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peterman-spideyparker · 5 months

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Cheesy Hash (Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: So this is probably not great and I apologize in advance. I've only watched the pilot episode of Kin because it's the only one that's been available where I am without having to buy another streaming service our buy by the episode, but I'm obsessed with the gifs and clips I've seen and the fics I've read I just had to write this idea when I had it. It's definitely a fluffier and lighter fic for him, but, he deserves it! Enjoy! :)

Summary: Things are new and exciting with Michael, but at the same time, they feel established and comforting, and nothing is more established and comforting than waking up with Michael on a Saturday and him making you breakfast.

Warnings: Fluff (kissing and tooth-rotting sweetness), angst (Michael's trauma and family baggage), implied smut, a sprinkle of swears

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 990

The pins and needles that begin to prick at your hand is the thing to stir you from your sleep. The gentle trace of warm, calloused fingertips running up and down your arm help pull you from your sleep entirely as you slowly open your eyes to the bright light starting to stream in through the blinds.

“I didn’t mean ta wake ya, love,” Michael rasps softly, trying to preserve the quiet of the peaceful early morning—something you know he doesn’t get to enjoy often, if at all.

“Y’didn’t,” you hum as you open your eyes and look up at him and his gorgeous honey hazel orbs sparkling down at you. “Hand fell asleep.”

“Ah,” he tuts with a soft smile before he leans down to press a kiss into your neck, slowly dragging his lips to your shoulder and collarbone before slotting his lips over yours. You hum into his lips, chuckling softly as his beard tickles at your face.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” he murmurs against your lips.

“Good morning, Michael.”

He softly runs his hand up and down your arm in adoration. “What d’ya want fer breakfast, pet?”

“Mm, I get breakfast, too?”

He smirks and pulls you closer to him in bed. “Course ya do. I have no intention of lettin’ ya leave all weekend.”

“Ooh, scandalous, Mikey.“

Michael smiles and kisses you once more. “What d’ya have a hankering fer, princess?”

“Surprise me.”

“Alright. But you stay here. It’s a surprise, after all.”

“‘Kay,” you grin. Michael leans forward for one final kiss, twisting you back into the mattress and kissing you deeply, making you giggle into the embrace.

“Stay,” he murmurs against your mouth before pressing a final kiss into your lips before he rolls away. You get a very lovely view of his butt as he looks for his discarded boxers on the floor, shimmying them on just enough for them to stay on his hips. “Roll yer tongue back in’ta yer mouth,” he chuckles.

“Sorry, Mikey,” you hum. “Just enjoying one of the lovely views of Ireland.”

He just chuckles some more and shakes his head as he walks out of the bathroom. “Yer a menace.”

You watch him leave, wondering how the stars aligned where you could be with this amazing man, so kind and gentle despite all the hardships, the heartaches he’s gone through and demons he battles night and day. The way that he never tries to burden you with the darkness that weighs on him over and over, the way that when he finally cracks and breaks down, how he weeps when it all becomes too much, how he can turn into a towering, dominant figure when he needs to work through frustrations with intense passion. . .

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear a clatter from the kitchen.

“Mikey?” you call. “You alright?” You don’t hear him respond, and he sounds like he’s fine in the kitchen, but you can’t help your mind from wandering. “Michael?”

You know he told you to wait, but you can’t help yourself. With a sigh—and against your better judgment, knowing you should stick to what he requested— you slide out from under the covers and find Michael’s discarded sweater on the ground. Sliding it on, you’re immediately wrapped in Michael’s smell, as if he's wrapping you in his signature warm, tender hug. Slowly shuffling down the stairs, you turn into the kitchen and find Michael happily working at the stove, shuffling something in his pan before flipping it with a flick of his wrist.

Mm, so sexy.

With a smile, you shuffle over to him, not so quiet where you scare him, but not as loud as an elephant shuffling about. You can tell by how Michael stands at the stove that he hears you, slightly adjusting his posture, readily accepting your arms that slink around his waist.

"What're you doin', pet?" Michael says in amused surprise as he looks over his shoulder while you rest your cheek on his bare back. "I told ya to stay in bed."

"I missed you. And you took all the warmth with you,” you hum. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?” he says with a chuckle of his own. “I really don’t have much and need to run to the market. But I had some eggs, cilantro, Parmesan, and potatoes. ‘M goin’ for a cheesy hash and eggs sort of somethin'.”

“Sounds delicious.” You press a kiss right between his shoulder blades. “Reminds me—I need to go grocery shopping, too. We can make a little date of it.”

“I like that idea.”

“Maybe I can convince you to get a beer that isn’t so shitty.”

“Yer an American—you don’t know anything about good beer,” he laughs, turning around from the pan with the cooking shredded potatoes to kiss you and sit you down on the island. “Now sit and behave.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Well, yer eggs and hash will burn, and we won’t do the fun little activity I had in mind after we eat.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“You really meant all weekend.”

“‘Course I did. ‘M a man of m’word.” Turning around, he has two plates of fried cheesy hash brown circles with two sunny side up eggs on top, extending one of them toward you. “Fer you.”

“Mm, why thank you,” you say with a big smile as you take the plate. “This looks delicious. It smells delicious.”

“T'ank ya,” he says with a kiss, twisting around to get you a fork. You each cut off a bite with your forks, clinking them together before you take your bites. “Damn, I’m a fuckin’ good cook.”

You giggle as you pull him as close to you and the kitchen island that you can, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder. “Yes you are. Good at a few other things, too.”

“And ya say I only have one t'ing on my mind.”

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#michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x fem!reader #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella x reader fluff #michael kinsella x fem!reader fluff #michael kinsella fanfic #michael kinsella fanfiction #kin amc #charlie cox

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years

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same Michael Kinsella anon here, could u also do smut prompt #7: “ i shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you.” for michael kinsella x fem!reader as well, please?

maybe, there's somewhat of an age gap and he's close family friend.

thank u! 💜💜💜

little talks.

pairing: dbf!michael kinsella x fem!reader

word count: 835

warnings: smut, minors dni, age gap but nothing serious, creampie, vaginal s.ex, mentions of alcohol, dirty talking

☕️ drabble weekend (closed) ☕️

You can barely hear the murmurs and music coming from the living room. You had escaped to your bedroom, slightly drunk and flustered from being near Micheal all night. Every look, every touch, his mere presence made your body burn. It was too overwhelming, too much for you to keep locked in. You feel like a fool to think that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t show up tonight. But of course he would. It was your parents' anniversary, he was your dad’s best friend. Of course he would come. You pace around in your room, a hand on top of your heart as you try to calm yourself. The party would end soon. He would go home.

A knock on the door echoes.

You hold your breath.

Another knock.

Swallowing, you head to the door and slowly open it, you can’t help the whimper that leaves you when you see Micheal. He smiles at you and your heart flutters.

“I’m about to leave, love. Wanted to bid you a good night,”

“Ah,” why are you disappointed? “Good night, Micheal. See you around,”

He tilts his head, concern written all over his face.

“Are you alright? You seemed…odd today,”

“I’m fine.” you sound a bit harsher than you intended. “Just– I’ll see you later, alright?”

Silence follows and you make a move to close the door, he grabs the knob and pushes it open.

“May I come inside?”

He phrases it as a question but you know it isn’t. You move out of the way and he enters, turning to you immediately when you close the door.

“Did I do something?” he asks, you’re taken aback how hurt he sounds. “I’m sorry if I did. I’ve been…my mind has been hectic,”

“Micheal I promise you it doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just…nevermind.”

“No, tell me,”

His voice is stern, angry almost. Micheal backs you up to the door, your back flushed against the wood. Your heart beats in your throat, body burning once more as his eyes bore into yours. Chest heaving, you attempt to look away but his hand comes up to your chin and holds you in place. Micheal licks his lips, your eyes watching intently at the way he wets them. Without even thinking you mimic the movement.

“I shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you,”

“Why not?”

You feel suffocated. His mouth traces the underside of your jaw, slightly tilting your head up as his lips travel down to your neck. Michael feels your heartbeat against his lips, your legs almost give out, hands balled into fists as you bite back moans.

“Because I don’t know how much longer I can contain myself around you. Your very being…it tempts me.”

Your breath is caught in your throat.

“I feel the same– So why fight it?”

Your world shifts around you and suddenly you’re thrown over the bed, Michael quickly takes his rightful place between your legs. He pushes up your skirt, sliding your panties to the side with one hand as he pulls out his cock with the other. He drags his thumb between your folds and feels how wet you are for him, a growl trembles within his chest.

He quickly covers your mouth with his his when he thrusts in, despite muffled, your moan still echoes inside of the room. Micheal’s much bigger than you imagined, he fills you up perfectly, stretching your needy cunt in a way that makes your eyes roll back. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, neither of you have the time to wait. His thrusts are quick, hard, deep. Your tongue moves along the inside of his palm, nostrils flaring as you try not to let out too much noise.

“‘Bet that feels good,” he rasps, cock pounding into you. “Can’t wait to fuck you when your pa and ma aren’t in the next room– Can’t wait to hear those pretty little noises you make for me,”

Your cunt throbs at his words, fluttering as it squeezes around his cock. A string of curse words falls from his lips, cock twitching as he fills you to the brim. Micheal’s hand quickly latches onto your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub as cum drips out from the sides of his cock and stains the sheets. He has you coming undone in seconds– Your body spasms, back arching as his fingers continue to play with you. Micheal grinds his hips until you come down from the high of your orgasm, when your breath returns to normal he removes his hand and licks your lips.

“I really should go now,” he whispers. “Before anyone gets suspicious.”

He stuffs his cock back into his jeans and a needy whine leaves your damp lips. Micheal smiles at you, chuckling as he grabs the door knob.

“How about I take you out tomorrow? Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” you smile back at him, tiredly propping yourself above your elbows. “I would like that, a lot actually.”

#michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x fem!reader #michael kinsella x y/n #michael kinsella x you #kin amc #kin 2021 #kin x reader #kin fanfiction #michael kinsella fanfiction #drabble weekend !#demonetized #your friendly neighborhood queue #scheduled

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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 AO3. If you'd like information on my tag lists you can find that here.

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 · 2 months

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Finding You || Chapter 1

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/tags: pinning, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: Okay, wrote this in two days and couldn’t wait to share it with you guys. Alright, hear me out. I’ve rewatched Kin while writing this chapter, and I realized that there is a house right next to Michael’s and they share the same driveway. After some research, I’ve learned they are called semi-detached house. They share a main wall. Usually, they are mirrored. It isn’t the case in Kin. And I kept it that way. So, be prepared for some shenanigans or not. I’m not really sure what I’m gonna do with that information. If you have some ideas just drop them in the comments. It could be fun for future chapters. So, I’m happy to share the result of my investigation. I also hope I did a good job in writing Michael’s brief POV. And forgive my attempt at writing an Irish accent. I don’t think I did a good job. But I’ll let you be the judge of that. Can you also tell that the only other person I really like from this family is Birdy? I hope you’ll like this first chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter List || Next chapter

Masterlist || join my taglist

Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie, @sunflowersandsapphires, @schneeflocky, @danzer8705, @shouldbestudying41

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Dublin, Ireland. When you decided a few months ago to move out, Dublin wasn’t even on your list of destination. You didn’t even think of it. But there you were. You jumped the sea, as they would say back home. You had crossed two oceans to reach this beautiful city. To start anew.

After your father passed away, a little over two years ago, you needed a fresh start. You had spent a decade taking care of him while he was sick and in recovery. Working small jobs, barely having any friends or barely going out. You lived to take care of him and nothing else. When he died, you were saddened, yes. But you had felt relief more than anything. And then, you had felt guilty for it. He was your father and you loved him. Although, resentment had taken over in the last few years. Not just towards your father, towards your siblings too. Still, you loved him.

Why Dublin? You did not know. Why not Dublin? As you were making the decision to move out of your current place—place you had shared with your father—you had seen an ad that promoted travels to Ireland. It looked so beautiful and so green. It looked so inviting and you thought to yourself; Ireland seemed like the perfect place to start over.

So, there you were, settling into your new home. Your father had not forgotten what you had sacrificed while you took care of him. In his last will, he had left you a significant amount of money to do as you pleased. He wasn’t rich by any means, the money he had left was significant for someone like you. A couple of hundred thousand euros. When you heard the news, you were surprised by that. You had not realized that your father had saved up so much money. You even wondered where it had come from since you were the one who had managed his financials in the later years. You were not complaining though. He had left you enough to start over. It had been enough for you to move country and buy your new house.

Of course, your siblings had been supportive in your decision. Giving you their blessings, not that you had needed it. Not really. It had made your decision to move easier though. The most supportive of them was your youngest brother; Matthew. It was funny to you that he was now your greatest support. Growing up you both hated each other. You were his eldest of five years. You fought constantly, always at each other’s throats. And now, you were the closest you had ever been. He was the one you turned to when you needed help. And every time, he needed help he turned to you. It wasn’t that you did not trust your two other siblings but you trusted him the most. And they knew it.

You had started a new job too. You worked at a call center for an insurance company. Providing people with the help they needed for their house after a housefire or for water damages, or even after they had been robbed. It was not your dream job but it was a job. It paid the bills and the groceries. You had no reason to complain really. Except about the people that were calling and sometimes being rude on the phone. You understood that it was taking too long for some of them but you couldn’t go against the system. There were rules you had to follow and you were doing your best to provide them the help they needed. However, some of them had a tendency to forget that you were also human. And yelling at you, was not going to make you go faster.

Funniest part about you working in a call center was that you hated talking on the phone. As an introvert, you hated phone conversation. Your sister; Mary knew it more than anyone. You had told her that you always get annoyed every time she called. You did talk to her on the phone and you always ended up having a good time on the phone. But it always felt as though she was being rude anytime she called you. So, that you chose to work in a call center, was a laughable idea. Because every time the phone rang, which was pretty often in your line of work, you hated it. Sure, you had a script to follow but some of those problems were specific and you needed to think on the spot. Which you weren’t really good at. That was why you loved texting more than you loved calling. At least, when you were texting you had time to think of an answer. On the phone, you were pulling answers out of your ass. And they weren’t sometimes the best. Also, staring at a screen all day was draining.

In spite of that, you loved your new house and your new life so far. It was all perfect. Except maybe for the fact that you were living next door to criminals. You knew you should have questioned it when the house was sold to you for a low price. You knew it was low because it was Dublin and houses all over the market were much more expensive. But this one went to you for a price you could actually afford. You had gone in expecting to have to rent the place and when they offered to sell it to you instead. You had agreed. However, the realtor had failed to tell you who were your neighbors.

As soon as you had moved into your new home, one of your neighbors had brought you a housewarming gift. A sweet lady that lived across the street from you. Her name was Bridget Goggins but she went by Birdy. She had long and dark curly hair. Blue eyes and a kind smile. She had shown you nothing but kindness and you had appreciated it. You immediately took a liking in her. She had told you that her nephew Jimmy, his wife and his two sons lived two houses down from yours. And she had briefly mentioned her nephew; Michael. Apparently, he lived right next to you. He had been gone for some time. And that explained why the house was empty. For you, at the time, you had not seen anything wrong with it. It was just a neighbor being friendly to you and making you feel welcome.

She had been nice. Very nice. Albeit a little too curious about you and your family. Your lips were tight. You did not like to share information about yourself. And you were protective of your family. You gave her very basic and vague information. It wasn’t against her. It was just a thing your father had trained you to do. He had drilled into your brain to not share information about your family, because people would use it against you. So, you mostly hid things about your family and even, lied to some. You didn’t lie to Birdy; you just didn’t tell her much. And neither did she. And you respected that.

You would later learn that the Kinsella, Birdy’s family, were notorious criminals. They dealt in drugs trafficking mostly and may have been involved in a few murders. Specifically, Michael Kinsella. He had been gone alright. Eight years in prison for manslaughter, of his own wife. And it all clicked. The low price, the empty house next door, Birdy being way too curious about you. It all made sense. And it also scared you. You did not want to get involved with the Kinsella. Not if they were going to create problems for you.

You kept to yourself mostly. You barely saw Jimmy and his wife anyway. It was easy to avoid them. As for Birdy, it was slightly more complicated. The woman seemed to always know when to find you. And since you did not want to be rude to her, not just because she was a criminal. But mainly because you were a pushover, you could not refuse her. You kept your distance as best as you could. Although, it was impossible for you not to take a liking in her. She was most of the time motherly towards you. And you had craved that sort of affection since the day your mother had walked out of your life. And as much as you wanted to avoid the Kinsella because of their line of work, you found it hard to just pull away from Birdy. You liked her very much. Against your better judgement.

Apart from living near the Kinsella, your life was quite good here in Dublin. You were settling in nicely. And you loved your house. It was yours, and you made it cozy and warm. It was your own little haven. You loved coming back to it after a long day of work.

Sitting on your couch, you were unwinding after the long day you just had. You heard a distant peel of laughter. When you crossed path with Birdy this morning and she had offered to drop you off, she had mentioned the return of her nephew Michael. She was going to buy some party food for the evening. So, you knew what it meant, your neighbors were celebrating the return of the prodigal son.

And soon, the empty house next door would not be so empty anymore.

It made you nervous for some reason. You were about to share a yard with a murderer. You did not know what to expect. Hopefully, with you two sharing a wall, you’d know how to avoid him. You groaned out loud realizing that Birdy might create problems in the future. You had grown closer to the woman in spite of yourself. And she made it a habit to come and visit you sometimes. Whether you liked it or not you may actually cross path with Michael Kinsella.

“That was a short reunion.” You mused out loud when you heard the distant goodbyes. You switched off your television before going upstairs, to get ready for bed.

You had fell into a fitful sleep that night. Knowing that a man capable of murder was sleeping next door to you, made you feel unsafe. You had lived months in your home, knowing well you lived next to criminals. And yet, it was the man next door that made you feel unsafe in your own bed. And you had not seen him yet. And you had no intention to.

Lack of sleep did not make for a good day at work. You prided yourself in being a very patient person. You had trained yourself though. When you were younger; in the years that followed your mother’s leaving; you had been a very short tempered and moody person. And being a teenager at the time did not help the matter. You would explode at random at the people around you. And it was always your family that was on the receiving end. Did it come from anger? Or grief? Or even sadness? You did not really know. You were pretty sure it was a combination of it all. What really helped though, was your family making fun of you every time you did lose your patience. They would apologize profusely, with a smile on their faces, while bowing to you. The overreaction from them made you laugh every single time. It made you realize how ridiculous you could be. It made you realize you had no business being this enraged because they breathed in your direction.

However, what made you really snap out of it, though, was your sister. You did not remember what was said or when it was really. All you remembered was that one morning during breakfast, your sister was speaking to you and you snapped at her. For no reason at all. And it had brought tears to her eyes. It had hurt her. And it made you realize that you never wanted to make your sister feel this way ever again. She was your only sister and your best-friend, and you needed to treat her better. You needed to treat the people around you better. So, you took it upon yourself to think before you spoke. You stopped yourself before you could snap. Always, taking a deep breath and gave yourself a few seconds before opening your mouth. And sometimes, you just kept quiet and walked away. It had helped you over the years in growing more patient. And also, nowadays, you did not give as much of a fuck as you did back then. It took a lot more for you to lose your temper.

Lack of sleep, on the other hand—never made a good friend when it came to keeping yourself in check. Everything and everyone irritated you. If they glanced at you or even opened their mouth to speak to you, you would get annoyed. But you did keep yourself in control the whole day. You kept yourself in control with your colleagues and with the clients on the phone. And now, you were terribly exhausted. You couldn’t wait to just drop in your bed and be dead to the world for the next twelve hours.

“Hey, Birdy.” You greeted quietly as you got to your house. She was on your neighbor’s doorstep about to go in.

“Hello, pet.” She smiled at you. “You look properly tired, dear. What happened to ya?”

“I feel like it too.” You snorted. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. But I’m going to make up for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You’re visiting the new neighbor?”

“I’m bringing him some proper food.” She showed you the trays she was holding. “There’s some here fer ya.”

You sighed. “You didn’t have to, Birdy.”

“I like taking care of ya.” Birdy answered with a soft smile. “Come on, take it.”

“Alright.” You yielded before taking the tray off of her hands.

“Have you met Mikey yet?”

“Can’t say I had the pleasure.” You shook your head, fishing for your keys.

“Wanna come and say hi?” She offered.

Your lips twitched up in the corners. “Not really. Another time, perhaps?” You unlocked your door.

“Yeah, another time.” Birdy smiled at you as you disappeared into your house. As she, herself, disappeared into your neighbor’s house.

Michael was sitting on his sofa, a book in his lap. He had not been reading, not really. His thoughts kept going back to his daughter Anna. He couldn't resist the temptation to go and see her. He had kept his distance but he had taken everything in him to not get up and run to her.

She had looked so grown since he last saw her. She was no longer a child; she was growing to be a young and beautiful woman. Eight years had been a long time away from her. He had missed out on so much. He missed her so much it was hard to breathe sometimes. He had to do things right by her. He needed to do what was right, if he wanted to have her back in his life.

He would straighten out his act. He would stop dealing with the family business. He would keep out of it. He would do everything he could just so he could have her back in his life. It was the most important thing to him at this moment. Anna was the most important thing to him at this time. He must do right by her.

Muffled voices from outside drew his attention away from his own thoughts. He had recognized Birdy but the second voice did not belong to someone he knew. He couldn’t hear much of what was being said. But Birdy and you had seemed really close by the sound of it.

Birdy had pushed the door open and stepped in. “Good evenin’ Mickey.” She greeted him softly. “Brought ya some proper food.” She said showing him the covered dish she had in her hands.

Michael smiled back at her. “Thank ya, Birdy. But ya didn’t have to do that.”

Birdy walked into the kitchen. “Of course, I had to.” She placed the dish on the kitchen counter.

“Who were ya talking to?” Michael couldn’t help but ask. He was curious to know more about you. Especially if Birdy seemed to be close to you.

“Your new neighbor.” She replied taking off her coat. And then gave him your name.

So, that was you; Michael thought. He had caught a brief glimpse of your shadow through your large window, after he had come back from Jimmy’s. The curtains were drawn. But he had seen you through them as you moved around your kitchen. For as far as he could remember, the house next door had always been empty. People tend to refuse to buy once they knew who would be their neighbor. And he couldn’t blame them. It was now strange for him to suddenly have a neighbor after all those years.

The empty house next door would not be so empty anymore.

“She’s a real sweet girl, ya know. A hard worker too. But a bit lonely.” Birdy opened his fridge. “She could use some more friends.”

“Yeah?”

“So could ya.” Birdy wore a small smirk on her face. “I’ll put this in the fridge. Ya can have it later. I’ll get you a few more bits, Mikey. Fill this up for ya.”

“Nah, ya don’t have to go to any trouble. I could do that.” Michael moved to the sofa’s armrest.

“It’s not trouble.” Birdy told him strongly. Before moving next to the stairs. “Not for family.” She smiled at him. “Missed havin’ ya around, Mikey. We all have. We’ve all been waitin’ for ya to get out.” Michael hummed in response. “Especially Frank and your brother. It’s been tough on them without you.” She said softly, gazing back at him. “Carryin’’ the load all on their own. I mean Eric is—he’s a good boy. But he’s not you.” She gave a small shrug.

Frank had put her up to this. Michael just knew it. He knew what she was getting at. Frank wanted him back, in the family business. But he couldn’t do that. Not if he wanted to see Anna again. He wouldn’t change his mind about this.

“But you’re back now,” Birdy said and Michael nodded in response. “That’s the main thing.”

“Yeah.”

Birdy walked up to him. “You understand what I’m sayin’. I know you do. You’re not like your mother. You’re a Kinsella. And we stick together.” And she leaned and rested a light peck to his lips. “Always.”

You probably would have gone another night with a restless sleep if your body was not so exhausted. You had heated up some of the food Birdy had brought you. Although, living next to crime lords was not ideal, Birdy made it easier by taking care of you. As much as you had taken a liking in her. She had taken one in you. Always showing up at your door with extra food or inviting you over to share a cup of tea or coffee. The only issue was that you did not know if she was being sincere with you. You didn’t entirely trust her. Your lack of trust may not have been entirely due to her being a Kinsella. It was also due to your past. You had been burned too many times before and you didn’t know whether she had ulterior motives or not. But you had wanted to trust her more. You really wanted to.

Although, you knew you shouldn’t want that.

You were in a better state of mind that morning. You had your coffee; you were awake and rested. And you hoped for a better day at work.

“Good mornin’.”

You gasped as you turned sharply to face your neighbor. You had not paid attention to your surroundings, too focused on going through your morning routine.

“M’ sorry. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He softly chuckled.

“It’s okay.” You shook your head quickly. “I just—wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”

Your heart started to gallop like a wild horse under your ribcage. You were facing the neighbor; you did not want to face. The man who had been sent to prison for manslaughter. You had to remind yourself of that. Because in spite of what you knew, the man standing in front of you was quite handsome. with his thick beard and dark hair. And his hazel eyes were beautiful and seemed kind.

“I’m Michael.” He put out his hand.

Your eyes snapped to his hand. You should probably take it. You really shouldn’t but this would be rude, wouldn’t it? “I know.” You said and introduced yourself. Making the final decision to put your hand in his. His calloused fingers felt rough against yours but his grip was warm and gentle. “Your new neighbor.”

“I know. Birdy told me.”

“Yeah.” You smiled quickly. You pulled your hand out of his grip. “I have to go. I—I don’t want to be late for work.”

“Okay.” His face fell slighty, and you momentarily felt bad.

“It was nice meeting you, Michael.” You said. You did not want him to think that you were running away from him.

“Yeah, you too.” He gave you a tight smile.

“Yeah, bye.” You turned away quickly and made your way to the end of your street where your colleague was waiting for you.

Real criminals didn’t look like criminals, you needed to remind yourself of that. No matter what you may think, Michael still killed people. He only got caught for the murder of his wife. He didn’t matter that he seemed kind. He didn’t matter that he looked handsome. He was still dangerous.

“Fuck!” You cussed as you were getting closer to your colleague’s car. “I’m in trouble.”

Chapter List || Next chapter

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x fem! reader #michael kinsella fic #michael kinsella #michael kinsella fluff #kin rte #kin bbc

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sunflowersandsapphires · 6 months

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Self-Indulgent HCs

pairing(s): Frank Castle x fem!Reader, Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: How each of the boys would care for you when you were sick, headcanons bc i am tired

warnings: non-graphic, general descriptions of sickness (just cold/fever, not covid)

a/n: this month was already rough on my allergies but i came down with quite possibly the worst cold I’ve ever had. (It’s literally so bad i had to use PTO instead of WFH days? I am literally dying.) I wrote this when I was feverish and couldn’t sleep to make myself feel better. I hope someone out there likes it 😭

Frank

I think Frank would worry a lot when his partner was sick.

He’s lost so many people and he doesn’t have a huge circle so i think it takes him by surprise a little.

But he’d do his best to hide his worries by going about his day and comforting you.

He’d get fresh produce from the store and make you delicious soup, pick up tissues and medicine for you, threaten anyone who tried to make you go into work

“Your boss still pullin’ that shit? Gimme the phone, let me talk to ‘em”

He loves being your big spoon anyways but he would not let you go if you looked or sounded ill. You’d be nestled carefully against his chest while he stroked your back until you fell asleep.

He’d keep you entertained by reading to you or watching whatever TV your fever-ridden mind is craving.

Above all, he wouldn’t leave your side until you were feeling better.

The smile on his face the next time you take him out would be brilliant. He’s just so happy that you’re here with him and feeling better.

Matt

Personally, i hate the idea of getting people sick more than actually being sick sometimes but i think this would especially be the case with Matt

His senses are so delicate, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him by being gross and loud or by getting him sick.

But there is no way this man isn’t the biggest self-sacrificing-mother-hen when someone he loves is sick.

He’d sense your illness before you would, and encourage you to take it easy and sleep a bit extra that week (above all, he’s a hypocrite.)

Of course, he’s a bit embarrassed of everything he can do, or maybe you don’t know the extent of what he is capable of, so he plays it off as “you’ve been working so hard lately, sweetheart, you need to take it easy.”

A day or two before the bug hits you like a truck, he’d come over with a bag from the pharmacy that’s just chock-full of DayQuil and Tea and cough drops and like a single bandaid

He poorly plays it off as “uh, your first aid kit was low, remember?”

Once you’re well and truly sick, he’d be stubborn as a mule if you tried to keep him away. You lock him out of your apartment? You wake up from a nap wrapped in a Devil-shaped blanket to find that someone picked your window lock.

At that point, you just cave and let him stay because you are so cold and he’s so so warm.

Mikey

Not afraid of using his puppy dog eyes to get you to stay home or in bed.

Also not afraid of crying wolf and pretending that he’s not feeling well to make you take a break

“Sorry, pet, my head is hammerin’. Think we could lay down fer a bit?”

Combined WITH the puppy eyes? You don’t stand a chance.

Though you usually take care of the housework while he’s dealing with his family’s business, he wouldn’t let you lift a finger until your temperature was normal and your voice came back.

It’s as if you’re the only person that exists to him, he’s running around trying to anticipate your every need.

It’s been a while since he’s dealt with the real world so he might ask Birdy for advice on how to care for a sick person.

Lots of home remedies (idk just vibes.)

He would have you lean against him in a scalding shower to clear your sinuses or draw you a nice bath.

Keep cool water and a cloth by the bed to bring your fever down.

Hand you cup after cup of tea until you have to threaten to tie him to the bed.

“Just lay with me, please”

“Of course, pet. Anything fer ya.”

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yarrystyleeza · 1 year

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YOMNA'S MASTERLIST ♡ ⋆｡˚

Note: I only write Fluff/Angst x fem!reader, and my works might contain violent/bloody themes due to the nature of the fictional characters/fictional works I write for.

I do not write smut.

Another important thing, a lot of these works are old ones so, figurative language, phrasing and my very style might be a little messed up—but it progresses. I am not a professional writer but I'm always trying to improve my writing, and it is more visible in my more recent works, hopefully.

ᐅ Last updated: 01/03/2024

tone nav. : F/fluff — A/angst — V/violence

↳ [each work is marked individually]

← navigation

♡ Fics/Blurbs

↓ Requests

☆ In A Heartbeat [Matt Murdock x Madilyn Mayfield (oc)] → [ON GOING]

↳ mattilyn blurbs ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

♡ Fics/Blurbs

↓ Requests

♡ Fics/Blurbs

↓ Requests

♡ Fics/Blurbs

↓ Requests

☆ Arduous Solitude [Henry x fem!reader installment series] → [ON GOING]

♡ Fics/Blurbs

↓ Requests

★ yuna's 2h followers sleepover celebration

★ yuna's 22nd birthday sleepover

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shiorimakibawrites · 7 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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mattmurdocksscars · 1 year

Text

To Tell The Truth

A/N: Hello, loves! Have some Mikey content! This does contain spoilers for the new season so beware that! We start off a little angsty then get fluffy then get smutty. So we have a bit of everything here!

Word Count: 2148

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

When Michael called to ask to come over, you were not expecting him to show up with a six pack dangling from his fingers that already had two beers missing from it.

"Woah. We celebrating something or what?" At Michael's scoff, your expression softened. "What happened, Mikey?"

"You remember tha' girl I was seein'?"

"Yeah, Molly right?"

"Yeah. Well, you'll never guess what she's off doing."

"Tell me."

"She's getting married." Your eyes widened and then your heart broke for Michael.

"Oh, Mikey…"

"The worst part is, she didn't even bother ta tell me. I found out from her coworker." Michael took a large swig from the beer in his hand and then laughed bitterly. "I must be a magnet for taken women or somethin'."

He continued on to tell you about how Amanda had been following him lately too and how he didn't know what to do now. It broke your heart to see him so broken but it also pissed you off to hear him talk so poorly about himself. Like he didn't deserve better.

"Maybe I'm just meant to be alone."

"That's not true, Mikey."

"Yeah? And how do you know? Every girl who's interested in me is already in a relationship and either doesn't tell me or tries to manipulate me in some way."

"That's not true either. I like you just fine and I'm single." You immediately shut your mouth realizing what you said but thankfully, Michael took it a different way.

"That's not the same." He took another swig of beer and then crushed the now empty can. "I just want to find someone who isn't going to lie to me."

You watched quietly as he pulled another can free and opened it. You wanted to tell him the truth in that moment. That you liked him as so much more than a friend. That you were in love with him. But you couldn't do it.

"Listen. You'll find that, I promise. Just stay away from the likes of Amanda and Molly. They don't want what's best for you."

"And I suppose you do?" You froze, looking over at Michael who was staring at you with a strange look in his eyes. You licked your lips and chose your words carefully.

"Yeah, I do. You know I do. You're my best friend, Michael, and I just want you to be happy." He just shook his head and took a sip of his beer. You knew he was bordering on piss drunk and that you needed to be very careful about what you said so he didn't remember anything too damning.

"Mikey… I wish you could see how much you're worth. You're not some object to be manipulated. You're a human being who deserves to be loved and taken care of."

"I'm not so sure." Was all he mumbled before he stumbled over to your couch and sat down on it. He leaned his head back and sighed like the world was on his shoulders.

"Stay here tonight, Mikey. You're drunk and I'd feel better if you didn't walk home." He mumbled something you didn't quite hear before rolling his head over to look at you.

"Okay, pet." You smiled softly at the nickname before walking over and gently taking the pack of beer from his hand. He kept the open container clutched in his other hand and you let him keep that one.

"I'm just gonna put these in the fridge and then I'll get you a blanket." Michael nodded and as you were walking away, you heard him once again mumble something you couldn't hear. You put his beer in the fridge and grabbed a blanket before walking back to your living room. You smiled as you realized he was already fast asleep, the open beer can left on the side table. You gently covered him in the blanket then cleaned up the beer before heading to bed yourself.

You were deep asleep when Michael's gruff voice calling your name startled you awake.

"Wha-"

"Sorry, pet, but your heat went out. I was gonna let ya know I'm heading home and ask if ya wanna come with me." You looked over to your clock and read that it was nearing three am. Now that Michael had mentioned it, you realized you were chilly but that your blankets had managed to keep you warm.

"No way, Mikey. It's almost three am. Just come sleep next to me. It's plenty warm in the bed." You told him sleepily. He raised an eyebrow but slowly walked over to the other side of the bed.

"Ya sure, pet?"

"Yeah. We're adults, we can sleep next to each other." Michael nodded and climbed into bed next to you. You could practically feel the chill coming off of him and frowned.

"Jesus, Mikey, how long did you wait? I can feel the chill radiating off of you."

He gave you a sheepish look.

"A little while. I didn't want to wake ya."

"Well, next time, wake me sooner." Michael nods and the both of you settle down for the night. You're just getting ready to nod off when Michael says something.

"Hm?"

"I said… did you mean everything you said earlier?"

"About waking me sooner? Yes." He let out a soft chuckle.

"No. When we were talkin before I fell asleep. Did you really mean that I deserve better? And that ya want what's best for me?" You worried your lip between your teeth before nodding slowly.

"Yeah… yeah, Mikey, I did."

"...Are you in love with me, pet?" You closed your eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

"Yes. I am. I've loved you for so long. And I'm sorry, I don't want to make things awkward so I promise I won't ever say anything about it again-" You're cut off by a pair of soft lips covering your own and you freeze, afraid this is all some dream and that if you move, it'll all be over.

"I don't want ya to do that, love."

"Oh?"

"I want ya to tell me every day how much ya love me so I can tell ya the same." He whispered against your lips. He leans in to kiss you again and you moan against his lips bringing a smile to his face. He rolls the two of you so he's on top of you and presses kiss after kiss to your mouth. It's as he begins to kiss down your neck that your brain fires a flare.

"Mikey, wait… wait…" Michael immediately stops and pulls back, concern on his face.

"What is it?"

"You're drunk… and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want this to just be something you do because you're drunk and you've had a rough day and-"

"Love, shhh. This ain't that. I slept off the alcohol, I'm sober I promise. And I swear ta ya this isn't a one time thing for me. I could never regret ya." He cups your face and stares straight into your eyes so you can see the truth in them.

"You promise?" You whisper.

"I swear. I'll even tell ya all of this in the mornin' if ya want me to." He grins and you giggle, reaching up to cup his face.

"As long as you're still here in the morning, that's all that matters to me." His grin softens and he kisses you softly.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, love." This time you kiss him and it doesn't take long for things to heat up between the two of you.

"Do ya want this, pet?"

"Yes, Mikey, please…" Your voice is breathless as Michael starts his path back down your neck. You tilt your head back to give him better access and you feel his smirk against your skin. You feel his hands slip down your sides then slide under your shirt to skate along your hips.

"I've wanted this for so long, pet." Michael admits as he slowly lifts your shirt up and off of you, flinging it across the room once you're free of it. You shudder against the cold air of the room and Michael pulls the blankets so they're up around the both of you.

"Can I touch ya, love?" Michael asks, his hands settled just below your breasts. You nod and he brings his hands up to caress your breasts causing you to moan and arch your back. He chuckles above you and then leans down, laving his tongue over one of your nipples. You gasp and your hands shoot up to bury in his hair, pulling a groan from him. He works your chest over skillfully and has you moaning and writhing below him in no time.

"Mikey, please… stop teasing me. Need you." He pulls back far enough to look at you before nodding. The two of you shuffle around as you both work to get your pants down and off followed quickly by hs.

"Do ya need me to stretch you out, pet?" You whine and roll your hips against him causing him to hiss as your cunt rubs against his dick.

"Just need you, Mikey."

"Alright, pet. I'll taste ya later." There's a glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine but you don't have long to dwell on it before he's lining up and sinking into you slowly. You both moan at the feeling of him bottoming out and he gives you a moment to get used to his size. Once you squeeze his arms to get him moving though he sets a slow, leisurely pace. He leans down and kisses you, his lips following the pace of his hips. It's slow and oh so sweet. Michael's hands run up your sides to your arms and finally to your hands where he intertwines his fingers with yours.

"Fuck, love, ya feel so good wrapped around my cock." Michael moans into your mouth. His lips don't seem to want to leave yours, even to talk. He adjusts his hips to better thrust into you and the change has you crying out as he hits the spot within you that you'd only ever heard about. You squeeze his hands and throw your head back, hips rising to meet his as best as possible.

"That's it, pet. Take what I give ya. Yer so good fer me." Michael grunts and picks the pace up some and you find yourself hurtling towards your orgasm. You can only cry out Michael's name as a warning before the wave rushes over you and you spasm around his cock. Michael growls at the feeling of you milking his cock and fucks you through it.

"Fuck, pet, where- where do ya want me to cum?" His words come out as a pant as he tries to hold off his own orgasm.

"Inside! I'm on birth control, please, Mikey, wanna feel you inside!" You whine and Michael curses before thrusting once, twice and cumming deep within your walls. He collapses on top of you and makes sure to pull the covers in tight so you don't get cold. He's still resting snugly inside of you and the both of you sigh at the feeling.

"Could stay like this forever." Michael murmurs before pressing a soft kiss to your neck. You smile and wriggle your arms until he lets you go so that you can wrap your arms around him and hold him close.

"I can't say we can stay like this forever, but we can at least stay like this for the rest of the night." You tell him and his eyes light up.

"Really? With me in you? You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course I wouldn't. I'm comfortable like this. Besides… how else are we going to stay warm?" You ask with an innocent lilt to your voice. Michael chuckles and leans down to kiss you deeply.

"We can always go to my place."

"In the morning. I don't wanna move right now." You tell him, solidifying that you wanted him right where he was. He tucked the blankets more firmly around you and settled in.

"Oh, and pet?"

"Hm?"

"Don't be surprised if I wake you up with my head between your perfect thighs. I didn't get a taste and I'm always starving in the mornings." He told you, a dark glint in his eyes that has you clenching around him. He growls and dips down to kiss you.

"You won't find any complaints here. Now relax. Let me be good for you and keep you warm." Michael bit his lip, contemplating if he wanted to start round two or do as you said. Deciding on the latter, he let himself get comfortable again.

"Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight, Mikey."

And if he made good on his promise to eat you out in the morning? Well… you certainly weren't complaining.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x female!reader #michael kinsella fic #michael kinsella fanfic #michael kinsella smut

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murdocksluvrr · 2 years

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WIP TITLE TAG GAME

— @mindidjarin thank you for the tag lovely !! 🤍

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet or tell you something about it!

i don’t have a lot of wips😅

• to be or not to be (a coincidence) — matt murdock

• tristan thorn x fem!reader (no title)

• it’s different when [he’s] with me — michael kinsella

no pressure tags: @cellophaine @foggywells @novaresque

#tag game

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years

Note

congratulations again on 3k love!! 💘💘

the goldfish problem 🐟 - send me a drabble request

-> michael kinsella taking reader out on a dinner date

thank you bby!! <3333

moments.

pairing: michael kinsella x fem!reader

word count: 302

✨click here to join the 3k escapade (closed)✨

You’ve been getting ready all day. You picked out the perfect dress, did your hair, and put in way too much effort into your make-up but as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you thought that it was all worth it. It’s not like it was everyday where Michael Kinsella actually found the time to take you out on a nice dinner. The fact that he was waiting downstairs for you made you even more excited, your heart thrumming in your chest as you walked down the stairs.

Micheal’s face lit up when he saw you. Quickly getting up, he made his way towards you. He held you by the hand and helped you down, after that he placed a quick, soft kiss against your hand. You giggled.

“Michael,” you hummed. “I’m assuming by your reaction you like the dress?”

“I love it darling,” the creases in the corner of his eyes deepened. “Makes me almost not want to leave,”

“I’ll still be wearing this when we get back,” you tease as the two of you headed out. “There’s nothing on this earth strong enough to make me miss those reservations,”

When the two of you arrive at the restaurant, you marvel at the gorgeous architecture of it. A wide smile gracing your lips as you begin to head to the glass doors with Michael by your side. But right at the entrance Michael suddenly took a hold of your wrist and pulled you to him, crashing his lips against yours, and pulling back just as fast. You feel dizzy, a lopsided smirk forming on your lips. Michael chuckled at your dazed look and guided you inside, you felt his lips against your ear.

“I bet now you wished we stayed home,”

“You’re a mean one Micheal Kinsella, that’s for sure.”

#michael kinsella x fem!reader #michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x y/n #kin amc #kin 2021 #kin x reader #burnthoneymint's 3k escapade #.the goldfish problem 🐟

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bellaxgiornata · 26 days

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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siampie · 11 days

Text

Finding You||Chapter 2

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3 k

Warnings/tags: pinning, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome, mention of emotional abuse.

A/N: Enjoy this chapter, you guys. I don’t have much to say about this chapter. Apart from the fact that there’s some set up for Reader’s own story.

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@beezusvreeland

Dividers by @cafekitsune

I have to talk to you, call me.

That was all what your sister;Mary;had texted you. She had sent it last night while you were sleeping. You couldn’t call her that morning. Not being in the same time zone made communication between you difficult but not impossible. It had also triggered your anxiety. What did she want to talk about? Maybe it was nothing too important. You were trying to convince yourself. A feeble attempt to calm your nerves.

Still, you were anxious. You usually called one another on the week-ends. And you never asked to call. It was never a thing. That she went out of her way to ask you to call was strange and worrisome. So being in a different time zone than your sister, you waited for your lunch break to call her.

“So, how’s life in Dublin?” You sister asked you once she picked up the call. You stood outside of the building. Your sister was finishing feeding her son his breakfast as you were calling her.

“Good.” You answered quickly. “How’s the little one?” You knew what she was doing, she was stalling. Whatever she had to say must be really bad if she felt the need to stall. So, you played into it. But the fact that she was stalling only spiked your anxiety levels.

“He’s growing up.” She said, you could hear the smile in her voice. Your sister had always wanted to be a mother and after years of trying with her partner, she became one to a healthy little boy. You were happy for her. “But it always seems like he’s trying to get himself killed.”

You snorted. “It seems like he’s failing so far.” You heard the clatter of utensils on the line. “Why did you want me to call?”

“Oh, boy!” You sister let out a long breath. “It’s about mom.”

“What about her?” You let out a shaky breath.

“Dave may have told her where you live. Giving her your address and everything.” Mary told you.

Dave was your brother. You did not have a good relationship with him. You didn’t hate him but he had failed to show up anytime you asked for his help. While you showed up each and every single time. And he sometimes had the audacity to blame you for being ungrateful for all that he was doing for you. You could not be grateful for something he had never done or that he done once in a blue moon. Whereas he failed to see all the times you had helped him.

He had not been in favor of your moving away. Judging that the money that your father had left you, should be shared amongst you. Because that was what your father would have wanted; for you to share the money equally. But you had refused. You were going to but the fact he suggested the idea. No, not suggested. Demanded that you do it, had made you decide otherwise. You chose to enjoy the money your father had left for you. Mary and Matthew had found it natural that your father would leave that money to you. You had earned it for all the sacrifices you had made for them.

After all, your sacrifices had allowed them to move out, to live their lives. It had allowed them to fall in love and build their own home and family. While you remained behind, taking care of your father, and maybe wasting your life away. They knew what you had done for them. And all they wanted was for you to finally be happy. This money was your reward. And you could do with it as you pleased.

You felt your anger flared up in your veins. You took a deep breath before you spoke. Trying to leave the anger out of your tone. Your sister was not the one who betrayed your trust. She was only the messenger. And you didn’t want to yell at her. Not at your sister.

“What the hell did he do that for?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “All he said was that mom asked and he saw no reason not to tell her.”

“Look, I get why all of you want a relationship with her. I do. But I told you, I don’t want to have a relationship with the woman.” You reminded her.

“I know that.” Mary reassured you. “And Matt knows that. And so does Dave. And honestly, I don’t know why he did that. But you’re in Ireland. She’s not gonna show up on your doorstep. You really think she’s gonna waste money on you?”

“No, I don’t think she will.” You replied, leaning on the wall behind you. “Still, I don’t want her to know where I am. She’s still with that prick, isn’t she?”

“They’ve been together for twenty years. And there’s no sign of a separation. They are more in love than ever.”

You scoffed. “Of course they are.”

“Listen, I don’t think they are gonna come and find you in Ireland. And why would they?” Mary tried to comfort you.

“To stir shit up.” You replied.

“I think she genuinely wants to have a relationship with you. And I know, you don’t. And Dave was wrong to give her your address.” Mary kept on. “I don’t think she’s going to show up, I just needed you to know.”

That gave you pause. “You don’t think she’s going to show up. But you needed me to know that she knew where I was?”

“Yeah—just in case.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Just in case. Yeah, she’s definitely showing up. With her boyfriend.”

“Husband.” Your sister corrected you.

“Fantastic.” You said dryly. “Remind me again why I decided not to go no contact with Dave?”

“Your goddaughter.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Of course.” Your sister breathed out. “What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t?”

“The bad kind.” You joked softly. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“Say it back.” You frowned up.

“Talk to you later.” And she hung up. You immediately texted back a middle finger emoji.

You laughed when she texted it back to you. You dropped your head back against the wall.

Your mother had left when you were a child. And immediately after leaving your father, she had found love in the arms of her new husband. After years of emotional abuse, and manipulation on her part, of constant walking in and out of your life, you put a stop to it. You couldn’t go through this anymore. It was too painful. Plus, you hated her new husband. He was—he was not good. You had tried to accept him. You wanted to. But something about him, the way he behaved around you, made you afraid and unsafe. You couldn’t have that in your life. You didn’t want to feel that way anytime you were around your mother. You stopped any attempt at having a relationship with her. You no longer wanted her in your life.

Hopefully, your sister was right, your mother would not make the journey to Ireland. You were hoping for it at least. Your life was finally getting together. You were at peace here in Ireland and you wanted it to stay that way.

As soon as you got home, you discarded your shoes by the door, dropped your bags by the couch and fell into it. That day had turned out to be a long one. You loved hearing from your sister but you had regretted to call her at all. Especially with the bit of news she had given you. You should have stayed in bed this morning. Although, if you had—you would not have met your quite handsome neighbor.

Your mind flashed back to his soft hazel eyes, and the lone dimple that appeared under his beard when he smiled. Quite handsome, indeed.

“Damn it!” You cussed. “He’s a criminal. A drug lord and a murderer. You can’t find him attractive.”

You shouldn't and you wouldn't. He was a Kinsella and they were dangerous people. You needed to stay away from him.

Dressed in grey leggings and a large hoodie, you were enjoying your small diner in front of mind-numbing TV. When the red and blue lights flashed through your front windows. The Garda were down your streets. Shortly after they arrived, you heard the heart wrenching wail of a woman down the street. You slowly put your plate down. What had happened? You knew by the sound of that scream that terrible news had just been delivered.

The flashes of blue and red had vanished a while after that. You were lying in bed, hopelessly trying to fall asleep. But your thoughts could not just stop swirling around in your mind. Jimmy and Amanda had lost their son; Jamie Kinsella. The local news had broadcasted the news on their websites. It was brief and they didn’t have much information. But all of them relayed the same information over and over again. Jamie Kinsella had been shot and died on the scene.

You couldn’t help the sadness that taken over you when you read the news. He was barely seventeen. Too young to die. He was just a child. You knew how it felt to lose a parent. It was painful and heartbreaking. In your case, you had time to say goodbye and come to terms with it. It was a loss; it was painful but not in the way the world perceived it. You had known it was coming. And you had already mourned your father before it ever happened. You had expected it.

As for Jamie, it was unexpected. It was so sudden and brutal. How did one prepare for such a death? How did one prepare for the loss of a child? It was not the natural order of things. That was not how it was supposed to go. A parent should never have to bury a child. And yet, it happened.

Why were you affected by it? Yes, it was sad. A young life had just ended but you barely knew him. It shouldn’t bother you that much. It shouldn’t affect you as it did. Your thoughts inevitably drifted to your neighbor next door. How was he feeling? How was he coping with the loss? Was he over at his brother’s to bring his support? Or was he alone in his home dealing with the loss on his own? No one should be alone when dealing with a loss. You knew how terrible it was to receive no comfort. To just stew in your own pain, alone.

Seeing as you couldn’t sleep, you had moved downstairs. You quietly made your way into your kitchen, looking for something that may help you fall asleep. The gold door light of your neighbor was filtering through your large window. Against the dimmed light, you could make out the silhouette of a woman walking away from Michael’s house. It was too dark out for you to be able to tell who it was. You watched as she disappeared behind the brick wall.

It must have been hard on all of them. Especially after they had all celebrated Michael’s release from prison. And now this. The tragic loss of a child. You could only imagine how Jimmy and Amanda were feeling. And Michael—

You took a deep breath and grabbed your keys off of the hook. You stepped out of the front door, in the chill air of the night. After you locked your door, you hugged yourself to keep warm and made your way to your neighbor’s door. You two had just met and this was probably bold of you to assume. But you thought that he might not want to be alone to face this. And maybe you were wrong. Maybe Michael did not mind being alone. That thought alone made you hesitate. Still, you made your way over to his doorstep. Your fist hovered for a few seconds. Hesitating. With another deep breath, you knocked three times. And you waited. You were growing more nervous as the seconds went by. You hugged yourself tighter. The door swung open revealing Michael behind it.

“Michael, hey.” You greeted him. Shoulders slumped, eyes red from crying, Michael looked tired and pained. Although, he tried and failed to hide it all behind a mask. “I saw the Guards earlier—” You went for the direct approach. And mentally slapped yourself for it.

“So, ya know about Jamie?” He nodded solemnly.

“I do.” You nodded. “I just came to see if you were—how you were doing?”

He scoffed, his sorrowful gaze dropping to the ground. “Not great.”

You puffed out a shaky breath. “I don’t mean to intrude or—” You trailed off. “Do you want to be alone?” You questioned him. His eyes snapped up at you. His brows scrunched up in confusion. His eyes roamed your face, studying you. “I know what it’s like to be alone when you lose someone.” You blurted out. “It’s not great but—if you’d rather be alone—” You trailed off.

His sorrowful eyes scanned you over. Studying you. You had surprised him. He clearly did not expect his neighbor that he barely met, to come to him in the middle of the night. Especially not to offer him comfort. Comfort that he desperately needed. Birdy had told him that he needed to be there for Jimmy and Amanda. Amanda had asked him what were Jamie’s last moments like. And for all of them, he had shown a brave face. He had stood strong but he was there too. He had seen it all. And no one had stopped to ask how he was feeling—except for you. His gaze roamed your face, he noticed how you tightened your arms around your middle.

He cleared his throat. “D’ya—want to come in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. Michael stepped to the side to let you in.

So much for staying away from the criminal next door. There you were, in his home in the middle of night. The layout of his home was almost identical to yours for the most part, kitchen by the front door. The hallway that led to the living room. You left your slippers by the front door and followed Michael to the sitting room. He sat down in his couch as you stood by the doorway. Putting a semblance of distance between you.

“I was there,” Michael said after a few minutes of silence.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words before your eyes fell shut. Pained to hear that he had seen it happened. He looked up at you, grief etched into every line of his face.

“He was laughin’, messin’ around and then—he was just gone.” Michael said quietly. His face crumpled as a set of fresh tears fell down his face. His hand quickly wiped away any traces of them.

“I’m so sorry you had to see it.” You said quietly, tears pressing against your eyes.

“He was just a boy.” Michael continued quietly.

“I know.” You were itching to reach over and just pull him into your embrace. Would he even allow it?

“Birdy told me I need to be there for Jimmy and Amanda.” His voice cracked. “Losin’ their son and everythin’. But—I—I lost him too.” He buried his face into his hands. “Jamie was—” His voice muffled by his hands. You waited for him to finish his thought but it never came as a sob racked his body.

You quickly wiped away a stray tear from your face. You moved to go sit down next to him. Your arms slowly and gently wrapped around him. And pulled him into you. His hands went up to your forearm, around his neck. You leaned your cheek on the top of his head. Whispering words of comfort as he wept. You probably had overstepped boundaries here. But what were you supposed to do? This was the only way you knew how to bring comfort.

Your ran your hand on his back in a soothing circle. When he seemed to have calm down, he pulled gently away from you. Your arms fell back at your sides. He ran his hand over his face, erasing the tears that had fallen there.

“Sorry.” He apologized as he did so.

“Don’t be.” You shook your head. “It’s okay.” You started to run your hands on your thighs, in a nervous manner. “I just—I’m so sorry about Jamie.”

Michael nodded solemnly; his eyes red from crying. He rested his hand on your knee. Your breath hitched in your throat at the gesture. Your eyes went to his face. He was staring at you, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Thank you,” He said. “For askin’ and for—bein’ here.”

“Ah.” You nodded, smiling softly. “I have no merit. I was just doing my neighborly duties.”

“Is that it?” Michael retorted his voice still thick with emotions. He cleared his throat. “Is that why you here?”

You shrugged. “Like I said, I know how it feels like to lose someone and have no one there with you; to comfort you. When you desperately need it. It feels very—”

“Lonely.” He finished for you.

“Yeah.” You stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. “And should you need a shoulder to cry on again—I’m right next door. Whenever you need.”

He squeezed your knee gently, as tears welled back up in his eyes. A warm smile made its way onto his face. You had meant it. You probably shouldn’t have offered but you couldn’t help yourself. Michael Kinsella had looked so broken and so pained; it was hard to not offer comfort when he needed it. You knew too well, what it was like to not receive any when you needed it. And Michael needed it.

You just really hoped you had helped a little.

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#michael kinsella fic #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x fem! reader #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella #comfort #kin rte #kin amc #kin bbc

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 month

Text

Waiting for the Storm

Prologue

Series Masterlist Chapter 1

pairing: Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: "If you spend your whole life waiting for the storm, you'll never enjoy the sunshine." -Morris West

When Michael's release day finally arrives, he isn't too optimistic about his future. The most he's hoping for is a relationship with his daughter and a new path forward. The world, however, has bigger plans for him after he meets a timid, yet lovely, children's book illustrator who has more in common with him than it seems.

warnings: swearing, emotional and physical abuse (very brief descriptions here but these will be recurring themes in this story), descriptions of prison, descriptions of family loss

a/n: Ahhhh! My first Mikey story because I FINALLY had inspiration. I am way too excited about this WIP so I really hope this lil tidbit gets y'all intrigued! The general vibes will be fluff and hurt/comfort because Mikey deserves to be comforted. I hope you all enjoy!

w/c: ~900

There was something comforting about the rain. Peaceful and cleansing. Water vapor rising unburdened by the impurities of the ground to the heavens and falling back again like a gift, washing away the sins below with every splattering drop.

When she was a child, the other girls bemoaned their hometown’s climate and constant precipitation. “Rain brings noise, and floods, and mud, and worms!” They’d lament to her after every storm. She never knew how to tell them that none of those consequences bothered her.

Floods were rare, and more a symptom of poor drainage systems than the rain itself. Mud was mostly avoidable, and easy to wash away. Worms were necessary for composting and agriculture, not to mention completely harmless.

The noise, well, this she understood. When she was a toddler the loud smashes of thunder and cracks of lightning terrified her too—scaring her under the covers night after night, hands clamped over her ears. But then her life became less quiet, and the storms were less loud by comparison.

See when your home is full of screaming, and crying, and the echoing slap of skin hitting skin, thunder is a lot more appealing. It’s easy to focus on. If you try hard enough, you can let it drown out the sounds of your father putting another hole in the drywall, of your mother’s car pulling out of the driveway for the last time—the tires screeching as she leaves you behind.

The spattering of rain against the windows became her anchor whenever the universe was kind enough to offer it to her. When her father rages around the house, destroying every trace of his estranged wife, she would lay in bed—eyes glued to the droplets splashing against the glass.

On the especially bad nights, she pictured a safe haven: a set of cliffs, composed of worn shale threaded with lush green grass. She could feel the cracked sandstone through the fabric of her pajamas as she sat along the edge. Fat raindrops drenched her scalp, trailing down her face, over her heavy eyelids and exposed collar bone. The ground beneath her grew increasingly damp, each swirl of water wafting the scent of petrichor towards her nose. Somewhere in the distance, waves crested over rocks—the sound getting lost in the patter of the rain.

As she aged, she continued to dream of this place. Throughout her tumultuous teenage years and every disagreement with her father. Each and every time she felt lonely after moving to another, sunnier, state for her bachelor’s degree.

The image was especially helpful as her relationship with Xavier turned sour. Every insult, threat, and smack fading into the drum of raindrops on rock. She’d lay awake at night, bruises blooming on her limbs, imagining the rain.

And it was the steady pounding of droplets on the roof that gave her the courage to pack her things and leave. Trekking across town, over multiple bus routes, until she stood her friendly coworker’s doorstep—soaked to the bone, and more unhurried than she’d been in years, all thanks to the rain.

Michael had never minded the rain. A symptom of living in Dublin his whole life, he supposed. When every other day brought a shield of clouds over the sun, you adjusted or you fled to brighter pastures.

He sure as hell didn’t mind it when he was in his cell, listening to the jeers and yelling of the other prisoners night after fucking night. The thrum of raindrops against cinderblock were a welcomed static noise.

At first, he was grateful for the solitude of his protected status. It gave him time to grieve the loss of his wife, to repent for his hand in her death. His stint in prison meant he was temporarily relieved of the burden placed on his shoulders by the family and it gave him time to grow and reflect.

But it also meant losing Anna, grieving and spiraling on his own for eight excruciating years, and being closer to his father than he’d ever wanted to be again. It meant that he’d lost everything that mattered, because he’d been too careless to protect it.

He missed freedom. He missed his family, his daughter more than anything. He missed fresh air, and hot water, and home cooked meals. He wanted to feel the wind against his chest, the rain on his face, anything but the stale breath of hundreds of other prisoners and the bite of the cool cement against his back as he drifted off.

His release day approached slowly, at first. But after the first few years, the days began to blend together. Seasons rolling by like a strip of film in a projector, bursts of green coming and going as the plants in the sparse outdoor yard sprouted and died. The tunnel was quickly ending, but he wasn’t yet sure if there was light at the end of it.

Regardless of what lay waiting for him outside of those gates, he’d regain his autonomy, he’d try to see Anna, he’d try to move forward.

This is what the rain sounded like, when it pounded against the foundation of the prison. It sounded like liberty, like family, like achievable peace.

If he could feel the rain again, he could keep going. And he would.

#michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #mikey kinsella #kin rte #kin amc #kin bbc #charlie cox #mk #my writing #WFTS

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yarrystyleeza · 6 months

Note

🔪🍄🥤

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

Bella Bella Bella, aka @bellaxgiornata (I'm her n1 fan forever), I won't recommend one fic but her whole works are absolutely awesome.

My favorites are safe haven (Michael Kinsella x fem reader) and all these years (Matt Murdock x fem reader) —but overall, I love all her works, she's really awesome and talented! 💘

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Can I give a head canon about my fic pairing? Oh ho I think I can hehe. 👉🏻👈🏻

Madilyn (oc) always fixes Matt's hair and tie, her love language is acts of service, physical touch and words of affirmation. She also loves pulling his cheeks. And Matt takes off his glasses when she's around because he feels safe with her (and she loves his eyes).

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Recently I was looking up charges and sentences, not that much of weird, but also a couple military related stuff for my fic (is that a spoiler? honestly idk) and how to correctly pronounce 'penne' the pasta.

Thanks for the ask anon, really enjoyed it! 💘

#Yomna's ask box #yarrystyleeza #fic writing #bellaxgiornata

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shiorimakibawrites · 7 months

Text

A Heated Discussion (Kinktober Day 8)

Personal Masterlist for Kinktober 2023

FlightlessAngelWing's prompt list can be found here.

Day 8 - Rough Sex

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x AFAB! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1,267

Warning(s): reference to a mugging with threat of knife violence, rough kisses, spanking, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, clitoral stimulation, overstimulation, reference to possibility of voyeurism, dirty talk

Tagging: @flightlessangelwings-updates

A Heated Discussion

You weren’t fighting. Fighting implied disagreement. This wasn’t a disagreement per se. Michael wanted you alive and safe. Well as safe as you could be dating him. You also wanted those things. But how to accomplish those lofty goals . . . well . . . you were still working out the details.

One of those details – namely how late was too late to call him to walk you home after work – had resulted in this . . . not an argument . . . a heated discussion. Probably because you had walked through the front door without your purse and shaking from having a knife waved in your face. With Michael already worried because it was well past time for you to be home and you hadn’t been answering your phone . . . because it had been dead and now it was stolen . . .

To say he was unhappy about these events was a bit of an understatement.

Having Michael crowd you against the kitchen table, boxing you in with his arms, his eyes dark with restrained fury, speaking in a low but intense voice, should have been frightening. Especially since you knew perfectly well what this man was capable of. Key words being should have been. Because the feeling coursing through you wasn’t fear.

Not with thoughts like ‘Wow, he is so pretty when he’s angry’ running around your head. Not that Michael isn’t always pretty. Because he is. But there was something about his angry face that was making your cunt ache with need. It was rather distracting.

“Are ya even listenin’ to me?” he demanded, sounding frustrated. Which was . . . fair.

You weren’t sure when the switch was flipped. One minute, you were having your heated discussion. The next thing you knew, Michael was kissing you. Rough kisses that involved just as much teeth as they did lips and tongue. Kisses that soon had you frantically trying to get his pants off. You had partially succeeded. You had managed to unbuckle his belt as well as unbutton and unzip the pants. You were in the process of yanking them down when he lifted you into the air and deposited you onto the table.

He tried to slotted himself between your legs but ended growling into your mouth when the tightness of your skirt restricted the spread of your legs. He tore his mouth away from yours with a frustrated growl.

“Lift ya hips for me, pet,” he ordered, fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt. You never noticed him doing it but the closures had been undone. So when you eagerly lifted your hips, he could immediately start pulling down your skirt. Along with your panties.

You expected him to do the same to his own jeans and boxers but he only pushed them down far enough to free his cock. His hands gripped your hips and yanked you over to the edge. The movement was so abrupt that you barely managed to remain upright. Michael slotted himself between your legs, using his body to spread them apart until he was pressing his groin against yours. Not trying to come inside you – just grinding his hard cock on your wet cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet, pet,” he rumbled, moving one hand away from your hip. You gasped as that hand smacked your ass. Not especially hard but it only fueled the fire between your legs. Something that did not go unnoticed by Michael.

“And that got ya even wetter,” he observed, grinding against you. “Like it when someone spanks yer arse, pet?”

You felt your face flush. When you didn’t answer, he smacked your ass again, a little harder this time. Which only made you let out a strangled moan. It stung but it also felt good.

“Answer me, pet,” he said, a note of warning in his voice.

“Y-yes,” you manage to pant out and are rewarded with another smack. His hand rubbed the skin, soothing the tingling skin. That it also allowed him to grope your ass was just a bonus.

Then you felt the head of his cock prodding your entrance. But he didn’t come inside you. Just pressed the tip to your entrance. You whined and bucked up, trying to get him actually in you. Or rather you wanted to do that but his hands were back on your hips almost immediately. He used the hold to press your hips back down onto the table. They stayed there, keeping you right where he wanted you.

“Mikey, please . . .” you whined, trying to squirm out of his hold. But it was useless. He was too strong.

“Ya want me to fuck ya, pet?” Michael asked, pushing himself in. But only a little. Barely far enough get the head of his cock inside you. Just enough to give your aching cunt a taste of what it wanted. What it needed.

You whimpered. “Mikey-”

“Then promise me that ya’ll call me when ya get off after dark. Promise me no more walking alone at night,” he demanded.

“But what if” you started to protest but cut yourself off when he started to withdraw his cock. “Okay, okay! I promise! I promise! I – fuck!”

With one powerful thrust, Michael had pushed the rest of his cock inside you. All the way without letting your cunt adjust along the way or the usual foreplay of fingering or eating you out. It didn’t hurt but there was a sharpness that told you that you were going to sore later.

But that was Future You’s problem. Present You was deliciously full, moaning at the sensation of your cunt fluttering and twitching around his cock. But you needed more. You wrapped your legs around his hips and dug your heels into his bare ass. You both groaned as this action pushed him little bit deeper inside you.

“Move!” you ordered.

Michael did as he was told. No slow build up this time, he was immediately thrusting at a hard and fast pace. You rose your hips to meet each thrust as best as you could. Your hands clung tightly to his shoulders, your nails biting into his shirt.

Your fear from the mugging on the way home. The stress of arguing with Michael. The knowledge that anyone who walked into the backyard would be able to see Michael fucking you on the kitchen table. All of it faded into the background.

All that mattered was Michael. The look of fierce pleasure on his face. The taste of his skin as your mouth kissed and nipped at his neck. The sound of his loud grunts and quieter moans as he fucked you. The way his cock felt, how perfectly he fit inside you, how deep each hard thrust was. How with a slight shift of his hips he started hitting that spongey place inside you that had the pleasure building and building. Until suddenly the dam burst and you were screaming his name.

You fell back on the table, unable to keep yourself upright. Michael barely missed a beat, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. The waves had almost abated when his hand abandoned your hip in favor of toying with your clit. You cried out and soon found yourself falling over the edge of your second climax. That soon on the heels of your first, the pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. You couldn’t stop sobbing his name as his thrusts began to falter, until with a deep groan, he thrust in one last time and came.

#fawktober2023 #kinktober 2023 #kin amc #kin rte #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #fan fic #fan fiction

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