#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

[bl00d-bunny]

Twat - Nathan Young

-pairing- nathan young x fem!reader

-summary- enemies to lovers with nathan young. for this request here

-warnings- none to my knowledge, please let me know if i missed anything.

-word count- 900.

-additional notes- different format than I'm used to so please bare with me, if it's not obvious i need to rewatch misfits, i feel like my writing for nathan is a lil rusty so i apologize. Also i'd be happy to expand on this in the future if thats something anybody wants :)

Anyways please enjoy!!

You always knew you’d eventually end up doing community service.

The courts had warned you enough times.

That didn’t stop you though.

So you knew that when you inevitably got stuck picking litter or volunteering, you’d just keep you’re head down and get on with it.

During the first few days on probation, you stayed quiet, you did what was asked of you with minimal effort and mostly watched the others.

You learned pretty quickly that none of them would become your friends, which was good, you weren’t there to make friends.

Immediately you noticed Nathan, it was hard not to.

He practically screamed for attention as he cracked jokes (sometimes at the expense of others)

Staying away from him was tricky, not that you didn’t try.

He noticed how quiet and reserved you were and it was as if he latched on to that.

You were opposites, which made you an easy target for him.

The others laughed while he made his jokes and you stayed quiet. All the while your anger burned inside of you.

He was making some stupid joke about Simon and you could tell no one found it funny.

No one laughed or said anything but he continued.

Until eventually you’d had reached your limit.

“Will you just give it a rest?!” you’ve had enough of his jokes, the dumb faces he makes, and just him in general.

“She speaks! She actually speaks!” he mocks shock.

“Seriously,” you turn to face him, “no one thinks your funny, you just look like a twat,”

Now everyone was watching to see what he would say.

But he didn’t say anything, he just shrugged and got back to work half-heartedly.

The rest of the day there was a weird atmosphere in the room.

No one really said anything and if they did it was in hushed whispers.

Almost everyone had left, and most of the lights in the building were off.

In the locker room, you were hanging up your hideous orange jumpsuit.

Nathan walked in, and neither of you said a thing.

Out of the corner of your eye you could he was looking at you, waiting for something.

You moved slower, anticipating whatever he was about to do.

“Do you really think I'm a twat?”

He was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him.

You turn to look at him, mouth agape, not sure what to say.

“Honestly…” you look at the floor, “yeah,”

He doesn’t say anything, you look at him, and he nods gently before leaving.

Quickly you grab your bag and slam your locker shut before chasing after him.

Out in the hallway, you look left and right but don't see him.

You wander around looking for him for a while but give up after you realise you don’t know what you would say if you found him.

The next day you get to the community centre early.

After dawning your orange ensemble you start heading to wait outside when you hear a door slam in the distance.

When you arrived there were no cars in the car park, you’d thought you were alone.

Looking around for a weapon you settled on a mop. Not the best weapon you know but it was the best you could do.

Taking a deep breath you head towards the direction of the noise.

You hear more banging and rattling. Your heart is beating in your ears.

Your hands sweat around the wooden handle of the mop.

Turning the corner, eyes squeezed shut, you hold the mop above your head, ready to swing.

“HEY HEY HEY WATCH OUT!!”

 You open your eyes. A few inches from the end of the mop is Nathan, hands held up in surrender.

You lower the mop, “I’m sorry,”

You try to catch your breath, your heart still beating wildly.

He bends down to pull something from the vending machine.

A few days ago he had shown everyone his vending machine ‘trick’ which involved shaking and kicking the machine until it delivered him a treat.

You knew the was the source of the commotion.

“Want some breakfast?” he held up the candy bar he’d retrieved

You shook your head.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, it was still early and you didn’t think he’d be one for timeliness.

“I nicked some pick n mix,” he said sincerely

You shook your head again.

“No, why are you here so early?”

“I’m getting breakfast, obviously,” he rolled his eyes as he began opening the chocolate bar.

“So you came here early to shake some shitty chocolate from the vending machine?” you weren’t buying his story.

“I’ll have you know this a delicious breakfast,”

“Whatever,” you shrugged leaving him to sit and wait for the others to arrive.

After finishing his ‘breakfast’ he started shaking the machine again.

You couldn’t stand the racket so you walked over and put some change in the machine before walking away leaving him to choose.

You sat picking at your nails, suddenly wishing you hadn’t come so early.

Nathan came and sat next to you.

“Here’s your change,” he held out his hand with a few pennies.

“Keep it,”

He pocketed the change before starting on his second candy bar.

“I’m sorry I called you a twat,” you said eventually.

“S’okay,” he shrugged “I am a twat,”

You smiled “yeah, sometimes”

“Oh only sometimes now?” He nudged you

“Don’t push your luck,” smiling to yourself you looked down.

[klaushargreevesluvr]

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

[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.

[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 3: Next Stop at The End of Time

Warning: Strong language, mild sexual content, death, talk of addiction

(The Eighth Child Masterlist)

Victoria was scared to walk inside. Partially because the place was condemned and could crumble on them just like when Viktor started having a fit back in the day, but also because she didn't know what to expect. Ben was there and Five said it was her Ben, but what if it wasn't? Last time she had any contact with him, they were fighting for their lives, right before he disappeared forever. It was hard to believe he would simply waltz back into their lives.

All of the doubt and the nerves disappeared the moment she laid eyes on him and realized that was her brother. It wasn't the same as looking at the knockoff Sparrow version, it was a bond that survived time, death, and several ends of the world.

"Ben!" She screamed when the door opened and she ran into his arms crying. "Bennie Boo, I missed you so much, oh my... where have you been?"

"Another timeline," he chuckled and hugged his sister. "Someone told me you married Klaus! How insane is that?"

"I know, I know... it's crazy, but you'll get used to it," she laughed, drying her tears. "You need to meet my daughter, her name is Fortune. We gave her the middle name Bennie."

"That's so sweet... ugh too sweet, you're gonna make me emotional! I didn't think you'd ever forgive me after I made Klaus kiss Jill," he sighed.

"Oh, that? That was a billion years ago, I swear I don't resent you at all for that. It was your chance and you took it, I would've done the same. You need to visit my bakery! The Ben special on my menu is your favorite, torta holandesa."

"With Calipso cookies on the rim?" he chuckled.

"Of course, it's not torta holandesa without Calipso cookies on the rim!" She squeezed him tighter and covered his cheek in kisses. "And when our youngest is born, you have to be there! We'll know very soon if it's a boy or a girl! I have so much to tell you, just... so much."

"Are they always so gross? Good thing she hates me," Sparrow Ben scoffed. "Helloooo, we're all in danger?"

"Oh fuck, yeah," Victoria swallowed nervously, trying to catch her breath. Okay, so what I know is that Abigail, Dad's wife, somehow disguised herself as Sy Grossman and gave us the marigold hoping we'd take it. You're very welcome for that, by the way, we'd be very screwed if I let you do that. Then her plan was that we'd look for Jennifer, who has some sort of anti-marigold in her called durango. Once those two substances interact, horrible things happen... the cleanse. Which from what she said is just killing everyone."

"If it's so dangerous for marigold and durango to interact, that's why Dad locked Jennifer away, which means he didn't know about his wife's plan," Five said.

"He didn't, she said she was doing that because she didn't ask to be brought back to life and blah blah blah," Victoria rolled her eyes. "She created these elements and she wants them to stop existing via the cleanse. In a way, Ben saved all of humanity when his tentacles killed Jennifer and himself that night, this reaction had already started. I remember the glowing rash on his arm, of course he couldn't just leave an innocent girl to be destroyed even though that's what Dad told us to do."

"Good thing I died that once then," Ben tilted his head, thinking. "So the cleanse would be like... a monster that carries the seeds of its own destruction? Kills everyone and then itself?"

"Exactly. Maybe if we got Jennifer to drink some marigold, the cleanse would happen in a contained environment and end this nightmare," Victoria suggested.

"I don't think there is containing the monster, don't you remember what happened the first time?" Luther murmured, giving Ben a look.

"I guess we should first figure out how to get the timelines to merge and leave us with one," Five pinched the bridge of his nose. He was definitely too old to be dealing with that sort of stress.

"Oh easy then," Lila joked.

"There are portals all over the place, we could go down there and try to decode the map. Find a way to shut down the train, anything," Ben said.

"He might be right, we should go down there and see who's in command of the train," Diego nodded. "Let's go."

"Hey guys... I sort of can't," Victoria murmured. "I need to look for Klaus, I think he might have relapsed. We had a big fight and... I need to get him back."

"Can't this wait?" Sparrow Ben grunted.

"No, it actually can't. My husband might be in danger and I don't care if he's a junkie or a germophobe, I love him. I should've never said that him getting clean was the worst thing that happened to me."

"That's harsh..." Allison mumbled.

"Shut the fuck up! I'm already very sad!"

"Alright, we'll go and meet here again ASAP, once we're all together, we fix this shit," Five walked to the door, but Vicky stopped him.

"I need your gun."

"What?"

"I need it, if Klaus is with some sort of dealer or gang member, I need the gun to protect myself and him."

"Unbelievable," he handed her the revolver. "Bring it back without a scratch, that's company property."

**

"I see a huge change in your future, it seems a few people who are holding you down will finally be out of your way... it'll hurt, but you need to let go to make way for your new and improved life," Klaus looked at the tarot cards.

"Should I start the new business then?" The lady in front of him asked.

"Definitely, I see hard times in the beginning, but look," he picked up one of the cards. "Prosperity in the future if you persist."

"Thank you so much," she gave him the payment for the session.

"No, thank you, my dear," he smiled, counting the money.

The lady left and Quinn came in followed by another woman, a beautiful woman in a skimpy outfit.

"Moneeeey!" Klaus cheered. "Here, now you know I intend on paying my debt, so please let me go home. My daughter is waiting, my wife must be worried sick..."

"Nice try, but you're not leaving until the 40k is paid," Quinn grabbed the money. "This is for food, rent, supplies, the stuff you took last night... now you choose, my little star."

He held up ten bucks or a little packet with a couple of pills.

Klaus sighed defeated and took the pills before looking at the woman by the door. "Come on in, let's start your reading, yeah?"

"She's not here for a reading," Quinn chuckled and tossed a strip of condoms at him. "She's here for your other services. Five hundred an hour."

"Wait no no no! I have a wife, I can't do this! I have a family! No offense to this beautiful lady, but..."

"You'll do your job until your debt is paid!"

"Don't worry, you'll like it," the woman placed her hand on Klaus' chest. "I love feminine men, you're so cute."

"So does my wife! I'm sorry, I can't! I can't!" Klaus pleaded while she tried to take his clothes off.

"That's just too damn bad, isn't it?" Quinn huffed while closing the door.

"Too damn bad indeed, too bad you can't take no for an answer," Victoria pointed the gun at him. She had seen that place before, she knew that's where Klaus came to get drugs.

"Who are you?" He raised his hands.

"The wife. Now you can let my husband go or you can go ahead and meet your maker."

"That's cute... do you even know how to shoot? You're some dumb housewife with her daddy's gun."

It had been a while since Victoria experienced that intoxicating feeling, being underestimated because she looked so delicate and docile when she knew she had the power to end that person's life.

"You wanna take the chance?" She smirked.

"You haven't killed a roach in your life, Freckles..."

"Yeah, I haven't," she faked defeat. "But I have killed dozens of people."

Without waiting, she shot him in the head and immediately reached into his pocket to get his gun so he wouldn't try to retaliate in his last moments.

"Piece of shit... girls! You can all go!" She screamed at the young ladies in tiny rooms, probably just as helpless as her husband.

She then opened the door with both guns ready to shoot. The woman, who was still trying to grind against Klaus, let out a yelp and backed away.

"Never touch my man again or I'll put a bullet in your fucking head too! Scram!"

"Victoria!" Klaus was crying tears of happiness, relief, and guilt. "Victoria, my Liebling, my baby! I'm so sorry..."

He ran into her arms and she embraced him too. He felt like a failure for relapsing, but she was ready to help.

"No, no I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of that stuff, I should've helped you get over your fear, I should've been more empathetic."

"I should've tried harder, looked for therapy. I also said a bunch of shit I didn't mean, I'm sorry. I yelled at Fortune, I'm such a shit dad..."

"No you're not, you're the best dad ever, you just need help," she smiled sadly. "Tunnie is okay, she's with Claire and Ray."

"So you still love me?"

"Of course I do, I looked for you all night and just killed a man because I love you."

"Help me get clean again? Help me be a better Klaus that you can be attracted to again?"

"Of course," she kissed him softly. "We need to meet the others, there's a whole timeline bullshit going on, I'll explain on the way... but hey! Ben is back! Our Ben!"

"Really? Oh my..." Klaus grinned. "We'll go, we'll go. There's just a place I need to go first."

**

Victoria drove Klaus to the nearest AA meeting. He really wanted to do things right this time.

The moment he entered the room, there was nobody there except for the chairwoman, who was already gathering her things.

"The meeting is canceled," she said. "Nobody's here."

"I'm here," Klaus shrugged.

"Take a pamphlet..."

"What's your name?"

"Stephanie."

"Stephanie, listen, I've been to enough court-ordered rehab to know that if one person shows up, it's a meeting. You might make a motion to adjourn, but I'm not seconding and I've had one hell of a slip, and I'm not leaving until I get my one day chip."

"Fine... sit," Stephanie shook her head, pulling out a binder.

"Well, my name is Klaus-"

"Ah ah, no. If we're gonna stick to the rules, we'll stick to the rules," she started reading from the binder. "Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of people who share their experience, strengths..."

"It's very important, I know, and you've said it a thousand times. I've heard it a thousand times, can we get to the part where we share?"

"The floor is now open for sharing," she tried not to laugh. "You have two minutes! No more than that."

"Wonderful!" Klaus clapped and raised his hand.

"Alright, how about you?"

"Moi?" She faked surprise. "Thank you Steph, I can call you Steph, right?"

"No."

"Okay... powerlessness... it's all there on the first step, little words on the page, but I never knew what it really meant until I screamed at my pregnant wife, screamed at my child, and took her Barbie cash to only then be forcefully pimped out by a psycho who I owed money to..." He sat down. "Before that, I had three years clean, three whole years. The problem was I was trying to do it all by myself. Staying in my safe little bubble, scared of death, scared of life... scared of life and taking it out on the people who love me the most, one of whom is sitting outside by the way."

"Hey!" Victoria waved through the door. "You go, Babe!"

"That's my wife slash sister," he whispered.

"I'm not gonna ask," Stephanie breathed.

"So I'm saying it for the first time in my life without irony..." he took a deep breath. "That my name is Klaus and I'm an alcoholic. I'm also a complete drug addict. And while we're at it, I'm probably also addicted to love, and sex. Which has been tough cause I haven't gotten laid much since I went totally nuts and my wife stopped being attracted to me because I became insanely boring. I don't even know how I got her pregnant again..."

"Hey, I'm so sorry to interrupt," Victoria opened the door again. "Can he get his chip? We really need to go right now! Claire just said she just got visited by a woman claiming to be Grandma who took Fortune away when she wasn't looking. I already called Five, we're going to see Dad."

"Shit, my daughter!" Klaus took the one day chip and ran off. "Thanks for the help, Steph!"

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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[ded-and-gonne]

Thank you, Sheehab

[girl-bateman]

"Simon somehow convinces Nathan to join his melodramatic short film project and Nathan, annoyed and a little aroused by Simon's new and bossy director persona, is slowly driven to insanity."

Chapter 3 is out! >>

[klaushargreevesluvr]

robert sheehan with long hair omg

[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.