Supernatural Imagines & Preferences

Fan Imagine

Misha~

Nothing. Your mind was blank. It simply replayed what happened like a stupid cassette. Yes, Jensen had made you feel incredible- by simply moving his fingers expertly. That could make you blush. But… The whole thing was so sudden.

The car ride was silent, beside the light rock music Dean Winchester listened to. You smiled at that, loving how Jensen and his character liked the same music. Quietly you nodded your head along to the beats of the songs, ignoring the side smile Jensen kept giving you.

When you two were back at your house, Misha wasn’t waiting on the porch. Jensen parked and turned to look at you and you sighed, thinking you obviously would have to talk about it. He was married and he just gave you the best orgasm of your life. You look to him, his green eyes reflecting the natural light.

“I hope you have fun with Misha.” He says suggestively. Your eyes narrow. “What does that mean? What’s he going to do to me?”

“Not to you. With you.” He replies, slipping out of the car and walking in. You struggle with the seatbelt before racing in to the house. You see Jared watching a different show now, your mother and sister making a snack in the kitchen, and Jensen joining his friend on the couch. No Misha. You rake a hand through your hair and blow out air.

“Oh, (Y/N), Misha’s upstairs.” Your sister says without looking at you.

You turn to look up the stairs, noticing that your bedroom light was shining underneath your door. Swallowing loudly, you grip the stair rail and step up one by one. Misha. Step. Misha. Step. Misha. Your breathing increases from the small exercise and the thoughts racing through your brain.

Naked. Sweaty. Skin on skin. You were getting wetter and hotter by the second.

You pause outside your room and try to gather yourself. You were about to walk in to Misha Collins. And hey, maybe he was just going to sit you down and talk to you about life, make you feel better about yourself. Or-

The door swings open and the first thing you see are bright blues and a flashy smile. Your eyes widen as he opens the door further and you step in. Your breath hitches.

Beautiful waxy red rose petals scatter the floor and your bed, creamy white drapes falling from the ceiling to cover the professionally made bed, small vanilla scented candles placed in little crooks and crannies. On your night stand there’s a small silver packet- probably a condom- along with a bowl full of melted chocolate and strawberries. You take in the sight, already shaking slightly at the anxious pool in your stomach.

“This is…” You try to think of something, anything, that can describe what you’re feeling. Misha comes into your view and it’s only now that you see he’s only in boxers. Shit. Your eyes float over his meaty biceps and toned abdomen, stopping to take in the obvious bulge in his tight fabric.

“I’m glad you like it, (Y/N). We’re going to have so much fun.”  He walks over to you, cupping your cheeks and pushing you lightly against the nearest wall, connecting your lips with a kind of frenzy you never thought he would have. Your hands weave in his beautiful hair as his body comes against yours deliciously, hips digging into yours. His hands fall from your face to your ass, squeezing slightly and making you moan. He smiles into the kiss at this reaction, continuing to surprise you in every way possible.

After a moment, he pulls you from the wall and walks with you to the bed without breaking the kiss.

“You’re going to have to be quiet. Your mother is downstairs and I don’t think she’ll approve.” He whispers huskily, fingers moving down to the hem of your shirt. You nod too fast, too needy. “Yes Misha.” You breathe out. He looks up at you, eyes darkening at his full name.

“Mm,” He hums, connecting his lips to your belly button. You squeak at the vibrations running up your chest. “I like when you say my name.”