#rte kin

[mattzipmua]

CHARLIE COX as MICHAEL KINSELLA

RTE KIN 2.05

[yarrystyleeza]

I made this

[shelikesorchids-archive]

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Warnings: None, just tooth rotting fluff.

Author's Note: Just a lil thing I wrote for my Sweater Weather Challenge! I combined the prompts "Your hands are cold" and "Don't move, you're warm". We appreciate the hell out of Mikey's chest hair in this house!!!!

Word count: Just over 700

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The walk from your office back to Michael’s flat wasn’t far, but it was far enough that you cursed yourself for leaving your gloves behind. The night air was bitterly cold, and the pockets of your coat just weren’t cutting it. By the time you reached the front door, your hands were almost numb from the cold, so you shook them out and rubbed them together in an attempt to get the blood flowing to your fingers again. 

“Mikey, I’m home, love! Where are ya?” you called out.

“M’upstairs!” he replied. 

You hung up your coat and your scarf and made your way upstairs and to the bedroom, where you found Michael in bed with his shirt off, reading a book. He sat the book to the side with a soft smile on his face, and opened his arms to welcome you home. You toed off your shoes and sidled up next to him to kiss him, and he recoiled slightly when you put your hand on his scruffy cheek. 

“Argh, Mikey! I thought ya’d be happy to see me!” you pouted. 

“I am happy to see ya, but yer hands are cold! C’mere and let me warm ‘em up.” 

He gently took your hands in his and placed them on his bare chest, letting his body heat get your blood flowing again. You could feel his heart beating steadily under your palms, and you leaned over to tuck your head in the crook of his neck. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you kept your hands on his chest. You felt a bit of a shiver from him as your cold nose came into contact with his bare skin, but he just held you closer and rubbed your back to warm you up. 

“Sorry I had to work late, but I’m home now, love,” you whispered. 

“Yeah, yer home now,” he hummed in response before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You melted into his hold, and gently traced patterns with your fingertips on his chest, twirling his chest hair around your fingers. Michael chuckled softly as you slid your head down to rest on his chest, nuzzling it with your still cold nose. 

“What are ya doin’, pet?” he asked with a laugh. 

“Yer so warm, Mikey. Must be this fuzz ya got on ya,” you replied as you stroked his chest.

He laughed again as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, and you burrowed your face further into his chest. You let out a sigh of contentment as you finally felt the blood start to return to your hands and your nose and you inhaled Michael’s scent. He didn’t usually wear cologne, but the smell of his deodorant and soap gave him a natural, musky smell that you always found comfort in. You often wore his t-shirts and his sweaters when he was away, but having the real thing was always the best. Michael slowly scooted down on the bed so he was laying on his back, and he carefully moved you with him so that you were laying on his chest. He pulled the comforter up over the both of you, as you continued playing with his chest hair and listening to the steady thump of his heart. You worried about him quite a bit, but times like this where you were surrounded in the solid comfort of him made you feel like things might just be alright after all. 

You were so relaxed in his embrace and close to sleep when you felt Michael try to gently roll you over. 

“No! Don’t move, yer warm,” you huffed out as you rolled back over and wrapped yourself back around him.

“I was just gonna get up and make some tea, pet. I thought ya may wanna get out of those work clothes, too.” 

You pouted as you sat up and whined, “Okay, fine. But we’ll continue this when ya get back.” 

Michael cupped your cheek with his hand and gently kissed you before he threw back the covers and got up to go make you both some tea. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched you get up and begin to undress, and he called out to you from the doorway of the bedroom, “Of course, love. Ya may have cold hands, but ya’ve got a warm heart.” 

[realfernmayo]

The Michael Kinsella brainrot is oh so very real.

But, can you blame me?!

I want him for Christmas. I promise I have been very good this year.

[rocketyoyo]

[dixiec89]

Yo guys, check out these pics released by RTE One on Insta

[empathist]

(x)

[leaving-fragments]

started watching kin and cried twice just two episodes in?? i was not expecting this to be an emotional show

[mattmurdocksstarlight]

I’ve missed this series so much❤️❤️

Safe Haven [Chapter Fourteen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full story summary and masterlist of chapters for Safe Haven here.]

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

Word Count: 4.6k

a/n: This chapter will certainly leave you wanting more, I'll say that much. Feedback is always appreciated!

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

Fingers flying across the keyboard of your laptop, you sat at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of hot coffee beside you. You’d woken up just before Megan had disappeared for her shift at the hospital and settled down to write shortly after. So far your day was wide open and there wasn’t much else for you to do but focus on your work. 

For the past couple of days that’s what you’d been doing–focusing on your writing. You had not managed to see Michael beyond the occasional fortuitous meeting at your bedroom windows. You hadn’t even run into him out in the back garden the few times you’d sat out there to work. Though he had sent you a few text messages on and off over the past two days. He’d repeatedly apologized for being so busy and promised that he still planned to make you dinner sometime this week as an apology for the situation with Amanda. 

You were aware that he was still dealing with the fallout from the shooting the previous week. You also knew he was still dealing with the bounties on his and his families’ heads while they struggled to continue to run their very illegal business. And now the Garda were permanently parked at the end of the street for twenty-four hour safety measures and you didn't need Michael to tell you that they were only further complicating matters for the Kinsellas. 

On top of all of that, you knew he had also mentioned that he had an appointment today for a CT scan to hopefully figure out what was going on with his sudden seizure episodes. Michael had told you that his brother was taking him to the appointment when he’d messaged you this morning. You’d been on edge ever since his text this though, waiting for him to message you back when he’d made it home safe afterwards. You had asked him to let you know because you’d been worried, even if you felt like an absolute idiot asking him to let you know when he’d gotten home safe. But you knew it was dangerous for any of them to be out of the house right now with the bounties on their heads–the memory of leaving the coffee shop with him the other day was still fresh in your mind. If you read between the lines of the few things Michael had told you, you’d easily gathered that they were all dead men walking.

But despite how hard you really did try not to let it bother you that you’d barely seen Michael the past few days, knowing he genuinely had a lot going on, you admittedly still missed him. You wished he’d just stop by, even for a few minutes, or that he’d invite you over for a short bit in the evening. Even just five minutes to see him–just to feel his arms around you–would have been enough for you. You had a feeling he could use the brief break from the stress of everything he had going on, and you certainly could use some comfort with how worried you'd been over the strange silence from Victor.

It didn’t help that you found yourself feeling lonely with your sister constantly off at the hospital for work. And while you tried to remind yourself that you had far more human connection here in Dublin over the past few weeks than you’d had in the couple of years that you’d been on the run, all that did was make things worse. Because you’d found yourself growing accustomed to not being alone since you’d been here. You’d found yourself looking forward to more than just the phone calls from Angela. But you knew that was dangerous because it meant you were growing attached–to this city and the people here–which would make needing to run in the future that much harder.

And all that alone time you'd had lately after Michael had apologized to you had also given you time to feel guilty. Guilty for knowing the personal things about him that you had dug up the other week when Birdy had been threatening you. You still hadn’t known how to bring it up to him, but you felt like you needed to tell him that you knew. Because it wasn’t right that you knew the reason he’d gone to prison or that you knew he had a daughter who you’d thought you’d seen the other day outside his house while Michael still had absolutely no idea. Though you were afraid to tell him considering just how personal the information was. You didn’t think he would take the news well. But the longer you kept it in, the worse you figured it would be.

With a sigh you glanced over at your coffee cup beside your laptop, feeling a headache coming on as your thoughts began to distract you from your writing. Picking up the mug, you drew it to your mouth for a long drink. Desperately you wished it would actually succeed at making you feel awake this morning. While you drank down the comforting liquid, movement out of the kitchen window just beside you caught your eye and you glanced up, spotting Birdy making her way up your sister’s driveway with what looked like the mail in her hand. 

Slowly you set the mug back down on the table, watching as Birdy sent you a friendly wave through the window. Your eyes narrowed as you noticed the strained smile on her face, watching as she neared the door. Frowning, you closed your laptop before rising from the kitchen chair, making your way out of the kitchen and over to the front door. Birdy had knocked mere moments before you unlocked it, swinging it open to reveal that tense expression on her face even more clearly.

“G’mornin’ dear,” Birdy greeted, raising her hand that had been holding the stack of your sister’s mail. “I think we need to have a little chat this mornin’.”

Your frown only deepened on your face at her words. What could she possibly need to chat with you about and why the hell was she snooping through Megan’s mail? Opening the door wider, you moved aside and watched as she stepped into the house. Closing the door behind her, entirely baffled as to what she was up to, you followed behind her as she made her way straight to the kitchen. 

Entering the kitchen yourself, you watched as Birdy tossed the few letters in her hand onto the kitchen island. She stalked around to the other side of it, her piercing blue eyes focused on you as she pulled her purse from her shoulder, setting it onto the countertop beside the stack of mail. Both of her hands came down to rest against the island, her eyes silently raking you over.

“Why are you going through my sister’s mail, Birdy?” you asked her, breaking the silence. “I’m guessing that’s still illegal here in Ireland, isn’t it?”

Birdy’s eyes only further narrowed at you in return. “That’s the least of my worries, dear. And truthfully the least of yours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned her.

“Have ya even taken a look at what’s there, dear?” she asked, her head gesturing towards the pile of mail on the countertop.

“What? Why?” you asked. “I don’t get mail here, Birdy. No one even knows where I’m–”

You stopped mid-sentence when your focus shifted down towards the pile, the letter on the top of the stack immediately catching your eye. There was no postage on it. As if someone had slipped it in the letterbox themselves. But what was alarming was what was messily drawn on the envelope. In the corner of it there was a small, upside down crucifix with a serpent wrapped around it. You felt the blood immediately drain from your face, your entire body freezing on the spot as fear struck you like ice in your veins.

“What is that doing in with the mail?” you whispered, eyes glued to the symbol.

“That’s what I was curious ‘bout,” Birdy replied. “Y’see, I saw someone lingerin’ out front of your sister’s house quite early this mornin’. Dressed in a dark sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. Saw them slip what I’m presumin’ is that–” she continued, gesturing at the letter, “–into the letterbox with the post. I was curious.”

Panic shot through you at her words, your eyes going wide as you glanced up at Birdy. “I’m not–not with them, Birdy,” you told her quickly, shaking your head. “I wasn’t lying to you. I’m not helping them with anything.”

Birdy sent you an apologetic smile, her expression softening. “I know that, dear,” she told you gently. “What I’m concerned ‘bout is how they know you’re here and why they’re slippin’ ya letters.”

“I don’t know,” you breathed out, your attention returning to the letter. “I don’t know.”

Silence fell over the pair of you, your heart feeling like it was pounding away in your chest. You could feel a small tremble beginning in your hands. Anxiously you wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging your body tight as if that would help stop the shaking. You didn’t want to have a panic attack, not here in front of Birdy. 

“Aren’t ya goin’ to open it, Grace?” she asked. 

“What if–if it’s him?” you whispered, tears stinging at your eyes. “What if he’s found me already? Is just messing with me?”

“Well ya won’t know if ya don’ open it,” Birdy pointed out.

Nervously chewing the inside of your cheek, you hesitantly reached a hand out towards the kitchen island. Very slowly you slipped the letter off the top of the stack of mail, the shake in your hand entirely visible as you did. You could feel the weight of Birdy’s eyes on you as you brought the letter towards yourself, flipping it over and staring at the sealed back. 

You didn’t want to open this. You didn’t know what was inside, but there was no way it was anything good. On top of that, you didn’t know how someone from the Serpents had found you here at your sister’s place, but you didn’t like it. The knowledge made your skin crawl.

But Birdy was right. You wouldn’t know anything if you didn’t just open the damn letter.

With a sharp exhale, you slipped a finger underneath the seal, tearing it open easily. Holding your breath, you reached inside and pulled a small slip of paper from out of the envelope. As your eyes scanned it over, you weren’t surprised to see there was barely much written on it. You didn’t recognize the handwriting sloppily scrawled along it, either. 

For a minute you read the words over and over, your mind racing as that panicked feeling only further took hold of you. Your hands were shaking a little harder as the weight of the message settled on you, tears welling in your eyes and blurring the writing.

“Well,” Birdy prompted impatiently, “what’s it say?”

"They want me to meet with them," you answered quietly. "Tonight."

A dark look crossed Birdy’s face as she took a step towards you. "Who?" she asked.

You shrugged a shoulder, a tear spilling down your cheek. "I don't know," you replied, voice breaking. "The Serpent’s charter in Cork, I imagine."

Birdy’s shoulders squared, her expression darkening further. "Obviously ya aren't goin'," she stated.

"I don't have a choice," you whispered back.

“O’course ya have a choice,” she said firmly.

You shook your head, holding the paper out towards her. Birdy reached out, quickly grabbing the slip of paper from your hand. You watched quietly as her eyes darted across the page rapidly, and then you watched as she reread the words a few times herself. Once again your arms wrapped around yourself, your entire body slowly beginning to shake.

"They know who I am," you whispered. "If I don't go, they're going to tell Victor that I'm–I'm here. And I can't have that." Your fingers clutched at the sweater you were wearing, clinging desperately to the fabric like it was a lifeline. "My only options are to meet them or to run, Birdy.”

Her eyes looked up from the letter in her hand, that piercing stare of hers landing on you. 

“Ya have more options than that, love,” she pointed out.

“No,” you disagreed, shaking your head. “I can’t ask any of you to help me with this. I won’t ,” you stated. “Besides, it’s not safe for any of you to help. It’s not safe for Michael to help. Eamon wants him dead, right? He can’t be out traveling to Cork dealing with the Serpents or showing up with me to that meeting. He’d be a dead man and you know that.”

“So what? Ya are just goin’ to run?” Birdy questioned.

Your gaze dropped down to the island countertop, your lips pressing firmly together as you thought. Admittedly your first instinct was screaming at you to do exactly that. To get out of here while you were still breathing. Every warning bell was going off in your head right now. That meeting screamed danger. Them knowing who and where you were screamed danger. But that was what made running now an impossible choice, one you couldn’t do.

“If I run,” you began slowly, staring at the countertop as another tear slipped down your cheek, “they'll most likely tell Victor I was here. And he’ll be led straight to this very house. To my–my sister ." You shook your head firmly, eyes flying up and holding Birdy’s stare. "And I can't have that, Birdy."

Across from the kitchen island, you watched as Birdy sighed in resignation. A second later her head tilted to the side, eyeing you for a moment longer in silence.

“So you’ve decided then, have ya?” she asked. “Made up your mind to go?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you replied. “There’s really only one option I have.”

“Well then,” she continued, her attention shifting down to her purse.

You watched in silence as she unsnapped the bag, both of her hands reaching inside. Brows drawing together in confusion, you watched as her hands pulled something wrapped in what looked like a scarf out of her bag. She cradled it gently in her palms as she gingerly lowered it to the countertop. Gradually she pulled the dark material back, and your eyebrows shot up high onto your forehead at the sight of a gun. 

Birdy’s eyes slowly shifted back up towards yours. There was a small, almost dangerous smile on her lips. 

“I told ya I’d get ya a gun, Grace,” she said. “And I figured if there was someone spyin’ on your house like that, ya could use one now rather than later. But if ya are goin’ to meet the bastards head on, ya might want a little protection of your own, dear. Ya said ya know how to use one, yeah?”

Swallowing hard, your eyes still glued to the gun, you nodded. Your heart was thudding even harder in your chest at the sight of it just lying there on the kitchen island. You certainly knew how to use one, but having the ability to use it on someone–to use it with the intention to kill–was another story.

Birdy slowly slid the gun towards you along the counter, your pulse jumping when it was sitting innocently there just in front of you. Fingers digging into your skin through your sweater with how tight you were hugging your arms around yourself, your eyes remained fixed on the weapon.

“Ya should bring it with ya tonight,” Birdy told you. “And ya should let me set it up with Dotser to bring ya to this meetin’. Ya shouldn’ go alone.”

Shaking your head quickly, your attention returned back to her. “No, Birdy. You read the note. It said to come alone,” you replied. “I can’t show up with anyone. They won’t be fucking around, whatever it is they want. And if one of your men are with me, it might just cause more trouble for your family. So no.”

Birdy’s eyes narrowed back at you, her arms slowly crossing themselves over her chest. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment. “He won’t come with ya to the meetin’, but he’ll bring ya and bring ya back home after. Ya need a safe way there and back, anyway. I’ll have him pick ya up a couple o’ blocks from here and drop ya off near the meetin’ place.” She leaned forward towards you, her body language meant to be intimidating. “And ‘no’ isn’t an option here, dear.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you eyed her for a long moment. She ultimately had a point. You weren’t about to walk or take a taxi all the way out to meet whoever it was that had dropped that letter in your sister’s letterbox, and it’s not like you had a car and a driver’s license in Ireland, either. Your options were quite limited.

“Fine,” you relented. 

“Good,” she replied. “And when Dotser drops ya off home after, I want ya to meet with Frank and I back at my house before ya head on home. If there’s trouble on our doorstep, I think we ought to know ‘bout it.”

“Alright,” you agreed slowly.

“And I think it goes without sayin’, love, but ya shouldn’ mention a thing to Mikey ‘bout any o’ this,” Birdy warned you. “‘Bout the gun I gave ya or this meetin’ tonight. No doubt he’d be rushin’ in guns blazin’ and puttin’ himself in a heap o’ danger if he knew. And like ya said, it isn’ safe for him to be out.”

Your stomach knotted uncomfortably at her words. Just more lies and secrets to keep from him. You didn’t like it, but she had a point. With the way he came rushing over to your sister’s house, from her retelling of the night you’d gotten drunk and she’d found you a bloody mess in the bathroom, you knew Michael would refuse to let you go to that meeting. You also had a strong feeling he’d go in your stead, probably making threats that would only end up getting him shot.

“I won’t tell him,” you promised her quietly. “You’re right. He’d only throw himself in harm’s way without a second thought to himself. And it’s not safe for him to go–to the meeting or out in general. So I won’t tell him. Because I won’t have him dying for me.” 

A slow smile gradually drew itself across Birdy’s lips as she stared back at you. The look of something like pride was clear on her face. Her expression only confused you until she’d spoken again.

“I like ya, Grace,” she admitted. “You’re a strong one. Smart, too. You truly make quite the match for my Michael.”

If you weren’t so struck by fear about how your evening was about to play out later, you might’ve felt something more at her words. But as of the moment, you were currently struggling to keep yourself together. Because you were terrified about this meeting tonight, unsure what was to come of it. You didn’t know anyone from the charter in Cork so you didn’t know what to expect, and you certainly didn’t have a clue about why they’d wanted to meet you instead of just telling Victor you were here. What could they possibly want?

Across from the kitchen island, Birdy closed her purse back up before slipping the strap of it over her shoulder. She made her way around the counter, stopping just before you. Both of her hands came out, landing on your shoulders and giving them a reassuring squeeze as she held your gaze.

“You’ll be alrigh’, dear,” she promised you. “Don’t let them see your fear. And bring the gun. Don’t be afraid to use it if ya have to. We’ll figure it all out after if ya do end up needin’ it.”

Mouth feeling like it had long gone dry, you nodded in response. You didn’t know what to even say to that. With the approving smile still on her face, she squeezed your shoulders firmly before she released them, turning and making her way out of the kitchen to leave.

“I’ll text ya the details for Dotser to drive ya later,” she called back to you. “And make sure ya come and see Frank and I afterwards, dear. I’m sure there’ll be some things for us to discuss.”

You stood there rooted to the kitchen, your eyes following her retreating form until it disappeared down the hallway. A moment later you heard the front door open and close before your focus slid over to the kitchen window, watching as Birdy made her way down the driveway. When she reached the end of it and turned past the stone fence, your eyes slowly dropped down to the gun still lying on the dark blue scarf.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Your hands were stuffed into the pockets of your green parka as you made your way down your sister’s driveway. Her shift at the hospital would be finishing soon so you’d sent her a text a little bit ago, not wanting her to wonder where you’d gone when she arrived back home. Of course you lied and told her you were going to a coffee shop that was open late, suddenly struck with some writing inspiration that needed the ‘right vibe.’ You figured she’d buy the bullshit line well enough not to question it.

In actuality, you were on your way down the street and then over two more blocks to meet Dotser before he took you to meet the Serpent who’d left you that note. According to the brief bit of information Birdy had given you about Dotser, he worked for the Kinsellas’ and was quite personally trusted by Frank himself–who you were incredibly nervous about meeting later tonight after this meeting. 

Assuming you survived it, of course. 

As you reached the end of the driveway, you turned left. Jaw clenching tight, you became very aware of the cool metal of the gun in your parka pocket as your eyes landed on the Garda car at the end of the street. It certainly wouldn’t be good for you if they stopped you and found a gun in your jacket. 

You continued on, trying hard to act casual, but you’d barely made it halfway past Michael’s driveway before you heard him call out to you. Instantly your heart flew up into your throat, surprise washing over you. Head whipping in the direction of his voice, you saw he’d been unlocking his front door before spotting you. He’d turned around and was heading towards you now, a tired smile drawing itself across his mouth. Stopping in your tracks as your heart hammered nervously away in your chest, you smiled back at him.

You’d been missing him over the last few days, desperate for a few minutes in person with him, but right now you’d wished you’d ran into anyone else but him. You were terrified he might see through you or that you might accidentally give something away. Because you were certain if Michael had any inkling about what was going on, he’d be rushing down to that meeting armed himself.

“What’re ya doin’ out so late?” he asked as he neared you.

“I–I was just going on a bit of a walk,” you answered awkwardly, hands curling into fists in your parka pockets. “Just needed a little air, you know?”

Michael’s smile widened a little further. “Would ya like some company? I haven’ seen ya in a bit,” he replied.

“Oh, uh, well I was actually hoping to sort of…think about some plot things? For my book?” you said, grasping at the first lie that came to your mind. Your heart twisted in your chest at the sight of his smile slipping. “I mean, normally I’d love you to come with, especially because it has been a few days since we’ve really seen each other,” you continued in a rush. “But I–I have Angela on my ass about a deadline and I just got hit with writer’s block. I’m desperate to try anything to give me some ideas so I figured a walk might help. And you–you really shouldn’t be out of your house. It’s not safe.”

Michael nodded slowly, his expression still looking a little downcast as he did. “I understand, though I don’t think ya should be walkin’ around by yourself right now, either,” he told you.

“Well I won’t be out walking long,” you replied–which wasn’t exactly a lie.

He nodded, a small smile making its way back onto his face as he focused on you. Gradually the disappointment of your rejection to his company slipped from his expression and he stepped closer, closing the space between the pair of you. His hand reached up to push some hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering along your temple as the rough pads of them affectionately brushed your skin. For a moment you almost forgot about what you were about to do with the way he was staring back at you, your pulse increasing for a reason besides fear for the first time today.

“I missed ya, pet,” he murmured. “Been a shite couple o’ days without ya.”

“I know what you mean,” you whispered back.

He lowered his forehead to yours, his eyes creased at the corners as his warm palm cupped your cheek. You leant into his touch, closing your eyes and wishing you could just stay here with him. Maybe turn around and head back into his house with him. Throw everything that you’d been hiding from him out on the table and hopefully get past it. Maybe spend the evening together.

But you couldn’t do that. Not tonight.

Inhaling a deep breath, you knew you needed to go before you were late to this meeting. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you were. But before you could get a single word out, Michael’s mouth cut you off.

His lips caught yours so softly, his mouth moving tenderly against yours. His hand was still carefully cradling your cheek while the other was resting lightly on your hip. But while he was kissing you so sweetly, your own hands were flying out of your pockets and wrapping around his neck, pulling yourself flush to the front of him. Desperately you wished you could cling to him and the safety he radiated. You hoped some of his strength would somehow transfer to you as you deepened the kiss, your mouth moving in any way but soft against his.

Michael quickly responded in kind, his own mouth moving hungrily before you felt his tongue sliding along your bottom lip. Your fingers were digging into the back of his neck as you kissed him hard, and in return, Michael’s grip on you became a little rougher. But the moment his hand slipped a bit farther down your hip, nearing the gun in your pocket, you instantly pulled away from him.

He was left standing there at the edge of his dimly lit driveway looking confused. You sent him a sheepish smile, running a hand over your forehead.

“Sorry,” you muttered, trying to catch your breath. “I uh, I got a little carried away. I should probably get started on that walk before it gets too late.”

“Right,” he agreed slowly, his dark eyes carefully studying you. 

You cleared your throat, stuffing your hands back into your coat pockets. The fingers of your right hand brushed the cold metal of the gun immediately and your back stiffened. 

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” you told him, backing up from him.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes gradually narrowing. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Grace.”

Shooting him a tense smile, you abruptly turned and ducked your head, walking fast down the street. You just wanted to make it through the rest of this night already. Hopefully tomorrow you could talk to Michael.

[mattzipmua]

CHARLIE COX as MICHAEL KINSELLA with AMANDA KINSELLA by CLARE DUNNE

RTE KIN 2.07

[theimpalatales]

Kin

Buy me a ☕️

[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*

[mattmurdocksstarlight]

This was such a lovely series to read❤️❤️

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!

[rocketyoyo]

[mattmurdocksstarlight]

This had all the emotions!!❤️❤️

Hello, I have a Michael Kinsella x reader request. Mikey and you are fighting because you want to start a family with Michael, but he thinks it's too dangerous because of the family business. You have to go away for a few days and you stay at a friend's house. You find out that you are pregnant, but are very afraid to tell Mikey.

Hi Nonny!

Thank you so much for the request -- hope you like it!

Conversations

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: Smut, Angst, Fluff (this has everything, y'all), Pregnancy, another additional surprise at the end.

Word Count: ~2800

A/N: Trying my hand at writing in 2nd person and not using Y/N -- let me know how y'all like it!

"...Fuckin' hell, love, ya feel so fuckin' perfect," your boyfriend, Michael Kinsella, groaned as he drove his long, thick cock in and out of you. "Yer cunt's always so good fer me."

"Mikey, darlin'." You were so close to the edge of ecstasy and just needed that tiny little push to get you there. "Need it, love, please."

Michael groaned, his hips stuttering slightly. "Love ta hear ya beg for me, pet, such a good lass."

You sucked in a breath, willing to do just about anything at that point as long as Michael would let you come for a second time. "Please, Michael, please. Need yer cock, love, wan' ta feel it deep inside me."

Michael grabbed onto the headboard and drove into you even harder. "Gonna make sure ya remember who this cunt belongs ta while yer' away, who it is tha' makes ya feel this good."

You whimpered, digging your nails into the hair on his chest. He had already littered your chest and inner thighs with an array of love bites before eating you out so damn thoroughly that your legs were still shaking. "Yes, Mikey, love, give it ta me." 

Michael thrust so deep into you that you were sure that you'd feel his cock inside you for days -- which is what you supposed he was going for. "Wan' ya ta think about wha' it feels like ta have me inside ya, pet," he growled as he repeatedly slammed into you. "Fillin' ya up with me cum until it's fuckin' drippin' outta ya. Don't wan' ya ta so much as look a' another man while yer' gone."

"Fuck -- yes, Mikey, fuckin' ruin me, love," you moaned. "Fuck a wee one inta me, show everyone that I belong ta ya."

The thought of carrying Michael's child inside of you was enough to send you hurtling over the edge. "Michael --"

"Shit --" Michael groaned out your name as he slammed into you one last time, releasing rope after rope of his hot seed inside your quivering cunt.

He reached down to circle your clit with his thumb, prolonging your orgasm until you were shaking with oversensitivity.

You weakly pushed at his chest even as your greedy cunt milked his cock of every last drop of cum that had been offered to it.

Michael collapsed on top of you, his cock twitching inside you as it was spent. "Fuckin' hell," he breathed, turning his face to nuzzle your neck.

You hummed as his beard scratched deliciously against your sensitive skin. "Mmm."

Michael leaned up and eased his way out of you, pressing a kiss to your lips before laying at your side.

You turned to face him. You and Michael had been in the middle of a very important discussion about the future of your relationship when he had distracted you with sex. "Are we at least goin' ta talk about it?"

Michael shook his head. "There's nothin' ta talk about. I don' wan' another baby."

Your eyes welled with tears. The topic had been a point of contention between you and Michael for the past several months. As much as you loved Anna like she was your own, you wanted a biological child -- specifically with Michael, who had been staunchly refusing to even consider having another kid but wouldn't give you a reason why. "You don' wan' another baby, or you don' wan' a baby with me?"

Michael said your name mournfully. "Pet--"

You shook your head. "Don' ya 'pet' me, Michael Kinsella. I'm good enough ta keep in yer bed and ta tell that yer' not gonna let another man even so much as look a' me, but ya can' give me a reason why ya don' wan' ta marry or have a baby with me."

You climbed out of bed. "I have ta get ready ta go or else I'll miss my flight."

Michael followed you. "Wait, love--"

You pointed at him angrily. "Do not, Michael. I don' even wan' ta hear whatever half-arse excuse yer' tryin' ta come up with."

You slammed the bathroom door and locked it, and when you came out after taking a brief shower Michael was nowhere to be found. Instead there was a note on your bed in Michael's neat script. I'm sorry, love. Can we talk about it after you get back? I'll explain everything, I promise.

You sighed, the anger draining and leaving a deep sense of disappointment inside you. You knew Michael truly did love you -- getting married or having a baby together wouldn't change that.

You dressed then grabbed your phone off of the charger and sent Michael a message. Yes, we can talk when I get back.

A reply came immediately. Thank ya.

Where are ya?

You looked up as Michael appeared in the doorway. "I was givin' ya some space," he explained. "Wasn't sure if ya wanted ta tell me goodbye or not before ya left fer yer holiday."

You shook your head. "Of course I wouldn't leave without tellin' ya goodbye."

Michael walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you. "A month is too long ta have ta go without ya."

You nodded. "I'm sorry, love, but I promised Caitlin that I'd come visit her and it's been years since we saw each other in person."

"I know, I'm just gonna miss ya." Michael gave you a kiss. "Have a safe trip, darlin'. Call me when you get there?"

You nodded again. "I will, Mikey. And be careful while I'm gone, okay?"

"I will, pet."

A cab honked outside.

You grabbed your suitcase. "That's my ride. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

Michael helped you bring your suitcase downstairs and out to the waiting cab, then gave you one last kiss before you climbed into the cab and headed to the airport.

Your best friend squealed your name as she saw you come around the corner at Boston International airport.

She wrapped her arms around you in a hug. "Hi!"

You hugged her back. "Cait, it's so good ta see ya."

"It's good to see you too. How was your flight?"

"It wasn' tha' bad. I got ta rest on tha plane, a' least."

You had met Caitlin in college when she had done a semester abroad in Ireland and had become immediate friends, staying in touch through everything life had thrown at the two of you.

Caitlin gave you a knowing smile. "Your hot Irishman been keeping you up at night?"

You grinned. One of the wonderful things about Caitlin was that the two of you could talk about literally anything. "He definitely kept me up this mornin', tha's fer sure."

Caitlin huffed out a laugh as you headed out towards her car. "Get it, girl."

You shook your head. You'd tell her about the rest of it over a glass of wine later. "So, how are things with ya?"

Caitlin snorted. "Well, the dating life is dryer than the Sahara desert, but at least work is going well."

She grinned. "I sold 2 more full manuscripts and another one just based on a synopsis."

You gasped. "Cait, tha's amazin'!"

Caitlin nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, thank you. Gotta actually write that one now, but hey, it's a good problem to have."

"I'm so proud of ya."

Caitlin smiled. "So tell me more about Mr. Perfect."

You shook your head with a chuckle. "Oh he's far from perfect. We actually had a big row right before I left."

Caitlin's face dropped. "Oh no, what happened?"

You shook your head as you loaded your suitcase in the backseat and the two of you got into her car. "I tried bringin' up maybe havin' a baby but he flat-out refused, no explanation, no discussin' it, nothin'. And then when I pressed him about it he distracted me with sex -- fuckin' phenomenal sex, but still, he said tha' there was nothin' ta discuss. He avoids the topic of marriage too -- we were talking with his cousin tha other day and he said somethin' about Michael makin' an honest woman outta me and Michael jus' froze and changed tha subject."

You sighed. "He acts all jealous and possessive sometimes -- and I don' mean in a bad way, like he's never threatened me or accused me of anythin', it's more like he likes ta mark me up durin' sex and talk about how I'm his -- but yet he completely avoids all talk of commitment."

Caitlin frowned. "Do you think he's afraid of commitment?"

"I don' know. Maybe it's jus' me tha' he doesn't want ta commit ta." You shook your head. "Anyway, we had a row, then I left ta go shower and get ready fer my flight, and when I came back out of tha ensuite there was a note on tha bed apologizin' and askin' if we could talk about it after I got back from my holiday."

"Well that's something, at least."

You shook your head again. "Yeah, if he actually decides ta talk instead of jus' distractin' me again."

You powered your phone up. "Actually, I promised Michael I'd let him know when I arrived. Let me do tha'."

You sent Michael a text. Arrived in Boston. Caitlin and I are on our way to her flat.

A few seconds later, your phone chimed with a reply. Okay. Love ya.

Love ya too. Have a good night.

You put your phone back in your pocket. 

Caitlin looked over at you. "So what are you going to do if Michael doesn't want to commit?"

You sighed. "I don' know. I wan' a child, but if he doesn't then I guess I'll have ta give up tha' dream."

Caitlin shook her head. "I'm sorry. I know you always wanted to be a mom."

"Don' get me wrong, I love Anna, but I guess I don' really feel like she's mine. She's always been sweet ta me, but it's definitely been in more of a stepmum kind of way rather than a mum mum kind of way." You took a deep breath. "Michael isn't even tha' close ta her, ta be honest."

Caitlin reached over and patted your arm. "Well, no worrying about all that while you're here. We're going to catch up and see the sights and have fun and drink cheap wine like back in our college days."

You huffed out a laugh. "Exactly." Nothing was going to ruin your holiday.

"Ugh, why does my body hate me?" you bemoaned three weeks later. You had been feeling tired and ill for the past couple of days and had barely moved from Caitlin's sofa. "It's all this American food ya been feedin' me. Even my tits hurt."

Caitlin chuckled sympathetically. "I have some Tylenol in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, want me to get it for you?"

You waved her off and got up. "Nah, tha's alright. I'll grab it. I have ta wee again anyway."

You walked into Caitlin's bathroom and opened her medicine cabinet, grabbing the bottle of acetaminophen.

You froze as something caught your eye. "Cait? What's today's date?"

"The 18th, why?"

You stared at the box of tampons as you did some mental math. "Oh, fuck. Oh no. Oh no, no no no..."

An hour later you sat on Caitlin's sofa, a positive pregnancy test in your hands. You had been staring at the word pregnant for the past ten minutes. Pregnant. I'm pregnant. How could I have been so forgetful?

You had made a calendar note in your phone to give yourself your birth control injection every three months but had somehow missed the last one, which was supposed to have been almost two months ago, and it wasn't like you and Michael had exactly been careful otherwise.

You were torn between sheer terror and absolute elation. Michael had made it explicitly clear that he didn't want any more children, but you already felt fiercely protective of the life growing inside you.

"Are you okay?" Caitlin asked gently.

You blinked up at her. "What the fuck am I going ta do? Michael is goin' ta be so angry -- he's goin' ta think I got pregnant on purpose." 

You let out a shaky breath. "I don' wan' ta lose him, Cait, but I don' wan' ta lose this child either."

"Well you're going to have to tell him eventually, and maybe even make a decision between the two of them." Caitlin squeezed your hand. "No matter what you decide though, I'm here for you 100%."

You wrapped your arms around Caitlin in a hug. "Thanks, Cait."

You had a big decision to make.

Michael, we need ta talk, you recited to yourself as you walked up the driveway to your and Michael's shared home. There's something important I have ta tell ya.

You had kept in touch with Michael the entire time you were gone, of course, but there was no way you were going to tell him that you were pregnant over the phone.

You stepped inside and gasped. 

LED candles and rose petals lined the entryway, making a red carpet leading to the stairwell.

Michael stood at the end of it, a single white rose in his hand. "Hi, love," he said.

You blinked at him. "Hi."

He approached you. "I need ta tell ya something."

You opened your mouth to say "okay" but what came out was "I'm pregnant."

Michael froze. "Wha' did you just say?"

You grimaced. That definitely wasn't how you had planned on breaking the news to him. "I said I'm pregnant."

"How long?"

"Probably six weeks or so? I just found out a couple of days ago though, I hadn't been feeling well and I thought it was something I had ate, but then I realized my cycle was late, and I --" You faltered at the unreadable expression on Michael's face and looked down at the floor. "I realized I had missed my injection, but I didn't mean ta, Mikey. I wasn't tryin' ta get pregnant, I swear ta ya."

Your eyes welled with tears. "I understand if yer' angry with me, but I want ta keep this baby. I won' expect ya ta be responsible for it or anythin', so ya don' have ta worry about me comin' after ya for support --"

"Yer' leavin' me?" 

You looked up at Michael in surprise, his broken tone shattering both your heart and your resolve. "No, no, I -- I just figured ya wouldn't wan' me now since ya made it clear tha' ya don' wan' another baby."

"It's not tha' I don' want a child with ya, love, I --" Michael shook his head. "Here, come sit with me."

He led you over to the sofa.

You sat, watching him as he gathered his thoughts. 

He took a deep breath. "The reason I told ya I didn' wan' another baby is because my work -- my life is dangerous, and I don' wan' ta put anyone else in harm's way. I've already lost Jamie ta this life and I almost lost Anna because of it, I don' wan' ta lose another child."

Your heart broke for him. "Mikey…"

Michael shook his head. "However, I've had a lot of time ta think over tha past month and I've decided tha' my fear of losing another child is not worth losing you over."

He slid off of the sofa and got down on one knee.

You reeled back. "Michael, wha' tha fuck are ya doin'?"

He took your hand in his and reached into his pants pocket. "Somethin' I shoulda done long ago."

He pulled out a ring. "I actually bought this tha day after our first date. I knew right then tha' I wanted ta spend tha rest of my life with ya, I've just been waitin' fer tha right time ta give it ta ya."

He breathed out your name. "Will ya marry me, love?"

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes once again. "Yes, yes, of course, Mikey, I love ya so much."

Michael slid the ring onto your finger and gave you a kiss. "I love ya too."

He sat back on the sofa and pulled you into his lap, his hand creeping under your shirt to caress your stomach. "So, yer' carryin' my child in there, hmm?"

You giggled. "Yeah, if the very clear 'pregnant' on the test I took at Caitlin's was any indication."

He stood and carried you towards the stairs. "Maybe we should go try again, jus' ta make sure."

[empathist]

RTE interview with Emmett J Scanlan: KIN star says Jimmy can only be pushed so far