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#Robert Sheehan rpf
salvador-daley · 1 year
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Clone | Part 1
Robert Sheehan x Reader x Female!Robert Sheehan | 🍆🍑👀
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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.
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“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.
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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?”
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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
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super-unpredictable98 · 10 months
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Midnight Strikes (Robert Sheehan RPF)
Word Count: 1,1 k
Warning: strong language
a/n: Just letting everyone who left me a request know, I'm working on them and thank you so much for all the lovely ideas <3
(Masterlist)
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I can't wait to get out of here, it's so fuckin hot!
Your boyfriend texted around seven. It was your one year anniversary, but he had to work. Of course you understood, his job was demanding, but he loved it and so did you. Robert was meant to be home by eight, so you had everything ready for the celebration. 
There was a lasagna ready to go in the oven, homemade garlic bread, and cake for dessert. You prepared the bathroom with candles and a bath bomb so he could relax after dinner, the whole flat was spotless and you picked his favorite dress to wear. 
Twenty minutes passed, you put your romantic dish in the oven and set a timer before heading to the bedroom to get ready. The dress was blue and looked like something Donna would wear in Mamma Mia, very light and flowy. The makeup you chose was very simple and discreet, and the hair was also not too extravagant. You even got a new set of lingerie matching the dress for the occasion. 
Rob's gift was waiting for him on the sofa, a few books he'd been talking about in the last few months.
You waited until the lasagna was done and turned the oven off, leaving it in there so it would be nice and warm. You checked if the champagne you got for the celebration was chilled and set the table. 
When it was all prepared, you looked at the time on your phone, it was 8:05. You grinned in anticipation, deciding where you wanted to sit to wait for your boyfriend who should be coming through the door very soon.
Unfortunately, that's not how it went... 8:05 turned into 8:45, turned into 9:20, turned into 10:00. By then the lasagna was for sure cold and it wasn't even time for dinner anymore. 
You sent texts during this time, but there was no response, which elicited a mix of worry and anger stirring in your chest, adding to the hunger that was pretty bad already. 
Finally, at 10:25 the door opened and Rob walked in looking like hell. He was sweaty (more than usual), his hair was messy, there was eyeliner smeared around his eyes and he grunted as he usually did when his back was in pain. 
"So nice of you to join..." you said, looking up from your book 
"Shit, I knew I was late but I didn't know it was that bad," he checked his phone. "I didn't even see it, I just ran as fast as I could when they said I could go home, the tube was packed."
"There's bath stuff in the bathroom, but the candles are probably all melted by now," you folded your arms, absolutely furious even if you knew it wasn't his fault. 
Robert left his shoes by the door, walked up to the couch, and sat on the floor in front of you. He had that puppy look on his face, but didn't talk at first, knowing you probably had more to say.
"I worked on this shit all day for us to have a nice time and celebrate, by the time you're done with your shower and everything else we'll have an hour left in our anniversary at best!" Your voice cracked as you spilled the words. "That isn't fair, I know it was work and you didn't have a choice, I'm just frustrated! I already have to share you with the world, I can't even get a proper anniversary dinner."
He listened quietly as you let out your anger and on your own arrived to the conclusion that there was nothing he could've done to make things different if he wanted to keep his job. He then made sure you were done before taking your hands in his and kissing each knuckle. 
"I understand how frustrating that is, I'm sorry things didn't work out."
"I know... I am too," you sighed, seeing him so calm kinda forced you to calm down as well, it was quite nice actually.
"If you wanna celebrate another day with something different, I get it. But if you'd like to try, I can shower really quickly and we can have our dinner. Tomorrow I have the day off and I'm not leaving your side. I'll even hold your hand as you go to the toilet."
You laughed, he just knew how to de-escalate the situation. He wasn't always like that, but the talent to make you no longer mad was definitely there. 
Robert took a shower and changed into something nice, not a suit, but nice by his hippie standards. He even put on a scarf and fixed his hair to look just the way you like it. 
"You look so handsome," you smiled, holding out the gift box for him. "I hope you like it."
He opened it and his eyes lit up. "Thank you, y/n! So comforting to know you're listening when I'm rambling about books and movies and shit," he chuckled. "Now it's my turn."
Rob opened his bag by the door and pulled out a plastic bag, not a very promising wrapping job, but when you opened it, you forgot all about that. Inside there was the white and blue coat Klaus wears for season two of Umbrella Academy. Every detail was perfect, even the embroidery work. 
"Robbie! This is so beautiful, I can't believe you did this."
"You always mention how much you love these outfits so I had a replica made in your size," he grinned proudly. "I was between this and the black furry one from season one, but I'll get that one for your birthday."
You pulled him into a fierce hug, he really put so much care into it, he certainly looked forward to this night as much as you did. Suddenly, the time didn't matter anymore, all that mattered was that he was there.
"Thanks for being understanding today," Rob murmured, taking your hand as he happily ate his dinner. He was clearly starved from waiting so long.
"It wasn't your fault, don't worry about it."
"Hey, can I tell you a secret?" He asked with a little smirk.
"What?" You chuckled, half expecting some joke or gag, but he just took your hand and brought it to his lips again. 
"It was past midnight when I asked you to be my girlfriend." 
"What? No it wasn't!" You gasped.
He nodded as he chewed, completely sure of what he was saying. "I'm serious, my bedside clock was wrong, I remember cause I had to change it after I was late for work the next day. So technically, it's still our anniversary."
"Oh... happy anniversary then." 
"Happy anniversary, love."
Tag List: @salvador-daley @seanfalco @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @badsext
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20 questions for fic writers
tagged by: @merrilark
how many works do you have on ao3? None. but i do a large percentage of my fic reading on ao3. my acc is ells_bells
what's your total ao3 word count? uhhh also none
what fandoms do you write for? uhh ive written for my hero academia, a good amount of robert sheehan's cinematography, corpse bride, heaven's design team, dream daddy, and uhhh nijisanji en but finna drop a fuu-chan fic soon
what are your top 5 fics by kudos? uhhhhhhhh idk
do you respond to comments? why or why not? yes, i respond to comments when i get them. they make me giggle and kick my feet and i gobble them up.
what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? none of my fics have an angsty ending, besides the shitty two-shot i did of robert RPF where they never saw each other again after hooking up
what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i like the lucien one bc i was feenin for a relationship at the time and just needed it. but any of the nsfw fics where any character has any satisfaction is a good ending to me
do you get hate on any fics? no
do you write smut? if so, what kind? egregious, down bad, horrifically horny smut
do you write crossovers? whats the craziest one you've written? the only crossover i think i wrote was klaus x luba x reader (sensual soliloquies), and that one wasn't even crazy. thats 100% a possibility to happen
have you ever had a fic stolen? no, i have not. im happy i havent. bc the thought makes me go????
have you ever had a fic translated? no, not that i know of.
have you ever co-written a fic before? no.
what's your all-time favorite ship? i have So Many. just ask me and i will scream.
what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? ummm the desire fic i started writing. when the sandman comes back, i may find the hyperfixation energy to finish it, but im not finishing it rn.
what are your writing strengths? um. idk. i know my writing is considered good....but idk why. mutuals pls inform me as to why. maybe my detailing?? idk
what are your writing weaknesses? dialogue description
thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i think its neat. but sometimes im like "ok this could be better" (see some of the miguel o' hara fics written with fuckshit spanglish)
first fandom you wrote for? i think it either the flash or harry potter.
favorite fic you've written? the one im about to post.
tagging with no obligation: @seancekitsch, @super-unpredictable98
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zigzagwriting · 2 years
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Please Read!
Hi I’m Z I’m 20 years old, and my pronouns are She/They. This is my fun little side blog where I write about the characters and stories that I love!
Anon ask is turned on but if this becomes a problem I will turn it off. But don’t be afraid to send requests or to say hello! (I’m super chill I promise)
I will turn down any request that makes me uncomfortable and or one’s I simply do not want to do.
Minors are NOT allowed on my page.
(Breaking this rule will result in you getting blocked)
Characters and Fandoms I will write for:
Criminal Minds
Spencer Reid
Emily Prentiss
Penelope Garcia
Marvel
Loki
Wanda Maximoff
Kingo, Thena, and Sersi from Eternals
Natasha Romanoff
Andrew Garfield’s Peter Parker
Adult!Miles Morales
Feel free to ask about any other MCU character!
I will write for most characters played by these actors
Pedro Pascal
Adam Driver
Robert Sheehan
Tom Hiddleston
Karen Gillan
Megan Fox
Pete Davidson
Margot Robbie
Keanu Reeves
Elizabeth Olsen
Zendaya
Rami Malek
Doctor Who
every regeneration of The Doctor from NewWho
Dhawan!Master
Dhawan!Doctor (he’s one of my favorite AUs)
Amy Pond
Clara Oswald
Donna Noble
River Song
Bill Potts
Other characters can be negotiable
Miscellaneous characters and fandoms
Dewy Finn and Beetlejuice from School of Rock the Musical and Beetlejuice the Musical (I’m really just a sucker for characters played by Alex Brightman)
Eddie Munson from Stranger Things
Peter Maximoff from X Men Days of Future Past and X Men Apocalypse
Zach Stone from Zach Stone Is Gonna Be Famous
Jennifer Check from Jennifer’s Body (aged up only)
Carrie White from Carrie (aged up only)
Tiffany Valentine from the Chucky franchise
Again other characters and fandoms are negotiable
Things I will write
NSFW
SFW
Angst
Fluff
Hurt/Comfort
Character x reader x Character
Female!Reader
Gender Neutral!Reader
Things I will not write for
Non-con
Any hardcore fetishes (you can DM me for clarification on this one!)
This is common sense but I will not write anything to do with Incest, Pedophilia/MAPs, Bestiality, Rape, or anything related. Asking for this stuff will get you blocked immediately
Age play (daddy/mommy kink is fine)
Homophobia
RPF/ Real People Fiction (the only way I will do this is if it is portrayed in a platonic context)
I will not stand for any form of racism, homophobia, or bigotry and I am not afraid to use the block button
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theflyingfeeling · 2 years
Note
Have you ever watched Misfits? The juvenile delinquents that end up on community service and get super powers in a freak storm? That would be a perfect AU if you feel up to it! 😊
I LOVED Misfist! At least until most of the original cast was still there 😅 I would so much like to come up with an original plot for this but I'm afraid supernatural things are not my speciality and I'm completely drawing a blank with coming up with new superpowers for the guys, so I hope you won't mind if I just use the ones from the show instead?
Feel free to add your ideas for Misfits-like shenanigans!
I'm gonna say Joel as "Kelly" with the power of telepathy, because he's obsessed about knowing what people think about him (his character in this AU, that is, not real life Joel) 👀
Olli as "Curtis" with the power to turn back time so that he can at least try and save all those bass guitars he addicentally destroyed 😂
Tommi as "Simon" with the power to turn invisible, because he sometimes he's just tired of everyone's bullshit 😑
Niko as "Alisha" with the convenient power to turn people on (seuxually) with a snap of his fingers 🥵 (although this could easily be anyone of them tbh)
Joonas as the immortal "Nathan" (and just like with Nathan, the immortality is turned off when he's intoxicated, which is ironic and inconvenient, as that's exactly when he most needs his superpower (and the more drunk he is, the less he remembers he's no longer immortal)) 💀
aaaaand Aleksi as "Rudy" with the ability to split himself half to his two personas Aleksi Kaunisvesi and Alex Mattson 👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻
And I suppose we should address the reasons why they're in community service? Why, Joel crashed his stepfather's car out of frustration and pettiness, Olli accidentally stole someone's bike, Tommi took part in a pub fight, Niko participated in a riot, Joonas was nude in public, and Aleksi keeps "forgetting" to buy his meals at restaurants
And who else but Santeri would be their probation officer? 😆 He really has the worst job in the world..
Plotlines include 1) Joel persuading Olli to go back in time to put something in Joel's stepfather's morning coffee. Olli feels awful about this, but seeing the way the man treats his family, Olli starts pitying Joel (even more than he did already) and oohhhhh feelings evolve!! 🥺 2) Tommi not understanding why Aleksi would want to be two people at once, when Tommi is sometimes tired of being just one person. What's worse, both of Aleksi's personas are ridiculously charming 😰 3) Niko and Joonas being a match made in hell, with Niko's immense flirting and Joonas' tendency to get naked. Poor Santeri the probation officer swears he'll quit if he walks in on the two of them going at it in the locker room one more time
And speaking of Santeri? He was also granted a superpower in the storm, namely that of never-ending patience 😂 (so he'll never actually quit)
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Drabble Masterlist!
 Thank you everyone for your submissions!
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The 200 Followers Drabble Event
* smut, **really smutty, ***filthy smut
Klaus
Chiming Doors*** (S2 Klaus x Fem!Reader smut)
Howling (S1 Klaus x Reader angst & fluff)
Leather & Lace (S1 Klaus x Fem!Reader angst & fluff)
Saigon** (S1 Klave smut & fluff)
Saigon Deux** (S1 Klave smut and fluff)
Saigon Trois*** (S1 Klave smut and fluff)
Saigon Quatre (S1 Klaus super-angsty headcanon)
Chaos, In a Nutshell (S1 Klaus & Ben funny headcanon)
Spiteful Catastrophe (S1 Klaus AU headcanon)
One Thing at a Time (S2 Klaus headcanon fluff)
Post Prandium* (Klaus x reader steam)
Vincent
Little Boy Blue (Vincent x Fem!Reader angst & fluff)
So Soft** (Vincent x Fem!Reader smut)
Rudis Interruptus (Vincent x Fem!Reader fluff)
Hell is for Horses (Vincent x Fem!Reader fluff)
No Rest for the Wicked** (Vincent x Fem!Reader smut)
Nathan
Slippery When Wet (Nathan x Reader comedy)
Snog & Mix (Nathan x Reader fluff)
A Nice Crescendo*** (Nathan x Fem!Reader smutty smut smut)
Digits*** (Nathan x Fem!Reader smut)
Sean Falco
Quarantine* (Sean x Reader light smut)
Tom
Combustible** (Tom x Fem!Reader smut, angst & fluff)
Aether (Tom x Reader, fluff)
Horizons (Tom x Fem!Reader fluff)
AU!Robert (AN: I don’t do RPF smut anymore; only fluff or PG headcanons)
Adirondacks (Just a little Robert headcanon)
Double Standard (Robert x Fem!Reader fluff)
© Robert Sheehan Owns My Ass
105 notes · View notes
bisexualnathanyoung · 3 years
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Would anyone be interested in starting a Robert Sheehan fan server on discord with me? The only thing about it that I think would make y'all not want to join is that I would ask for rpf fics to not be promoted in it simply because they make me kind of uncomfortable but you would still be allowed to join if you write them since Rob doesn't internet very often so probably doesn't know they exist anyway and has never said anything pubically about not wanting them existing. Just a personal preference for me. I'd definitely have some channels for promoting character fics though! The rules wouldn't be super strict or anything, but I would like discourse about real life events to be kept to a minimum as I feel like that's what causes the most drama. Tagging some peeps I think might be interested!
@sean-falco @misskittysmagicportal @super-unpredictable98 @elliethesuperfruitlover @anglophile-rin @midnightseance @firstpersonnarrator @robertsheehanownsmyass @magic-multicolored-miracle @robbosvgdens
(if I didn't tag you and you think "wow I interact with their posts a lot wtf lmao" it's just because I would lose my own head if it weren't attached and as soon as you respond I'm gonna be like oh shit I feel bad now lmao. I also didn't tag some people who don't post a lot pubically just because I didn't want to make them uncomfortable.)
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hargrieve · 3 years
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hargrieve’s fic recs — november
i’ve had a very rough virtual semester and reading new fic has definitely helped. i want to give thanks and some shout-outs to these authors, whose works have been getting me through everything :) i read a lot of ships so there’s a whole potpourri of fic down below
(this is probably going to be a twice-a-month post in order to keep the post from getting too long, bc i don’t want to put anyone’s works under a cut. this particular post is for the second half of november)
FANDOMS: ATLA, UMBRELLA ACADEMY (+RPF)
avatar: the last airbender & the legend of korra:
Petition to Get the Gaang A Braincell 2k20 by avatays and thelostcolony @stupidbihours @f-ro-g
sukka, kataang, zukki; misc; rated T+; 74k words; 25/?
the gaang as youtubers — mostly a twitter/social media/transcript fic
i’ve already posted about this fic before but it’s so GOOD. the characters are hilarious and so well-written and they bring such a ✨healthy✨ dynamic. every update is a little boost of serotonin. i rate 12/10
Celebrity Status series by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee @deerstalkerdeathfrisbee
korrasami, mako/wu, bolin/opal; rated T+; 10k words; 3/?
korra’s team avatar as current celebrities/former disney channel stars. social media fic
this one is adorable and funny and hijinks-y. i love celebrity krew, scientist opal, and long-suffering normal guy mako so much
umbrella academy (and RPF)
starless eyes remain by heyshalina @themostexcellentfinder
gen; rated T+; 22k words; 1/1
ben hargreeves character study, canon, non-linear
HONESTLY I CANNOT RECOMMEND THIS ENOUGH. this cracked open my ben-loving heart and put it back together a hundred times. i think this is some of the best, most soul-crushing, heart-breaking ben internal monologue i’ve ever read
café zero by yukiawison
klaus/dave, vanya/sissy, ben/jill; 17k words; 2/?
they fixed the apocalypse and the hargreeves open a cafe :)
what it says on the tin but even better. they’re so soft? the sibling dynamics are so healthy?? this is the ideal content please give it to me in canon
lights, camera by TheWrongKindOfPC
david castaneda/robert sheehan; rated T+; 9k words; 1/1
david and robert developing a relationship during season 1 filming
cute and well-written and capture the tone of the actors (or at least their public personas)
@ authors, if you do not want me to put your work here, please let me know and i will take down the rec asap!!!!
send me an ask if you have a fic rec for me to put here :)
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sun-blessed · 4 years
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An Updated, comprehensive-ish list of my muses under the cut
Louis Charles. Fandom - historical rpf. Son of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Age - late teens to mid 20′s. He/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Lucky Blue Smith.
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Marie Therese. Fandom - historical rpf. Oldest child of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Mid to late 20′s. She/her pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Pyper America Smith. 
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Sophie Beatrix. Historical rpf. Youngest child of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Late teens to early 20′s. She/her pronouns and a lesbian. Faceclaim is Daisy Clementine Smith.
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Marie Antoinette. Historical rpf. Wife of Louis XVI and Queen of France prior to the revolution. Late 20′s to late 30′s. She/her pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is Kirsten Dunn. 
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Louis XVI. Historical rpf. King of France prior to the Revolution. Late 20′s to late 30′s. He/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Jason Schwartzmann. 
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Louis XIV. Versaille/historical rpf. King of France during the later half of the 17th century. Also called the Sun King. Early 20′s to late 30′s. He/him pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is George Blagden. 
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Philippe d’Orleans. Versaille/historical rpf. Brother of Louis XIV and Prince of France. Early 20′s to Early 30′s. He/him pronouns and gay. Faceclaim is Alexander Vlahos. 
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Chavalier de Lorraine. Versaillle/historical rpf. Lover of Prince Philippe. Mid 20′s to late 30′s. He/him pronouns and gay. Faceclaim is Evan Williams. 
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Elizabeth Charlotte (Liesolotte). Fandom - Versaille/Historical rpf. Philippe’s wife. Age - around 20′s to early 30′s. She/her pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is Jessica Clark.
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Zoe de Bourbon. Historical rpf. Adopted daughter of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI. Age - around late teens to early 20′s. She/her pronouns and pansexual (mostly attracted to girls). Faceclaim is Zendaya.
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Ernestine de Bourbon. Historical rpf. Adopted daughter of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI. Age - usually mid to late 20′s (same age as Marie Therese). She/her pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is Starlie Cheyenne Smith.
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Destin Michaels. Original merman character. Transgender man. Wears prosthetic legs, and uses hearing aids. Knows sign language as well. Age - usually late teens to early 20′s. He/him pronouns and gay (attracted to men only). Faceclaim is Lucky Blue Smith.
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Novah Michaels. OC mermaid. Destin’s twin sister. Completely deaf and communicates with sign language, but can also read lips. She/her pronouns and bisexual (attracted mostly to men). Faceclaim is Pyper America Smith.
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Billy Kaplan. Marvel Comics. Also known as Wiccan. Usually late teen to early 20′s. He/him pronouns and gay. Faceclaim is Cole Sprouse
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Benjamin Hargreeves (Number 6). The Umbrella Academy. Technically a ghost who died as a child but appears as early 20′s. He/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Justin H. Min.
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Klaus Hargreeves (Number 4). The Umbrella Academy. Mid to late 20′s’early 30′s. Genderfluid with changing pronouns (usually they/them) and pansexual. Faceclaim is Robert Sheehan.
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Draco Malfoy. Harry Potter. Mid teens through 20′s. He/him pronouns and bisexual. Facecaim is Tom Felton. 
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Thor Odinson. Marvel Comics/Marvel Cinematic Universe. Really fucking old (exact age unknown, appears mid 30′s). He/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Chris Hemsworth.
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Loki Odinson. Marvel. Also fucking old (appears 30′s). Genderfluid but he/him pronouns and pansexual. Faceclaim is Tom Hiddleston.
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Brunnhilde (Valkyrie). Marvel. Same as Thor and Loki. She/her pronouns and bisexual (prefers girls). Faceclaim is Tessa Thompson.
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Peter Parker (Spider-Man). Marvel. Late teens to early 20′s. Trans man with he/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Tom Holland.
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Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel). Marvel. Late 20′s. She/her pronouns and Lesbian. Faceclaim is Bree Larson.
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Jaime Lannister. Game of Thrones. Late 20′s to mid 30′s. He/him pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is Nicolaj Coster-Waldau.
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Brienne of Tarth. Game of Thrones. Mid to late 20′s. She/her pronouns and bisexual (prefers men). Faceclaim is Gwendoline Christie.
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Sansa Stark. Game of Thrones. Late teens to early 20′s. She/her pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Sophie Turner.
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Hades. Greek Mythology. Age unknown but appears late 20′s to early 30′s. He/him pronouns and mostly straight. Faceclaim is Ian Somerhalder. 
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Apollo. Greek Mythology. Age unknown but appears early to mid 20′s. He/him pronouns and pansexual. Faceclaim is Jedidiah Goodacre.
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Artemis. Greek Mythology. Appears early to mid 20′s. She/her pronouns and a lesbian. Faceclaim is Cara Delevingne.
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Nico di Angelo. Percy Jackson Series. Appears late teens to early 20′s. He/him pronouns and gay. Faceclaim is Finn Wolfhard. 
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Evelyn Trevelyan. Dragon Age/OC. Originally an Inquisitor OC. Early 20′s. She/her and bisexual. Faceclaim is Natalie Dormer.
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Aurelia Tabris. Dragon Age/OC. Originally a Warden OC. Early 20′s. She/her and a lesbian. Faceclaim is Hayley Kiyoko.
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Anthony J. Crowley. Good Omens. Demon. Age unknown (on earth at least 6000 years). Gender less but he/him pronouns and pansexual. Faceclaim is David Tennant.
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Kate Bishop. Marvel. Late teens to early 20′s. She/her pronouns and a lesbian. Faceclaim is Arden Cho.
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Jessica Jones. Marvel. Late 20′s to early 30′s. She/her pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Krysten Ritter.
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Taako. The Adventure Zone: Balance. Unknown but young adult elf. He/him pronouns and gay. Faceclaim TBD.
Aubrey Little. The Adventure Zone: Amnesty. Late teens to early 20′s. She/her pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim TBD. 
Geralt of Rivia. The Witcher. Age unknown, appears mid to late 30′s. He/him pronouns and mostly straight. Faceclaim is Henry Cavill. 
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Jaskier. The Witcher. He/him pronouns and bisexual. Age - late 20′s to early 30′s. Faceclaim is Joey Batey. 
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Hyun-soo Joly. Les Mis. Medical student. Hypochondriac. In a polyamorous open relationship with Bossuet and Musichetta. He/him pronouns and pansexual. 20′s. Faceclaim is Kai (EXO). 
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Lesgle Bossuet. Les Mis. Goes by Les, Bossuet, or Boss. Law student. Polyamorous. In open relationship with Chetta and Joly. 20′s. He/him pronouns and pansexual. Faceclaim is Charles Michael Davis.
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Musichetta de Belcourt. Les Mis. Goes by Chetta. Ployamorous. In open relationship with Joly and Boss. 20′s. She/her pronouns and pansexual. Faceclaim is Yara Shahidi.
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Naivara Galonodel. Dungeons and Dragons OC. A half-elf Mastermind Rogue with the charlatan background. Early to late 20′s, usually around 23. Modern/non-DnD verse available. She/her pronouns and mostly straight. Faceclaim is Tashi Rodrigues.
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Elianis Galonodel. DnD OC. A half-elf Druid in the Circle of the Moon with a criminal background. Older brother of Naivara. Mid to late 20′s, usually around 25. Modern/non-DnD verse available. He/him pronouns and gay. Faceclaim Jordan Rodrigues.
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Anders Brightwood. DnD OC. A human bard from the College of Swords with a Knight of the Unicorn background. Mid to late 20′s. Modern/non-DnD verse available. He/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Alexander Calvert.
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Elijah Mikaelson. Vampire Diaries/The Originals. Over 1000 years old original vampire who looks between mid 20s and early 30s. Family is everything to him. He/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Daniel Gillies.
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Lorenzo St. John. Vampire Diaries. Goes by Enzo. Vampire. 27 years old (give or take 100+ years). Can be a dick but is loyal to those he loves. Faceclaim is Michael Malarkey.
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jestercatboy · 3 years
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Anyone know any common thing people tag real person fanfics and real person x reader fics? They gross me out so much and keep showing up on my dash because I follow tags like corpse husband (the worst one for it there's SO MUCH) and various celebrities. I have rpf and x reader filtered but the one that just popped up didn't have either of those tags it was tagged with robert sheehan and various TUA tags so unless I specifically block robert sheehan x reader I couldn't have blocked that one. (Though I will now be blocking that one specifically)
(Also don't get me wrong I'm not against people writing and enjoying rpf I just wish they'd tag it so people who dislike it can filter it out or just post it to ao3 with a nice tagging system instead of putting it in the general fandom tags of Tumblr where people have to see it)
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salvador-daley · 1 year
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Clone | Part 2
Robert Sheehan x Reader x Female!Robert Sheehan
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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.
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“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.”
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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?”
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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.”
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“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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I loved your foray into rpf and I was wondering if I could request a continuation? Maybe this time with a little spice? As much or as little as you're comfortable with. Maybe reader has a smutty dream about Rob and he hears her talking/moaning in her sleep. At first she's too embarrassed to tell him what it was about, but he manages to squeeze the details out of her... and then they re-enact it. 😘😘
You Make My Dreams Come True (Robert Sheehan RPF)
Word Count: 1,1 k
Warning: strong language, very mild sexual content
a/n: Thank you so much for the request, it's not that smutty, but I'm still finding my place in writing RPF, I hope you like it :3
(Masterlist)
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It was about 4 a.m, you had long fallen asleep while your boyfriend was still working on a late-night shoot. Of course you were proud of him and how much he had been working on the new series, but it was hard to have dinner on your own, fall asleep on your own, and walk around the empty flat.
When he arrived, he dropped his bag and jacket by the door, kicked off his sandals, and let his hair down. He could smell the food you had left in the oven for him and immediately got to it without even heating it up. He was tired and sweaty but mostly starved. 
"Love? You awake?" Robert asked as he finally entered the room after taking a quick shower. 
He smiled softly when he noticed you were hugging his pillow, wearing one of his shirts, and peacefully resting on his side of the bed because you missed his scent. 
"So beautiful," he crawled carefully next to you and pressed his lips gently to your temple. 
"Robbie..." You breathed.
"Hey, sorry I'm late, I was working on this fight and-"
"Stop that!" You giggled. "I can't concentrate if you keep doing that." 
Robert's mouth fell open and he let out a silent laugh, careful not to startle you awake. He was way too invested in whatever was happening in your dream after that familiar whiny request.
"What am I doing, darling?"
"This is torture..." You moaned, your voice muffled by the pillow. 
"You know you love it," he smirked and pressed another kiss to your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you after shutting the lights off.
The next morning, you decided to let your boyfriend sleep a little longer and get started on an improvised brunch. Rob had the day off and you were planning on not leaving his side for a single second. 
You expected to see that cute surprised look on his face when he kinda gapes and kinda smiles, but instead when he woke up, he had the biggest shit-eating grin you had ever seen. 
"What?" You asked as you served his scrambled eggs and sausages. 
"Nothing... Just thinking, that's all." 
"Aw, sweetheart, again? Don't you remember what happened last time?" You joked.
"Did you have any interesting dreams last night?" He mused before taking a bite.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, any special dreams. Maybe with me in it?"
"What? No," you snorted, immediately turning the other way. Robert happened to be amazing at reading people, especially you. You were never able to lie to him, even surprise parties were a big issue.
"Interesting... Kinda sounded like you did." 
"Why? You read minds now or something?"
"Sometimes you talk in your sleep, my dear. It was not the first time, it's usually gibberish, but last night it was loud and clear." 
You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. It wasn't uncommon for him to joke around and try to rile you up like that. Buying in would be basically admitting he was right and you did have a special dream about him.
"Yeah, alright..." You scoffed.
"Robbie, stop that... I can't concentrate when you do that. This is torture," he moaned dramatically before laughing at your affronted expression.
You could vaguely remember the dream. Robert was wearing a tank top you could only describe as slutty and baggy pants that could be generous when... Um... Outlining his anatomy, especially when he had no underwear on. His curls were wild and messy and he looked dashing as always with his goatee.
He was sitting with you on the couch, it was a very hot day and he was running a cold water bottle along his arms and chest to keep cool, covering his sunkissed skin in crystal droplets that reflected the sunlight while he smoked a joint. 
You were working from your laptop and having a very hard time with the distractions, but nonetheless you kept trying to focus on your task and finish it as quickly as you could. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, seemed focused on stopping you. He knew how talented he was at getting your attention.
"Do you want some?" He asked, holding up the blunt.
"Yeah," you reached for it, but he pulled back, placing it between his lips and taking a long draw before leaning closer. Hovering over you as he parted your lips with his thumb to exhale the smoke for you. 
You protested with a needy whine and a giggle, but he was unbothered, pretending like he didn't understand why you were so frustrated. He liked being teased as much as he enjoyed teasing you back, and it almost felt like he was trying to get revenge for something you had done before.
"Robbie..."
"What?" He chuckled, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Stop that!" 
"Stop what?" He took your laptop and placed it on the table taking its place in front of you. His knee parted your legs and pressed firmly in between them, which immediately caused a reaction, nearly involuntary from your hips. "Oh, look at that, doesn't seem like you want me to stop."
"I can't concentrate if you keep doing that," you whimpered, sounding way more pathetic than you intended.
"If you can finish without getting distracted I can give you something in return," he offered, popping an ice cube from your glass into his mouth before pressing his cold lips to your neck. "Be good now, alright?"
Back to reality, you were probably as red as a bell pepper, because Rob was laughing his ass off watching you try to recall your dream. He knew, of course he knew, it was impossible to keep a secret from him.
"C'mon, tell me! I can do my best to make your dreams come true."
"No! This is too embarrassing, I can't just-"
"So you admit it... You had a dirty dream about me."
"Yeah, okay? You've been spending so long away from home because of work I feel like I barely see you anymore and I feel lonely and needy."
"I understand, it's tough to stay away for me too, you have no idea how happy I was to see you dreaming of me last night," he looked down with a warm smile. "Just tell me and let me do whatever cruel torture it was that made you giggle and whine like that."
"Fine! Roll a joint while I get your tank top, I'll tell you the rest as we go."
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Head First (Robert Sheehan RPF)
Word Count: 1k
Warning: strong language
a/n: Okay then, the time comes for my first RPF... I decided to write something fluffy, totally silly and simple, and mostly something you could all relate to, tried to make it so everyone can see themselves. Hope it works lol
(Masterlist)
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It all started with that interview. You were PMSing hard and your cramps were killing you.
"Sorry, I'm not gonna bother you during your press day," you mumbled on your way to the kitchen. "I'm just getting some paracetamol and a heating pad. I'll be out of your hair."
"Hey, you still hurting?" Rob asked with a worried frown.
"Yeah, this month is kicking my ass. I think I'm gonna take a nap."
"C'mere," he said, patting his thigh. "I'll warm you up."
"But the interview..." You looked at the laptop prepped on a pile of books on the coffee table. The press for the new season of Umbrella Academy was about to start and your relationship was still not public, so your plan was to stay in the bedroom the whole time preferably quiet.
"Don't worry about that, just lay down over here and take your nap, nobody will even see you," he assured.
The fact that he wanted to stay close to you at that time meant a lot and you simply couldn't resist.
So you slept for about an hour while he answered the questions and played games, all while gently running his fingers through your hair and rubbing your lower stomach. It was all going well until a sudden sound woke you up, and still disoriented, you lifted your head.
"What's wrong?" You murmured.
"Nothing, love, it's okay," Robert stoked your back and you settled back down.
"Who's there with you?" The interviewer asked with a chuckle.
"It's my girlfriend, she wasn't feeling so well and I couldn't leave her alone."
"Is y/n okay?" Tom asked.
"Yeah, she just needs to rest."
And that was it. All hell breaks loose online after that five second interaction. Even if your boyfriend assured you there was nothing to worry about and you didn't 'ruin' anything, you still had a horrible feeling about that.
Later that week while Robert cooked dinner, you were taking a quick look at Tumblr. It had been a while since you posted anything or checked your dash, and oh man... It was filled with opinions. Both good and bad, but everyone had something to say.
The gifs from the interview, more specifically the moment where your head is visible were spreading like wildfire. Pictures pinpointing every detail of your forehead and eyebrows, memes, and people had already reached your Instagram.
Luckily your name on Tumblr was just a random witty joke, so no one knew you were there, but the comments on your pictures and new followers were starting to fill your notifications prompting you to private your account, not to mention all the tweets and even some tiktoks.
It was overwhelming, to say the least. A little scary taking into consideration that some people were somewhat upset. There were no death threats (yet), but there were enough remarks about your looks, your age, your weight, and your voice to leave you uneasy. Most people were nice, but the ones who weren't were always louder and the first ones to show up.
Didn't know Robert was doing charity work
Man needs glasses LMAAO
She must have a great personality...
One particular Tumblr thread caught your attention. It was someone you knew from your time as an avid consumer and creator of the hillsite.
Essentially, the thread was a passive-aggressive rant about how you were not his type but it was so sweet and kind of him to give someone like you a chance, mentioning that you were probably faking not feeling well just to mark your territory by showing up seemingly accidentally.
"Y/n is the one dating him, you just sound jealous," you murmured to yourself as you typed that response. "At the end of the day, who's there? The ugly bitch you despise so much."
Okay, that wasn't your proudest moment. Your emotions got the best of you and you just wanted to fight back and make this person feel bad like they did to you.
"What's wrong, darling?" Rob asked, noticing how quiet you were.
As he closed the oven and made his way to the couch, you immediately shut the computer. He had no idea you had that account from years ago and you hoped he would never find out.
"Nothing," you smiled, opening your arms to embrace him.
"I know you, c'mon, spit it out," he chuckled, tickling your sides. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"
"It's nothing serious, just your fans are kinda tearing me a new one right now," you laughed, trying to make it seem like you didn't care. "Some of them anyway."
"Oh, I see," Robert nodded. "Hey, I'm sorry some people are giving you a hard time just for being with me. I love you, no one's opinion is ever gonna change that, but reading that shit is just gonna make you spiral."
You wanted to be as relaxed as he was, the world could be on fire and he would take it as an opportunity to make s'mores. Usually you were good at letting things go, but being a target like that was very hard to ignore.
"I know, I shouldn't be wasting my time with this, but-"
"But you're curious, aren'tcha? Why would you care what a handful of dickheads has to say?" He smirked knowingly. "Believe me. This is one day for you, about 20 years for me. Just trust me on this, okay? Dinner's almost ready."
"I'll try..." You said, already reaching for your phone to check your notifications.
"Nonono, give it to me," Robert snatched it from your hand and held it up in the air, way too high for you to reach. "I made your favorite, we're gonna eat and talk and forget this social media hell. This is why I don't like this shit."
"But, Rob-"
"No buts," he insisted, stealing a kiss. "If you wanna read something so bad, read my manuscript and tell me what you think before I send it to my editor. Either that or I'll have to keep you distracted in other ways."
"Hmmm... Yeah, that might not be so bad."
**
Tag List:@seanfalco​ @salvador-daley
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Masterlist of Masterlists
The Eighth Child (The Umbrella Academy AU - Klaus x OC)
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Hard Candy (Misfits AU - Nathan x OC)
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Timeline Anomaly’ Verse (Hard Candy x Bad Kids crossover)
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Galway Guy (Foreign Exchange AU - Cormac X OC)
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Irresistible Trouble (The Borrowers AU - Spiller x Reader)
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Before The Sun (Young Blades AU - Louis XIV x OC)
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Foreign Dreams (Mute AU - Luba x Reader)
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The Girl With a Broken Smile (Bad Samaritan AU - Sean x OC)
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Perfect Harmony (Three Summers AU - Roland x OC)
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Me and Ms. Adolphson (Me and Mrs. Jones AU - Billy x OC)
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Twin Flames (Moonwalkers AU - Leon x OC)
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Exposure Therapy (The Road Within AU - Vincent x OC)
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Make Me Sway (Song of Sway Lake AU - Nikolai x OC)
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I See Paradise (Anita B. AU - Eli x OC)
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Heavenly (The Mortal Instruments AU - Simon x Reader)
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Project Veda (The Last Bus AU - Dalton Monkhouse x OC)
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All Shook Up (Killing Bono AU - Ivan McCormick x OC)
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**
Others:
- Reformed Teen Idol (Rock Rivals - Addison x Reader)
- Smaller Audience (Rock Rivals - Addison x Reader)
- Better Than Cake (Mute - Luba x Reader)
- Second Chance (Dip - Jason x Reader)
- One Normal Night (Dublin Story - Clocker x Reader)
- Bad Habits (Rock Rivals - Addison x Reader)
- Heaven on Earth (Genius: Picasso - Carles x Reader)
- No More Secrets (Rock Rivals - Addison x Reader)
- Runaway (based on Push It - Duologue)
- Under My Umbrella (TUA X Misfits crossover)
- One Summer Back in 1939 (Song for a Raggy Boy - O’Reilly x Reader)
- The Other Hell? (An Endgame Story)
- Head First (Robert Sheehan RPF x Reader)
- You Make My Dreams Come True (Robert Sheehan RPF X Reader)
- Not So Haunted (TUA - Klaus x Reader)  
- Encounter With Karma (TUA - Klaus)
- Comes in Waves (The Clinic - Shane x Reader)
- Midnight Strikes (Robert Sheehan RPF X Reader)
**
My OC bio masterlist
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Sheehanoween!
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Hello my wonderful fellow Robert Sheehan stans. Here are all the results from my 400 follower Sheehanoween event, including the short multi-chapter story, The Mists of Culloden.
The event has ended. Thank you all for your submissions!
Gif Prompts list
* smut, **really smutty, ***filthy smut
Nathan Young
Thanks a Lot, Kelly (Nathan Young x Reader angst)
Breaking Eggs*** (Nathan Young x Fem!Reader smut) 
Tip your Bartender (Nathan Young x Reader steamy)
Fireball** (Nathan Young x Fem!Reader smut)
Rend Me in Two*** (Nathan Young x Fem!Reader smut & angst)
Stealth Fucker*** (Nathan Young x Fem!Reader smut)
Happy Birthday’oween (Nathan Young x Fem!Reader fluff)
Champagne Buzz*** (Nathan Young x Fem!Reader smut)
Loose Threads (Nathan Young x Fem!Reader silly)
Klaus Hargreeves
Into the Woods** (Klaus Hargreeves x Reader smut)
Homeward Bound** (Klaus Hargreeves x Fem!Reader smut)
Vladek Klimov
Vakker Sorg (Vladek Klimov x Fem!Reader angst)
Sacred Sites*** (Vladek Kilmov x Fem!Reader smut)
Seized (Vladek Klimov x Reader violence/conflict)
Sean Falco
Wake Up Call** (Sean Falco x Reader smut)
Breakfast* (Sean Falco x Fem!Reader steam)
Thunderclouds (Sean Falco x Reader angsty fluff)
Darren Treacy
Mo Shíorghrá (Darren Treacy x Reader fluff)
Jack (The Messenger)
Distorted Verses (Jack x Fem!Reader angst & fluff)
I Spy (Jack Fem!Reader (kinda fluffy, teensy bit of angst)
Snowed In (Jack x Reader angst and fluff)
Luba (Mute)
Ethereal Creatures (Luba x Fem!Reader steam)
Five Times*** (Luba x Fem!Reader smut)
Tom Natsworthy
Not Today (Tom Natsworthy x Reader violent/conflict fluff)
Spice is Nice (Tom Natsworthy x Reader fluff)
Quickening (Tom Natsworthy x Reader fluff)
AU!Rob (AN: I don’t do RPF smut anymore; only fluff or PG headcanons)
Cast it Off (AU!Robert Sheehan x Reader fluff)
The Mists of Culloden
A four-part ghost story with AU Rob. A bit spooky with some steam and some fluff, but no smut.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four (Finale)
I hope you enjoy it as I’ve put a ton of love into it, so if you do enjoy it, please consider reblogging.
As always, thank you for following my weird little blog and I hope you have fun when you visit. Cheers!
© Robert Sheehan Owns My Ass
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sun-blessed · 5 years
Text
New Muses!
Most of my old muses are still around, including: Louis Charles, Therese, Sophie, Marie Antoinette, Louis XVI, Louis XIV, Philippe d’Orleans, and Chevalier de Lorraine
New muses include:
Elizabeth Charlotte (Liesolotte). Fandom - Versailles/Historical rpf. Philippe’s wife. Age around 20’s to early 30’s. She/her pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is Jessica Clark.
Zoe de Bourbon. Historical rpf. Adopted daughter of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI. Age around late teens to early 20’s. She/her pronouns and pan sexual (mostly attracted to girls). Faceclaim is Zendaya.
Ernestine de Bourbon. Historical rpf. Adopted daughter of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI. Age usually mid to late 20’s (same age as Marie Therese). She/her pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is Starlie Cheyenne Smith.
Destin Michaels. Original character. Transgender man. Age usually late teens to early 20’s. He/him pronouns and gay (attracted to men only). Faceclaim is Lucky Blue Smith.
Novah Michaels. OC. Destin’s twin sister. She/her pronouns and bisexual (attracted mostly to men). Faceclaim is Pyper America Smith.
Billy Kaplan. Marvel comics. Also known as Wiccan. Usually late teens to early 20’s. He/him pronouns and gay.
John Parke Custis. Historical rpf. George Washington’s stepson. Early to mid 20’s. Non-binary with they/them pronouns, and pan sexual. Faceclaim is Reece King.
Benjamin Hargreeves (Number 6). The Umbrella Academy. Technically a ghost who died as a child but appears as early 20’s. He/him pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is Justin H. Min.
Klaus Hargreeves (Number 4). The Umbrella Academy. Mid to late 20’s/early 30’s. Gender fluid with changing pronouns and pan sexual. Faceclaim is Robert Sheehan.
Draco Malfoy. Harry Potter. Mid teens through 20’s. He/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Tom Felton.
Thor Odinson. Marvel Cinematic Universe. Really fucking old (exact age unknown, appears mid 30’s). He/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Chris Hemsworth.
Loki Odinson. MCU. Also fucking old (appears 30’s). Genderfluid but he/him pronouns and pansexual. Faceclaim is Tom Huddleston.
Brunnhilde (Valkyrie). MCU. Same as Thor and Loki. She/her pronouns and bisexual (prefers girls). Faceclaim is Tessa Thompson.
Peter Parker (Spider-Man). MCU. Late teens to early 20’s. Trans man with he/him pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Tom Holland.
Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel). MCU. Late 20’s. She/her pronouns and lesbian. Faceclaim is Bree Larson.
Jaime Lannister. Game of Thrones. Late 20’s to mid 30’s. He/him pronouns and straight. Faceclaim is Nicolaj Coster-Waldau.
Brienne of Tarth. Game of Thrones. Mid to late 20’s. She/her pronouns and bisexual (prefers men). Faceclaim is Gwendoline Christie.
Sansa Stark. Game of Thrones. Late teens to early 20’s. She/her pronouns and bisexual. Faceclaim is Sophie Turner.
Apollo. Greek Mythology. Age unknown but appears early to mid 20’s. He/him pronouns and pansexual.
Artemis. Greek Mythology. Appears early to mid 20’s. She/her pronouns and a lesbian. Faceclaim is Cara Delevingne
Nico di Angelo. Percy Jackson series. Appears late teens to early 20’s. He/him pronouns and gay. Faceclaim is Finn Wolfhard.
Evelyn Trevelyan. Dragon Age/OC. Originally an Inquisitor OC. Early 20’s. She/her and bisexual. Faceclaim is Natalie Dormer.
Aurelia Tabris. Dragon Age/OC. Originally a Warden OC. Early 20’s. She/her and a lesbian. Faceclaim is Hayley Kiyoko.
Anthony J. Crowley. Good Omens. Demon. Age unknown (on earth at least 6000 years). Gender less but he/him pronouns and pansexual.
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