I couldn’t help myself, but I can’t say I’m sorry. (NSFW under the cut)

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The open relationship might actually be a thing.

At least it might’ve in the past. Not so much now that they have kids, but who knows- right?The entire thing with the threesome handbook makes it seem like they were okay with the idea of somebody else caring and loving and fucking their spouse. But mostly, only if they participated also? 

I know what you mean though. Misha definitely radiates a hugeeee amount of sexiness and it’s overwhelming at times, at least it is for me.

So imaging running into Misha and Vicki at a park or on a hike. 

And you’re freaking out, because it’s Misha fucking Collins, but you gather yourself and actually end up hitting it off with them. Pretty soon, hours have past and you all end up talking about everything and anything… and…. holy shit, is Vicki hitting on you? 

Her attention is right on you. Her eyes falling to your lips for only a brief moment and you glance at Misha.. who’s running an encouraging hand down Vicki’s back. You’re stunned, but not completely sure so you keep talking… The conversation suddenly getting quieter and more tense.

Then Vicki is right there. When did they get so close? And she’s touching your arm gently before leaning in and whispering in your ear. “How about we all continue this conversation at our place?”

Oh fuck. Could you imagine? I’d be so down for that. Especially the part about it ending in giving Misha an orgasm… with his wife.

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Summary: After a truly delightful phone call, there’s a knock on your door and a question that still needs to be answered. Are you ready for Round Two?

Read: (Part One) 

Word Count: 1,572

Author: The-Dangerous-Ginger

A/N: This is part 2 to “Phone Call” but can be read as a stand alone. There will be a part 3 (maybe more, who knows at this point). Like before, feel free to drop me an ask with a prompt!

Tags: Misha x Reader, Dom!Misha, Sub!Reader, dirty talk, mirrors, eye contact, fingering, nsfw

~~~~~

Words… they were a too far concept for you right now. You knew you needed to say something but they just wouldn’t form.

Who could blame you though?

Misha was standing in front of you, on your doorstep, in the middle of the night.

You hadn’t seen him in over two months, so when he asked you, eyes sparkling with amusement and darkened with arousal, “Ready for round two?”, in a voice so filthy and sinister and wickedly hot, you had to act instead of speak.

You hauled him, by a fistful of shirt, across the threshold, and kicked the door shut behind him. Tightening your grip on it, you slammed your mouth to his, and let the past two months of loneliness wash away at the taste of his lips on yours.

He chuckled darkly against your lips and tangled a hand into your hair, seizing the strands with just enough aggression to make you hand the reins over to him.

From then on, you fell.

You fell into his taste, smell, touch, and overall presence.

It was liberating.

Even when he pressed you against the wall, a hand still in your hair tilting your head up, while the other cupped your jaw, you didn’t feel trapped or smothered or uncomfortable.

You felt at peace, at home, and oh so incredibly turned on.

A wanton moan slipped from you when he pressed a muscular thigh to your panty clad core, grinding you against it. The friction between the rough denim and the simple cotton of your panties was exquisite and had you throwing your head back against the wall.

He sampled every bit of you he could reach as he ground against you. With long sweeps of tongue and sharp nips of teeth, he left no skin, from your lips to the edges of your collarbone peeking out from your nightshirt, untouched.

You gasped, trembled, and mewled into his shoulder and chest when his lips latched onto a soft spot on your neck, and you could feel the heavy hammering of his heartbeat against your cheek.

“Mi…Mish… bed…” You managed to gasp.

Your stuttered words needed no preamble, no explanation, he knew what you wanted and he was going to deliver it.

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Summary: You get an unexpected phone call at an ungodly hour, but the results are… heavenly.

Read: (Part Two)

Word Count: 1,006

Author: The-Dangerous-Ginger

A/N: This is an unbeta’d work in which Misha is a devilishly eloquent dirty talker and my bitterness about Castiel’s character treatment peeks through. This is definitely not the last thing I will write for this blog, so keep a lookout, because I guaruntee there will be more. Feel free to drop prompts in my askbox. ;)

Tags: phone sex, dirty talk, nsfw, reader x misha

~~~~~~~

Is that your phone ringing?

That better not be your phone ringing.

You wait a few seconds, hovering on the edge of sleep, and, yep, that is your phone ringing.

Groaning in an entirely rude way, you roll over and search blindly for the damn thing, cursing whoever is on the other end of the line a blue streak.

Finally finding it, you glance at the number before pressing the answer button.

“It is three in the morning. If this isn’t important, I am so kicking your ass.” You grit out, sitting up.

The voice on the other end chuckles lowly.

“You never were a big morning person.” Misha comments wryly, voice somewhat dark and maybe just a little husky.

Scowling at the darkness in your room, you shoot back, “Mornings are fine, they’re great, really. Three in the morning? Not so much.”

He merely hums at you for that one.

“So, what can I do for you?” The question really isn’t needed because you can almost feel the answer before he says it.

“I miss you, (Y/N). Really… miss you.”

The last three words were low, intense, and held an edge that confirmed your suspicions immediately.

Misha Fucking Collins just called you at an ungodly hour for phone sex.

The notion really shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. In fact, it should actually piss you off… but it doesn’t.

No, your body is lighting up in response and is absolutely on board with the plan.

“Where are you?” You ask him quietly.

There’s a slight shuffle on the other end of the line, something like a door closing.

“Alone. They don’t need me right now, perk of having a character that the writers don’t really give a shit about.” His words had a slightly bitter tinge to them, but that was a topic for another time.

“Good…” You let the silence trail for a minute and leisurely play with a strand of your hair. “You miss me, huh? Just what exactly do you miss?”

A long sigh comes through the phone. “Your gorgeous face, and how it twists into the most beautiful expression when you’re in the throes of ecstasy. Your hair, always so soft and silken, and how great it feels wrapped around my fist when I’m fucking you from behind.”

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alright guys, let’s fucking GOOOO (this is 4 the anon that said the new admins need to write more smut)

THIS IS NSFW JUST AN FYI

It’s late. After midnight.  You’re up watching The Middle and drinking a beer, slowly drifting off to sleep. Wondering where Misha is, you pull out your phone to text him.

Seconds after you start typing the text, he comes through the door.  You smile at him, greeting him, and he just walks over towards you, peeling off his shoes and sweatshirt.

“Fuck, all I could think about all day was you” he said, climbing over you on the couch.

“I need you right this fucking second” he finishes, kissing you hard, lips opening up yours and tongue sliding in your mouth.  He straddles over you, one hand on your cheek, the other on your waist.

And fuck, you needed him too.

He’s deepening the kiss, taking control, pulling his t shirt over his head. His chest is bare, your hands coming up to touch him, moaning softly into his mouth.  

His skin was so hot, the heat radiating onto you and making you squirm.  You needed to get him out of his pants now. ASAP. Immediately. Right this god damn second.

As if he reads your mind, he starts with the button on his jeans, mumbling, “Your shirt” into your neck.

You pull off your shirt, helping him with his jeans as he slides down your sweatpants.

There’s so much skin now. You both can barely handle the heat, pressing so god damn close together, bodies sliding in agony and anticipation.

Your hips move filthily against his, shivers sent down your spine as you both shed the remainder of your clothes.

Finally naked, he sits up, breathing hard, gaping down at you.

“I need to just have my way with you right now babe, fuck” he grumbles, hands sliding up your torso, gripping your skin tight and rolling his hips.

God, how can you say no to him? He looks so downright sexy over you. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing with your own two eyes. You can feel his strong thighs anchoring you beneath him, his body sweaty and aching.

“Fuck…I’m all yours,” you gasp out, staring at his dick. Fuck, he’s so hard. 

And suddenly he’s got a finger inside you. Then two. Then three. You’re trying to be patient, but you can barely hold out, knowing what’s up next.

This wasn’t about making love.  This wasn’t about tender, loving sex that lasts for hours.  This was about rough, filthy sex.  This was about built-up tension being released in the dirtiest way possible.  This was about you needing to be fucked right the fucking second, and this was about him needing to get with the fucking program and do it already.

And god, when he did, it felt like floodgates opening.  He slid in, and began increasing his pace right away.  Soon he was pounding into you, grabbing at your body and holding you in place, his arms so strong and solid.  

The look of pleasure on his face was probably the most erotic thing you’ve ever witnessed in your life.  Eyes closed, head tilted back, eyebrows knitted together, hair messy and sweaty.

It only took a few minutes before he was right on edge. You were right there with him. 

You could hear it in his breath right before he came.  Gasps getting louder, interspersed with grunts.

His hips seized, and his body went rigid.  He bit his lip, and you felt his cock spasm in you, come squirting into his condom.  His hands slid up your body again, grabbing at your breasts and he pumped in a couple more times, milking it out.

“Fuck, you close?” he said, his head clouding with the aftermath of the orgasm.  You nodded, whining as he rubbed your clit in fast circles.

“Faster, yeah fuck ,right there, FUCK,” you whimper, back arching up off the couch as you come, your arms wrapped around his neck as he kisses you through the waves of your orgasm.

He slows up on your clit, both of you gasping for breath.  He pulls out and slides off you, letting out a deep breath.

“Fuck that was good” he moaned as you got up to go to the bathroom.

“Meet me in bed,” he called after you.

And so you did. You walked back to your room after, finding him waiting under the blankets.

You crawled in, curling your body into his and sighing, feeling impossibly content.

Sprawled on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, rubbing small circles in your back.

You both fell asleep like that.

_________________________________

WOULD YOU BELIEVE I NEVER EVEN WROTE ANY KIND OF FIC BEFORE LIKE LAST WEEK?? NOW HERE I AM WRITING SMUT ON COMMAND???

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oh JESUS!! ANON!!!!!

i cannot stop thinkin bout this wOW

like oh fuck iMAGINE, he catches you and you’re all embarrassed about it and he’s like “that guy looks like me?” and you’re even more embarrassed and you start to shut the laptop. but he stops you.

he slides into bed next to you, and restarts it. you watch the whole 10 minute clip with him. you poke fun at the bad porn acting, attempting to cut the tension. 

by the end of it, he’s got his hand on your thigh. suddenly, he’s shutting the laptop, straddling himself over you.

“wait, so how did the video start again? if i remember correctly, i believe porn star me began by doing this…” he said, attaching his lips to his neck.

“and then i think he …” he continued, sliding his hand up between your legs.

“and then didn’t he?” he’s sliding down your body, kissing all down your torso, sliding father and farther down…

and hell, it was millions times better than the porn.

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ANON OMG I LOVE YOU FOR THIS

this is a thought i need in my mind so thank you for that fuck yeah

god, but can you imagine? misha sitting alone in his bed, missing jensen in more ways than one, and deciding it would be a great idea to facetime him whilst shirtless to get jensen all riled up.

and maybe jensen answers it in public, not expecting misha to be shirtless, blushing and having to make a quick exit to get alone.

cursing misha up and down, ranting to him about how someone could have seen, not wanting to have had to explain it to someone.and misha lets him, lets him get all pissed, because he loves how hot jensen gets when he’s mad…waiting patiently until jensen’s done.

“so jen, are you done yelling at me? because i was gonna show you my dick, because im like wicked turned on right now, but like yknow, i can end the call and finish myself if you’re not up t…” and jensen’s cutting him off again, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and throwing his phone on the bed so he can strip down.

“aw come on baby, wanted to see you strip for me” misha’s whining, and and jensen can see misha’s hand stroking himself at the bottom corner of the screen and fuck if that doesn’t turn him on even more…thinking of misha alone in his room, getting horny just thinking about jensen.

and seeing misha on his little phone screen, blush spread down his cheeks and chest, lips parted, panting, his own  hand moving faster and harder on his cock.

“jen, see what you fucking do to me?” 

“i dont know mish, i can’t actually see it at all. i don’t know what you’re even taking about” jensen’s teasing him. misha’s biting his lips, watching jensen palm himself, the line silent except for panting and the rustling of sheets.

“fuck jen, fucking need you here right now, need to...fuck….need to touch you”

misha whimpering like this is what really does it for jensen. this man who’s usually Mr. Dominant, is begging and whimpering for him.

it doesn’t take much before they’re both on edge, so fucking close, hands pumping so fast, needing release so bad.

and it’s misha who comes first. he seizes up, eyes shut and mouth open, come squirting on his chest and stomach, hips rolling himself through it. it’s absolutely filthy and jensen can’t get enough.

and fuck, jensen’s gone after that. just seeing misha with his own come on his chest is enough to have jensen coming himself, swearing and grunting, misha watching with a hazy, post-orgasm gaze.

“i’m on my way over” misha says, ending the call.

WOW THIS SNOWBALLED INTO A FICLET REAL FAST sorryyyy??? im not rly sorry

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What the actual fuck. WHY AM I LAUGHING SO HARD.

But think about it.

You’re sitting at the table. Completely alone, eating the breadsticks and sipping on water because, hey, you’re here. Mind as well get a free snack.

Then, out of nowhere, Misha slides into the seat across from you. A soft smile on his face. He doesn’t mention that you’re alone. But, you’re pretty sure he realized that you were stood up. And you’re trying to remain calm, but you can’t because.. it’s Misha fucking Collins? Of ALL people?!

And he asks you questions. He makes you laugh. You tell him how much he means to you. You ask him about the show. 

All this time passing and you two are still snacking on the breadsticks that seem to keep coming. Drinking the water that keeps getting filled. Not ordering any actual food, and you have to admit. It’s nice. You wouldn’t trade this night for anything.

Unfortunately though, all things come to an end. 

Misha smiles at you and tells you how amazing it was to meet you. But before he gets up to leave, he leans in close and puts a finger against his lips…

“Shhh..” He says, quickly shoving the rest of the breadsticks into his coat pocket. Finally he stands and says…

“Don’t forget. Registration for GISHWHES closes in less than a week.” He winks and leaves as quickly as he entered.

I’m crying. This made me laugh. You’re amazing. I fucking love you. ♥

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Prompt Submission: THE-DANGEROUS-GINGER

Prompt: “I want Misha and I to be someplace in public like a restaurant or a movie theater, and him to discreetly tease me and drive me insane with little touches and putting me on edge for hours until we go to the bathroom and just let go right there.”

Words: 349

Could you imagine though? He’d be really sweet and take you to see the movie that you’d been so excited about for weeks, and just when the lights dim, the torture would begin. It would start with a hand on your knee, warm and steady, then slowly progress to feather-light touches across the inside of your thigh, effectively distracting you from your movie. As time progresses the touches get a little bolder and you are all but squirming in your seat, and you haven’t seen the last fifteen minutes of the movie because holy shit he’s distracting.

So when you finally catch his hand and mumble something about needing to go to the bathroom, you’re relieved. Just as you’re about to head back out and try to brave the storm once again, he’s striding through the door and ushering you back into the far open stall, locking it behind him. He silences your frantic questions with a searing kiss and in that moment, you decide to hell with the movie. You quietly drop to your knees in front of him and give him a wicked grin. It’s time to do some teasing of your own.

Within minutes you have him biting into the meat of his palm to keep from moaning lewdly. You think you’ve finally gotten your revenge until he hauls you up and wraps your legs around his waist. In a quick motion, your back is being pressed up against the stall wall and he’s pushed past your soaked panties and is sinking into you. You have to bury your head in the crook of his shoulder and muffle your cries against it as he starts up a brutal pace. It’s short and messy, and you’ve probably been caught by the time you’re gasping his name in his ear, coming blindingly hard around him, but neither of you care. He comes with a quiet grunt on your thigh and the two of you sag against the stall wall.

You giggle hysterically when he leans close and whispers raggedly in your ear, “We should see movies more often.”

strengthcas:

*Submitted anonymously for Late Nights With Misha, I did not write this.

Thinking of sitting on the floor with Misha, cuddling up between his legs. Misha gets frisky starts to tease my breasts, pepper kisses on my neck as one of his hands creeps down between my thighs and he caresses me intimately. 

I can feel his hard cock pressing into my back as he’s all like “do you like that” “tell me how it feels” “do you want me inside” as his fingers wander. I’m rocking my hips to meet his touch, breathing heavy, face flush. Then he’s all like “show me how much you like it, cum for me (name)“ 

His expert touch is so damn good and I cum for him intensely cradling against him, whimpering his name all "oh fuck Misha” and “oh please don’t stop”. 

He brings his fingers up to my face to show me how wet he made me, smug about how easily he can get me off as he pushes his fingers into my mouth and I eagerly suck them clean. His erection still pressing into my back. I sit up, turn around and crawl to him we share a passionate kiss as he releases himself from his underwear. 

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