken, unavailable and unreachable in the way they had been hoping and when they doubted, yelled, and screamed about all they had done for you, that you were lying and nothing more than a coward.
You had crumpled, pulling out the old phone, the weighted thing that held all you ran from, all the nights in bed that smelt of Redbull and sweat, a home filled with another's voice and the phantom feelings of arms wrapped around your waist as they sang, a glorified paperweight to some that now knew you but at that moment it was nothing but a red tinted lifeline, a pen that would sign away all the freedoms you had come to have.
It took three rings for him to pick up, three small trills and then breathlessly he called for you, a sighed 'darling~' your only warning before the gates of his need began to spill forth, weeks and weeks of ignorance and fury becoming a mess of stinging praise, and soft coos of demands, asking where you were and why you hadn't come back to him yet, you were his everything after all.
And your answer is a saviour and damnation is a single breath, 'On my way home' and the rattle in his exhale is enough to send chills like walking in the winter rains down your spine, but the real and true ending note is the click of the call ending and arms so long and cold finding their way back around your waist, as if you hadn't run away, hadn't chased freedom from him like a feral dog.
His embrace felt the same, fingers so cold at the tips as they dig in between your own, palms warm and somehow still slightly damp as if he was sweating and nervous as if he wasn't drapped over you, consuming in a way only he could be, brown curls at the edge of your vision as you stare down the deflated person who had tried and failed to call your bluff, their back turned and a stray rock kicked as they leave you with him.
"Did you enjoy your holiday? Enjoy the little bit of fresh air? But I think it is time to come home, time to come back to bed and enjoy just how good it will be to be back with me. Back where you belong, after all, I know just how you get when you're all alone, now let's go get your things, it's home time..."
Maybe you should have never left, never strayed from him, or maybe just maybe you should have never answered that call all those years ago, a wrong number and nothing more, but no you had to save the number, answer every call thereafter and now here you are, right back where you had started. Too cold arms wrapped around your waist, the contact for him still lit up on the call-ended screen, a little nickname you could never come to change, it was bitter even in the little blocky letters of the phone screen.
catboy simpbur bringing you dead flowers leaves, birds, etc. to show how much he loves you. will cry if you wont take his gift :(
you wake up at 3AM to see him holding a wilted dandelion in his mouth with dilated pupils
You know what? He would, he would.
He was...cute? You guess with how he would rumble and purr at the slightest bit of praise and affection, a sweetheart with very territorial habits, the number of bites, scratches of his name and hissing you put up with was a testament to that but above all else, he was a gift-giver, or well when the cat part of Simpbur brain took over he was very eager to give gifts.
From flowers, leaves, odd socks, and even once a half-dead mouse, there were days where you would feel him watching you, waiting for you to lay down or for you to be relaxed so he could pad over and drop something in your lap, looming over you till you accept it, letting out a cute chirp before purring and clambering onto your lap, cuddling up to you and rumbling with enjoyment, even if you were grimacing from the slightly soggy sock he had brought you.
The smell gave away exactly why it was soggy in the first place.
Bless his cotton socks but some of the gifts were given at odd times of the night, waking up to him whining and huffing at you with a dead flower in his mouth, you had slept through his attempts to give his gift and now he was upset, tail flicking behind him as he whined. Not even putting a bell on him would help you be awake for these early morning gifts, but there would always be a way to make up for it, to have him purring and chirping in his sleep.
Taking the wilted flower from him and mumbling a thank you, placing it on the bedside table, with a sluggish lifting of the sheets he was scrabbling to join you, still slightly upset you had slept through his attempts to give you a gift, only waking to hear him whine, but that could be forgiven as you had let him in your bed.
Fingers scratching against the base of his tail and sluggishly combing through the mess of curls that surround his ears, slowly drifting off to the feeling of him pressed close and purring at your touch, uncaring for how he twitches or shuffles his way between your legs as you sleep, nuzzling and purring even when sleep takes him, knowing that you had his present and even though he cried you let him into your bed, let him close, and even gave him pets.
It takes him twelve minutes to respond, twelve minutes of that little text bubble appearing and disappearing, never staying or becoming the message he was planning out, but never had he taken this long, always prompt and eager with his responses, living up to the nickname you have him saved in your phone under, a simp if you have ever seen one but right now he was taking his time, dragging it out and maybe, just maybe making you worried.
And then the ping sounded, twelve minutes of waiting and worrying over nothing and now you would get your answer and be able to go about your day just like you had been for the past week.
'No'
Two letters after twelve minutes, one short word of denial and then silence, nothing more, no follow-up texts, none of the rambling or mixed signals about whether he actually meant it or not, just that one word and then silence. He didn't respond to the message you send back, didn't pick up when you called, ignored every chance you took to try and get him to explain to take back the 'no' and to change his mind, sure you had ignored him and done nothing to reach out to him in a few days but that couldn't be why.
Could it?
The weekend passes slowly after that, no more messages, to pings on your socials, nothing but the same things that always filtered through on a weekend. What had you done to get this response, racking your brain and trying your best to think, sure you ignored him but you always did that, hell this stint wasn't even the longest you had ignored him, but maybe this time was the one that tipped the scales?
It took him twelve minutes to tell you no, and come Monday in your first class, not a quarter way into the class when the free study begins and you turn to his spot at the back of the class he is gone, already at another desk with another person, wringing his hands and pushing the mess of curls out of his face just like he had when you first met him, all awkward energy and stumbling charm.
Wait, stumbling charm? No, he was awkward and insecure, not charming, never charming, so why was it now that he was across the class from you, working with another that you could almost see the sliver under all the grime and filth you knew him for.
Its ten minutes into lunch when he approaches you, a bundle of cloth in his hands that when you reach for it your mind freezes, it was a hoodie that went missing, something you knew he had and chose to ignore, something you had seen him defile and stain with more drool and cum than you could have ever thought one person able to make. Hell, the week it had gone missing you were over at his, working on a project with his roommate and had caught him with it.
You still remember the day, having accidentally opened his door, catching him with his face buried in the hood, one hand clutched to the fabric as the other worked himself to completion, you never brought it up with him, but it was the day you decided to give him more of your time.
But ten minutes into lunch there he stood, hoodie in hand, scratching the back of his neck as he handed it over, grimacing just like you had that first time he asked to buy you lunch, but the real kick was how the hoodie smelt, it was plain, like the soap you buy for a dollar from the laundry mat, like forgotten clothes you take and bulk wash before donating, it smelt like goodbye.
The sound of your friends laughing, bumping your shoulder and snickering about being in trouble with your simp ringing in your ears, even as you look down at the now pristine hoodie it still feels unreal, as if you were dreaming and that text never came, you never watched him walk away off to a table of three people, a mixed group and the new object of his affections clear as day, some random bitch you think streamed or something but all that your mind could catch was that he had walked away.
It was five minutes into a party you knew he would never attend had you not been there for you to look at the space along the back wall that he normally occupied, always there, always waiting for you to lose interest in the loud music and cheap booze, a staple of any party was stealing away with him and giving him just enough to keep him around.
But he's not there, the wall is instead taken by some couple making out, using the free wall to the most, breaking in the party with a make-out session and you were stuck watching, mind muttering that they are in his spot, that they need to leave cause he will be here and he will want to lean there, he always dose.
Then again he always said yes to you.
It was five minutes into the party and you were thinking about leaving, waiting for an uber and going home, but something kept you, rooted you in place and had you check every door and greeting for him. It was five minutes and he wasn't there, he wasn't leaning against the wall or awkwardly shuffling into the house, he wasn't here.
The moment you leave, waiting for the uber, numb to the fact that he had left you, turned his attention onto another, idle through the ride most certainly not scrolling through the long messages he once used to send you, thinking about how it took him a few days to drop you and only twelve minutes to tell you no. At home it's easy to strip down and tug on the hoodie he returned to you, the smell of generic laundry detergent odd where it should smell like shitty Chinese and axe body spray, a disgusting combination but it was how he smelled, or how you remembered him smelling.
It's incredibly easy to drift off into the obsessive rambling he once left you, it's toxic and foul, switching between begging for your love and rambling degenerate filth about his sexual needs for your touch, but nothing could stop you from looking at that time gap between your last message and his denial, such a small thing but it has left you spiralling.
Twelve minutes to tell you no.
Ten minutes to hand back something he had defiled and purified on the same day.
Five minutes for you to drown in the obsession he had once held and show for you.
But it will all be okay, you'll take some time, calm down and he'll be back, he can't have left you, no this is just a phase, he will be back, stealing your hoodies and awkwardly buying you lunch, filling your DM's and texts with rambling filth and obsession, looming behind you and acting like he should.
It will be okay, it will all go back to how it was.
Thoughts I had while bed-bound today: simpbur is already trying to do everything he can for the person he loves, but if that person had chronic pain? Jesus that man practically jumps at any chance he has to assist you and make accommodations. Having a hard time walking? He's the first person to push your wheelchair. Need to lay down or stay in bed? He'll lie down next to you and turn on Netflix or read to you. He feels more than awful to know you're in so much pain, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love being the your "knight in shining armor". Maybe that would be how he'd get closer to reader in the first place, always being the friend that would slow down for them or carry something they couldn't. It's such a simple thing but it makes such a huge difference. Idk, it's just a nice thought lol - chronic pain may stop me from a lot of things but simping is not one of them
I am so sorry this took so long to get out, I have been digging through my drafts and I knew I needed to get this out for you.
He would have given you the stars the moment you asked, and the moment he knew about the reason you could barely walk somedays, why somedays even the slightest inclines were the worst of your nightmares and stairs straight up made you want to cry? He was there, hands hovering till you let him help, trying not to smother or overrule, but god did he just yearn to carry you or help you more then he was.
His home used to be near inaccessible to you, so who was he to not move to a ground floor, he wanted you to be with him and that meant you had to be able to get to him, sure he was merely a close acquaintance maybe even a friend to you right now but he would give up anything to be the one you knew you could depend on. Be the person you knew would slow down, take your bags, swallow the unease he had about talking with others to raise his voice and be a little bit of a white knight as to have you needs heard, sure he already had the title simp attached to his name, so this would hardly be any addition.
And mayybe he did get you round to his, making his couch something of a soft den for those days you couldn't get out of bed or move too much, making his living room the cleanest and most inviting area so that you could relax and pass the cresting pain with him doing uni work and you doing anything you liked.
Of course his motives may not be wholly pure but the actual care behind them is unending, sure he wants you to be his, to love him like he loves you, to make you yearn for him the way he has for these months, but for that to happen he wants you happy and enjoying his presence and care, so for you he will learn to help, to care and understand what you need to feel better day to day, to help you let him in.
it's currently snowing where i am at, so i was thinking. maybe a relationship between reader and technoblade, but it's a recently made relationship. your first night spend with him in his home is cold because you're not used to the snowy biome, so he warms reader up. - 🍼
Ahhh how sweet.
You haven't meant to be here this late, were more than willing to make the trek back to your home but looking out one of the small windows of Techno's cabin changes that will. It was so white, almost unable to see a blizzard without the winds to match, there was no way you would be able to make it even halfway to the nether portal before you either froze or got lost.
But ever the silent care of your partner, techno is quiet as he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you close to his chest as he rumbles a 'Stay...' sleep dripping into his words as he leans down. Head resting beside your own as he sighs into the lesser warmth your body holds, knowing that you will be safer, warmer and much healthier if you stay with him tonight.
Sure it had only been a little over a month of being with the piglin but you had yet to stay the night with him, what if he snored? Tossed in his sleep? Or had an episode with his voices? Endless questions and endless possibilities, all fall away as he hums pulling you away from the window and up into his cabin, pulling some of his spare clothes from a chest and offering you his bed.
"I'll leave you to change Darlin' but you're not heading home, it's a storm out and you will get lost or worse so, please... Just stay the night, for my peace of mind of nothing else, I'll be downstairs if you need me. Got some stuff to sort out before bed."
And like that he was gone, leaving you in a bed covered in furs and quilts, thinking that they would keep the chill of the snow at bay. Yet not even an hour later you're stumbling down to him, teeth chattering and fingers pale, voice barely coming out as you whine to him about the cold, and in return, he gives you a strange little smile.
The lifting of his cloak and an offer, silent but clear, come close and enjoy his warmth.
i'm a simple person. i am currently thinking about getting into bed with mommy dom c!eret and wriggling my way into her arms, putting my face in her boobs, and she just lifts my face up to cover it in kisses and tells me how good of a boy i am, and i fall asleep in her arms nice and warm. (no actual porn for this one lol, just touch starved rn)
-🐉
For you 🐉, anything.
It had been a long day, sure you weren't a royal or a high ranking noble but it had still been a long day, everyone seemed to need something, your clothes felt fuzzy and wrong, the blankets of your room the wring kind of soft, and the dinner the castle had served was just shy of wrong in your mouth, today had been overwhelming, draining, and busy, it was bordering on too much, the strain in your muscles no longer the pleasant kind of burning but twinging and annoying.
But at the least, you had your dear king, your mommy, your loving partner and understanding bed mate that would not look at you twice as you stripped down and joined them in their bed, melting into their open arms and wriggling closer till you were pressed face-first into their chest, sighing and wrapping your arms around them, soaking in the comfort and safety that filled the small amount of space between the two of you.
Long gentle fingers cupping your jaw as they tilt your face up, soft kisses tracing the shape of your brow and cheeks soft little shows of care and love pressed to every empty spot on your face. a little physical affection as they watched your tired eyes droop to the sound of their voice.
"That's my sweet boy, so tired, but so loved, so good for me, but sleep, mommy will keep you warm and safe, be right here when you wake to give you all their love once again..."
Any more words of assurance drift off as you do, the mixed comfort of soft sheets and the warmth of Eret pulling you close had you drifting to sleep long before they could finish their cooing praise.
simpbur’s been really stressed recently to the point where he’s had multiple restless nights to complete put aside assignments, slurping down on coffee, not a moment of rest.
reader ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ notices this, decides to pull him away from his work for a bit, sits him on the couch and rests his head on reader’s thighs.
and he continuously goes on about how he has to do work- but he just ends up falling asleep, curled up next to the reader as they ramble and ramble on, giving him soft praises and combing their fingers through simpbur’s hair.
lad deserves it
-can i be 🥮 anon?
Of course! Welcome 🥮 anon!
Watching him burn out almost made you feel the same, it was the last four days of just restless pacing and muttering as he did the work he had put off in favour of doing something? You were not quite sure what he had been doing but it was time-consuming and now he was like this. So seeing him once again in the kitchen hands pressed to the benchtop as he waits for the kettle to hiss in completion, you had had enough, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him away from the bench.
Ignoring the stutters and sleep depraved slurs of your name as you do.
Making him rest on the couch, already having your phone in hand as you had pushed the stressed lanky mess of a man down onto the couch, his head resting on your thighs as you tangled a hand in his hair. Each attempt at getting up met with a soft hiss through your teeth as pushed him back down into the slightly squishy couch cushions.
"The more you try to get up and go run yourself into the ground the longer I will keep you here. You're burning up and I don't want to see what happens when your threadbare drive fades and it is just too much, so please for me, stay here and relax for just a little bit. For me?"
the tired mutter of okay is all you need before your ranging one of your hands in the mess of curls that usually flopped over half his face, brushing your fingers through them and enjoying how soft they were despite the slightly oily feel to them. It's a small mental note as you do that you need to coax him into the shower at some point, get him to clean up physically and then maybe his room but for now getting him to sit down with you and relax just a little was good enough.
Even with the soft touch, you can feel as Simpbur stares up at you, watching you as you read over something on your phone, so you ramble it back at him, listing off the strange little rabbit hole you had found yourself going down. Eventually, as his eye starts to slip closed your rambling turns softer, knowing that he is only half listening as he starts to drift off, muddled words full of praise only half reaching his ears.
"You work so hard and that's... Don't need to work this much, am always around to help... Such a sweet boy when you put your mind to it, and... Maybe when this is over I'll take you out, show you how hard you have been wor..."
