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peterman-spideyparker · 1 month

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Nightmares (Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I've had this in my drafts for a while, and I have the day off today, so I figured I'd post it. I initially wrote this a a Frank Castle fic, but when I was reading it over after I was done, it really seemed to fit Michael better (again, obsessed with this man, and I've only seen the pilot episode of Kin). I hope you guys enjoy! :)

Summary: One of Michael's deepest fears comes to life in a nightmare, and he turns to you for comfort, needing to ground himself.

Warnings: Graphic nightmare (dead dove do not eat--Michael, Anna, and Reader tied up in the woods, Michael having to choose between you and Anna, violence, guns, Reader death in dream), swearing calming down Michael after a nightmare, smut (kissing, fingering, praise, biting/nibbling, p in v unprotected sex) cuddling, talking about fears

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 2,097

He doesn’t know where he is. His in some sort of forest, dead, brown, fragile leaves below him. He hears crying—these terrified sobs and whines of horror. Michael’s eyes shoot up and see you and Anna on your knees, your arms tied around your back with blinding headlights shining behind you. He looks up and sees a man standing behind you both, but he can’t make out their face. What he can distinctly recognize, though, is the gun in his hand.

“Choose!” a gruff voice shouts above the cries of the two people he loves most in the world.

“Let ‘em go!” Michael shouts, straining against the rope on his wrists. “Yer problem seems t’be with me, eh? So cut me loose and fight me.”

“You need to choose, Michael,” the voice says. Why can’t he see his face?

“Ye want me t’choose? Alright, me! I choose me!” he protests. “That’s who ye have a grudge against, right? So let them go and off me!”

"Choose!"

Leave begin to rustle beneath where you kneel, and Michael’s eyes flit over to you in a panic. You stand, your body shaking and tears streaming down your face. You lock eyes with him and mouth “I love you” before you turn around and face the faceless man.

“Let them go,” you tremble. “Hurt me, but spare them.”

“No!” Michael shouts, desperately trying to burst out of his restraints, but they only get tighter.

“She has the courage that you so frequently lack,” the faceless man says as Michael protests and Anna cries in fear.

“Anna, sweetheart, close your eyes,” you beg, doing your best not to cry. “It’ll be okay.”

“No, hey!” Michael shouts. “Let her go! Take me, instead! ‘M beggin you. Please! Please!”

“You could learn a thing or two from her.”

“Mikey, I love—.”

Michael cries out when his happens, the gunshot echoing deafeningly loud in the forest as you fall lifeless in the leaves in front of him. Blood is smeared on your head, spreading like a crimson sheet around you, and all Michael can do is cry before letting out a terrible scream at the top of his lungs.

He shoots up, finding himself in his bedroom, sheets in his lap and sweat sticking to his skin as his chest heaves for air.

“Michael,” you say gently, and he looks over to you with panicked eyes. You’re okay. You're alive. Here, with him, in his bed. “Mikey, it was just a nightmare. It’s okay. Everything’s alright.” You run a gentle, cool hand down his sweaty, burning skin. “Whatever it was wasn’t real. You’re safe.”

Michael lets out a shaky breath, his bleary eyes looking over your form before he leans in and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight and weeping into the crook of your neck.

“I thought I lost ya,” he weeps. “I can’t loose someone else I love. I-I-I can’t loose ya.”

“Oh, Michael,” you breathe, running your hand down the back of his hair. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”

Michael matches his breathing with yours, eventually calming down and pulling back to look at you with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Leaning in, Michael kisses you deeply. He knows you’re here in front of him, but something deeper in him is desperate to know that you’re actually here in his bed, that you’re not dead somewhere in the woods like what he saw in his dream. You accept his embrace for a bit, but you start to pull back as he tries to intensify the kiss.

“Michael,” you whisper. “Is this what you want? Or do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t have someone take ya from me. I need’ya right now, love,” he mutters. “Please, just let me have this.”

“As long as you’re sure,” you nod, leaning back in for a kiss. When your lips meet again, Michael is more aggressive in his embrace, taking charge of how his lips crash against yours and how his tongue slips in deep to explore. He guides you down on the mattress, his hands squeezing into your body as he kisses you desperately, sure to leave little bruises behind. Michael’s lips explore every inch of flesh that they can find, pulling little whimpers of pleasure from you as he does so. Any other day, Michael would drag his kisses down and spend hours between your legs, but he needs to be close to your face. He needs to see the sparkle in your eyes, the flush of your cheeks, the little lines at the corner of your mouth when you smile at him. Leaning back up, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply and rocking into the mattress. His hands grip the sleep shirt of his that’s on your body, sliding it off and tossing it somewhere to the side. You let out a soft moan as your breasts are exposed to the cool morning air, something that Michael happily dips down to kiss, lick, and suck on the pebbling flesh before moving back up and marking up your neck.

“Mikey!” you squeal breathily when he hits the right spot. Your nails dig into the soft flesh of his back, scratching angry lines down his body. Michael growls by your ear, nipping at the love bite before moving his mouth over yours and slip his tongue into your mouth. “Michael . . . baby!”

“I need ya,” he growls. “I need to bury my cock in that tight cunt of yers. Make those pretty sounds fall from yer mouth, make my name the only thing you can remember, stuff ya full.”

“Michael,” you whine.

“Ye want tha? Want me ta stretch ya full? Want my cum in ya?”

“Fuck, Mikey, yes, please!”

“Atta girl,” he coos. “Usin yer words like tha. Such a fuckin good girl fer me.”

Quickly shoving down his boxers, he pushes down the fabric just enough, giving himself a few pumps to make sure he’s nice and hard for you before sliding his hand up your thigh and grabbing onto your underwear. He yanks them clean off of you before fingering you, getting you ready. You cry out, your back arching as he pumps his fingers in and out to spread your slick around before moving back to fist his cock and spread your essence around.

“Ready, pet?” he pants.

“Yes,” you say breathily. “Yes, please!”

He presses a deep, passionate kiss to your lips, a moan pulling from your throat as his tongue explores your mouth before he slides in. Your lips part from one another’s as you cry out into the bedroom at the top of your lungs. You’re wet, sure, but not as wet as you usually are, so taking Michael is a bit more of a challenge. It feels like a tighter fit, and you can feel every cell between your legs as you stretch and try to take him. Michael feels it too, biting his lip before moving to bite your shoulder, which only makes the volume of your cries go louder. Your fingers sink into his back, leaving little crescent mark brands on his skin.

“Fuckin perfect,” he mutters, soothing the sting of his bite with his tongue and lips. “So tight. Such a nice cunt f’me, gripping my cock like tha.”

“Michael,” you whine.

“Say my name.”

“Michael!”

“Again.”

“Michael!”

“Who d’you belong to?”

“Michael!”

His pace moves from something tender and sensual to brutal and unrelenting, but you let him take what he needs until you’re screaming out so loud that you, him, and his neighbors know you’ll have a sore throat for days. You cum hard around his length, your entire body trembling with your orgasm as your mind goes fuzzy and you desperately cling to his body. Michael is like an animal as he ruts into you, chasing his high as he prolongs yours. The scruff of his bread scratches against your neck, and your hand slides up the back of his head to tug at the soft locks. He twists his head so his lips meet yours once more, full of lust, but intrinsically laced with passion and love. You nuzzle into his embrace and he bites his lip as he begins to feel the muscle in the lower abdomen tighten before he spills into you with a low grunt. You lie there, tangled together as a sweaty mess as you try to catch your breath. Languid, tired kisses are exchanged back and forth, and Michael can’t help but get lost in your sparkling eyes and how much he loves you, seeing that same love reflected back to him.

“You’re squishing me a little, Mikey,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his nose.

“Oh,” he blushes. “Sorry, pet.”

You lean in for a kiss as he starts to pull out, rolling to the side but keeping you in his arms. You settle perfectly into his side, your hand warm on his chest.

“Are you okay, Michael?” you breathe into the dark bedroom, playing with his chest hair as you rest on one another.

“Awful dream,” he admits after a long silence. “Nightmare in every sense of the word. You . . . Ye died. Right in front of m’eyes, and there was nothin’ I could do ta save ya. I-I had ta choose between you an’ Anna, an’ I was beggin’ whoever it was t’take me instead. You stood up and you sacrificed yerself.”

He draws in a sharp, shaky breath between his teeth as you hold him tight.

“Baby, I’m,” you start, and you sound like you’re on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”

“I think about it all the time,” he continues. “Ways the both of ye could just be taken from me. What I’d do. How I’d live without either of ya, and . . .” He can’t even fathom a reality where you’re both not in his life. He’s already lost his wife, and there’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t miss her or think about how different his life would be if she was still here. “I can’t loose either of ya. I think I’d die if I did.”

“No one is gonna take us from you, and I’m not leaving, I promise.”

“But what if it’s not yer choice? What if I fuck up again an—.” He sniffles. “I didn’t think love . . . Fuck, I didn’t think a normal life was in the cards f’me. Everything that’s happened is proof of tha’. An’ now, I’m startin’ to believe again that it might be possible. ‘M afraid it’ll come crashin’ down again like it did.”

“Can I let you in on a secret?” you whisper. He looks up at you through his big brown eyes in a way that you can only describe as something a puppy would do. “I’m mortified of losing you, too. Either you die, or someone runs a red and I get into an accident. I’m terrified of what it’ll be like if we’re not in each other’s lives. But I know that’d it have to be some act of God to separate us.” I lean down and kiss him. “I love you, Michael. Forever and always. And nothing will ever change that.”

He holds you tighter, allowing you to snuggle down on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat loud and clear.

“What if we just run away,” he whispers. It’s not a question to you so much as it is a thought he’s mulled over time and time again. “Start over. Have a new life somewhere where all this shit isn’t weighing down over our heads.”

“Mikey . . .”

“I mean it. We’d be safe anywhere but here.”

“You’d be away from Anna.”

“We’d take her with us.”

“Her life is here, Michael. If she wants to leave, it’s her decision.”

“I just need t’keep ya safe.”

“And you will. No matter where we are in the world, I know you’ll keep us safe.”

“Why d’ya have so much faith in me?”

You turn into him, the tip of your nose brushing against his neck. “Because I love you, and you love me. I know the man that you are, and who you’re working to be. You are a good man, Michael Kinsella. And I love you.”

“You rhyme when you get sappy,” he chuckles softly, giving you a squeeze.

You kiss his shoulder, chuckling. “It was unintentional. But true. And it got you to smile. It’s a win-win.”

Michael pulls the blanket up around your bodies, holding you close and placing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione @catnip987 @blackhawkfanatic

#michael kinsella #kin #kin amc #michael kinsella fanfic #michael kinsella fanfiction #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x fem!reader #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella x reader angst #michael kinsella x reader smut #michael kinsella x fem!reader angst #michael kinsella x fem!reader smut

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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Bella's Masterlist of Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Michael Kinsella, & Daryl Dixon Series & One Shots

I am currently working on multiple series and fics for Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Michael Kinsella, and Daryl Dixon. I've updated my Masterlist so that each link will bring you to a separate, organized Masterlist for each specific character because there are just so many now! There's also some "bonus" characters I write for listed at the bottom of this Masterlist (Henry from Eat Locals, Owen Sleater in the future maybe). Always feel free to chat with me about any of the fics or characters I'm writing for. Y'all know I'm chatty!

I post new fics/updates multiple times a week and all of my stories are available fully on tumblr and my AO3. If you'd like information on my tag lists you can find that here.

**I do not currently accept story requests because I have too many ongoing projects at the moment!**

Collection of Short Blurbs [Featuring Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, or Michael Kinsella]

Masterlist of Matt Murdock Fics and Series

Masterlist of Frank Castle Fics and Series

Masterlist of Michael Kinsella Fics and Series

Masterlist of Daryl Dixon Fics

Additional Characters:

Henry x Fem!Werewolf!Reader Mini Series

Forbidden Love [Installment List]

Pairing: Vampire Henry x Fem!Werewolf!Reader

Warnings/tags: Smut, blood, biting (I mean...that's a given), bit of enemies to lovers, maybe some angst and fluff

After awhile you'd grown used to the vampire who often lurked around the woods you hunted in. Though that didn't mean his irritating presence didn't bother you, or that you didn't wonder why he often seemed to be waiting for you–especially since your kinds weren't meant to intermingle.

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siampie · 4 months

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Chapter List for Finding You

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains smut, parental death, grief, idiots in love, angst, fluff, eldest daughter syndrome.

After your father passed and after sorting out his affairs, you made the move to Dublin, Ireland. You were happy to have found a two-story house at a cheap price. You didn’t think much of it. And then you realized why the price was so low, you were living next door to the notorious Kinsella Clan. A knit tight family that dealt in all sorts of crimes. And had made headlines a few times. It went from murder to drug dealings. Upon learning this, you made yourself as scarce as possible. You kept your interactions with the Kinsellas as little as possible. You kept away from them, and they seemed to keep away from you too. Not having the means to move out of this neighborhood, you took it in stride and lived your life despite your proximity to the Kinsellas. You made sure not to be seen by them and kept out of their way. That was until your next-door neighbor; Michael Kinsella; is released from jail and moves back into his home. You’ve sworn to yourself to stay away from him. You knew what he'd done to his wife. You knew why he had been in jail for eight years. And yet, you find yourself drawn to your quiet and dangerous neighbor.

List of Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (Coming soon)

#michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x fem! reader #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella smut

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shiorimakibawrites · 9 months

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Shiori's Fan Fic Masterlist

This is my general masterlist for my fan fiction, gathered here to make it easier to find what you are looking for.

In addition to current WIP, previews for upcoming stories will also be posted.

Anything marked as smut is not appropriate for minors. Image description is supposed to be the ALT but please let me know if it isn't working.

Likewise, please alert me to any broken links or if you would like to be added to any of character or series taglists.

My work is also posted on A03.

My fan fiction recommendations can be found here.

MATT MURDOCK

Now has his own masterlist which can be found here.

FRANK CASTLE

Series

A Vigilante and a Gentlemen

Image Credit:kissmegoodbye.net / Jakub Kapusnak (Unsplash) / Kevin Turcios (Unsplash)

Rating: 18+ for canon-typical violence and eventual smut Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Summary: You are an office manager and aspiring novelist. One day when you are walking to work, you past a construction site where the men began to catcall. With the exception of one who stops the others in their tracks. You find yourself intrigued by this rather mysterious man who calls himself Pete Castiglione. It helps that he keeps taking off his shirt in the summer heat. Genre: Fluff, Romance, Drama Current Status: ONGOING, Part 1 - Code of Conduct has been posted. Part 2 - Untitled is TBA.

Port in a Storm

Overall Rating: 18+ Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem! Reader Genre: Romance, Drama, Murder Mystery Working Summary: One night during a nasty storm, a mysterious stranger comes to your door looking for help. His arrival at your home coincides with the beginning of a deadly conspiracy, a danger from your past that threatens not only your life but the lives of your children. Is this handsome stranger your enemy or your salvation? Series Warnings (Subject To Change): Canon-typical violence, temporary character deaths, permanent character deaths, murder, mentions/worries of suicide, original child characters, eventual explicit sex Current Status: UPCOMING, Part 1 - Untitled is TBA.

One Shots

One of Those Days (fluff): You have a bad day but Frank makes it all better. Frank Castle x Reader

MICHAEL KINSELLA

Series

Rhapsody

Image Credit: kissmegoodbye.net / Qui Ngyuen (Unsplash) / Mayur Gala (Unsplash)

Rating: 18+ for canon-typical violence and smut Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader Summary: You have always had a weakness for bad boys. Which why you were surprised to find yourself charmed by a man named Michael Kinsella, who is as sweet as he is handsome. But there is more to Michael than meets the eye. Genre: Romance, Drama Current Status: UPCOMING, Part 1 - Blank Space is in the current writing queue. *All Chapter Titles will be the name of a song. Not always a Taylor Swift.

A Brand New Ending

Overall Rating: 18+ Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem! Reader Genre: Drama, Romance, Crime, Family Working Summary: On a visit to Dublin, you run into your ex-boyfriend Michael Kinsella in a pub. You get to talking to each other. You kiss him. And the next morning, you wake up in his bed, naked and pleasantly sore. You would have loved to stay but a family emergency calls you away. A couple months later, you discover that you are pregnant. You always wanted to be a mother but to your disappointment, it seems like Michael isn’t so eager to become a father again . . . Series Warnings (Subject To Change): Canon-typical violence, explicit sex, pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, discussion of previous miscarriage, fear of miscarriage, deception, referenced sexual assault, referenced child abuse, domestic violence, drugs and drug trafficking, organized crime, murder, epilepsy, seizures, referenced character deaths. Current Status: UPCOMING, Part 1 - Untitled is TBA.

One Shots

Warm (smut): Michael keeps you warm. In more ways than one. Michael Kinsella x Fem! Reader. Written for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge.

PETER PARKER / SPIDER-MAN

Series

Legacy

Overall Rating: 16+ Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem! Reader Genre: Superhero Adventures, Strangers to Lovers Romance Working Summary: Your father Matt Murdock disappeared along with half the universe. He never wanted you fighting but you cannot stand by while all of his hard work is destroyed. Hell’s Kitchen needs its Devil. As you patrol the nighttime streets, you meet another young hero who is struggling to uphold the legacy of his own mentors. Series Warnings (Subject To Change): Canon-typical violence, temporary character deaths, permanent character deaths, grief, mourning, bullying, ableism, eventual making out Current Status: UPCOMING, Part 1 - Untitled is TBA.

Adrift

Overall Rating: 16+ Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem! Reader Genre: Drama, Slow Burn Romance Working Summary: Things have been hard since you came back to life. You were gone for five years and that time everything changes. All of your old friends moved on. Your parents had another kid. School is different. Even over a year later, your life still doesn’t feel like yours anymore. Then you meet two other lonely souls struggling with the same feelings that you are – your coworker Peter Parker and the vigilante Spider-Man. Series Warnings (Subject To Change): Canon-typical violence, referenced temporary and permanent character deaths, alienation, depression, guilt, self-doubt, suicidal thoughts, worries about self-harm and/or suicide attempts, eventual making out Current Status: UPCOMING, Part 1 - Untitled is TBA.

OTHER

Events

Flightless Angel Wing's Kinkotober 2023 - Personal Masterlist

Castlevania (2017 - 2021)

Silence of the Mind (angst, hurt no comfort): All Trevor Belmont wanted was the silence of the mind.

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reblog-reblog666 · 12 days

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Masterlist 7

Matthew Murdock

Virtuous person - Fluff, Spice, Hurt/Comfort

Matt x Chubby!Fem!Reader - Fluffy Smut

Daredevil x Reader x Batman - Hcs, Drabbles

A sensory game - Smut Adjacent

Hygiene hcs

Bruce Wayne

Daredevil x Reader x Batman - Hcs, Drabbles

x GN!Reader - Smut

Michael Kinsella

Ring the changes - Smut

Lovebites - Smut

Smut blurb

Frank Castle

Hygiene hcs

#reblog #masterlist

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years

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CHARLIE COX CHARACTERS | COLLECTION

* i do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, reposted or translated (without my knowledge)

TV SHOWS & MOVIES MASTERLIST

Characters Listed A - Z

Here you'll find all of my fics of the characters portrayed by Charlie Cox <3

🔮 personal favorite || ☔️ smut || 🤧 angst || 🧁 fluff || 🩸 dark content

MATT MURDOCK.

ONESHOTS.

Limerence - Matt Murdock x fem!reader 🩸🤧☔️🔮

“He could hear things happening a mile away, smell the hint of gunpowder before any shot was taken, you couldn’t run from him. Not as long as you lived in Hell’s Kitchen.”

If by chance - Matt murdock x fem!reader 🔮☔️

“you’ve been listening to him for months and one day, you finally meet him in person.”

Two Birds - Matt Murdock x fem!reader 🧁

“when you see a blind man head into an alleyway, you chase after him, assuming he’s lost. How were you supposed to know he would begin to climb up the building like a freaking goat?”

According to you- Matt Murdock x fem!reader 🔮☔️🤧

When you’re distraught by the things your boyfriend keeps on telling you, Matt, sensing your mood shift, offers you a shoulder to lean on and invites you over. When you finally open up to him and tell him what’s been happening, he’s furious. So he takes it upon himself to convince you that everything your “boyfriend” says is utter bullshit.

DRABBLES.

Untitled - Matt Murdock x fem!reader ☔️🔮

❝did i say you could speed up? fuck me slowly like a good [chosen term] or i’ll make you stop completely.❞

Untitled 2 - Matt Murdock x fem!reader ☔️

❝ sit still at my feet and be a good [chosen term] until i’m finished working. if you make a noise without permission or move before i say so, i will add more time. do you understand? ❞

Midnight Love - Matt Murdock x gn!reader 🤧

❝ i don’t think i’m the best person for you, i don’t. but i do know i’m the one that can keep you safe ❞

No Romeo - Matt Murdock x fem!reader 🤧

matt leaves you for electra.

MICHAEL KINSELLA.

DRABBLES.

Untitled - Michael Kinsella x fem!reader ☔️🔮

❝ come here. sit in my lap and tell me what you want, [chosen term for sub]❞

Ends of the Earth - Michael Kinsella x gn!reader 🧁

You know what’s happening but you can't stop it.

The world begins to shift around you, the walls of your shared apartment with Michael swirling, something is squeezing your heart as it painfully beats in your chest and your chest heaves. You stagger forward as you try to reach the couch but you can’t feel your legs nor your arms.

Moments - Michael Kinsella x fem!reader 🧁

michael kinsella taking reader out on a dinner date

OWEN SLEATER.

DRABBLES.

Painkillers - Owen Sleater x fem!reader ☔️🔮

"Owen has you laying on your stomach, your ass raised and his hand pressing down against the small of your back. It hurts, it hurts but it feels so good."

Pleaser - Owen Sleater x gn!reader 🧁

"Owen’s fingers graze upon the frame of your body. A subtle shiver runs up your spine as his lips find the crook of your neck, decorating your skin with soft, open mouthed kisses. You love this. Just laying with him, feeling each other’s presence, away from the chaos that lurks outside. He feels the goosebumps on your skin, humming as his hands travel down to your stomach. "

Fashion Drunk - Owen Sleater x fem!reader 🧁

"You flinch at first but the sense of relief immediately washes over you when you realize who the sultry voice belongs to; Owen Sleater."

EAT LOCALS HENRY.

DRABBLES.

Cherry - Henry x fem!reader ☔️🧁

The thick ropes dig into your skin as you look up from where you were seated. Henry, sits you down on a dusty, gross looking couch. He stands right across from you, gobbling you up with his mere gaze as he lights a cigarette that lays between his lips. Your pulse quickens, a sheer sweat coating your skin while you press your thighs together. Quickly averting your eyes, you swallow, breath stuttering as you try not to think about how his gaze burns you.

TRISTAN THORN.

DRABBLES.

Paper Crown - Tristan thorn x fem!reader 🧁

"Due to your excitement you forgot one very important thing to bring to your date.

A coat. "

#matt murdock x reader #owen sleater x reader #michael kinsella x reader #charlie cox characters #tristan thorn x reader #demonetized

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siampie · 4 months

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Siampie's Masterlist of Michael Kinsella Fics

Michael Kinsella x Fem! Reader Series

Finding You [Chapter list]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains smut, parental death, grief, idiots in love, angst, fluff, eldest daughter syndrome.

#michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x fem! reader #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fic #michael kinsella smut

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bellaxgiornata · 3 months

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First Thing in the Morning

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; nothing but soft and smutty Michael in the morning

Summary: Michael wakes you up with one thing clearly on his mind.

a/n: This is literally just smut and I think for once I managed to keep the plot out of things! Also Reader doesn't have my attempt at an Irish accent in this one. Feedback is always appreciated!

Michael Kinsella one shot tag list: @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @shiorimakibawrites @wkndwlff @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @sunflower-tia @kezibear

You felt your mind sluggishly waking, pulling you from the deep sleep you’d been peacefully enjoying after your previous late night, drawing you back to consciousness. Very slowly you felt your body following along after, a faint, muffled groan vibrating in the back of your throat as you stirred awake.

With your eyes still closed, it took your brain a moment to process your surroundings, everything coming to you one at a time. The soft early morning bird call outside the bedroom window, the warmth of the blankets you were snuggly tucked beneath, and the large hand snaking its way down the length of your bare thigh.

“Mmm,” you hummed out, stirring further awake.

Behind you, you felt the bed shift as Mikey scooted closer to you on the mattress. His lips were on your bare shoulder the second he settled, placing a lingering kiss there as your eyelids gradually fluttered open. Sunlight was trickling in through the curtains, swathing the room in a gentle, golden glow. You couldn't help the tired smile that grew on your lips when Michael's mouth pulled away from your skin, the warm caress of his breath dancing down your exposed back.

Michael was often affectionate like this first thing in the morning, especially when neither of you had anywhere to be. Morning cuddles with him were some of your favorite moments, always making it so difficult for you to finally leave the bed and start your day. Many times you'd contemplated never leaving it, either, and just keeping him all to yourself wrapped up in the cozy sheets.

“G'mornin’, love,” he murmured against your bare shoulder.

The tinge of sleep coating his voice had a pleasant tingle racing up your spine. You knew that tone of voice though, especially with the way his hand was currently kneading at the muscle of your thigh.

“Morning, Mikey,” you croaked back, still partially awake yourself. “Been up long?”

“No,” he answered, his mouth moving just a bit before it brushed another light kiss over your shoulder. “But long enough.”

His hand slid to the inside of your thigh, sensually gliding its way upwards until you felt the faintest brush of the back of his fingers against your clothed center. Your back arched involuntarily at his touch as his hand continued to massage the muscle beneath it, his nose running back and forth in a line along the length of your shoulder now, his beard lightly tickling you. Your eyes fell shut again, a soft, contented sigh spilling out of you.

“How'd ya sleep, pet,” he murmured.

“Good,” you answered, focused on the feel of his hand once more on the move. “You?”

“Mmm, grand,” he purred, his hand running back down your thigh. “Woke up with ya on my mind though.”

You giggled softly into your pillow, Michael's hand dragging deliciously back up to your hip where he began leisurely kneading it. Goosebumps dotted the flesh along your arms, your body growing even further awake under his attentive touches.

“I can see that, Mikey,” you told him.

His hand gripped your hip tight before you felt shifting along the bed again. He'd drawn his hips all the way forward, pressing the front of his body against the back of yours. There was an unmistakable bulge now wedged between your ass, your heart rate spiking at the feel of it. Still holding your hips in place with his hand, you felt him grind himself against your ass with a soft, pleased hum. Your cunt immediately stirred awake next at the sound.

“D'ya see what ya do to me, pet?” he whispered, grinding his cock into your ass again. “Ya drive me fuckin’ mad for ya. Got me wantin’ ya first thing in the mornin’.”

Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, a shudder raced down your body at his raspy morning voice filled with heat and desire. You felt his hand moving again, this time gliding its way over your stomach and slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. His hand continued its ascent upwards until his palm cupped an entire mound of your breast. He gave it a gentle but firm squeeze and dampness began to form between your thighs, your blood immediately rushing southward.

“Fuck, Mikey,” you breathed.

An amused breath brushed over your ear, his mouth now hovering beside it. “I can if ya like, love,” he whispered. “Was kinda hopin’ for that this mornin’.”

You tried to shift in his arms towards him, desperate to run your hands along his bare chest and back, but the strong arm he had wrapped around you tightened, holding you in place as he continued to massage your breast. A frustrated groan left you before his fingers found your nipple, gently tugging at the quickly stiffening peak.

“ Michael ,” you complained, struggling against his hold. “Come on.”

His lips grazed the shell of your ear as he chuckled lightly beside it. His warm breath fell down the back of your neck, the feel of it raising the hair there.

“Relax, let me just appreciate ya for a minute, love. Always in such a rush,” he teased.

His tongue delicately swiped along the length of your ear next and your eyes snapped shut instantly. Moments later his plush lips sucked your earlobe between them, the heat of his mouth causing your thighs to clamp together, your ass pressing back into his erection as your need for him began to rise.

“Because this isn’t fair,” you shot back, a little breathless. “Maybe I want to touch you, too.”

He hummed in acknowledgement of what you'd said, your earlobe still between his lips. The pleasant vibration had you intentionally grinding back against him again, hoping that would help you change his mind so you could roll over and touch him in return. The way his fingers were deftly toying with your nipple beneath your shirt wasn't helping, either. Then gradually his mouth released your earlobe, his lips grazing your ear with each word when he whispered into it next.

“Let me just touch ya first,” he began, “then I'll let ya do whatever ya want with me.”

His words sent a thrill straight to your cunt. You knew damn well there was nothing more you wanted right now than to climb atop him and ride him until he came undone beneath you. The thought of that only had you growing wetter; you loved watching the sheer look of pleasure written on his face as he lay beneath you while you fucked him.

Michael's lips began placing delicate kisses along your neck, just below your jawline, and that quickly pulled you from the tantalizing mental image in your mind. His hand shifted beneath your shirt, coming to cup your other breast in his palm as you craned your neck, giving his mouth better access to it. The light scratch of his beard along your skin as he began trailing open-mouthed kisses against you had your hands fisting the sheets before you.

“ Michael ,” you moaned.

His teeth very subtly nipped at a sensitive bit of flesh and you couldn't fight back the resounding gasp that fell from your lips. You could feel Michael's own mouth draw into a smile against you before he nuzzled his face into your neck, his index finger carefully circling your nipple beneath your shirt.

“D'ya like that?” he whispered, his other hand landing on your thigh and beginning to massage it again. “D'ya like it when I touch ya, pet?”

You nodded eagerly along the pillow, your cunt begging for attention as your hips squirmed along the mattress. Michael ground his cock into your ass again at the movement, a low groan coming from him. Your breath hitched at the sound, your ignored cunt practically aching with need now. His front was still flush to the back of you, your body feeling like it was on fire everywhere he was pressed against you.

Almost as if he already knew what you needed, his hand made a direct path up your thigh and all the way over until he cupped your core in his palm. A high-pitched, needy whine came from you at the touch, your hips giving a brief jolt before they eagerly pressed back into his hand.

“Already soaked your panties and I've barely even touched ya,” Michael murmured in satisfaction, his palm beginning to rub against your center. “Ya need me that bad already d'ya?”

“Yes, yes,” you begged, not even embarrassed that you were grinding yourself against his palm. “I want you, Mikey. Let me show you how much.”

A deep growl rumbled out of his chest, the noise beside your ear sending a shiver through you. You fought back a smile at the sound though; you knew you were close to getting your way with him now.

“ Fuck ,” he cursed. “The things ya do to me, pet.”

A sly grin crossed your lips as you glanced back over your shoulder at him behind you. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his eyes half-lidded as they met yours.

“Let me show you some of the things I can do to you,” you whispered coyly.

You watched as his own eyes snapped shut at your words, something like a wince tugging at his features. You had him now.

“Let me take care of you, Mikey,” you continued, squirming in his hold. “You've had a rough week and you’re leaving tomorrow. So let me make you feel better. Let me take care of you this morning.”

His eyes opened, once again meeting yours. He hesitated for a minute, his finger still circling your nipple, and then ever so slowly you felt his arm loosen its hold around you. Not wasting the opportunity, you quickly rolled over on the bed to face him, a triumphant smile on your face as his hand slid over your hip and landed on your ass, the other still inside your shirt grabbing at your breast.

“My turn now, yeah?” you asked.

He drowsily grinned back at you, the sight somehow only working you up further. Without a thought you lunged forward, connecting your mouths in a hungry, needy kiss. Your hand slid its way down his side until it reached the waistband of his boxers. Breaking away from his mouth, your breath coming in sharper, you tugged at the elastic of them.

“I don't think we're going to need these, Mikey,” you whispered. “Take them off for me.”

Michael's hand slipped out of your shirt, both of his hands obliging your demand and beginning to pull his boxers off beneath the sheets. While he did, you quickly slid your own damp underwear off, drawing them down your legs before tossing them out of the sheets and over the side of the bed. When you focused back on Michael, he was grinning again and tugging at your shirt.

“Don't think ya need this either, love,” he teased.

Throwing a leg over his hips, your hands grabbed onto both of his shoulders before you pushed against him. Taking the hint, Michael allowed you to roll him onto his back while you mounted him, straddling his hips. Smiling coyly down at him, your hands released his shoulders long enough to grab the hem of your shirt and pull it up and over your head. You tossed your shirt over the side of the bed before placing your hands back onto his chest.

“Better?” you asked him.

Running your hands through the thick, dark hair of his chest, you saw him lazily smile up at you. He hummed out an affirmative response as you began to lower yourself down onto him, positioning your cunt more directly onto his cock. His eyelids lowered as a satisfied moan flew from his throat.

“Hell, pet,” he groaned, his hands gripping tight to your hips and encouraging you to grind back and forth along the length of him. “So damn wet in the mornin’, aren't ya? Feel so good already and I'm not even inside o’ ya.”

Biting your lip, you could feel the throbbing desire of your cunt at his praise already. As much as you wanted to drag things out, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist much longer. More slick was seeping out of your center, coating the underside of his cock as you continued to grind yourself back and forth along him.

Both of his hands made their way upwards from your hips, fingers delicately gliding up over your ribcage before his hands palmed your breasts once more. He began massaging them, kneading them tenderly in his hands. After a moment he paused, teasingly running the calloused pads of both of his thumbs over both of your nipples simultaneously. Your hips stuttered along him for a second and he gazed up at you smugly from beneath you.

“Someone's reactive this mornin’” he playfully teased, repeating the gesture with his thumbs.

“You know,” you told him a little breathlessly, fighting not to let your eyelids drop closed under the touch, “I don't think you're the one in the position to be doing the teasing here.”

He arched a dark brow at you, the corner of his lip tugging upwards. “Sure ‘bout that, love?” he asked.

Eyes narrowing at his challenge, you began to drag your nails down his chest. He hissed out a pleased noise between his teeth, his head partially rolling back along the pillow. You grinned back at him in satisfaction as your hand continued its way down his torso and towards his cock. Shifting your body out of the way, you grabbed onto the base of him and gave him a few languid pumps, reveling in the way his eyelids fluttered before you ran the head of him between your damp folds.

“Like I said,” you whispered, “I'm the one taking care of you this morning. Stop getting coy with me, Michael.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you lined up his cock with your entrance and then sunk the tip of him inside of you before he had the chance. Instead of words, you heard him groan something incoherent that had your entire body pleasantly tingling at the sound. Both hands splayed wide over his chest once more, fingers curled into the dark hair there that you loved so much, you braced yourself as you began to gradually lower yourself fully onto him. Both of you simultaneously released noises of pleasure into the bedroom as you did, the girth of him filling you entirely as you finally took him all the way.

“ Fuck I missed you, Mikey,” you whispered.

Michael's large hands slid around to your back, blunt nails digging into your skin. “I missed ya, too, pet,” he murmured back. “Always do. Always need ya.”

Beginning to move against him, you held his gaze. “Going to be thinking about me while you're out on that job?” you asked. “Will you be missing me then?”

“‘M always wishin’ ya were with me,” he whispered back, his hands tenderly smoothing over your back as you began to fuck him. “Always miss ya when– shit, love –”

The particularly hard roll of your hips forward into him cut him off, his hands halting their loving movements as his fingernails once more dug further into your back. Picking up your pace, you began to bounce along him a little quicker, your hips repeatedly rolling into him over and over as Michael lay beneath you, his face twisted into a look of sheer ecstasy.

“Always know what you're doin’,” he grunted out, breath coming in heavier. “Know me too damn well.”

Your hands slid up the expanse of Michael's chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath them as they moved. Eventually they made their way back to his broad shoulders, gripping them firmly in your hold. Michael’s half-lidded eyes were currently roving their way over your naked body atop him, his teeth gnawing on his own lip as his ragged and panting breaths filled the room. He looked so perfect like that beneath you, just letting you ride him until you both got off.

The urge to have more of him hit you hard and fast. Leaning down towards him, you saw Michael’s eyes fly up to meet yours at the movement. As if wanting the same thing, his own head eagerly rose from the pillow, his mouth meeting yours half-way. The kiss was sloppy and full of heat–all wet tongue and muffled groans of pleasure. His hands slid across your back as he kissed you until both of his arms had wrapped around you, your hips beginning to roll more frantically into his own.

And then his strong arms sharply tugged your body down towards himself, crushing you to him as his mouth swallowed the gasp of surprise that had flown out of you. His arms held you firm to the front of himself, his own hips beginning to buck up into yours and attempting to match your pace. When his cock hit just the right spot deep inside, your mouth released his, a loud moan flying out of you as your eyes briefly rolled back.

“Just like that, pet,” Michael ground out between clenched teeth, your sweat-dampened forehead dropping to rest against his. “Keep fuckin’ me just like ya are. Feel so fuckin’ perfect.”

Encouraged by his words, your nails bit firmly into his shoulders as you felt your own climax quickly approaching. You could feel he was already growing close to his own release with the sudden desperation apparent in his own movements as his hips fucked up into you.

“I need you to cum for me, Mikey,” you panted out, forehead still pressed to his. “Can you do that for me?”

He loosed a low moan in response that had your cunt tightening around his cock. Shifting atop him, you lowered your mouth beside his ear, nuzzling your nose against his temple as you whispered into it.

“I can tell you’re close,” you purred, breath ragged as you spoke. “Come on baby,” you urged, “fill me.”

“Fuckin’ hell, love, I’m–”

His hips stuttered beneath you, his eyes pinching shut. And then you felt the hot release of him inside of you a few thrusts later, the sound of his pleasured groan loud in the bedroom. The sound of it had your back arching along him, your cunt squeezing around him repeatedly. And then you were falling over the edge of your own release, moaning his name out soon after as your hips unsteadily continued to fuck the pair of you through each of your climaxes.

Gradually you felt yourself coming down moments later, your hips slowly stopping their movements along him. Michael’s head sluggishly rolled along the pillow towards yours as your body collapsed atop his, his cock slowly beginning to soften inside of you. His hands began running soothing patterns along your back as he smiled at you. You sent him a blissful, sleepy smile in return.

“Well g’mornin to you, love,” he said, a glint in his eye.

You bit your lip, giggling as your chest still heaved against his from the morning’s exertion. “Good morning indeed,” you whispered back.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #kin

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bellaxgiornata · 2 months

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Seventeen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.9k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Finally y'all get the other part of the night after that meeting with Birdy, Frank, and Jimmy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @danzer8705 @mattys-rat1989 @kezibear

Arms wrapped tight over your chest, you began to make your way down the drive as the bitter wind blew around you. Behind you, you heard the sound of Michael closing Birdy's front door before his heavy footsteps soon caught up with you along the pavement. Your anticipation of an angry outburst from him only rose with each thump of his boots, the hammering of your heart pounding in sync with them.

“What were ya thinkin’ goin’ out like that alone, Grace?” Michael hissed out between his teeth as he fell in step beside you. “D'ya have any idea how reckless that was? How close ya could've been to gettin’ yourself killed tonight?”

You blew out a rough breath in frustration, your eyes focused on your own feet as you walked. Of course you were aware of how stupid and dangerous it had been for you to meet that Serpent alone, but you hadn't really had another option. And it certainly wasn't like you wanted to go to that meeting, either.

Glancing over your shoulder, you took in the sight of Michael beside you. Despite the way the tension had eased from his body and the way the fire had mostly left his eyes once he'd gotten away from his family, you could still see the fear and anger lingering in them as the lights from the Garda car parked farther down the street lit him in a wash of blue and red.

“Of course I damn well know that it was dangerous,” you told him. “But I didn't have a choice. He knows who I am. And not only that, but Birdy was the one to see him leaving the letter to meet him in my sister’s letterbox , Michael. Meaning he knows where both her and I live. What was I supposed to do?” you asked, irritation in your own voice. “Was I just supposed to ignore the letter and put my sister in danger? Because that seemed like the far more reckless and stupid option.”

“No, I wouldn't expect ya to just ignore it,” he snapped back, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “But ya saw me before ya were headin’ out. Ya should’ve damn well said somethin’ to me! Ya shouldn't have dealt with this alone!”

“It was my problem to deal with!” you snapped back, keeping your voice low so as not to draw attention from the Garda. “I didn't come to Dublin expecting help with my situation! And I'm sure as shit glad I didn't say anything to you because I'm sure that Serpent would've happily shot you on sight if you'd come with me tonight!”

Michael loosed an irritated grunt at your words as he followed you up your sister’s drive. Her car was parked in front of the house and the sight of it shot a pang of guilt through you. You'd told her you were going out to work at a coffee shop before her shift at the hospital ended, and that had been quite awhile ago now. With everything that had happened tonight, you'd forgotten to let her know that you were alright. She was probably worried about you by now, wondering what coffee shop was open quite this late at night.

“I can take care of myself,” Michael said, his tone sharp. “It isn't your job to look out for me.”

Your teeth grit together as your hand dug into your pants pocket, feeling for the key to Megan's house as the pair of you approached the front door. As much as you'd felt safe with Michael lately, your situation wasn't his to take on. Especially with what he already had going on with his family and his health. You weren't going to dump your problems onto him, too.

“Well it isn't your job to look out for me, either,” you shot back. “I'd been doing just–just fine on my own for years, Michael. I don't need you or your family risking your lives for me.” Your hand shook as you inserted the key into the lock, intentionally keeping your focus away from him. “I don't need anymore people’s lives weighing on my conscience.”

You twisted the door handle with more roughness than necessary, pushing the door open and eager for a chance to get away from Michael’s wrath for the night. You just wanted to end this shitty day already, but his hand darted out and grabbed you by the wrist, halting you in place on the front step. Your head turned sharply in his direction, prepared to tell him to leave you alone tonight, but the unexpected softness on his face immediately gave you pause.

“Grace, I–”

“Oh my God ,” Megan's voice rang through the house, cutting Michael clean off. “You've been gone for hours! Where the hell have you been? I was starting to get–”

Megan appeared around the corner from the kitchen and immediately stopped dead in her tracks when she saw you. Her eyes darted from you to Michael and then straight to the bandage on your forehead. Her mouth fell open as her eyes grew wide.

“What the hell happened?” she asked you. Her panicked gaze shifted to Michael before you could even answer as she roughly demanded, “What the hell happened to her? Why is she coming home with a bandage?”

“Nothing to worry yourself about,” you grumbled as you stepped into the house, slipping loose from Michael’s grasp before you began to take off your boots. “So leave him out of it.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Megan’s face contort into something stern as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her hardened stare fixed on Michael as he stepped inside the house a moment later, closing the door softly behind himself. Inwardly you braced yourself for another outburst–this time from your sister.

“Like hell I'm leaving him out of this!” she exclaimed, throwing a hand in his direction. “I’m not stupid, Grace. I know you weren’t at a coffee shop writing tonight. You don’t even have your laptop with you! And then you come home late with a bandage on your forehead that I damn well know wasn’t there the last time I saw you! So what the hell is going on? How’d you get hurt? And one of you better fucking answer me with the damn truth!”

“A low ranking Serpent discovered who I actually am,” you said with a sigh, pulling your last boot off of your foot. “He left a message for me to meet with him tonight in the letterbox. Birdy saw him. I didn’t exactly have a choice to not go considering what he already knew. I didn't want to worry or involve you which is why I said I’d be at the coffee shop.”

Megan immediately sucked in a sharp breath, her entire body freezing. For a moment the only sound was Michael behind you, slowly taking his own boots off. Apparently he wasn’t done reprimanding you for the evening.

“So does that mean you need to leave again? Find somewhere new to hide?” she breathed out, her body still stiff. “Is he telling the entire charter? Is Victor on his way?”

You shook your head, running a tired hand along your forehead, careful to avoid the wounded side of it. Everything was finally beginning to catch up to you from today, your body starting to feel completely exhausted from all the stress and fear. You just wanted to collapse on your bed and maybe–if you were lucky–fall into a dreamless sleep where you could forget about absolutely everything for just a short while.

“I’m not leaving, not just yet,” you assured her, brushing past her and making your way down the hall to the sitting room. “He’s after something else and he’s just trying to threaten me with calling in Victor for now.”

“And is that supposed to make me feel any better?” she asked, following closely on your heels. “What could he possibly want from you?”

You sunk into the cushions of the sofa, your body aching as you did. As your attention shifted towards your sister, you spotted Michael entering the room just over her shoulder. He leant against the doorframe to the sitting room, hanging his head almost shamefully as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Me,” Michael muttered. “He wants me.”

Megan’s brows arched up onto her forehead in surprise, her head turning over her shoulder to focus on Michael curiously.

“I can’t give ya any details–family business and all,” he explained, his voice quiet. “But he’s after me. It’s my fault he’s after your sister, that he even knows who she is.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you shook your head. “No, that’s not true,” you disagreed. “He’s after me because of my psychotic ex. This has nothing to do with you.”

Michael’s head rose, his sad eyes meeting yours from across the room. The frustration you’d felt towards him a few minutes ago quickly dissipated at the sight of the pain visible on his face.

“But he was the one tailin’ us after I took ya out for coffee, wasn’t he? That’s how he found out ‘bout ya, isn’t it?” Michael pressed. “He was after me and found ya in the process. So it's my fault he knows who ya really are.”

You pulled a face immediately, your mouth opening to counter his argument. But Megan held out her hands, the gesture quieting both of you.

“Let's not turn this into a battle of who's to blame,” she said, turning her focus back on you. “So the problem stands that someone in the nearby charter knows you’re Victor’s ex and that you’re here. What the hell is being done about that? Because I’m guessing you’re not about to give up your boyfriend to the MC.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you corrected her, your cheeks heating as you avoided Michael’s stare. “And yes, something is being figured out. Like I said, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. I’ll handle it, okay? But honestly after tonight, all I want to do is go to sleep. I’m fucking tired and I just…don’t want to think anymore. It’s late.”

“Fine,” Megan relented. “But are you okay?”

“Yes,” you assured her.

Megan’s eyes narrowed at you before she turned, focusing on Michael across the room. She threw a thumb in your direction and you rolled your eyes when she spoke.

“Is she really alright?” she asked him.

“Took a good hit to the head with the butt of a gun,” he told her, pausing when Megan let out a hiss. “But I think she’s alrigh’ despite that. Though I…was plannin’ on offerin’ to stay the night here if ya didn’t mind, Megan. Sleep on the sofa down here just to make sure that Serpent doesn’t show back up in the middle of the night or anythin’.” A sheepish smile crossed his lips as he added quietly, “I’d feel better knowin’ ya weren’t both here alone.”

“You know, I’d probably actually feel better if you stayed here too after finding all this out,” Megan told him. “So it’s fine by me. I can try to find some more comfortable pillows–”

“What’s there is already fine,” he assured her. “I don’t need anythin’ more, really.”

“Okay, well,” Megan began awkwardly, her eyes darting between you and Michael as she took a step back towards the staircase. “I’ll just go get ready for bed now that you’re finally home safe. I’ve got another early shift in the morning tomorrow.”

Michael nodded his head, smiling at her and murmuring a soft ‘goodnight.’ You watched as your sister made her way quietly up the stairs, shooting you a curious last glance over her shoulder before she disappeared from sight. And then it was just you and Michael in the room.

A silence fell over the pair of you as he remained standing over by the sitting room entrance. Your gaze fell to your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap, aware of the weight of the gun in your jacket pocket once again. Most likely in a few days you’d have to use it. And you certainly hoped you could, when the time came for it.

“I think I’m just going to head to bed,” you eventually said, breaking the silence when it started to feel suffocating.

“Alrigh’,” Michael replied softly.

For the second time this evening you felt your stomach sink to your feet as you rose from the sofa. You were certain you’d somehow gone and messed things up with Michael when you’d lied to him about where you were going earlier and he’d found out. He'd certainly seemed pissed at you for that.

But maybe that’s for the best, you told yourself as you made your way up the stairs. Maybe I shouldn’t get attached. If I need to run again soon, feelings would just make that harder.

Gasping for air, you woke up with a cold sheen of sweat covering your skin. Your eyes flew around the mostly darkened bedroom as you tried to orient yourself while your heart thundered away in your chest. Fear spiking within you at the lingering memory of his voice in your ear, you swore you could feel the cold blade of a knife pressed to your stomach.

Feeling like the bedsheets themselves were trying to hold you down, you began wildly flailing in an attempt to throw them off of you, swinging your arms and feet as you tried to free yourself. A few tears slipped out of your eyes as you did, your panicked mind still replaying threats on repeat.

It was a few moments before you’d finally untangled yourself from the sheets, scrambling backwards against the headboard and sitting upright. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath, the back of your hand running along your sweat-dampened forehead gently.

“Just a nightmare,” you whispered to yourself. “Not real. He’s not here.”

But he’s looking for you. And this time he’s probably going to do more than add another scar if he finds you.

Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, your right hand reached down, sliding the hem of your shirt upwards a little. You lightly brushed your fingertips over the three gashes on your abdomen that had scarred over. A brand to your skin that you’d never be able to remove, permanently marking you as his . A strangled noise slipped out of you and you clamped your teeth down harder, trying to quiet the sound.

“Grace?”

You audibly gasped as your head spun towards the sound of your name, your pulse speeding at the fear of an intruder. But in the faint light filtering in past your curtains, you could make out the sight of Michael standing halfway in the doorway, a look of concern etched across his features.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle ya,” he whispered. “Just thought I heard somethin’ from downstairs and I figured I’d make sure things were alright’.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, quickly lowering your shirt. “Just had a bad dream but I’m fine.”

The bedroom door swung open just a bit wider and you watched as Michael stepped slowly into the bedroom. The corners of your lips curved downwards as you continued to try to calm your breathing. If he was up here to lecture you again, you certainly weren’t interested in hearing it.

“D’ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” he offered.

“No,” you answered simply.

Michael nodded, taking another hesitant step into the bedroom and closing the door partially behind himself as he did. His other hand ran over the back of his neck as he ducked his head. You watched him wordlessly, drawing your legs up towards your chest.

“‘M’sorry ‘bout the way I went off on ya earlier,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that. Ya were scared and tryin’ to do what ya thought was right. But ya…ya scared me, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Your tongue darted out, licking your lips nervously. That was not what you’d expected to hear him say after the way things had played out earlier.

“If somethin’ had happened to ya–especially because o’ me–I don't think I could forgive myself,” he murmured, shifting back and forth on his feet as he focused on the bedroom floor.

“I told you already, it wasn't your fault,” you replied.

“Except it is,” he stated firmly, glancing up at you through the darkness. “That Serpent is lookin’ for a way to get to me. To kill me . And unfortunately you're gettin’ dragged into all my shit because of the things I did. And I can't forgive myself for that.”

You hugged your arms around your knees, guilt flooding you as you pulled them tighter to your chest. You realized that he had probably reacted the way he had tonight because of the accident which had resulted in his ex-wife's passing. Something he didn't know you knew about yet. It made sense then why he was so determined to protect you, and why he refused to let you be the one to take the risk killing the Serpent. He didn’t want your death on his conscience, either. Because it was apparent he'd find a way to blame himself for it no matter what.

“How about we both agree this mess is a combination of both of our problems?” you suggested quietly.

“I would, but the difference is that I actually did things to deserve to be in this mess,” Michael told you. “Whereas ya didn't do anythin’ to deserve the fuckin’ shitty situation your ex has put ya in.”

“Okay,” you said, shooting him a sad smile, “I think I agree with what Megan said earlier. Let's not play the blame game. Pointing fingers at ourselves won't change the situation anyway.”

“Mmm,” Michael hummed. “I s'pose ya got a point.”

Another silence fell between the pair of you, though this one was vastly less uncomfortable than the previous one in the sitting room. You chewed your lip nervously as Michael stood beside your bed, his eyes clearly focused on you through the dark. His presence was beginning to soothe you the longer he stayed and you soon found yourself not wanting him to go back downstairs. Especially not after that nightmare. Despite your better judgment, you found yourself wanting to ask for what you really wanted for once.

“Can I…ask you a favor?” you whispered.

“Always,” Michael replied immediately.

Eyes falling down towards the bed, one of your hands dropped down to your side. Nervously your fingers fidgeted with the sheets, twisting them as you tried to find the courage to ask him to stay here with you. Part of you knew it was safer and smarter to stop letting him get closer to you, especially with danger already looming on the horizon. But the other part of you craved the comfort he always somehow managed to bring you, something you hadn't felt in a long time.

“Could you maybe…stay with me?” you asked, shyly looking back up at him. “Just for tonight?”

“O’course,” he answered. “I'm here whenever ya need me.”

Michael made his way around the foot of the bed, your eyes following his form through the darkness as he did. You saw him pull something out of the waistband at the back of his jeans, realizing a moment later it was the gun he'd had earlier. He set it onto the nightstand before he turned, adjusting the rumpled mess you'd made of the sheets on the bed and pulling them back up before he climbed onto the mattress himself.

You began to slide back down along the headboard, rolling onto your side towards him and slipping back beneath the sheets. As he settled onto the mattress next to you, he turned onto his side, facing you in return. A bit of moonlight crept in just around the edge of your curtains, a thin ray of it illuminating part of his face in all the blackness. The corners of his lips were curved upwards just the faintest bit.

“Didn't think ya would want me with ya tonight,” Michael murmured.

Your stomach fluttered at his words and the position you'd found yourself in with him. Both of you were barely half a foot apart from each other now, eyes locked on one another. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him and heating you beneath the sheets. Your hand clutched tighter to your pillow as you fought the urge to wrap it around him and pull yourself closer to him instead, desperate for connection.

“You make me feel safe,” you confessed, the words falling out of your mouth before you could stop them. “And less alone. For the first time in a long time.”

Gradually Michael’s hand slipped up out of the sheets, reaching out towards you and gently landing on your cheek. His fingertips lightly brushed away a few strands of hair before they affectionately began to lightly stroke your skin. You could feel your heart beating harder in your chest under his touch, the sound of it loud to your own ears. Your skin was beginning to heat beneath his fingers and your own only curled tighter around your pillowcase.

“Ya do the same for me, pet,” he whispered back.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You hadn't expected him to tell you that. You also hadn't expected it to feel so good to hear him tell you that, either.

Michael shifted on the bed, sliding closer to you as his palm cradled your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered shut the moment you felt his soft lips press a lingering kiss to your forehead. A warm, pleasant sensation felt like it was racing up your spine the longer his mouth remained pressed against your forehead. It was a feeling that felt a lot like safety and acceptance.

Without thinking, your hand released the pillow and darted out, wrapping its way around Michael as your fingers clutched at his back. You drew your body in tight against his, raising your head from the pillow as you did. Michael’s lips faltered along your forehead at the movement, but you quickly caught his lips with yours in his brief surprise.

He didn’t pull away or hesitate. Instead, his own mouth molded itself to yours, his hand sliding its way down your cheek and resting along your neck, pulling you in closer to him to deepen the kiss. He kissed you back with such intensity that your fingers fisted his shirt in your grasp, your mind going blank to everything except how good this moment felt. How good he made you feel.

But unfortunately the kiss ended far sooner than you'd have liked.

Michael pulled away only a fraction from you, the tip of his nose affectionately brushing the tip of yours. You could just make out the little smile on his lips in the dark, the sight almost leaving you as breathless as that kiss had.

“For what it's worth,” he whispered, thumb caressing the line of your jaw tenderly, “I'm glad ya found yourself here in Dublin.”

Your hand released the tight grip on his shirt, sliding its way up from out of the sheets and up towards his face. Your own fingertips gently toyed with the dark hairs of his beard, your eyes watching the smile on his face grow wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. What you wouldn’t give to always see him smile like that.

“I'm glad I found you,” you whispered back.

For however long I can have you.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #kin bbc

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bellaxgiornata · 5 months

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Sixteen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: It has been so long since this series got an update, but the meeting with Frank and Birdy is finally here! I ended up splitting this chapter in two in order to get this update out sooner, so the rest of the evening will be in the next chapter. Feedback is always appreciated!

Exiting the bathroom and making your way down the hallway, you spotted Michael and Jimmy standing on either side of the entryway to Birdy's dining room. Both of them were absolutely silent beside the french doors that were splayed wide as you approached. You could feel the tension steadily rising in the house as you made your way over, taking in the sight of the brothers where they stood. Jimmy was leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his jacket pockets looking tense, but not nearly as tense as Michael looked with his back to you, his hands tightly curled into fists at his sides. You wondered how pissed at you he still was for secretly meeting up with that Serpent tonight, but now knowing what the biker had wanted, you were grateful Michael hadn’t tagged along and gotten himself killed.

You came to a stop just half a step behind Michael, pausing in the hallway just outside of the dining room. Reaching up, your fingertips gently ghosted over the fresh bandage on your forehead, wincing faintly as the wound stung. Frank shifted in his seat over at the dining table, the movement catching your eye just beyond Michael’s shoulder. Your hand lowered back to your side, your stomach churning uncomfortably at the cold, hardened stare Frank had seemed to reserve especially for you this evening.

A moment later Birdy was making her way down the hallway after you, the sound of her footsteps loud in the growing silence. She had been the one to tend to the wound that the Serpent had given you with the butt of his gun before Michael even had a chance to say anything. The second she’d spotted the blood on your face when you’d appeared on her doorstep, she’d shot Dotser a stern, disapproving look before guiding you wordlessly down the hallway and to a bathroom. She had been nothing but gentle and efficient as she cleaned and bandaged you in silence, though her blue eyes would often catch yours and soften, something that had you looking away and fighting back tears.

But now that your injury had been seen to, you knew everyone wanted to get down to business. As Birdy passed by you on her way into the room and over to the table, you felt one of her hands give your shoulder a gentle, comforting squeeze. Your throat tightened further at the small gesture of support amidst the growing tension in the room–tension you knew was caused by you. The look on Frank’s face had told you more than enough to know that he wasn’t going to welcome you here with open arms tonight. And you figured that once he learned what was going on, he’d be even more displeased with you.

“Is somebody goin’ to tell me what the fuck this is all ‘bout now?” Frank asked in irritation, his voice finally breaking the enduring silence. “Why are we suddenly havin’ this impromptu family meetin’?”

He sat forward in his chair, clasping his hands together as his eyes darted between Michael, Jimmy, and Birdy. He was intentionally ignoring your presence now, you noted. Making it only more apparent how unwelcome and unwanted you were–furthering the point that you weren’t a part of this family. Awkwardly you crossed your arms over your chest, swallowing hard and preparing to answer his question since you knew everyone was here because of you. But it was Birdy who was the one to speak up.

“I called ya here because we’ve got another problem, Frank,” she told him from her place across the table from him. “One I think the Kinsellas should be made aware of now.”

“And what the hell is that?” Frank snapped at her.

“Well,” Birdy said with a sigh, leaning back in her chair as her focus shifted to you, “it appears our new neighbor has a bit of a past. One that’s found her here in Dublin. And it involves the Serpents of Hell.”

Frank’s dark gaze abruptly landed back on you and you stiffened. Somehow the frown managed to deepen further on his face as he glared at you in distaste, eyeing you up and down. In front of you, you saw the way Michael’s shoulders squared at Frank’s obvious scrutiny of you.

“How the fuck is any o’ that our problem?” Frank asked, his glare still fixed on you. “We’ve got enough trouble we’re dealin’ with at the moment already, we aren’t takin’ on charity cases for someone who doesn't matter to the family.”

“Watch yourself, Frank,” Michael warned, voice low.

You watched as Frank’s eyes shifted towards Michael. Something like the look of surprise briefly crossed his features, but that was quickly replaced with growing irritation. Though a warmth sparked in your stomach at seeing Michael come to your defense; you figured he must not be quite so angry with you if he was still at least sticking up for you to his family.

“The Serpents asked her to meet with them tonight,” Birdy continued. “Which is why I had Dotser bring her. And now,” she said, her head turning as her eyes returned to you, “I’d like to know what they wanted. Because I’ve got a strong feelin’ that it’s got somethin’ to do with us.”

All four sets of eyes gradually found their way to you around the room. You took a moment examining each face, noticing how Birdy looked deeply curious with one of her dark brows raised in a silent question. Frank was staring at you with narrowed eyes looking as if he wanted any excuse to tear into you–and admittedly that was making you nervous despite Michael’s presence nearby. Jimmy’s expression looked fairly neutral and hard to place, which once again left you wondering what Michael had told him about you. And while Michael’s face looked stern, his eyes were offering you silent support, urging you to speak up. Licking your lips nervously, you sucked in a breath and attempted to gather the courage to explain what had happened tonight.

“It was one Serpent,” you began, reluctantly pulling your gaze away from Michael and focusing on Birdy and Frank at the dining table. “Just one Serpent who wanted to meet. He appeared to be low ranking from the patches on his cut. But he knows who I am.” You shot Birdy a meaningful look as you continued. “My real name and who I’m running from. Who I’m connected to.”

“And who’s that?” Jimmy asked curiously as he pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he faced you.

“My uh, my ex,” you confessed awkwardly, your hands beginning to fidget at your sides. “His name is Victor, but the Serpents refer to him as the Viper. He’s the Sergeant at Arms for the MC’s mother charter back in the States.”

Jimmy’s head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowing in further curiosity. “Sergeant at Arms?” he questioned. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“He ranks just below the mother charter's President and Vice President. It's his job to uphold MC security and order,” you explained, trying to force memories that were clawing at the back of your mind away. “He’s also commonly used as a sort of…assassin, you could say. The different charters might call him in if they’re dealing with a serious enough problem. And then he…deals with it. Permanently.”

Jimmy’s brows both flew up onto his forehead before his attention shifted over towards his brother. Michael’s eyes met his and you watched as some sort of silent exchange passed between the pair of them. Across the room at the dining table you heard Frank mutter a curse under his breath at your explanation. Clearing your throat, you figured you should probably finish telling them the rest of the truth.

“As you can probably guess, he uh, he wasn’t the kindest to me in the end,” you said, your attention dropping down to the hardwood floor. “Eventually I got away from him and I’ve been running from him for a few years now. Living under fake identities. Moving from city to city. I had no idea there was a charter here in Ireland, though. Or that–that you all were my sister’s neighbors and were involved in the uh, the things that you are.” You paused, noticing the way Frank’s jaw tightened at your mention of their illegal activities out of your peripheral. “If I had, I would have chosen not to come here. But that isn’t exactly the entire issue anymore now.”

You paused again, your eyes briefly closing as you remembered the encounter from earlier tonight. The threat the Serpent had made to you about giving up Michael and what would happen if you didn’t. Your stomach twisted uneasily at the memory of his words.

“It appears you were right, Birdy,” you confessed.

At the table, the brunette perked up, straightening in her chair. “Right about what, dear?” she asked slowly.

You looked up, meeting her eyes from across the room. “The Serpents want Eamon as their supplier,” you told her. “You were right.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Frank snapped, rolling his eyes and slumping back in his chair. “‘Course they fuckin’ do.”

Birdy somehow sat up even straighter, her blue eyes practically piercing through you at this information. She knew there was more to the story than that, it was written all over her face.

“And what did this snake want?” she asked, her voice a deadly calm as if she already knew the answer. “How was he plannin’ to get the Serpents a deal with Eamon by usin’ ya?”

Your eyes briefly flew to Michael as he hung his head. Him and Jimmy already knew this part, the part that was making your stomach roil and fill with the urge to be sick. You could still feel the weight of the burner phone in your jacket pocket, opposite of the pocket that still contained the gun Birdy had given you.

“He wants me to give him Michael,” you replied. “Because Eamon wants all of you dead, but the highest bounty is on Michael. And he…knows that Michael and I have spent some time together, so he figured he could threaten me to give him up in order to keep myself safe.”

A dangerous look slipped onto Frank’s face as he abruptly leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on you. “If ya even so much as think ‘bout doin’ that, there’ll be a bullet in your head faster than ya can blink,” he growled at you. “Even if I have to put it there myself.”

“That’s enough , Frank,” Michael warned again as he took a step towards him. “Ya won’t so much as even touch her, ya hear me?”

Frank sent Michael a look of disbelief, waving a hand in your direction. “D’ya really think this piece o’ ass is worth the hassle, boy? Ya don’t think she’d throw ya to that motorcycle club just to save her own skin? Did your time in prison really make ya that soft, Mikey? That goddamn blind? Ya damn well know what to do when a threat to this family rears its fuckin’ head.”

“That won’t be happenin’, Frank,” Birdy chimed in, her tone dark.

Michael advanced on Frank, his stride cold and deliberate as his hands once again curled into tight fists at his sides. You saw the way Frank recoiled in his chair under what must’ve been that same murderous look you’d witnessed on Michael’s face earlier this evening. A shudder ran through you at the sight of him once again standing up to his family for you, especially considering the circumstances.

“Now I know ya aren’t suggestin’ what I think ya are suggestin’ by that, are ya, Frank?” Michael’s cold voice asked. “Because I really don’t think ya want to be insinuatin’ that. Not to me.”

Frank let out a humorless laugh, but you were quite aware of the terror hidden behind it. You didn’t know much about Michael’s past, not having delved deep enough into it once you’d uncovered the information about his deceased wife, but the way everyone appeared to cower from him–even Frank, who seemed to be the one in charge of the Kinsella clan–had you wondering just how dangerous Michael could be. Especially considering how safe and protected he’d always made you feel.

“Oh come on now, Michael,” Frank began placatingly. “Ya know I’m just lookin’ out for ya. She’s just pussy, she’s not–”

Michael slammed a hand firmly onto the table, the noise effectively shutting up Frank. The harsh noise also visibly caused Birdy to jump in her seat as Jimmy took a cautious step forward, a look of uncertainty crossing his features.

“Call her that again and see what happens,” Michael threatened, his tone dangerously calm despite his body language. “I dare you.”

Silence fell in the room as the tension palpably rose. Michael didn’t move from his intimidating place towering over Frank, one hand still flat along the dining table and trapping Frank in his chair. You figured you should say something, cut the tension and try to salvage the situation. There was a very real issue that needed to be resolved, one you could truly use their help with, and this wasn’t the way to accomplish that tonight.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you blurted out.

The attention in the room returned to you once more and caused you to nervously shift on your feet. Even Michael had glanced over his shoulder, his gaze fixed on you. Though you could still see the dark and dangerous look plain across his face, the muscle jumping in his cheek.

“I don’t want Victor to find me, but I’m also not going to give Michael up,” you assured Frank with a firm shake of your head. “That’s not me. I wouldn’t do that. And if I could just–just disappear like I usually do and have that make this entire situation go away to keep everyone safe, I would. But I can’t. Because if I run, that Serpent will just tell the charter what he knows and then Victor will be out here picking all of you off one by one. And I’m positive he’d include my sister in his body count. So me running isn’t an option this time.”

“So what’re ya suggestin’, dear?” Birdy called out.

“The only logical conclusion I have been able to come to,” you said, trying to keep the tremor from your voice. “He gave me three days to give Michael up. If I run or don’t do as he asked, he’s telling the Serpents about me and we’re all guaranteed to be as good as dead if Victor comes here.”

Michael pushed off of the dining room table, turning on the spot and leaving Frank forgotten behind him. His eyes were narrowed as they scrutinized you, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“What’re ya gettin’ at, Grace?” he asked.

Your eyes met Michael’s as you held his gaze. You knew he wasn’t going to like what you were going to say, but it was the only plan you could think of when you were in the car heading here. It wasn’t like you had a lot of time to think of alternative options. In the end, you needed to do what needed to be done to protect everyone. Even if you didn’t want this to be the solution.

“I play along,” you answered him, ignoring the way Michael immediately bristled. “In two days I tell him I’ve lured you out somewhere. Somewhere private that wouldn’t seem suspicious. Tell him that you’re expecting to meet me. But when he shows up…” your voice trailed off, your eyes darting to Birdy before they dropped to the floor again. “You aren’t there. And I kill him instead.”

“ No ,” Michael immediately responded, voice firm. “Absolutely not. That is not happening.”

“There aren't really any other options here, Michael,” you pointed out.

He took a step towards you, his hand swiftly raising up as he dug a finger hard into his own chest. His face was set firm as a dangerous fire burned back at you from his eyes.

“ I'll kill him,” he stated, jabbing his finger into his chest for emphasis. “This isn't a job ya can handle, Grace. There isn't a fuckin’ way in hell I'd let ya even try!”

Your eyes narrowed back at him in defiance, your own hands balling into fists at your sides. His jaw tensed further as he stared you down.

“You don't think he'd see that coming?” you shot back. “Don't think he'd expect it from you? He's going to want to catch you off guard, Michael. And if he can't, you don't think he's going to immediately realize he's being set up?”

“She has a point, love,” Birdy called out.

A noise like a rumbling growl came out of Michael as he turned, his dark glare landing on her. Birdy looked entirely unbothered as she shrugged a single shoulder at him.

“Now I'm not sayin’ the poor girl needs to be the one doin’ the killin’, but I'm sure this…biker is goin’ to be expectin’ a set up if ya aren't left unaware of what's comin’,” she continued. “He's goin’ to want an easy target, anythin’ less than that is goin’ to raise suspicion, Mikey.”

“I'm not lettin’ her pull the goddamn trigger,” Michael snarled at her.

“They've both got a point, Michael,” Frank cut in, one of his hands rubbing his chin as he gazed down at his lap in thought. “Though I'm guessin’ she's never pulled a trigger before and I'm not sure I trust her not to fuck this up. But…it does seem to be the only solution. If it's just one man…”

“I can handle it,” you assured him, squaring your shoulders and ignoring the racing of your heart. “But you're going to need a way to dispose of the–” you winced, “–the body after. You won't want a Serpent's death possibly being connected to your family at all or you'll have the whole charter coming down on you.”

Michael once again spun around, his fiery gaze back on you. “Ya aren't doin’ this Grace and that's final,” he snapped.

Birdy rose from her chair, a smile on her face as she crossed the room and made her way over to Michael. She wrapped a single arm around his shoulders, though the tension in his body didn't remotely lessen at her touch.

“Grace has had a long and difficult evenin’,” she told Michael as she directed that calm, soft smile on you. “Why don't ya bring her home and make sure she's alrigh’ after everythin’, yeah?” she suggested gently. “Leave the situation to Frank and I to figure out tonight and we'll go over it with ya tomorrow.”

“She's not killin’ anyone, Birdy,” Michael warned her.

“Hey,” Jimmy said, catching his brother's attention as he took a step towards him, “I'll stay and help them figure this all out. I owe ya that for everythin’ ya have done for me lately. Just bring your girl home tonight, brother. Don't worry ‘bout the details o’ all this right now.”

Michael stared at his brother for a long moment, his eyes hard and still alight with something fierce burning in them. Once again it looked as if they were having a silent conversation that the rest of you weren't privy to. After a minute, Michael finally nodded.

“Fine, we'll leave ya to it,” Michael reluctantly replied. “But ya know where I stand on this, brother. She’s not killin’ anyone.”

Jimmy nodded solemnly in response and only then did some tension visibly leave Michael’s body. Birdy gave Michael a quick, one-armed squeeze before she released her arm from around him, shooting you another warm smile.

“Go. Get some rest tonight, dear,” she told you. “Ya deserve it.”

Michael crossed the few steps towards you before wrapping an arm around your waist. You instantly relaxed into his side, grateful of that safety and protection he always seemed to exude. You let him begin to guide you down the hall and out of Birdy's house as the conversation picked back up in the dining room. You already felt better with Michael at your side, but just as he reached out and opened the front door for you, his next words gave you pause.

“Don't think we don't have things to talk about after tonight, Grace,” he warned you. “Because I told ya earlier that I wasn't done discussin’ this with ya.”

A sinking feeling hit you hard, your stomach nearly dropping to the floor at your feet. All you could do was nod slowly before exiting the house, nervous of the conversation that was about to happen. You should have realized he wasn't going to let this whole situation go so easily.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella #kin

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bellaxgiornata · 9 months

Text

Keep Me Warm

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: After Michael cancels your date night because something came up with his family, you're surprised to find him on your doorstep drenched and shivering from the rain.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ because this is mainly just smut, friends

a/n: It has been far too long that I've been writing for Michael without giving him smut and that changes now! This one was also was written for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge by the wonderful @she-likesorchids using the prompt "Get inside, you're all wet!" Feedback is always appreciated!

Warmly cocooned in your navy blue blanket, you were curled up on your sofa with the glow from your television softly washing over you in your sitting room. Your empty wine glass sat long forgotten on your coffee table beside an empty takeout container, the buzz from the wine still lingering in your system and relaxing you further into the cushions. While you sat comfortably enraptured by the romantic comedy you’d decided to put on for the evening, the soft patter of autumn rain and the distant roll of thunder enveloped your house outside.

Initially you’d hoped to be spending your Saturday night with Michael, not alone on your sofa watching fictional couples falling in love. The pair of you were supposed to have gone out for dinner tonight for what would have been your third date, but something had come up with his family’s business–which you knew he’d been trying to find a way out of lately. He’d been incredibly apologetic when he’d called you a few hours ago to cancel, and you’d been understanding but secretly disappointed because it had been a long awaited third date.

You’d had a crush on Michael since you first met him just over a year ago, having accidentally bumped into him at the market while picking out produce. The pair of you had gotten together for friendly reasons after a handful of more fortuitous run-ins at the market–going book shopping, on coffee dates, or having occasional dinners at your house–but they had always been under the pretense of friendship. Until you’d accidentally slipped up and blurted that you’d found him attractive a month ago and he’d shortly afterwards asked you on a date.

And tonight, after that date, you’d admittedly been hoping to do more than just exchange a few sweet kisses with him.

Though you pushed those thoughts aside, trying to ignore that lingering bit of disappointment you’d spent your evening attempting to drown out with the takeout and wine. Michael had rescheduled with you for next Saturday night at least. And, if you were really that desperate, it wasn’t like you couldn’t have a date with your vibrator before bed tonight, even if you’d have preferred Michael.

A handful of hurried, sharp raps against your front door abruptly rang out through your house, breaking you from your thoughts. You jumped on the sofa at the unexpected knocking, startling at the sound as your heart skipped a beat in your chest. Eyes darting to your front door across the room, you felt a bolt of fear quickly shoot through you. Who would’ve been stopping by unannounced this late and in the middle of a storm?

When another round of knocks sounded a few moments later, this time not as urgent as before, you hesitantly began to unwrap yourself from within the comfortable and safe confines of your blanket. Leaning forward, you pushed the pause button on the television remote beside your wine glass before standing up. Cautiously you made your way over to the front door, nervously unlocking it before very slowly pulling it open.

A surprised gasp slipped out of you when you found Michael drenched on your front step, his dark hair matted to his head from the rain. A few beads of water were dripping down his forehead and his chin, the black sweater he was wearing clinging to his muscled upper torso. Your eyes were unable to resist lowering and lingering on the visible definition of his body beneath the soaked material, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight. Momentarily you wondered how he'd look without the sweater until a crack of distant thunder quickly brought your attention back up to Michael’s face. He was sheepishly smiling back at you.

"Michael!" you exclaimed in surprise, your brain abruptly restarting as you stepped to the side and quickly waved him into your house. "Get inside, you're all wet!"

Following your order, Michael stepped inside past you, his arms wrapping around himself as he did. You closed the door after him before turning back around. He was still shooting you that sheepish smile, his sopping wet clothes dripping water onto your wood floor.

"'M really sorry to pop in on ya like this, pet," he told you.

"What're you doing out walking in the freezing rain, Mikey?" you asked, concern creasing your brow. "There's a storm going on and you're out wandering around in it. And I thought you had a…family thing tonight?"

Michael unwrapped one arm from around himself, awkwardly rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. His gaze dropped down to the floor, that bit of timidness you sometimes saw in him on full display at the moment. Somehow that shyness only ever made you like him more.

"I don't–don't exactly know what came over me but I just–just had to get away from that house tonight. And my family–" he broke off with a grimace, shaking his head. "It just was not a good night and I needed to blow off some steam. And unfortunately it started to downpour while I was out walkin'. Sort of…somehow found myself here."

He wrapped his arm back around himself, hugging his chest as his gaze remained on your floor. Your heart ached for him. You knew how much he wanted out of his family’s drug dealing business and how they were making his life more difficult because of it. Though when you saw him visibly shudder from the cold, your concern for him in the moment took right back over.

"Shit, you must be freezing," you said, crossing the distance between you both.

Gently you rested your hands over his, hissing in surprise at how cold his actually were to the touch. Michael's head rose up as he caught your eye, a small grin on his lips as you covered his hands with yours, hoping to help warm them.

"Well, I'll tell ya it wasn't the smartest thing I've done today, walkin' in the freezing rain like that," he replied with a laugh. "Then comin' here and botherin' ya."

"You're not bothering me, Mikey," you assured him, swiftly gesturing a hand to your sitting room where your empty remnants of dinner still sat on the coffee table. "It's not like I was in the middle of anything."

Michael glanced over his shoulder at your coffee table, a frown slipping onto his mouth as another chill raced through him. With your hands still wrapped around his, you could feel the way his body had shook this time.

"Pet, I'm–I'm so sorry I canceled on ya tonight," Michael said, his teeth briefly chattering as he spoke. "Didn't mean to ruin your evenin'."

"You didn't ruin my evening, but now I'm concerned about you. You’re clearly cold," you told him, your hands rubbing over the backs of his. "I can offer you a towel to dry off a bit, but maybe you'd like to use the shower to warm up instead? I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer for a few minutes while you do. Might help you warm up faster."

One corner of Michael’s lips slowly curved upwards into a cheeky smirk. The sight of it on his face was quickly drawing heat into your cheeks and you hoped he couldn’t tell.

"Are ya just tryin' to get me outta my clothes, pet?" Michael teased.

"What?" you gasped, eyes wide. "No! I just thought that you–you might–"

"Relax," he said with a chuckle. "I'm just teasin’ ya. But…I wouldn't mind takin' ya up on the offer. I am freezin' my arse off right 'bout now."

Releasing his hands, you stepped back and nodded vigorously at him. "Yeah, right. Of course. Just uh, just hop in the shower and leave your clothes on the floor next to the door. I'll throw them in the dryer when you're in the shower."

Michael nodded, slipping his wet shoes off of his feet where he stood. You watched him, gnawing nervously on your bottom lip and struggling not to picture him naked in your shower. Your eyes once again lingered on the way his damp sweater clung to the muscles in his back as he bent down, picking up his shoes from the floor before walking past you and placing them on the shoe rack beside your door. He sent you a smile as he stood back up, one that had your face further flaming.

"Just goin' to grab that shower then," he said, gesturing behind himself with one hand while the other rubbed his arm for warmth.

You cleared your throat, a strained smile forming on your lips as your heart began to beat a little harder in your chest. Michael had always had an effect on you, but it had become vastly harder to ignore now that you knew he had feelings for you, too. But as you told him where to find the clean towels in the bathroom, you couldn’t help but feel desperate to follow after him and join.

As Michael made his way towards your bathroom, softly shuttling the door behind himself and turning on the shower, you tried to give him time to get undressed and into it before you grabbed his clothes to put into the dryer. Attempting to distract yourself from the rush of inappropriate thoughts suddenly racing through your mind, you headed back into the sitting room and turned off your television before focusing on cleaning up your empty glass of wine and the take out container on your coffee table.

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and straightening your house a bit, you figured Michael would be in the shower and you could step in and grab his clothes. Making your way down the hallway and towards the bathroom, you stopped beside it, leaning up against the wall and knocking lightly against the door.

"I'm just going to grab your clothes to toss into the dryer, if that's alright?" you called through the door to Michael.

"Thank ya, pet," Michael called back.

Closing your eyes, you mentally prepared yourself to not try to immediately sneak a peak of him through the glass shower door. Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and slowly twisted the handle of the door, keeping your gaze averted towards the ground as you opened it.

Exactly as you’d asked, he'd placed his clothes on the floor beside the door. But just as you reached down to grab the damp pile to put into the dryer, you heard the glass door of the shower open and you startled at the sound. Unable to stop yourself, your eyes darted up to see Michael’s face poking out from around the glass. Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, you bit down hard and forced yourself to keep your focus on just his face, though you knew if you looked down–just for a second–you’d get a view of his naked body behind the frosted and steamed up shower door. And it was truly hard to resist that temptation, especially with the way he was shooting you a knowing smile right now.

"Unless ya want to join me?" he asked.

Your brows jumped up onto your forehead in surprise. That was not what you’d expected to hear him say, but nevertheless, a spark of excitement shot through your body at his invitation.

“If ya want, of course,” he added. “Wouldn’t mind ya helpin’ to keep me warm, pet.”

It felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs with the way he’d said that in such a sultry tone, continuing to stare at you while he was entirely naked from the inside of your shower. Swallowing hard, you tried to regain the ability to speak again before he took your silence to mean the opposite of what it really meant.

“I–yeah, if you–you’d like,” you stammered.

You dropped his clothes from your hand, hearing the way they landed back to the floor with a soft, wet thump . As you stepped further into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door after yourself, Michael slid the shower door wider open, giving you an unobstructed view of himself. Hands grabbing onto the hem of your shirt, your eyes dropped down, tongue darting out and wetting your lips when you saw that he was already half hard.

“Might’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout ya already,” he confessed.

His words went straight to your cunt as you began to remove your shirt, though you saw his eyes lower towards your chest just before you pulled it up and over your head. A needy heat began to grow between your thighs as you tossed the shirt onto the bathroom floor. Reaching behind yourself, you undid the clasp of your bra, a thrill racing up your spine as you watched the longing grow on Michael’s face, his eyes still fixed on your chest. You intentionally slid the straps of your bra down your arms slowly, taking your time removing it before you tossed it aside. You saw the way Michael’s nostrils flared as you began to slip out of your sweatpants and underwear, his jaw tensed as you tugged them halfway down your legs until they dropped to the bathroom floor beside his wet clothes.

As you stepped out of them, entirely naked now, Michael’s eyes openly and hungrily raked over your body. It felt like his gaze alone was raising goosebumps over your bare skin as you made your way over to the shower. He moved out of the way of the entrance, giving you room to step inside beside him under the warm spray. The water felt good against your skin, managing to heat you further as that sexy smirk only grew on Michael’s lips.

His hands gently landed on your hips, eagerly smoothing his palms over your slippery and damp skin. Your own hands lightly landed on the thick, wet hair along his chest. Appreciatively you began carding your fingers through it, nails lightly scratching along his chest as you admired the muscles beneath your fingers. Michael hummed out a pleased noise in response, his hands gripping your hips a bit more roughly in return.

Eventually your hands rose back up his chest, your palms splayed wide along the width of it just below his collarbones. You gently pushed Michael another couple of steps backwards into the shower, your confidence growing along with his erection. Reaching one hand behind yourself to close the shower door, you felt Michael’s hands make their way further up your naked body, gliding over the sides of your ribcage as a shudder ran through you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Michael murmured, his eyes appreciatively roaming over you.

A soft gasp left you as Michael’s hands slid just a bit higher, eventually coming to palm your breasts. He kneaded them in his hands, your eyelids fluttering as you fought to keep them open. It should’ve been impossible how good he was making you feel with only his touch, yet a moan vibrated up from out of your throat and only further encouraged him. As he continued to knead your breasts in his hands, your right hand snaked its way up over his shoulder until you were wrapping your arm around his neck, pulling his naked body in towards yours. You felt his hard cock pressing against you instantly and your cunt throbbed in anticipation of him finally fucking you with it.

“You know,” you began softly, leaning in a bit closer to him, “I was thinking this wasn’t going to happen tonight.”

The corner of Michael’s lips twitched as he lowered his face towards yours, closing the gap even further as his hands released your breasts, dropping back down to grip your hips again. They involuntarily jerked towards him at the touch, a faint moan slipping out of you as more wet heat grew between your thighs.

Fuck you wanted him so goddamn bad.

“Yeah?” he asked, clearly pleased with your response. “This what ya had planned for after dinner tonight, pet?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out.

Your left hand lowered until you were wrapping it around the base of his cock, grinning at the way he jolted under your touch. Michael let out a low groan of pleasure after, his eyes becoming half-lidded as you gradually began to stroke the length of him. His forehead dropped down to yours, his warm breath tickling you with each exhale.

“Feeling any warmer?” you asked him.

“Mmm, much,” he whispered.

Continuing to stroke him in your hand, your movements languid and unhurried, you closed the last bit of space between your mouths. Michael’s lips still felt slightly chilled against yours as you kissed him, but they were as plush as you’d last remembered them being. And like hell if he didn’t know what to do with that mouth of his, too.

Though it seemed like he was intentionally teasing you now with the way his lips moved so delicately against yours, kissing you so gentle and slow that you soon found yourself impatient for more. Your arm tightened around his neck, drawing you in tighter to the front of him as a needy noise slipped out of your mouth and into his. One of his hands on your hip began gradually sliding its way down the outside of your thigh until it came to a stop, pausing before changing its trajectory. His fingers began to reach ever nearer to your cunt and you soon found yourself whining against his mouth in anticipation of his touch.

The hand you had on the back of his neck made its way further upwards into his hair, gripping a fistful of his wet, dark strands as your hips ground forward into his hand in needy desperation. Michael only continued to kiss you with that same sluggish pace, the tips of his fingers lightly grazing your clit as his other palm rubbed slow circles along your outer thigh.

Another pitiful whine left you when Michael’s lips broke away from yours, hovering just an inch from your mouth. Your hand began to stroke his cock faster in desperation, but Michael only nudged his nose softly against yours.

“Mikey,” you whimpered. “I need you.”

The deep, resonate chuckle that fell from him next echoed faintly in the shower. He hummed out a playful noise, the tip of one of his fingers intentionally brushing your clit with just a bit more pressure than before. You sucked in an audible breath at his touch, your eyes snapping shut.

“I can tell, pet,” he teased. “Though I think the question now is: d’ya want me to touch ya or d’ya want me to fuck ya?”

A shiver ran through you at his question. Truthfully you wanted both of those things, but you weren’t sure you could wait much longer for him, not with the way your cunt was practically dripping in barely contained anticipation already. Maybe once you were out of the shower you two could take your time in your bedroom with each other, but if he didn’t stuff you with his cock sometime soon, you were certainly going to lose your mind.

“I want you to fuck me, Mikey,” you answered, trying and failing to hide the absolute need in your voice. “We can save the foreplay for later. I just–just need you right now. Please .”

He nearly purred in response, the pad of one of his fingers sliding between your wet folds. You gasped in surprise, your hips involuntarily grinding down against his lone finger, hungry for more of him.

“Yeah?” he mused. “Goin’ to want more than one go, are ya?”

You whimpered when his finger found your soaked entrance, gently toying with you. You leaned forward, roughly connecting your mouth back to his, tired of the waiting and the teasing. When the tip of his finger briefly dipped only partially inside of you before retreating, your teeth clamped down onto his bottom lip and tugged . A rumbling growl reverberated in Michael’s chest instantly, his expression suddenly darkening.

��Can't wait anymore, can ya? Then turn ‘round for me, pet,” Michael ordered huskily, gesturing with his head to the glass of the shower. “Face the door.”

Without hesitation you did what he asked, both of your hands landing flat on the cool glass of the shower door. Michael’s hands grabbed your hips, pulling them towards himself as he positioned you. Your eyes closed when you felt one of his hands running along your ass, admiring the soft, wet flesh as he lined himself up with your entrance. The warm spray of the shower overhead was falling onto your back now, the chill of the air on your damp breasts along with the anticipation of Michael filling you causing your nipples to stiffen.

Thankfully Michael had decided to stop teasing you, not making you wait much longer before you felt him push just the tip of himself inside of you. Your head rolled back over your shoulders, a contented groan slipping out between your lips. He already felt so fucking good and he wasn’t even fully inside of you. Hands pressing firmer against the shower door, you whimpered as your cunt squeezed the bit of him inside of you. Michael loosed a low moan of his own that had your breath catching.

"Want all of you, Mikey," you breathed out. "Please."

Very gradually he pushed himself further into you, another moan slipping out between your lips at the slow, delicious drag of him filling you so fully. Seconds later you felt his now warm mouth landing on your shoulder, trailing soft kisses down the length of it as he continued to gradually sink himself into you.

“ Michael ,” you moaned out, fingers curling against the glass.

He felt so damn good as he bottomed out inside of you, your cunt pleasantly stretching to fit the girth of him. Another whimper slipped out of you, your head dropping farther back over your shoulder as Michael pressed the front of himself into you, his thighs flush to the back of yours now.

“That’s it, pet,” he whispered against your shoulder, lips brushing your wet skin as he spoke. “So good for me. Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for so, so long with ya. Goin' to make sure ya know how much I been wantin' ya."

You inhaled sharply at his words, the hair raising along your arms at the sound of them whispered so close to your ear. With his left hand still firmly gripping your waist, his hips carefully drew back as his right hand flew forward and landed on the top of yours. Entwining his fingers with your own, your hand still pressed against the cold glass, he began to thrust himself back into you.

That first glide of him sent your head further back, landing on his shoulder behind you with how close he was standing. Michael’s fingers tightened around yours, a rumbling moan vibrating deep in his chest that you felt against your back as he began to pick up his pace. As he continued to slam into you over and over, the wet sound loud in the shower, his head turned as he focused on you.

“ Fuck ya feel so goddamn perfect ,” he panted out, his eyes tightening in pleasure as his hips snapped forward yet again. "So wet for me, pet."

Your cunt gripped him at the praise, your eyes closing. He continued to steadily fuck you against the glass, soft grunts falling from his lips and right into your ear with each sharp snap of his hips, the noise drowning out the spray of the shower. That coiling pleasure in your stomach began to tighten, your left hand leaving the glass to reach back behind you, grabbing onto the back of Michael’s neck as he continued to fuck you from behind. Michael hissed in pleasure when your nails raked up the sensitive skin there, his mouth still beside your ear.

"Don't stop, Mikey," you whispered. "Feels so good."

“Not stoppin’ ‘til you’re cummin’ on my cock, pet,” he panted out, his hips still enthusiastically ramming into you repeatedly. “Want to hear ya whimperin’ my name between those pretty lips o’ yours.”

A soft whine dragged itself out of your throat, your eyes tightening closed at his words. His hand tightened around yours on the glass as he continued to fuck you, a delicious pleasure continually building low in your core.

Between the fervid thrusts of his cock and the way his damp body had molded itself to the back of yours, you quickly began to feel yourself climbing that peak. You were nearing the moment you’d crest it with each and every vigorous slam of his thick cock hitting you exactly where you needed him, and you could feel that resulting delicious sting shooting its way up your spine until you were literally panting heavily, your head still limp against his shoulder behind you.

“Mikey– fuck , yes–so close, baby,” you breathed out.

At your words, he picked up his pace to something fierce, his left hand snaking its way down your hip until his fingers were rubbing tantalizing circles over your clit, the heel of his palm pressing you back into him. Your eyes rolled back behind closed lids, mouth going slack instantly as a moan tumbled out of you.

As he continued to roughly fuck you into the cool glass of your shower, your left hand slid higher up the back of his neck, fisting a handful of his hair as you felt the wash of pleasure race its way up through your body. Moments later you came hard on his cock, crying his name out loudly as it echoed off the tile of the shower walls. It wasn’t long before Mikey was soon following after you, his hips picking up their pace as he let out a low, sinful groan that left you whimpering in his arms. Your entire body soon went limp against him behind you as he filled you with his warm release, your head entirely weightless as it rested on his broad shoulder behind you where it rose and fell with the heaving of his chest. His loud, panting breaths filled your ears as you gradually opened your eyes and took in the sight of him.

The moment his gaze caught yours, a drowsy smile lit up his face while you sent him one clearly drunk on bliss and pleasure. With a soft chuckle he leaned forward, placing a few gentle kisses to your temple before he slowly slipped himself out from inside of you.

“Hadn’t expected my evenin’ to go this way,” Michael admitted, his arm wrapping around your waist and snuggly pulling you against the front of himself. “But I’m certainly not regrettin’ that walk in the rain now.”

You giggled, your eyes dropping closed again as your left hand wrapped over the top of his. Both of your other hands were still enjoined on the glass door of the shower, Michael squeezing yours affectionately in response as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the rasp of his beard on your skin sending a shiver through you.

“I’m certainly not regretting it now, either,” you teased back. “And maybe once you finally get warm after that walk, we can go not regret it a little more, if you’d like?”

“Mmm,” he hummed out beside your ear, his lips dropping down to lightly kiss your neck. “I think I’m already warm after that, pet. Wouldn’t mind takin’ ya to bed though.”

A grin slipped over your mouth as you slightly turned in Michael’s hold, facing him just a bit more. “Unfortunately I didn't have a chance to dry your clothes," you pointed out. "So they're still soaked."

He placed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on your skin and a rush of heat once again raced through your body. Soon after, Michael’s teeth began to leave light nips along your neck, his hand reaching out behind himself to turn off the shower.

"I assure ya, pet,” he murmured into your skin, "I'm not goin' to need them tonight."

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella #kin amc #mandy's sweater weather challenge

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bellaxgiornata · 7 months

Text

I Can't Lose You [part two]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.5k

Summary (slightly updated now): The night doesn't go as planned after being tasked by Amanda to seduce a rival drug lord in order to seal the deal for claim to more territory for the Kinsellas. When Michael finds out from his brother what happened, he's not happy with you for following Amanda's orders. Not only is he determined to get revenge on Titan, but he's even more determined to finally get the pair of you out of his family's business.

Warnings/tags: 18+; light angst, overprotective Mikey, love confession, smut

a/n: So this one shot turned into a short mini series. Who would've thought? Feedback is always appreciated! The first part and following parts can be found here.

Tag List: @danzer8705 @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @shiorimakibawrites @wkndwlff @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza (kept everyone from the first one so if you'd like to be added or removed please let me know!)

Renewed rage was coursing white hot through Michael’s veins as he stopped before the front door of Amanda and Jimmy’s house. As soon as he’d made his way down your drive after that enlightening conversation with you–one that he had been very reluctant to leave–and saw their house at the end of the street, Michael had seen red. Immediately he’d become pissed off all over again at what Amanda had set you up to do tonight. It had been far beyond out of line for her to order you to do what she had, and he had every intention of making sure Amanda damn well knew that.

She’d never try to whore you out again for a job when he was done with her.

Raising a fist, he began to furiously and rapidly bang against the door, his knuckles stinging from the impact. He didn’t let up with his pounding, either. He stood on their front porch taking out some of his fury on the heavy wooden door until he heard the click of the lock in between slams of his fist. Only then did he stop, his shoulders heaving with his sharp, frenzied breaths as his brother swung the door open. The expression on Jimmy’s face as he eyed Michael’s livid one made it apparent that he wasn’t remotely surprised by his visit.

“Wondered what took ya so damn long to show up,” Jimmy said plainly. “Figured you’d be here fumin’ at some point after I told ya what happened.”

“Went to see if she was alrigh’ first since ya said she was hurt,” Michael grunted out, roughly pushing past his brother and making his way inside. “Can’t fuckin’ believe ya went along with that shite plan. Absolutely fuckin’ ridiculous.”

“Figured ya knew what was goin’ on tonight,” Jimmy replied, closing the door after his brother. “Amanda never said otherwise.”

Michael spun on his heel, his jaw clenching. “I'd have never agreed to that and ya both know it. Now Amanda’s goin’ to reap the consequences of her actions,” he grit out. “‘Cause ‘m’not lettin’ this fuckin’ slide. So where the fuck is she?”

“She’s just–”

“I’m right here, Michael,” Amanda said, cutting her husband off as she sauntered out of the kitchen, her heels clicking along the floor with each step. “And there’s no need for all the hostility.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed at the sight of her, his back straightening. The flat and uninterested look on her face had his temper flaring even more. She looked as if she couldn't have cared remotely about the danger she had put you in this evening or the way you'd been hurt. That had the corner of his left eye twitching as he glared dangerously back at her across the entryway.

He certainly wasn't going to leave until he made her understand what a huge mistake she'd made this evening.

“No need?” he ground out, taking a threatening step towards her. “Are ya fuckin’ jokin’, Amanda?”

Amanda’s own eyes narrowed to slits in return, her arms crossing over her chest as she kicked a hip out. “I sent her out on a job, Mikey,” she replied firmly. “‘Cause that’s what she does for this family. Jobs that need to be done. Same as anyone else. And we needed that northern expansion, ya already know that. We’ve got more product than we can push in the territory we already run. We need more buyers if we're goin’ to be bringin’ in any more cash.”

Michael’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles still stinging from where he’d pounded them against the door. It was taking all of his willpower not to start taking swings at Amanda with all the anger burning inside of him. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t imagining knocking that smug look off of her face at her words. Because she’d willingly put you in danger all for the sake of a chance at making more money.

Your safety was non-negotiable in this business when it came to Michael. Amanda had always known that. It was something that had always pissed her off, causing her jealousy to flare up whenever he brought it up during meetings, putting his foot down on jobs she'd try to send you on that he knew wouldn't be safe. Ones he took instead. Yet she often tried to find ways to poke at that by putting you in situations he didn’t agree with but couldn't rightly counter. All because she was jealous that he’d been in love with you for all of these years and not her, leaving her to ‘settle’ for Jimmy instead. And thankfully nothing serious had ever happened from her bullshit schemes–until now.

“We need the expansion, yeah,” Michael agreed, tone low and venomous, “but that wasn’t how we were talkin’ ‘bout gettin’ it. Ya already know that, Amanda. Ya went behind my back and set this up yourself.”

“Because we had a last minute meetin’ practically fall in our lap!” Amanda snapped, throwing her hands out wide in exasperation. “What would ya have wanted me to do, Michael? Let the opportunity to negotiate slip between my damn fingers? Is that it?”

“I expect ya to make the right fuckin’ call!” he roared back. “Ya should’ve sent me in to negotiate! That was the plan all along! I was supposed to handle Titan– not her!”

Amanda rolled her eyes, scoffing loudly as she did. That only further pissed him off, his teeth grinding together as the corner of his eye began to twitch faster. The control he had on his rage was beginning to slip with every word that came out of her mouth.

“Ya were unavailable ‘cause ya were with Anna earlier today,” Amanda shot back. “I needed someone right then–and it needed to be a Kinsella or someone damn near close. Titan would’ve never negotiated with anyone too low rankin’ in the business. And we both know Viking is too hot-headed to handle negotiations. Your brother here isn't much for it, either.”

“Hey!” Jimmy cried out, offended. “That’s a load of shite, Amanda, and you know it!”

Her head darted in her husband’s direction, her eyes cold as she snapped at him. “Stay outta this, Jimmy.”

Michael noticed the way his brother’s composure changed, his body tensing at her order. Though it wasn’t a surprise to him when he said nothing further, quietly seething across the room instead. Jimmy usually always backed down to Amanda, which was partly how she wound up in the position she was in now. Especially because Michael wanted to get you and himself out of the business; running it was the last thing he’d ever want.

“Then why’d ya send her in like a cheap fuckin’ whore, Amanda?” Michael growled, taking another threatening step towards her. “How was that a good fuckin’ plan? Ya could've sent her there just to make a deal, plain and simple. Ya know she’s smart.”

“Come off it, Michael,” Amanda shot in distaste. “It's practically common knowledge that the Titan loves his pussy. I didn’t ask her to fuck him, I only asked her to show interest. Get him comfortable enough so he'd fold to our demands easier.”

“Yeah?” Michael asked, his voice low as he stalked steadily towards her.

He caught the slight flicker of fear that briefly flashed in her eyes at his approach.

A part of him delighted in the sight of it after what she'd done to you–what she'd let happen to you. Something that never should have happened.

Good , he thought, lip curling back into a sneer. You damn well know what I'm capable of. You should be afraid after what you knowingly did tonight.

“If that was the case,” he continued evenly, aware of her arms crossing back over her chest, her own shoulders squaring as she tried to hide the growing fear in her eyes at his continued advance, “then ya could've dressed in that short little dress and pushed your tits into his face yourself, Amanda. Should've played the role o’ whore all on your own if ya want the expansion so badly. Ya claim you’re a Kinsella, yeah?”

Amanda stumbled a step backwards as Michael neared, lowering his face down to hers. Her back hit the wall though, leaving her stuck trying to hold onto the facade of strength while he towered over her.

“Better yet,” he continued quietly, every ounce of anger still very apparent in his words as he invaded her space, “ya could've fucked him yourself. Could’ve let him put his fuckin’ hands all over ya. Why not make him fold to your demands by suckin’ his cock all on your own instead of sendin’ someone else to do it? Shoulda gotten your own hands fuckin’ dirty for once.”

“I’m married, Michael,” she weakly shot back.

A bitter, humorless laugh slipped out of him immediately. Out of all the excuses she could have used, that was the one she was going to go with?

“Your marriage is barely hangin’ by a thread,” Michael retorted. “And your vows sure as shit never stopped ya from fuckin’ ‘round before. It’s ‘cause ya don’t have the goddamn nerve for this business. Ya sit here in your house bossin’ the rest o’ us ‘round, doin’ your biddin’ and playin’ innocent housewife. But the truth is ya don’t really have the stomach for this. Not when it really matters. Ya never fuckin’ did.”

Amanda scoffed, shaking her head. “That’s bullshit, Michael. I don’t do the jobs ‘cause that’s what the rest o’ ya are for.”

Blind fury shot through Michael at her words. Without hesitation, his right hand flew forwards until his palm slammed forcefully against the wall mere inches from Amanda’s head. Satisfaction flooded Michael as she visibly flinched in response, her eyes flying just over his shoulder. No doubt looking to Jimmy for help. But Michael knew his brother well enough. He wasn’t going to say a goddamn thing. He wasn’t going to intervene.

“We do not and have never issued orders for our associates to fuck anyone, Amanda,” Michael growled viciously. “Or to even give someone very dangerous like the Titan that fuckin’ idea only to put our associates in the position where they would either have to or face the fuckin’ consequences of embarrassin’ someone so powerful.” His hand slammed loudly against the wall in his rage and Amanda once again flinched. “Ya damn well knew what was goin’ to happen when ya asked her to do that tonight!”

“Well she–she works for me, Michael,” Amanda countered. “She’s mine to send out as I see fit. She could’ve–”

“YOU DO NOT OWN HER!” Michael roared, ramming his fist into the wall beside her head for emphasis and watching as she shrunk before him. His entire body felt like it was burning with his fury now. “And ya will never send her on a job like that again! Am I fuckin’ clear , Amanda?”

“Ya aren’t the one in charge, Michael!” Amanda fired back.

Furious, Michael pushed off of the wall and took a few steps back, turning and maneuvering around Jimmy who was watching him in silent curiosity. Reaching up, he grabbed onto the long, decorative mirror hanging on the wall beside the front door. Effortlessly he removed it from the hooks before turning back around and throwing it forward. It smashed on the floor just beside Amanda’s feet shattering loudly as glass spilled forth and clattered all over the floor next to her designer heels.

His glare returned to her shocked face, his own set firm as a hand rose to cover her mouth. He needed to make her understand that she’d crossed a line. She needed to know she couldn’t fuck with you like she thought she could. That she didn't hold the kind of power she thought she did.

“Let's get one thing straight. Fuckin’ a Kinsella doesn’t make ya one,” he ground out. “I could throw ya from this business just as easily as that goddamn mirror, Amanda. Step out o’ line with her one more time like that, and I promise ya, no one’ll be listenin’ to a fuckin’ word ya say anymore. Am I clear ?”

“Fine,” Amanda bit out between her teeth.

“Don’t fuckin’ test me on this again,” he warned, pointing a threatening finger at her. “Ya won’t like what happens if ya do, I can promise ya that.”

Michael turned, focusing on his brother who’d remained silent throughout most of the confrontation. There was still one other issue that needed to be dealt with while he was here. Judging by the look of resignation that washed over Jimmy’s face, he already knew what was coming.

“This won’t go unanswered,” Michael told his brother. “O’Brien can’t go beatin’ our associates and gettin’ away with it. Ya know that, brother.”

“Aye,” Jimmy muttered, nodding his head. “Figured you’d be sayin’ that.”

“We are not startin’ a war with him!” Amanda cried out. “That’s the last thing we need right now!”

Michael’s head whipped over his shoulder in her direction, his eyes shooting her a dark glare that had her mouth closing. “Ya don’t have a damn say in this one, Amanda. Keep your damn mouth shut,” he ordered. His attention returned back to Jimmy who was standing there waiting for him to continue. “I’m takin’ him down for what he did to her. Are ya with me or not, brother?”

Jimmy’s eyes fell down to his feet, a hand running over his beard as he mulled over the question for a moment. Gradually he nodded again, his gaze slowly returning to meet Michael’s.

“Yeah,” he replied. “‘Course I’m with ya, brother. We’ll take him down and find a way to take his territory with it, one way or another.”

“Good,” Michael stated, ignoring the way Amanda was clearly fuming from across the entryway. “We’ll figure out the details later. Just need to know ya have my back on this.”

“I always got your back, brother,” Jimmy assured him. “Ya know that.”

Michael stepped towards him, reaching a hand out and appreciatively clapping his brother on the shoulder. His anger was still there, burning inside of him, but he was grateful for Jimmy right now. At least he could be counted on and trusted, even if he wished he’d put a bullet in the Titan’s head the moment he tried to lay a finger on you earlier. That’s what he would’ve done.

“Ya headin’ back over there?” Jimmy asked. “To her place?”

“Yeah,” Michael replied, ignoring the irritated huff Amanda let out. “Had to come over here and deal with this mess first. Which I…really didn’t want to do after talkin’ with her. Apparently she’s felt the same way all this time and I’ve just been…blind to it.”

Jimmy sent his brother a small smile, clapping him on the shoulder with a hand in return. “‘Bout damn time ya fools took your heads outta your asses,” he teased. “Go on then,” he said, gesturing his head towards the door. “Go get your girl, Mikey.”

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella #kin rte

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bellaxgiornata · 6 months

Text

The Christmas Morning Surprise

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: On Christmas morning you try to surprise Michael with breakfast, but you what you didn't expect was that he had a Christmas morning surprise for you, too.

Warnings/tags: 18+; A bit of smut and some tooth-rotting holiday fluff with a sweet Mikey

a/n: Surprised even myself being able to get yet another holiday fic finished in time! Hope y'all enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Michael Kinsella One Shot Tag List: @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @shiorimakibawrites @wkndwlff @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18

A faint buzzing noise near your head woke you, gradually drawing you out of your peaceful sleep. It took your mind a moment to realize that the sound was the alarm you’d set on your phone last night before you’d gotten ready for bed. In a rush to silence it, your hand flew out from under the covers, cold air instantly chilling your bare skin. Quickly you swiped your finger across the phone screen on the nightstand beside you, ending the alarm before the vibration could wake up Michael and disturb him.

Slipping your arm back under the warm covers, you carefully glanced over your shoulder and back at Michael behind you. He was laying on his side facing you, one arm resting on the bed just next to you and partially out of the blankets. He looked peaceful lying there with the faint morning light washing over his features. You secretly always loved when you woke before him, often taking a moment to watch him sleep. It was one of the few times you ever saw him without a single crease of worry visible on his face.

As you lay there watching the steady rise and fall of his chest while trying to work up the motivation to get out of the warm, comfortable bed, you noticed his brows beginning to faintly furrow together. The corner of his lip began to twitch soon after and a frown crossed your own mouth when he emitted a faint groan. His eyelids fluttered open before he blinked a few times, his hazel eyes landing on you.

“Ya already awake, love?” Michael’s sleep-riddled voice croaked out.

“Yes,” you answered quietly, “but ya can sleep in, Mikey. I set my alarm to wake me in order to get somethin’ ready for ya this mornin’.”

You reached a hand out, lightly scratching Michael’s beard with your fingers. His eyelids slowly lowered as a sluggish smile pulled his lips upwards. A satisfied hum rumbled out of him and you tried to bite back a laugh. He reminded you of a dog getting scratched behind its ears in just the right spot with the way he often reacted to your affectionate beard scratches.

“Ya were out late last night,” you continued gently. “Go back to sleep, Mikey. I know ya could use the rest and we don't have anywhere to be until later.”

“Mmmph,” he grunted out, his eyelids struggling to reopen. “Kinda hard to fall back asleep now that I'm startin’ to wake up. Especially seein’ your beautiful face first thing in the mornin’.”

Your bottom lip protruded in a playful pout as you held his tired gaze. The last thing you'd wanted to do was wake him early this morning. You'd meant to just slip out of bed and finish making your surprise Christmas breakfast before he woke up. You'd already done most of the work for the homemade cinnamon rolls last night while Michael was out dealing with his family so that all you'd have to do this morning was bake them in the oven and ice them. But now you'd gone and accidentally woken him early.

Though an idea soon struck you as you took in the sight of the tired smile still spread along his lips. Gradually your fingers slipped out of his beard, sliding upwards to caress his cheek. Slight confusion crossed his features as he gazed back at you.

“Maybe I can help relax ya back to sleep,” you suggested coyly.

One of his dark brows arched onto his forehead, his tired eyes fixed curiously on you. Bottom lip catching between your teeth, you slowly drew your hand down his cheek, lightly dragging your nails down the side of his neck before it slipped back beneath the covers. His brow rose even higher onto his forehead as he held your gaze, the corners of his lips curling further upwards when you shot him a cheeky wink.

Your hand made its way downwards, though not without you first taking a moment to curl your fingers appreciatively in the hair covering his bare chest. Eventually your hand continued its descent, your fingers reaching the hem of his boxers. Toying with the waistband teasingly, your tongue darted out, wetting your lips in anticipation of what had crossed your mind.

“Love, ya don't have to–”

“Consider it your first gift of the day, Michael,” you whispered back, cutting him off.

Without giving him another opportunity to tell you why you didn't need to pleasure him–something he always did for fear of feeling selfish–both of your hands began tugging his boxers down his thighs. Sitting upright on the bed, you began shifting on the mattress, moving the blankets out of the way before stripping his boxers entirely off and discarding them over the side of the bed. Eyes focusing back on Michael's cock, a surge of heat washed through you at the sight of him already growing hard.

“With the way ya look at me sometimes,” Michael’s groggy voice began, “ya would think ya enjoy this ‘bout as much as I do.”

Your eyes flickered up, catching his as a sly grin spread across your face. “‘Cause I do, Mikey,” you purred out.

Focusing back on Michael's cock, your cunt twitched at the resulting groan he'd emitted in reply to your comment. Maybe you'd satisfy that urge in the shower with him later this morning when you both got ready for the day. But for now, you were going to enjoy turning Michael into a relaxed puddle so he'd fall back asleep while you worked on your little surprise breakfast.

Reaching out a hand, you dragged your nails lightly across the sensitive bit of skin on his lower abdomen, right above his cock. The muscles twitched and jumped beneath your fingertips as you gradually lowered yourself into a comfortable position on the bed between his muscular thighs. Slowly you began to slide your other hand up the inside of his left thigh through the thick, dark hair, grinning in triumph to yourself when his hips gave a faint jolt along the bed in response.

Knowing you wanted to get him to fall back asleep soon, you figured you'd keep the teasing to a minimum this time. One of your hands curled around the girth at the base of him, your own cunt beginning to grow wet at the slight moan he loosed into the bedroom at your touch. From your position on the bed, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. His head had raised from his pillow, his drowsy focus solely on you.

“Merry Christmas, Mikey,” you whispered, intentionally brushing your lips against his cock as you spoke.

Without waiting for a response, you wrapped your lips around him and began to work the length of his cock slowly and deliberately. A deep moan bellowed from within his chest, echoing around the bedroom–it was a sound that had you humming with pleasure with your mouth full of him. Moments later you felt one of his hands lightly cradling the side of your head, his fingers carefully gripping your hair.

“Ohh fuck, love,” he breathed out, voice pitched higher than usual. “Ya always know what you're doin’.”

You moaned along his cock at the praise, your thighs pressing together from your place on the bed. Yet again you had to remind yourself you'd take care of your own needs with him later as your head continued to bob along the length of him, your pace increasing a bit with the speed of his panting breaths now filling your ears. While your right hand continued to work the bit of him you couldn't quite fit, your left hand made its way up the rest of his inner thigh and over towards his balls. The moment you began to pay them attention you felt his hips straining to remain still beneath you.

“ Shit , love,” Michael gasped out.

It was only a matter of time before you could feel his thighs practically trembling along the mattress. You could tell he was close to cumming, especially with the faint, breathy gasps repeatedly slipping out of him as you sucked his cock. You knew it usually never took much to get him off first thing in the morning, and apparently today was no different.

Increasing your pace even faster as you tried to take him just a bit deeper into your mouth, you felt his hand tighten its grip in your hair. His other hand darted onto the bed with a soft thump before you saw him fisting the sheets in a white-knuckle grip.

“Love, I'm goin’ to cum,” he breathed out, voice strained.

Continuing to breathe through your nose, you didn't slow your pace. Only seconds later you felt the warm, thick ropes of his release hit your tongue. The familiar salty taste of him along with the accompanying low, satisfied moans he was making above you had you moaning along with him. You swallowed every bit down as you worked him through his release, only stopping when you felt his grip ease in your hair.

Sitting up between his thighs, you wiped a hand across your damp mouth and gazed down at the sight of Michael before you. His breathing was heavy and so were his eyelids as he drowsily gazed down at you. He shot you a content, sleepy smile from his place along the pillow as his hand dropped from your hair and back to his side.

“Think it's your turn now, love,” he murmured.

You tried to fight back the grin on your face at how exhausted he looked. Gently you shook your head, one hand lightly patting his thigh.

“Not right now, Michael,” you told him. “Later. In the shower.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, his eyelids drooping.

“Think ya can fall back asleep now?” you asked him.

“After that?” he asked with a light laugh. “Not a doubt in my mind, love.”

“Good,” you whispered as you slid off the bed. “Rest more, pet. I'll wake ya in a bit.”

Michael hummed out a noise of assent as you drew the blankets back up over him, his head already rolling to the side as sleep began to take back over. You smiled to yourself at the sight, grateful your little breakfast surprise would remain just that still.

The scent of cinnamon and vanilla filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of the freshly brewed espresso from the two coffee mugs you’d set aside on the little island behind you. Mikey had often drank tea or bland coffee roasts before you’d moved in with him, but once you’d introduced him to your espresso machine, he’d quickly fallen in love with the lattes you made. So you’d certainly made sure to include them in your Christmas morning surprise for him.

Gingerly you spread the icing over the top of the now mostly-cooled cinnamon rolls in the pan that you’d recently pulled out of the oven. The icing spatula glided with ease over the top of each one, the lingering warmth from the pastries causing the icing to loosen and spread over them, dripping down the sides. Your stomach gave a faint rumble as you worked, desperate to taste the fruits of your labor already. You’d spent the previous evening making the cinnamon rolls from scratch while Michael was away dealing with his family, and you’d stored them in the fridge overnight knowing he’d come home far too late to give a damn what was hidden at the back of it. You were planning to wake him for breakfast once you’d had everything finished, hoping to give him as much time to sleep in as you could.

Though as you began icing the final pastries in the pan, you felt two arms slip around your waist just before you felt Michael’s familiar, firm chest molding itself against your back. His nose was soon nuzzling at the side of your neck, the faint scratch of his beard tickling your skin. A smile tugged at your lips as your hands paused their icing, your eyes briefly closing at the display of affection. Despite the things Michael had done, and how terrifying most people seemed to find him, he was truly nothing more than a cuddly teddy bear with you.

“Everythin’ smells amazin’, love,” he murmured against your neck. “Didn’t know ya were makin’ breakfast or I’d have come down and given ya a hand.”

Your eyelids fluttered back open, your attention returning to icing the last of the cinnamon rolls in the pan. “But that’d defeat the point, pet,” you pointed out. “I was hopin’ to surprise ya with breakfast this mornin’. And ya needed the rest.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, pausing to gently place a light kiss to the place just beneath your jawline. “Ya spoil me, love.”

“It’s Christmas, Michael,” you teased, fighting your body's reaction to the way he was touching you. “‘Course I’m goin’ to spoil ya.”

His arms tightened their hold around your middle, pulling you more flush to the front of himself and causing your smile to widen. You could feel him shifting beside you, his head raising just before his soft lips planted a gentle kiss to your cheek. But when he spoke next, his mouth was beside your ear, causing a shudder to freely race down your spine. He never failed to have an effect on you.

“Ya always spoil me, though,” he whispered.

Turning your head towards him, you caught his eyes and held his gaze. The usual warmth and fondness he always looked at you with was present in them now, the sight causing a sensation of happy flutters to swirl through your stomach.

“Because ya deserve it, Mikey,” you replied softly.

Slowly, you saw the corner of his lips twist upwards, his eyes creasing just a bit at the corners. He gradually disentangled his arms from around your waist, taking a step back. Though both of his hands gave your hips a gentle, affectionate squeeze before he fully released you.

“Why don’t ya take a seat and relax?” he suggested, nodding his head towards the kitchen table across the room. “I’ll plate everythin’ and bring it over. Ya have done more than enough already this mornin’.”

With a sigh you placed the icing spatula in the now empty bowl you’d mixed the icing in this morning. “Alright,” you conceded. “I s’pose I can let ya handle that much.”

Turning around, you grabbed the two still steaming lattes from off the little kitchen island behind you before maneuvering around it and making your way over to the small table by the window. As you set both mugs down, you could hear the sound of clinking on dishware as Michael plated the cinnamon rolls.

Sliding down into a chair and drawing your mug of coffee up to your lips, your attention returned to him. He’d slipped on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a black sweater before he’d come downstairs and your eyes lingered appreciatively on the way the material clung to the back of him as he worked. You knew you’d definitely be peeling those clothes off of him later this morning in the bathroom before fucking him in the shower, and that thought had you momentarily readjusting your position in your chair. It was at that exact moment he turned around, holding two plates and beaming back at you from across the kitchen.

“These look great, love,” Michael said as he began to make his way over to the table. “Did ya make them yourself?”

“O’course I did,” you answered. “I made ‘em while ya were out last night. All I had left to do was throw ‘em in the oven this mornin’ and then make the icing.”

Michael set a plate down in front of you before taking the seat across the little table. His eyes had gone a bit wide in surprise at the information.

“Love, ya didn’t have to do that for me,” he told you. “And ya certainly didn’t have to make so many, either.”

You shrugged lightly, picking up the fork from your plate. “I wanted to. Plus I figured if I was goin’ through all the trouble of makin’ them I figured I'd make some to bring over later to share with Anna and her gran. Because who says no to cinnamon rolls?”

Your fork slid through the side of the pastry easily, cutting off a piece that you brought up to your lips. Though your fork hesitated before your mouth as you focused on Michael across from you, his own fork in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin’,” he muttered with a slight shake of his head. “Just grateful to have ya in my life is all.”

Heat burned at your cheeks as Michael picked up his fork and began to focus on his breakfast. His words had caused a warmth to flood you, filling you with a pleasant sense of belonging. It wasn’t remotely the first time he’d said something so sweet, but it never failed to get your heart thundering in your chest whenever he did because you knew how much he always meant what he said.

“After breakfast I’ll have to pop over to Birdie’s for a minute,” Michael told you as he swallowed a bite of the pastry.

Brows furrowing, you glanced out the window to your right. Just across the snow-dusted street you spotted Birdie’s house.

“Ya have more work to do this mornin’?” you asked him in confusion, your attention returning to him. “On Christmas?”

“No, nothin’ like that,” he said around another bite of cinnamon roll. “I left your Christmas present at her house for uh…safe keepin’. Just to ensure ya didn’t stumble across it ahead of time.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at him as you paused your chewing. Michael visibly began to fidget in his seat, his eyes focused on the plate before him. What could he possibly have needed to leave at Birdie’s to keep you from finding it here?

“These are delicious by the way, love,” Michael said, gesturing his fork at the already half-devoured pastry on his plate. “Thank ya for makin’ them.”

“Well,” you began slowly, spearing another piece of cinnamon roll onto your fork, “it’s certainly not your only present this mornin’.”

Michael sent you a half-grin from across the table as he raised his mug of coffee towards his lips. “Like I said,” he replied, “ya spoil me, love.”

Despite the fact that Michael had told you not to worry about cleaning up the kitchen just before he'd left to stop over at Birdie’s, that's exactly what you’d ended up doing. As soon as you'd covered the pan of cinnamon rolls and stowed them away in the fridge, you could hear the sound of his voice telling you that you shouldn't be the one to clean up because you'd already went through the effort of making everything for breakfast.

But you'd ignored that voice and started loading the dishwasher afterwards. There wasn't much else for you to do anyway as you waited for him to return from Birdie’s. Though you couldn't help but speculate what gift he could have possibly left at her place. Jewelry? Some sort of electronic? Honestly you had no clue what it could've been.

But you didn't need to speculate much longer because as you were closing the door to the dishwasher you spotted movement out of the kitchen window from the corner of your eye. Turning over your shoulder towards the window, you saw Michael coming up the drive with what was obviously your Christmas present secured in his arms. Your mouth fell open at the sight and you gasped audibly, eyes widening in surprise.

Without a moment's hesitation you raced out of the kitchen, making your way down the short hallway and to the front door. You reached out and twisted the handle, swinging the door wide open just as Michael neared it. There was a large smile on his face when he saw the look on your own.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he said, coming to a stop on the front step.

“Please tell me this isn't a joke, Mikey,” you begged. “Because if it is, it's not funny.”

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the puppy curled in his arms. The dog's ears had perked up the moment it'd spotted you though, its tail thudding enthusiastically against Michael’s dark brown jacket. There was a bright red and white Santa hat atop the puppy's fluffy white and brown head. The puppy must have sensed your excitement because it soon began to squirm in Michael’s hold.

“‘S'not a joke,” he assured you. “I know how lonely ya get ‘round here when I'm busy. And I know how ya had been hinting ‘bout gettin’ a pet lately. Figured this little guy would be perfect when I saw him at the shelter.”

“So ya–ya got me a puppy for Christmas?” you asked him in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he answered with a grin.

You eagerly extended your arms with an excited squeal, reaching them out towards the puppy. Michael began shifting the excitable, squirming ball of fur from his arms to yours. Another delighted squeal slipped out of you as the dog began sniffing and licking at your chin while you stepped back from the doorway, letting Michael into the house. He chuckled warmly at the happy coos you soon began emitting as he slipped off his shoes while you continued further into the house, bringing the puppy towards the sitting room.

A giggle fell out of you next as the little dog began snuffling at your ear while you lowered both yourself and the dog to the sitting room floor. Though you lost your balance when his two front paws landed on your shoulder as he tried to climb further up to your face. You landed on your back underneath the puppy with a peel of laughter.

“Seems he has some sort o’ charm over everyone,” Michael teased as he entered the room. “Found him similarly with Birdie this mornin’ and I think she was a bit sad to see him leave.”

“Well she's more than welcome to visit,” you told him, scratching the puppy behind the ears as you focused on Michael from your place on the floor. “And thank ya, Mikey. He's perfect.”

“Just glad to see that bright smile on your beautiful face, love,” he replied. “I'd do anything to put it there.”

You couldn't fight the smile that spread wider across your lips at his words. “Well when I can finally get up I'm giving ya your Christmas presents,” you told him. With your smile turning a bit coy, you added, “And don't think I forgot what I said about the shower later, either. I'm not finished with ya today, Michael Kinsella.”

“Mmm,” he hummed back, making his way over towards the pair of you with a cheeky smile on his face. “Now those are the kinda threats I love to hear.”

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #holiday fluff

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bellaxgiornata · 10 months

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Fifteen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.6k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Finally y'all get that meeting with the Serpents and a protective and angry Mikey in this chapter. Feedback is always appreciated!

Fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun still concealed in your parka's pocket, the cold metal of it in your hand felt like a comfort as you ascended the large hill just on the outskirts of Dublin. A quick glance over your shoulder allowed you to see the glowing lights of the city just behind you. Somehow that also felt comforting right now.

Dotser had dropped you off just a bit away from the base of the hill where the meeting was taking place in an attempt to remain hidden so the Serpents didn’t know you hadn’t actually come alone. Which had surprisingly taken more coaxing on your part to get him to listen to you than expected–apparently Birdy had made it clear nothing was supposed to happen to you under his care. So he’d argued with you about going up there alone and inevitably had you late for this meeting, but as you finally reached the top of the large hill, there was admittedly a part of you that felt better knowing he was nearby–even if you knew he was too far to truly help. Because even you weren’t stupid enough to think that you weren’t on your own handling whatever happened next here.

“Wondered if ya would show.”

You froze at the accented voice, your hand curling tighter around the gun in your pocket as your heart jumped in your chest. Trying your hardest to remain calm, your eyes focused on the figure emerging from around the single, lone motorcycle parked in the open field. The moonlight glinted off of something in the man’s hand as you saw him swiftly raise it from his side. By the time the realization that he had a gun had dawned on you, it was already too late. The weapon was trained on you, right on your chest. You felt fear flood your veins, your mouth suddenly dry.

But he was alone. And judging by the few patches on his cut–the leather vest all MC members wore–he didn’t appear to rank in the charter. That was possibly the only good news right now.

“You didn’t give me much choice,” you replied.

Your eyes followed his movements carefully, watching as he gradually approached you. He was studying you closely in return, his eyes clearly surveying you from top to bottom. You only hoped you could continue to keep the gun in your pocket concealed from him. You didn’t want to know what he would do if he noticed it.

“Hands out o’ your pockets,” he ordered, gesturing his gun at you. “And slowly. Don’ try anythin’ with me.”

Inhaling a deep, quivering breath, your hand gradually released its hold on the gun in your pocket. You felt like you could hear the pounding of your heart in your ears as your hands very slowly slipped out of your jacket, the chill of the night hitting them instantly. Even if you could still feel the heft of the gun noticeably weighing your jacket down, it felt vastly less comforting with your finger so far from the trigger.

The man continued to approach you, casually closing the distance between the pair of you like a snake stalking its prey. He was sizing you up, his gun still firmly pointed at your chest. You fought the urge to cower or look away from him–you didn’t want to give him any further of an advantage against you. Didn't want to show him the fear you felt.

When his eyes eventually landed back on your face, he spoke your name. Your actual name, not the fake one you’d been using here. Jaw clenching at the sound of it, you fought hard to keep your composure. If he knew your name, you suddenly had a lot of questions that needed answers. How had he found out? Had he alerted Victor yet? Why was he asking you to meet him? Especially considering he was alone and seemed to be operating outside of the MC.

You had questions and you needed answers if you wanted to stay alive, but the only way to get them would be to keep a level head. It wasn’t like you hadn’t dealt with trigger-happy outlaw bikers before. You could handle this. You had to.

“That’s who ya are, yeah?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered.

He nodded, coming to a stop just in front of you. He pressed the barrel of his gun into your chest, shoving the end of it sharply into your sternum. You only straightened your back and held his stare in response, even if internally you were terrified of what he might do. You knew he was trying to intimidate you, and truthfully it was working, but if you let it show, then he had the upper hand. And you couldn’t have that.

"Ya are Michael Kinsella's bitch, yeah?" the man asked.

Unable to hide your confusion and shock at his unexpected question, your brows rose high onto your forehead, a frown settling along your lips. How could he have known you had been somewhat seeing Michael? And what the hell would the Serpents want with him?

You needed to tread carefully.

"What're–"

The Serpent shoved the gun harder into your chest, cutting you off immediately as he lowered his face to yours. You swallowed hard, fighting to keep the tremble from your lips.

"That was a yes or a no question," he growled. "Are ya fuckin' the Kinsella or no?"

Technically you weren't fucking him yet, but you didn't think he cared about technicalities. It seemed like he already knew the answer, too, especially considering he must've known you lived right next door to Michael since he’d slipped something into your sister’s letterbox for you to find.

"Yes," you answered.

"Thought as much when I saw ya both walkin' around the city together," he said with a nod.

Your mind raced, trying hard to piece everything together. There were only two times you and Michael had gone walking anywhere together, which meant…

"It was you," you stated, the realization hitting you. "You were the one tailing us. In the hoodie."

"Figured ya saw me," he replied. "Wasn't supposed to be there or I'd have taken my shot at him. But I was curious 'bout ya when I saw ya with him," he continued. "Thought I might find out who the bitch was that Michael Kinsella was seein'. See if ya could be the bait to lure him out."

Your lips parted in surprise at his words, panic building even further inside of you. Was he trying to use you for bait to lure Michael out to kill him right now? Had you unknowingly just walked into something?

"Yeah, ya see, that was my first thought," he continued, grinning when he saw the look of fear on your face. "But then I looked into ya. Saw who ya really are."

He barked out a harsh laugh, the noise causing you to flinch. The faint glow from the moon above and the city lights behind you cast just enough light onto his face allowing you to see the dark, shadowy expression there. He looked more dangerous now than he had a few minutes ago.

"The Mother charter's missin’ cunt," he said with a sharp laugh. "Right here in Dublin. Imagine my surprise when I found that out. Runnin' from Victor? The Viper ? Ahh, 's’just too good."

"What do you want?" you asked him.

His smile faltered at your question, his eyes narrowing threateningly back at you. The man's lip curled up into a sneer as he pressed the barrel of the gun more firmly into your chest.

"I want ya to give me Michael in exchange for keepin’ your secret," he snapped back. "For now, at least. Might be useful for me to hang onto for a bit."

"Why do you want him?" you asked carefully.

The Serpent barked out another sharp laugh. You stood there entirely still, incredibly aware of the gun bruising the space along your sternum.

“Ya fuckin’ daft?” he asked. “Eamon wants them all dead–especially Michael. He put out a special bounty for The Magician.”

Your frown deepened at the nickname you’d unearthed for Michael when you’d been digging up dirt on the Kinsellas the other week. But what the Serpent said had made sense. Birdy had told you the Cork charter might be looking to get into smuggling and dealing, and apparently Eamon was the main supplier in Ireland. They wanted an in, and Eamon wanted the Kinsella’s dead. It was a perfect opportunity, really.

Eyes dropping down to the front of the man’s cut, you noticed he had a single patch. The singular patch every Serpent member had. It meant he wasn’t a prospect, but he wasn’t necessarily someone that mattered. Gradually your eyes slid back up to his face, your mind piecing things together quickly.

“You’re here on your own,” you said slowly. “Hoping to take Michael Kinsella for yourself to please your President. You want rank.”

“Doesn’ fuckin’ matter, does it?” he shot back.

“It means they don’t know who I am, do they?” you asked him, feeling a little bolder the more you spoke. “None of the others know I’m here, because if they did, they’d have already alerted Victor. And you haven’t told Victor I’m here because then you’d lose your chance of making a name for yourself with the Serpents. Because wouldn’t you look like hot shit taking out Michael Kinsella and in turn winning the Serpents Ireland’s biggest supplier?”

Something flickered across the man’s face in the dark, his back straightening. “Think ya have it all figured out, d’ya?” he growled.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before a single word came out, the Serpent lifted the gun from where he’d had it pressed against your chest. With a solid thwack he slammed the butt of the gun upside your temple. White flashed across your eyes as you cried out, searing pain shooting through your head. Your body crumpled in half as you stumbled a few steps backwards. Eyelids fluttering, you tried to regain your balance, struggling not to fall on your knees before him.

“I’m not fuckin’ playin’ here,” he warned. “I’ll give ya a couple o’ days, but I want ya to bring me Michael.”

He pulled something out of his coat pocket and threw it at you. The object hit you in the shin, bouncing off of you and falling into the grass before you. You groaned, a hand flying to your head where he’d struck you. Immediately you winced, pain shooting through your skull. Something warm and wet met your fingertips–you had to have been bleeding.

Sluggishly your gaze dropped down to what he’d tossed at you. It looked like a small flip phone.

“Ya get Michael alone somewhere, ya text me on that burner phone,” he ordered. “If ya don’, I tell Victor and all the other Serpents in Cork that you’re here. If I smell a trap, I tell Victor and all the other Serpents in Cork that you’re here. If ya try to pull anythin’ with me–try to disappear on me?”

His hand darted out, gripping a fistful of your hair and yanking your head upwards, forcing your eyes to meet his as you yelped in surprise. A dangerous smile was spread across his lips.

“I think ya fuckin’ know what I’ll do,” he told you. “Ya got three days, and that’s me bein’ generous. Don’ fuck it up.”

Forcefully he flung you to the ground, his grip releasing your hair as he did. Your hands scrambled out in front of you, trying to catch yourself as you fell forward onto the grass. Heart violently thundering in your chest, you stayed like that on all fours as you heard the sound of the lone motorcycle rumble to life. Your eyes closed when you heard him rev the engine, fingers curling around the blades of grass.

A few moments later, you heard the bike tear off with a roar, the noise steadily disappearing into the night. When silence finally met your ears, you collapsed to the ground, tears burning at your eyes and racing down your cheeks. No longer needing to try to look brave, you let yourself cry in the grass.

What a fucking mess you’d wound up in now. You had three days to deliver Michael to that nameless Serpent. Which of course meant he was going to kill him, though obviously there was no way you were going to let that happen. But clearly anything deviating from that–if you ran, or if the three days were up, or you had the Kinsellas’ try to take the Serpent out–you’d have the entire Cork charter after you along with Victor on his way to Dublin. And that meant you’d be putting Megan in danger. And Michael. Possibly Birdy and the others.

What the hell were you supposed to do? You would never give up Michael, but you didn’t want to be thrown to Victor, either. He’d only hurt you before he inevitably killed you. And he’d probably find a way to drag it out and make you wish he’d get it over with. That thought alone had you curling in on yourself in the grass, tears pouring down your cheeks even faster.

In the distance, you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle gradually roaring nearer. The sound shot a spike of adrenaline through you, the familiar rumble causing you to sit bolt upright in the grass, one hand flying to your forehead as the world around you briefly spun at the movement. You winced in pain, removing your hand from your forehead as you tried to focus in on the noise of the bike. It sounded like it was coming from the opposite direction of where the Serpent had just left; it was coming from down where you knew Dotser was waiting for you.

Had the Serpent circled back?

Carefully you rose to your feet, pocketing the burner phone and blinking rapidly when your vision briefly blurred and you’d once again become dizzy. You stumbled forward, having to quickly catch your balance as a hiss of pain shot through your teeth. Recovering seconds later, you stuffed your hand back into your parka pocket, fingers wrapping around the handle of the gun as you began to make your way back down the hill. If Dotser was in danger you weren’t just going to leave him to fend for himself.

As you crested the top of the hill, you caught sight of a motorcycle pulling up beside Dotser’s parked car. You swore you spotted two people getting off of the bike before the headlight on it had turned off, throwing them back into darkness. But it hadn’t seemed like Dotser had been alarmed at the appearance of whoever they were, and you hadn’t heard gunshots ringing out. It must not have been the Serpents–they certainly didn’t share bikes like that anyway. But as you continued on your way down the hill, you wondered exactly who it could’ve been on that bike. Only Birdy and Frank knew you were out here.

You didn’t have to wait long to find out, though. As you continued your descent down the hill towards the two vehicles, your temple throbbing as you felt blood trickling down the side of your face, you spotted someone pulling off a helmet and aggressively throwing it to the ground. Then their figure began storming its way over towards you, moving at an alarmingly fast pace. Your hand squeezed around the handle of the gun in your pocket, but almost one second later a sinking feeling hit you in the gut right before you heard the unmistakable and furious voice of Michael Kinsella.

“What the fuck d’ya think you’re doin’?”

You winced at the anger in his words as he continued to stalk his way towards you. Instead of answering, you blurted the question that was on your mind.

“How did you know I was here?” you nervously called back.

Michael’s enraged steps were swiftly closing in on you, shrinking the distance between the pair of you as he approached, a gun held firmly in his right hand. In the dim light from the moon you could see the sheer fury etched across his handsome features as his eyes bore into you. The look on his face alone sent a chill through you. But then you saw the exact moment he spotted what must’ve been the nasty gash on the side of your head considering how fast his expression switched from murderous to concerned and fearful. His eyes widened, dark brows rising up onto his forehead as his lips parted in surprise. He hesitated for the minutest of moments before he was sprinting the remaining distance towards you, stuffing his gun into the back of his jeans as he ran.

You came to a halt when Michael stopped before you, your eyes guiltily darting away from him and towards the ground. He reached his left hand out without a single word, his fingers carefully gripping your chin and turning your face to the side further as he examined the wound on the side of your head. You heard him suck in a sharp breath beside you before you felt the tips of his fingers on his other hand just lightly brush over the skin next to the injury. You grimaced at his faint touch and something like a rumbling growl vibrated in his chest instantly.

“It’s not that bad,” you whispered.

Michael didn’t reply. Instead, he gently turned your face back towards his, your eyes gradually making their way back up to his. Michael’s hazel stare pierced into yours through the dark, his lips pressed into a thin line. You could practically feel the heat of his anger burning into you just through his glare alone.

“Who did this?” he asked.

You shook your head, his fingers still holding your chin as you did. The Serpents wanted him dead, Michael could not be running off after them just because one of them hit you.

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “You’re not going to–”

“Who did this to ya?” he repeated fiercely, releasing your chin and taking a step closer to you, his face hovering before yours. “The asshole on the bike who just peeled out o’ here? He the one, Grace?”

Eyes going wide, your mouth fell open. He’d spotted the Serpent leaving?

“Take that as a yes,” Michael growled, turning on the spot.

He took two steps before your stomach twisted uncomfortably, watching as his right hand withdrew the gun from the back of his pants. You immediately took off after him, ignoring the way pain shot through your head as you bolted forward.

“Michael, stop!”

Your hands reached out, grabbing onto his brown jacket and pulling roughly against it. Michael came to an abrupt stop, turning back towards you with a dangerous look in his eyes as he stared you down. The muscles in his cheeks were twitching and seeing that look back on his face only sent another chill through your body. He looked absolutely murderous.

“Let go of me, Grace,” he ordered, barely contained rage in his voice.

Your fingers curled tighter around his jacket as you shook your head at him. “No,” you told him. “You’re not going after him. I won’t let you. He’ll kill you.”

Michael took an intimidating step towards you, his face mere inches from yours. Though the proximity was anything but intimate with the way his expression was twisted in fury and his sharp, angered breaths were causing his chest to heave as he glared back at you.

“ I’m goin’ to fuckin’ kill him !” he roared at you, ignoring the way you flinched at the volume of his voice. “Ya think I’m goin’ to let some asshole threaten ya and then beat ya? Think I’d let that go unanswered? D’ya, Grace?”

He raised the gun in his hand, the barrel of it pointed upwards towards the sky. Your eyes inevitably were drawn to the weapon at the movement, goosebumps rippling over your arms beneath your jacket. You were torn between fear for Michael’s safety, surprise at his rage openly on display, and absolute admiration for how far Michael was willing to go to protect you.

Though you were immediately drawn back to the matter at hand. The Serpents wanted Michael dead because Eamon wanted him dead. That Serpent that had just left here would shoot Michael on sight without hesitation. And if Michael somehow managed to kill an MC member instead, he'd have a whole new problem to deal with.

He couldn’t chase after him.

“You can’t,” you said firmly, shaking your head again. “You can’t go after him, Michael.”

“The fuckin’ hell I can’t,” he snapped at you. “And don’t think I’m not wantin’ an explanation for whatever the fuck ya think you’re doin’ meetin’ with them all alone when I’m done dealin' with this.” He pointed a sharp finger towards your jacket pocket. " Or an explanation as to why you're carryin' a fuckin' gun on ya, Grace."

He firmly grasped your wrists, removing your hands from their hold on his jacket before he turned back around, stalking off towards the motorcycle he had rode in on. Inhaling a shaky breath, you followed after him, tears stinging at your eyes. You had to make him understand the gravity of this situation.

“The Serpents want you dead, Michael,” you shouted after him.

Michael stopped mid-step, his shoulders squaring as he stood there. Slowly, his head tilted to the side as he listened to you.

"The one I met with," you continued quickly, "he told me they're going after the bounties Eamon put out on all of you. Especially you, Michael. They want Eamon for a supplier. So if you chase after him, he'll kill you on sight."

Michael looked over his shoulder at you, his jaw clenched tight. The fury was still clear on his face but you pushed on, spotting Dotser and Michael’s brother Jimmy nearing the pair of you.

“And if you kill a Serpent, you’ll have the whole charter bearing down on your family here in Dublin,” you told him. “The club is a family, too. You kill one, you’ll have them all after you. And if you somehow prove to be difficult enough,” you said, pausing to draw in a deep, shuddering breath, “they call in the Viper."

You held Michael’s stare unblinkingly. His brows drew faintly together as he processed what you'd said, a look of confusion drawing over his features.

"Viper?" he asked.

You nodded solemnly in return. " My ex. He deals with…problems that any charter can't handle on their own. If you start killing off members in Cork, you’ll have Victor here in Dublin so fucking fast that you might as well put a bullet in my head right now.”

Michael’s eyes dropped to the ground, his left hand rising up to run across his mouth. You could see the tension slowly leaving him as the weight of your words settled on him; even his grip on his gun wasn't as tight and determined as before.

“So I’m–I’m just s’posed to let that fucker get away with layin’ a hand on ya like that?” Michael shot back, his eyes darting back up to you. "Ya expect me to do nothin' 'bout that?"

Your eyes darted to Jimmy who’d come to a stop beside his brother. He was eyeing you curiously, seemingly really noticing you for the first time. For a brief moment you wondered what Michael must have told him about you for him to come out here to help his brother, but now wasn't exactly the time to wonder what Michael’s family thought about you. Attention returning back to Michael, you answered him.

“There’s–there's nothing you can do about what happened to me right now,” you told him, shaking your head. “He told me I needed to deliver you to him in three days or he’d alert the charter in Cork and Victor to the fact that I’m here. So I don’t–don't think it's a good idea to go racing after him and shooting first without thinking it through," you admitted. "Birdy wanted me to meet with her and Frank after this. Right now, I think that's the better option than chasing that guy down. It's better to not make a bigger mess out of everything. Think the best choice would be to be smart and handle this with some thought before action."

"She has a point, brother," Jimmy cut in, gesturing a hand at your face. "And your girl looks like she could use some medical attention. Let Dotser take her back to Birdy’s. We can meet 'em there and figure things out."

Resignation slowly made its way across Michael’s face as he shot his brother a look. Jimmy held his brother's stare for a few seconds as if the pair were silently communicating with each other. Eventually Michael let out a loud sigh, returning his gun to the waistband of the back of his pants.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Just give me a minute with her, would ya both?"

Both Jimmy and Dotser nodded, making their way back to the car and the motorcycle parked a little way off still. Nervously you focused on Michael who was watching the pair of men walking away. You felt guilty for having lied to him before coming out here, even more now that he'd caught you in the lie.

Gradually Michael turned, making his way towards you. He moved quietly, his eyes on the ground as he took each step until he’d once again stopped in front of you. A second later he finally looked up at you, the anger entirely missing from his face now. Instead, there was something warm and caring reflecting back at you in his concerned eyes before they focused on the cut along your head. He winced visibly at the sight of it.

"I'm fine," you whispered.

"Are ya?" he asked as his sad, pain-filled eyes met yours again. "You're in the middle of a lot o' shit right now, Grace. Because o' me."

You shook your head quickly, ignoring the sharp pain as you did. "No, it's because of me. Because of Victor," you disagreed.

Michael scoffed loudly, shaking his own head. "But no one would have taken notice of ya if ya hadn't been with me , Grace," he pointed out.

Hands curling into fists at your sides, you were terrified he'd suddenly tell you he wanted nothing to do with you. That this was all a mistake. That you were safer without him–all things you'd wanted to say and do to keep him safe and couldn't exactly blame him for. Your heart had begun nervously thrumming in your chest in anticipation of those words as his hand reached out, carefully cradling the side of your face that wasn't injured. It felt like you couldn't breathe as you waited for him to speak, his thumb lightly brushing back and forth along your cheek.

"I'm goin' to fix this," he assured you. "Goin' to make this right. To make sure ya are safe. Ya have my word, pet. He'll pay for this."

Gingerly his hand slipped back to gently grasp the back of your head, carefully drawing you into himself. Hands flying up, you wrapped your arms eagerly around Michael’s waist, desperate for the safety and comfort he exuded. He held you securely in his arms in return, one hand stroking affectionately down the back of your head as he lightly rested his against the top of yours.

"I'll keep ya safe, I promise ya," he murmured. "I got ya now, pet. Ya here me? I got ya now."

Burrowing further against Michael's chest, your eyes closed as you relaxed into his protective embrace. Despite how your night had gone, you felt safe with him. Fingers tightening further around Michael’s jacket, you held on to him like he was your lifeline.

You didn't want to let him go.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fanfic #kin amc

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Twelve]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.6k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: This is a long one where we finally get their first date! And there's angst at the end of it, too... Also big thanks to @loveroftoomanyfandoms for figuring out what Michael is actually reading in Kin! Feedback is always appreciated!

Drawing the warm ceramic mug to your lips, you drank down more of your vanilla latte. The hot liquid was surprisingly not too sweet, the bold taste of the roast actually coming through as it passed over your tongue. You decided you liked this coffee shop, and not just because it was now going to hold the memory of your first date with Michael, but they apparently knew how to make a good cup of coffee.

Across from you at the table, Michael’s fingers were tapping against the side of his steaming mug of coffee, his chin resting in the palm of his other hand. His eyes were locked on yours, crinkles forming at the corners of them and that dimple visible just beneath his beard on his right cheek. He sat there silently, continuing to simply smile at you.

He had just been contentedly watching you as if that alone was enough for him for the past couple of minutes. You swore if he kept looking at you like he’d been doing ever since you’d both sat down, you’d end up throwing yourself over the small table separating the pair of you and crushing your mouth to his. Just that look of enraptured interest he had for you so plainly written across his face was alone increasing your arousal–or maybe it had just been vastly too long since either of you had last had sex. Either way, you were getting turned on and you could feel the sexual tension increasing to a palpable level in the air around the pair of you. Didn’t matter that you were both in public in a coffee shop and Michael was wearing a bulletproof vest under his sweater and jacket. Somehow that only added to your increasing desire.

“You just going to stare at me for the duration of this date?” you asked him, lowering the mug back to the table and wrapping both of your hands around it. “Or do you actually want to talk to me?”

Michael chuckled, that intense look of fondness never leaving his face. “Well I have a beautiful woman sittin’ across from me, and it’s quite early in the mornin’. Maybe I’m a bit distracted?” he teased.

That also didn’t help you control the desire to jump him publicly.

“Laying it on thick, I see,” you joked, unable to fight the smile on your own mouth.

“Well I told ya it may be a bit before I can take ya on another proper date again,” he explained. “And it did take me two times to get ya to say yes to me to begin with.” He shrugged. “Maybe I just want to make sure it won’t take ya six times before ya say yes next time?”

You laughed, surprised at how funny he actually was when you got a little bit past the awkward, brooding, mysterious exterior. Shaking your head at him, your eyes dropped down to the mug of coffee before you. On your walk to the coffee shop this morning Michael had been noticeably more comfortable with you than he had been the last time the pair of you had taken a walk together. Although there had unfortunately been no kissing or hand holding, he had somehow still managed to slip in a bit of overt flirting despite the main topic of conversation.

As you’d both walked to the shop for your date, Michael had been explaining how he really shouldn’t be out of his house because of the feud that had been started between his family and their supplier–this Eamon character that Birdy had initially accused you of getting close to Michael for the Serpents for. Apparently anyone selling for Eamon that had a gun was going to be on the lookout for a Kinsella or anyone working with the family. There had been a very high bounty put on Michael’s head and it wasn’t exactly safe for him to be out–even in public. Which didn’t exactly surprise you, considering how he’d walked into a crowded bar himself a few nights ago and shot the man who’d been responsible for Jamie’s death. But Michael had repeatedly assured you the bounty was still such early news that there wasn’t a high risk of anyone tailing him yet. He’d made sure no one was before he’d come to get you from your sister’s this morning.

To you, it sounded like this feud was more of a war. Especially with the way he was wearing a bulletproof vest under his clothes and occasionally scanning out the window to make sure no one suspicious was watching the pair of you. He’d even intentionally picked a table near a back exit in case the pair of you needed to bolt, and he’d positioned himself so he could keep an eye on the door and still be between you and it. Which was a detail you hadn’t missed.

“So you’re a writer, yeah?” he asked.

His question drew your eyes back up from your mug and to his face. He’d sat up straighter in his chair now, his chin no longer resting in his palm. You watched as he drew his mug to his lips, your eyes momentarily distracted by the movement–and his mouth. It had been too long since you’d last had the opportunity to kiss him, and you really had wanted to pick up where you’d left off the other morning.

“Yeah, I am,” you answered, your eyes finally meeting his again.

“What’s that like?” he asked next.

You shrugged a shoulder, mulling over the question. “It’s nice, I suppose,” you told him. “I get to work from wherever I want–clearly,” you said, shooting him a small smile to which he returned. “Other than making deadlines there’s not too much daily stress during the writing part of things. I mean, besides the pressure I put on myself to actually, you know, write.”

Michael chuckled, leaning his elbows onto the table as he drew himself closer towards you. “And what exactly do you write about?” he questioned.

“I uh, have a series about a family,” you began awkwardly, your eyes dropping down to your coffee mug. “And they do…nefarious things to make money.”

“Such as…?” he prompted curiously.

“Drug trafficking,” you answered, eyes still averted. “Money laundering. Blackmail. Murder.”

“Well that’s…rather dark,” he mused.

Your eyes slid up towards his, one of your brows arching back at him. The corner of his lip twitched upwards in response.

“I am aware of the irony,” he replied, grinning. “I take it ya took inspiration from your life?”

“Something like that,” you admitted.

Michael’s dark brows pulled together on his forehead, a crease forming between them. “I’m surprised your ex-fiance allowed that. He knew that’s what ya wrote ‘bout?”

Nodding, you drew your mug back up to your lips for another drink. You swallowed down the coffee before you answered.

“He knew,” you simply said. “My sister had actually gotten in with one of the Serpents back in the day–before I’d ever met Victor. He’d gone by the nickname Lucky. He actually had epilepsy and was the reason why I knew what to do that other night when I…met you.”

“Mmm,” Michael hummed out, his gaze still intently watching you. “Wondered 'bout that.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes dropped back down to your nervously fidgeting hands. Your fingers began to drum along the ceramic mug as you spoke; you didn’t particularly like to think about the outlaw MC.

“I’d started writing the series back then,” you told him. “My sister and I, we didn’t exactly have a great childhood. I’d stayed behind and forwent college just to make sure she’d been safe and taken care of until she graduated. I worked two jobs just trying to pay the bills while our mom just…” you slowly trailed off, shaking your head. “But Megan she–she fell for Lucky when he was still a prospect for the Serpents, right before she graduated high school. She was really serious about him. And I started hearing these stories–in the news and from my sister–and I just…I don’t know, I started writing,” you finished lamely with a shrug.

“So ya published them before ya met your ex?” Michael asked.

“The first one, yeah,” you said, your focus returning to his curious face. “The series name The Road to Hell was a quiet nod to the Serpents of Hell MC. Even though it's not actually about a motorcycle club and doesn’t specifically mention any real crimes they committed–because I’m not an idiot and wasn’t trying to get myself killed. But I was apparently good at it. At writing. And I needed the money because a high school education wasn’t getting me shit. So my publisher picked it up. They loved it and contracted me for more and well, that’s what I do, I guess.”

“I’m assumin’ somethin’ happened to this Lucky considerin’ Megan isn’t with him now?” Michael asked.

“Killed,” you answered with a nod. “He’s the reason why Megan went to school to become a nurse.”

Michael frowned at your response. “’M sorry to hear that.”

You shrugged, bringing your coffee back to your mouth for another drink. Swallowing the warm liquid down, you eyed his handsome face across the table from you. This wasn't exactly what you wanted to talk about.

“Not a very light topic for a date,” you mused as you lowered the mug. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself? Something not depressing unlike what I just told you.”

A small smile returned to Michael’s face, one of his hands sliding across the wooden table towards yours. He reached up, gripping onto your right hand and pulling it away from your coffee mug down to the table with his. The gesture instantly stilled your nervous fidgeting, your eyes dropping down to watch as he slowly entwined his fingers with yours. Your heart beat a little harder in your chest.

“What d’ya want to know?” he asked.

Eyes slowly making their way up towards his face, you felt your breath coming in shallower. That look from earlier had returned to his face, and in turn, so had your previous state of arousal.

How fast can I get you home and in my bed?

Bottom lip slipping between your teeth, you tried hard to fight that question from accidentally falling out of your mouth. Michael’s gaze had inevitably dropped down to where you were chewing your lip, his own tongue slowly sliding out to wet his lips as his eyes lingered.

If you didn’t get ahold of yourself soon you’d be dragging him out the back door behind you and seeing how far you could get with him before your mind brought reason back to you. And as tempting as that sounded, that’s not what you were doing here. Blinking hard a few times, your eyes darted out of the window beside you, trying to break whatever trance his eyes had somehow put you into again.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “Any hobbies?”

Michael huffed out a laugh, the sound catching your attention again. He was shaking his head as he raised his mug to his lips with his other hand. You watched as his throat bobbed while he drank the coffee down, your tongue running along the back of your teeth as you shifted in your seat, all too aware of the heat from his hand wrapped around yours.

“Ya know where I’ve been the past eight years, yeah?” he asked, lowering his mug back to the table. “Didn’ exactly have the opportunity for hobbies.”

“Okay,” you said slowly. “So you go back home after this and then you do what? Sit on your sofa and stare into the void? There’s got to be something you enjoy.”

He chuckled as his hand not holding yours rose up to scratch at his beard. Your left hand curled around your mug, desperately trying to ignore the way your fingers itched to feel the rasp of it beneath them.

“So I’m goin’ home alone after this?” Michael teased. “That what you’re sayin’?”

Your own brows rose onto your forehead, lips parting in surprise as you gaped back at him. “I–I wasn’t saying that, exactly,” you stammered out.

A slow smile spread along Michael’s mouth, his hand rubbing along his chin as he continued to watch you from across the table. There was definitely some sort of look in his eye, something that had your pulse at a consistent, increased pace again.

“I enjoy readin’,” he said. “‘M not really into watchin’ shows, but I read.”

It took you a moment to realize he was answering your question about his hobbies. But as you sat across from him, your coffee almost finished, you’d found your brain was still stuck on one thing. Shifting again in your seat, you tried hard to focus on the conversation and not how badly you wanted the man you were talking to. The fact that he enjoyed reading was only adding to his attractiveness.

“And uh, what exactly do you like to read?” you asked, the question coming out unintentionally a little breathless.

Michael seemed to catch the change in your tone, his head tilting to the side as he quietly studied you for a moment. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting to keep yourself from inviting him back to your place right here and now. Though it was beginning to feel like a losing battle. You felt like you might combust if you sat here much longer with him staring at you like that and you pretending like you weren’t dying to do more than just talk.

Clearing your throat, you tried to shove those thoughts away again.

"Actually, let me guess," you began, trying to focus on the conversation. "You don't seem like you'd be into horror and suspense."

"Get enough o' that in my life already," Michael agreed, nodding.

Your eyes narrowed as you examined him closely. "Not romance, either. Or science fiction," you ruled out, noticing the way his smile grew. "Nonfiction?"

Michael shrugged a shoulder. "Dependin' on the topic, yeah."

Becoming interested in this guessing game, you rested your elbow on the table and leaned forward, your right hand still entwined with his. Michael copied the gesture, that flicker of something still in his eyes, his mouth seemingly permanently drawn up into a grin as he lessened the gap between the pair of you at the table.

"Historical fiction?" you asked.

"On occasion," he replied huskily.

Pressing your lips together, you wondered how the hell he was making this conversation so hot. The way he’d gripped your hand a bit firmer in his wasn’t helping.

"Mmm, not a mystery reader," you continued, watching as he shook his head. "Classic lit?"

Michael’s grin widened further. "I enjoy some, yeah," he answered.

Resting your chin in your hand, your index finger absently tapped against your lips as you thought. You only became aware of the gesture when Michael’s eyes dropped down, staring at your mouth yet again. That's when you'd intentionally began running your finger back and forth along your bottom lip slowly, enjoying the way his eyes followed the movement. Apparently you weren't the only one thinking about that right now.

"I'm guessing you're not into bodice rippers," you teased, intentionally directing the conversation towards sex.

Michael’s brows shot up onto his forehead, his eyes returning to yours. "Bodice rippers?" he asked with a laugh. "Is that what I'm thinkin' it is?"

You grinned, nodding. "Yeah, you know, smut. Those books with the overly buff men on the cover and a woman who's heaving bosom looks like it's about to pop out of her top?"

Michael cracked up, his eyes creasing as he tried to contain his laughter. "No Grace," he answered, his shoulders shaking with his barely contained mirth, "I can't say that I read… bodice rippers . But now ya got me wonderin' if you do."

A large smile drew wide across your own face. "Oh I have an entire series of them I wrote," you told him enthusiastically, fighting down your own laughter when his mouth dropped open in shock. "About a pirate and a virgin–well, I guess she's not a virgin anymore. Not with everything they've done with the buried treasure they've found…"

Michael continued to gawk at you from across the table and you swore you saw pink tinge his cheeks. When you saw him struggling to form a coherent thought, you burst into a laugh.

"I'm kidding," you assured him. "I don't have a smutty series about a pirate–but I bet you I’d make a fortune if I did."

He visibly relaxed in his seat, a laugh falling out of him. "Ya definitely had me there," he said. "Wasn't sure if ya were serious and how I was s'posed to respond to that."

"Yeah, I could tell," you said with a laugh of your own. "Pretty sure I made you blush, Mr. Kinsella."

His hand squeezed yours as he chuckled again, his eyes falling back down to his mug. “I don’ know ‘bout that,” he muttered.

“So what are you reading?” you asked him finally.

“Currently?” he asked, continuing when you nodded. “ East of Eden.”

Eyebrows raising onto your forehead, you hummed out a curious noise. The corner of his lip twitched.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said innocently with a shrug. “You seem like you’d read Steinbeck is all.”

His eyes narrowed playfully at you. "And what's that s'posed to mean?" he asked.

"That you should probably find something lighter to read," you teased.

You picked up your coffee mug and downed the rest of your latte, enjoying the bemused expression on Michael’s face as he watched you. Setting the empty mug back onto the table, your eyes dropped back down to your enjoined hands. His thumb suddenly brushed a light stroke across your knuckles and you felt that excited, giddy feeling wash over you. Yet again you found yourself wishing you weren't in a public setting.

“D’ya want another coffee?” he asked, head gesturing to your now empty mug.

“Actually,” you began slowly, eyes gradually returning to his face, “Do you…maybe want to head back?”

Something flickered across his face at your question, an expression so fleeting you barely just caught it before you saw him quickly control his reaction. He cleared his throat, picking up his almost empty mug of coffee, his focus on the remaining liquid as he spoke.

“Already wantin’ an end to this date?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…moving the date back to my place?” you suggested. “Megan isn’t home and well, you wouldn’t have to keep glancing out the window and being on edge.”

“If that’s what ya would like to do,” he said casually, his eyes still almost nervously avoiding yours as he downed the rest of his coffee.

“And is that what you would like to do?” you questioned back.

Michael paused, his gaze very gradually drawing up from his mug to meet yours. That flicker of something was in his eyes again as he stared back at you for a moment. You felt a heat rising up to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment this time. You wanted to see where this was going to go, and you certainly weren’t thinking about stopping things like last time.

“I’d like that, yeah,” he eventually answered.

You tried to fight back the smile on your lips as Michael released your hand finally, grabbing your empty coffee cup along with his and telling you that he’d take care of them. Your eyes lingered on Michael’s back as he stepped away to deposit them on a nearby cart. Rising from your own chair, you slipped your jacket back on and mentally prepared to face the chilly morning air that seemed to be a constant in Dublin.

When Michael had made his way back to you, your heart skipped in your chest at the sight of his offered hand. Eagerly you slipped yours into it, smiling when you saw his own smile light up his entire face. He led the pair of you out of the coffee shop, his head darting around looking out the shop windows as he walked, clearly keeping an eye out for anyone who looked suspicious.

He’d held the door of the shop open for you, only releasing the hold he had on your hand to do so until you were outside on the sidewalk. His hand swiftly grasped back onto yours, entwining his fingers through your own when you both fell in step beside each other. Biting your lip, your gaze dropped down to your feet as you walked, your shoulder brushing alongside his with each step.

For a few minutes the pair of you had walked in comfortable silence, your mind on the things you’d like to do to him back at Megan’s place. Though you found yourself wondering what he was thinking about right now and if it was something along the same lines.

“I hope–hope ya had a good time,” Michael said nervously, finally breaking the silence.

Your hand squeezed his reassuringly as you glanced at him beside you over your shoulder. His head turned, a small smile on his mouth as he took in the look on your face.

“I did,” you assured him. “Wouldn’t be inviting you back with me if I hadn’t.”

“Quite bold of ya, too,” he mused.

A coy smile spread along your lips in response. “And quite bold of you to assume that’s what I meant,” you countered.

Michael’s expression quickly shifted to something sheepish, his mouth opening and closing for a moment. He looked absolutely adorable as his pace slowed beside you and he grew further flustered.

“Oh, I–I just thought–I mean, you’re right, I shouldn’ have–” he broke off, clearly trying to find the right words.

You laughed, shaking your head and watching his expression slightly relax at the sound. “I did mean that, actually,” you told him. “But you’re cute when you get flustered.”

Michael breathed out a laugh, his head ducking down as his other hand came to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’ think anyone’s called me cute before,” he muttered.

“Well I just did. And I think you are,” you pointed out, eyes still lingering on his handsome face. “Among other things,” you added, the words spilling out of you before you could stop them.

Michael looked up at you from underneath his lashes; there was something undeniably hungry in his eyes as he held you in his stare. That desire you’d been feeling all morning was only steadily growing within you as you saw his eyes scanning your face in the silence that followed, searching for something that you sincerely hoped he found there. But something caught his eye just past your shoulder, his focus shifting as his lips thinned. His expression quickly became serious and your eyes narrowed curiously back at him.

Michael straightened beside you, his posture going rigid as his head spun forward. His hand tightened around yours as he quickened his pace. You were forced to increase your stride to keep up as he pulled you along beside him.

“What–”

“Can’ tell if we’re bein’ followed,” he responded in a hushed tone. “Just keep your head down, pet. Act normal. Don' want somethin' happenin' to ya."

Your heart sped up in your chest for a different reason now, adrenaline flooding you at his words. Someone was following you? Someone looking for that bounty on Michael’s head he’d told you about this morning? The familiar cold prickle of fear rose the hairs along the back of your neck, your jaw tensing as you grit your teeth together.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted someone on the other side of the street. There was a black hood pulled up over their head, making it impossible to make out their face. Their hands were stuffed in the pockets of their sweatshirt, but with them so far across the street, you couldn’t tell if there was a gun in one of their pockets or not. It looked as if they had turned their head towards the pair of you across the street before focusing back on the sidewalk before them.

Were they following Michael then? Here to shoot him and claim the bounty Eamon had put out?

Michael abruptly tugged you sideways, startling you as he pulled you down a small side street. You willingly followed after him, still practically being dragged behind him until he suddenly stopped and turned, grabbing both of your shoulders in his hands. He pushed your back up into the brick wall of the nearby building without warning, a surprised gasp falling out of you at the impact. Michael's arms were soon caging you in between them, the front of him coming to press against the front of you. His face was just inches from yours now, panic and fear written plainly in his eyes as yours met his.

"Just stay right there, pet. I got ya," he murmured, his left hand moving from off the wall to gently cradle the back of your head, easing it down to rest against his chest. "'M so sorry. Didn' think anyone was followin' us when we left."

You didn't respond, too busy trying to control your own increasing panic. Your hands fisted the material of his sweater as your heart thundered loudly in your own ears. Eyes snapping shut, you tried to focus on the smokey cinnamon scent of him, letting it fill your nose as you buried it further into his chest. Michael pressed himself more firmly to the front of you when you'd exhaled an audible, shuddering breath.

"'S'alrigh', I got ya," he whispered, his cheek resting along the top of your head, his other hand still firmly cradling the back of your head to him. "Won' let anythin' happen to ya."

Seconds later you felt Michael tense against you, his entire body going rigid as he covered you with himself. Your fingers curled tighter around his sweater, the solid bulletproof vest underneath it reassuring you in this moment that he would be alright–he had to be. You heard his breath catch in his throat with how closely you were burrowed against him as you waited for what felt like the inevitable, tears pricking at your eyes.

But nothing happened.

The moment felt like it dragged on for minutes, time slowing down, but no gunshot ever rang out. Very slowly Michael raised his head from the top of yours, but he didn't release his hold on you so you remained latched to the front of him. Whoever had been across the street must’ve passed by already now, but Michael was clearly trying to wait them out to make sure they really weren’t about to double back and shoot him. It was a few minutes before he finally broke the silence, your body feeling like it was stuck in a state of panic while you waited.

"I–I think they're gone," Michael whispered. "Musta been nothin' after all."

His hand on the back of your head gently smoothed down your hair a few times, the comforting feel of it drawing a shudder out of you. Gradually you pulled away from his chest, finally releasing the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Michael was looking down at you, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Ya alrigh’, Grace?” he asked softly.

Nodding, your hands continued to keep a firm hold to his sweater underneath his open jacket. Michael’s hand on the back of your head slid forward, gently cupping your cheek and tilting your face up towards his. That sorrowful, regretful look was back in his eyes again as they held yours. Your heart continued to beat wildly in your chest from a mixture of the residual fear and adrenaline, along with the admiration at how easily Michael chose to shield you with himself in the heat of the moment.

“‘M so sorry, Grace,” he repeated. “Fuck, I shouldn’ have taken ya out this mornin’. I didn’ think it’d be a worry today because–”

You lunged forward, closing the brief space between the pair of you and cutting him off when you pressed your mouth to his. Hands releasing the death grip you’d had on his sweater, they came up to grab either side of his face, holding him firmly to you. It took Michael a second to recover from the shock of your action before he was kissing you back, one hand wrapping around the back of your neck and the other gripping your hip. You gasped into his mouth when he pushed you back into the brick wall, his tongue slipping inside when you did.

You moaned next–a loud, throaty sound that only spurred him on. Michael’s tongue was feverishly lapping at yours, the feeling leaving you breathless as your hands made their way back into his hair, gripping the dark strands firmly in your fists. You didn’t know if it was due to the fear of being shot, the flirty, lustful thoughts you’d been having for the duration of the date, or a combination of the two, but you found yourself needing him.

Without thinking, completely forgetting that you were still in public, your hips pressed forward into Michael. His tongue slid back out of your mouth, his teeth biting down on your lip and tugging in response. He rumbled out a noise from deep within his chest as he nipped at your lip. You whined at the sound, pulling at his hair and trying to urge him to continue. Releasing your lip from between his teeth, Michael shook his head briefly. The pair of you stood there on the side street, clinging to each other and breathing heavily.

“Not here,” Michael panted out.

Eyelids falling shut, your head rolled back against the brick building behind you. He was right, now wasn’t the time. Reluctantly you released the grip you had on his hair, your hands instead coming to land against Michael’s chest. You took a moment, trying to catch your breath and calm your body down–from the kiss and the panic–as you felt both of his hands coming to rest along your hips. You could hear the way he was breathing heavily before you, just as out of breath as you were.

After a minute you finally opened your eyes, focusing back on him in front of you. Michael’s shoulders were heaving a little less visibly now, one corner of his mouth curling upwards at you. Licking your lips, you tried hard to push those thoughts aside for the duration of the walk back to your place with him.

“Why don’t we just–just continue this when we get back?” you suggested.

“Probably a better idea,” he agreed.

Michael extended his hand towards you and you easily slipped your hand back into his. The pair of you made your way down the side street and towards the sidewalk, but Michael had come to a stop just before it, making you wait behind him while he surveyed the area. When he seemed satisfied you were safe, he gave your hand a little tug and the two of you continued on your walk.

The entire walk back felt like it had taken forever with every flirtatious look the pair of you kept sending each other. You’d both tried to make conversation, but it seemed only one thing was on either of your minds, making it difficult to keep a topic going for long. By the time you’d reached your street, Michael had already convinced you to come back to his place instead because it was always empty, unlike your place where Megan could theoretically show up unexpectedly.

That was how the pair of you found yourselves once again wrapped around each other. Michael had been reaching for his house key in his pocket to unlock his front door. Unable to wait, you’d grabbed onto the edge of his jacket and pulled him towards you. He didn’t hesitate to respond to you this time, his mouth diving straight down towards yours.

He was kissing you feverishly again, clearly still as worked up from earlier as you were. His hands flew back to your hips, gripping them tight as he walked you the handful of steps backwards until you’d hit the stone fence behind you. Your own hands slid up his chest, wishing you could rip the vest off of him now that you were back because you wanted to feel him beneath your hands instead.

His mouth soon broke from yours, his lips making their way down to your jaw. His beard lightly tickled against your skin as he trailed a few open mouthed kisses along the length of it, a moan vibrating in your throat. The moment he sucked a patch of your skin into his mouth, your eyes rolled back and your head landed against the brick wall behind you. Your arms wound around his neck, fingers digging into the thick material of his jacket as you sighed out a noise of pleasure. His mouth felt so goddamn good.

As he continued to focus on your neck, one of his hands slid down from your hip, making its way around to palm your ass over your jeans. His large hand squeezed and the sound that it drew from your throat would’ve been mortifying if it hadn’t caused him to suck another patch of skin along your neck into his mouth.

“ Fuck, Michael,” you breathed out.

You could feel the wet heat building between your thighs when he drew back from your neck, his plush lips damp with his saliva. His face was slightly flushed, that hungry look in his eyes again. God, you needed him badly.

Throwing all thought out, you pulled him towards you with the arms you had wrapped around his neck. Your lips crashed onto his, kissing him with every bit of that urgent hunger you felt burning inside of you. The pair of you were panting for air against each others' mouths, the kiss a mix of teeth and tongue as you gave yourself over to your desire. When you’d sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, your tongue dancing along the length of it, Michael had let out a groan that had your cunt clenching around nothing.

Releasing his lip from your mouth, your heated gaze locked onto Michael’s. The pair of you were still wrapped around each other, lips swollen from all of the kissing. Michael’s hand was still slowly kneading at your ass over your jeans as your lips parted, the words ‘I want you’ about to fall from them, but then an irritated voice rang out from just behind Michael and the pair of you froze.

“Ya got to be kiddin’ me, Michael!”

He immediately broke away from you, taking a few steps back as your hands inevitably fell to your sides with him now out of reach. Breath still coming in shallow pants, you felt a sharp pang hit you in the chest at how quickly he’d broken apart from you at the appearance of Amanda.

“I've been callin' ya all mornin', Michael," she continued bitterly. "I came over here to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’ important and I find ya over here pawin' at her? Ya shouldn' even be draggin’ an outsider into our shite with everythin' goin' on!” Amanda snapped.

"Amanda," Michael began, his tone placating.

“What if somethin' had happened and I couldn' get ahold o' ya, huh?" she barreled on. "Somethin' like what happened to Jaime? Because ya were too busy lookin’ for a quick fuck with the neighbor?”

Michael ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he eyed her. “Now’s not really the time for this, Amanda,” Michael shot back.

For some reason the fact that he hadn’t immediately clarified that you weren’t just a quick fuck had your chest tightening uncomfortably. Surely you meant more to him than that, even if you two didn’t know each other quite that well yet, right? It had seemed like you’d had a good date, and Birdy had said he seemed interested in you. Yet still, it hurt all the more that he’d not corrected her because you knew that Amanda had certainly meant something to him in the past, considering he’d had an affair with her despite her being married to his brother.

Did she still mean something to him?

“It’s important, Michael,” Amanda said, her eyes taking a moment to rake you over with a look of disdain. “Certainly more important than whatever is goin' on here.”

“Can’t it wait?” he pressed.

Amanda’s eyes narrowed back at Michael. “ No, Michael, it can’t. Your family needs ya. More than your neighbor needs ya for a fuck,” she growled, gesturing a hand at you. “ She’s not important. Family is.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief at her words and the blatant disrespect in them. Gaze flying towards Michael, you expected him to say something–anything at all–but all he did was sigh, his shoulders sagging as he did. Slowly his head turned over his shoulder back towards you, a sad, apologetic look in his eyes.

“Grace,” he began, “I’m gonna have to deal with this right now.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Was he serious? He was going to let her talk about you like that and then just ask you to leave? As if that’s all you really were was a quick fuck at what was now becoming an inconvenient time?

Eyes hardening back at him, you felt anger and jealousy beginning to burn inside of you. How had you misread this situation so badly? You thought there was more going on between the pair of you, but apparently that was one-sided. Of course he’d just want a fuck fresh out of prison, and you were easy pussy next door, weren’t you? Seemingly desperate yourself.

Michael’s brows drew together at the change in your expression, confusion slowly drawing across his face as he turned towards you more fully. His mouth opened as if he was going to say more, but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it, Michael,” you retorted coldly, beginning to make your way past him.

“Grace–”

“And don’t call me, either,” you added.

“Grace,” he tried again.

You saw Michael reach out to grab your arm as you passed by, but you pulled it out of his reach. At the end of the driveway, you saw a faint smirk spread on Amanda’s lips as she watched the scene unfolding before her, crossing her arms over her chest as you neared. When you walked past her, it took every bit of your strength to resist smacking that pleased look right from her face.

You rounded the stone fence and made your way back to Megan’s house, ignoring the sound of Michael’s voice behind you. He only stopped calling your name when you heard Amanda tell him to–as if she apparently still had some pull over him.

Drawing the house key out of your coat pocket, you bit the tip of your tongue as you unlocked the front door. You didn’t want either of them to hear you crying; you were waiting to do that after you’d locked the door behind you and buried yourself in your sister’s couch cushions where no one could witness the tears.

Because of course he must still want her, even after eight years in prison. What an idiot you were to think you were more than easy sex to him. You were just a distraction from her.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x f!reader #michael kinsella #kin amc #kin fanficiton

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter One]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.3k [Series Masterlist]

Summary: Contracted to work on your next novel, you leave the States and move in with your sister in Dublin in hopes of a quieter, peaceful place to work on your writing. And somewhere safe to hide. But you weren't expecting to meet your sister's attractive and curious neighbor, the one fresh out of prison–Michael Kinsella. And you certainly weren't expecting to become his safe haven, or for him to become yours–especially when your past eventually finds you.

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: In this series, Reader is American and has a backstory and family (though if you'd like to pretend Reader was adopted at birth to feel more like a reader-insert to fit you, feel free). She will use a fake name as well. This story is also fairly dark at times, but if you watched the show you should be just fine. Though it's not all dark, because I just really want to give our man Mikey some happiness and comfort! You get Mikey in chapter two though, sorry! You can find the chapter list for this series here.

Also I apologize in advance for incorrect terms of things--I'm American but I am trying my hardest to get correct terms/slang/dialect as I go. But I know there will be mistakes. Feel free to kindly point them out to me if you know something is incorrect!

Head resting against the car window, your eyes scanned the row of houses as your sister drove slowly down the street she’d just turned onto. With each passing moment since you’d left the Dublin Airport, you’d felt a weight steadily easing off of your shoulders. You were free. For now, at least.

Your body was aching from your time trapped in that cramped seat in the airplane for the more than seven hour flight from Chicago to Dublin, and you were certainly worn out from the time change. In Chicago it would’ve been the middle of the night, but here it was just after nine in the morning. Despite the sun shining bright with the promise of a brand new day, you were desperate for sleep.

As Megan turned and pulled the car into the driveway of the house at the end of the street, you began to unfasten your seatbelt. You were eager to get out of the car and grab your bags before settling in. Maybe you’d manage to grab a nap after your long trip. It had certainly been exhausting.

Your sister turned off the engine before shifting in the driver’s seat, shooting you a bright smile. "Well, this is home," she told you. "What do you think?"

You leaned forward to look out of the windshield, eyeing the white house with the bit of brick on the front. It was the last house on the corner, with a tall stone fence surrounding the driveway and separating it from the one just next door. Your eyes shifted, taking in the sight of the house just beside it from what you could see over the stone fence. They looked almost identical.

"It's nice," you told your sister, settling back into the seat and focusing on her again. A tired smile made its way onto your face. "Looks cozy. How do you afford it with just a nurse’s salary at Dublin Central?”

Megan’s shoulders sagged at the question, her bottom lip catching between her teeth as she stared at you quietly for a moment. And then her mouth curled into a sheepish grin. “I suppose I can be honest now that you’re here,” she said.

“And what is that supposed to mean, Megan?” you asked her.

“The house actually sold for a bit under value,” she admitted. “Because of the neighbors.”

Your eyes narrowed instantly at her, one brow rising curiously up onto your forehead. “The neighbors? What do you mean?” you asked. “Are they noisy or something?”

Megan’s eyes dropped down to her lap, an awkward laugh leaving her as she fidgeted with her car keys. “I mean sometimes, sure. But no, it’s uh, it’s because of who they are.”

You rolled your eyes with an amused huff, your attention returning to the house before you. “What? Like you live next door to a damn crime syndicate or something?” you teased.

A heavy silence fell over the pair of you in the car. When she still hadn’t answered, you turned to look at your sister beside you. That sheepish smile was still on her face and it immediately had the amusement on your own dying instantly. Shaking your head roughly at her, your eyebrows flew up onto your forehead.

“You’re kidding, right?” you pressed. “This is a joke?”

The sheepish smile didn’t fall off of her face. Eyelids slowly lowering, you muttered a curse as your right hand came to rub at your forehead.

“The Kinsella’s,” Megan said softly. “They’ve got a house across the street and the two next door to me. Though the one right next door has been empty for a bit. But uh, Birdy was telling me that’s changing. In a couple of days now, actually.”

Your eyes landed back on the house beside Megan’s, the one that looked almost identical. “Who’s Birdy?” you asked. “And why was that house vacant?”

“Her name’s Bridget but she goes by Birdy,” Megan answered. “She’s the sweet lady across the street. The one with the curly, dark hair. She was interested in meeting you, actually. Very welcoming woman. Brought me a nice housewarming gift when I moved in just over a year ago.”

“She’s part of this crime family?” you questioned.

“Uh, well, yeah,” Megan admitted awkwardly. “But she’s real sweet. And none of them have really been any trouble since I’ve lived here.”

Your attention returned back to your younger sister beside you, eyeing her carefully. You gestured your head at the neighboring house. “So why is that one about to not be empty this week?” you questioned.

“It belongs to Jimmy Kinsella’s brother,” she answered slowly. “He lives in the big, fancy gated house just next door to it with his wife and two sons.”

You shot your sister a pointed look. “You’re avoiding answering the question,” you stated.

“Okay, fine,” Megan said with a huff. “The house belongs to Michael Kinsella. He’s been in prison for eight years–and no, I have no idea for what because I don’t really go poking around into their business. So don’t even ask. But I guess he’s being released on Wednesday. Though Birdy was saying she’s not sure if he’s going to even want to stay there anyway, so it may remain empty.”

“Fucking hell, Megan,” you growled, throwing your head back onto the headrest. Two fingers flew up to pinch the bridge of your nose as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this before I agreed to move to Dublin?”

“Because you needed somewhere to go!” Megan answered earnestly. “And I just wanted you here and safe with me. I promise you, they’re not going to be a problem.”

“You know I’m trying to keep a low profile out here, Meg,” you shot. “You know that.”

Megan’s hand gently rested along your shoulder as she softly said your name. You bristled instantly, your body tensing.

“I told you not to call me that here,” you warned her. “Not my real name.”

“Alright Grace ,” Megan corrected herself, overly emphasizing the name you’d chosen. “I promise, they’re not going to go digging into you. You’ll remain private and hidden for as long as you want here, I promise. You tell them you’re Grace Moore and you’re my half-sister and no one will bat an eye. I swear. They’re too wrapped up in their own shit to care.”

Holding your sister’s gaze, a frown spread across your lips. “I hope for both our sake’s your right, Meg,” you told her, tone firm. “Because if word gets out that I’m here–”

“It won’t ,” she pressed.

Your eyes narrowed back at your sister as you continued, “If word gets out that I’m here, we’re probably both as good as dead.”

“Yeah, I understand the situation,” Megan replied. “You can drop the doom and gloom, though. You’ll be fine here.”

A knock on the window just beside you caused you to startle in your seat, a hand flying up to cover your chest, just over your racing heart. Spinning quickly towards the noise, you spotted a dark haired woman standing just beside the car door wearing a dress and heels. A bright smile was spread across her lips. She sent you a wave with one hand, holding up a bottle of wine in the other.

“That’s Birdy,” Megan whispered.

You forced a smile onto your face as you gazed back up at the woman through the car window. Through the smile and gritted teeth you whispered back, “Just remember my name is Grace Moore here, sis.”

Reaching a hand out, you opened the car door as Birdy took a step back, giving you room to exit the vehicle. The smile on your face felt stiff and worn-out, but you kept it plastered along your lips.

“Well good morning to ya both,” the woman said, her bright blue eyes fixed on you. “Your sister told me she was picking ya up from the airport this morning. Thought I’d stop by and introduce myself.”

She held out a hand towards you, the gesture drawing your eyes instantly at the movement. For a moment your gaze lingered on her offered hand.

“Bridget Goggins, though you can call me Birdy,” she introduced herself, her accented voice drawing your attention back up to her smiling face. “And you must be Megan’s sister, yes?”

“Half-sister,” you corrected quickly, your hand sliding into hers. “Grace Moore.”

“Oh well that’s such a lovely name, dear,” Birdy said.

The smile never wavered from her lips as your hand returned to your side, but the calculated and scrutinizing look in her eyes wasn’t lost on you. You were going to have to be careful around her, be extra cautious that you didn’t slip up. She looked like the type who’d notice the tiniest detail and store it away for later, all while still displaying the friendly facade.

What the hell had Megan done keeping her goddamn criminal neighbors a secret from you?

“Oh, and this is for you, Grace,” Birdy said, holding out the expensive looking bottle of merlot to you. “Consider it a welcome to the neighborhood gift.”

Your mouth felt strained with the effort of maintaining the tight smile on your face as you accepted the wine. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” you replied.

“Your sister Megan is such a lovely young lady, I’ve truly enjoyed having her in the neighborhood,” Birdy continued, her blue eyes piercing through you as she spoke. “I certainly expect you’ll be just as wonderful an addition as she has been.”

Teeth gritting together, you felt the edge of something like a threat in her words. A warning to stay out of their business.

“I’m rather a private person,” you replied, noticing the faint arch to her brow at your words, “but I’m sure we’ll get along just fine, Birdy.”

“Ahh, lovely then,” Birdy said easily. “I suppose I’ll let ya get settled in, dear. I’m sure it was a long flight for ya from the States. Wonderful chatting with you both.”

“You as well,” you told her. “And thank you–” you said, raising the bottle of wine in your hand, “–for the welcoming gift.”

Birdy’s smile somehow only grew, though whether the smile was genuine or still meant as a warning you couldn’t quite decipher. But it had unsettled you a bit.

“Of course, dear," she replied. "I’m sure we’ll chat again quite soon.”

You watched as she turned, her heels clicking along the pavement as she sauntered off down the driveway and across the street. She’d left you with a strange feeling in your stomach, wondering whether she truly was as friendly and safe as Megan made her out to be or not. But there was certainly more to her than just being the sweet lady from across the street.

Spinning on your heel when Birdy had disappeared, you turned and raised a brow at your sister on the other side of the car. Megan rolled her eyes.

"What?" she asked in exasperation. "She was nice ."

You pointed a thumb over your shoulder in the direction Birdy had just left. "That's nice to you? Because to me that screamed keep your fucking head down and stay out of our shit."

Megan shrugged, making her way to the trunk of her car. "So? You'll be doing exactly that anyway, why does it matter?" Megan asked.

"Because I'd like to keep my head," you told her, making your way over to the trunk.

Your sister opened it, grabbing one of your suitcases and pulling it out with a huff. You reached in, tossing your duffle bag over your shoulder before pulling out the last suitcase. As you adjusted the strap of the bag on your shoulder, Megan reached up and closed the trunk. She hesitated, eyeing you seriously as her hand wrapped around the handle of your luggage.

“I’ve already told you, they’re not going to take an interest in you,” she pressed.

“Oh, really? Is that why I’m getting a welcoming gift from what I presume is probably the damn matriarch?” you whispered harshly.

“Good lord you have written too many of those damn mafia books,” she muttered, turning and dragging your suitcase to the front door with her.

“Well I certainly had enough fucking inspiration for them,” you whispered under your breath.

You followed up the driveway behind your sister, coming to a stop as she took a minute to unlock the door. A moment later she opened it and you were stepping inside behind her, your eyes examining every inch of her house. It was certainly cozy, with a small kitchen and table just off of the front little entryway. Everything looked clean and well organized. You spotted a few plants near the big window.

“So, this is the kitchen, obviously,” Megan said, gesturing a hand at the space as she kept walking forward. “Here is the living room,” she continued as she pointed out the big room just past the kitchen and a staircase to your left. “Though here they call it a sitting room.” She paused, shooting you a smile over her shoulder. “You’re going to sound very American for a while here.”

“That’d be because I am,” you replied.

She rolled her eyes playfully at you before gesturing to a door just in the corner of the space. “Half bathroom.” She turned, gesturing to a sliding glass door on the far end of the living room. “The backyard. Or the garden I suppose is the term here. And then,” she said, hefting your bag up into her arms as she began to ascend the stairs, “the bedrooms are up here.”

Getting a good hold on your bag, you followed your sister up the handful of stairs. Eventually you came to a short landing, setting your bag down as your sister tried to catch her breath.

“Feels like this weighs a hundred pounds,” she complained, pushing some hair off of her forehead. “Right, well, my room is just here,” she told you, pointing at the door on the far left. “Full bathroom here,” she said, gesturing to a door in the middle. “And then your room.”

Megan led the way to the room on the far right, pushing the door open with her shoulder as she pulled your suitcase inside. Dragging your other bag behind her, you made your way in and took in the sight of where you’d be staying for a while. The room wasn’t large, just big enough for a queen sized bed and a small, upright dresser in the far corner. There was a big window just beside the dresser too, a curtain drawn across it.

“You like it?” Megan asked hopefully as she set your luggage by the bed’s footboard.

Nodding, you stepped over to the bed, rolling your suitcase up against it before dropping your duffle bag onto the mattress. “Yeah,” you told her. “It’s bright in here. And you always had a knack for decor.”

“It’s nothing extravagant,” she told you as you made your way over to the window. “But it’s big enough for the both of us. And the garden is nice, you’ll love it out there.”

Pushing back the curtain, the first thing your eyes saw was another window directly across from it. It looked like it was barely ten feet away from yours. There were curtains drawn over the window, but despite that you could easily surmise it was probably the bedroom window of the aforementioned Michael Kinsella. A frown settled onto your lips at that realization.

Great, so the man fresh out of prison could easily peep into your room while you slept. That certainly didn’t make you uncomfortable.

Sighing, you turned back around towards your sister, crossing your arms over your chest. You sent her a smile, one which she readily returned.

“Sorry I’ve been an ass,” you apologized. “I appreciate what you’re doing, letting me stay here. Really. It’s just been a long trip and the time difference is killing me. And I’m–I’m a little stressed knowing there’s people just next door who’d probably be very uncomfortable knowing a neighbor is living here under a false identity.”

“Not like you’re a threat to them,” Megan said.

You blew out a rough breath, your head turning over your shoulder to glance out the window behind you. “No, I’m not,” you agreed softly, eyes lingering on the neighboring window. “But I know how people like them think. One little thing seems off and then they’re all over you. Wondering if you’re an undercover fed or cop.”

“Guard,” Megan cut in, catching your attention. “They call the garda–the police here–guards. Just so you know. But I highly doubt they’re going to take an interest in some quiet novelist.”

“Well, considering I write ‘those damn mafia books’,” you said, uncrossing your arms to air quote your sister’s words, “and they're under my real name, I’d think they could get curious.”

“You’re already telling people it’s a pen name,” Megan said with a wave of her hand. “No one’s going to bat an eye.”

“Right,” you mumbled. Feeling the weight of your fatigue settling in, you asked her, “You uh, you mind if I just have a chance to settle in? Maybe grab a shower and a nap?”

“Oh! No, sorry,” Megan said quickly, making her way towards the door. “Get comfortable, of course. I bet you’re beat. I’ve got spare towels under the sink in the bathroom, too. And if you need anything just holler. I don’t have a shift at the hospital until later tonight so I’ll be around. And there’s some food in the fridge, help yourself to whatever.”

You sent Megan a warm smile as she headed to the door, but after a few steps she hesitated in the doorframe. Eventually she turned, glancing at you over her shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.

“Me too,” you replied.

You watched as Megan made her way out of the room and across the landing, listening to her footsteps as she descended the stairs. When you finally were alone, you trudged over to one of your suitcases, lying it down on its side. You unzipped it, digging around a minute for some comfortable clothing to dress into before grabbing your bag of toiletries. Afterwards you headed out of your room to the bathroom just beside it.

You set your clothes and toiletry bag onto the bathroom counter and then bent down, searching for a clean towel in the vanity. You pulled out a soft, fluffy blue towel and then rose to your feet, spotting an extra towel hook by the shower. Walking over, you hung the towel up before reaching a hand into the shower, turning the water on and letting the water warm up. The spray came out loud, the noise sharp to your ears in the silence.

Turning around, you grabbed the hem of your sweater and slipped it up and over your head before tossing it to the floor. You discarded your bra next before slipping out of your jeans and underwear. But before you could focus back on the shower, your eyes caught sight of your reflection in the mirror and you paused.

There were a few bags under your eyes, no thanks to the flight you’d just endured and the stress of actually getting onto that flight and getting out of the States. You certainly looked as tired as you felt. And your hair looked a little dingy, in desperate need of a wash. Inevitably your eyes dropped lower to the sight of the three long, thin scar lines that were drawn across your stomach. Your right hand reached up, fingertips lightly tracing the length of the healed-over skin.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, your hand eventually dropped back to your side. Forcing your eyes back up to meet your own in the reflection, you reminded yourself that you were safe now. Hidden. And if you laid low long enough, maybe one day you’d truly be free again.

#michael kinsella x female reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x reader #kin fanficiton #michael kinsella fic #kin amc

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