#michael kinsella x reader smut

[pastafossa]

"Don't Let Go" (Michael Kinsella x F!Reader, Fic)

Time for Day Six of the Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! I chose the angst prompt, "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." with Michael Kinsella! I originally planned to use all three prompts (the above plus 'love bites' and 'spread your legs for me') but this one just sorta worked beautifully focusing on the angst prompt alone, despite my plan. May come back and do a sequel with the other two prompts eventually. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! And off we go!

Ship: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Warnings for this chapter: angst, blood, injury care, mention of reader briefly held hostage, language, mention of domestic violence, some shouting and breaking things (Michael is very angry here, just not at you).

His hands shaking, Michael cleaned you up in the bathroom.

You weren’t sure if that tremor was due to fear, or… or exhaustion, maybe. He probably hadn’t gotten much sleep the past two nights while you’d been missing, held captive in an abandoned building by a group of men who’d been looking to blackmail the Kinsella family. It hadn’t worked out well for them based on the dead bodies you’d seen when Michael had grimly carried you out past his brothers, his hands stained heavily with blood and smelling of fresh gunpowder. 

It was those hands—the very same hands that had so recently dealt out death and destruction—that now tended gently to your wounds. With barely a word save a soothing murmur whenever you winced, he washed away the crusted grime and dried blood from your body in the shower before settling you down on the side of the porcelain tub. Once you were comfortable, he set about cleaning out and bandaging the bloody cuts on your hands and face, the torn skin on your wrists left by the handcuffs, and the burns along your forearm from the cigarettes one man had decided to put out against your skin when you’d spat in his face.

With every injury Michael cared for, however, the more his hands shook, his breathing growing sharper, hissing out from between his clenched teeth. 

No. This wasn’t fear or exhaustion making his hands shake, you realized. This was… 

He rose from where he’d been kneeling in front of you. He stared down at you for a moment with those dark eyes of his, taking all of you in for the first time since bringing you back home—taking in every last swollen bruise and vicious cut, every bandage and mark of pain left behind by those who had wanted to harm his family by using you against him.

…This was rage.

He snatched up the first aid kit, turned, and hurled it with a furious scream. It shattered against the wall in the hall, its impact leaving a crumbling hole in the drywall. Gauze and ointment, bottles of pills and splinters of plastic scattered left and right.

“Michael,” you said weakly. “I’m ok now.”

It was as if he hadn’t even heard you. “I’m goin’ ta find the rest of ‘em and kill 'em for this!” he snarled savagely, his accent even thicker in his fury. Gone was the gentle lilt, the familiar softness he always seemed to gain in his voice when he spoke to you or about you. Now he was every inch the dangerous Kinsella that so many feared, though not you. Never you. Even now you weren’t afraid, despite the way he whirled and paced wildly in front of you, as if looking for the very same ones who’d so recently hurt you. This was rage in your defense, and that made all the difference. 

“Michael—”

“They think I can’t find ‘em?” he spat. “They really think I can’t? I’ll hunt down every last fuckin’ one’a them filthy little cunts fer puttin’ their hands on ya! By the time I’m done wit’ em, there won’t be enough’a their fuckin’ bodies left for their mams to bloody bury!”

This time it was the drinking glass on the counter that paid the price. It flew out into the hall to shatter violently against the wall just beside the mark left by the first aid kit. Glittering shards of glass, some pieces still damp, joined the rest of the debris on the floor.  

“Michael.” You heaved yourself upright on shaky legs, wobbly as a newborn fawn. And it hurt, it hurt to move, cuts tugging, body aching. You tried to blink the dampness away in your eyes, not now, come on. “It’s alright—” “Don’t tell me it’s alright when they hurt ya!” he roared. But the moment he swung back around to face you and saw you on your feet, he spat out a curse. He stormed across the bathroom before you could take more than a step. “Daft woman, sit your arse back down before ya fall over!”

One hand still braced against the wall, you lifted your other arm quickly towards him. He lurched to a stop before he could touch you, an expression of horror twisting across his face, all furrowed brow and parted lips. Only then did you realize what that must have looked like to him—your arm held up to fend him off, trying to stop him from coming towards you, tears in your eyes as if you were… as if you were terrified of him and what he had been doing. 

Gone in a breath was the rage, the fury, replaced by a gutted, heartbroken grief. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have said he was about to cry, too. “Ya didn’t think I was goin’ to…” he whispered, swallowing hard and taking a cautious step back. “I… I swear, pet, I would never—” 

“God, no, Mikey. I know you weren’t going to hit me,” you croaked, trying to put your arm out again in a more welcoming way, and if your breath started to hitch, tears now beginning to roll down your cheeks despite your best efforts, well, surely you were entitled to that, because it had been a horrible few days and the longer you stood here, the more you began to shiver and hurt. It had only been a few minutes since you’d been in his arms, but your body clearly wasn’t ready yet for even that much separation. Emotion welled up inside you like a dark wave, endless, bottomless. You were terrified you’d drown beneath it without him to help you keep your head above water. “I was trying to… could you come over here and… and hold me? I just need…”

He caught you just as the first choked sob tore its way out of your throat, the strength of the sound so violent, so raw it almost frightened you. One of his arms quickly wound around your waist, pulling you in against the comforting, familiar warmth and strength of his chest. His other hand rose to gently cradle the back of your head, bringing your head down so you could bury it against his neck. He rumbled low, soothing notes into your ear, tender words of comfort as you desperately tried to breathe in the scent of whiskey and leather, gun oil and rain between your heaving breaths and broken sobs.

“There ya go. Shh, I’ve got ya now, pet,” he whispered, laying his cheek against your hair. He shifted the two of you carefully across the floor until he could ease himself down on top of the toilet seat, pulling you slowly into his lap. You went without a fight, clinging to him, the fabric of his shirt held tight between your fists as if it were your lifeline. “I’ve got ya now. Let it all out. I’m here, darlin’. Yer safe with me.” 

“Don’t let go,” you choked out, “Please.” “Never. I promise.”

[bellaxgiornata]

First Thing in the Morning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How'd ya sleep, pet,” he murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Mikey,” you breathed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ Michael ,” you moaned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My turn now, yeah?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Better?” you asked him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuckin’ hell, love, I’m–”

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

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

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

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

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi's Kinktober 2023

Day 3: Cockwarming

October 18th, 2023

Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader (use of "good girl")

Summary: Matt is always working, but you need him. So, he gives you what you want. Sort of. But not really.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ MINORS DNI), cockwarming, praise, use of "good girl", teasing, slight Dom!Matt, not proofread (I sense a theme here)

Word Count: ~970

A/n: This is a drabble again, and I am so sorry for not posting it yesterday. I finished it and then I fell asleep. Oops. I caught a cold and I am so tired, so I hope this can live up to expectations once again.

Matt’s working. 

He’s always working. Either on a case or out on the streets as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The protector. There are only a handful of moments when you have him all to yourself, and sometimes you have to beg for it and hope he caves. 

Just like tonight. 

He’s been working again. He’s been working ever since he came home. He told you he would have to go out at some point that night, possibly after you’ve gone to bed. Maybe he’ll cuddle you, but that is never certain. You can hope, you can pray, but you can never be a hundred percent certain that he will be there.

But you love him. 

You don’t care that he is gone a lot because when he isn’t, he makes up for the time he missed. He treats you like you are an angel on earth. That’s what he calls you often enough.

Angel. Sweetheart. Divine. Heavenly. He loves you more than you’ve ever been loved. He would go to the ends of the earth with you. But you can’t make him stop something that sustains him. You understand. You really do.

He’s doing something to help people, and if you have to spend a night or two alone, so be it. Not everyone could do what he does, and that’s as much a blessing as it is a curse. He has to do it or he will lose himself. Maybe it’s an addiction, maybe it’s unhealthy, but you love him and your love has survived much worse than that.

Still, there are times where your needs become a little too hard to ignore, and most of the time, they take over.

Sometimes, the little voice in your head gets stronger than your common sense, and you become needy. You become so needy, Matt can’t tell you no because deep down, he loves it when you get needy.

It’s the easiest way to distract him, being needy. It’s the easiest way to get him to pay attention to you, yet at the same time, it makes him just want to take care of you in ways he too often neglects. 

Matt has been sitting at the dining table, typing away on his laptop as he listens to witness testimonies on his latest case for what feels like an eternity.

As the time dragged on, you eventually started shifting on the couch, watching him, trying to get his attention. When that didn’t work, you started sighing. It took about thirty minutes until his low voice rang out, “Come here.”

And that is how you ended up here. Part of you regrets it now that you have been teasing him so relentlessly, but you couldn’t stop. You had to do it. This is your compulsion.

His hard cock is nestled deep within your slick folds as he’s got you seated on his lap, chest to chest. He’s so deep inside of you, you can feel him in your very soul.

Your walls are so tight around his girth, you can feel his veins pulsating every time you try to shift your position. You’re clinging onto him for dear life, your head on his shoulder, and he just types. He types away on his laptop as if he isn’t buried completely inside of your wet cunt. The clicking sound is slowly starting to drive you crazy. It’s his moans you want, the sound of skin slapping against skin, not whatever this is.  

It’s torture, to say the least.

“If you’re so needy, you can keep me company while I finish this report,” he said to you after he called you over to him. 

You thought nothing of it until he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. 

“You can keep my cock nice and warm for me until I’m done, and then I’ll fuck you, baby. I promise. I just have to do a little more work.”

You shouldn’t have pushed him, but God, you love what he feels like inside of you. 

You shift again. His left hand flies to your hip, stopping you. “Don’t move,” he says. “I’m not done yet.”

Your moan is muffled through his dress shirt. “Please, Matthew,” you whine. 

“No.”

Oh, he’s cruel. He’s so, so cruel. 

He knows exactly what he’s doing, too. His rough hands alternating between gently resting on your thighs, stroking up and down, and his nose burying in your hair to breathe in your scent—and every time your clit bumps against his pelvis, you can’t help but moan and seek more friction. But when you do, when you move to seek friction, he stops you time and time again because, “I’m not done yet.”

When will he be done? 

Every time he breathes, every time he talks, his cock moves just a little deeper. He presses against that sweet spot inside of you entirely unintentional, but he knows instantly what effect it has on you.

At this point, you’re sure he’s teasing you. He’s doing this on purpose. Is he even working? You’re sure he can’t be. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers into your hair. “And so good for me. I’m almost done.”

“You’ve said that before,” your voice is hoarse, breathless, on the edge of breaking. 

Matt only chuckles, tilting your head back to give you the softest of kisses. Suddenly, you’re not so mad anymore. The pleasure that simple kiss sends straight to your already dripping cunt, coating his cock in even more wetness and allowing him more leeway as he shifts in his seat now, forcing you closer together—it is inhuman. You moan into his mouth, and the kiss turns heated. 

You are so needy. Maybe he is getting desperate too. He’s kissing you back a bit more forcefully, and you’re sure he’s about to lose it. But then he stops, pulls back, and focuses back on the Braille on his keyboard.

“Be good,” he tells you. 

You try. You really are trying, but it seems nearly impossible. You still bury your face back in the crook of his neck, and you try to breathe. 

The rubberband in the pit of your stomach tightens with every passing second, threatening to snap. Your nerves are on fire. Your muscles are sore. You can feel yourself tensing up, trying not to move, trying not to make a sound…The relief is too far away, still.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

You’re done for. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, and the lewdest moan escapes your lips. 

“You like that?” Matt asks. “Being called a good girl? My good girl? Is that it?”

He shifts again. It’s better than nothing. It soothes the ache in your core, but as soon as he stops, it multiplies. 

“Yes,” you breathe. 

“Then be good just a little longer for me, sweetheart, and I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

You’re going to hold him to that. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @ravenclaw617 @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch

Also tagging: @blackshadowswriter @1988-fiend

[shiorimakibawrites]

Day 7 - Sundress

Day 7 - Sundress Prompt: 7: Nothing Underneath Character: Michael Kinsella Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader Word Count: 715 Warnings: Referenced oral sex (f receiving), referenced p in v sex, referenced phone sex, fingering, clothed sex, horny thoughts, dirty talk, glimpse of Dom! Mikey Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @lulukings92, @yarrystyleeza, @bluerobin35, @bellaxgiornata, @shouldbestudying41 Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Sundress

You were considering what to wear today. The weatherman had predicted a hot day with no rain. Something of a rarity in Ireland. Maybe you should wear your sundress? You hadn’t gotten the chance yet. Summers here just weren’t as hot as back home. Which was a shame. It was a nice dress with a cute floral print. You looked good in it . . .

And your boyfriend was due back today. Maybe it was fate then, that today was sundress weather. You could wear your pretty dress. See if Michael appreciated the way it looked on you as much as you did. And if he liked it just as much decorating the bedroom floor . . .

You hoped so. Michael had been gone for two weeks. Fourteen days since he had last kissed you. Since those big warm hands had touched you. Since you last heard that little moan he always made when he was fully sheathed inside you . . .

You shuddered, feeling the familiar rush of heat at the memory.

It really had been too long. Those spicy phone calls you had shared had helped. You had enjoyed them immensely. But as pleasurable as they were . . . it just wasn’t the same as having Michael home. You missed having his body against yours, under your hands. You missed his scent - a combination of old paper, leather, good Irish whiskey, and something that you could only describe as Michael - in your nose. The phone didn’t quite capture the experience of hearing his brogue thicken in your ear or could capture all of those soft sounds of pleasure he made . . .

The mind-blowing sex wasn’t the only reason that you missed Michael. Far from it. You always preferred it when he was here, safe and happy in the home you shared. The home you were creating together.

But there was no escaping that you were feeling rather feral this morning. Almost overwhelmed with need. You needed him to fuck you. With his tongue, his fingers, or his cock didn’t matter. Where didn’t matter. You just needed him.

Not even home yet and your panties were already soaked. After you take the edge off, you should change into fresh ones . . . Then an idea came to you. A wicked idea. But one that was likely to make your boyfriend just as feral as you . . .

&&

Your plan was complete success.

Michael loved your dress. You could see it in the way he looked you up and down, how his eyes lingered on your curves. In how eager he was to kiss you. An eagerness that turned heated when his hands gripped your hips and the thin cotton of the dress revealed your real surprise for him.

“No knickers, pet?” he rumbled into your neck.

“None,” you said and gasped when a hand snaked under that dress to touch your eager cunt. A low moan rumbled out of his chest like a roll of thunder. Deep, resonate, something you felt as much as you heard.

“Yer soaked,” he said, the hand still in your hip tightening. “All this for me?”

“All for you,” you confirmed. “Thought about you when I - ahh!”

Your cunt clenched around the finger slidding inside you. It felt so good. His fingers were thicker and longer than yours . . . the pressure of his thumb against your clit had you letting out a warbling moan.

“When ya what, pet?” Michael murmured, curling his finger and making those flashes of white dance across your vision. “Were ya were touching yourself?”

“Y-yes,” you managed to pant out, hands digging to his shoulder.

He made a thoughtful hum, working in second finger into you. “Imagin’ something like this pet? On my knees eatin’ ya out? Fuckin’ ya into this wall until ya come screamin’ on my cock?”

Another warbling moan was your only answer but apparently not satisfactory. His thumb halted its movements on your clit, stalling your building orgasm right in its tracks. “Answer me, pet. Which do ya do want?”

Michael emphasized that by curling those fingers buried inside you, pressing into that spot inside you. You moaned, squirming against him but his body kept your pinned against the wall. “Tell me.”

“All of it!” You cried out.

You felt his smirk against your neck. “All of it? Well, then, I best get started then.”

[siampie]

Finding You||Chapter 7

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, and lots of fluff.

A/N: Enjoy this chapter, you guys. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed, greatly advised and strongly appreciate.

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

The place was bustling with people. The waiters crossed paths as they brought orders to the different tables. While people chattered and laughed, around drinks and foods. You rubbed your hands nervously on your thighs. Michael was sitting across from you, his chin in the palm of his hand, a small smile on his lips, making that small dimple on his right cheek visible.

You felt nervous, sitting there, in front of him. It had been a long time since you last had been on a date. If ever truly. You had been taken out by men before but it never went really far. It had never really felt right. No sparks. No chemistry. With Michael, however, things seemed to be much more different. You didn’t know how to explain it, you weren’t sure if it was due to chemistry. Or simply because you were still thinking about the make out session, you both had that same morning. The sexual tension between you was rising by the minute, overwhelming. Only increasing your desire further.

You brought your pint to your lips, the foam sticking to your upper lip once you had a sip. You wiped it off quickly with a small laugh.

“So—did you know about that bar before tonight?” You questioned him.

Michael looked around him quickly, letting out a sigh. “This bar is fairly new, never been here before,” his eyes were back on you. “You?”

“Once,” you nodded. “With some coworkers. It was nice. I just—don’t really go out.”

“Ah,” Michael nodded. “No one had caught yer fancy, then?”

You snorted, “not really. Although, I met this guy recently.”

“Ya have?”

“He’s quite handsome,” you nodded with a smile. “And he also happened to be my neighbor.” He chuckled, his eyes staring at you with an intense fondness. “What about you? Has anyone caught your fancy?”

“Well, I met this beautiful woman,” he teased. You looked away quickly, scrunching up your nose, flustered by the compliment. “Happened to be a really good neighbor, too.”

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. Your eyes dropped to your pint. Both of you had been less awkward around each other, less anxious.

You both had walked to the bar together. You had been worried that those close to Caolan Moore would want revenge for his death. That they would come after Michael. Which the latter had confirmed. They eventually would, he said. But the bounty Eamon Cunnigham had put on his head, was fairly new. And the word had not widely spread yet. Plus, he assured you that no one was tailing him. He had made sure of it before he came to get you.

You had noticed the vest under his sweater. Or the way he chose the booth near the back exit in case you needed to run. You noticed the way; he sat facing the door to make sure he had a full view in case of trouble.

“How long have ya been in Dublin?” Michael’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Almost eight months,” you nodded. “I needed a fresh start; you know. Away from family. Funny how that turned out.”

“Why did ya want to get away from yer family?” Michael asked you.

“I didn’t get a say in many things regarding my own life growing up,” you started to explain. “It was always the others first, and I always came last. As an afterthought, almost. A lot of choices, responsibilities were put on me,” your fingers tapped against your glass, nervously. You brought your gaze up to his. “Moving across the pond is my choice. No one put it on me, I got to choose this time. It feels like—”

“Ya have control back,” he finished for you.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That,” you scoffed. “It feels a little daunting at times. But I'm getting the hang of it, I hope.”

“Yeah, I see what ya mean,” Michael exhaled deeply.

“I suppose you do,” you agreed. “I don’t think this is the life you would have chosen for yourself if you could.”

His lips pulled down into a frown. He shifted on his chair, slightly, “No, honestly—I—I don’t know.”

Sensing his discomfort, you bravely reached for his hand. Interlacing your fingers with his, you offered him a small smile, “well, I’m glad some of our choices led us here. Tonight.”

“Yeah, me too,” he offered you a small smile in return.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, his eyes dropped to your lips at the gesture. The memory of your kissing still fresh in your mind. You had not stopped thinking about it since that morning. Or even since the beginning of your date. And the intensity of his gaze did nothing to stop those thoughts from flooding your mind.

You wanted to do more than just kissing him. The growing desire in the pit of your stomach kept on growing. Burning in such a way, it had not before. You were craving for his touch, for his lips to meet yours. In every way.  

Properly turned on, you brought your pint to your lips, once again. Drinking the last drops of your beer.

“Do ya wanna another one?” Michael asked you.

You shook your head, “I think I’m ready to go home. If you are.”

Something flickered across his face, some emotions that passed so quickly, you barely had a chance to catch the change.

He cleared his throat, “If this is what ya want, yeah?” He dawned the rest of his drink.

“I mean we could keep this up at my place,” you suggested. “I have some beers in the fridge—I think. And it’d be safer for you, I suppose.”

His fingers twitched around yours. A smirk graced his lips, “yer worried about me, Pet?”

“A little, yeah,” you confirmed. “I wouldn’t want you to get clipped on my behalf.”

“Is that the only reason?” He teased you.

Your cheeks reddened, not only out of embarrassment. Because Michael had seen right through you. But you also wanted to see where this could go. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted the same as you.

“It’s one of the reasons.”

Michael’s eyes snapped up to yours. His unwavering gaze never leaving yours as he dawned the last of his drink. You took in a shaky breath, your arousal only growing deeper under his gaze.

In the backseat of the taxi, you both sat in comfortable silence. Your hand in his, resting against his thigh. Your mind drifting to what you would do to him, once you’d reached your destination. All the while, wondering if he was thinking about the same things as you.

“I hope ya had a good time,” he said, squeezing your hand gently.

“Yes, I did,” you smiled at him. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date with a handsome fella.” You teased, and he chuckled, looking away nervously. Almost as though he was flustered. “Plus, the night isn’t over yet.”

Michael turned back to you, and brought up his hand, gently cupping your jaw. He leaned into you, his mouth pressed against yours. Your fingers clasped around his wrist, chasing his lips as he started to pull away. His thumb brushed along your cheek, he brought down his forehead against yours.

You pushed open your door, it banged against the wall behind it. Michael's lips was latched onto yours as you stumbled through the door. You blindly threw your house keys onto the counter. Michael pushed the door behind him with his foot.

His tongue slid past your lips, your fingers dug into the thick fabric of his jacket. His hand gripped your hips tightly, both taking a couple of steps backwards. Your jackets were shed as you climbed up the stairs, his vest thrown somewhere in the hallway that led to your room.

“Oof,” you let out as you both landed on your bed, Michael on top of you.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, you giggled.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “Just don’t stop. Please.”

Michael obliged. He dove back for your lips. Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt. He pushed himself off of you to take it off. You sat up taking off your own shirt.

Your hand slid up his torso, skin against skin. He leaned into you, his lips smashing against yours. The wet heat kept building between your thighs. His mouth broke away from yours, as his lips travelled down your throat, down to your chest.

His fingers pulled down the straps of your bra, his lips leaving open kisses on your collarbone. His hand snaked around your torso to unclasped your bra. You slightly lifted your torso to give him better access. And soon, your bra joined your shirts on the floor.

His lips latched onto your nipple, and you let out a throaty moan at the wet heat of his tongue toying with your nipple. One of his hands cupped your other breast, kneading the flesh. Your fingers raked through his thick dark hair. Your hips twitching underneath him, looking for some sort of friction.

“Shit, Michael,” you hissed out pleasurably.

His lips left your breast, leaving a long fiery trail as they travelled down to your navel. Your stomach tightened in anticipation, as his hands came to unfasten the button of your jeans. Michael pulled down your jeans, and tossed them on the floor. His hands rubbed along your thighs, you bit down your bottom lip as you looked down at him.

His thick beard scratched against the soft skin of your thigh, as he laid a couple of kisses there. His hands went up to the waistband of your underwear. His eyes locked onto yours, a silence question to which you answered wordlessly, with a nod. He dragged the piece of clothing down your legs, leaving you completely bare.

You started to feel self-conscious, wondering if you looked at least attractive to Michael. Humiliation started to creep up. Your arms twitching and itching to cover yourself up. His hands on your thighs, squeezed gently pulling you back into the moment.

“Yer beautiful,” he reassured you, before his lips moved up your thighs. Your cunt clenching around nothing. His nose brushed against your folds, “fuck,” he hissed. “Yer so wet for me.”

You let out a guttural moan when his tongue took the first swipe at your entrance. Your fists tightened around the sheets, your hips twitching, chasing for more. One of his arms pinned your hips to the bed. His mouth covered your pussy whole. And you gasped, your back arching up. Your hands found his forearm while his tongue and lips kept pleasuring you.

Your legs tightened around his head. He sucked at the small bundle of nerves, making you hiss when he sucked a little too hard. You were losing yourself, coming undone, under his expert tongue. You whimpered, your hands covering your breasts. Michael kept pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The drag of his tongue combined with the suction were enough to make your cunt drenched with want and need.

“Michael, I—I—” speaking was now foreign to you. Your brain and senses overtaken with lust and pleasure, “shit!”

“I know,” he whispered against your cunt. “Come fer me, Pet.”

And that was all you needed. With his name on your lips, your climax crashed into you, your body quivering, your muscles tensing up, as your orgasm washed over you.

Michael gently pulled his head out from between your legs. Panting and blissed out, your eyes found his. His beard glistened with your wetness. A smile played on his lips.

“Like the sounds ya make fer me,” he said crawling on top of you.

You pulled him to you, your lips crashing against his. Tasting the sourness of your own arousal on his tongue. A moan escaped your lips when he bucked into you.

“Michael,” you whimpered against his lips. “You’re wearing too much clothes.” Your hand splayed across his ass, squeezing as he kept rolling his hips into yours. “Please, Mikey, take it off,” you pleaded, your hands reaching his waistband to do it for him.

He pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips, “impatient little thing, aren’t ya?”

“I just want you, Mikey,” you told him. “All of you.”

You watched as he took down his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you. He looked more handsome as he did before. You offered him your hand that he took, crawling back onto the bed. His lips smashed against yours, one of your arms went around his shoulders, your fingers grazing at the hair at the nape of his neck. Your free hand slid between you, grabbing a hold of his cock. A groan rumbled through his chest as you stroke his length, up and down. Eyebrows furrowed, his hand cupped your jaw, pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

“Do ya have a condom?” Michael whispered against your lips.

“I'm on birth control and I’m clean. If you—”

“’M clean too,” he answered, his lips crushed against yours. His cock brushed against your heated core, a broken moan rose from your lips, swallowed by his.

He coated his shaft with your wetness before finding your entrance. And pushed inside. You gasped as he slowly pushed into you. He knocked the breath out of you with his girth. Your eyes fell shut; your jaw slacked while he gently thrusted until he bottomed out. And remained there, unmoving.

You felt him throbbed inside of you, and you clenched with a whimper. “Ya alrigh’?” Michael asked, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Yes,” you panted out. He brought his hips back, leaving the tip inside before pushing back into you. Your head fell back, “shit, you feel so good—”

His lips latched onto yours in a fiery kiss. His hips bucking into you, picking up the pace. “Yer so fucking tight,” he said. “So good fer me.”

His chest hair brushed against you; your skin slick with sweat. His lips broke from your mouth, down your jaw, on your pulsing point. Your nails scraping down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. He angled himself a little higher, brushing against that spot no one had reached before. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, toes curling as he kept pushing into you. He buried his head into your neck, his groans and grunts music to your ears. The sound of your love making filled the room, reverberated against the walls. Filthy and loud.

He was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, once again. Michael could feel by the way you kept clenching around him. His hand slid between and found your clit, his fingers circled around it. Bringing you closer to the edge.

“Yer gonna come fer me, Pet, aren’t ya?” He spoke. You nodded, overwhelmed by his cock bare inside of you, relentlessly driving into you. Your eyes rolled at back of your head, with a gentle grip on your jaw, Michael turned your face to him. “Keep yer eyes on me. Want to see ya when ya come on my cock.”

“Michael, please—” you begged him. You didn’t know what you were begging him for. Was it for release? Or to keep the sweet torture going? You didn’t know. You couldn’t know. Your senses were flooded with all sort of messages, your body on fire.

“Come fer me, Pet. Give it to me, girl.” With one final push, you fell off the edge. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around his cock. His name bounced off the wall, your jaw slack, almost stopped breathing. He pushed once, twice, hard into you before he froze, and you felt him spilt his hot seed into your womb.

The world was quiet, your head empty of all thoughts. Your bedroom only filled with your labored breathing. Your shaking legs fell away from his waist, his breath hot and warm against your neck. His weight comfortable on top of you.

He pulled out of you gently and dropped down next to you. “I hope we didn’t keep the neighbor up,” you breathed out.

His warm hazel eyes met yours, “don’t think he’ll mind much.” You giggled at his quip.

You turned on your side facing him, he ran his fingers through your hair. His fingers left your hair to brush against your heated skin, drawing goosebumps. He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer.

“I had a great time,” you mumbled against his neck.

His lips brushed against your brows, “me too, Pet.”

In each other’s arms, you forgot about your respective families. If only for one night. It was much needed peace away from the chaos of your lives. Free of the conflicts your families seemed to always bring to your lives.

You were slightly disoriented when you woke the morning after. You had grown accustomed to waking up in your couch, with the TV still on. Being welcomed by the sight of a sleeping man in your bed, was definitely strange and new. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, as though the weight that was crushing him disappeared in his slumber.

The memories from the night before came flooding back, the way his lips felt against yours. His rough fingertips on your hot skin. The feel of his beard on your plush and soft thighs as he ate you out.The thought of it alone made your core ache for more.

You decided to give him a few more minutes of peaceful sleep. To keep him away from the world a little longer. You slid out of bed, picking up his clothes and yours off of the floor as quietly as possible. You left his clothes and vest on a chair by the door. You grabbed a fresh pair of panties, and a sleeping shirt before quietly making your way out of your bedroom.

You threw your clothes in hamper in your bathroom before slipping on the fresh clothes. You stared at yourself in the mirror for long minutes. Was he gonna think of you as easy now? Because you had sex with him on the first date. Was it wrong of you to have sex with him on the first date? Wasn’t there some sort of rule about this?

“Is there?” You asked yourself out loud. You let out a deep breath, barely awake and you’d already worked yourself up with doubts.

Michael walked into your kitchen dressed in the clothes he had on the night before. He dropped his jacket and vest on the counter by the door.

“Mornin’,” he grabbed your arms and pulled you into his. A smile on his lips, his hands ran up and down your spine. Your arms wrapped around his middle.

“Morning,” you greeted him back, pressing your mouth against his. “Coffee?”

“That’d be grand, yeah.”

“Go sit down. I’ll bring it to you,” you poured him a cup. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than I do most days,” he replied.

“I see what you mean,” you put down the cup in front of him. You took your seat across from him, “You know I don’t usually do this,” you blurted out.

“What?”

“Have sex on the first date,” he frowned up at you. “I hope you are not judging me for it. I mean it was great and all. And it felt right,” you rambled on. “But now I feel as though I’d done something wrong—”

“Ya regret it, now?” Michael asked you.

“No,” you shot back. “I—I don’t regret it. I don’t. I just don’t—want you to think that it’s easy. That I’m easy.” You let out a deep breath, flustered and ashamed. “Forget I said anything, I’m just being ridiculous over here.”

“I don’t think yer easy,” Michael reassured you, his hand grabbed yours softly. “I—I care about ya, Pet,” your breath hitched in your throat. Your eyes snapped up to his. Sitting there on the surface, were tenderness and softness. “I really do. It’s hard to explain but I feel—like yer the only one I can truly count on. You make me feel less alone,” he squeezed your hand gently. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Heat spread across your chest, and you took a deep breath, “I feel the same about you. And I don’t regret it,” you shook your head. “I really—I really don’t. I want to see where this goes. Between us. Whatever this is.”

“That’d be grand, yeah.”

You bit down your bottom lip, “good.”

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[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

It's Always Been Us - Michael Kinsella x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Story Summary: The continuing saga of Michael and Reader, starting with the morning after It's Always Been You.

Warnings/Tags for entire story: S2E7 & S2E8 AU, Oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v sex (like... a lot of it -- these two have 20 years to make up for), past attempted non-con (if you've seen S2 you know what's up), other additional tags to be added as we go along.

Word Count: ~1700 for this chapter

A/N: It's missing Mikey hours, so here's a new chapter of IABU!

(Also, I can't believe it's been an entire year since I updated this. 😬 Sorry about that.)

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for this or any of my other stories/characters, hit me up!

Michael stirred awake at the text alert on his phone, then carefully reached over to check it so he didn't disturb Y/N, who was sleeping peacefully with her head on his chest.

He unlocked it and opened the text.

From: Birdy

Meeting at Amanda's in 30 minutes.

Michael sighed. He had hoped to be able to spend the morning with Y/N before she had to go home to get ready for work, but no such luck.

He slowly began to slide out from under her.

Y/N let out a little groan and tightened her hold on him, burying her face further into his chest. “Mmph, no, Mikey, not time ta get up yet.”

Michael chuckled and carded a hand through her hair. “Birdy jus’ texted. I hafta get ta Amanda's fer a meetin’.”

Y/N sighed against his skin and loosened her hold, but stayed snuggled to his chest. “Okay. I'll get up and get goin’ then so ya can go do tha’.”

Michael bit his lip. A selfish part of him wanted to keep Y/N in his bed for as long as possible, and besides, he had a feeling that he was going to need her support after the meeting.

He shook his head. “No, love, ya can stay. I hopefully won’ be too long.”

Y/N nodded and pressed a kiss to his chest, then moved her head to the pillows. “Mmm, okay then.”

Michael smiled then leaned over and gave Y/N a kiss on her lips. “Love ya.”

Y/N gave him another kiss before letting him go. “Love ya too, Mikey.”

Michael slid out of bed and went to go take a quick shower, and upon returning to his bedroom to dress he found Y/N had fallen back asleep.

He took a moment to study her. She was even more beautiful in slumber, the stress and worry she carried with her free from her features.

He dressed as silently as possible so as not to disturb her, then pressed a soft kiss to her shoulders before slowly pulling his duvet over her.

He headed downstairs then out the door to walk across to Amanda's.

“Mornin’,” he said as Amanda opened the door.

"Yer’ awfully chipper," Amanda remarked, her eyebrow raised.

She stepped out of the doorway so Michael could enter. "Good night?"

Michael couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, good night."

Amanda scoffed, clearly in a bad mood about something. "Does it hafta do with tha' blonde I saw leavin' yer house tha other day? Because ya know how dangerous it is bringin' a stranger 'round, especially now --"

Michael shook his head. "Nah, tha's nothin' ta worry about."

"Then where were ya? I know ya weren' home las’ night, I tried ta come 'round."

Michael sighed, his own good mood quickly deflating. He was hoping to get business out of the way before he started being grilled about his personal life. "Actually, I was --"

He was interrupted by Amanda's gate opening once again, Birdy giving a wave as she stepped through with Eric in tow.

Amanda gave him a look as if to say, 'this isn't over' before opening the door.

"Mornin'," Birdy said as she and Eric entered.

Michael gave her a kiss on the cheek before nodding at Eric. "Mornin', Birdy, Viking."

"Eric wants ta join in on tha plan," Birdy said.

"Bren's been threatenin' Nikki," Eric explained, "and I ain't fuckin’ havin' tha'."

Michael nodded. "Okay. So we're all in agreement, then?"

“Eric wants something firs’,” Birdy said.

Amanda scoffed. “And wha’s that?”

“I wan’ ta reopen tha houses,” Eric replied. “Run ‘em my way.”

Michael nodded. He completely understood -- by running the houses Eric would no longer be under Amanda's thumb and could do whatever he pleased.

“Fine,” Amanda agreed. “But yer supply has ta come from us.”

Eric nodded. “Agreed.”

“Okay then.”

Eric ran a hand through his hair. "What about Frank and Jimmy? Are we tellin' them abou’ tha plan?"

Michael shook his head. “Jimmy probably wouldn' agree ta it.”

“And Frank's got his own things he's dealin' wit' right now,” Birdy added. “I don' wan' ta add ta tha’.”

Eric nodded. "So when are we gonna do it, then?"

"Best time would probably be tonight after hours at tha pub," Michael explained. "Better fer an ambush, fewer people ‘round."

" Tonight ?"

Michael nodded. “Bren’s hirin’. Tha longer we wait tha harder it’ll be ta do.”

Eric nodded. “Makes sense. So how are we doin’ this?”

They all quickly hashed out the details of the plan.

“Alrigh’, everyone knows their roles,” Birdy concluded. “We meet back here a’ six.”

"Wait," Michael said as everyone got up to leave. "There's somethin' else I need ta talk about."

He took a deep breath as everyone looked at him expectantly. "Y/N and I are seein' each other."

"Ya are?" Birdy replied in surprised delight. "Since when?"

"Couple days. I went over ta her place ta talk and one thing kinda led ta another and, well…" Michael shrugged, unable to keep a grin off of his face.

“I fuckin’ knew it!” Eric crowed. “Jimmy and Frank both owe me 500 quid -- We've had a bet goin' since ya came home las' year about whether or not ya'd get yer head outta yer arse and finally make a move on tha doc. It's abou’ time ya two got ta fuckin'."

Birdy grimaced. "Eric, don' be so crude."

She wrapped her arms around Michael in a hug. "I'm happy fer ya both, love. It's no wonder ya look content this mornin' despite everythin' that's goin' on."

Amanda scoffed. "Am I tha only one who thinks this is a bad idea? Bringin' an outsider inta our family's personal business?"

"What are ya on about, ‘an outsider’ ?" Birdy replied. “Y/N’s been aroun’ jus’ as long as you yerself have -- longer, in fact. Like I've told ya before, just because she hasn't married inta tha family yet doesn' make her any less of a Kinsella.” 

Michael couldn't help but smile at Birdy's use of the word ‘ yet ’. “Y/N knows wha’ Bren’s done and agrees tha' he needs ta go before he hurts anyone else.” 

“Is she workin' tonight?” Eric asked.

Michael nodded. “Aye, but there's no worries about tha’. I'm gonna make absolutely fuckin’ sure tha’ she's not gonna hafta try ta save him.” Not after wha’ he did ta her.

Birdy nodded. “Well then tha’s settled. Everyone go get some rest -- we've got a long nigh’ ahead of us.”

As the group began to disperse, Eric clapped Michael on the back. “Seriously, mate, I'm happy fer you and tha doc. I've always liked her.”

Michael nodded with a small smile. “Thanks.”

He headed back to his house, smiling again when he could hear Y/N humming to herself in his kitchen.

All of the stress of the morning faded away as he walked in to see her standing at his kitchen counter drinking a cup of coffee, clad in his button-down shirt from the night before with her hair still wet from the shower.

He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Good morning, love.”

Y/N set her coffee cup down and turned in his arms. “Mmm, good mornin’ ta ya too.”

She reached up and carded her fingers through the hair at Michael's temples. “How was yer meetin'?”

Michael sighed. “We're goin’ after Bren tonigh’. He’s plannin’ on making a power move, so we can' wait.”

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay, jus’... be careful.” 

Michael nodded, glancing away from her.

Y/N cupped his face in her hands, bringing his gaze back to hers. “I'm serious , Michael. I absolutely canna’ lose ya.”

Michael gave her a soft kiss. “I will, love.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. If things feel even tha slightest bit off I'll call off tha entire plan.” Michael bit his lip. “I, er, I also told Birdy, Amanda, and Viking abou' us.”

A soft smile spread across Y/N’s face. “Ya did? Wha’ did they say?”

Michael huffed out a laugh. “Viking was fuckin’ delighted. Apparently he, Jimmy, and Frank had a wager goin' on abou' whether or not we'd get together. Viking won.”

Y/N shook her head with a fond smile. “I knew there was a reason I always liked Viking. Wha’ abou' Birdy and Amanda? How'd they take tha news?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Amanda said it wasn' a good idea ta bring an ‘outsider’ inta our family’s business, ta which Birdy replied tha’ yer’ definitely no outsider, tha’ ya’ve been aroun' even longer than Amanda has and tha’ even though ya haven' married inta tha family yet that didn' mean tha’ ya were any less of a Kinsella.”

Y/N huffed out a laugh. “Birdy really said ‘yet’?”

Michael nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “She's always considered ya one a’ us, ya know.”

Y/N nodded. “Aye, I know.”

Michael took a moment to appreciate the way his shirt showed off her thighs. “When do ya have ta leave ta go get ready fer work?”

Y/N shrugged. “Not until this afternoon, why?”

Michael stepped closer to her, boxing her in against the counter. “Because ya know wha’s even better than comin' home ta ya wearin' my clothes?"

He slid a hand up her inner thigh. groaning as Y/N's legs parted for him. "Comin’ home ta ya wearin’ only my clothes.”

Y/N gasped as Michael’s fingers caressed her uncovered core. “Couldn't find my knickers.”

Michael smirked. “How convenient fer me then.” 

He withdrew his hand and took a step back, grinning when Y/N let out a displeased whine. “How abou’ we head back upstairs and continue wit’ tha plans I had fer’ us this mornin’?”

Y/N pretended to think. “Well, tha’ depen’s. Do your plans involve us bein’ naked?”

Michael smirked. “Eventually, but firs’ I'm gonna fuck ya while you're wearin’ nothin’ but me shirt.”

Y/N took his hand. “Mmm, in tha’ case I suppose breakfast can wait. Lead tha way, love.”

Michael led her towards the stairs. No matter what happened later that evening, he was going to make whatever time he had with Y/N count.

[shelikesorchids-archive]

Horny little Michael Kinsella blurb inspired by this GIF from Treason:

Dedicated to @loveroftoomanyfandoms @bellaxgiornata and @souliebird who egged me on for this.

Smutty smut smut with fem reader below the cut.

Michael was late getting home again. It wasn't a rare occurrence, but you felt like you and Michael barely got any alone time in the evenings these days. Sure, waking up next to him was always grand, but you wanted to be awake to welcome him home, too.

You were in bed reading when you heard the door open and shut downstairs, signaling Michael’s arrival home. A sly smile crept across your face as you set your book down on the nightstand, then you took your panties off so that you were completely naked under Michael’s dress shirt you borrowed. You loved wearing his clothes because they smelled like him, and it was a source of comfort. Michael loved seeing you in his clothes, and he couldn't keep his hands off you if you were wearing one of his sweaters or shirts.

He finally appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, and you felt for him because he looked so tired.

"Mikey, love. Come ta bed", you whispered as you patted his side of the bed.

He smiled and crossed the room towards the bed, then he shed his pants and sweater, leaving him in just his boxers and t-shirt. You pulled back the covers for him, and he laid down. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get the words out, you climbed on top of him, pressing your lips to his for a kiss. Michael’s hands wandered underneath the hem of the shirt you were wearing, and he moaned into your mouth at the realization that you weren't wearing panties.

"Feelin' naughty, pet?" he whispered against your mouth between kisses.

"Missed you, love."

"I missed ya too. So fuckin much."

"Make love ta me, Mikey."

"Well, how can I say no?"

He wrapped his arms around you and slowly sat up, positioning you in his lap. You could feel his half hard cock through his boxers on your bare pussy, and you started grinding against his lap to get him harder.

"Fuck me, pet. So wet for me already."

"Need ya now, Mikey."

He put his hands on your hips and guided you up a little so he could take off his shirt and boxers. You unbuttoned his shirt you were wearing and started to slide it off your shoulders, but he stopped you.

"No, leave it on," he said before kissing you again.

You wrapped your hand around his fully erect cock, stroking it a couple of times before lining it up with your soaking wet entrance and lowering yourself down on him. Both of you took a moment to adjust to the feeling of this position, being face to face with one another while he was inside you. The feeling was indescribable, and neither of you had started to move yet.

Michael kissed you again, feverishly this time, then whispered against your lips, "Use me, pet. Take what ya need."

You gently started rolling your hips against his lap, and Michael gripped your hips to help with your pace. Your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck as you tenderly rode him, your breaths mixing together as soft sounds of pleasure escaped your lips.

Michael’s lips found your neck, and he left a trail of soft kisses down to your collarbone. "So fuckin gorgeous," he breathed out.

You were getting close. His cock was hitting that sweet spot at an angle you had never felt before, and your cunt was starting to clench around him, encouraging him to cum too.

"Cum with me, Mikey."

"Ah, fuck. Ya feel so good love, gonna cum."

"Cum for me baby."

He gripped your hips tighter as he spilled into you, and you held on to him for dear live as that coil snapped in your lower belly. You ran your fingers through his hair as you kissed him gently, his cock still inside you.

"Yer incredible, Mikey."

"So are you, pet."

You could get used to having him home in the evenings.

*runs away*

[saintmurd0ck]

shatter me

masterlist

pairing: michael kinsella x f!reader

summary: when michael has a rough night on the job, he looks to you as a source of relief

warnings: lowkey DARK dominant michael, submissive reader, amanda slander, choking, face fucking / m!receiving oral, fingering, p in v, orgasm denial, cockteasing, creampie, etc who the fuck knows

a/n: this is dedicated to my wonderful, beautiful @marvelswh0re -- to whom this was owed from back in october last year 😭💗 also CAN WE FUCKING TALK ABOUT THE BANNER?

song pairings: michael kinsella (an anthology)

The front door shuts with a soft click, bringing with it cool tendrils of night air that snake around your arms. The words in your throat sit thickly as the zipper of his jacket hisses open, thick leather crinkling as it’s draped over the banister.

“It’s late, Michael,” you call softly, setting your book down next to you. Your eyes search for the man who’s kept you up all night. 

Despite him being a shadow in your periphery, you feel him stiffen. Calm fury washes over the house for all of two seconds before Michael sets his gun on the console table, metal meeting wood with a heavy hand.  

On near-silent feet, he emerges from the hallway a minute later, his hardened gaze meeting yours. 

You’re the first to extend an olive branch, casting aside the urge to grimace at the blood speckling his face, or the haunted look in his eyes. “You okay, Mikey?” 

He stares blankly ahead, lips pressing into a thin line. It’s not his blood. 

That’s as much emotion as he’ll ever show on nights like these. 

You leap from your spot on the couch, to intercept him before he reaches the kitchen, but he holds out a hand. “Need t’ do it myself.”

Chewing on your lip, you watch with strained eyes as he wets a cloth before lifting it to his bloodied face. The water runs crimson as he wrings it out, droplets sliding over the reddish-purple splotches marring his knuckles.

“That bad, huh, Mikey?” you say, ignoring the uneven rise and fall of your chest. His shoulders slump as he throws the cloth in the sink. 

“Michael,” you insist, restlessness colouring your tone. “Talk to me.”

He shakes his head, bristling as he pushes off the countertop. He doesn’t talk, no. Instead, he makes his way over to you, his steps deliberate enough you almost assume he’s heading back outside. 

Michael blows out a shaky breath as he towers over you, hazel eyes boring into your own. Unable to look away, the hairs on your arms stand up, on par with the want beginning to pool deep within. He swallows, tracking the way your gaze flits to the muscle feathering in his cheek, to the trace of hair peeking out from underneath the edge of his sweater. He toys with the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric in his hand, before dragging the tip of his finger up the column of your throat. 

His name is a trembling prayer on your lips as he lifts your chin up, faces bare millimetres apart.

“Don’t wanna talk, pet,” he murmurs, catching your bottom lip in his teeth.

A shudder fires down your spine as you slip your tongue into his mouth, savouring his warmth, the taste of smoke and whiskey that’s always been Michael. “Then show me what you want.”

It isn’t the lack of urgency in your voice that fractures his restraint. As he wraps his hand around your throat, a faint growl resonating in his chest, it’s what you leave unspoken that makes him explode. 

Shatter me. 

He drives you down onto the couch, stifling your moan as he squeezes your neck tighter. “I don’t want you hurt, pet,” he whispers, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your jaw, “so you tell me if you can’t handle it, yeah?”

You smirk, bucking your hips into his erection. “You know I can.”

The melody of his groans spur you to hook your legs around his middle, giving him full access to grind into your core. He wrests back his control, determined to replenish the well, to rebuild the walls of his resolve. 

For Michael, this isn’t about blowing off steam. It’s more of an intimate fact that no-one in the family is or ever will be privy to. Not even Amanda. 

Never Amanda. 

So you’re entrusted with the understanding that when words fail him, when all he’s left with is the knowledge of how to take… 

You’re his profane virtue, the hellfire to his gasoline—slashing-and-burning time and time again if only to keep these demons at bay.  

Bearing his weight down on you, Michael slides one hand into your hair, gripping the strands tight while the other lifts your shirt, exposing your already-peaked breasts to the chill of the room. The frosty air stings your bare skin, but Michael closes his mouth over the pebbled flesh, claiming you with his teeth and tongue. 

And as you surge forwards, the thrill of his ministrations fuelling your molten centre, you trace your kisses around his tattoos; the delicate arrow on his collarbone, the swirls on his outstretched wrist. His skin tastes of gunpowder, pine and sweat, a testament to his previous whereabouts, and the resolute, internal force Michael tries so desperately hard to conceal. 

I see you, your eyes blaze. I see you. 

When he kisses you again, fire wreathing in every breath, he yanks your dampened underwear to the side, fabric ripping somewhere, anywhere. 

“Who do you belong to?” he snarls, plunging two fingers deep inside you, wetting his lips as your pussy stretches around him. 

You squeak your answer as he thumbs your clit, slipping over it with absolute ease. “You, Mikey.”

His other hand drifts to your waist, gripping hard enough to bruise. “Tha’s fuckin’ right.”

You keen into his touch, eyes squeezing shut as he curls into that spot, bringing you to the edge almost instantly. 

“Tha’s fuckin’ right,” he hisses, pausing to spit onto your gleaming cunt.  

Release barrels through your body as you clench around him, your breathing turning ragged with the tide of your orgasm. He withdraws his hand, springing back onto his knees to take his clothes off. 

Clarity blankets his face for a second as he remembers the cum coating his knuckles, and so he acts. Lifting his soaked fingers to the seam of your lips, Michael’s voice turns vehemently low. “Suck.”

You oblige him, reveling in the taste of yourself and his domineering command, watching as he pulls away to remove his sweater. 

He catches your stare, lip curling in amusement. “You too, pet.”

Nodding furiously, you slide your panties off, frowning at the sizeable rip near the seam. Michael says nothing as you throw them to the side, palming his straining cock through his boxers instead. Your tongue presses against your cheek as he nears, brooding hunger radiating from every inch of his body.

He kicks his boxers away, cementing your position on the couch by straddling your chest, eyebrows furrowing into a piercing glare. Bracketing his knees on either side of you, he pins your arms above your head, his beading precum salty on your awaiting tongue.

“Gonna take it?” he whispers, every word clipped.

“Yes,” you breathe, angling his cock into your mouth, moaning around him as his length reaches the back of your throat.

He grits his jaw, pushing downwards so he can look at his picture of sin: your lips, wrapping around his cock with every deep, rolling stroke, the honeyed anguish of your fingernails digging into the tops of his thighs, and your ardent expression as he fucks your face, as deep as he can go. 

At the sensation of his torment ebbing away, with gratification remaining as the only kindling for his sparking nerves, Michael curls a hand in your hair, fisting the strands at the nape of your neck. Hot tears spill down your cheeks as his pace quickens, Michael’s hushed grunts of ‘take this cock like you mean it’ almost pushing you over the edge.

He skirts the precipice, but that’s as far as he’ll go. For now.

He flashes you a furtive smile as he climbs off you, only to assume a position between your legs. He licks his palm before dragging it across your folds, pausing for a moment to spit where his hand meets your pussy. 

The moan in your throat falters as he pumps himself, moving slightly to tap the head of his cock against your clit. You inhale sharply as he nudges himself into you, but he withdraws before you can even think to claw at him, to beg him for even an inch. 

It’s the sweetest kind of agony, knowing that you’re moments away from being satiated, yet you’re hopelessly trapped underneath him; the mercy being his and his alone. 

He coats himself in your slick, flexing his hips to rub his length against your folds. You glance upwards, at the wild look of determination spilling across his face. 

It turns out that that’s all he needs for the inferno to come to life.

Michael slides home in one smooth stroke, wasting no time in hauling one of your legs onto his shoulder, pounding into you as deep as he can manage. With every snap of his hips against yours, his restrained groans blend into the crook of your neck—a fevered combination of your pulse, caught between his teeth, and a fervoured haze that he can’t help but lose himself to. 

You match his pace, thrust for thrust, biting down on whatever part of him your mouth skims over first. You’re close—so goddamn close that your pussy becomes a vice, the dam about to break with the force of a tidal wave. 

“No,” he rasps, shaking his head forcefully. “Not until I say you can.”

You lurch forwards, a plan unfolding in your head to simply do it and face the consequences, but that tiny, almost insignificant, obedient fragment of you moves to get your leg off his shoulder, resolving instead to curse him a thousand ways in your mind.

Your vision fringes in white as he drives himself forward, grunting his approval at your subservience. He cages you in, almost entranced at his effortless ability to angle his thrusts to hit all the right places, to arm you with a satisfaction no toy could ever hope to achieve.

A corner of his mouth quirks upwards as you start to whimper, close to tears because he feels too fucking good not to let go. He draws back to squeeze his hand around your throat before sealing your lips with his own.

“Soon,” he whispers, pulling away to lift your hips up.

Nothing is delicate about the way he fucks you; not with his hands spreading you apart, or the mixture of your sweat and arousal dripping down his body. 

Michael knows, just from the way you’re panting his name, that you’ll take him with you when you explode. 

His eyes flutter closed as he leans over you, bracing his forearm around your waist and grasping the arm of the couch for balance. A kind of delirium washes over him as he moves quicker, not intending to stop until he gets what he wants.

On any ordinary occasion, his answer would be your pleasure, but not tonight. 

Tonight belongs to him.

He looks to you, tersely repeating the command he’s been yearning to give. “M’gonna fill ‘ya up.”

And he clamps his hand over your mouth as your knees dig into his sides, his fingernails marking you all the same with the force of your tandem orgasms. He bows his head as he spills into you, his entire body taut with the kind of hedonism derived from being your equal, the mirror image of your resplendent apostasy. 

You don’t keep track of how long you stay like that, or the time it takes for you to muster the energy to roll away.

What you do notice is that for once, Michael lays there with no hints towards his previous stressors, no recollection to the very thing that had plagued him to begin with. 

You find that your voice is steadier than it was before. “Better, Michael?”

“Better,” he affirms, reaching for your hand to intertwine it in his own.

tags {x} for some of my mikey girlies (yes, even if you haven't seen the show) @bellaxgiornata @peterman-spideyparker @marvelswh0re @mindidjarin @murdock-and-the-sea @reborn-rekall

[mattmurdocksscars]

Hi friend!! 💕 I've got a request for your Spooktober! Can I get our lovely Mikey, a Werewolf AU, and the prompt "What a nice little sound, I think I'll bite there again"? 🙃

The full moon always brought out the beast in Michael. He had control over his shifting but it didn't change the fact that he became insatiable in every way. He wanted to run and fuck and go all night and as long as you gave him the green light, nothing would stop him.

Which is why you were currently confined to the bed, unable to walk after several rounds of sex. Yet Michael wasn't done with you, far from it. He settled between your legs and nuzzled your mound before turning his head and biting down on the soft flesh of your thigh. The whine that slipped from your lips was nothing sort of sin and Michael smirked.

"What a nice little sound, I think I'll bite there again." He rumbled, golden eyes flashing with mischief. True to his word, he bit there again, sucking and nibbling the flesh until a hickey formed. He continued like this on both thighs, leaving his mark with pride. He was also giving you a chance to recuperate some before he continued, something you appreciated.

"Mikey, I-" You were cut off by a whimper that burst from your chest when Michael suddenly kissed your clit. He grinned against you.

"Yes, pet?"

"I don't know how much more I can take." Yiu admitted, body exhausted.

"Do I need ta stop?" He asked, pulling back to look up at you in concern. Michael would only ever push you as far as you were willing to go and that always made your heart swell.

"I don't know. Can we take a break? Please?" Immediately, Michael climbed his way up your body and laid next to you, pulling your body into the safety of his arms. You placed your head and a hand on his chest and breathed deeply.

"O' course, pet. Ya just let me know what ya need or want. I'll get it for ya."

"Just hold me. I need you close right now." Michael rumbled lowly beneath you and you smiled softly.

"Nothing could take me from ya, love. I've got ya."

Later, the two of you would go back at it but for now, Michael kept his promise and held you close.

[realfernmayo]

michael kinsella likes to wake you up with his head between your thighs BYE

GET BACK HERE NONNIE! I think you're on to something...

(Also, this gif. Boy what that mouth do?!)

Sleepyhead pussy drunk Mikey below the cut.

You fell asleep in his sweater last night. Michael loves it when you wear his clothes, because your scent lingers on them, and it's comforting for him. He woke up with an insatiable need to taste you, but you looked so peaceful that he almost didn't want to wake you.

He gently pulled the covers from your body, and seated himself between your legs. You stirred slightly, but you quickly fell back to sleep, so he gently spread your legs wider. He slid your panties to the side and put his mouth on your pussy, starting with gentle licks with the flat of his tongue. You stirred again, and for a moment you thought you were dreaming, until you opened your eyes to see Mikey's fluffy brown hair between your legs.

The moan that escaped your lips was music to his ears, and he paused for a moment to give you a sleepy "G'mornin' love" before diving back in.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he turned his attention to your clit, gently sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. He paused again, and you whined as he started toying with the waistband of your panties.

"Can I take these off?" he whispered.

You nodded and he hooked his fingers in the elastic to pull them off your body. He took a moment to drink in the sight of your bare cunt exposed to him, with your top half covered by his sweater.

"Fuck yer gorgeous," he breathed out before taking his place between your legs once again.

He continued alternating between licking and sucking, and you were coming undone on his tongue. You were so close to sweet release, and Michael could tell, so he applied just a bit more pressure to get you there. Your legs shook, you screamed, and you gently moved his face away from your cunt before he got you overstimulated. He climbed on top of you to kiss you so you could taste the tang of your arousal on his tongue.

"G'mornin' indeed," you laughed.

"I think ya might like me wakin' ya up like that," he crooned.

"I sure do, but I hope you saved room for breakfast, cause I'm starvin'."

*runs away again*

[bellaxgiornata]

The Christmas Morning Surprise

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love, ya don't have to–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ Shit , love,” Michael gasped out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he answered with a grin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[farfromstrange]

Butterfly Effect | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Masterlist ; Chaos Theory (continuation)

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Barista!Reader Coffee Shop AU

Summary: After spending years in prison, Michael Kinsella gets to be a free man again. He wants to be a better man for his daughter – no, he needs to be if he wants to see her again. For that, he needs to leave the man he was in the name of his family behind and look forward. Though as a Kinsella, leaving the bloodshed and crime in the past seems sheerly impossible. After all these years, he's not sure where to with himself, but he is more than sure that he wants to try. In search of something familiar, he walks the streets of the city that have become a stranger to him now. Michael, in desperate need of a hot drink and a shield around the world, decides to give the new café that has replaced his and Jimmy's old favorite coffee shop a shot. It's where he meets you, a kind-hearted barista who seems more than determined to make him smile with a simple coffee order, and you slowly but steadily start to unravel his guarded heart.

Or, five times you take the first step, and the one time Michael finally takes a step toward you.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mentions of canon-typical violence, eventual smut (additional warnings will be added before every chapter)

A/n: I considered long and hard if I should post this or the chapter first, but like this, I have some more time to edit. was planning to write it as a long One Shot, but then I looked at the word count of the first part and I decided this would be the best way to go. Each chapter is a One Shot, but they all connect and build on each other. I am on my Michael Kinsella shit. This is not too plot heavy, so you can read it even without having watched both seasons of the show (God knows I am guilty of not being through Season 2 yet either, so this will be loosely based on Season 1). But this is an AU, after all, and it's basically just me trying to give Mikey some much-needed comfort.

This is going to be a mini-series told in 7 parts!

Toffee Nut Latte

Butterfly Pea Flower On Ice

Irish Coffee

Dirty Chai

Double Espresso

Bittersweet Symphony

Butterfly Effect (Epilogue)

The form to my tag list can be found on my profile, but if you want to be tagged for this series specifically, just let me know!

[shiorimakibawrites]

Day 4 - Compromise

Prompt: 4 - Sixty-Nine Character: Michael Kinsella Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader Word Count: 755 Warnings: Referenced sex, explicit sex, 69 position, oral sex (male and female receiving), swearing Tags: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @lulukings92, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

Compromise

One of Michael’s best qualities was that he wasn’t a selfish lover. He loved eating you out until your legs gave out. Even when he was fucking you, he never forgot your orgasm. Ever. Your pleasure seemed to matter more to him than his own.

Which was great. It was wonderful to be with someone so attentive. Especially after so many years of men who only cared about their own pleasure, that thought sex was over once they orgasmed. Not Mikey. He made sure that you orgasmed, more than once if possible, and never skipped aftercare.

Between that and doing his share of the housework without prodding, Michael Kinsella had ruined you for all other men.

The only fly in the ointment was that you weren’t a selfish lover either. As much as you liked receiving pleasure, you also liked giving it. You wanted to make him feel good. But when you expressed a desire to do so, that’s when his tendency to downplay his own needs and wants reared its ugly head.

The very idea of focusing primarily on him and his pleasure just did not compute. The baffled look he gave you when you insisted that you would enjoy sucking his cock would have been cute under any other circumstance. But under this circumstance, it was just frustrating.

After a couple of rounds of irresistible force meets an immovable object, you and Michael came to a compromise. Mutual oral sex aka the sixty-nine. It wasn’t something you had done before but you were willing to give it a try.

Even if it was a little awkward, having your ass in Michael’s face like this.

“I like havin’ yer arse in my face,” he countered. His voice had taken on that deep, smokey quality that went straight to your cunt. As if to emphasize his assertion, he started kneading your ass in his hands. “Ya have the best arse in Ireland.”

“I think you are confusing me for yourself, Mikey,” you said.

He snorted, “Gotta disagree with ya, pet.”

You disagreed but now was not the time to start an argument about who had the better ass (which was obviously Michael). You’d deal with that nonsense later. Right now, you had other things that needed your attention.

Like this pretty cock right in front of you. Flushed bright pink, it was tempting you to lick it. So that’s what you did, running the flat of your tongue across the head. You felt Michael’s body underneath you jolt. You wanted to smirk. He hadn’t been expecting that.

He couldn’t contain a moan when you repeated the action. Or began to lap, chasing every drop of the salty pre-cum leaking out of his cock. But if there was one (more) thing that Michael was good at it, it was reacting quickly. Using his grip on your ass, he tugged you closer to him. You shivered at the prickly sensation of his beard against your inner thigh.

But that was nothing compared to the shudder that wracked your body when his tongue ran through your folds. Once. Twice. Before focusing on his target - your clit. It was your turn to moan when he began doing the same flat licks to the sensitive little nub as you were doing to his cock.

Then he started sucking gently on your clit. You were unable to stop yourself from squirming. Especially when he upped the ante by humming. You cried out. The vibration alone was almost enough to tip you over that edge.

Two can play at that game Kinsella, you thought. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock and sucked. Then you hummed. This time he was the one who lost control. His hips bucked up, pushing his cock a little further into your mouth. You moaned, your fingers digging into his thighs.

He broke the suction on your clit to groan out, “Fuck, pet, ya killin’ me”

You rewarded him by moaning around him again. 

But as before, Michael wasn’t left flat-footed for long. With rumble that almost a growl, his mouth latched back into your clit. His hands dug into your ass, holding you in place with a grip almost hard enough to bruise. You didn’t care if it did. All you cared about was the pleasure coursing through your veins . . . the obscenely loud slurping and grunting noises filling the bedroom . . . the heavy cock filling your mouth . . . the salty taste of him on your tongue . . . the building tremors in Michael’s body as you hurdled together toward that sweet, sweet peak . . . 

[siampie]

Chapter List for Finding You

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

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

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

List of Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 (Coming Soon)

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

It's Always Been You (Reader's Version)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Summary: What if Michael went to his best friend (Reader) during the events of Season 2 Episode 7 instead of Amanda coming to him?

Warnings/Tags: Friends to Lovers, PWP, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, spoilers for season 2 of Kin, American attempting to write an Irish dialect

Word Count: ~3500

A/N: I've joined everyone in Mikey Brainrot Land! Expect more from me featuring Mikey (including a Mikey PoV of this fic) soon!

Fuckin' hell, what a day, Y/F/N Y/L/N thought as she poured herself a very large glass of wine and sat on her sofa. She had been shouted at by one patient at the hospital where she worked, hit on by another, and accused of trying to exsanguinate a third when she had sent a nurse in for a blood draw.

She had just opened the book she had settled down to read when her doorbell rang. Of course.

She opened the door and couldn't help but smile when she saw who was standing in her doorway -- her best friend of over twenty years, Michael Kinsella. "Mikey, hi."

Michael rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "Hey, Y/N. Can I come in?"

Y/N stepped out of the doorway. "Yeah, of course."

She shut the door behind Michael. "Can I get ya a drink? Water, tea… juice?"

Michael smiled sadly. "Beer?"

Y/N's eyebrows raised. Michael rarely imbibed after getting out of prison, so Y/N knew there was probably something serious going on. "Sure. Make yerself comfortable."

She went to her kitchen, popping open two beers before heading into her living room, pleased to see that Michael had taken his shoes off. Plannin' on stayin' a while, then. Good.

She handed him one of the beers then set the other one down before picking up her glass of wine and sitting beside him on the sofa. "Talk ta me, Mikey. What's goin' on?"

Michael drained half of the bottle before speaking. "Bren's been sniffin' 'round Anna."

Y/N sucked in a breath. Unfortunately she knew first-hand about Michael's father's predatory ways. "Did ya tell her about him?"

Michael sighed. "I tried, but she just accused me of tryin' ta keep her from tha family and I got angry and shouted at her, then I left."

Y/N took a long sip of wine. She loved her goddaughter, she really did, but she knew Anna was still angry at Michael and wouldn't want to listen to anything her father said. "Want me ta talk ta her? She might actually listen ta her Auntie Y/N."

Michael drained the rest of his beer and picked up the other bottle, then took another drink. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd appreciate tha'. I'm not exactly on the best terms with her right now."

Y/N reached out and gave Michael's hand a squeeze. "I'm sorry yer having such a rough go of it, Mikey."

Michael scoffed and took another long drink of his beer. "Oh, that's not even half of it. I called Molly afterward, then when she didn't answer I went to the chemist's to see her."

Y/N's heart clenched. She had to admit it hurt that after fighting with Anna the first person Michael had wanted to talk to hadn't been Y/N, but Molly. He hadn't been seeing her long but he seemed pretty taken with her already. "Mmm."

Michael sighed. "I didn't see her so I asked after her, and tha chemist told me she was off for tha next month." 

Y/N tilted her head curiously. "She went on holiday and didn't tell ya?"

Michael shook his head. "She's off on her weddin' and honeymoon."

Y/N gasped. That definitely hadn't been what she was expecting Michael to say. "Tha' fuckin' bitch, I'll fuckin' kill her."

Michael gently grabbed her arm as she went to stand. "Nah, no need to be goin' doin' tha'. I'm grand."

Y/N sat back down. "No you're fuckin' not, Michael, otherwise ya wouldn't be sittin' on my sofa puttin' away beer like it's fuckin'  water right now."

Michael shook his head with a chuckle. "No, no yer right, I'm not, but I will be." 

Y/N's heart broke for him. "I'm so sorry, Mikey."

"Ah, don't go worrying yer pretty little head about me." Michael shrugged then moved a stray piece of hair from Y/N's face, his touch lingering on her cheek. "I'll be fine, darlin'. Not the first time I've slept with a married woman -- or in this case, engaged."

Y/N fought to keep her eyes from fluttering closed. She had fought against her feelings for Michael ever since they had met as teenagers. But he hadn't seemed interested in her in that way at the time and then Y/N had been busy with university, and by the time she was done with her schooling Michael had already had an affair with Amanda then married Alison and had Anna, and after that… well. He had spent 8 years away.

Y/N had also recently heard whisperings of Michael and Amanda possibly rekindling their affair, but had dismissed it after Michael had recently mentioned asking the pretty clerk at the chemist's out on a date.

She sat back, draining the last of her glass of wine.

Michael's brow furrowed. "You alrigh'?"

"Oh yeah, I'm grand," Y/N said, giving him a nudge in order to distract him from her flustered state.

She stood. "Another ale?"

Michael shook his head. "Ah, I probably shouldn't. Got ta' walk home."

"You can stay here tonight, ya know." Y/N headed towards the kitchen to pour herself another glass of wine. "You're always welcome."

"Ya sure I won't be a bother?" Michael asked. 

Y/N grabbed another beer for Michael and headed back into her living room. "Nah, of course not. Ya never are a bother, Mikey, you know tha'. The guest room is always open."

She handed Michael his beer and sat back down next to him. "'Sides, you can keep me from going out and doing something stupid, like slashing that little slag's tires or settin' her house on fire."

Michael chuckled. "I really didn't get far enough in ta where I knew where she lives."

"Fuckin' lucky for her then." Y/N took a sip of wine. "Anna will be okay, ya know that, right Mikey?"

Michael shook his head. and took a sip of his beer. "I'm just tryin' ta protect her, Y/N." 

Y/N studied him. "Just from Bren or from the rest of yer family too?"

Michael sighed. "I don't know. Both, I guess? I just… I don't want this for her, I -- after what happened ta Jamie I can't lose her too. I can't lose another child ta this life."

Y/N's heart broke all over again. "Ya won't, Mikey. Ya won't, because ya have me protectin' her. I love her like she was me own and I love you, ya know I'd die before I let anythin' happen to either of ya."

Michael looked down at the floor, silently contemplating something. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

Michael opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, then opened it again, then after another moment of hesitation he cupped Y/N's chin in his hand and pressed his lips to hers, quickly moving his hand from her chin to the side of her neck as he kissed her again.

Y/N sucked in a shaky breath as Michael leaned back. Did that just fuckin' happen?

She opened her mouth, her eyes flitting across Michael's face as he looked at her as if he was waiting for her to slap him.

Before she could second-guess herself, she cupped Michael's face in her hands and pressed her lips back to his, pouring 20+ years of pent-up feelings into the kiss.

Michael responded quickly, shifting to lean Y/N back onto the sofa as he took control. "How long, pet?" he murmured against her lips.

Y/N gasped in a breath as Michael trailed hot kisses across her neck, his beard scratching deliciously against her skin. "Mikey, please…"

Michael growled against her throat. "I said, how fuckin' long, Y/N? How long have ya been wantin' me like I've been wantin' ya?"

Y/N hissed as Michael gave a gentle nip to her throat. "Ever since -- oh, fuck, Michael -- ever since I first clapped eyes on ya."

Michael groaned and leaned back to look at her. "Fuck, why didn't ya ever say anythin'?"

"Because I didn't think you were ever interested in me like tha'." Y/N sighed and sat up. "There was tha' thing with Amanda, and after tha' ya met Alison, then after she -- well, after ya came home, I thought about finally telling ya how I felt but ya were so focused on trying ta reunite with Anna and then Jamie died and there was tha' whole business with Eamon and the Batuks, and after ya came back home from tha' you were dealing with your da getting out of prison, and then it was too late because ya had started talking about Molly. Ya seemed happy fer once, Mikey, I didn't want ta get in the way of tha'." Y/N bit her lip. "Yer happiness means everythin' ta me."

Michael shook his head as he sat back on his knees. "Fuckin' hell, Y/N. You. You make me happy, ya always have." 

He paused as if a thought had struck him. "Is that why ya never got married?"

Y/N looked away so she didn't have to see pity written all over Michael's face. She had had boyfriends over the years that she had known Michael, of course, and more than the occasional one-night-stand or friend-with-benefits, but never anything overly serious.

She shrugged casually, pretending like the current conversation wasn't absolutely humiliating. "It's always been you."

Michael sighed. "Fuck."

Y/N shook her head, still refusing to look at him. "It's not a big deal, Mikey, it's not like I'm some sort of blushin' virgin or anythin'. I get my needs taken care of."

(And if she purposely only chose men with dark hair and haunted eyes to sleep with… well.)

Michael reached out and gently cupped her chin in his hand, turning her face back towards his. "Y/N, look at me, pet, please."

Y/N turned her gaze back towards him, unable to deny Michael such a simple request when he asked so sweetly.

Michael leaned in and pressed his lips to hers once again, his hand sliding from her chin to cup her neck again as he moved in to kiss her deeper.

Y/N melted against him, all of the tension leaving her body as Michael's tongue slid against hers.

Her hands scrabbled for purchase as he leaned her backwards again, finally finding the hem of Michael's sweater and shoving it up his body in order to get to bare skin.

Michael stopped kissing her just long enough to lean back and pull his sweater up and over his head, depositing it on the floor before finding her mouth once again.

Y/N ran her hands up Michael's chest, breathing out a light 'fuck' as Michael's hands slid underneath her tank top in an attempt to also disrobe her.

She sat up just enough to pull her tank top off, sighing in satisfaction as Michael's bare skin finally touched hers.

Michael began kissing his way further down her throat, his hand snaking up into her hair so he could tilt her head for better access.

Y/N whimpered as Michael's hand tightened slightly, her hips grinding up against his burdening erection. "Want ya inside me, Mikey."

Michael groaned. "Fuck, I don't have any johnnys on me."

Y/N shook her head. "It's okay. I'm on birth control and I get tested regularly for STIs."

She paused, realizing what Michael might have been insinuating. "Unless ya think we need one? In that case I have some in tha' ensuite."

Michael shook his head. "I don't -- I didn't go without, with Molly, if that's what yer askin', pet. And there hadn't been anyone else fer years before tha'."

Y//N nodded, her decision made. "Then take me to bed, Michael."

Michael wrapped his hands around her thighs. "Hold on ta me."

Y/N linked her arms around his neck. "I'm never lettin' go of ya again if I don't hafta."

Michael pressed his lips to hers once again as he lifted her to him, then stood and carried her to her bedroom.

He deposited her in her bed, wasting no time before climbing in after her.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous, pet," Michael breathed, his eyes roaming Y/N's naked torso. "Been wantin' ya fer over twenty fuckin' years."

Y/N sucked in a breath at the revelation that Michael had been wanting her for just as long as she had been wanting him. "Why didn't you ever say anythin'?"

Michael shook his head. "Because I was tryin' ta protect ya. Ya didn't deserve ta get dragged inta all of my family's shite." 

He shrugged. "Besides, ya were much too good fer the likes a' me."

Y/N huffed out a breath. "Don't ya think tha' was my decision ta make?"

Michael scoffed. "Come on, Y/N, wha' good would I have been fer ya? Ya became a fuckin' doctor."

Yeah, because a' you, Michael."

Michael's brow furrowed. "Wha' -- wha' ya mean, ya became a doctor because a' me?" 

Y/N bit her lip. Might as well tell him. "I became a doctor because if anythin' happened on a job and you couldn't go to hospital because it seemed suspicious you could at least come ta me and I'd patch ya up." 

She smiled softly. "...Or because ya had punched a wall or fell and broke a glass door with yer head."

Michael looked flabbergasted. "But I thought --"

Y/N shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, I love savin' lives and I don't mind helpin' out yer family when they need patchin', but the most important life ta me is yers, Mikey. I'd do anythin' I possibly could ta keep ya safe." 

She reached up and caressed his face. "Like I said, I love ya."

"Fuck." Michael closed his eyes briefly, then upon reopening them he leaned down and kissed Y/N, this time leaving her breathless with passion. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Michael's back, gasping in a breath as he kissed his way down her throat.

"So beautiful," Michael murmured, sliding his hands up Y/N's sides and trailing his thumbs under her breasts. "Fuckin' gorgeous, pet."

Y/N moaned as Michael circled the nipple of her left breast with his tongue, tangling her fingers into his hair and arching towards his mouth. "Mikey…"

"Mmm," Michael murmured. "Love tha' way ya say my name, like fuckin' music comin' out a' ya."

He wrapped his lips around her nipple, taking his time to tease it to a peak before switching to the other one.

Y/N gasped and arched into him again. "Fuck."

Michael hummed and let Y/N's nipple go with a soft 'pop'. "We're gettin' ta that, pet."

Y/N lifted her hips in permission as Michael's hands made their way to the waistband of her lounge pants. "Mikey… Mikey, love, need ya in me."

"Mm-mm." Michael shook his head as he slowly peeled Y/N's pants and underwear off. "Got ta taste ya first, darlin'."

Y/N whimpered, the thought of having Michael's mouth against her bare cunt making her clench around nothing.

Michael smirked as he trailed his hands up Y/N's bare legs, slowly parting them. "Oh, ya like that, do ya, pet? Ya like the thought of havin' my face buried between yer thighs, tastin' yer sweet nectar?"

Y/N moaned. "Fuck, yes, Mikey, please, need your mouth on me, love."

Michael licked his lips, his eyes glittering with desire. "Fuckin' hell, pet, yer fuckin' drippin' fer me."

Y/N let out a loud moan as Michael leisurely slid his tongue up her folds. 

Michael groaned. "Fuck, you taste so fuckin' sweet, darlin'. Wish I could've been eatin' this cunt out fer years."

Y/N hissed as Michael licked another stripe up her folds then circled her clit with his tongue. "Ah, fuck, Mikey…"

Her hands flew into Michael's hair as he pressed his tongue inside her. She had had a few lovers go down on her over the years -- some more-or-less semi enthusiastically -- but Michael ate her out like he was a man starved and she was a full-course meal.

Michael worked two fingers inside her as he removed his mouth from her cunt. "Want ya ta come fer me, pet. Come fer me and I'll give ya my cock like I know ya been needin'."

Y/N whimpered again, the familiar coil inside her tightening. "Please, Mikey."

Michael lowered his mouth to her once again, beginning to fuck her with his fingers as he sucked her sensitive bud in between his lips.

Y/N felt the coil getting tighter and tighter. "Fuck, yes, Mikey, please -- Ah!"

Michael pressed a hand to her stomach as Y/N came against his face, his mouth firmly attached to her clit as he worked her through her orgasm.

He kissed his way back up Y/N's body to her lips as he began undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans.

Y/N moaned at the faint tang of herself on Michael's tongue, reaching down blindly to help Michael shove his pants and boxers down. "Need yer cock, Mikey, want it so bad, love."

Michael finished divesting himself of his pants and positioned himself back over Y/N.

Y/N bit her lip in ecstasy as Michael stroked his cock through her folds a few times, coating himself in her slick before slowly pressing inside.

She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, the feel of Michael's bare cock inside of her unlike anything else she had ever experienced.

"--Ya alrigh', pet?"

Y/N opened her eyes to see Michael watching her worriedly. 

"I'm not hurtin' ya, am I?" he asked.

Y/N shook her head. "No, Mikey, feels so good, love."

Michael slowly withdrew until just the tip of his cock remained inside of her. 

He groaned. "Fuckin' hell, darlin', ya feel fuckin' incredible."

Y/N let out a gasp as Michael snapped his hips forward, burying himself in her as deeply as he could. "So do you, Mikey. Fuck, yer so fuckin' perfect."

Michael pressed his lips to the side of Y/N's neck, then began a slow, but firm pace.

The slick slide of Michael's cock in and out of Y/N quickly had a second orgasm approaching. "Mikey, I'm close, love."

Michael picked up his pace, fucking Y/N more firmly. "Did ya let any of the others inside ya like this, Y/N?" he growled. "Did ya let them feel yer tight cunt around their bare cocks?"

Y/N shook her head, crying out as Michael hit her sweet spot. "No, Mikey, just you, only ever you, love."

Michael groaned. "Can I come inside ya, pet?"

Y/N gasped. "Yes -- yes, Mikey, please. Want ta feel ya, love, need ta feel ya."

Michael reached down and began to circle Y/N's clit with his thumb. "Want ya to come with me, pet, want ta feel ya take me as deep inside ya as ya can."

Y/N began to feel the familiar coil tightening again. "Yes, Mikey, I'm close, love, please. Fill me, mark me, claim me, make me yers."

Michael let out a rumble from deep in his chest. "Yeah, pet? Want me ta ruin ya fer anyone else? Fuck a wee one into this tight cunt of yers, have my babe growin' inside ya?"

Y/N nodded, the coil getting ready to snap. "Yes, fuck, Mikey."

"Gonna fill ya with my cum, pet, keep fuckin' ya till I'm sure yer cunt has taken every last fuckin' drop." Michael hissed in a breath as his hips stuttered. "Fuck, Y/N --"

Y/N arched against him, the coil snapping once again. "Michael--"

Michael continued to thrust into her, finally slowing once he was satisfied.

He eased out of her and collapsed at her side, reaching for her and pulling her on top of him as he caught his breath.

Y/N hummed blissfully, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist.

Michael sighed and slid his hands around Y/N's back. "It's always been you, too, love," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I never told ya sooner. I just wanted ta keep ya safe."

Y/N shook her head, placing a kiss right over Michael's heart. "It's alright. I understand."

She looked up at him. "So wha' happens now?" 

Michael smirked. "We go get a shower then come back for another go?"

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "You know what I mean, Michael."

Michael shook his head. "Can we talk about it in tha' mornin'?"

Y/N nodded, her heart sinking. Of course this is just a one-night thing for him.

She moved to get up. "Okay."

Michael tightened his hold on her, his expression quickly becoming concerned. "Hey, no, love, it's not what yer thinkin'. I want ta give this a go, I -- it's everythin' else I don't want ta have ta think about tonigh'. I just want ta be here with ya, that's all I'm sayin'."

He took a deep breath. "I love ya, Y/N. I'm never lettin' go of ya again if I don't hafta."

A smile spread across Y/N's face as Michael repeated her earlier words back to her. "I love ya too, Mikey."

She leaned up and gave Michael a kiss. "Come on. I've got plans for tha' shower."

[shelikesorchids-archive]

We Could Call It Even

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Warnings: Semi public sex, unprotected p in v sex (don't be fools wrap your tools), vaginal fingering, mentions of alcohol, Mikey being an absolute cheeky bastard. FEELINGS AND SMUT.

Summary: You are visiting your home in Dublin for the first time in years, when you run into an old flame at the local pub.

Author's Note: Written for the Thirsty for Cox April challenge! The prompt was "song fics" and this is inspired by "tis the damn season" by Taylor Swift. As always, a big thank you and a million smooches to @itwasthereaminuteago for being the best beta reader EVER.

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Being back in Dublin to visit your family was almost surreal. It had been entirely too long since your last visit, and it seemed like the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. The same regulars frequented the pub close to your parents’ house, and they all recognized you when you walked in. There was an onslaught of “Where have you been?” and “How are you?”, and you honestly missed it. Even though your career had taken off and you found success abroad, nowhere in the world compared to home. 

You ordered a drink, took a seat at the bar, and then you glanced up towards the door as it opened. The sight before you nearly took your breath away, and you had to blink a few times to make sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you. There he was, the man you loved, but left all those years ago to pursue your dreams: Michael Kinsella. Your family didn’t care for him, because they knew about his family’s “business”. They warned you that he was bad news, and he would only get you hurt or in trouble, but you didn’t listen to them. You were young, and you loved him in a passionate, reckless way that only comes once in a lifetime. The memories of your relationship came flooding back to you all at once, and you were about to excuse yourself for a moment, until he appeared right in front of you. 

“Is this seat taken?” he asked as he gestured to the bar stool next to you. 

Read the rest on AO3

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Tagging my TFC babes: @itwasthereaminuteago @mattmurdocksscars @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @munsonownsmyass @pedrito-friskito @thisishellfire @saintmurd0ck @idrinkcoffeeandobsess