#robert sheehan fanfic

[super-unpredictable98]

The Eighth Child (~TUA AU~) - Season 4

Chapter 1: Your Dreams Came True, Now What?

Warning: Strong language, guns

a/n: Hello everyone! I really missed The Eighth Child and I hope you all have as well. We can all agree this season was pure bullshit, so here I am with a very short series of chapters to fix it. Welcome to the final show, hope you all like it <3 also thank you so much @jozstankovich for supporting me and being my guinea pig beta reader

(The Eighth Child Masterlist)

"Of course we're coming, Dieguito!" Victoria said on the phone while trying to tame Fortune's big curly mane. "Tunnie is very excited to play with Gracie and the twins. Alright, see you later!"

"Lunch is ready," Klaus called from the kitchen. He wore a frilly apron on top of his completely normal and absolutely not flamboyant outfit. "No no no! Fortune, don't run, we don't wanna get hurt, right?"

"Right, a safe girl is a happy girl!" She repeated what her father always said.

Something about the pandemic mixed with Fortune growing into her own person, realizing Victoria was no longer indestructible, and Klaus staying fully sober, made him into a complete nut job. He was scared of absolutely anything and everything that could harm him and his family. The idea of dying and not being there to raise his kids was too much for him to even think about.

"You too, Liebling, you're in no condition to run," he caressed her baby bump.

Victoria and Klaus started off their married life as happy as can be, but the real world was right ahead and with his new sobriety and paranoia, it became harder and harder for her to... how should one put it... feel attracted to him.

Klaus was a completely changed man, his wife didn't necessarily like that. But alas, every once in a while, they still had some romance and of course she got pregnant by chance one of those times.

"I'm not sick, Klausie. Don't you remember when I was pregnant with Fortune and we would party all night in the clubs near campus? I was fine and so is she."

"I know, I know, but we were totally irresponsible! The world was different too, no COVID for starters..." He shivered before taking a bite of his risotto.

Victoria sighed, looking at the several cardboard boxes surrounding them. Right after marrying, she used her saved money to rent the apartment she used to rent back in her college days with Klaus, she loved that place and it was special to begin their new lives there.

After about a year, she made enough money with her bakery for a downpayment on the apartment. But now with their second child on the way, it wasn't viable to live in such a tiny place, even though it hurt to let it go.

"Something wrong, Mommy?" Fortune asked, seeing her mother's face. Sadness, conformity, longing, and a little disgust in her eyes.

"No, baby, I'm okay," Victoria sighed, but her husband also noticed that look. It had started about two and a half years ago when he was really focused on his sobriety journey, she seemed to simply lose interest in the person he was becoming.

Every morning, he woke up afraid she'd be gone. Every day when she left for work, he was scared she'd meet someone more exciting that would fill that void he unwillingly left behind. He was terrified she'd leave him like she did back when they were younger.

"Hey, Schatzi, since Fortune is having that sleepover with Gracie tonight, we should do something special," Klaus suggested.

"Like what?" She gave him that vacant look like she was dead inside.

"Romantic dinner, watching a movie, some... special cuddles," he winked.

"Sure," she sighed. Something horribly dangerous happens when your dreams come true... You're stuck with them.

**

"Die Hard!" Diego opened the door to Brigaderia Oito, Victoria's bakery. "How's it going? How's Klus?"

"It's alright, he's... sober," she mumbled. "Ah Dieguito, married life isn't what I signed up for."

"Trouble in paradise, huh? It's tough, marriage is hard work. I feel like everything I do is meaningless, but in the end, we're with the people we love, and we have amazing kids. We built something good."

"I guess so," she nodded, giving him his usual carrot cake with gooey brigadeiro on top. "I just wish Klaus would go back to being... Klaus. Not the drugs you know, but the wild nature, it's like he's broken. We barely ever have sex anymore."

"Ew! I don't wanna hear about that!" Diego pretended to gag. "My two siblings having sex? Barf!"

She rolled her eyes and placed her hand on her belly before turning to get Grace's birthday cake. She baked it and decorated it herself with cute jungle animals.

"Oh, it looks amazing!" He gasped. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, it's part of her present. Only the best for my goddaughter."

"Thank you so much, Vicky," he smiled, giving her a hug over the counter and giving her belly a pat. "Already know if it's a girl or a boy?"

"Not yet, we'll get to know on the next ultrasound."

"Hope it's a boy this time, my little man needs more friends, he's drowning in estrogen."

She huffed and gave him a playful shove. "Keep the cake in the fridge."

"Thanks a million, Vicky! I'll see you later."

"See you later," she turned to pick up the phone. "Hello, Brigadeiria Oito, how can I help you?"

"It's me, Schnucki!" Klaus said into the phone. "I just picked up Fortune from school, she choked on the pulp of her orange juice."

"What? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay now, she just had a little coughing fit and was back to normal... it's just, that she got scared and wanted to come back home."

"Klaus! I can't believe you pulled our daughter out of school because she lightly choked on juice! You're gonna ruin her with all this coddling!"

"She was scared!"

"Because she sees you scared all the damn time!"

"We can talk about this later after the party. She's here now and listening."

"Why did you put me on speaker?"

"Holding a cell phone close to your ear isn't good because the temperature-"

"JESUS CHRIST! SHUT UP!" She shouted and only then she noticed there was a client waiting for her. "Just a second, I'll be with you in no time..."

"Why are you like this? Pregnancy hormones driving you crazy?" He asked.

"No, Klaus, you are! Talk to you later, I have to work... someone has to work in this household!"

**

"Why is Mama mad at you?" Fortune asked as she rode in the back of Allison's car with Claire and her father to the party venue.

"Mama is nervous because she's pregnant, that makes mommies a little angry sometimes," Klaus said, adjusting her seat belt for the millionth time.

"She said it wasn't because of the baby."

"Alright... you know, sometimes daddies and mommies fight, my Tunnie baby, but that doesn't mean it's forever and it doesn't mean something bad is gonna happen."

"What if you two split?" The little girl frowned.

"That's not happening, your parents have been attached at the hip since they were toddlers," Allison chuckled. "It was kinda disgusting."

"If you're Aunt Vicky's sister and Uncle Klaus' sister... does that mean they're siblings too?" Claire asked.

"That's a very long very lovely story for when you're a little bit older, Claire-bear" Klaus said before turning back to his daughter. "My little princess, don't worry about mommy, okay? I'm always here for you, and she'll always be here for you too, we love you more than the entire universe. It's just that things changed a little, but nothing that cannot be fixed."

"Hey, guys!" Victoria waved at them once they parked, she was bringing four boxes of party sweets, Brazilian style of course... beijinho, brigadeiro, bicho de pé, ninho e nutella, casadinho.

"Hey! Hey! Don't go around carrying that! You're in no condition!" Klaus took his car helmet off and rushed to help her with the boxes.

"Relax, she's pregnant, not dead," Lila came right behind with the huge bottles of soda.

"Leave it to me," he insisted.

Once they were inside, Grace and the twins came running to meet Claire and Fortune. Victoria hugged her nieces and nephew, as did Klaus before Diego gave them a look and pointed with his eyes to the doll house which was secluded and empty.

"We need to talk," she mumbled.

"Yeah... don't take your eyes off Fortune, Claire," Klaus asked. "Don't let her eat or drink anything with red 40 or 4-MEI!"

"You say as if we didn't sneak out at least three times a week to stuff our faces with doughnuts at Griddy's..." Victoria sighed as she pulled him to the doll house.

"We had superpowers and it was a different time, we were young and dumb."

"We enjoyed life," she sat down on a tiny pink chair. "We don't need to feed our child crack, but if she drank a little coke once in a while, she'll be fine!"

"What happened to us?" He looked up with puppy eyes. "We haven't fucked since we conceived this baby, you look at me like I'm a pile of cow shit, you turn your face when I go to kiss you..."

"It just hurts to see what you became. This isn't the man I married. You need therapy."

"This again? No therapy! I don't need it and we probably can't afford it."

"You're going insane!"

"Give me a chance, okay? I promise I'll make it right tonight when we get home."

She nodded, wanting more than anything to believe him. "Alright, let's see about tonight."

When the couple left the doll house, the entire family was already there, well almost the entire family.

"Oh give me a break... fake Ben is here? Who invited him?" Victoria huffed, she never really accepted Sparrow Ben as a part of the family, because he wasn't. She was even a little happy when he was arrested, meaning he'd stay away.

"Believe me, I didn't wanna be here either," he rolled his eyes.

"Come on guys, no fighting!" Luther emerged from the ball pit. "It's a family night."

"Yeah, you're right, can't let him ruin it... Cincooooo!" She went to hug Five. "Look at you, all grown up! It's like every day you get bigger, come here, little CIA man!"

"I'm not a damn child, you know?" He reluctantly hugged her back. "And I'm not little!"

"Where's Viktor?" She asked.

"He said he was coming," Luther smiled.

"Victoria, can we go outside for a little bit? I'm hyperventilating, this place is so full of people and nobody's wearing a mask," Klaus whispered.

She shook her head defeated. "Just take deep breaths, honey, it's okay. Did you see fake Ben is back? Look, our brothers are here, we're still waiting for Viktor though."

"Vicky!" Diego called from a corner while holding a piñata.

She was happy to leave Klaus to calm down for a moment and join her other brother. "What's up?"

"Does this look like a West Side piñata to you? I mean, it's clearly East Side, right?"

"Um... what's the difference?"

"The fringe, the eyes, the colors! And the fact that Lila told me she'd be on the West Side today and this looks like an East Side piñata."

"Oh Dieguito... don't overthink, it's probably a misunderstanding, let's not jump to conclusions, alright?"

"Maybe you were right, you know? I work all day and it kills me, the kids suck whatever energy I have left, and the in-laws... I'm glad they're alive in this timeline, but I don't want them living in our house."

Victoria nodded, understanding the feeling, but she didn't want their marriage to end because of her own doubts.

"Hey, cariño, come on... I know I didn't like Lila when you first got together, but she really grew on me. She's a good mom and she really loves you. It's just a rough patch."

"Liebling, please... can we step out just a little bit?" Klaus approached them.

Accepting her fate, she nodded and took his hand so they could get some fresh air. But the moment she stepped out, she knew something was wrong, there was a wrapped gift on the pavement and she picked it up.

"From Uncle Viktor?" She read the card.

"Why would he leave the gift on the street and take off?" Klaus wondered.

She started looking around for clues and after some inspection, she found a note on her windshield.

"Your brother Viktor has been kidnapped. Follow my exact instructions and no harm will come to him," she read the contents of the note. "Fucking shit cunt ass motherfucker... let's get the others."

**

After leaving Lila's parents in charge of the party, the old Hargreeves clan and Lila jumped into Diego's van and they headed to the address written on the note.

"Everyone stay behind me, I got a gun," Five announced, pulling his revolver as they entered the dry cleaner corresponding to the number they were given.

"Did you bring a gun to a children's birthday party?" Klaus hissed, his face covered by a gas mask. "Can you smell this? This place is a chemical wasteland."

"Says the man who made me swim in the fucking sewer six years ago," Victoria huffed.

"It's Viktor!" Luther pointed at the short man tied up to a chair with a bag over his head.

She ran and got the bag off. "Oh hey, Vik, long time no see!"

"Hey Vic yourself..." he mumbled as she started untying him with the help of Luther.

"Who kidnapped you? Dad and his goons?" She asked.

"I doubt it, this is amateur hour," Five shook his head.

"I apologize if my methods are a little crude, but it's my first kidnapping," A man came from the back. He looked harmless enough, but he held a gun, so out of instinct, Victoria stood in front of Klaus like a shield. "Hopefully it'll be my last, but I need your help."

"Kidnapping our brother and pointing a gun at us won't buy you much goodwill," Five murmured, pointing his gun at the man.

"It was the only way I could make sure you came here, all of you. I couldn't leave anything to chance, especially when it comes to the Umbrella Academy."

"Wow, haven't heard that name in years!" Victoria scoffed.

"Sorry pal, the Umbrella Academy doesn't exist," Five said.

"Only in our hearts," she completed.

The man put the gun down and opened a box full of artifacts, pictures, newspaper articles, masks, action figures...

"Oh look! The time we saved the Eiffel Tower! Remember?" Vicky smiled. "Zombie Gustav Eiffel!" She said in a silly voice.

"Where did you get this?" Diego asked.

"It was all in this box in the back of my daughter's car. Her name is Jennifer."

"Ugh, I hate that name," Victoria groaned, she had hated this name since the incident that took her brother's life.

"I don't know where she got it, but about a year ago she met these new friends and she started going to these strange meetings. Some very strange people, call themselves The Keepers. And then over time, she stopped talking to me, I believe something terrible happened, because we were very close."

Klaus picked Dave's dog tags from the box and frowned, which made Victoria's blood boil. She was very understanding of that whole thing when it happened, but lately, she didn't need much to get angry at him.

"Put that shit back!" She snagged the chain from his hands and threw it in the box.

"Sorry, sorry..." He mumbled.

"How did you find us?" Luther asked.

"I saw you on TV, Toss N' Wash," the strange man pointed at Allison.

"Ha! See? No small parts," Klaus poked his sister's shoulder.

"I've been watching you for a while actually and I apologize. I'm so sorry! I know you'd probably kill me if you could," the man looked at Victoria. "But she's all I have left, you must know what that feels like."

"I actually do," she sighed. "But we're not the same as we were, we don't have powers anymore."

"Yeah, we're not special," Diego agreed.

"Speak for yourself, tubby," Ben whispered under his breath and earned a punch in the shoulder from Victoria.

"I might not have powers, but I can kick your ass!"

"Give us 24 hours, we'll find your daughter," Five took the box quickly.

"Yes! Thank you!" The man cried. "Thank you very much, Umbrella Academy! I think you're special!"

"Five! What are you doing?" Allison hissed, following him outside. "You know we can't help, why did you do that?"

"Because... of this," Five pulled out a jar of marigold from the box.

**

"What I wanna know is how the daughter of a dry cleaner ends up with a jar of marigold in the trunk of her car," Five wondered.

The siblings decided to grab dinner at a Japanese restaurant and discuss their theories.

"Could it be something to do with Dad?" Klaus clumsily shoved rice into his mouth with the chopsticks (because of course, raw fish was too dangerous to eat with all the contamination risks)

"No, he took away our powers, and for good reason," Victoria shook her head.

"How do we know that's not just glow stick juice?" Diego teased.

"For the sake of discussion, let's say this is legit. Does anyone here actually want their power back?" Five asked.

"No way!" Klaus yelped. "For the first time in my life, I'm sober... and happy. And most importantly 100% poltergeist free."

"You're anything but free, you don't leave the house and you wear gloves and a mask in public," Victoria pointed out.

"At least I'm in control."

"Hmm I smell divorce," Ben taunted.

"Shut the fuck up! You're not even one of us, fuck off," she grabbed the jar of marigold and held tightly to it.

"It's a hard no for me too. I have a bar, a life..." Viktor quickly said to end the discussion.

"You're all such losers, we should be mainlining this shit right now!" Ben groaned.

"Whoever wants powers back, raise your hand!" Victoria stood up. Nobody raised their hands except Ben.

"We have everything we need," Lila shrugged.

"Damn right, and as much as I hate Dad, he's extremely intelligent. He took away our powers because they were the cause of apocalypse after apocalypse after apocalypse. This way we are safe and the world is safe. Majority wins and I'm taking this cause I don't trust you, little weasel." Victoria shoved her finger in Ben's face. "Now let's go home, and stop flossing in public, Klaus, fucking disgusting. You're not making me wanna have sex with you any more by being gross."

Tag List: @salvador-daley @seanfalco

[imyourbratzdoll]

Can you do Robert Sheehan frenemies to lovers? Maybe they are co stars and shooting cherrybomb? Because that era was HOT

hi! I've never seen the film, so I hope you like it!

summary - you have an annoyingly attractive co-star and things get slightly heated in your trailer.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

Why did you have to work with him? He annoyed you with his good looks and his stupidly attractive voice. You sit, sipping on your coffee as you watch the scene play out before you. A frown rests on your lips as in between cuts Robert would look over at you and wink. You scoff, standing and walking toward your trailer, you were going to wait inside until you had to do your scene. 

You flop down onto the couch, sighing as you rub your face. “Why couldn’t I film with someone else? Why him?” 

“Don’ know, love. But I’m sure glad I’m filmin’ with ya!” His Irish accent filled the room, you groaned and removed your hands from your face. It had been like this since the first day, you’d bicker and then act friendly, most of the bickering came from your side because if you didn’t, you’d end up falling for him and Robert loved to push your buttons. “Now why did ya leave? Was just getting to the good part of the scene!” 

“Ugh, what are you doing here? Don’t you see that I’m trying to get away from you.” You stand, moving toward the tiny kitchen area and you lean against the counter, anything to put some space between you two. Your eyes roll and a huff escapes you when he moves closer, a smirk on his cute face. 

“I’m here to see ya! You left so quickly, but I didn’ mind watching ya cute self walk away!” His eyes move up and down your body, continuing to smirk as your face flushes. 

“Stop it. Now, you gotta go. I have to get ready for my scene and I can’t have you messing with my head.” You move forward, about to move around him when he stops you, arms caging you in and he leans down. 

“How bout ya make me, sweetness.” You can feel his breath against your lips, his pretty eyes making you melt. “Hmm, I see how ya look at me. I bet ya won't’ stop me if I kiss ya, huh?” You whine as his lips brush against yours, pulling you in until he suddenly pulls back and backs away. “Welp, gotta go! See ya on set, love!”

What the hell just happened?

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[salvador-daley]

Clone | Part 1

Robert Sheehan x Reader x Female!Robert Sheehan | 🍆🍑👀

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this forever and it just seems like a waste to have it languishing in my WIPs folder, so I’m gonna split it into three (increasingly sexy) parts and give y’all one a week. It’s not strictly RPF - more like original characters based on you-know-who. If you like this chapter, please lemme know coz it’ll motivate me to write the *ahem*… climax.

CW: Smutty but very tame by my standards. Includes numerous health & safety violations at work culminating in a blow-job related accident.

Words: 2.5k

Gif by @circumstellars

THE LAB is quiet. Everyone else went home hours ago. As you raise your head from your microscope, you’re not expecting to feel two soft hands enveloping your eyes. The sensation startles you, but then a gentle Irish voice whispers in your ear, “Guess who?”

“Graham Norton,” you say with confidence.

He lifts his hands from your eyes and pops his head over your shoulder.

“Do I really sound like Graham Norton,” he says, pretending to be offended.

You reach up to your boyfriend’s face with a smile and bring his familiar lips to yours.

“Only sometimes,” you say once your mouths part. “How did you get in here? Didn’t you get stopped by security?”

“What, old man Joe on the door?” he asks, perching on the lab stool next to yours. “Nah, we’re old friends, me and him.”

You give him a questioning look.

“I signed some stuff for his granddaughter,” he says by way of explanation.

You roll your eyes; Joe is such a pushover. Considering the kind of work you’re involved in, one would think your employers would be keen to enforce stricter security protocols.

“It should not be that easy to get in here. This is highly sensitive work,” you say, shaking your head as you carefully pack away your slides.

“What’re you working on, anyway?” he asks, squinting to look down your microscope.

You slip your hand over it, obscuring his view.

“Listen, Irish,” you say, using his preferred nickname, “this is top secret shit, okay? You can’t just come in here and start messing around.”

“C’mon,” he says, flashing you his trademark smile. “I’m just trying to take an interest in my girlfriend’s work.” His hands loop around your waist and he draws you closer. You feel his hot breath on your face as his lips find yours again, kissing away your protestations.

His face comes away and you look into his deep green eyes. Much like old Joe succumbs to his charms with frightening regularity, Irish has on more than one occasion convinced you to bend the rules for him with his formidable powers of persuasion.

This is different though, this could get you into a lot of trouble. The lab might be deserted, but still you look around to check if the coast is clear.

“Okay, if I show you this one thing you have to promise me you won’t say a word to anyone,” you say.

He raises three fingers to his forehead and smiles.

“Scout’s honour,” he replies.

“This is Pedro,” you say, lifting the small white rabbit from its cage and holding it tightly to your body.

“Aw, hey, Pedro!” Irish says, reaching out to pet the shivering creature’s ears. “Is this what you wanted to show me? Because I’ve seen a bunny rabbit before, you know.” He pulls his hand away and lets out an exaggerated gasp, reaching up to his cheeks in simulated shock. “You’re not going to dissect Pedro, are you? You monster!”

You bat him lightly on the arm. “No, don’t be daft, I’m not going to hurt him,” you say, carrying the small animal to the other side of the lab. “We’re just going to do a little experiment, aren’t we, Pedro?” you add, murmuring into the rabbit’s soft fur.

You lead Irish and the rabbit to the end of the lab, where two large Perspex cylindrical booths reach from the floor to the ceiling. A short series of satisfying pips accompanies your fingers on the keypad belonging to the left booth, the curved wall of which rolls open, allowing you to carefully place Pedro on the floor inside. A few seconds, the door slides closed automatically and you move to the large dual computer monitors at a nearby desk, tapping away at the keyboard.

“If you’re going to make him disappear, wouldn’t it be easier to use a big top hat?” Irish quips.

“Shush, I’m concentrating,” you admonish him. Finally, and with a flourish, you hit the Enter key.

“Cloning sequence initialised,” says a computerised voice, followed by a flurry of electronic whirring sounds that echo around the empty lab.

Irish’s eyes search for the source of the noise before settling eventually at the end of the lab. Slowly, both cylinders begin to fill with neon green smoke until the rabbit has disappeared completely beneath the heavy fog.

“Pedro!” he cries. “You fucking gassed him!”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” you assure him.

He steps forward and presses his hands against the Perspex tube, his face illuminated by the bright green mist.

“This is mental,” he whispers, watching as the coloured gas swirls inside the cylinder, before finally being sucked into a vent at the top.

“Subject discharged,” says the computerised voice and the door of the left cylinder rolls open again, a puff of the remaining gas escaping into the lab. Unmoved, Pedro hops out and you scoop him up, placing him on the desk.

“See?” you say, indicating to the rabbit. “He’s totally fine.”

Irish reaches out to pet him and Pedro’s tiny nose twitches with excitement.

“Hey buddy,” Irish whispers.

Now the gas begins to clear from the right cylinder. You both turn to watch as the cloud of green smoke shoots up into the vent.

“Cloning sequence complete,” says the computerised voice.

The door to the right cylinder rolls open and you crouch down to reach inside, pulling out another small, white rabbit.

Irish’s jaw falls open as you stand, bringing the animal over to the desk.

“This,” you say, allowing the two rabbits to make their introductions, “is Petra.”

“What the fu-” Irish says under his breath.

“She’s identical to Pedro in every way. Well, every way but one, obviously. All of the clones have come out female so far. We’re still working out some of the design kinks.”

“You invented a fucking cloning machine?” he says, the magnitude of what he’s just witnessed finally dawning on him.

You shrug: “Well, I helped.”

He crouches down until his head is level with the desk, watching with fascination as the two rabbits sniff each other with curiosity.

Pedro hops around the desk, then approaches Petra from behind, mounting her without hesitation and beginning to rut with a certain level of determination.

Irish gives out a high-pitched laugh: “Ha! They seem to like each other.”

“Oh,” you chuckle, “yeah, they do that sometimes.” You lift Pedro off his female counterpart and place him back down on the desk. “Horny little buggers.”

“Gives me an idea,” he says, rising and turning to you with a familiar look in his eyes.

“Here?” you ask, incredulous.

“Yeah,” he says, wrapping his hands around your ass and drawing you closer. “All this clever clogs stuff really turns me on,” he growls, biting his bottom lip.

You put up a weak protest as his mouth begins to travel around your neck. “Someone might come in…”

“No one’s gonna come in, there’s no one here,” he says, his lips dotting the space behind your ear with persuasive little kisses.

You let out a gentle sigh, signalling your assent. You know it’s risky to fool around in the lab, but you have to admit it’s been a long-time fantasy of yours. Besides, you always let him have his own way in the end - he’s just too damn hard to resist.

“Mmmn… you smell so good,” he murmurs into your neck, his voice melting any lasting trace of resistance on your part.

You run your hands underneath his tank top and press his body to yours, feeling his warmth envelop you.

His lips are on yours now, his tongue teasing your mouth open as his hands move under your clothes.

You start to remove your long white lab coat, but he stops you, tugging it back over your shoulders.

“No, no, leave the lab coat on,” he whispers with a smile, “it’s sexy.”

Now he’s pressing his hands into your flesh over your clothes, drawing you closer as his lips move to your ear.

“Your big fucking brain turns me on so much,” he says, nibbling the side of your neck. “I just want to bend you over one of these lab benches and fuck you senseless.”

As fun as that sounds, you have other ideas. Pulling away from him, you lift his tank top over his head and his fluffy curls bounce around his ears as you drop the garment to the floor. He grins that irresistible grin at you - the one that sparks something raw and animalistic inside you. Feeling bold, you press your palms into his chest, pushing him up against one of the cylinders.

“There’ll be time for that,” you say, allowing him to feel your breath on his face before your lips seek him out again.

He moans into your kiss, his breaths becoming short and staggered as your hands find his belt buckle. You tug on his fly and reach inside for his cock, feeling him already straining against the thin material of his underwear.

His eyes close and he presses his head against the curved Perspex as you palm him, rolling him between your lightly tented fingers.

He exhales one long, jagged breath: “Oh, you’re teasing me,” he complains with clenched eyes, his voice straining under your feathery touch.

You love to watch him like this, each stroke of your hand releasing more whispered pleas from his lips.

Now you’re tracing tiny kisses down the length of his body, dragging his clothes off as you go. You pull his trousers down to his ankles and he shakes his feet out of them, kicking his flip flops off at the same time.

Kneeling in front of him, you grab his naked ass and pull him towards your face, rolling circles around him with your tongue.

“Ah, please, please,” he begs under his breath.

He whimpers as you finally take him into your mouth, pushing his hips against the curved plastic wall behind him.

Slowly, indulgently, your mouth moves over him, pulling him towards you with two firm hands clasped around his ass.

As your lips reach the light scattering of hair at the base, he releases a heavy exhale, the air leaving his lungs in one, long relieved chuckle. You cast your eyes up to meet his and he reaches down to stroke your hair, a delighted smile on his face.

“You look so good like that,” he says, moving his hips in a tentative rhythm.

You start to pick up speed, swirling your tongue around his length with each bob of your head until his back is pressed against the booth, his breathing coming now in short, anguished gasps.

Before long, you’re diving on him, aided by your hand, sucking and slurping, drooling and gagging. He begins to thrust his hips into your face and you sense he’s getting close.

Approaching the edge, his legs begin to buckle and he reaches behind him to steady himself, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on whatever they can find.

As his moans of encouragement ring around the lab, you hear a short series of satisfying pips.

His cock pops from your mouth and you look up at him. “What was that noise, was that the keypad?” you ask.

“Huh? What?” he says, looking down at you over his heaving chest, unable to hide his displeasure that you’ve suddenly stopped sucking his dick at the crucial juncture.

At that moment, the cylinder door rolls open and he topples asslong inside the tube, smacking his curly head hard against the inside wall and landing in a naked heap on the floor.

“Irish!” you call out, scrambling to your feet.

Before you can react, the cylinder door has closed around his unconscious body, trapping him inside.

“Irish!” you call again, hammering on the cylinder to wake him up, but he’s out cold.

Your fingers are frantic, hammering on the keypad, but in your panic you hit the wrong buttons and the machine beeps at you in stubborn refusal.

You race around to the desk, but you’re a split second too late. You watch as Pedro does a slow-motion bounce across the keyboard, giving the Enter key a firm smack with his furry foot as he leaps out of your way.

“Cloning sequence initialised,” says the computerised voice.

“No!” you cry. “No, no, no, no!”

Your shaking fingers bash uselessly at the keys, trying to find a way to stop the sequence, but you know it’s futile - there’s nothing you can do at this point.

“Shit. Shitshitshit.”

You watch as the cloud of neon green gas begins to curl around Irish’s body and you run back to the cylinder, crouching down as he disappears beneath the lurid fog.

“Irish! Irish, wake up! Irish!” you shout, still banging on the Perspex as his bodily form sinks beneath the gas.

“Oh God, ohgodohgod,” you say in quiet panic, pressing your palms and forehead to the tube as it fills until you can no longer make out his form beneath the fog. After what feels like an age, you hear the familiar sound of the vent springing to life, sucking the neon mist off his body.

“Subject discharged,” says the computer as the door swings open.

You crawl inside, choking on the remaining gas as you lean over his crumpled, lifeless form.

“Irish, Irish, baby, wake up,” you plead, cradling his head and slapping him on the cheeks.

His pretty green eyes blink open and he grimaces as he comes to, a hand seeking out the back of his skull.

“Ow. Fuck, my head!” he manages, wincing.

“Oh, thank God. I thought you were dead.”

“No, I’m fine,” he says, struggling to sit up. “Just a bump on the head is all, I’ll live.”

You reach around his head to feel for lumps inside his soft curly hair. He’s not bleeding, but he’s clearly dazed.

“Maybe we should take you to the emergency room, just in case. You could have a concussion,” you say, fussing over him.

“No, seriously, I’m fine, I’m fi-”

“Cloning sequence complete,” interrupts the computer, the synthetic voice bouncing around the lab.

He freezes and looks at you, his eyes wide.

“It only works on rabbits, right?” he asks.

You shake your head, terror visible in your face. “We’ve only ever tested it on rabbits,” you squeak, unable to hide the panic in your voice.

You lift him to his feet and emerge from the cylinder just as the door to the other tube rolls open, releasing a light gasp of green gas into the lab.

You both stand there, your mouths open, as one long leg emerges from the vestibule, then another, followed by a slender figure. Your eyes take in the tall torso, the narrow hips, the slim waist, the small, perfectly formed breasts, the head of long, chocolate-coloured ringlets and then, finally, those unmistakable green eyes.

“Oh, fuck. Irish, what did we fucking do?”

Check back in this time next week for Part 2. And if you enjoyed this, please give it a little reblog. Go on, the button is right there… 😘😘

If you’ve been tagged it’s probably because you asked to be a long time ago. If you don’t wanna be tagged in future updates, just send me a DM: @iamsexytrash @pickledbeefwastaken @m0onlitmadness @blog-kyku-us @super-unpredictable98 @love-is-dirty-baby @maerenee930 @simplymesam99 @sheehaniphilia @rob-private @rina-cydonia @icarusklaus @nostalgiawings @orangepear18 @p0tat0nug @21stcenturywitchcraft @ssanjuniperoo @the-freckled-luba @motherofanimals @archivemysins @faceache111 @lezzy-4 @firstpersonnarrator @inspiremeandsetmefree @sands7 @granddeaneaglesports @hanatashii @one-dizzydreamer @itscarolsainz @septicrebel @zombiedixon89 @amanda-hotchner @spaceclone-mom @readersinflammation @jender123 @juicyj28 @badsext @bunybordelaux @vomkimmeren @shaneen828 @klausmikaelsonswolf @kittenqueen04 @itsophiebby @itsjustmylifeconfessions @mypsychoticlove @jizzmans-world @thislovelylife

[klaushargreevesluvr]

i’d let robert sheehan do unspeakable things to me and that’s putting it lightly. he’s the perfect man

[paranoiddreams]

I beg you write for some Robert Sheehan characters 😔

Just for Her

⌗ Nathan Young x fem!reader

⌗ Warnings!! - Explicit language ofc!!!, fluff, slight angst, tension between Nathan and y/n because they’re stupid and whipped for each other, mentions of bullying, everyone treats Simon like shit still, jealousy, secret pinning, y/n is a Simon defender💅🏼, y/n’s power/ethnicity/features are not specified, 1 big cock joke 💪🏻, just general cuteness

⌗ WC!! - 1.94k

⌗ A/n!! - HI MY LOVE YES YES I AM WRITING SO MUCH RN I FEEL BAD FOR ALL THE SPEAK NO EVIL STUFF I HAVE STILL😭😭 but here’s something small for right now because I really need to get out of this weird writing funk I’m in. Sorry if the quality is shit, I’m on some new meds that are FUCKING with my head rn😀 at least I have these beautiful men (fictional and not) to keep me occupied 🤷🏻‍♀️ Speaking of, I have some stuff coming out for Mahito and Satoru soon as well, so don’t worry JJK babes, I will deliver soon🫡

Nathan couldn’t, more like wouldn’t, hold back his laughter as Simon stood before him, Curtis, Alisha, and Kelly, grunting and groaning as his face starts to turn red.

“He looks like he’s going to shit himself!” Nathan howled, keeling over in a fit of boisterous laughter.

“This is really impressive,” Alisha continued, her hand on her hip as she looked at Simon with an unimpressed expression. Curtis was snickering as well, while Kelly just frowned at the sight.

The door to the locker room swings open, the knob hitting the wall from the force of the last addition to the group enters.

“What are you guys doing? We have to paint some stupid fucking benches again!”

Everyone, including Simon, stop and look over at Y/n, who’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest next to the lockers. Her face falls as she looks around, spotting Simon who’s practically shaking in front of the group.

“Barry here was just showing us his A-list power!” Nathan chuckles, gesturing for her to come over. “Go on, Barry, show the girl!”

Simon looks back and forth between Nathan and y/n, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Y/n looks back at the jester of the group, his lips still twisted into a dumb smile.

“The fuck, Nathan?” Y/n groans. “Why are you all just laughing at him?!”

“He was standing there red as a tomato groaning,” he stops to pull a screwed up face, grunting as he impersonates the scene, “trying to show us how he turns invisible! And well, I hate to say it,” he puts his hand to the side of his lips to cover them, “but I don’t think it worked…”

Y/n rolls her eyes and walks over with a huff. “Curtis,” she asks flatly, turning her head to look up at him, “turn back time—now.”

He looks down at her confused. “What? Why? You know it doesn’t work like that!”

“Exactly!” She shouts, looking to the rest of the group. “I can’t control my power at will either, but none of you have denied it like you are with Simon!”

“I never said I believed you,” Alisha retorts.

Y/n turns her head to look at her with an annoyed huff. “Do you believe Curtis, then?”

She rests the hand on her hip at her side, her expression faltering slightly as she goes silent; she does, wholeheartedly at that.

“Right,” y/n says with a slight tilt of her head. She then turns to look back at Simon, who’s looking at her with the same wide-eyed stare he gives everyone. She then turns to look at Nathan, sending him a particularly harsh glare. “And you don’t even have a stupid power,” she sneers at him, her tone clearly fed up before she turns around, walking towards the locker room doors.

“Are you coming?!” Y/n shouts over her shoulder a few seconds later. The rest of the group reluctantly follow, Nathan looking a bit dejected—almost like a kicked puppy.

Once the group returned to the lake they were beside the day the storm happened, Curtis and Simon put the cans of white paint they were carrying down onto the seat of one of the benches. The fresh coat they’d only painted on a few weeks ago was already chipped and stained—partly from the massive clumps of hail that fell from the sky that fateful day, and partly from the ash of cigarettes smoked by the people passing by in the past few weeks.

“Well, this brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Nathan says with a deep sigh of sarcastic remembrance as he tails behind the group, his hands on his hips as he looks out upon the lake. “The day I met you lot,” he smiles, “the day you met the love of your life!”

Y/n looks back at Nathan, who’s looking at her with a cheeky smile while wiggling his eyebrows. She simply rolls her eyes before turning to help Kelly open a can of paint.

Nathan’s smirk falls slowly as he feels a sting of rejection in his chest; he was used to y/n snorting softly, or nudging him with her elbow, whenever he made a stupid joke or pass at her. But he could tell something was up, and he had a feeling it might have something to do with what happened in the locker rooms. Just maybe…

…It most definitely did. Y/n put her headphones on as soon as she started panting the bench Curtis was working on opposite of her, turning her music up all the way. She couldn’t help replaying the previous confrontation in her head as she slathered white paint onto the bench with a cheap brush. She just wanted to go home and sleep, maybe drink a few glasses of wine from her mom’s secret stash just to forget the 164 hours she has left at this place.

Although she knows she’ll most likely wake up tomorrow excited to ride along with the group as they complete various bothersome tasks; as crazy as it sounds, she’s grown close to the five of them, despite everything. Especially Nathan.

She hates to admit it, but that Irish prick has her in a chokehold. She finds herself thinking of him and his stupid jokes late at night, or when she’s getting ready in the mornings, a smile coming to her face. Usually on mornings like that, she tends to layer on her mascara just a little heavier.

But sometimes, she just can’t stand the guy; especially when he’s being a bigger dick than usual.

Ignoring her racing thoughts, brushing them off as her being a bit more irritated than usual today, y/n continues to paint the bench in front of her. She pretends she’s actually painting something meaningful, like the Mona Lisa, or her favorite piece, Saturn Devouring His Son.

But her train of thought is quickly cut off when the swelling music in her ears stops suddenly. “Hey!” She yelps, turning her head up to look at the culprit behind her.

“Whatcha’ listenin’ to?” Nathan asks with a smile as he pulls the headphones over his head, his curls falling over his face. Music pours through the padded speakers over his ears, and he starts plucking an air guitar as he dances to the song. But he quickly halts his antics when y/n shoots up from her crouched position behind the bench, yanking the headphones off of his head before darting towards the opposite direction.

“Where is she going?” Kelly turns to Nathan, brows furrowed as she glares up at him with a knowing look.

“Hell if I know!” He exclaims, dropping his hands at his sides. But before he can stop himself, Nathan feels his feet acting on instinct, trailing behind her. A few moments later, he sees her in the distance, jogging the rest of the way to her.

Y/n sits against a concrete pillar under the highway, holding a cigarette in her fingers as smoke pours from between her lips, floating above her head like a halo. She looks out over the lake, the water lapping and glittering in the sunshine.

At first when Nathan reaches her, she continues on as if he weren’t there, but then flinches to attention when he sits down next to her.

“Is my dancing that bad?” he asks when y/n pulls the muff of her headphones away from one of her ears. "Ran off like a scared deer."

She sighs softly, and takes them off completely. "And?"

"And you can't leave me with them!" Nathan exclaims in a lighthearted manner. "You know you're the only one I can barely tolerate."

Y/n exhales a soft huff of amusement, making his heart flutter softly, to which he ignores as usual.

"You were being a dick, you know?" y/n sighs. "You always are to Simon."

"Who?"

She cocks her head to look at him, a blank expression of annoyance on her face. Nathan cackles, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Alright! Alright! I was just playing with him," he defends.

"Yeah, well not everyone likes to play around like that."

"You do."

Y/n gives him a look again, and he backs off slightly. "Okay," he sighs. "I'll give the lad a proper apology...later..."

Once she analyzes his face and determines Nathan isn’t joking around completely this time, she smiles softly for the first time today, leaning her head back against the concrete pillar. Nathan mirrors her, his eyes focused on the slope of her nose as she looks out across the water--he can practically hear the cogs turning in her head.

"You can make people feel like shit sometimes," she continues after a few silent moments. Nathan pulls his eyes away from her Cupid's bow, back to her's. "I would know."

He feels a slight pang of...something in his chest. "I make you feel like shit?" He asks.

"No," she says, "not that. It's just...no offense...but I've known a few boys like you--well, not entirely like you. They didn't have..."

Nathan's smirk returns. "Good looks? Charm? A huge cock?"

Y/n giggles softly, nudging his shoulder with hers. "Shut up," she smiles, "I mean boys who cover their emotions with humor at the expense of others, they didn't have a joy for life like you, I guess. So when they'd make fun of people, it was impossible to tell the difference between jokes and insults. At first I thought you were one of those kinds of boys, and sometimes I forget you’re not."

Nathan nods softly, trying not to let his stupid jokes surface for once; because he knows she’s right. Humor is the immediate response he has to any emotion he feels. He's never thought about how it affects other's until now, despite the lectures from kids his age and adults alike over the years. What is it about y/n? He doesn't know; but he does keep listening.

"So just...try not to hide so much of yourself anymore," she sighs. “Be funny because you want to be. Not because you want to hurt someone else.”

A few moments of silence go by, only the sound of rushing water and the distant voices of the group reaching their ears.

"So...you were bullied by these guys?"

Y/n turns her head to look at Nathan. She simply nods her head and looks back at the water.

"Oh," he whispers.

She's never heard him so quiet, so speechless, before.

“I didn’t know.”

"I didn't tell you."

They sit there for a few more moments in silence, practically feeling the dragging of time going by before them. Nathan's eyes only wander back to y/n's supple cheeks when he makes the realization that, for the first time in his life, he has no jokes to tell. He isn't sliding past with an inappropriate innuendo, or breaking the silence with an offensive observation. He's just sitting in complete and udder silence with her.

"Maybe you could come with Simon and I to the pub tonight," he says after a few moments. "You know, so you can walk me through a proper apology."

Y/n turns her head, a soft smile appearing on her face. "Wow," she gasps.

"What? Want t' make it just the two of us?" Nathan asks with a cocky smirk. Y/n punches his shoulder, and for once, he relishes in the sting.

"No it's just...you called him Simon..."

Nathan's eyes widen slightly at her words, and he shakes his head softly, curls sticking up when he runs a hand through his hair.

"I--what do you mean? That's his name, isn't it?"

"Yeah," y/n laughs, "but none of us were really sure if you remembered that."

He clicks his tongue softly, cheeks going slightly red from being called out. "Yeah, yeah, I knew that. You lot really think lowly of me, huh?"

Her smile widens slightly, and she shakes her head softly. "No," she says, "At least I don't."

[storiesforallfandoms]

rescue mission ~ klaus hargreeves;umbrella academy

word count: 3646

request?: yes!

@werewolfbanshee-love​ “Awesome, so since I started today with the show can I ask for Y/N to be Klaus’s support and saves him from Cha-Cha and Hazel just being a badass”

description: in which the powerless human takes down two time commission agents on her own

pairing: klaus hargreeves x female!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, i use the name “vanya” in this one just because it takes place in season one

masterlist (one, two, three)

A family full of superheroes, and those fuckers had no idea that one of their brothers was missing. Too wrapped up in their own bullshit to care about anything else. All those superheroes, and it took a goddamn regular human to track down and save a missing Klaus.

I had been in Klaus’ room, waiting for him to come back, when I heard gunshots downstairs. I quickly dropped to the floor and got under his bed for protection. I was not super human, so there was absolutely zero way I was getting involved with whatever was happening. I hoped Klaus also wasn’t getting involved. I listened to the sound of footsteps running past the room, things crashing downstairs, and more gunshots. My breathing became heavier with panic with every passing sound.

I waited a few seconds after the noises went quiet, waiting for any signs of Klaus, or anyone for that matter, coming to check on me. When nothing happened, I hesitantly crawled out from under the bed. I heard slamming doors outside and looked out just in time to see two figures getting into a black car and drive away from the Hargreeves residence. Neither figure looked like any of the Hargreeves siblings, so I took this to mean that the danger had left.

I slowly opened Klaus’ bedroom door and started down the hallway. There was bullet holes in the walls and pictures knocked down. The bathroom door was still open, so I peaked inside but found it empty. There were signs that Klaus had been in there, but none as to where he had gone after his bath.

I could hear voices as I descended the stairs. The giant chandelier from the foyer was now laying shattered in the middle of the floor. An uneasy feeling started to grow in my stomach.

I found Diego, Allison, and Vanya in the living room.

“Hey,” I said, breaking up their conversation. “Where’s Klaus?”

“Who cares?” Diego retorted.

“Uncalled for, Diego,” Allison muttered. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said, glaring at Diego before turning to walk away. It was clear I was getting no help from them.

I searched the entire Hargreeves estate to no avail. I knew there was no way Klaus would leave without telling me. He could be a space case sometimes, but he usually remembered to tell me things. Also, he was in the bath. How would he just get out of there and leave during all that commotion without coming to put clothes on? I’d know if he left, I was sure of it.

A thought popped into my head then: the car I had seen drive away. I rushed to Reginald’s office, the one place in the whole house I knew would have a pen and paper. I quickly wrote down the details of the car before I could forget, including the license plate number.

There has to be a way I can find this car, I thought.

But how?

Driving around town was a no go. It was too big of a town, too many places they could’ve gone or still be going to. It would take me hours, even days. Klaus might not have that long.

There was one option I could try.

I ran back down over the stairs just in time to catch Diego leaving. “Wait! Diego, wait, I need a favor.”

He paused at the door and turned to face me. “What’s in it for me?”

I rolled my eyes. “What, are you 12?”

“No, just a man who knows an opportunity when he sees it.”

“Do me this favor or I get Luther to super strength kick you in the nuts.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

He looked at me, as if trying to decide whether to call my bluff or not. After a few moments, he signed and said, “What do you want?”

“I need you to call your cop girlfriend.”

“Patch? Why?”

I couldn’t tell him my suspicions about Klaus’ disappearance. He’d never believe me. I had only properly met Klaus’ siblings a few days earlier, but I could already tell they thought very lowly of him. They would just brush off his sudden disappearance as him going off on a bender and not worry about it.

“I just need her help,” I responded instead. “Please Diego.”

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Patch’s number. I thanked him profusely as I took his phone. It rang for a short while before Patch answered, “Diego, what do you w - ”

“Patch!” I cut her off. “Detective Patch, this is actually (Y/N), Diego’s brother’s girlfriend. I asked him to call you for me.”

“Oh, I remember you. You’re Klaus’ girlfriend. A little too stable for a guy like him.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Listen, I need a favor. I know this is a long shot because you don’t know me, but I needed a plate run on a car to try to find it. I assume cops can do that. Maybe I’m wrong, but it’s important. I - ” I looked over at Diego, who was looking down at his knives and clearly pretending he wasn’t listening. I lowered my voice to say, “I think something happened to Klaus.”

“If it’s something so serious you’re asking for police involvement, you may just want to file a report with the police.”

“No offence, but I don’t completely trust the cops to find him in time. I don’t even trust Klaus’ siblings and they have powers. Look, all I’m asking is any info you can find on this car, that’s it. Please Patch.”

There was a moment of silence. I expected her to say no. It was a big ask for her to do this for someone she didn’t even know. As far as I could tell, she didn’t even like Diego all that much right now. But I needed her to say yes. If she didn’t, I would already be at a severe disadvantage in finding Klaus before it was too late.

“Okay,” she said, finally. “Give me the information.”

I thanked her and gave her the details I had on the car. I also gave her my phone number so she’d call me and not Diego. I thanked Diego again as I gave him his phone back and went back to Klaus’ room to wait. There wasn’t much I could do until Patch got back to me about the car. If she couldn’t find any details about the car, I’d definitely be shit out of luck. I’d never find Klaus.

I paced up and down Klaus’ room. I kept looking out the window, as if the car would return and bring Klaus back safely. I could hear his siblings moving around the house, but not once coming to see where Klaus was. I knew Diego didn’t give a shit, but I thought maybe Allison or Vanya cared enough about their brother to be concerned when I said he was missing. Wishful thinking, I guess.

When my phone rang, I practically jumped out of my skin. I answered without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

“I got your car,” came Patch’s voice. “And a location.”

Roughly 20 minutes later, I was parked outside of a motel. The car wasn’t in the parking lot, but Patch swore this was the last known location. It was dark and my body was starting to realize it hadn’t slept in well over 12 hours. But I pushed through it. I needed to find Klaus. I needed him to be alive and safe.

The car finally pulled into the lot nearly an hour later. All sleep immediately left my body as I sat up and watched intently. The car parked and a man and woman got out. They didn’t go around to the back of the car to take a third person out, so I could only assume that Klaus was already inside their room. I got out of my car, grabbing the crowbar I had taken as a weapon before starting to follow Klaus’ captors at a safe distance. They turned a corner and I paused to let them get far enough away to keep myself safe. When I peaked around the corner, they had gone into one of the rooms.

I silently crept down the block of rooms. There was only one room with the lights on, so it was easy to find where the assailants were. I peaked through the thin white curtains to see a figure tied to a chair between the two beds.

Klaus.

I could see his two captors stood facing him, side on to where I was but not able to see me. I couldn’t make out much as the curtains still blocked a lot of my vision.

I hadn’t thought this far ahead. What was the next step here? How did I get them out of the room long enough for me to save Klaus? Or how did I knock them out long enough?

They wouldn’t just answer the door if I knocked, would they?

I took the chance and knocked at the door. “Housekeeping!”

There was silence. I knew it was a long shot, but I had no other plan, and I wasn’t sure how much time I had.

I tried again, knocking three times and repeating, “Housekeeping!”

My heart jumped when I heard the doorknob turn and the door suddenly opened. A tall man with brown hair and a beard looked down at me. Realizing that I wasn’t housekeeping, he looked at me in confusion.

I smiled. “Hello.”

And then I swung my crowbar.

It connected with the side of his head, knocking him to the door. I was surprised by how little effort it took to take him down. Now, where’s the other one?

My question was quickly answered by the sound of gunshots. I dove behind the nearest bed as the woman stepped out of the bathroom, now wearing a mask and shooting at me as I fell to the ground. I should’ve known they’d have guns. I heard the gunshots when I was at the Hargreeves’ place. And yet I came with a crowbar in hand, something that I needed to be very close to the attackers in order to use.

Stupid!

I looked over to where the man was laying unconscious. His white button up shirt was tucked into his pants, revealing his own holster with the gun. I knew it was a bad idea, but I needed to get that gun. At least to try and defend myself from this lady attacker.

I inched forward slowly. She had stopped shooting at me, so I knew she was just waiting for me to come out from my hiding spot. I had a short period of time to try and grab the gun and dive back to where I was hiding before her bullets finally made connections with my body. I had to grab something to cover me, or at least that would hopefully cover me, long enough for me to get the gun.

I looked up to see the a large briefcase on the table behind me. It was a long shot, I’m pretty sure bullets can go through briefcases, but it was all that I had. I turned so my feet were facing towards the table and kicked it. The briefcase wobbled slightly, but didn’t move.

“Hey!” called the female attacker. “What are you doing?!”

I kicked the table again and the briefcase fell over, the handle facing outwards. I reached up and grabbed it, pulling it down just in time for another bullet to whiz past my hand.

“You’re not a very good shot,” I taunted.

I held the briefcase in front of my body as I scurried out from behind the bed towards the unconscious man. I heard more gunshots and, surprisingly, they ricocheted off the briefcase.

This thing must be maid of titanium or something. It can’t be a normal briefcase.

I fumbled with the latch on his holster as another shot ran out, bouncing off the briefcase again. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding with adrenaline. I needed to get this thing off. I needed this to be a fair fight. When the latch finally popped free, I breathed a sigh of relief before taking the gun and diving back behind the bed, taking the briefcase with me. I had a feeling it was something important, and maybe I could exchange it for Klaus.

“Listen!” I called. “I’ve never dealt with all this shooting and kidnapping shit before. I’m not part of the Umbrella Academy, I don’t have powers, I’m just a normal person. I came here because I think you took my boyfriend and I want him back. Whatever you have against the Umbrella Academy I can assure you has nothing to do with Klaus. If you’d just give him up to me, I’ll give you back your briefcase and we’ll leave. I promise you we won’t interfere with whatever you have going on. Truthfully, I don’t even really like Klaus’ siblings right now, so if you want to go after them I won’t be standing in your way.”

There was silence. I was starting to get sick of this type of silence. Either agree or disagree with what I was saying. It wasn’t that deep to have to think about it for this long about my proposition.

Another gunshot rang out, so I took that as a no.

My hands were still shaking as I popped up from behind the bed and started blindly shooting. I had never handled a gun before. They were loud and extremely scary. I knew there was very little chance I would actually hit her, but maybe if I was lucky I’d get a good shot in and I could just take Klaus and run.

It didn’t take long for me to use up all of my bullets. I looked up to see that she was nowhere to be seen. I started to rise to my feet, hoping I had hit her and she was laying on the ground. But, of course, no such luck. The moment I stood, she came out of the bathroom again, gun lifted and aimed at me. My quick instincts were suddenly gone as I stared down the barrel of the gun that would undoubtably kill me. I wondered if Klaus’ siblings would find him before he joined me in my fate. I wondered if Diego would feel guilty for not listening to me when I asked him about Klaus being missing. If any of them would even feel somewhat remorseful for not saving me or Klaus in time.

Instead of another shot ringing out, though, the gun just clicked. Both of us looked at each other - well, I looked at her, her mask looked at me - dumbfounded. She tried again and got the same results. A laughed bubbled in my throat and escaped my lips before I could stop it.

Her gun had ran out of bullets, too.

She dropped the gun and lunged over the two beds towards me. She took my off guard long enough to knock me to the ground. I tried to swing at her, but her mask was just as hard as the briefcase was. I howled in pain as my fist collided with the mask for the first time, definitely shattering the bones in my hand. She seemed delighted by the fact that I was caught off guard again and punched me in the face. Pain exploded from my nose causing tears to well up into my eyes.

My crowbar was laying just inches away from me, next to the briefcase. Either one of those things would definitely work in this situation, but I had to hit her just right on the back of her head. It was obvious hitting the mask would only protect her. And I had to do it while she least expected it. If she knew what my plan was, she’d stop me in an instant and probably take me out with her own bare hands.

I stretched an arm out as she hit me again. The pain was almost unbearable. I’d have to get my nose and my hand looked at by a doctor I was sure, but for now I had to focus on surviving this attack and saving Klaus. I felt my fingers brush against one of the two potential weapons and closed them around it. I wasn’t sure which one I had grabbed, but it didn’t matter to me now. I grit my teeth against the pain and hissed out, “You should’ve taken my deal.”

I swung and the briefcase collided with the back of her head. She fell off of me, limp on the ground. I looked down at her to see blood forming on the back of her head. Knowing she was down for the count, I quickly stood and looked for where they could’ve hidden Klaus. It didn’t take long, though, as the silence finally fell over the room made it easier to hear the sound of muffled yelling coming from the closet. When I threw the doors open, I found Klaus, wrapped only in a towel and tied to the chair. His face was just as blood as mine was.

I nearly sobbed as I reached to take the tape off of his mouth.

“You found me,” he breathed.

“I wasn’t giving up until I did,” I said. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before they wake up.”

I undid his bindings and helped him to his feet. We started out of the room, but I paused to take my crowbar and the briefcase. I figured I could use some leverage if these assholes tried to come after us again.

We scurried across the parking lot to my car. My hand and nose were throbbing. I cradled my hand on my lap and drove with the other towards my house. I felt it was a better option than going back to the Hargreeves’ place. I didn’t want his siblings to see both of us all beat up and realize I had been right about Klaus’ disappearance. Not yet, anyways. I’d save the gloating for later.

When we got back to my place, I ran the shower for Klaus so he could clean himself up. I wrapped my hand in gauze from my first aid kit and held an icepack to my nose until the swelling went down. I then cleaned the blood from my face, careful not to accidentally bump my nose. I’d need to seek medical attention, but that was for a later time.

Klaus had clothes at my place, so I laid them out on my bed for him. Poor thing had been in just a towel for who knows how long.

When he came into my room, he paused at the door to look over me. He winced as he looked at my wrapped up hand. “Did they hurt you bad?”

“Well, this was me actually,” I said. “Those fucking masks were harder than I expected them to be. But she did break my nose. I’ll go see a doctor tomorrow. Did they hurt you bad?”

“No broken bones.” He took the clothes from my bed and changed into them. “I can’t believe you risked your life for me like that.”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I? They took you and they were hurting you.”

“I have superhuman siblings, though.”

I shook my head. “Too wrapped up in themselves to even listen to me. There was no other choice than for me to come find you myself.”

Klaus climbed into bed next to me. I rolled onto my side to face him, and he did the same, propping himself up on his elbow as he did so.

“I can’t believe you knocked both of them out on your own,” he said. “I heard all that gunfire and thought for sure you were dead.”

“Well, the guy wasn’t too hard to take down. He answered the door with no mask on, so I just hit him with the crowbar I brought with me. The woman put up more of a fight. I was lucky she was dumb enough to empty her gun while trying to shoot me or else I likely would’ve been a goner.”

He looked over me again. There was a look in his eyes I couldn’t quite place. It was like a combination of things. Love was the one thing I was sure I was seeing.

“I can’t believe you came for me,” he said again.

I smiled and leaned closer to him. “I love you, Klaus. I’d do anything to make sure you were safe. That includes risking my life to go after two kidnappers with guns and titanium masks on my own to save you from them.”

Klaus smiled. Tears were welling up in his eyes. He pulled me the rest of the way forward, closing the gap between us to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around him, leaning forward into the kiss so the two of us were laying down. I winced briefly as my nose brushed against his, sending a slight pain through my face.

“Sorry,” Klaus said, his voice soft. “You need to get that fixed. I can’t just not kiss you.”

I giggled. “Tomorrow, I promise. We need to rest now, though. We both had quite the night.”

As if finally realizing how tired he was, Klaus yawned and nodded. I settled into the bed next to him, cuddling into his chest. I could hear his heart beating as he drifted off to sleep. I used it as a reminder that he was there, that I had saved him, as my adrenaline finally wore off and I finally fell asleep.

[nolovelingers]

CALL ME ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ nathan young

⋆ ★ when you’re found vandalizing a nearby alleyway it isn’t just police officers you steal the attention of.

cw ᝰ.ᐟ sfw ,, swearing ,, fem!reader ,, alcohol ,, running from the cops ,, nathans not slick at all

PURPOSELY LOWERCASE 🎧 &&. written on iphone , sorry if funky format !

the alley was narrow and dank, the kind of place where the sun rarely pierced the gloom. the walls were covered in a patchwork of graffiti, the once-vibrant colors now faded and dull. the air hung heavy with the stench of rotting garbage and stale piss. empty beer bottles and crumpled fast food wrappers littered the grimy concrete, crunching underfoot with each step.

at the far end of the alley, a single flickering streetlamp cast a sickly yellow glow, barely illuminating anything. the sound of distant traffic and muffled laughter from a nearby pub drifted in, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that permeated this forgotten corner of the city.

brick walls loomed on either side, their jagged edges crumbling and sharp. the uneven cobblestones beneath your feet were slick with a mixture of rainwater and god knows what else, the slick surface glinting under the yellow glow of a single flickering streetlamp.

your heart raced as you scrawled a crude, lewd drawing on the wall with a can of spray paint, tongue poking out the side of your mouth in concentration. the harsh, acrid scent of the paint filled your nostrils, making your eyes water. you were just putting the final touches on your masterpiece when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the alley.

two burly, uniformed figures emerged from the shadows, their silhouettes growing larger and more menacing as they approached. your breath caught in your throat as one of them, a beefy man with a thick mustache, barked out a command.

"oi, you there! what d’ya think you're doing, you little tart?"

your instincts screamed at you to run, and without a second thought, you dropped the spray can and bolted. your heart hammered against your ribs as you sprinted down the alley, hair whipping behind you.

the cops gave chase, their heavy boots pounding against the ground, growing louder and closer with each passing second. your lungs burned as you ran, chest heaving with the effort. you could hear them shouting behind you, their voices tinged with anger and frustration.

your heart pounded like a drum in your ears as you tore out of the alley, lungs screaming for air. the cool night breeze whipped past your face, moving strands of your hair across your eyes. you blinked away the obstruction, gaze fixed straight ahead as you raced along the dimly lit sidewalk.

the bustling streets of london blurred past you, the neon signs and flickering streetlamps a kaleidoscope of color. the distant wail of a police siren sent a jolt of fear through your spine, spurring you on to run faster. your feet slapped against the pavement, the sound echoing in the narrow gap between towering buildings.

up ahead, a tall, lanky figure leaned against a wall, his posture casual and relaxed. he was dressed in a tattered flannel, his curly brown hair disheveled and falling into his eyes. as you sprinted closer, he glanced up, his gaze flicking over to you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

nathan watched the girl racing towards his direction, her face etched with panic and fear. he could hear the heavy footsteps and shouted orders of the cops hot on her heels. a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face as an idea took shape. he pushed off from the wall, falling into step beside the fleeing girl.

"oi, love," nathan called out, his voice tinged with a thick Irish accent. "looks like yer in a bit of a pickle, yeah? need a hand?"

he gestured to a narrow alleyway branching off the main street, hidden in the shadow of a crumbling brick archway. "there's a way out back there, if ye want it. might be a tight squeeze, but it beats getting caught by those blokes." he jerked his thumb back towards the alley, his grin widening. "fancy a detour?"

y/n’s eyes flicked to Nathan, taking in his disheveled appearance and the mischievous glint in his eyes. you hesitated for a split second, heart still pounding wildly in your chest. the sound of the cops grew louder, their shouts more insistent, urging you to make a decision.

biting your lip, you nodded jerkily, a flicker of relief and gratitude in your eyes. "aye, alright then. lead the way," you gasped out, words punctuated by ragged breaths.

nathan's grin widened. "right this way, miss," he spoke with a note of mocking formality in his voice. he led you down the narrow passageway. the alley twisted and turned, a labyrinth of shadowy corridors and hidden nooks. nathan navigated it with ease, clearly familiar with the secret paths and shortcuts. you followed close behind, heart gradually slowing as the sounds of the pursuing cops faded into the distance.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, you emerged into a small, walled-off courtyard. a single streetlamp cast a feeble glow over the space, illuminating a few rusted metal chairs and a overturned crate that served as makeshift seating.

nathan turned to face you, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. "there we are. safe and sound." he cocked an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"cheers," you panted out, a hint of a grin on your face. "i owe you one."

the boy raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance and the adrenaline still sparkling in your eyes. "aye, you do," he agreed. "so, what's a pretty little thing like you doing, getting yerself into trouble with the coppers? guessing it's not yer first time, yeah?"

you held your breath. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, could smell the strong scent of cigarette smoke and something uniquely him.

you leaned against the rough brick wall, catching your breath as you eyed nathan warily. you werent in the mood for idle chatter, especially not with a complete stranger. all you wanted was a moment to collect yourself.

nathan, however, seemed undeterred by your look of lack of enthusiasm. he didn’t wait for you to reply, instead taking a step closer, his gaze roaming over you appraisingly. "you've got a pair of lungs on ye, sprinting like that." he chuckled, a low, gravelly sound.

you rolled your eyes, pushing off from the wall and moving to brush past him. "cheers for the help, but im not really in the mood for a chat," you muttered, voice still slightly breathless.

nathan matched your stride easily, falling into step beside you. "aw, don't be like that, love. just trying to be friendly." he grinned, undeterred by your cool reception. "names nathan, by the way."

he extended a hand towards you, waiting for you to introduce yourself in return. "and you are...?" he prompted, his tone laced with curiosity.

“not interested.”

nathan's grin faltered slightly at your blunt refusal, but he quickly recovered, a stubborn glint entering his eyes. he was used to people pushing him away, but something about this girl intrigued him. maybe it was the fire in your eyes or the way you carried yourself with a defiant tilt to your chin.

"ouch, not interested, eh?" nathan said with a dramatic clutch to his chest. "well, can't say i blame ye. im not everyone's cup of tea." he shrugged, his grin returning. "but still, a bloke can try his luck, can't he? especially with a bird as pretty as you."

he took another step closer, invading your personal space. up close you could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes and the dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. "come on, don't be like that," nathan cajoled, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "i saved yer sweet little arse, didn't i? the least ye could do is tell me yer name. unless..."

he trailed off, his gaze dipping to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "yer hiding something? got a price on yer head or something?"

his tone was playful, teasing, but there was a hint of something else beneath the surface. a glimmer of genuine curiosity.

your eyes narrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest. "im not in the habit of spilling my guts to just anyone who comes along," you said, voice sharp and clipped.

nathan had the decency to look mildly offended, but the gleam in his eye never wavered.

"oi, im not just anyone," he protested, his tone playful and mocking. "im a hero, remember? i saved you from the clutches of the law." he struck a dramatic pose, one hand over his heart, the other outstretched as if to ward off an imaginary foe.

you snorted, rolling your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't get stuck. "a hero? is that what you call it?" you scoffed. "i call it a bloke with too much time on his hands and a penchant for pissing people off."

his grin only widened at the insult, clearly amused by your demeanor. "guilty as charged," he admitted, not sounding the least bit repentant. "but still, i think that earns me a wee more than a curt 'not interested'. don't you, love?"

he cocked his head to the side, studying you with a critical eye. "tell you what, how about a drink? i know a cracking pub just around the corner. my treat, of course. what do you say, fancy a pint?" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the direction of the establishment.

you hesitated, biting your lower lip as you considered the offer. a drink did sound nice, and it would give you a chance to relax. plus, there was something about this guy that both irritated and intrigued you.

"fine," you relented with a put-upon sigh. “but dont think this means anything, yeah? i just need a minute to get my head together."

nathans grin widened into a triumphant smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of something more intense. "scout's honor," he declared, holding up a hand in a mock salute. "i won't read too much into it.”

he added with a wink, “well, maybe a little.”

he stepped back, gesturing for you to lead the way out of the courtyard. "ladies first, of course. can't have you tripping and falling into my arms." his tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity in his words.

you rolled your eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at your lips as you brushed past him. "cheeky git," you muttered under your breath, but the insult lacked its usual bite.

as you emerged onto the bustling london street, nathan fell into step beside you, his long strides easily matching your quicker pace. the pub he'd mentioned was indeed just around the corner, a cozy-looking establishment with a warm glow spilling from its windows and the muffled sound of conversation and laughter drifting out into the night.

nathan held open the door for her, a gallant gesture that seemed at odds with his rough exterior. "after you, my lady," he said, a note of mock formality in his voice.

you hesitated for a moment before ducking inside, the warmth and noise enveloping you like a blanket. the pub was filled with an assortment of patrons, from the after-work crowd still in their suits and ties to the more casual regulars who looked like they'd been there since opening time.

nathan led you to a small table in the corner, the worn wood smooth and slightly sticky beneath your fingers. "what's your poison?" he asked, signaling the barmaid with a jerk of his chin.

you thought for a moment before answering. "whiskey, neat. double."

nathan raised an eyebrow but nodded, relaying the order to the barmaid. a few minutes later, two tumblers of amber liquid appeared on the table, the glass warming in your hands.

he watched as you took a swig of your whiskey, eyes watering slightly at the burn. he couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. "bloody hell, yer a proper little firecracker, aren't ye?" he remarked, taking a swig of his own drink. "most birds can't handle the hard stuff."

you shot him a withering look, but there was a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. "im not most birds," you retorted, voice sharp. you finished your whiskey in a matter of seconds, purely determined to prove him wrong.

nathan leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "no, you certainly are not," he agreed, his gaze roaming over you appraisingly.

you felt a blush creep up your neck at his bold once-over, but you held his gaze steadily. "and you're a right cheeky bastard," you shot back, voice laced with laughter. "do you always talk to girls like this, or am i just lucky?"

nathan's grin widened, his eyes glinting with mischief. "oh, yer lucky, alright," he said, his voice a low murmur. "not every girl can handle my particular brand of charm."

he leaned forward, invading your personal space just a little. "but yer not like other girls, are ye, baby?" his voice dropped to a husky whisper on the last word, his gaze dipping to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes.

you rolled your eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. "you're bloody right I'm not," you retorted, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. "im not one of your little airheads who fall all over themselves for a pretty face and a silver tongue."

nathan gasped, a hand clutched to his chest. "pretty face? i thought you said I was a right cheeky bastard," he said, a note of playful indignation in his voice.

you snorted, shaking your head. "cheeky and pretty. dangerous combination.”

his grin widened. "dangerous for who, love? cause i have to say, yer not exactly a shrinking violet yerself." he finished his whiskey, his gaze never leaving yours.

he signaled the barmaid, pointing to your empty glasses and holding up two fingers. you watched as she nodded, disappearing to fetch your refills.

turning back to you, nathan leaned forward, his elbows on the table and his chin propped up on his hands.

you matched his grin with a smirk of your own. "takes one to know one," you shot back, eyes sparkling. "besides, im not the one who dragged a complete stranger through a dodgy alley and then invited them for a drink."

nathan held up his hands in mock surrender. a laugh escaped him. "but in my defense, i didn't drag you. you came willingly."

you shook your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. "aye, because you gave me no choice," you said, but there was no real bite to your words.

he leaned forward, his elbows on the table, face mere inches from yours. "ah, but that's the thing. you had a choice. you could have told me no. yet you chose to come with me. why do ye think that is?" his voice was a low murmur, his eyes searching yours.

a sudden flush crept up your neck and spread across your cheeks at nathan's intense scrutiny and the low, intimate tone of his voice. you werent used to men looking at you like this, with such blatant interest and something more. something you couldn't quite put your finger on. it made you feel flustered and off-balance, two things you hated being.

"i...shut up," your voice came out more breathless than intended. the barmaid returns with the drinks, placing them down on the table and you quickly took another gulp of your whiskey, hoping the burn would hide the sudden heat in your face.

nathan's grin widened at your flustered reaction, and he leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. "thats not very polite, love," he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement. "here i am, being all charming and witty, and ye want me to shut up?"

you glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the blush still staining your cheeks. "youre impossible," you muttered.

he just laughed, the sound rich and warm in the noisy pub. "aye, but you like it," he said, a note of smugness in his voice.

he reached out, plucking your glass from in front of you and taking a deep swig of your whiskey. you watched, eyebrows shooting up.

"cheeky bastard," you muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words. you reached for your glass, only to find it empty. "hey, i was drinking that! you’ve still got your own, dickhead."

nathan shrugged, a look of feigned innocence on his face. "looked like ye needed a top-up," he said, his tone placating. he reached out, grabbing his own glass this time and swiftly finishing his beverage in one go.

you snorted, shaking your head. "i don't need you to tell me what i need," you retorted, but you couldn't quite suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

nathan’s grin widened, "no, i suppose ye don't," he agreed, pushing the empty glass towards you. "but im more than happy to provide, if you'll let me."

he waved his hand once again, gesturing for a refill. “like, how ye definitely need a third drink.”

the barmaid appeared with a fresh round, placing the glasses on the table with a friendly smile. you eyed the liquid, knowing you should probably slow down. but the warmth of the whiskey and the buzz of the conversation had you feeling more relaxed than you had in a long time.

you picked up the glass, swirling the liquid around before taking a sip. the alcohol burned your throat, but you welcomed the sensation, letting it chase away the lingering adrenaline from your narrow escape earlier.

nathan watched her over the rim of his own glass, a thoughtful expression on his face.

you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. you glanced up to find him watching you, eyes dark and unreadable in the dim light of the pub. a faint blush colored his cheeks, a rare sight on a man who seemed to wear his confidence like a second skin.

the moment stretched between them, the noise of the pub fading into the background. your heart stuttered in your chest, a sudden fluttering sensation that caught you off guard. you werent used to this. the way nathan looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

"what?" you asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. "why are you looking at me like that?"

nathan blinked, seeming to come back to himself. he shook his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "like what?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

you shrug, taking another sip of whiskey to hide your own sudden nervousness. "i don't know. like you're trying to figure me out or something," your gaze dropped to the table.

he was silent for a moment, and you could feel the weight of his stare on her face. "maybe i am," he said finally, his voice thoughtful.

glancing up at nathan, your brows furrow slightly. "and why would you want to do a thing like that?" you asked, with a note of genuine curiosity.

the curly haired boy was silent for a long moment, his gaze never leaving yours. when he spoke, his voice was low and earnest, a stark contrast to his usual teasing tone. "because you’re not like anyone ive ever met before," he said simply.

you felt a fierce blush spreading across your cheeks at his earnest words, the heat of it making you suddenly warm. you werent used to such straightforward compliments.

fustered, you drained the last of your whiskey and set the glass down with a slightly shaky hand. "i...i should probably go," you said, standing up abruptly. "its getting late."

nathan's brows arched slightly at your sudden movement, but he stood as well. "late? its not even midnight yet," he pointed out, a note of disappointment in his voice. "i thought we were getting to know each other."

you shook your head, grabbing your jacket and slinging it over your shoulder. "aye, well, im not used to staying out this late," you said, avoiding his gaze. "i have an early start tomorrow."

it was a lie, and they both knew it. you had no plans for the next day, but you suddenly felt overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. by the way nathan was looking at you with those dark, unreadable eyes. you needed to get some distance, to clear your head and make sense of the strange fluttering sensation in your stomach.

the brunette was silent for a moment, a flicker of something indecipherable in his gaze. then he nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "alright then," he said, his voice a low murmur. "let me walk you home then, yeah? cant have ye getting into more trouble without me around to bail you out, can i?"

with reluctance, you accepted his offer, nodding your head appreciatively. you, after all, would never object to having company during a walk at night.

as you stepped out into the cool night air, nathan fell besides you. the streets were quieter now, the after-work crowds long gone and the late-night revelers yet to emerge.

"well, this is cozy," nathan remarked, glancing around at the narrow, twisting streets. "i feel like im in a bloody episode of sherlock holmes or something."

you snorted, shaking your head. "aye, welcome to the real london," you said, a smirk tugging at your lips. "not all glitter and glamour like in the movies."

he laughed, a rich sound that seemed to echo off the close-set buildings. "no, but there's a certain charm to it," he said, a note of sincerity in his voice. "a gritty, unpretentious charm."

you walked on in comfortable silence for a few moments before nathan spoke again, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "you know, i never did catch your name earlier," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "only fair, since ive dragged you halfway across london."

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't quite suppress the smile that tugged at your mouth. "its y/n," you said, a hint of reluctance in your voice.

"y/n," nathan repeated, trying out the name on his tongue. "pretty name for a pretty girl," a grin spread across his face. "im glad i saved you tonight, y/n. among other things."

you couldn't help but blush at his flirtatious words, ducking your head to hide the sudden heat in your cheeks. "aye, well, im glad you were there too," you admitted, a note of grudging honesty in your voice.

you continued walking, the night air cool and crisp against your skin. nathan couldn't help but steal glances at you as they strolled, admiring the way your hair caught the faint light.

"so, tell me something about yerself, y/n," there was genuine curiosity in his voice. "besides your knack for getting into trouble and your impressive whiskey tolerance."

you thought for a moment before answering, a wry smile on your face. "im an artist," there was a hint of pride in your voice. "i paint, mostly. landscapes and portraits, that sort of thing."

nathan's eyes widened in surprise, a note of admiration in his voice. "an artist, eh? thats impressive," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "id love to see yer work sometime. maybe ye could paint me, capture me rugged good looks." he winked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

shaking your head, you responded. "and i suppose you want me to paint you as some sort of brooding, byronic hero?" you shot back, a smirk playing on your lips.

nathan racked his brain for a response as you walked on, but your curiosity beat him and you glanced over at him, a curious expression on your face. "so, what about you then?" you asked.

nathan was silent for a moment, considering your question. "well, as you can probably tell, im not exactly yer average bloke," there was a wry smile on his face. "ive got a bit of a...gift. call it what you will, but it's made my life a right bloody adventure."

he paused, glancing down at y/n with a mischievous grin. "but im not supposed to talk about it."

just then, they turned a corner and your flat came into view. you want to press further but decide against it. you stop abruptly, pointing to the modest brick building. "there we are," you said, a note of finality in your voice. "home sweet home."

nathan looked up at the building, a slow grin spreading across his face. “nice gaff," he complimented, a hint of approval in his tone. "not bad for a birdie who likes to play fast and loose with the law."

he turned to face you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. "well, this is where I leave you, love," there was a note of reluctance in his voice. "unless...ye want to invite me in for a nightcap?" he winked, a teasing lilt to his tone.

"i don't think so," you spoke finally, shaking your head. "but..." you paused, a mischievous glint in your eye. quickly, you reached into your back pocket and pulled out a sharpie, grabbing nathan's arm before he could protest.

with a few swift strokes, you scrawled your phone number in bold, graffiti-like font across his forearm, followed by the words "CALL ME" in capital letters.

"there," a smirk visibly showed itself on your face. "now you have no excuse not to ring me up and take me out properly."

nathan glanced down at his arm, a grin spreading across his face as he read the words. he looked back up at you, a note of admiration in his eyes. "well, well, well," he said, a chuckle escaping his lips. "i thought ye wanted to get rid of me, not give me an excuse to see ye again."

with a final wink, he stepped back, giving you a small bow. "until next time then, love," a grin played on his lips. "watch yerself, yeah?"

and with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone outside your flat, a blush on your cheeks and a sudden flutter of anticipation in your chest.

` ੈ˚ ★ a / n : me writing this for me and the remaining 11 nathan young fans left ….. it’s ok i mostly wrote this for myself 💜💜

started 1.15.2025. finished 1.17.2025.

©️ nolovelingers 2025

[hidelias]

S1: AO3 - Wattpad - FFN | S2: AO3 - Wattpad - FFN | S3: AO3 - Wattpad - FFN

---

[nightmare-niko]

Yall want Klaus Hargreeves fanfiction? I want Klaus Hargreeves fanfiction…

[maerenee930]

i don’t think i’ll ever understand how i can come up with all the ideas in my head for like stories or scenarios for klaus and tua and then when i even think about writing it or attempt to write something, i freeze.

it’s like i completely forgot how to write and get so anxious and overthink and stress myself out and worry and i just end up not writing anything at all. 🤦‍♀️

like seriously, why am i like this? i had so much excitement a few years back when i was thinking about writing fics about klaus and my oc peyton! like the thought of it made my heart so happy 🥰 it still does, tbh 🩵

but when it came to actually trying to write those ideas down… nothing.

not a single word.

i could write down details about her and give her more back story, but when it came to actually writing a story about her and klaus, or working her into that universe- my anxiety got the better of me. 😣😞

i still have so many ideas for them 🖤💙 and i so badly wish i could just not over think and write them down.

and not just keep them all in my head. 😓

i don’t understand why i can’t push past that fear and anxiety.

[super-unpredictable98]

The Eighth Child (~TUA AU~) - Season 4

Chapter 4: The Sacrifice of The Destroyer (Series Finale)

Warning: Strong language, death

a/n: So an era comes to an end. The Eighth Child was the first fic I ever posted on this blog and now it's come to an end. Five years later, it's hard to believe and I'll admit it makes me a little emotional. Though our little amazing group of Rob appreciators might have dissolved and while I don't admire Rob as much as I did before for many reasons (those were definitely 15 years of my life worshiping someone I'll never get back lol). I am very grateful for the friendships, the ones I lost touch with and the ones that stayed, I'm grateful for the laughter and the tears, the joy and sorrow, I'm grateful for the chance to share these worlds in my head with you all. I don't want to close a door and say I'll never write for Rob characters again, I probably will at some point after some time to breathe, but anyway, please enjoy the final chapter of Vicky's story <3

(The Eighth Child Masterlist)

By the time they made it to the Hargreeves mansion, Klaus was all caught up in the situation.

They snuck around the back, which was weirdly empty, there were a dozen guards last time she was there, but this time... nobody in sight, it was almost like someone wanted them there.

"Isn't it pretty?" Abigail held a little glass with the smallest amount of marigold.

"It's pretty," Fortune gasped.

"If you drink it, it'll make you the most special girl in the world! You can trust Grandma."

Seeing that scene made Victoria's blood run cold as all the trauma from her childhood came back. The hours of torture under the hydraulic press, the missions where sometimes she had to kill innocent people, losing Five, then losing Ben... all because of those damn powers.

"You're not her fucking grandma!" She ran just as Fortune was about to drink the liquid and grabbed the glass from her.

"You little...!" Abigail tried to take the marigold back, but it only made the liquid fly right into Victoria's face. The glowing particles immediately penetrated her eyes and pores, some went up her nose and into her mouth.

"Fucking cunt! Vagabunda do caralho, filha de uma puta!" She screamed, shoving the other woman. "I told you to stay away from my family! Nobody messes with my daughter!"

"Daddy!" Fortune ran to Klaus, a little scared of the whole scene unfolding in front of her.

"Tunnie, my love! Daddy's so sorry, I promise I'll never ever scream at you again, I swear!" He kissed her all over her cheeks and forehead.

"It's over now," Abigail smiled. "I will take you to Jennifer and the cleanse will happen!"

"And what makes you think I'd go?" Victoria asked.

In a millisecond, Abigail's arm turned into a blade and everyone jumped back, except for Vicky.

"Because I'll gut you if you don't."

"Oh yeah? Think I'm scared of you? Fuck you, alien bitch!"

"Liebling!" Klaus tried to pull her away, but it was too late.

Abigail went to slice her chest with the blade, the moment seemed almost like it played in slow motion. Victoria's clothes tore apart, but her skin was unbreakable.

"Die Hard is baaaack!" Diego cheered while the others were stunned. "Die Hard! Die Hard!" He chanted.

"If you're still in doubt... I'm Die Hard," Victoria smirked before pulling out one of the guns and shooting her three times.

"Dada, what's going on?"

"Shhhh grandma is just resting, she's so sleepy," Klaus covered Fortune's eyes.

Reginald heard the gunshots and came running out of the house, he found Abigail dead and went into a rage.

"Who did this? Why are you stupid children still meddling in my life?" He screamed.

"She poisoned me," Victoria jumped on his back and held him as he also tried to fight using his alien blade. "She infected me with marigold! That's what she wants! She wants to kill all of us, that was self-defense!"

When he finally managed to shake her off, he took Abigail in his arms and held her against his chest. That's when he noticed a note hidden in the inner pocket of her white jacket:

I ended the world and that's a good thing, my love. Dying was my penance for creating something so deadly. I had to see our world destroyed and you unleashed it on this one. I understand your loneliness, but your actions had consequences far greater than anything you could imagine. It was my duty to set it right. Forever yours, Abigail.

"I was wrong... and you made it right," Reginald finally realized.

"She made it right? What do you mean?" Victoria asked.

"The cleanse needs to happen, it's the only way the world can go back to its original state."

"That's it!" Five exclaimed. "When we were born, the timeline shattered in several pieces, the cleanse is just the fabric of space and time returning to the original timeline."

"So it's all good?" Klaus asked. "We make the cleanse happen and we'll all be free?"

"Not exactly... we are what always sets off the apocalypse. Our existence wasn't meant to be, we'll be erased from history."

"No, Five," Victoria shook her head. "The marigold wasn't meant to be. The cleanse will take all the marigold and leave you behind. It'll take me."

"No!" Klaus handed Fortune to Diego and rushed to hold his wife. "No, it can't take you!"

"I have the marigold now... it's gonna be me. But listen, you'll have Fortune and hopefully, this baby inside of me will find a way to his daddy. You'll be so happy, Klaus," she was trying not to cry, her voice wavering. "I'll always be a part of you and the kids, even if you can't remember me."

"I can't let you be erased from history, all our moments, our love, it can't just disappear!"

"Our love is too strong to ever disappear, it'll live on even if I never existed. It's just sad I won't be there to feel it."

"You can't leave, Mommy!" Fortune pleaded.

"Mommy won't leave," Viktor stepped in. "I can fix it. I can take the marigold from you like I did with Harlan."

"No, no, Vik! You can't do that!" Victoria protested.

"You're the one who can't do it! I have a shitty bar and no one waiting for me at home. You have a kid, another one coming, you have a husband... I can't let you disappear."

The siblings were conflicted, while none of them wanted Vicky to be erased, they also didn't want to lose Viktor. It was Sophie's choice, but it wasn't theirs to make.

"I love you, Viktor," Victoria hugged him. "I'm sorry for everything, back when we were kids... I should've done better."

"It's not your fault. It's my fate, I'm the one destined to end or save the world."

Viktor grabbed one of the glass shards on the grass and made a small cut on his palm where the last drop of marigold quickly penetrated.

"I'll arrange for Jennifer to be brought here and we can leave you both in the accelerating chamber," Reginald went inside to call one of his men.

Viktor took Victoria's hand and his whole body glowed bright yellow as he drew the marigold from her, it was taxing for both of them and the strength of the reaction made thunder roar in the sky.

Once the transfer was complete, she stepped away and was able to stumble her way to Klaus' arms before fainting.

**

"Uncle Ben! Uncle Ben! Do it again!" Fortune giggled.

Victoria opened her eyes and saw Ben playing with his niece. He tossed her in the air and caught her as she giggled and waved her arms around.

"Aren't they cute?" Klaus asked. "We finally got our Ben back and now we're losing Viktor..."

"I know, it should've been me," she mumbled.

"Noooo! That's not what I'm saying, nobody should have to stop existing."

"Where's Viktor?"

"In the accelerating chamber with Dad and Jennifer."

"So it's already started?"

Klaus nodded sadly, and Victoria got up, running to where the others were gathered, in front of a room with a single window. Reginald left the room, closing the door behind him with a heavy sigh.

"Very well, this chamber was designed by me as a way to accelerate chemical reactions that usually take thousands of years. This should only take a few minutes," he murmured.

"Minutes? No!" Victoria placed her hand on the glass and Viktor did the same from the other side, but instead of looking scared or sad, he was smiling. "My brother..."

"Remember Chocolate com Pimenta when we were 12?" Viktor chuckled. "Think of me as your Ludovico. I'll always be with you, you can't get me off your hair."

"But... you never watched it with us, how do you know that?"

"Of course I did, you don't remember? I just preferred to stay in the corner. Like always. Now at least I go with a bang."

"I love you so much," her voice cracked with emotion, tears shedding down her face. First Jennifer took one of her brothers, now the other. "I'll never forget you. The best brother anyone could ask for."

"You better not."

She left crying, letting the others say goodbye as she watched from afar. It was too painful to face that he was sacrificing for her, for them.

The dark mass of the cleanse that formed between Jennifer and Viktor was growing fast, slowly swallowing them like quicksand. At the last second, nobody wanted to believe he was truly gone forever, nobody had the courage to look, it was just him essentially alone, stuck in some chamber built by their father for the good of humanity... again.

And then there was nothing.

**

"Everyone, it's time!" Victoria and Klaus got up from the long picnic table.

It was a beautiful day, the sky was the bluest blue, the flowers were in bloom, the trees were filled with perfect bright green leaves, and a soft breeze blew through the park.

The pregnant mama grabbed a huge red, white, and black box with the logo that said Umbrella Bakery. Inside, there was a massive cake covered in white frosting.

"Soon we're gonna reveal the sex of our baby, I know it's my bakery, but I had nothing to do with this cake, so it's a surprise for me too," Victoria chuckled. "I just wanna thank everyone for being here, right Klaus?"

"Right, this is a celebration of life and you all are the most important people in our lives," he said as he picked Fortune up.

By the table everyone wore either blue or pink, depending on which they thought the sex of the baby would be. The closest ones to the happy couple were Victoria's parents, Maria Fernanda and Thiago, along with Klaus' adoptive mother, Grace.

His adoptive siblings were there with their families: Allison, her husband, Ray, and their daughter, Claire. Diego, with his wife, Lila, and their three kids. Luther and his wife, Sloane, who was also expecting. Ben and his fiancé, Jill. Quintin and his girlfriend, Dolores.

Hazel and his wife, Agnes, arrived just in time and joined Cha-Cha and her husband, Harold.

"Anyone else for the betting pool?" Herb asked while Dot took notes of everyone's guesses.

"Me!" Stan raised his hand. "It's a boy for sure!"

"No way," Elliott chuckled. "It's another girl, I can feel it."

"Are you okay?" Hannah asked, seeing Harlan cover his ears.

"Yes. I'm a little overwhelmed, but I'm okay, Han," he smiled.

"Cut the cake already!" Maria Fernanda cheered, her phone in hand to film it.

"Calm down, Mamãe!"

"Victoria Lisbela, you cut this cake right now! I can't wait to know!"

"Alright alright," Klaus gave Fortune the cake cutter. "Go on, Tunnie, let's see if you'll have a little brother or a little sister."

The little girl cut out a clumsy piece and revealed the blue batter inside, which made everyone clap and celebrate the baby boy.

"I'll have a brother!" the little girl ran around with the other kids.

"Parabéns, meu amor," Thiago kissed his daughter's cheek before smearing a little bit of frosting on her nose.

She shook her head and started cutting the cake to serve to the guests.

"So, any idea what name you two are gonna pick?" Diego asked.

"If it was a girl, we'd name her Vanya," Klaus chuckled, pulling his daughter into his lap. "But since it's a boy, it's gonna be Viktor."

"Viktor? Are you naming your baby after yourself?" Ben teased, taking a plate from Vicky.

"No, it's not after me. It's after someone really special, I don't know exactly who he is, but I dream of him sometimes... I know he's important to us and I miss him, even though we never met."

"Maybe someone we were close to in another life," Klaus suggested.

"You and your spiritual bullshit," Quintin chuckled.

"What? It could be true," Luther shrugged, turning the radio on.

"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Lila agreed, offering Victoria a marigold which she placed on her hair.

"Klausie! It's our song!" Vicky took his hand when I Think We're Alone Now started playing. "Let's dance!"

On the twelfth hour of the eighth day in August 2024, something very important happened... a party.

Tag List: @jozstankovich @firstpersonnarrator @salvador-daley

[imyourbratzdoll]

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ♡

summary - you have an annoyingly attractive co-star and things get slightly heated in your trailer.

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

[salvador-daley]

Clone | Part 2

Robert Sheehan x Reader x Female!Robert Sheehan

A/N: Oops - forgot to post this earlier in the week. Forgive me, I am old and senile.

CW: No filth, just some very intense flirting. Bisexual awakenings akimbo. But the next instalment? Pure wall-to-wall smut. 🍑🍆

Words: 5.5k

IRISH STEPS forward and so does she. His mouth falls open and so does hers. He reaches out to touch her and she reaches out to touch him. Their fingertips meet in the middle and he tilts his head in awed fascination. Her head tilts in the opposite direction, but instead of looking back at Irish, her eyes meet yours.

“Aren’t you guys gonna say something?” the woman asks.

“Oh my God, she talks!” cries Irish, leaping backwards with a squeal.

“Of course I talk,” she says in the same Irish accent as his, looking a little offended. She gazes around the room, taking in the long lab benches, the cages filled with small animals, the woman in the long white lab coat, the naked man in front of her. “Who are you? Where the hell am I?”

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” you say, trying to sound authoritative and calm. “We can explain everything.”

“Can we?” Irish squeaks in your ear, staring at you now with a look of blind panic.

“Look, just fucking calm down, okay?” you hiss at him. “You’ll freak her out. And put some fucking pants on.”

“Pants… pants…” he mutters, searching the floor for his discarded clothes. He manages to find his underwear and stumbles into them.

You step towards her with your hands out, as if approaching a wild animal. “Do you feel ok? Are you hurt?” you ask the woman, whose truly striking resemblance to your boyfriend is all the more apparent the closer you get.

“I feel fine,” the woman says with a shrug, fingering the tube she just stepped out of and taking in the rest of her surroundings.

“She seems very chill for someone who was just magicked into existence,” Irish whispers.

You nod. She’s certainly the calmest person in the room at this moment. Her whole demeanour is one of zen stillness and quiet curiosity, despite being thrust into being just a few seconds ago.

“W-what’s your name?” you ask.

She thinks for a second, her brow furrowing in an uncanny way.

“I-I don’t think I have one,” she says, approaching the desk now and proffering her fingers for one of the rabbits to sniff.

“We should give her a name,” says Irish into your ear, still cowering behind you.

“We can’t name her, we’re not… we’re not qualified!” you say in a hushed voice.

“Well, we created her,” he says, insistent. He thinks for a second. “I think she looks like a Robin.”

“Robin?” you repeat.

“Ooh, that’s a nice name,” she says, apparently listening the whole time.

“See, she likes it,” says Irish.

“Robin it is, then,” you say with resignation. “Robin, sweetheart, we’re going to explain everything, okay? But first, we have got to get you out of here.”

Irish grabs you by the shoulder. “Get her out of here? You want to take her with us? Shouldn’t we call someone? Isn’t this kidnapping?” he hisses at you.

You turn to him and level your gaze at him. “Look, she can’t stay here, okay? And we can’t call anyone, I’ll be fired. And they’ll do all sorts of experiments on her and shit. We’ve got to get her out of here, right now. Understand?”

He nods, realising the gravity of the situation. “Okay, okay, w-what do we do?” he asks.

You start to shimmy out of your lab coat, going into problem-solving mode. “There’s some flat shoes in my bag under the desk, go grab them.”

He darts under the desk while you attempt to dress your boyfriend’s naked double.

“Here, Robin, put this on,” you say, holding your lab coat out for her to slip into.

She inserts her arms into the sleeves, then turns so you can do it up, watching you with quiet fascination as your shaking fingers fumble with the buttons. She tips her head slightly as she observes you, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Irish returns with the shoes and you help her to step into them.

“Hey,” she says once dressed, looking down at her body and smoothing the lab coat with her hands: “this is kinda sexy.”

Irish pauses and smiles, then looks at you: “See? Told you so.”

“Get dressed!” you growl at him.

“Right, right,” he says, searching the ground again for his scattered clothes.

“Okay, g’night Joe! See you on Monday!” you call out to the elderly security guard, hoping your voice sounds breezy but so breezy that it sounds like an invite to conversation.

“All finished for the night, are we?” Joe asks. To your disappointment, you see him moving around the reception desk, clearly looking for a chat.

“Yep, all done, gotta head on home,” you say, attempting to usher Irish and Robin through the building’s revolving door.

“Oh, I didn’t realise there were three of you here tonight? I was sure I only counted two,” says Joe, checking the sign-in sheet on his clipboard.

You realise now that despite Joe’s advanced age that it was ambitious to imagine you could smuggle out a 6ft tall adult woman wearing nothing but a lab coat.

“Nope, three of us,” says Irish, stepping in with his characteristic charm. “You’re going senile in your old age there, Joe.”

“Oh, I feel I would’ve remembered you,” says Joe, looking at Robin. He proffers a hand to introduce himself.

“How nice to meet you,” says Robin with a wide smile, shaking his hand.

“This is my friend,” you say, improvising now. “Professor, um, Doppelgänger.”

Irish shoots you a look that says: Doppelgänger, seriously?

“She’s been helping me with some research,” you add.

“A professor?” says Joe, impressed. “And what’s a smart, beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?” he chuckles.

Robin’s mouth falls open as if to reply.

“Oh Joe, you old flirt!” says Irish, slapping him on the back before Robin has a chance to answer. “Anyway, we better be off. The, er, professor has a train to catch,” he adds.

Irish bundles you both through the door before Joe can say another word.

“You guys are terrible liars,” says Robin once you get outside. “Even I could see through that, and I was literally born five minutes ago.”

You wake up late, the excitement of the previous day having expended all your energy. The soft sounds of a high-pitched tune spread through the flat on a gentle wave, rousing you from your slumber. There is no sign of Irish - he must have gone out. You rise from the bed and head into the living room. Robin is sat cross-legged on the pull-out bed. The wide neckline of the oversized T-shirt you gave her the previous night has slipped down over one of her shoulders, her curly hair haloed by the morning light as she plays happily on a penny whistle. She stops when she sees you, flashing you that familiar smile.

“You can play that?” you ask.

She shrugs: “I guess so.”

Even Irish can’t play it that well. You wonder for a second what else she can do, then you remember you’re being a bad host to your new houseguest.

“You must be starving,” you say, heading to the kitchen. She follows you and perches on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “What do you like?”

She shakes her head and waves her hand through the air.

“Of course,” you say, “you have no idea what you like because you’ve never eaten before.”

Following last night’s escape from the facility, Robin had taken the news that she was a clone created in a lab accident surprisingly well, you felt. She didn’t panic or freak out or try to call the cops.

“So I’m… you?” she had said, pointing to Irish. “And you’re me?

“Yes, well, technically you’re female me,” he had said, foundering in his attempts to explain.

“And how did you end up inside the machine?”

“Err…” Irish’s mouth had fallen open and his eyes had darted to you in a panic.

“You know what, we can go over all the details in the morning,” you had said, stepping in to spare him the embarrassment. “I’m sure you’re tired and it’s been a crazy night. A lot to take in.”

“That’s a great idea,” Irish had announced. “Let’s all get a good night’s sleep and we can talk some more in the morning.”

You open the fridge and peer inside. Amid all the chaos, you had forgotten to buy food. All you have is gin, milk and orange juice.

“Let’s start with some coffee,” shall we?

You head over to the coffee machine and begin to fiddle with it, becoming aware of her 6ft form looming over you as you work.

“You put the water in here,” you say, demonstrating, “and then you put this in here, and press this button, and then the coffee comes out here.”

She’s watching you, but you have no idea if she’s listening. Silently, she reaches out to brush a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and you catch yourself blushing.

You clear your throat. “Cereal? I have cereal.”

You grab a couple of bowls from the cupboard and begin to pour corn flakes into them.

Watching you, she rests one elbow against the counter, stretching her long body out in front of her. She seems just as comfortable in her own skin as Irish is, a quiet confidence exuding from every pore.

You fill the bowls with milk and press one of them into her hands. She looks at it, then at you.

“Spoon!” you remember. “You need a spoon.”

Her ass is blocking the cutlery drawer and you have to nudge her out of way with an awkward “‘scuse me” in order to reach inside, your hand brushing against the silky smooth skin of her hip.

“Here you go,” you say, plopping the spoon inside her bowl.

She gives you another blank look.

“See?” you say, raising your own bowl and lifting the spoon to your mouth, “like this.”

Although seemingly a little hesitant, she follows your lead and you both stand there for a moment staring at each other and eating corn flakes in silence until you hear the door opening and Irish clattering through it with handfuls of grocery bags.

“How are my two best girls this morning?” he sings, plonking his bags on the breakfast bar.

“Your girlfriend is teaching me how to eat cereal,” says Robin.

Suddenly feeling quite stupid. You turn to look at her now. “You already know how to eat cereal, don’t you?”

Robin shrugs an apology. “You were on a roll, I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” she replies. “I know how to do a lot of things.”

Before you can question her further, Irish grabs you and pulls you to one side, leaving Robin to eat her corn flakes in the kitchen.

“So, how’s it going?” he asks in a low whisper.

“Really bad, Irish!” you say. You try to keep your voice down but it comes out as a high-pitched squeal instead. “You left me all on my own and I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“Calm down, okay? I went to get food, there’s only gin and orange juice in the fridge.”

You put your hands to your temples and squeeze. “I’m freaking out, man. I mean, how does this even work? Does she have your memories? She can play your penny whistle!”

“Really?” he says. “That’s interesting.”

Irish cranes his neck back into the kitchen area. “Hey Robin, how many siblings have you got?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” she says, munching a mouthful of cereal. “I don’t think I have any.”

“How’d you get that accent?” he asks.

“What accent?” she replies, giving him a quizzical look.

He turns back to you: “She doesn’t have my memories.”

“This is so crazy. Your genetic double is eating corn flakes in my kitchen and I think I’m losing my mind,” you say, hyperventilating now.

“Look,” he says, holding you by the wrists. “Everything is going to be fine, okay? Let’s just get to know her a little bit.”

He leads you back towards the breakfast bar and you sit at the twin stools as Robin finishes off her breakfast.

“You still hungry, Robin?” asks Irish, reaching into one of the grocery bags. “Why don’t you try some of this, I just got it from the Japanese place down the road.”

He removes the lid from a small sushi platter and places it on the breakfast bar.

She selects a piece of nigiri and holds it up to her face.

“Go on,” he urges.

She pops the fishy morsel in her mouth and chews, her eyes widening as the novel mix of flavours ignite her tastebuds.

“Wow, that is amazing,” she says. “What is that?”

“Yellowtail,” he says. “My favourite. Here, have another. What’s mine is yours.” He pushes the platter closer to her and her fingers dance over it as she decides which piece to eat next.

“No offence,” she says to you, “but this is much better than cereal.”

“None taken,” you say, holding your hands up in defeat. “Okay, so we’ve established that you both like sushi. What next?”

“Ooh, I know!” says Irish, jumping down from the breakfast bar and running over to the bookcase in the living area. He returns with a book of collected poems and flicks through it until he finds what he’s looking for, passing the open book to Robin. “Have a read of this, tell me what you think.”

Robin scans the page for a few minutes, absentmindedly scratching her neck as she reads. You watch as Irish raises his hand to his own neck, floating his fingers over the same spot.

Eventually, she rests her hand on her chest with an awed expression. “That is beautiful,” she says.

“I know, it’s one of my favourites,” he says.

“So you’re both poetry fans,” you say. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but how do you know how to read?”

“I don’t know, I just do,” says Robin. “It’s like muscle memory. I can do everything he can do.”

“Can you drive a car?” he asks.

“Yes, but not very well.”

“Bit hurtful. Can you ride a bike? Can you ride a horse?”

“Yes. And yes.”

“Do you pee standing up?”

“Do you?” she returns, one eyebrow cocked.

“Fair play,” he says quietly.

You give him a look.

“What?” he says, “I like to read.”

You shake your head. “I think we’re getting way off track here,” you say. “Robin, do you have any questions for us?”

“Not really,” she says. “Although you never did tell me how you ended up in the cloning machine.”

Irish releases a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I don’t think we need to get into all that,” he says, bringing his hand down hard on his forearm to swat a mosquito. “Ah, you fucker!” he exclaims, inspecting the site for bites.

“Ow,” says Robin under her breath, rubbing her own arm in the same place.

“Guys, let me just try something,” you say, moving around the breakfast bar. You grab a cocktail stick from the kitchen drawer and return to your seat. “Stick your hand out,” you say to Irish. He puts his hand on the counter and you jab him on the tip of his thumb.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” he says, pulling his hand back and shooting you an accusing look.

At the same time, Robin shakes her hand in the air with a soft “Ah!” and sticks her thumb in her mouth.

“Ok, that’s interesting,” you say. “Let me try something else now.”

You move around to Robin and stand behind her.

“Can you lift your arms for me for a second, honey. It’s for science,” you ask.

“Sure thing,” she says, giving you a sideways smirk.

You tickle her under the arms, knowing that it’s one of his most sensitive spots.

Robin laughs and squeals, meanwhile he writhes in his seat, as if ghostly fingers were invading his armpits.

“Ah-ah! Stop! What are you doing to me?” he screeches.

“Well, that proves it. You two have some kind of weird connection,” you say, releasing Robin and returning to your seat. “It’s like a sensory telepathy or something. She feels what you feel, and vice versa.”

His brow knits in confusion, his mouth gaping. Then his expression changes and his eyebrow curls towards the ceiling as a realisation dawns on him.

“Well, that could be fun,” he says, a wicked glint in his eyes now.

“I’m depending on you not to abuse that,” says Robin, extending a finger at him and wagging it in his face.

“Well, I could say the same thing to you,” he says, turning defensive.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” Robin says. “Try not to stub your toe or anything while I’m gone.”

She pats you on the shoulder as she leaves, allowing her fingers to linger on your skin for a split-second too long. The gesture doesn’t escape Irish’s attention and he crosses his brow, watching her with a hint of suspicion as she leaves. His mouth opens as if he’s about to say something, but you interrupt his thoughts before he can articulate them.

“Irish!” you hiss at him, grabbing his attention. “Now what do we do?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs. “Maybe we should take her out, you know, let her see some of the city.”

You look at him with a baffled expression. How is he approaching this whole thing so casually? Did that bump on his head shake some of his screws loose?

“Have you lost your mind?” you say, your voice pitching higher. “We can’t wander around town with your female clone like she’s some kind of visiting relative. We’re not taking her anywhere, we are staying right here until we figure this out.”

“Why not?” he says, leaning in closer to you. “Look, she’s 34 years old and she hasn’t experienced anything of the world. We can’t keep her cooped up in here forever.”

“But she’s not 34, she’s only a day old,” you insist. “What if something happens to her, what if she gets hurt?”

“She’s 6ft tall and she can do everything I can do, right? That means she can throw a punch if necessary,” he replies.

You know deep down that he is right. Keeping her locked up in your flat indefinitely wouldn’t be feasible or fair. And Robin seems perfectly capable of looking after herself, if a little naive.

“It’s interesting actually,” he continues, “I wonder if she can act. I’ve always wanted to play Lady Macbeth on the stage...” His mind is wandering now, indulging in some egotistical fantasy in which both his faces are on the poster.

“Irish!” you snap, nudging him back to the present.

“Right, yeah, sorry. Come on, let’s just go out somewhere, show her a good time. Everything will be fine.” He rubs your thigh as he speaks. You can already feel yourself giving in to him, once again.

“Ooh, are we going out?” says Robin, returning to the kitchen.

“Come on,” says Irish, pleading with you. “I think we could all use a little fun. What harm will it do?”

You look at Robin, those green eyes begging you to say yes, mirroring Irish’s expression. His persuasive powers are hard enough to resist at the best of times, let alone when there’s two of him.

You sigh. “Oh, fine,” you say, waving your hand in a gesture of surrender.

“Robin, my love,” says Irish, turning to her now, “how would you like to get drunk for the first time?”

Robin emerges from the en-suite bathroom in a towel, a couple of wet tendrils escaping from the nest of curls piled into a loose bun on top of her head, her wet skin glistening in the soft light of your bedroom. A light curl of steam follows her from the bathroom, wrapping around her slim ankles, caressing the tanned skin of her long legs. In her hands, a bottle of lotion, which she applies with care to her arms, allowing her fingers to drape over her skin with gentle, massaging strokes, skimming over her collarbone, the curves of her chest.

She tilts her head to meet your eyes. “Is everything all right?” she says.

In that moment, you realise you’ve been staring at her and you force yourself to snap out of it.

“Yes, er, yes. Let’s, erm, let’s find you something to wear,” you say, heading over to the closet. You throw open the doors and gesture at everything you own. “Just help yourself to whatever you want,” you say. “You are ever so tall, but I’m sure you’ll find something. We will get you some clothes of your own later, this is just for now.”

“Thank you,” she says, allowing the towel to drop to her feet and reaching up for the jeans on the top shelf. Her breast meets your eyeline and you avert your gaze, feeling the blood rush to your face. She certainly seems comfortable being naked, but then that shouldn’t surprise you - Irish seems to resist being fully clothed at every possible opportunity. You head over to your dressing table and finish applying your makeup, trying your best not to spy on her through the mirror.

“So, what kind of place do you want to go to? Somewhere lively with lots of people, or somewhere a little more chilled out and relaxed?” you say, attempting to make casual chit-chat despite the circumstances.

“Well, I don’t really have any frame of reference, so I trust you to make the call,” she says.

“There’s a great little place in town that does cocktails and finger foods. All of the drinks are named after famous… writers…” you trail off as your eyes fall on her approaching form.

She is dressed now and you take in her selection: a pair of extremely tight skinny jeans, in a shade of distressed dark grey with strategically placed rips up the legs, a tiny black bralette you can’t remember buying, over which she has chosen a sheer knitted top several sizes too big, the neckline draping loosely off one shoulder, the front tucked into her belt buckle.

“What’s the matter?” she says, observing your slack-jawed expression as she rolls up the sleeves. “Is this not ok?”

You blink hard and shake your head. “No, no, you look great. It’s just…” You bring your eyes up to meet hers and she shakes her curls loose from her bun. “You dress just like he does.”

“Ooh! These are pretty,” she says, fingering the box of bracelets and trinkets on your dressing table.

“Oh, those belong to Irish,” you say. “But I’m sure he won’t mind.”

She sits down on the bench next to you, rolling his beads and leather bangles up each arm.

“Well, he did say what’s his is mine, right?” She says, glancing at you with a smile. For a split second her eyes rest on your lips and you feel your heart pick up speed.

“Yes, yes. He did say that,” you laugh, trying and failing to hide your nerves. You go back to applying your lipstick under her watchful gaze. After a minute, you withdraw the product from your lips and offer it to her. “You want to borrow it?” you say.

She shakes her head. “That is something I definitely don’t know how to do,” she says with an apologetic smile. “You could do it for me?”

Of course, she can only do what Irish can do and he definitely can’t do makeup. The one time he tried for a Halloween party he looked like a melted Liza Minnelli waxwork.

“Okay, sure,” you reply.

You turn to face her and apply a thin coat to her lips. As you work, her sea-green eyes scan your face, the intensity of her gaze causing your hand to falter.

“Oops, hold on,” you say, correcting your mistake. For a brief second your eyes meet as your hand cups her face, your finger sliding under her bottom lip, your faces merely inches apart. Your pulse beats so loud and so hard that you worry she might hear it.

You pull your eyes away and clear your throat. “There we go, all done,” you say.

But she doesn’t move and neither do you. She holds you captivated in her gaze like a tractor beam.

“How are you girls getting on in here?” says Irish, sticking his head through the door. “You nearly ready? The cab is waiting downstairs.”

You jump as if caught red-handed. “Yes, all done here,” you say, a little too loud.

Robin rises and walks over to Irish, beginning to circle him. The two of them look each other up and down in the doorway like two wild cats sizing each other up.

She leans into his ear as she exits: “I’ll meet you two downstairs,” she says in a low voice. She pats him on the ass and gives you a wink as she leaves.

You hear the front door close behind her and throw Irish a shocked look.

“She is flirting with you!” you say, stating the obvious.

Irish scoffs: “From where I’m standing, it looks like she’s flirting with you!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you say, bending down to put on your shoes, hiding your blushing face from his eyes.

“Well, think about it,” he says. “I’m attracted to you, therefore it makes sense that she’d be attracted to you, too.”

“Yeah?” you say, standing now and facing him in the doorway. “Well, why is she apparently attracted to you too?”

Irish gives you a shrug, a guilty smirk passing over his lips. You nudge him in the ribs.

“Because you’re so fucking in love with yourself!” you say, only half-teasing.

Irish laughs, ruffling a hand through his curly hair. You roll your eyes at him and fold your arms with an exaggerated sigh.

“Look, everything’s going to be fine,” he says, holding you by the shoulders. “Let’s just go get a drink.”

“You were getting a blow job?” asks Robin, incredulous.

“The door just sort of swung open and I smacked my head on the wall. I was knocked out cold for a good few minutes. And when I woke up, well, there you were,” he says.

Robin turns to you with an open-mouthed expression.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you say, cringing. “I wish we had a better story to tell you.”

Her face creases and she releases a high-pitched laugh. “You guys are hilarious,” she says. “Do you do that a lot, sex acts in public places?”

Irish shrugs, opening his mouth to speak.

You cut him off before he can embarrass you further. “No!” you insist. “No, we don’t.”

The more drinks that are consumed, the more the conversation veers towards sex. Irish is being his usual giddy self, telling stories and making crude jokes. Robin, meanwhile, is becoming increasingly tactile, clasping your shoulder as she laughs, pressing her long fingers into your arm as she fires questions at you.

Her displays of affection seem to be making him territorial. Every time her hand brushes against your leg, his follows. Or perhaps they are just mirroring each other; echoing each other’s movements and mannerisms. Either way, you are sitting between them and it’s starting to make you feel like a baby goat in the tiger enclosure.

The worst part, you decide, is how alike they are. Robin seems to agree with everything he says, especially his drunken ideas. Stay out longer? Great idea. More shots? Great idea. Go to another bar? Great idea. You are outnumbered. And now everything is starting to get hazy and wobbly, furry around the edges.

“So, do you both have jobs? I know you’re a scientist, but what do you do?” asks Robin, gesturing to your boyfriend.

“I’m an actor,” Irish replies, puffing out his chest. “Been doing it since I was a kid.”

“Wow, that sounds like so much fun,” says Robin, her eyes widening. “I’d love to do something like that.”

“Of course you would,” you mutter under your breath.

“Did I say something wrong,” asks Robin.

Her brow furrows in the middle. You can see Irish glaring at you out of the corner of your eye. He thinks you’re being rude. You instantly feel bad for being crabby.

“No, honey, I’m sorry,” you say, reaching forward to clasp her knee. “It’s just… well, you two are so damn similar! It’s actually kind of infuriating.”

They both laugh at the same time, then look at you: “What’s the matter, are you feeling left out?” they say in perfect unison.

Realising their thoughts have synched, they immediately turn and point at each other: “Oh, we both said the same thing!” they say at the same time.

“Ok, stop that, it’s freaking me the fuck out,” you interrupt, not wanting to find out how long they can do that for.

They share a look, synapses firing at the same time, cogs turning in synchronicity. The chemistry between them, between the three of you, is palpable and it terrifies you as much as it excites you.

Robin looks at you, then at him.

“You know what I think, Irish?” says Robin, leaning her head towards you. “I think your girlfriend…”

“Our girlfriend,” he corrects.

“Our girlfriend,” she says, walking her fingers up your thigh, “needs to lighten up.”

Robin’s face is centimetres away now. Her eyes, at first locked on yours, float down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze again. She tilts her head slightly and you feel your breath deepening, your heart beginning to race in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

She shushes you gently as she cups your face, allowing her thumb to trail over your cheekbone.

“Just relax,” she whispers, bringing her mouth down on yours.

As her plump lips part yours, you are struck by how similar the experience of kissing her is to kissing him - only softer, gentler. And as her tongue inches across the inside of your lips, you feel him join in, trailing a string of delicate kisses down the side of your face, down your neck.

They each wind an arm around your body and you suddenly remember that you are in a public place, giving the patrons of this bar something to stare at. And they are staring - you feel their eyes boring into you as two hands belonging to two separate owners begin to pass over your legs.

Robin lifts her head, moving to your neck, and her mouth is replaced with his.

“Guys,” you say in between deepening kisses, your voice trembling, “we have to get out of here.”

They lift their heads and look at each other, then at you. “Great idea,” they say together.

REBLOGS FEED THE WRITER - PLEASE FEED ME! 🥺🤲

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[klaushargreevesluvr]

robert sheehan with long hair omg

[paranoiddreams]

GUYS STOP I am literally working on smth for Paddy rn and THIS MF DECIDES TO RUIN MY LIFE??? But fr, would anyone like some writing abt this manz?

[jessefandomunited]

Snowed in

This is a Shaun Falco x gn reader . Just fluff maybe some kissing

-you went up to the show with your boyfriend Shaun when all of a sudden a snow storm pulls in right as your about to leave, guess you have to snuggle in for one more night-

" well I think we're all packed" I sighed with finality . We had spent a good weekend in in the snow as a bit of a get away. The little town was cute and had lights and Christmas activities which we went to a lot of but I was a bit bummed we didn't spend much time in the actual snow , or alone .

. " let's go then love, " Shaun smiled bounding up to me, " or , we could make a few snow angels " before I could explain that we had a very long drive he was running across our rented yard and fell into the snow. I chucked and shrugged, I'll just make him drive.

I sprinted over to him and joined him on the ground flailing our arms to make the perfect wings and dress. When we staggered up we had put them so close that they were holding hands. " awwwww how cute," Shaun gushed rapping an arm around my shoulder and kissing my cheek. I rolled my eyes and said," yes that's very cute but we have a long drive" " come on we didn't get to play in the snow at all can't we wait an hour;" Shaun begged. I thought a bit remembering I did want to do this too, but the drive, screw it. " alright one hour."

We had an absolute blast. We made a snowman , rolled down a snow covered hill and had a very extensive snowball fight. It was so fun to just feel like a kid again, I had completely forgotten about our one hour limit till I looked up at the darkened sky. " shit Shaun how long have we been out here," I called. He ran over and checked his watch, "it's been two hours ." I was confused , till I saw snowflakes start falling ," oh." We both reflexively sank down to the ground and looked up as the snow fell, it was beautiful, like we were being teleported into another dimension. Then it picked up.

How the storm went from lazily falling to complete chaos was insane but we both had suddenly realized how cold we were and booked it for the cabin. I fumbled with the key in my numb hands and we pushed ourselves inside. When we did we heard the phone ringing. I snatched it off its cradle and said "hello yes" " oh no you're still there I had hoped you left like an hour ago," it was the caretaker of the cabin and she sounded increasingly worried," this storm it going to be here the rest of the day, and the snow plows won't be able to get out there till it clears up ." My heart sank, I had work tomorrow I would need to call in. " okay well thankyoy," I sighed. " of course please stay warm," she pressed. " we will," I hung up the phone and immediately filed the office. " what's happening," Shaun asked a bit sheepishly. " well looks like we get a free night here. He looked outside then back at me , a smile spread across his face. I chuckled ," go get the bags" he nodded bounding outside.

We were soon snuggled next to the fireplace wrapped in the fuzziest blanket I'd ever felt. We were just sitting there enjoying the fire after a wonderful meal of soup and hot coco.I turned to him and said, " you know I'm kind of glad that atom blew in we didn't get to do this the other days." He looked a bit surprised, " really? I thought you loved all that small town stuff." I shrugged ," I do but we did a lot. Maybe next time we can bring some books and take some more time alone reading and taking pictures ." His smile grew again," oh you know I love that darling." With that he kissed me, cupping my face gently . I tangled my fingers in his hair bringing him closer to me . As we laid there wrapped in eachother, we hadn't even noticed the snow had stopped.