#misha collins fan fiction

[pinksatinpanties]

HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO — misha collins

summary. Abstaining from sex wasn't a gargantuan sacrifice before you met him. The 90 day rule should be a walk in the park - at least that's what you thought when you made the commitment. Misha respects your boundaries, even during intimate moments when you beg him not to.

pairing. boyfriend!misha/celibate!reader

word count. 1.95k

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⎯⎯  warning(s) author's liberal agenda | smutty talk but no smut | teasing | soft dom!Misha | brat!reader | begging | no beta we die like everyone on spn

part 1 - part 2 - part 3?

You took a vow of celibacy six years ago. When friends and coworkers discovered this information about you, they looked at you as if you had three heads on your shoulders. The concept of a young woman in her sexual prime purposefully abstaining from sex was entirely too much for them to grasp. Why? They demanded to know every single time. Instead of explaining that mediocre sex wasn’t worth the risk of pregnancy and STDs or the stress of uncertainty before test results came back or the fact that your reproductive rights were under attack, you simply replied “Because!” with the sweetest smile you could muster. You knew you didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

No, you weren’t waiting until marriage. No, you weren’t joining the nuns at the monastery. No, you didn’t hate sex. It was a lot simpler than any of those things, in your opinion. You were simply tired of sharing your body with people that didn’t cherish it as much as you did. 

Sex with you was a privilege, not a right. And you were holding out for a man that knew and respected that. No matter how long it took, and even if you never found The Guy, you were perfectly happy dating your vibrator for the rest of your life because it meant that your dignity would remain intact.

A handful of guys pursued you over the years. You told them upfront that you were celibate, some tried to convince you to sleep with them anyway, you maintained that boundary, and that was all it took for them to lose interest and disappear.

Then you met Misha inside a Whole Foods on a Thursday afternoon. He asked you out to dinner and you dropped the bomb right then and there in the health and wellness aisle, expecting him to fall back like the others. But he only said “Cool. Do you like Italian?” He didn’t make a sexual proposition after that first date or any of the several dates that followed. 

It wasn’t until three weeks into dating Misha that you finally considered the fact that he might be The Guy. But at the same time, you didn’t want to throw away your six year streak for some temporary fling. So you resolved that you would adhere to the 90 day rule. If he couldn’t hold out for three months, he wasn’t planning to stick around for that long anyway. In that case, good riddance.

When you shared this with Misha, he didn’t pout. He didn’t complain. His eyes actually lit up. “Would it be crass to mark my calendar?”

Your will was iron-clad for the first 26 days.

DAY 29

By the 29th day, you were begging Misha to fuck you. 

Making out with Misha was better than any sex you’d ever had before. His pink lips were full, soft, and always topped with a coat of cherry chapstick. He was very skilled with his tongue - rolling his over yours, fucking your mouth with his tongue, and swirling it around the inside of your lips.

You had invited him over to watch a film you missed in theaters that had just dropped on streaming services, but that was a distant memory now that you were squirming underneath him on your couch.

He rejected your advances while smiling like the cat that ate the canary. He loved hearing you beg and whine for his cock, the bargaining, suggesting oral compromise. 

“Just let me suck it at least!”

“No,” he chirped in a sing-song tone as he shook his head from side to side. “Oral sex is still sex.”

“A handjob then,” you offered.

“Still sex.”

“Fine. Let’s finish the stupid movie.”

DAY 47

Things were getting hot and heavy on Misha’s couch and you decided to cop a feel. Rubbing his erection through his pants made his breath hitch. He clenched both fists in an effort to stop himself from shoving his hand between your legs and making you cum all over it right then and there.

“Stop touching my dick,” he groaned.

You obeyed immediately, but you didn’t want to. “You’re really holding me to this 90 day thing, huh?”

“Yes. And you’re about to lose your kissing privileges, missy,” he warned. “If you keep teasing me.”

“You’d never deprive yourself of my lips,” you scoffed.

“That may be true,” he conceded. “Come.” Misha got up and headed down the hall.

“I��m trying to.”

“Come, not cum!”

Misha got a huge kick out of making you walk over to the calendar hung up on the wall of his bedroom and count the days leading up to the 90th day. 

“See? It’s only 43 short days away. Not as long as you think. You can do this.”

You had no idea where he got all this sexual discipline from, but it was sexy. It made you want him even more.

DAY 56

It was late now, half past eleven. After closing your laptop for the night and taking a short shower, you returned to your room. You dried off your body with the towel, then ripped off your shower cap and flopped into bed. 

Misha was filming a movie in California for a couple of weeks, but he made sure to text you every day while he was out of town. He hadn’t texted you ‘good night’ yet. It had been several hours since he last texted you, but that wasn’t unusual. Your boyfriend only touched his phone on set in an emergency.

Your boyfriend. No one had carried that title in a long time. You were glad you found each other. Looks didn’t matter, but damn, did they help…

You sandwiched the buzzing vibrator between your cunt and a pillow. You pretended you were riding him instead. Whimpering and moaning in the dark for him.

Misha. His tongue in your mouth. His hands cupping your breasts. His body all over yours. 

How big was his dick? Was he circumcised? What would he sound like? What would he taste like? You had to know. So many unanswered questions…

The jarring sound of your ringtone forced your eyes open. You looked down at the glowing screen on your nightstand. The innocent picture you had taken of him kissing the nose of a friend’s little rabbit sitting in his hand covered the entire screen along with your pet name for him and the green and red buttons.

“Hey,” you panted - a little too soon after answering.

“Hey, baby,” Misha greeted. “Just got off of work and I’m headed back to my room now. What are you up to?”

“Uhh… I was just- um…” You hadn’t thought this far ahead, just impulsively answered the phone. But hearing his voice only made the rumbling beneath you feel that much better. “I just got out of the shower.”

“Oooh,” he teased. “Are you also running a marathon? You sound out of breath.”

“Um, no, I uh- Fuck.” You bit your lip to keep from moaning. “You’re not behind the wheel, are you?”

“No, my driver’s taking me back. What’s that in the background? It sounds like some kind of buzzing or…”

“Kinda caught me…hmm… in the middle of something here.”

“Are you… touching yourself?” He spoke into the receiver in a hushed whisper. “That is so inappropriate.”

“I’m sorry. I-”

“Such a filthy girl,” he murmured. You could practically hear the smirk on his face. “Phone sex is sex too. You know better.”

“Oh…” you let a small, breathless moan escape your lips. “Maybe I need to be punished. Maybe then I’ll learn not to be so filthy.”

“Later. Call me back when you’re ready to behave,” and he hung up on you.

DAY 68

You had a surefire plan to break him today. He invited you over for lunch at his place. You showed up at his door with pink lacy lingerie under your baggy tracksuit. You couldn’t even wait to finish the salmon over rice that he made for you. 

“It’s getting really hot in here,” you declared, dramatically fanning yourself with the fabric of your hoodie at his dining room table.

Misha turned to spot the thermostat and pointed at it with his fork. “It’s 72 degrees in here.”

“Well, I’m reeeally hot.”

“Then take your jacket off,” Misha took a bite of his food.

“Whatever you say,” you purred. The hoodie unzipped and came off. 

Misha started choking when he looked up at you. You thought he was exaggerating for comedic effect until he stood up from his chair and started pounding at his chest with the side of his fist.

You stood too. “Oh my god… oh my god!” It took a second for you to remember the Heimlich maneuver, but as soon as you did, you ran over to embrace him from behind and pulled your arms back and up. Half chewed salmon and grains of cooked rice were projectiled across the table.

“Are you okay?! I’m so sorry!” You placed a small hand on his arm and did your best to ignore how muscular he was. Now was not the time.

Misha cleared his throat. “I’m good. And don’t be sorry. If I had died just then, at least the very last thing I would’ve seen is you wearing this.” He placed two big hands on either side of your waist, gently caressing the lace covering your body.

“In that case-”

“Nope!”

“Come on, Mish…”

“You’ve held out for over two thousand one hundred and ninety days before you met me. You can wait 22 more.”

“I can’t! That was before I knew you. I can’t wait another minute, Misha, please. I feel like I’m gonna spontaneously combust.”

“No, baby,” he smirked. “But it’s good to know that I have this effect on you.”

“Why do you even care? It’s not like you’re celibate. What difference does it make to you if we have sex now or 22 days from now?”

“The difference is honoring your wishes. You said 90 days. Your celibacy is important to you. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret just because you got really horny from kissing me.”

“I won’t regret having sex with you. Trust me.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” he said, just matter-of-factly. Like it wasn’t supposed to turn you on. “Just think of how much better it’ll be knowing we waited.”

“It seems so easy for you…”

“Easy? Ha! That little stunt you pulled over the phone made things very hard.”

“Hard, you say?”

“Yes, when I got back to my hotel room… psssh, I haven’t pumped my dick like that since I was a teenager.”

“Well, send me a video next time.”

“You horny little shit.”

DAY 83

You two had formed a habit of napping together during the day. The emotional bond was long since formed. Exploring forms of intimacy other than sex had been very rewarding for the two of you, but it didn’t stop the biological urges.

“Mishaaa, pleeease,” you whined beneath him after a post-nap makeout session. “Seven days is close enough.” 

“No, it’s not.”

Just when you thought the begging couldn’t get any more pathetic, tears began to fall from your eyes before you could stop them. “Misha, I’m actually quite literally begging you.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Misha murmured. “You want my cock that bad?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna fuck you so good. Just like you deserve.”

Your breath hitched and your eyes lit up.

Misha grinned like a supervillain as he brought his mouth to your ear and whispered “In seven days.” 

You completely deflated and lay there in his bed, staring at the ceiling as you grabbed one of his pillows and plopped it over your face. The smug bastard actually cackled as you screamed into the pillow.

⟡ ₊ . ༄.°

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Your Little Secret

Pairing: Misha Collins x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: 19 year age gap, implied smut

Request by @jessicalynnann: Jordan.!!! I need me a good happy story… with some angst and smut well because it is me lol. How about one where Misha is your dad’s best friend and he is attracted to you and he shouldn’t be and one night he comes over to check on you cause your parents are away and walks in on you and a guy and gets jealous and then he throws him out so sexy time ensues.

Summary: You come home for the summer after your first year in college. Everyone looks different, the farm is different, the town is different and Misha Collins is definitely different. Older men are what get you going, and you're going to make it a goal this summer to get as much as Misha Collins as you can.

Square Filled: "you weren't supposed to hear that" (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: in this fic, Misha is 41 and you're 22

x

After a year in college, you’re back home for summer break. As much as you loved dorm life with your friends, you miss the farm life back home. Your dad owns a really big farm with lots of animals that he uses to make money off of. He sells the cow’s milk, the chicken’s eggs, and the sheep’s wool while still upholding the value of the property. He has a section of land for vegetables that he grows but he mostly keeps that for himself.

You’re staying with him for the entire summer which is the best time to be on the farm. In the winter, the snow ruins almost everything about it so the summer is the perfect time to get a lot of shit done. 

Once you get your luggage from baggage claim, you make your way over to the pickup section of the airport, waiting for your ride. When you see your dad’s beaten old pickup truck, you make your way over to him. Instead of him getting out, your older brother does with a crooked smile.

“Y/N!”

“Mason!”

You drop your luggage and run into his arms for a big hug. You haven’t seen him in years since he went off to college on the other side of the country. At least you stayed a bit closer to your home. He graduated not long ago and decided to move back home to help out with the family.

“How’s college life treating you?”

“It’s only the first year. I got a dorm next year with the friends I made this year so that’s good.”

“Awesome. Man, you won’t believe what’s been happening in this town,” he chuckles.

He grabs your luggage and heaves it into the trunk. You both get in the car and off you go back home.

“Alright, spill it. What did I miss?”

“Dad is doing more volunteer work, your old high school teacher, Ms. Bromwell got arrested for fooling around with her senior students, we got a new mayor, and Mom has the hots for the new Pastor.”

“Of course, she does,” you laugh. Ever since she got divorced from Dad, she’s been moving around town in not the best way. Still, you love her to pieces. “Glad to be home.”

“Oh, and Misha is back in town.”

Your entire body goes still at the mention of his name.

“How is he doing?”

“He’s alright, I guess,” Mason shrugs.

Misha is your dad’s best friend who grew up only a few doors down from you. He was always present at every birthday party, every time you snuck out of the house, when you first got your license, when you got ready for Prom, and when you graduated high school. When you got to that age when you started caring how you look for boys’ attention, you were really getting dolled up for him. You have had a major crush on him for years now but you were too young to do something about it.

He is nineteen years older than you but you don’t care. You’re fresh in college, you’re not a little girl anymore, and you know what you want. You want Misha and you’re going to make it your goal to get him this summer, even if it only lasts a couple of months. He might see you as a child and as his best friend’s daughter but you’re going to change that soon enough.

Mason reaches the house in record time and helps bring in your bags.

“Dad! We’re home,” he announces.

“Y/N!” your dad greets you and brings you in for a hug. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

“Glad to be home, Dad,” you smile.

“You remember Misha, right?”

You turn to face him and your mouth actually goes dry. Damn, he looks good. Seeing him is sending tingles up and down your body that you shouldn’t have for your dad’s best friend. He smiles and that almost makes you melt right there.

“Y/N, it’s been a long time.”

He brings you in for a hug and all your senses are filled with him. His cologne is making your head dizzy and you can feel his muscles underneath his clothes.

“Yeah, it has,” you chuckle.

“Do you need help unpacking?”

“No, I got it,” you quickly say and pull away from him. “Thank you, though.”

You grab your bag and immediately head upstairs before you make a fool out of yourself. He watches you walk up the stairs with a controlled look on his face. There is no way he is going to give away what he’s thinking.

The day you came in was a day for relaxing, but the next morning is when your contribution begins. You wake up right as the sun is peeking over the horizon and get dressed in short coveralls and a sports bra. You tie your hair into a messy bun and grab a woven basket before heading out to the chicken coops.

Most of the hens have laid eggs that you collect without issue. There are a few with attitudes but you know how to handle them. It doesn’t matter how long you spend away from home, the work is engraved in your head. You bend down to collect some more eggs when you hear someone shuffle against the wood chips behind you, and you gasp while turning around.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Misha chuckles.

“What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.”

“You wanted to get the eggs from the chickens, too?”

“Okay,” Misha chuckles, “maybe not the same reason.” You smile at him and move on to the hens on the other side of the coop. “So, how is college going?”

“So far so good. I got a dorm with my friends next year so that’s good. Classes are great.”

“Meet anyone over there?”

“You mean like a boyfriend?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he nods.

Is he fishing for information? What if you say yes? Are you going to make him jealous? This is a good opportunity to mess with him but you resist. It’s too early in your relationship to make such bold decisions. For now, you keep it safe.

“No. I’m not into men my age. I like them older,” you flirt subtly.

“I see,” he nods.

“So, tell me something, you’re well off with money. Why are you still in this town? The people stay here because they can’t go anywhere else.”

“Your dad is well off but he stays.”

“He’s been in this town for decades. He can’t leave,” you chuckle.

“Same here. I grew up here.” You raise an eyebrow and he laughs. “I don’t know. I feel like there is something here for me still. Maybe someone.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re single?”

“Maybe.”

“I see,” you copy his response.

You finish grabbing all the eggs and bring them inside with Misha. It’s time for breakfast now because your dad and Mason are going to be up soon. There are dozens of eggs so what better way than to make some omelettes with some of the fresh vegetables from the farm? 

One of your favorite apps these days is Tik Tok which your best friend introduced you to. It has all sorts of videos that can keep you entertained for hours, and some of your favorite videos to watch are prank videos. One of the ones going around is where someone is cooking eggs and decides to crack one on someone’s head instead of doing it on the counter or the side of a pan.

You look at Misha who is washing his hands with a smirk. You grab twelve eggs to cook with and set the rest of them off to the side. You take one of the eggs and swiftly crack the egg on Misha’s forehead. He flinches from shock and you hold in your giggle as you pour the egg into the pan.

You grab another egg to do it again but Misha is quick on his feet. He moves out of the way and wipes the egg whites that you left on his skin. He reaches out to touch you but you squeal and move out of the way.

“This isn’t how this works!” you laugh.

Misha grabs your waist and pulls you into him, and he teases you by hovering his slimy hands above your face. You squirm to get away from him but end up moving your body closer to him. You turn to face him and lock eyes. He looks down briefly before something changes in his body language and in his eyes. He clears his throat and steps away from you to put some distance between you two.

“I should get going.”

“Why? Breakfast hasn’t even started yet.”

“I got stuff to do.”

“Stuff?”

Just then, your dad comes jogging down the stairs because you know he smelled the eggs cooking.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” your dad asks and grabs water from the fridge.

“Helping Y/N out but I’m leaving now.”

Misha washes his hands and leaves without another word. You watch him leave with a frown as you rake your brain to figure out where things took a turn.

A few days later, your dad wanted to have a barbecue for everyone in town at the farm. He has the biggest property in town so it makes sense to turn the farm into something the entire town can enjoy. Almost everyone from town is in your backyard, and your dad sets up games for the kids to play, a small bar with a keg of beer for the adults, and lots of good food. The one job he gave you was to keep the keg stocked with beer but the one he has must have the nozzle broken because it’s not dispensing beer correctly.

Misha shows up expecting to have a good time when he spots you bent over the keg wearing short shorts and an almost see-through tank top. He clenches his jaw in frustration and storms over to you. You’re too busy to see him heading your way, and you yank the nozzle the wrong way because beer sprays all over your shirt.

“Shit,” you gasp and jump back.

Beer flows out of the nozzle so you quickly turn it off before any more goes to waste. You grab the ends of your shirt to take it off when Misha grabs your elbow.

“What the hell?”

“What? I got beer on myself.”

“Taking off your shirt with children around is inappropriate.”

“It’s not like I’ll be showing my boobs to everyone. I have a sports bra underneath this.”

“Here.” He sheds off his jacket and gives it to you to wear. “Go inside and change.”

“Yes, sir,” you say sarcastically and walk away from him.

Misha resists the urge to grab you and punish you for your bratty attitude. You’re not sure what has gotten into him these last couple of days because he’s been angry with you. You’ve tried flirting with him but nothing has come of it and you’re not one of those girls to just wait around for a guy. If he doesn’t want you, there are plenty of other men who do. There was a young man at the barbecue that you connected with and kept in touch with after the event was over.

Your dad is going to be out of town for a couple of days with your brother which means you have the house to yourself. What better way to spend your time than with the new guy you met? Misha has mixed feelings about you because you’re his best friend’s daughter. You’re unsponkingly off limits. If Jensen knew the kind of thoughts he was having about his daughter, he would kill him for sure.

Maybe if he talks to you, he can understand what he’s feeling and figure out what to do about it. He walks over to your house and uses the key Jensen gave him for emergencies only. He has to check on you anyway per Jensen’s request so he doesn’t think much when he walks inside your house. It’s usually quiet until he hears something that makes all his blood go straight to his cock.

You are moaning upstairs. 

The thing that pisses him off is he hears a man moan right after you. He should just leave but he rushes upstairs with the intent of ruining your evening. He doesn’t mean to be an asshole but he’s thinking with his downstairs brain and not his upstairs one. He practically busts down the door to see the guy you met naked on top of you.

“What the fuck!” you gasp and push the man off you.

Misha is too pissed to see that you’re fully naked in front of him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The guy you’re with stutters since he’s too scared by Misha’s presence. “Get the hell out of here.”

The guy gathers his clothes and rushes out of the room, and you pull your robe on to give you some sort of decency.

“What the hell are you doing here? Why did you run him off?” you gasp in anger.

“You know, when your dad asked me to check on you while he was away, I’d figure I see you in here drinking, maybe smoking some weed, not fucking some boy you just met.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Yeah, well, I did.”

“You thought it was okay to come here close to the middle of the fucking night? You couldn’t have waited until morning?”

“I’m not going to let my best friend’s daughter get pregnant by some kid she doesn’t know.”

“I have condoms.”

“It’s irresponsible.”

“Why do you even care what goes on in my bedroom? It’s not like you’re in it,” you cross your arms.

If you’re going to do this, may as well go all out. Misha chuckles but it’s not an amused chuckle, it’s a dark chuckle like you better watch what you say next or he’ll punish you.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me.”

The laugh you give is almost an amused one.

“An old guy like you? The only thing I won’t be able to handle is how short it’ll be. Wouldn’t want to throw out your back, now would we?”

Misha’s smirk is lost as he stalks towards you. You back up but are stopped by the dresser.

“Sweetheart, I’d ruin other men for you.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” Misha looks like he wants to but listens to the rational part of his brain. He shakes his head and starts to walk away from you. “That’s what I thought.” You scoff. “I want you to leave because I have a date with my vibrator which has batteries that will last longer than you.” 

Misha snaps and turns so quickly that you don’t have time to react. He grabs your waist and tosses you onto the bed causing your robe to open enough to show your breasts. He looks down at your chest and reaches out to touch one of your breasts but resists at the last second.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“I’m nineteen years older than you.”

“And?”

“You’re my best friend’s daughter.”

“And?” you chuckle.

Misha stares into your eyes to see if you mean what you say. When he doesn’t see a shred of regret he leans down and kisses you. He reaches into your robe and palms your breasts before allowing you to shred the piece of clothing. It’s passionate. It’s sensual. It’s intimate. It’s everything you want and more. He’s so much different than anyone you’ve ever been with. He takes care of you three times before he even thinks about himself; once on his tongue, once on his fingers, and once more on his cock.

It’s hours before you’re done and you pant heavily next to him.

“Yeah, you have ruined other men for me,” you laugh.

“You can’t tell your dad about this. He’d murdered me.”

“Eh, I don’t tell him a lot of things anyway.”

You lean over and kiss him again, ready for a round two.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary���​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[sweetm0uringlamb]

hey guys, i was just thinking that maybe we could start archive all the A03 fics we can.

Project 2025 will mostly likely come into effect in January, which will also bring about the end of websites which hold queer centric content. obviously, AO3 fics art usually queer.

i would really like for maybe an organised way of doing this - maybe divvying up people/groups of people to do certain fandoms, ships, tags, etc?

if anyone is interested or has any idea of how to do this in an efficient and timely manner, please respond.

i don’t want to see people’s years of self-exploration and fan content to simply disappear into the aether because of a fucking Christo-Fascist government. i want to try to prevent that as much as possible.

it might be a pipe dream, but i want to give it a shot

thank u for reading this <3

[xpurdyglambertx]

•♡•Fanfic Writers of the SPN Fandom•♡•

A brand-spankin-new Discord Server for anyone who writes Supernatural fanfic, or is interested in getting started!

We have-

• Lots and lots of channels

• Private channels for adults only

• Sprinto bot

• Self-assigning roles

• Custom emojis

• Strict but friendly server staff

And we are just getting started with lots more room to grow!

Everyone is welcome, regardless of experience level or ship - this is a space for people to grow and learn as writers!

What are you waiting for? Come check us out!

[haley-harrison]

tbh the main cause of shipping wars is that jackles is too good at his job. Man has convincing chemistry with most of his coworkers, so depending on which scenes you focus on, you can gather a convincing argument for your ship of choice.

like if you look just at the first three seasons, j2 have such insane chemistry you have to be blind not to notice. (case in point, even my mother, who is otherwise a normal 62-y-o was like 'well that's not a normal brother relationship'). add the lack of significant alternative options, and it's clear why the early days had so many wincest shippers. Like, duh. You see two hot guys who look at each other with adoration (and lip-licking), brain's gonna ship. Fiction isn't reality anyway.

However, then comes s4. Now, I think Misha is awesome and funny and great, and obviously he and Jensen hit it off. Enough that it shows on screen. That said, the script was still written as Kripke intended, which is that Sam and Dean are obsessed with each other.

Because it's a fact, that Kripke read Siken's Crush, and also On the Road, and wrote Sam and Dean very much under that influence. And if you read either of those, you know they're about gay lovers.

So. There's a conflict between the script (which is samdean coded), and the acting (where jenmish actually gets more and more intense with time).

And the thing is, both sides of the fandom have solid 'evidence' on why their ship is (practically) canon. And it sucks to see people actually fight and insult each other.

I am a multishipper: I have an OTP but I see the appeal of other pairings and occasionally read those too. And I wish we could all see that plurality of opinions is good. Fiction is meant to be discussed, there isn't one correct answer.

At the end of the day, we're here to have fun with this trash show (affectionate), so maybe let's do that without judging?

[unhinged-jackles]

reading fanfic before bed is just me never growing out of the need for a bedtime story

[hanniballecterkinnie]

hey guys… anyone know which fanfics the following excerpts are from 😭

pls help

[crowlex23]

Bedtime Drive [Destiel Fanfiction]

[imaginaryprotagonist]

I am now obsessed with finding Destiel fic visual inspo. SO! If you're reading a little Stanford-era fic or a complete AU where they're in their mid-20s, please enjoy Smallville Jensen and 24 Misha.

[pinksatinpanties]

HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO² — misha collins

summary. The 90th day...

pairing. boyfriend!Misha/not-so-celibate-anymore!reader

word count. 2k

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⎯⎯  warning(s) SMUT FINALLY | love confession | oral sex (f receiving) | p in v

author’s note. omgomgomgomgomgomg I'm so sorry for the delay. My living situation is fucked right now and I haven't had access to wifi where I'm staying and it's REALLY difficult to write smut at the crowded public library. I have so much on my plate right now and it's preventing me from being the writer I want to be, so please give me some grace for the lazy writing you're about to witness. The end was rushed because I could not let another day go by without posting this (after already delaying it for 3 days). This might be my last fic post for a while until my living situation improves, but I WILL BE BACK and smuttier than ever. Thanks for your patience. I love each and every one of you.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3?

Misha insisted on taking you to dinner like a gentleman, but you honestly would have been happy with him just coming over to your place and fucking your brains out. His chivalry continued to touch your heart as well as your nethers.

“This is a very fancy, classy place,” your eyes were big as saucers as you scanned the gorgeous Lebanese restaurant from left to right then right to left again as the hostess led you to your table. Misha followed behind you. Too rich for my blood, you thought, and tried to suppress the feeling that you weren't worth a place this opulent.

Almost as if he read your mind, he said “You’re worth it. Besides, this is one of my favorite spots. It’s selfish, really. The muhammara is amazing.”

“What’s muhammara?”

“It’s a red pepper, pomegranate molasses paste. Kind of like hummus without the chickpeas.”

“Here you are,” the hostess gestured to the table like a Disney princess. 

“Thank you,” you and Misha said in unison. He pulled out a chair for you.

“Enjoy!” With that, she glided back to the hostess stand.

After sitting, you watched him round the table to get to his seat. He wore a tailored dark blue button down with the top two buttons unfastened, tucked into his black slacks. He wore one of his cowboy-ish belts with a gigantic silver buckle. Black leather penny loafers for the shoes. And you couldn’t stop your gaze from lingering on his perky butt.

Misha insisted on ordering for the table and you had no objections. When the server came around, he ordered the entire meal at once - along with the side dishes and two bottles of champagne. Then he excused himself to the men’s room. 

When he returned to the dining area, you were taking in the beautiful ambience of the restaurant again. He paused halfway to the table just to watch you looking up at the decorative wooden slats on the ceiling, scrunching your brows just a bit as you tried to classify the kind of wood. Acacia? Or oak with an orange-ish coat of lacquer?

You wore a dark red silk dress with thin straps and a slight cowl over the chest - showing just a bit of cleavage. It hugged your body in all the right places, Misha thought to himself. You had spent thirty whole minutes flat-ironing your curly hair into pin straight submission and now it cascaded over your right shoulder, revealing the vintage golden earrings you had found at a market in Manhattan so many years ago. And you wore the matching necklace. They were part of your special occasion armor.

Despite being able to watch you like this all day, Misha decided he had been standing in the middle of the dining area for too long and made his way back to your table to sit down. “You are so beautiful, you know that?”

“I clean up alright, I guess,” you beamed.

The sommelier approached the table with the first bottle of champagne soon after, presenting the bottle and expertly popping the cork before pouring two glasses and leaving the bottle in an ice bucket stand by the table.

“What should we cheers to?” You asked as you raised your glass.

“I have something to say first.”

“Okay…” you placed the glass back on the table.

“These past few months we’ve spent together have been amazing for me and I hope it’s been the same for you.”

“It has been! I have never been more glad to have entered a Whole Foods,” you smiled at him. What a relief.

“Me neither,” he chuckled. “But um… it’s more than that… for me… I’ve… fallen in love with you. I love you… and um… that’s all I wanted to say really, but I’m afraid to stop talking because I’m nervous about what you’re going to say when I do stop talking. So I’ll stop… talking… now.” You had never seen him so bashful. It was adorable.

“I love you too, Misha.”

Misha’s worried expression dissolved into one of pure joy. He smiled that million dollar smile of his. 

You raised your glass again. “To love!”

He did the same. “To love!”

Your glasses clinked against each other and you both took a sip. 

The food was delicious. The conversation was intellectually stimulating. The champagne had you both feeling nice. You were just about to ask Misha if he was ready to blow this popsicle stand. Then his gaze went over your shoulder.

“HAAAAPPY BIIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU!” You jolted in your seat and looked around to see who’s birthday it was until you noticed that the restaurant staff was headed to your table.

“HAPPY BIIIIRTHDAY TO YOUUU!”

Misha was beaming with pride watching his little prank unfold. After your dessert was finished, you finally asked the question you’d been waiting for all night.

“Your place or mine?”

“Worse,” Misha grinned.

***

The two of you walked down the gorgeous hotel hallway, tinfoil swan full of leftovers in hand. 

He stopped you right in front of your room.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Misha, shut up,” you giggled and pecked him on the lips.

“I’m serious,” he said with a straight face. “We don’t have to have sex tonight - or ever - if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I want to. Was my constant begging too subtle?”

“I just want to make sure this is what you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything just because there’s all this anticipation built up.”

“No pressure at all. Do you feel pressured?”

“Nope.”

“Good,” you smiled. “Ready to go in?”

“Don’t look yet,” Misha scanned the key card and turned the doorknob, opening the door just far enough for him to slip inside and immediately closing it behind him.

You waited in the hall for a second, then the door re-opened. The scene Misha revealed to you was the most romantic set up you had ever seen. You slowly entered the love nest.

The room was dimly lit by candles all over the dresser, nightstand, and table. There were rose petals scattered in the shape of a heart on the bed. 

He had gotten you a bouquet of red roses along with a card that he’d personalized. It had originally said ‘HAPPY ANNIVERSARY’ in pink bubble letters, but Misha had glued a small piece of red construction paper with custom lettering - so now it read ‘HAPPY three months and seventeen days-AVERSARY’. 

“Misha,” you cooed in awe. “This is… gorgeous.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me!”

You advanced towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses all over. You couldn’t tell when the innocent pecks ended and the french kissing began, but soon you were breaking the kiss to catch your breath. Your heart was racing and you sat on the bed to steady it.

“I’m nervous,” you blurted. “I still want to, but I’m suddenly really nervous.”

“That’s okay.” He sat down on the bed beside you. “What’s making you nervous?”

“What if I forgot how to have sex? After six years, what if I’m like… a virgin again?”

“Is this supposed to be turning me on? Because it is.”

“Seriously,” you nudged him in the shoulder. “What if I’m no good at it? And you waited all this time only to be disappointed…”

“Hey,” he placed a finger under your chin and used it to make you look up at him. “You could never disappoint me. Get that outta your head. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now if you care what I think… I think it would be super hot,” he scrunched up his face as he emphasized. “If you were a completely inexperienced virgin. It’d also be super hot if it all came back to you like riding a bike. Either way, I’m happy… just to have the chance to touch you…” he placed a hand on your shoulder and slipped the red strap off. “Kiss you…” he pressed his lips to your shoulder with a soft smooch. “Lick you…” his tongue brushed against your neck like a paint stroke.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you exhaled.

“Tell me what you like,” he pressed a kiss to your neck. “What you want me to do to you.”

“Oh… um… well, you know…” your cheeks burned as you failed miserably at hiding your embarrassment.

“I have an idea, but I wanna hear you say it. Don’t get all shy on me now.”

The laundry list of kinky things you fantasized about Misha doing to you scrolled through your mind like the introduction to the Star Wars movies: smacking, spanking with belts, choking, degrading you, restraining you, and other rough things you’d subjected yourself to in the past. At this moment, you didn’t want any of that. Misha’s love had lobotomized you.

“I want you to… make love to me.”

The sin in Misha’s eyes seemed to dissipate. His lips parted with the intent to say something, but he leaned in to kiss you instead. You slipped the other strap off of your shoulder and broke the kiss to stand so the dress would drop to the maroon carpet. Before you could toss yourself onto the mattress, Misha had his hands on your body. He started at your waist before sliding his hands up to cup and massage your breasts. His eyes were glued onto your nipples as he started to rub circles into them with his thumbs. You did your best to keep from whimpering, but your ‘best’ was not so great. It had been so long since someone touched you like this. Tiny gasps and whines escaped your lips despite your will to stay silent. He wasn’t even inside you yet. You had to maintain some semblance of dignity. You couldn’t just let yourself give it all away now.

Misha looked up at you with some kind of cross between a pout and a frown. He needed to hear you. He confiscated his warm hands and used them to unbutton his shirt instead. When all the buttons were set free, he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed on your back in one swift motion. Then he was on top of you with his tongue in your mouth, rolling it over yours. He removed the shirt and threw it off to the side somewhere.

Misha kissed a beeline down to your neck and off to the side where he sucked and nibbled at the sensitive skin. You were gasping and moaning loudly at this point - all self control had flown out the window. He smiled against your neck, smug with satisfaction. His kisses traveled down to your nipple while he pinched the other between his fingertips. Just when you thought you couldn’t get any louder, his tongue swirled circles around your areola. Then he showed some oral love to your other nipple until you were squirming beneath him from the overstimulation. 

He hooked his fingers into the thin elastic straps of your red, lacy thong and pulled down, revealing your glistening sex.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already. All this for me?”

“It’s all yours. Take it.”

With that, he slid back enough to put his face between your legs and kissed across your thighs - causing you to buck your hips up. He pulled back, teasing you even more. As if the 90 days wasn’t torture enough.

“I think the swan is watching us.”

You turned to see that the tinfoil swan was coincidentally positioned and definitely staring in your direction before turning back to Misha. “I want her to see.”

“Smart, funny, beautiful, and a freak. How did I get so lucky?” His eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe along the length of your cunt. The noise you made was absolutely pathetic. 

“You taste even better than I imagined, honey,” he murmured into your cunt. “So sweet.” He licked, sucked, and fingered your pussy for what seemed like hours, whispering words of encouragement throughout.

“One more, baby. Cum for me one more time. Please, I need it.” 

He pounded you into the mattress three separate times in three different positions before the two of you collapsed in exhaustion: missionary, doggy, missionary again with your legs behind your head.

“Say it again,” you purred, relishing in your role as the little spoon.

“I love you.”

“Mmm… again.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

“I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss.

[mbqnoyolo]

God is a Cat.

This feels very timely.

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@incarnateirony ✌️🥲

[ihavedeclaredwaronthemoonxx]

no one hates supernatural fans more than the supernatural writers. they broke the fourth wall just so that they could dedicate multiple episodes to shitting on their own fans.

[xpurdyglambertx]

[strawlessandbraless]

If Misha and Jensen were in a relationship, where they knew each other in the biblical sense, would they ever role play as Cas and Dean?

[averagedenjienjoyer0290]

I appreciate the word count most of the time but I’m not gonna lie, my attention span is cooked.

sometimes yall either gotta lie or not put it down at all. LIKE I BET ALL 250K WORDS IN THIS DRABBLE IS GREAT BUT LIKE…250K?? That’s so discouraging gang just lie to me 🥀🥀

[thatwritererinoriordan]

"A Broken Man and the Dawn" #podfic Ch. 1