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your-nanas-house · 4 months

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Soooo I was thinking Cillian X Fan! reader. He takes advantage of the fact that reader admires him sm and uses her for his pleasure…

I'm so so sorry, it took me so long but I was really really smitten with this idea! 🙇🏼‍♀️

Out with the dog

◇ Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy X younger fan!Reader

◇ Warnings: SMUT, Cilly is a perv and bit dark, DUBCON, manipulation, bit mean Cilly (?), oblivious fem reader, fluff, frustration and stress.

◇ Summary: Cillian has company during his daily walk with his dog, Scout.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. I didn't proof read it... I mean I don't re-read my works normally but I just wanted to point it out this time in case I wrote some shit. Enjoy!!! Also thank you @kiss-me-cill-me for your advices and motivation! 🫶🏻

It wasn't at all what he was expecting when he left the house just to take the family dog for a walk.

The twisted thoughts and stress that had been troubling him all day had become even more insistent with the cool Dublin air and the fall of evening. His mind was really elsewhere when a soft and shy voice interrupted his trail of thoughts, making him realize that he was standing in the same spot, staring at nothing, since a while now.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to bother you but... I'm a huge fan of your work and—" the voice cracked softly, the younger girl that was standing in front of him looked quite nervous and shy which made him smile slightly.

"I-I-I... sorry, I shouldn't have interrupted you" she quickly apologized, her body telling him that she was going to just walk quickly off... too ashamed of the interaction to actually look him in the eyes again.

"Don't worry..." Cillian started, waiting for her name as he removed his sunglasses, flattering his eyes softly when the dim light hit him. She was very pretty and at least 10 years younger than him for sure, he thought while taking her in.

"Y/n!... Y/n" the young woman revealed nervously, her hands shaking awkwardly, a thing that Cillian noticed immediately and that made him smile a little as soon as she tried to hide it by grabbing into her bag... both hands holding the strap making his breath get bit heavier.

He sure was stressed and frustrated, he thought as his eyes remained on her smaller hands as they moved slightly while she talked... up and down, up and down.

Gosh, he really would have loved to have them wrapped around his cock like that, he was certain that those tiny pretty hands weren't that innocent for sure.

"Beautiful name" he commented with a tiny smile in an attempt to distract himself by his pervy intrusive thoughts. He really didn't need to deal with an article of some random magazine commenting on him walking around Dublin with a noticeable hard-on after talking with a younger woman.

She sure was a pretty thing though, from her hair to her eyes down to her breasts and— he needed to keep hold on himself. What gotten into him? He never objectified a woman like that... it wasn't like him.

He needed to keep going with his walk, clear his mind, regain back the control he usually had and—

"I was actually hoping for a bit of company... would you like to walk with me?... and my dog" the proposal slipped out of the older man unconsciously, as his gaze darkened slowly, his body reacting almost animalisticly... like a hungry predator ready to eat his prey.

Fuck, he cursed in his head, looking away as he waited for a reply from her... a poor way to distract himself from her innocent presence. Poor because the wind was apparently against him as well that evening... blowing her sweet scent towards him so that his nostrils could take her even more in.

The Irishman really hoped silently for her rejection peppered with some tender excuse that could have been true or could have been false... he didn't care much.

But of course, things hadn't been going the way he'd hoped all day so why be surprised when he got a shy yes instead of an embarrassed no.

He couldn't complain though, after the stressful week he had... bit of female company could have been the cure, maybe he was able to do some kind of conversation and focus his mind elsewhere and not on her body... but rather on her brain.

...

The soft breeze started to hit them harder, the walk was going well and the small talk was pretty enjoyable, they talked about lots... changing from deep to light, from silly to serious, from sad to happy.

Cillian was really enjoying her presence, her mature thoughts and her friendly personality. His stress and tension could have flown away if it was for her.... moving lips.

Soft looking, pinkish due to the lipstick she had on and very kissable... the actor could clearly imagine them wrapped around his cock. Wetting it all with her warm mouth as her lips would have painted his bases of that pink— pink, he repeated in his head as his Adam's apple bobbed. He needed to change topic quickly and stop focusing on her goddamn lips.

"What do you think of Barbenheimer?" The Irishman asked, slapping himself mentally for the question.

Just keep walking, Cillian, focus on walking... don't look at her... and her pretty blouse that was getting opened by the wind, exposing bit more of her neckline as it moved the fabric of her shirt as well. Damn wind.

He had reached a point where he couldn't even focus on her speaking, the feeling of being on the edge was getting harder as time passed... he was sure that a little push would have made him completely loose his rational thoughts. And then that's when Scout, his dog, decided to just sprint to reach something... making him loose the lazy grip he had on the leash and make the young woman run after him.

Cillian went quickly after them, his mind trying to stay in focus as he saw her skirt rise up at every bounce she did to snatch the leash for him before anything bad could happen. He was quite sure now that she was hiding a pretty revealing underwear under that modest outfit she was wearing.

"There you go, good boy" her soft voice praised as she kneeled down to pet the dog and take the leash, too busy snuggling with him to notice Cillian's gaze on her bouncing breasts.

She wasn't wearing a bra, he cursed under his breath again, his body too warm because of the jogging, his heart drumming harder against his chest as he tried to calm down and focusing on his breathing... and not her heavy.. panting and sexy one.

When the young woman stood back up and brushed her smaller hand against his to give him the leash... Cillian's self-control reached the end

"Thank you" he murmured in a more low tone as his body started to react at his impulses.

By the way her eyes kept shining as she looked at him, he knew that with a bit of pressure he could have made her do whatever he wanted... but was it really what he wanted? He pondered as his feet made him change the route he normally took when out with Scout, leading the oblivious young woman in a dark alley.

"I agree, things are pretty different nowadays" the older actor commented as he mentioned the conversation they were having, his heart beating even faster as he thought quickly of a plan.

Was he really going to take advantage of that kind fan of him? Was he really that desperate and frustrated?

Questions kept filling his head as his eyes remained on the wet street, lost in thoughts

"Do you do this path every day?" Y/n's voice interrupted the silence, making his baby blue eyes look back at her.

Yes, he was.

"Mhhm.. but I take usually the parallel street" he informed her while looking around to be sure that they were alone. The oblivious and curious look on her pretty face was making him harder than ever, making the uncomfortable feeling become a painful one now.

As soon as the Irishman was sure that there was Noone around he let go casually of the leash, whistling to order something to Scout who... after giving a look at his master headed in a run towards the beginning of the alley, sitting there as a guard. Watching around to warn Cillian if someone would have approached.

A glance at his black dog and he acted, not letting Y/n even questioning him before pressed his plumpy lips against hers as the dark swallowed them more now that her body was pressed against the cold and humid wall.

His big hands moved eargerly to her face and neck to keep her tilted like he wanted so to facilitate the kiss he was stealing.

Her neck was soft and tempting, he could easily leave a mark if he wanted but he didn't had so much time.. so he had to take things faster than he hoped.

As the kiss broke he inhaled deeply, letting his nose brush against hers as his thumbs caressed her skin... he didn't dare to open his eyes and meet her probably wide eyes and swollen lips... his cock was already throbbing and if he did that small action he was sure that the seed he was hoping to shoot in her would have just soiled his trousers.

"Damn, darling" Cillian cursed softly, licking his lips before diving down to kiss her neck while pressing his body against hers in an attempt of finding some friction and swallow her in his lust.. caging her body against the bricks even more.

"Do you want to help me, dear?" he asked softly, stroking her neck slowly as his piercing eyes now watched her carefully, noticing the glimpse of insecurity that was in her wide beautiful eyes

"Bet you want to, hm? Or I could just go to another fan of mine. Bet they would die to have a chance like this, darling... acting less ungrateful than you" he softly threatened in his low voice. His irish accent echoing in her head as he manipulated her young mind.

Of course she wanted to help him, he was her idol and favourite actor of all times... she couldn't really risk it and watch his disappointment towards her. She didn't wanted to be faced by his oh-so famous judgy face.

But the embarrassment and hesitance were there as well... she had a dignity and couldn't just allow him to use her like that, right?

Of course, it was something she dreamed about but was she really ready for that? She didn't even try casual sex in her lige yet. But she sure didn't want him to go to another fangirl and his intense gaze was like a poker face to her... so she was stuck on not knowing whatever he was telling the truth or not.

"I don't have the whole day, darling" Cillian's low voice commented as his gaze shifted towards the spot where his dog was still sitting.

Y/n glances at him again, gulping while trying to silence the battles in her head. She really didn't know what to do, what if it wasn't like he expected or if it would turn out to be a mistake.

"Ok!... Y-Yes, I-I want to help you, Mr. Murphy" Y/n stammered out when the actor started to move away from her.

Her heart beated hard against her chest, making her breath get caught in her throat as her hands started to sweat when he hummed and undoed his pants, pulling out his hard cock without hesitation or patience.

"That's a good girl, get on your knees" his low voice ordered before he moved slowly his tip against her lips, painting them with his pre-cum as he thrusted slightly forward to let them wrap around his red tip.

"That's it... suck" Cillian's voice ordered, allowing to be teased a bit before snapping his hips forward, making her hit her head against the wall and gag around his lenght. "Fuck, love" he cursed with a growl, letting her adjust to him before starting to fuck her mouth till he nearly reached his edge.

The actor's first intention was to just burry his cock deep in her throat and cum there but as his icy eyes wandered down to her kneeled form... and stopped on her clinging thighs the need to feel her young cunt around him became a must.

With a slow motion he moved away from her, letting her breath properly as she dried her spit while catching her breath. Tears already adorning her cheeks... she really was beautiful, the man repeated to himself as a mocking coo left him.

His big hands strokes the soft flesh of her cheeks as he made her get up so that he could smash his lips back against hers, forcing a hungry, toothy kiss that luckily slowed down when she reciprocated it.

Her bare leg was hooked up at his narrow hip, allowing his cock to brush her clothed folds with his help.

He was right... she really was wearing some thing revealing panties, arousing and innocent enough to make him just want to fuck her with them on. His thick finger made its way towards her entrance, curling around the fabric to move it with ease so that it was now half-hugging his lenght... allowing her folds to wet his cock while the panties squeezed it as he thrusted.

His leaking tip kept smearing his pre-cum on her spot skin and onto the fabric of her skirt each time it touched it. The hardness of it managed to gift some attention to her clit as well while his thrusts sped up.

Cillian could feel her juices dripping from his cock down to his balls and the underwear squeeze harder around him now that he was moving them in a difference pace.

It didn't took him much to reach his own peak, his body was quickly shaking and limp against her as his warm cum decorated her clothes. He was too desperate to care or to stop himself so that he could have used her pussy to pleasure him a bit more... not that he complained. He was fully satisfied, sweat was running down his forehead as he breathed heavily against her shoulder as he slowly got down his peak, his thrusts slowing down till he was too overstimulated to receive any further touch.

"Darling... can I keep your panties?... So that I can wash them and give them back to you clean, of course" Cillian casually asked, fixing her hair in a tender manner while brushing slowly his thumb on her swollen lips, watching her panting.

Guess the destiny decided for us... we will meet soon again, darling. Just to give you back your undergarments, of course, he thoughts as he tucked himself back and fixed his clothes, ready to continue the little walk they were having previously.

#cillian fanfic #cillian fic #cillian x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fluff

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bellaxgiornata · 9 months

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Whatever You Want

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: You've been having a difficult year adjusting to your life in Dublin, struggling with a few things that you've kept hidden from Michael so as not to burden him further. Though when he comes home unexpectedly early from a family meeting, you realize he's been reading you better than you'd thought.

Warnings/Tags: light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, soft Michael

a/n: Just a short little comfort fic to wrap up my Comfort Fic Week! Always love me a soft Mikey. Feedback is always appreciated!

Grabbing one of Michael’s shirts from the laundry basket on the bed next to you, you proceeded to fold it, your eyes staring absently out of the bedroom window beside the bed. The sky was overcast today, gray clouds hanging low despite the fact that it wasn’t supposed to rain this morning. Somehow it seemed like the weather was reflecting your mood–or maybe amplifying it.

Hands moving of their own accord, you neatly stacked the now folded shirt on top of the pile of Michael’s other shirts before reaching into the laundry basket and removing another one to fold. Your hands continued to move mechanically as you worked, folding clothing item after clothing item as you removed each one from the basket.

Inevitably your mind began to wander.

Michael had already been gone by the time you'd awoken this morning. He had yet another family meeting to attend early today despite the fact that it was now Sunday. He'd been busy this entire past week taking care of a 'problem' with the family's supplier before spending the rest of the week cleaning up some issues on the business end of things. You’d barely seen him for days now, which wasn’t the usual between the two of you. And although he’d been excited to see you the handful of times you’d both run into each other at home this week, you had been distant.

Admittedly you’d been struggling for this entire past year that you’d officially been living in Dublin. Struggling under the weight of your own family issues that you often kept from Michael–because he already had enough problems to deal with when it came to his family. You’d also been struggling under the pressures of things at work, forced into playing the mediator between the two owners of your company who fought with each other like actual children on a near daily basis. It had been wearing on you for months now, but you yet again never revealed any of this to Michael. He was busy enough as it was, and even though he was nothing but loving and attentive to you when he was home, you knew he had enough on his mind to worry about. So you always greeted him with a smile when you two were together, choosing to shove everything down, down, down until you couldn’t feel it for a bit.

But truthfully? You felt like you were drowning. You missed your family now that you were living abroad in Ireland so you could be with Michael; a feat accomplished with the help of his family–the one good thing they had managed to accomplish for you both when they had fast tracked your visa. But all the health complications back home had you missing your family even more. And you had quickly begun to hate your job with a passion ever since the owners had begun to bicker and fight, leaving you to solve the company's problems. And the office work you were doing wasn't even remotely your dream job, but you knew it wasn't realistic for you to quit just to pursue a dream.

The sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs met your ears, causing your hands to momentarily pause their movements, the shirt partially folded in between them. You could hear the sound of Michael downstairs, opening the closet door and putting away his jacket and shoes. Brows furrowing together, you wondered why he was home so soon.

“Where ya at, love?”

Michael’s voice rang out through the house, the sound of it drowning out the noise in your head–for now. Stacking another shirt of his onto the pile, you turned over your shoulder and called back to him.

“Upstairs, Mikey. Just doing the laundry.”

You grabbed another pair of jeans from the basket, hearing the heavy and tired footfalls of Michael as he made his way up the stairs. As you sorted the pair of pants in your hands with the others, leaning across the bed to reach the pile, you heard Michael making his way across the bedroom before you felt him come up behind you. His arms were soon wrapping around your waist, his nose brushing back and forth against the side of your neck as he let out a pleased hum.

“Missed ya, pet,” he murmured.

Straightening back up, your hands landed on his forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze before you unwrapped them from around you. You felt the way Michael stiffened against the back of you, his face soon drawing away from your neck. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you sent him a brief, tense smile. He took a step back, his eyes narrowing as he studied you.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you back this morning,” you said, turning back towards the bed and reaching a hand into the basket, pulling out another piece of clothing to fold. “The meeting go alright?”

“Yeah, it was grand,” Michael answered distractedly. “Ya alright, love?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out. “Just trying to catch up on laundry. Figured you’d be gone most of the day. Knew you were low on fresh clothes with how busy you’ve been this week. Thought I’d take care of it for you today.”

“Pet, ya know I could’ve done the laundry myself later today,” he told you.

You neatly stacked yet another one of his shirts onto the pile beside you, nodding as you reached your hand into the basket. You drew out the last piece of clothing, about to fold it, but Michael pulled the pair of pants from your hands.

“Hey, stop,” he said softly, catching your eye. “Is somethin’ wrong? Ya haven’t been acting like yourself all week.”

You bit back the urge to point out that he hadn’t actually seen you much this past week. Instead, you sent him another tense smile.

“I’m fine, Mikey,” you said, gesturing to the pants in his hands. “Now can I finish the laundry? I’ve got other things to take care of today.”

Michael drew the pants out of your reach, his dark brows knitting together. His lips thinned along his face as concern washed over his features.

“What other things have ya got to take care of?” he asked.

You sighed in irritation, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance with how he was slowing down your list of chores and errands for the day. Michael certainly helped out with many things around the house, but usually when the Kinsellas came to him to solve a plethora of problems for them, you were left to pick up the slack. Which is exactly what had happened this week on top of everything else you’d been silently dealing with.

“The house needs to be cleaned, Mikey,” you pointed out. “And the kitchen is an absolute disaster. I haven’t even managed to finish working my way through all of the dishes from the other night when Jimmy and Viking decided to eat every last damned thing in the house. Which also means I need to pick up groceries from the market still, and I haven’t even had a chance to sit down to make the list. Not to mention, I still have another two loads of laundry to take care of, so can you please just let me finish?”

A frown pulled the corners of Michael’s lips down, his hazel eyes softening as they held yours. A second later he expelled a rough breath, his shoulders dropping at the movement. When he tossed the unfolded pair of pants onto the bed, your eyes widened in shock. Your mouth opened, ready to chastise him for being so uncharacteristically callous, but he’d so tenderly grabbed your hands and drew you towards himself that the gesture quickly left you stunned and speechless. All you could do was stare in confusion at him as he drew you into himself.

“Forget ‘bout all o' that today,” he told you. “I’ll handle it tomorrow. All of it, I promise.”

“But don’t you have things you need to do?” you asked.

Michael wrapped his arms around your shoulders, one of his hands gently guiding your head to rest against his chest. Reluctantly you allowed it, though you were tense in his embrace, your body unable to relax. You really needed to get these things done because you didn’t feel like grabbing groceries at the market after work tomorrow.

“I’ll take the day off,” he replied. “Handle everythin’ at home. Even have dinner ready for us when ya finish work. Yeah?”

“Mikey, don’t promise me something that you can’t follow through on,” you warned him. “I know how your family is. I know they’re going to–”

“Hey, shh,” he hushed you, one of his hands soothingly running up and down your back. “I’ll tell ‘em no. Not to bother me tomorrow. Doesn’t matter what they say. Ya deserve some help ‘round here. Been takin’ care of everythin’ this past week–everythin’ this past year, really. And I wanna show ya that I appreciate it, love.”

“It’s not a big deal, I can handle it,” you told him, the lie almost automatic.

You felt him shift above you, resting his cheek against the top of your head. His hand continued to soothingly run the length of your back over and over, the calming feel of it slowly easing the tension in your muscles.

“I can tell ya have been stressed, pet,” Michael murmured. “Can see it on your face. Somethin’s been goin’ on with ya. It has me worried.”

Nervously your tongue slipped out, wetting your lips. You couldn’t believe he’d picked up on anything being off with you. You thought you’d been hiding everything from him so well. And you certainly didn’t need him worrying about you, too.

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

“Don’t lie to me,” Michael said, voice firm but not angry. “I know ya too well, love. I know ya aren’t alright.”

Turning your head, you buried your face into Michael’s chest, breathing in the scent of him. He smelled faintly like his leather jacket and gasoline, probably from riding his motorcycle this morning to the family meeting. Just beneath the scent of both of those you could smell the bit of his soap that always seemed to linger on his skin. It was something with sandalwood–you knew that because the nights he’d be out working a job and not coming home to you, you’d purposely shower with his soap. Just to feel like he was still there in bed with you. You couldn’t fall asleep otherwise.

“Tell ya what,” Michael said, breaking the silence that had fallen. “How ‘bout I take ya for coffee this mornin’? Your favorite shop. Then we can visit that little bookstore ya love so much. The one just on the corner? I’ll buy ya whatever ya want.”

A small smile slipped onto your lips and you reluctantly withdrew your face from where it had been buried against Michael’s chest, his own head withdrawing itself from the top of yours. Looking up at him, he was smiling warmly down at you, his eyes full of affection and love.

“Yeah?” you asked him softly.

“Buy ya the whole damn store if ya want,” he said, tone light and teasing as he grinned back at you. “And ya know I would, love. ‘S’not like I don’t have the money.”

“Okay,” you answered slowly, your attention shifting back to the laundry on the bed. “As long as you really will have time to take care of everything tomorrow though. Because I have to–”

Michael’s hand gently cupping your cheek and turning your face back towards him quickly quieted you. That warm smile was back on his face, the brightness of it reaching his eyes.

“Go get ready,” he ordered. “I’ll finish the rest of this. And the other stuff I’ll do tomorrow. Promise. Forget ‘bout it already, yeah? Just go take a few minutes for yourself.” His smile briefly faltered as he nervously added, “Then maybe afterwards ya can tell me ‘bout what’s been goin’ on? Ya keep lockin’ me out, pet, and I really wish ya would let me in. I want to help.”

“You just–just always have so much going on, Mikey,” you told him softly. “You don’t need my shit, too.”

“Hey,” he said firmly, his eyes narrowing as he lowered his face towards yours. “It isn’t shit, ya hear me? Ya matter to me. More than ya know. Don’t brush yourself off when it comes to me, love, alright? Talk to me. I’m beggin’ ya.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you slowly nodded. “Okay,” you agreed. “Later, I will.”

“Good,” he replied, gesturing his head towards the bathroom as a smile curved his lips upwards. “Now get your adorable arse ready. ‘Cause I wanna spoil my girl today. I’ll take care of the rest o’ the laundry.”

Feeling giddy at the prospect of having a day to spend where it was just you and Michael, grabbing coffee and buying books, you spun on your heel without further encouragement, hurrying your way to the bathroom to get ready.

°•°•°•°•°•°

You hummed out a curious noise, skimming over the summary on the back of the book in your hands for the second time. Behind you, you heard Michael huff out an amused, light laugh. The sound caught your attention and you looked up from the back cover, eyeing Michael’s smiling face curiously from his place beside you. He held up the small stack of books in his hands, gesturing his head towards the one you were still holding.

“Add it to the pile, love,” he urged. “Ya know ya want to. I can see it on your face with the way you’re lookin’ at it.”

Rolling your eyes you held out the book, a grin on your lips as you added it onto the stack Michael was holding. He shot you a flirtatious wink that only had you grinning wider, but when your eyes landed on the clock on the wall behind him, the grin faded. Surprise washed over you instead, a pang of guilt hitting you instantly.

“Why didn’t you tell me we’d been here for over two hours already?” you exclaimed, wide eyes landing back on Michael. “I’m so sorry, Mikey. I didn’t mean to be here so long!”

Michael only laughed, shaking his head back at you. “Pet, I told ya this mornin’ like I told ya over coffee before we came here–take as much time here as ya want. Buy whatever ya want. I’ve seen how much ya have been workin’ your arse off at that office this year. I know ya haven’t been goin’ shoppin’ or out to dinners with your friends as much lately.” Something like guilt spread across his face as he continued. “And I–I know I haven’t been ‘round as much the past few months, what with everythin’ goin’ on with the family. But I wanna change that. Startin’ today. Besides,” he said, suddenly looking a little shy, “I could honestly spend my day watchin’ the way ya wander ‘round in a bookstore. The way your face lights up when ya find a book–" he paused, that shy smile still on his mouth directed at you, "–the only other time ya look like that is when you’re lookin’ at me," he finished softly.

“Because you make me happy,” you told him, the grin returning to your lips.

“I know,” he replied with a nod.

“And coffee also makes me happy,” you added before gesturing a hand at the shelf beside you. “So do books. Best way to relieve stress is with a good book and some coffee.”

Michael chuckled, nodding his head even more as his own smile widened. "Exactly why I suggested gettin' coffee before buyin' books, love."

The corner of his lips twitched before his expression changed to something serious, his lips thinning as he shifted his weight back and forth on his feet, looking like he wanted to say something else. You hadn’t missed the shift in his mood as you curiously eyed him in return, wondering what was now suddenly on his mind.

"How has work been?" he asked carefully. "Ya seem stressed more than usual lately. Been worried 'bout ya."

Expelling a sigh at the topic change, you turned and made your way out of the aisle of books you both were in, searching for another one in particular as you mulled over his question. Michael followed closely behind you, still carrying the stack of your books in his arms as he walked.

"It's been difficult this year," you admitted slowly, eyes scanning the aisles as you looked at the different genre signs hanging above them. "I can't stand it lately, if I'm being honest," you finally confessed. "My bosses literally bicker in every meeting I have with them and I'm always trapped playing their mediator, always left cleaning up the company problems they don’t even deal with." Hands curling into fists at your sides, you could feel your irritation returning at the thought of work tomorrow. "They don't even talk about work most of the time anymore, either. I swear, they're going to run their business into the ground if they keep it up."

"Then quit."

You abruptly stopped in front of the aisle you'd been looking for at his blunt suggestion. Turning swiftly on your heel, you looked back at Michael in confusion and shock.

" Quit ?" you asked him in disbelief.

He shrugged easily. "Yeah," he answered. "Quit. You've always hated it there and now it's upsettin' ya. So quit. 'S'not like ya need the money. Ya know I'll take care of ya."

"Mikey," you said, pulling a face, "I'm not going to just sit at home and be some–" you waved a hand through the air, "–trophy wife. Or–or girlfriend or whatever," you awkwardly added when Michael’s smile grew at your word choice. "I like feeling productive."

"Your choice, love, but I happen to think ya would make a fine trophy wife," he playfully teased, shooting you another wink. "But ya know I've got ya. So quit. Find somethin' ya like. Because I know that's not what you're passionate 'bout."

With a huff you turned, focusing back on the aisle before you. You stepped into it, eyeing the books on the shelves as you looked for one in particular.

"Say it like it's that easy," you muttered, eyes scanning the various titles.

"It is," Michael pressed. "Give 'em your notice tomorrow. Quit. Do what you're passionate about. Because I know you've been dying to do photography instead. And you're damn good at it, love. And I know ya been dyin' to work for yourself.”

Chewing your lip, you let his suggestion settle in your mind. He was right, you did want to do photography. You'd been talking about it since you'd first met him. And you had been dying to work for yourself, especially with how your bosses had been this past year. It would be nice to do something you were actually passionate about, and you did know that Michael would take care of you while you started up the business–he'd already told you he wanted to marry you. He certainly wasn’t planning to go anywhere.

You hummed out a noise, your hand reaching out and pulling the book you'd been looking for off of the shelf. "Alright," you told him, turning around and placing the book on the stack in his hands. "I'll quit tomorrow," you told him. "You're right, photography is my passion. And if you're going to push me–"

"I absolutely insist ya do, love," he cut you off.

"Alright," you repeated, nodding your head. "I'll do it."

Michael's smile grew even wider, the warmth of it reaching his eyes as they fondly gazed back at you. You couldn’t fight the smile on your own face knowing that you’d never get over how lucky you were to have met him–or how handsome he looked when he smiled at you like that.

Eventually Michael's eyes curiously glanced down to the book you'd so quickly placed onto the pile he was carrying. A look of confusion crossed his face, brows drawing together as he looked back up at you.

"One Hundred Years of Solitude?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said, your smile turning cheeky as you made your way out of the aisle and over towards the register. "It's for you. About time you read something that wasn't a Steinbeck, babe."

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #michael kinsella fluff #bellas comfort fic week #kin amc

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eretzyisrael · 1 month

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Good News From Israel

Israel's Good News Newsletter to 26th May 24

In the 26th May 24 edition of Israel’s good news, the highlights include:

Israeli technology helps Irish doctors early-diagnose potentially fatal diseases.

Another female designer of Israeli missile defense systems.

200 Israeli hi-tech engineers donate their time to develop life-saving solutions.

An Israeli startup removes a greenhouse gas far more potent than CO2.

The first Israeli auto-industry company to set up a factory in India.