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[queen-of-hellfire666]

Sleepy.

Steve x Bucky (x reader) | smut (18+)

summary: while you’re too sleepy to join in, Bucky and Steve get each other off before going to sleep

warnings: poly!reader/Steve/Bucky; hand job (Bucky/Steve); oral (Bucky/Steve); cum swallowing (Bucky/Steve); kissing (reader/Steve/Bucky); no gender identifiers or pronouns for reader; pet names for reader: sweets, love

word count: ~640

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[queen-of-hellfire666]

aahhh!!! Y’all are so talented and feed my obsession.. Ty!!!!

A Mike schmidt x reader where neither of them sleep but he comes home from work early one night and they both go to sleep together 😭💕

the sleep deprived power couple! ty for this!

You and Mike worked well together. You had similar habits and shared interests. You also both had a bad habit of being insomniacs. Whether it was due to your own problems or the fact that the only job he could get was on night shift. Your sleep schedules were opposite. So when you were at work, Mike was supposed to be sleeping. While Mike was at work, you were supposed to be sleeping. It never seemed to quite work out that way.

Mike always found himself staring at the ceiling with his hands folded on his stomach, not sure what to do with his hands. He would lay there like that for hours before giving in and getting up. Abby was at school and you were at work, so it’s not like you would ever notice he wasn’t sleeping.

For you, it was laying in the bed rolling around and missing the weight of Mike in the bed next to you. You tried cuddling his pillow to pretend it was him. It never quite worked out the way you wanted it to. So you would go to the living room and watch tv knowing Abby was knocked out cold and would never know the difference. You would always get back into bed about 30 minutes before Mike got home so he could tag you out for the day to collapse into bed and go to sleep himself.

Tonight was no different for you. It was 3:30 am on the alarm clock when you heard the front door open. You simply rolled over pulling the blanket up over your shoulders and closed your eyes lightly. You heard the creaking in the hallway and the door opened a few moments later. All you hear is the rustling of Mike shedding his coat, pants and shirt. Moments later you feel the weight shift on the bed and an arm slides under your pillow and head, then an arm snakes around your waist and you can feel the sleepiness coming.

Mikes warm, and you immediately feel cozy in his arms. You roll over to face him and you can just make out his eyes in the dark room, ever so dimly lit by the red light of the alarm clock.

“Hey there stranger” he says quietly.

You would laugh if it didn’t feel like the truth with how little of each other you saw recently.

“I missed you.” You say and bury your face in his chest.

He holds you close and wraps his arms tighter around you. He rubs a hand across your back slowly and buries his face in your hair inhaling deeply, “I missed you too. Haven’t been sleeping so good recently.”

Your voice is muffled slightly, “Me neither..”

When you pull your head back from his chest he takes the hand around your waist and tips your chin up connecting your lips softly. They just brush every so slightly against each other and you let out a happy sigh. You missed this so much.

Mike soon rolls onto his back and leaves his arm resting under your head. You move to rest your head on his chest and he lets his arm tighten around you holding you close to his side. That’s how you two sleep for most of the night. Pressed together like a puzzle that fits just perfectly.

Another sleepless night turns into the best sleep you’ve had in weeks and instead of tagging you out in the morning, you wake up together and start making breakfast for Abby to have before school.

[queen-of-hellfire666]

HAUNTING YOUR BED. mike schmidt

description. you, mike, and abby bake a chocolate cake and mike gets to taste it from your lips

→ pt 2 to nothing real

includes. GN! reader (i think), simp mike, abby !!!!, fluff galore, more pining, more domesticity, kissing, one boner mention

wc: 2.2k+

a/n: finally wrote a pt 2 to something who would've thought. title from haunt//bed

When Mike opens the door, he’s too tired to see straight. 

His shift ended earlier than he originally anticipated and since he’d clocked out, his body was begging for a shower and sleep. Maybe even just sleep, depending on how comforting his bed looked. If he could tolerate it, maybe even a few bites of a frozen meal. 

This is his original plan. 

But somehow due to the sleep induced haze, Mike had forgotten that you were babysitting Abby tonight. Not the sitter that had taken your place for a couple of nights, completely incomparable to you to the point where Mike didn’t even waste his time. Abby, though, spent a solid ten minutes each night complaining about the temporary sitter and another five minutes longing for you. 

(Mike felt the same but he would never let Abby know lest he wanted you to find out within 2 business days) 

So truthfully, whenever Mike opens the door, he’s too tired to see straight, and then as soon as he steps into his home, his vision clears up just enough to see you in the kitchen and his body introduces a burst of energy spurred on by your light squeal and suddenly he can tolerate an hour spent with you and Abby. 

“Shit!” your swear shocks Abby as much as it does Mike, the word foreign to his ears from your mouth but it sounds completely natural when you say it. It’s small, a tiny detail, but it reminds Mike that he doesn’t know you. At least, not the you that exists out of the four walls of the Schmidt household. 

He doesn’t know what you wear when you’re not babysitting, or what your nonprofessional personality is like. He’s sure you’re more or less the same, but for some reason, Mike wants to consider the opposite. 

Despite his rampant overthinking, Abby points at the jar sitting on the end table towards the entrance of the home. 

“Swear jar!” she alerts you. Or maybe it’s more of a command. Either way, you shamefully step away from the counter, wipe your hands on the apron you wear, and start to walk out of the kitchen. 

Mike guesses you’re heading for your purse, which he assumes is most likely sitting on the bench in front of the window where it usually is. Your plans are halted when you’re made aware of Mike’s presence, and when you say “oh”, Mike feels like he’s living his days over again. 

Just a few weeks ago, a similar circumstance, a similar feeling. 

Mike touches his hair at the memory, hoping it’s long enough to warrant another cut from you, but it’s the perfect length and he drops his hand. 

“Hey,” he greets you first, trying to remain calm and behave how he usually does. But suddenly he doesn’t know how to. Does he usually say ‘hey’? Or has he been saying ‘hi’ this entire time and didn’t realize it? Maybe even ‘hello’? 

You seem to care less about that than Mike does, greeting him back casually and then continuing your journey to your purse. Mike watches as you dig around in it for a second, pull a dollar out, and then slide it through the created slip in the top of the mason jar. 

Then, you reenter the kitchen and Mike suddenly realizes that time has been moving around him and he’s been stuck between it all, too enamored by you engaging in minute movements to do so himself. 

He throws his keys in the bowl and slips his shoes off. 

“What’s uh …” He steps into the kitchen, attempting to get a glimpse at what Abby is doing. She’s staring down at the counter, standing on a small step stool that makes her a lot taller than the counter instead of being a few inches off. “What’s going on in here?” 

Abby turns around, and Mike gets a glimpse of a big plastic bowl in front of her, along with the carton of eggs, the jug of vegetable oil, and a cake mix box. 

If he needs even more clarification, Abby happily declares: “We’re making a cake!” 

“But I dropped the shells into the bowl.” Which explains your out of character swearing. 

Initially, Mike’s upset. His logical (grumpy, in Abby’s words) side comes out and he’s thinking about how at least two eggs that could’ve been used for breakfast has gone down the drain and cake provides no nutritional value so not only is Abby going to be hungry, she’s also going to be bouncing off the walls from the sugar intake. 

His thoughts show on his face, just like they always do, and then Mike is looking over at you from where you’re grabbing the whisk out of the drawer and your head lifts. “But I dropped the shells into the bowl,” you add, initially oblivious to Mike’s inner turmoil. Your mishap explains your out of character swearing, and Mike would comment on it but instead he’s trying to make his face neutral. 

But you see it, the exhaustion and slight frustration and worry. 

You send him a smile that’s nothing more than one side of your lips pulling into your cheek, pronouncing the apple of it that presents a complimentary color to your skin tone. You look … upset? Are you upset? 

Mike can’t tell and this makes him feel worse. 

He decides that instead of pouting and grumbling about it, he unzips his jacket, throws it onto the kitchen table, rolls the sleeves of his thermal up, and then steps to join you two. 

“Let me help.” 

Mike ends up wearing a pink apron that he knows for sure does not belong to the Schmidt household. At least, it didn’t whenever he left for work. 

Mike attempts to hide his surprise whenever Abby excitedly tells him that you brought the apron for him. His eyebrows lift, he looks over at you, and you’re suddenly really focused on the written instructions on the back of the cake box even though they really are incredibly simple. 

“Really? She did?” 

Abby hums and Mike hopes you’ll look over at him, but you don’t, instead gnawing on your bottom lip and squinting as you concentrate even harder. 

“Mm. It’s cute. I like it.” And that’s when you lift your eyes, sending them over to Mike to give him a quick once over. 

“It suits you,” you compliment, just before putting the box down and grabbing the cake pan. 

Some time has passed. The cake has been baked, decorated (white frosting with pink, green, and yellow swirls from Abby), and eaten with slightly freezer burnt ice cream. Abby has pouted when Mike declared one giant slice was enough for her. 

The shower has turned on and off, Abby has run into the living room to give you a hug and say goodnight, and now comes the part that Mike hates the most. 

He’s still tired, maybe minutely more energetic from the sugary cake, but his body is still begging for a good rest. Yet, he doesn’t want you to leave. 

You start to grab your things, jacket pulled back on, purse thrown over your shoulder. Just before you can slip your shoes on, Mike stands from his spot on the recliner. 

“Do you want another slice?” He gestures lamely at the cake on the kitchen table. “We can’t eat this all on our own and I refuse to let Abby try.” 

A small laugh from you as you shake your head. “No, it’s okay. Abby should be able to enjoy the fruits of her labor.” 

“She’ll enjoy it too much until she has a cavity and I have a dentist bill.” A pause where your eyes shift over to the cake, then back to Mike. 

“I really don’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

“If that’s what you’re worried about then you’ve got it all wrong.” Mike replies as he walks to the cabinets, pulling out two small plates and then two forks right beneath it. He slices the cake, the pieces almost proportionate but you seem to have gotten just a bit more. 

Maybe it’ll take you longer to eat and Mike will be in your presence for just a bit more. 

It’s silent for just a few moments before you’re talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. 

Raves about the cake the three of you made turns into reminiscing about the triple chocolate cake they used to serve at Sparky’s before they underwent new management. The talk of new management turns into you ranting to Mike about the manager at your day job and Mike listens intensely, thrilled to have a new piece of information to add to the puzzle of your life. When you apologize, a little shy and maybe even embarrassed, Mike shakes it off instantly. 

“Don’t apologize for speaking your mind,” he tells you. You joke about the line being poetic and Mike finds himself revealing that he used to write teenage angst poetry in his bedroom at night. When you laugh, it’s not as if you’re belittling him, it’s different. Light, airy, filled with enthusiastic shock and a little bit of wonder. 

It makes him laugh, too, and for a moment he forgets that his sister is sleeping just down the hall. 

You both seem to remember at the same time, laughter tapering off into small intakes of air and then fizzling off completely in the vibrant night air. 

He glances at the clock on the wall. 

10:47. 

“It’s getting late,” Mike thinks out loud. 

When he turns back to you, you look a little sadder. “I guess I should get going then, yeah?” 

Shit. Mike wants the opposite. He wants you to stay over for the night. He’ll take the couch if it means you’ll take his bed. He wonders if the small space would smell like you afterwards. He pictures you sleeping in his clothes, forced to wear them instead of the jeans and sweater you wear now. 

He’s thinking too far ahead. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

You stand anyway, taking a final bite of your cake before you set the fork down. There’s still a tiny piece left, waiting for you, just as Mike is. 

He stands too. 

“No, it’s okay. You have work in the morning and I shouldn’t be on the road this late anyway.” Your jacket is zipped up, your purse is back over your shoulders. 

Mike says your name, firm despite the low volume. It’s vulnerable, a plea almost. It stops you, makes you look at him with wide and wondering eyes. 

It’s on him now. He’s the one who has to speak. 

He takes a breath. He licks his lips. 

“I would like it if you stayed. Honest.” 

His admission has weight to it. The words are that of a concerned friend, but the way his hands nervously play with his jeans and the way his eyes bounce around the room with your frame as a continuous anchor says much more than the eight words could have. 

Your voice just barely shakes when you speak. “Tell me I’m reading this wrong.” 

He shakes his head. “You’re not.” 

In the nervous energy that rakes through Mike’s body, it’s unclear to him who moves first. All he knows is one moment he’s staring into your eyes, and then the next his lips are against yours. 

The kiss is soft, nothing more than the lengthened press of lips against lips. His hand cradles the side of your face, yours bunches the fabric of his thermal around his bicep. And while it might be nothing objectively, it’s so much to Mike. For him to finally feel your lips against his, rougher than he imagined but even that means something to him. 

It’s euphoric. 

Your lips pull back from each other, but neither of you move. So, Mike is clear this time whenever he initiates, giving you one more safe kiss before he starts moving his lips against yours. Still, it’s polite, just like you deserve. 

His free hand presses into your middle back, pulling your chest into his. He tilts his head just a little for comfort. He’s holding back. 

You, on the other hand, aren’t. 

You pull Mike impossibly closer to you by his shirt, your other hand digging into the short hair at the back of Mike’s head. You turn the kiss into one of more desperation, parting your lips to introduce open mouthed kisses instead, slipping your tongue against his. 

Mike is trying to keep his composure as he reciprocates. He’s trying to muffle his little sounds before they even come out, push them down his throat. But they climb up anyway, jumping from his mouth to yours with the access. 

He can’t control himself whenever your body is pressed against his. He can’t hold back when he tastes the chocolate cake on the tip of your tongue and the mint leftover from the gum you’d been chewing earlier in the night. He presses his hips against yours, shamelessly displaying the tent that’s growing. He runs his hands along your sides and back and hips, feeling every curve he has analyzed with only his eyes from afar. You’re softer up close and it makes Mike want to feel you as you are, devoid of any clothing to cover you. He hopes he’ll get his wish soon. 

You pull away and Mike has to restrain himself from following your lips. 

“If I stay over,” his ears instantly perk up. “Can I wear your plaid pajama pants?” 

The grin he gives you is genuine. It hurts his cheeks and heals his soul. 

“Of course.”

[queen-of-hellfire666]

mike having a wet dream next to you.

he’d drifted away in the night, just enough space between you two for you not to be able to feel him. still, you hear his sounds as clear as day.

at first, you think it’s a nightmare. the soft moans, whines bled into them to the point where they’re almost indistinguishable. you turn to face him, pout on your lips, your eyes still heavy from the slumber you’d accidentally awoken from.

for a second, you try to decide between waking him up or letting him be. but in your mind, it’s a nightmare, and you know how vivid mikes dreams can be.

you turn around, lifting a hand to push mikes curls back, the easiest way to wake him without startling him. but then he moans out your name, just a tiny grumble but it’s clear, every syllable meeting your ears.

and that’s when you realize it’s a wet dream instead. you don’t know if you’d been oblivious to his gyrating hips, blinded by your worries, but with your newly discovered information it’s practically all you notice. hips bucking at air, and when you lift the blanket, positioning your body to let the streetlight shine on mikes bottom half, you see a tent formed in his basketball shorts.

he stirs for a second, and you stiffen, afraid you’d awakened him with your movement. but he simply rolls to his back, groaning out your name with the movement. his arm throws above his heads the other slung across his torso, and his shirt has lifted at this point, giving you a peek at his v-line.

the sound he makes sounds pathetic, it makes you pity him, especially whenever his back arches with it. you pout, thinking about how he has resorted to dreaming about you, when the real thing is right next to him. your pity only multiplies whenever he winces, a cracked “ah” slipping past his lips.

he’d talked in his sleep many times before, simple sentences that were more often than not jumbles of words that made absolutely no sense. sometimes, you tried to decipher them in the morning for fun, putting together your gathered words from mike with his disjointed memory of his dreams.

but now, his words make perfect sense. a plea, familiar to your ears but in this context that make your stomach stir.

“baby, please.”

[queen-of-hellfire666]

Sweetest of all time {Mike x reader}

Mike Schmitt coming home from a long nights work to find you alseep with Abby on the couch with cartoons playing. He smiles watching the two of you, he loves you dearly but couldn’t tell you that face to face. Abby seemed truly happy to be babysat by you so why would he make it awkward. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over the both of you before heading off to get a shower and sleeping.

Soon he smelt the smell of pancakes and orange juice, Abby’s laugh now filling his ears. He hops up out of bed perking out from the hall to see you tickling Abby and giving her breakfast. “Oh Hi Mike. Did we wake you?” Your soft, warm voice hits his ears and he can swear he turns red. “I-oh no. I’ve been up. Hi abs.” He ruffles her hair. “Hi Mike. You have to have some pancakes their like to die for!” You laugh as she makes explosion noises. “They aren’t that good but they are okay.” Your eyes meets his. “Want a plate?”

“Sure.” He looked down, grabbing a Dr. Pepper from the fridge. “Here you go.” You sat the plate down with a smile. Again, the smiling at him is making him go crazy. “You don’t Abby?” You ask and she responded with a nod. “Okay, let me wash your plate and you get ready for school.” She smiles brightly at you and hops down, going to get dressed.

“How do you get her to listen to you like that.” He sighs. “Well Mike, you gotta be gentle.” He noticed your voice going into a hushed tone. “Also listen. Not just with your ears but with eyes, your heart. She’s a sensitive girl and she loves you very much.” He softly sighed. “You have a good way with her.” You sat down next to him after drying off your hands. “She spends more time with me, That’s why.”

He nodded softly, eating his new pancakes you put on his plate “how much do I owe you?” He asked with a full mouth. “Absolutely none. You would do the same for me if I needed it. So none.” He looked up from his plate. “Are you sure..?” You nodded. “Yes.” Abby ran out. “Ready!” Mike sighed. “I’ll take her, don’t worry about it. Also Abby wants more pasta for dinner so, goodmorning. I’ll see you the same time tonight and I’ll make her dinner.” He nodded. “Thank you y/n.” You just have one last smile before getting your keys and taking Abby’s hand. “Bye AB’s love you.” Mike called. “Love you too Mike!” She laughed as you tickled her and headed out the door.

____

Very short but I’m dipping my toe in fnaf.

[queen-of-hellfire666]

the fnaf movie was silly

[queen-of-hellfire666]

2.09

This day 39 years ago at Byers house

🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪  

[queen-of-hellfire666]

PEDRO PASCAL getting interviewed for The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent by Variety at SXSW 2022

[queen-of-hellfire666]

back with more judgment day tweets did you miss me be honest

[queen-of-hellfire666]

RED DEAD REDEMPTION II, [October 26, 2018] 5 Years Anniversary

"In the end, Micah... despite my best efforts to the contrary... it turns out I've won."

[queen-of-hellfire666]

The judgment day tweets that r so real and true

I just be ballin tbh cringe is dead if u don’t think too hard on it .. plus I think we need to bring incorrect tweets back but if this does a bit bad I’ll prolly kms

[queen-of-hellfire666]

finn and damians reaction after dom said that is hilarious 😭😭

[queen-of-hellfire666]

AHHHH!!! I love it!!! I love you!! Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️

HI!!! Hi hi! I must say! Big fan, literally found your account the other day and have been reading like crazy. I was wondering if I could request a soft Damian like maybe waking up with him or cuddling with him. Just anything fluffy and sweet to do with him. Thank you so much!!

thank you so much for the support!🫶🏻

damian priest x reader

soft for you

you were the only one to 100% know damian. he had this personality with other people where he would show his hard look and he would never show his feelings but with you, he was a completely different person.

making you happy was his priority in life. he wanted to protect you from the bad things of the world, he wanted to show you what real love felt like, he was the one you always went when you had problems, even way before you started dating.

he took things slowly with you. he wanted you to feel special and he didn’t want to screw it all up. he didn’t care if it would take months to win your heart, he wanted everything to be perfect just for you.

what people didn’t know was that damian was probably the most clingy and cuddly person ever. every morning you would wake up in his arms and he would never leave you - not even if you had to pee.

but there were specific mornings where for no reason he wanted to leave the bed. and this morning was one of those.

you slowly opened your eyes, expecting the sun to lighting up the room, instead you were met with a dark atmosphere. you thought that maybe it was still nighttime but when you saw the alarm signing that it was actually 8.30 am you realised that it was a really sad and grey day.

you loved days like that. clouds, soft rain hitting your windows, a few thunders in background. you just loved it and you couldn’t help but relax a little more into damian’s arms.

“good morning…” he whispered into your neck. he slowly opened his eyes and when he realised it was raining, he couldn’t help the smile forming on his face.

“what’s that smile mr priest?” you teased him.

“it’s raining…” he pointed out.

“yes, i see that” you whispered back.

“that means we’re not leaving this bed…we’re gonna stay here and sleep a few more hours, then you’ll stay here while i make some lunch and for last we’re gonna eat a lot of delicious food while watching some movies…and i won’t take a no, this is gonna be our day” he said moving a little so he could face you. his eyes showing you how much he cared for you and how bad he wanted this day to go the way he planned.

“that sounds perfect…” you smiled.

your hair all over your face, you probably looked the worst but damian’s eyes were on your face, admiring how pretty you were in the morning.

“you’re so beautiful amor” he whispered, leaning towards you and kissing your head. he was a softy, especially in the morning.

“i look a mess” you joked “no one looks pretty in the morning”

“you do…” he whispered and moved to kiss your lips softly. his hand moving to your cheek and his thumb gently caressing your face.

you melted every single time he kissed you.

“i wanna feel you closer…” he whispered. there was nothing sexual - you exactly knew what he meant. feeling your skin on his was one of the ways he showed you how much he loved you.

he laid on the bed, helping you over his naked chest. his hands went to move your t-shirt up, not to leave you naked, just to show a little bit of skin so you could lay on top of him. your legs between his bigger ones and his hands went to softly stroke your bare back.

“go back to sleep hermosa, i’ll be here when you wake up” he whispered when he saw you slowly closing your eyes.

damian might have been a scary for some people but you knew he had a soft spot for you and you only.

[queen-of-hellfire666]

shes so fine for no reason, i wish she would just break me in half or step on me idk

[queen-of-hellfire666]

me forcing myself to do things that make me feel better

[queen-of-hellfire666]

My online character with Arthur Morgan.

[queen-of-hellfire666]