#misha collinsxreader

“Speaking of the rascal, is he awake?” Misha knew it was highly unlikely, considering the fact that the three year old always fell asleep around this time.

“No,” you looked at the sleeping toddler on your chest. “I’m sorry. You can call after your panel, he’ll be awake then.”

Jensen’s voice sounded from the other line, telling Misha that they had to get on stage, “I love you guys,” he said.

“We love you too.” You hung up the phone, looking around the hotel room.

Misha didn’t know, but you were sat in his hotel room in Phoenix, Arizona, your son napping against your chest.

You knew that Misha wouldn’t be back for another two hours according to Jensen and Jared, so you laid your head back, letting the exhaustion of traveling drag you into sleep.

You were woken up an hour and a half later by a rambunctious three year old jumping around.

“Be careful, baby,” you say as he sends a well aimed kick to your stomach.

“When is daddy going to be here?” Liam asked.

“Soon, I promise.” You sat up, stretching your hands above your head feeling your back crack in multiple places.

“We need to get that new shirt on, okay?” Liam squealed, happy that his many hours of secret keeping have come to an end.

“Okay, mommy. I’ll get it!” He scrambled off the bed, trying to get to his little backpack as quickly as possible. Liam dug around for a moment before victoriously pulling the small blue shirt out.He ran back to you, standing between your legs, “Help me put it on, Mommy!” he yelled at you, trying to wrench his shirt over his head.

You giggled as you helped your rowdy toddler out of his shirt and into the new one, “My, you look mighty handsome,” you said, poking his nose.

He laughed, pulling your finger away form his face. Suddenly, he gasped, “Where’s my picture?”

You stood up and walked over to his backpack, pulling out the white sheet of printer paper with three stick figures scribbled across it, “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let you forget it.”

“Do you think Daddy will like it?”

“I think he’ll love it, baby.” Liam took it from your hands before climbing back onto the bed, anxiously anticipating the arrival of his father.

Your son didn’t have to wait long; as soon as you sat next to him, you heard noises on the other side of the door. Voices to be exact, before you heard the sound of a key card being inserted in the lock and the door swung open.

Misha’s attention was on his phone, so when his three year old son called out to him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Liam! What are you doing here?” Misha wrapped his arms around his son, lifting him up to settle on his hip.

“We wanted to surprise you,” you said, getting up and walking over to your husband.

Misha’s free arm wrapped around your waist, “Well consider me surprised.”

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. It had only been a few days away from him, but it felt like an eternity to you. “I missed you,” you whispered in his neck.

Misha leaned back, kissing you firmly, "Ew! Daddy!" Liam protested to your right. You and Misha pulled back with a laugh. "Look at what I did, Daddy!" Liam squealed, shoving the piece of paper in Misha's face.

Misha leaned back all the way to avoid getting paper cuts on his face, and took the piece of paper from the young boy. "You did this?" Misha asked.

Liam nodded enthusiastically, nearly bursting with pride.

"This should be in a museum, buddy," an excessive amount of real enthusiasm in Misha's voice.

Misha took a minute, looking over the picture, "That's you," Liam said, pointing to the stick figure on the far left, "And that's mommy," he pointed to the figure on the far right, "And that's me," he pointed to the significantly smaller figure in the middle.

"It's amazing, buddy," Misha said, kissing Liam's temple, "Thank you."

Liam wrapped his arms around Misha's neck, "Happy Father's Day, Daddy."

Misha chuckled, "Thank you, Liam." Misha sat down on the bed with Liam still pressed against his chest.

You felt your nerves increase exponentially.

Misha was so close to reading it. So fucking close.

Liam sat up, still in Misha's lap and started to animatedly tell his father about his days at school.

Misha kept eye contact with his son, helping him with the harder words and encouraging him to get through the entire story.

All he has to do is look down. Literally all he has to do. You tried not to let your nerves show as you waited impatiently for Misha to read the shirt.

Finally, Liam finished his story, and Misha's eyes took in his appearance. Your stomach twisted into knots. You were so nervous. Misha read it once, then twice, then thrice.

He slowly turned his head towards you. Tears started to well up in your eyes. "You’re?" Was all Misha could get out before tears were pouring down your face and you were nodding vigorously.

You thought your husband's face would split in two with how wide his grin was.

He set Liam next to him and tackled you to the bed, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his tears on your neck, "I love you so much," he said.

"I love you more.”

"I’m going to be a big brother!” Liam exclaimed, causing the two of you to laugh.

“Yes you are, buddy,” Misha said, laying a kiss on the top of his head.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” Misha said that night. Your head was laid on his chest, his left arm around your waist, his right arm around Liam.

“It was just  a much for me as it was for you,” you said, kissing his neck.

“No, I mean giving me a family.”

You sat up on your elbow, “There is no reason to thank me, love. You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

Misha scoffed lightly, “I love you.”

You kissed his lips, “I love you more.”

happy father’s day!

tags: want to be added or removed? shoot me an ask!

Forevers:

Jensen and Jared were currently working through an emotional scene, a chick-flick moment, as Dean would say. Another person died, and Dean had to break the news to Sam. It wasn’t written in, but Jared said that he wanted to cry at the end. The boys were halfway through the scene when you were interrupted yet again. This time it wasn't your childish co-worker, but the sound of a phone ringing through the set, "Jesus fucking Christ!" You yelled, "At this rate, we're never going to get this scene done!"

The phone kept ringing and ringing, yet no one had stepped up to answer it. You saw a few crew members check their phones, soon realizing that it wasn't their phone that was ringing. "Will someone please shut that damn thing off?" you snapped harshly as the incessant ringing stopped for a moment before picking back up again.

A nearby sound man named Chris followed the noise, he walked down the line of bags against the wall and stopped in front of yours. Your face grew hot as he pulled your phone out of your bag, the obnoxious ringing louder now. "I believe it was your phone, Y/N," Chris said, waving the device in front of your face.

You groaned, hitting yourself on the forehead with the heel of your hand, "Sorry guys," you apologized to the crew that you just yelled at for no good reason.

You reached your hand out for the phone, looking at the caller ID. You didn't recognize the number, but the it was from Austin, Texas. Your home town.

You don't know why you did it. You figured it was just anther telemarketer, but you slid the green answer button, accepting the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?" a masculine sounding voice answered.

Confused, you carried on with the conversation. "This is she," you said. "What can I do for you?"

The man on the other line sighed heavily. "My name is Dr. William Corden from Austin State Hospital," he said. “I’m sorry miss,” your heart raced in your chest; it was never good when someone started a conversation by apologizing, “But we need you to come down here.”

Your voice and your hands were unsteady, and you felt as if you were going to vomit as you tried your best not to cry, “Why would I need to do that?” You feared the worst, and prayed that he didn’t say what you feared.

“We need you to identify the body of Matthew Y/L/N,” he said.

"No," you shook your head vigorously. "No, you're lying, you're-" your vision blurred as the tears threatening to spill over not only poured down your face, but consumed you as your entire world shook and shattered around you as you slid out of the chair and fell to your knees.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?” You heard your name being called repeatedly off to the side. Your entire body wracked with sobs, your hand covering your mouth, as if it would help muffle the sounds. You heard someone call your name again, but you were too far in your own little world to comprehend.

"I'm sorry, miss," the doctor said, "But I'm afraid that you have to be the one to do this. You're his only listed emergency contact."

You sniffed loudly, trying to compose yourself, “O-okay, I work in Vancouver. I’ll be there in a few days,” you replied and pressed the end call button numbly.

“Y/N,” Jensen called your name softly.

You ignored him, trying to control your shaking hands as you found your brother's name in your contacts.

You held the phone to your ear as the monotonous ringing sounded. “C’mon,” you muttered, “Please Matthew.“

Eventually, the ringing stopped. Matthew had never once missed any of your calls. You sobbed loudly, your body wrenching forward with the force of it, and you dialed again. The call went unanswered, eventually going to voicemail. You hung up and threw your phone across set, shattering the device into multiple pieces as it came in contact with the concrete wall. Your breaths came in hiccups, thoughts of your baby brother plaguing your mind. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating you as you remembered practically everything about your brother. The face that he always pulled when he was lying. The times that you and him would drive around in your car with no destination at all. The stupid things he did just to get you to laugh. How he would purposely fall at random times, tell corny jokes that were bound to get you laughing for a good few minutes, and the voices and imitations he would do about annoying people in the stores your mother dragged you to when you were younger.

“No! Please, Matthew!”

“Y/N!” someone yelled out to you. “What happened?” Their voice sounded far away and garbled. It was almost like there were cotton balls stuffed in your ears.

The memories of your younger brother flitted around in your mind, taunting you. You drew your knees up to your chest, burying your face in them. You would never get to hear his laugh, see his smile, see the awkward teenager that still lived inside his body even though he was over thirty. You wouldn’t be able to wrap your arms around his skinny frame when he needed to be held up, or you just needed a hug. You would never get to see your best friend ever again.

You were hyperventilating, and people were calling out to you trying to get through to you, but all you could see was your brother and his smile slowly fading from your mind.

It was getting harder to draw oxygen into your lungs. Harder to expel the carbon dioxide. You couldn't breathe. Your heart rate sped up, your hands finding their way to your hair, tugging harshly, trying to feel anything besides the overwhelming sense of fear and despair.

"Y/N!" One voice pierced through your haze. You felt two strong arms pull you into a warm chest.

You let the person hold you as you moved your hands from your hair to clutch their shirt, probably ruining it with your tears and mascara.

The person's arms wrapped around your entire body, somehow helping you block out the entire world. "Y/N, breathe," the person instructed.

You listened to the person, taking deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. The person started rubbing circles on your back, helping you through the panic attack you were experiencing. Eventually, your body relaxed from the fetal position you were in and your arms wrapped around the person's torso. Your breathing evened out, your heart stopped racing, and you could hear clearly.

"Hey, let it all out, it's okay," the voice you now recognized as Misha said in your ear. "What happened, Y/N?" Misha asked carefully.

You shook your head. If you said it out loud it'd become real. You didn't want it to be real.

"Y/N," Misha said again, "What happened, sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath, your lungs burning with the relief of getting proper oxygen. "Matthew is dead," you choked on a sob.

Misha lifted a hand and ran it down his face. He knew how much you loved your brother. His death would take years for you to get over. "Okay," Misha said in your ear. "Let's get you out of here."

You tried to stand up on your own, but Misha's arms went around your torso and under your legs, lifting you with ease.

"Call Eric, please. Tell him that we need to postpone shooting for a little while," Misha said to Jensen as he carried you off set and to your trailer.

You cried the entire time Misha carried you, tears constantly pouring down your face. You sniffed multiple times, your nose becoming congested, making you feel a headache start to form.

Once Misha got to your trailer, he found it unlocked. He swung the door open with little difficulty, and carried you to your bed. Misha started to walk away, trying to give you your privacy. "Stay, please," your broken and cracked voice instantly had an effect on Misha as he took off his shoes and crawled under the blankets with you.

You burrowed your face into his chest yet again.

You wanted to cry some more, scream at the top of your lungs even, but you had no more tears to shed, and all of your energy was spent. Soon enough, you were snoring lightly as Misha rubbed soothing circles in your back.

Misha was warm and comfortable with you in his arms, and he too fell asleep rather quickly.

Almost an hour later, a sharp knock at the trailer door startled Misha awake. He looked over at you, sighing a breath of relief as he saw that you were still sound asleep.

Misha slid out from under you, but your eyes fluttered slightly like you were about to wake up. Acting quickly, Misha replaced his spot with a pillow. You wrapped your arms around the pillow tightly, falling back to sleep.

Misha padded silently down the length of the trailer, opening the creaky door slowly.

Misha was surprised to see his boss, Eric Kripke standing on the other side.

Misha hoped that he wasn't about to be berated as he stepped outside to talk to the man.

"How's she holding up?" Eric asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

"She passed out from crying so much. She's devastated."

Eric sighed, "She doesn't deserve this," he said.

"I couldn't agree with you more," Misha said. "I just want you to know that I'm going to be staying with her for a little while. She's going to need someone to help her get through this."

Eric nodded, "Which brings me to the reason why I'm here. I want you and Y/N to know that you guys can take as long as you need, I understand that this is something that isn't going to get better in a few days. I'm sure the fans and the people at CW will understand too."

Misha let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Thank you, Eric."

Eric only smiled before turning away and walking towards set, probably to tell the rest of the cast and crew what had happened.

Feeling better about the whole situation, Misha turned on his heels, making his way back into your trailer.

Misha was surprised to find that you weren't in your bed or on the couch, but in the bathroom judging by the light coming from under the bathroom door. He sat on the edge of your bed, patiently waiting for you to return.

He didn't have to wait long; you came out of the bathroom less than two minutes later. You had washed the ruined makeup off your face and threw your hair up. Your eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, your face pale.

You hadn't noticed Misha's presence yet, so Misha greeted you with a soft, "Hey," which scared you slightly.

"Jesus, Mish," you said with your hand over your heart.

"How are you holding up?" Misha asked.

You sniffed and Misha could see the tears forming in your eyes, "I just lost my baby brother," you said. "I'm in pain, Mish."

Misha stood and made his way over to you, "I'm so sorry that this happened to you, Y/N."

Without a second thought, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Misha's abdomen, nuzzling your face in his chest, "I don't know how to do this, Misha," you choked out.

Misha kissed the top of your head and rubbed circles in your back. "You won't be doing it alone Y/N. I'll be with you the entire time," he said.

"They need me to go to Austin and identify his body," you said slowly. The words still didn't sound right to you.

Misha knew that seeing your baby brother's body would nearly kill you. "Then I'm coming with you," he said.

You looked up from his, yet again tear stained, button up shirt, "I can't ask you to do that," you said.

Misha looked at your red-rimmed and puffy eyes, "You didn't ask. I'm offering, and there's no way for you to say no. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not."

You nodded and buried your face in Misha's shirt again, breathing in the scent of him. "Thank you."

You packed a small duffel bag with a few essentials while Misha went to his trailer to pack the things he would need for his impromptu trip.

You had a small apartment in Austin that you lived in whilst on hiatus, so you didn't need to pack very much.

You sat in your trailer after Misha had left, wondering what was going to happen when you got to Austin. You very much didn't want to ID your brother. You didn't want to arrange a funeral that only you would be attending.

Twenty minutes after he had left, Misha came back in to your trailer, lugging a suitcase behind him. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Misha led the way out of the trailer, almost running right into Jensen. "Whoa there," Jensen said, taking a step away from Misha as he burst through the door.

"Shit, sorry man," Misha apologized to his best friend.

"Don't worry about it," Jensen said. "I just wanted to say goodbye to you guys, and to have a safe trip," Jensen said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him, "Thank you, Jay."

Jensen gave you a quick hug in return, "You're welcome, Y/N."

Misha and Jensen said their goodbyes, and the two of you went to the parking lot where Clif was waiting to take the two of you to the airport. The entire ride there was silent with only he radio playing the classic rock station in the background.

You watched the scenery of Vancouver pass by. You didn’t think about anything, you only watched as the houses got closer and closer together, and you passed more cars on the road.

The ride to the airport flew by, and soon enough, you found yourself saying goodbye to Clif.

Once  you and Misha  got your luggage from the back of the car, you went over to the front desk and purchased two tickets on the earliest flight to Austin.

As your luck would have it, the plane was set for boarding in only a matter of 20 minutes, which gave you and Misha time to do anything necessary before boarding the plane.

Twenty minutes later, and you were situated at a window seat with Misha on your left.

You always hated airplanes. They were too big, too loud, and you were afraid that they would fall from the sky at any minute.

After the monstrosity that was take off, your exhaustion hit you again like a freight train.

You yawned and your eyelids became heavy.

Misha glanced over at you as you nodded off to sleep. He pulled you by the shoulder, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck. Misha sat deeper in his seat and rested his head on yours, getting comfortable. He knew the flight was going to be long, so he tried his best to sleep for some of it. Only sleep never came, and he sat staring at the back of the seat in front of him for the entire flight. He was absorbed in his own thoughts. Misha had never met your brother in person, but he knew from the stories you told about him that he was a good person. You always talked about your brother in the most positive way. You had put him on a pedestal high above everyone else. You talked about him like he was your hero, the greatest person on the planet. You loved that boy with all your heart. And now, he was dead, and you were crushed.

Misha looked down at your peacefully sleeping face. You were adorable when you slept. Misha loved you more than you could ever know, but he was too much of a wuss to admit his feelings for you. Something Jensen and Jared greatly enjoyed teasing him about.

For the entire hour plane ride, you slept on Misha's shoulder. Misha move a muscle, knowing that the events of the day had worn you out.

When there was only five minutes before landing, Misha shook your shoulder gently, "Y/N," he said, "We're here."

You looked around, confused to be sitting on a plane. It took a moment for reality to sink in, but once it did, it hit you hard.

"Misha," you whispered, "My brother..." you couldn't even finish your sentence, afraid of the answer.

"It wasn't a dream, Y/N. I'm sorry," he said with an apologetic look.

You swallowed thickly, "That's what I was afraid of."

The plane landed, and Misha lead you off with his hand on the small of your back, guiding you forward.

While you waited at luggage return, you looked around. You hadn't been back in Austin in a long time. You just wished you were coming back under better circumstances.

Once your luggage came around, you picked it up and rushed outside to catch a cab. Luckily, there was one still open, which you and Misha slid into.

"Where to?" the older driver asked.

"Austin State Hospital," you squeaked.

The driver looked at you in the rear view mirror, a look of pity etched across his face. He didn't say anything though. He just turned his attention to the road and pressed his foot to the gas.

It took quite a long time to get to the hospital; there was so much traffic, but once you and Misha stepped out of the cab, and it pulled away from the curb, you wished that you had never arrived.

You looked up at the tall building. Somewhere inside this very building, you thought, my brother's body is sitting.

You looked up at Misha. He was already looking at you, "Are you ready to do this?" he asked.

You shook your head, "I don't want to see my dead brother, Misha."

Misha took your hand. "I will be here the whole time if you need me."

You took a deep breath, and took a wobbly step, your legs felt like jello. You took another step, and then another, right to the nurse's desk at the front.

"What can I do for you?" a male nurse in cartoon character scrubs asked you.

You swallowed back your tears, "I was- um..." you fumbled over your own words. "I was called in to identify a body."

The nurse took on a softer tone. "Who's body are you supposed to be identifying?" he asked.

"Matthew Y/L/N."

The nurse tapped away at the keyboard for a few moments, "Okay, you can just sit over there for a few minutes. Someone from the morgue will be here to guide you."

You and Misha walked over to the chairs the nurse gestured to and took a seat.

Your leg bounced up and down rapidly, your stomach was in knots, and a lump was forming in the back of your throat.

It seemed like only a matter of seconds before a man was making his way over to you, but in reality it was almost fifteen minutes you were waiting. He was dressed in teal scrubs, a metal framed pair of glasses sat perched on his long nose. He looked to be about 50, his hair only slightly gray.

"Are you Y/N Y/L/N?" he asked you,

You nodded and stood with your right hand outstretched, "That would be me," you said as you shook hands with the man.

"Is this your boyfriend?" he asked.

You looked down to your intertwined hands, "Oh, no. He's just... He's here for moral support," you explained.

Misha extended his right hand, "Misha Collins."

The doctor took Misha's hand in a handshake, "I'm Dr. Corden. But you can just call me William," he said.

You nodded slightly.

"If you could follow me," William said, turning on his heel and walking briskly towards a set of double wooded doors.

He led you down a few flights of stairs, multiple hallways, and through a few doors.

You could feel yourself start to tremble, so you fumbled blindly for Misha's hand.

Once you found it, your fingers slipped through his perfectly, and he squeezed your hand reassuringly.

Finally William led you to a metal door with a plaque on it. 'Morgue' it read.

You took a deep breath to steady your pounding heart.

Misha's hand left yours and his arm settled around your waist.

William pushed open the door and led the two of you inside.

The entire room reeked of antiseptic. You could practically see your reflection in the floor, your shoes squeaking on the polished tiles. The silver drawers containing the bodies were just like the ones you've seen in the movies. Except now, they were even more daunting.

William came to a stop in front of one of the drawers. On the front there was a card holder with your brother's name on it.

"I'm going to warn you," William said. "What you're going to see is gruesome. It was a bullet would to the temple. I can assure you, however, that he didn't feel any pain. He chose a good place to shoot. Anywhere else would've caused him tremendous pain."

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Your palms started sweating profusely. You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice.

William took a deep breath and unlocked the door. He pulled out the tray holding the body.

What you saw literally punched the breath from your lungs.

The reality of the situation finally sunk in. Your brother was dead.

His face was pale and slightly blue due to lack of oxygen.

You looked at his face, his arms, his shoulders, and the small part of his chest that was not covered by the white sheet.

"Ma'am," William said. "Is this your brother?"

Tears poured down your cheeks as you nodded.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I need a verbal answer."

You took a deep shuddering breath, "Yes, this is my brother," you sobbed loudly and turned into Misha's side, fisting the cotton shirt he wore.

"Could you give us a minute?" You heard Misha's deep voice rumble.

You didn't see William nod, but you heard the door shut behind him, and you let the sobs consume your body.

Misha wrapped his other arm around you and rested his chin on your head. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he said.

You moved your arms, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades.

Misha felt it was as if you were trying to claw your way inside his body.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself before you turned around to face your brother's body again.

You laid your hand on the tattoo on his clavicle. It was a bird. A dove, to be exact. Matthew had gotten it right after you landed the directing job on Supernatural. "Now my little birdie will always be with me," he said when he revealed it to you.

You looked at your brother's face. The mole that was under his right eye, the acne scars littering his nose and under eyes. You would never get to see your brother ever again, so you were trying your best to memorize every detail you could.

The bullet wound in his head was stitched up, but it still looked gnarly.

You bent down and laid a kiss on his forehead. "Say hi to mom and dad for me, Matt," you whispered to him.

You heard a tiny sniffle. You turned around to see Misha trying to wipe the tears off of his face.

"Thank you for being here," you said to him.

"Anything for you, Y/N," he replied.

After you thanked William for his time, Misha called a cab and helped you back outside.

You were silent the entire way back to your apartment besides giving the cab driver your address.

You lived on the fourteenth floor, so the two of you took an empty elevator up to your floor. You were thankful that no one else entered the elevator. You were a mess and strangers didn't need to see you like this.

You pulled your keys out of your pocket, unlocking your front door and shoving it open.

"Uhm..." you fumbled for the right words, "Kitchen is in there," you said pointing to the doorway leading to the kitchen, "Help yourself to anything I have. It isn't much though because I don't spend much time here. Bathroom is down the hallway, first door on the left. my bedroom is the second door on the right. You can sleep there for tonight. I'll take the couch," you rushed the words out.

Misha listened to every word you said, setting his suitcase on the floor by your dining room table. "I'll take the couch, Y/N," he said. "I'm not going to make you give up your own bed."

You rolled your eyes at his response.

You ran a hand down your face, a thought running across your mind, "I'm going to need to arrange a funeral for him," you said.

Misha took your hand and led you to your couch, "Who should I call?"

Two excruciating hours later, you had made arrangements with the nearest funeral home, cemetery, and the hospital.

"Is there anyone you want to invite?" Misha asked carefully.

You shook your head, "My parents are dead, we don't talk to my family members; they hate us. And Matt didn't really have any friends. He lived alone and was in between jobs."

"So it's just going to be you and me?" He clarified.

"I guess so."

Misha never left your side for the entire week.

He helped you shop for groceries, even paying for them, despite your protests. He held you when you cried. He stayed with you at night, helping to keep the nightmares away. He helped plan the funeral. He was your rock. The only light you were able to see in the dark time.

With every passing day, you fell deeper and deeper in love with him.

You would be sitting on the couch, watching a movie with him, and look up to see him laugh. The way that his eyes crinkled around the edges, and he smiled widely. You'd be laying in your bed with him after you had a nightmare. He'd have his arms around you, holding you and letting you cry. He'd be making dinner for you in a pair of his sweats and a t-shirt. He'd be telling a stupid joke that he found somewhere, hoping to get you to laugh. Every single one of those scenarios was disgustingly domestic, but every single time, you had to restrain yourself from reaching up and kissing him, and thanking him for all he's doing for you.

But then you'd realize that Misha was here because he pitied you. He wasn't looking for a relationship. He was just here to help you through the tough time, then he'd be out of your apartment and back to his in Vancouver.

You had the funeral scheduled for a Sunday. It was the only available time that the funeral and cemetery had. You were dressed in a knee length black dress, a black cardigan on your shoulders, and black ballet flats on your feet. Misha was in a pair of black slacks, a white button down shirt and a black suit jacket. He looked good to say the least.

"Thank you for doing this with me," you said as you made your way downstairs to your car.

"I wasn't going to let you do this alone," Misha said, squeezing your hand.

You gave him a small smile before leading him to the parking garage. You found your car rather quickly and slid in, starting the engine.

Both of you were silent as you made the short journey to the funeral home. You were confused when you pulled into the parking lot. It was almost impossible to find a parking space with how many cars were already parked.

"They did say two, right?" You asked Misha as you finally found a place to park your car.

Misha looked just as confused as you, "Yeah. They did."

You grabbed your phone and took the keys out of the ignition, getting out of the car and making your way to the front doors.

When you opened the door, you almost broke down right then.

Inside of the funeral home, stood every single cast and crew member. Your hand flew to your mouth as you gasped in surprise. "Right, I forgot to tell you that I invited a few of your friends," Misha said in your ear.

Jensen and Jared were standing at the front of the group, matching suits and stances. They wore nearly the same get up at Misha, and stood with their hands in their pockets.

You rushed forward, enveloping both of the giant men in a hug, "Thank you for coming here," you said to them.

"We wouldn't miss it for the world," Jared said. You knew that he was speaking for everyone in the room when he said that.

You had managed to thank almost everyone for coming, breaking down into tears on more than one occasion because of how supportive the Supernatural family is.

After the viewing, everyone made their way to the cemetery where Matthew's body was laid to rest right next to your parents.

You cried the entire time, tears slowly making their way down your face as they carried Matthew's casket over to the six foot hole, and lowered his body down.

Everyone gave you a hug and whispered words of condolences in your ear before they left. Jensen and Jared promised to check back in on you within the next few days, and you asked them to say hello to their families for you.

After everyone except for Misha had left, you were still seated in the front row, staring at your brother's fresh grave.

Misha made his way over to you, sitting down in the chair next to yours. You quickly turned your head and buried it in Misha's neck. His arm came across your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. "Why did he have to die?" you asked Misha.

In that moment, Misha felt his heart shatter. He brought his other arm around you, practically dragging you into his lap. "I can't give you an answer, honey," Misha said into your hair.

"He wanted to do things in life," you said. "He wanted to be a photographer. Go to Germany and France and Italy. He wanted to go on adventures and live life," you said.

Misha laid a kiss on your head, "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure," Misha said.

You giggled slightly, making Misha's heart soar. "Did you just quote Harry Potter?"

Misha laughed, "It was appropriate."

You lifted your head, "Thank you for being here, Misha."

Misha tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, "There's no place I'd rather be," he said quietly.

Your breath caught in your throat, Misha's face was getting closer, his breath was mingling with yours, a mere millimeter away from your lips he said, "Tell me to stop, and I will."

"Don't," you said, crashing your lips to his.

The past week was nowhere near perfect. You were your lowest point. There were times when you didn't want to keep breathing. But Misha was there for it all. He kept you grounded. He helped you through your loss, and you knew that he was going to be there for you no matter what.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?” Misha grasps your cold hand.

You nod and grimace as the needle touches your skin.

Three hours later, the intricate pattern is permanently etched into your skin.

“I see you took my advice,” Misha said from behind you. “To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure,” he read the words on your collarbone.

The words were surrounded by three small doves. One for your mom, one for your dad, and one for your brother. "Now my little birdie will always be with me," you said to yourself, your finger tracing the black ink.

You looked over your shoulder at Misha, “Thank you,” you whispered. "For being with me and staying by my side."

Misha turned you around and embraced you, being careful of your tattoo.

"You're really strong, you know that?"

You blushed, "Shut up."

Misha pecked your lips and rolled his eyes, "I'm being serious."

You giggled lightly, "Whatever you say, babe."

There would be days that you really missed your brother. Days when you didn't even want to get out of bed because of how guilty you felt that you were still alive, and he wasn't. For those days, Misha was right at your side, reminding you to drink water and eat food. He whispered words of love in your ear, reminding you that you were not alone.

Some of the best days of your life were also the worst because your brother wasn't there to celebrate with you. When you directed your very first movie. When you moved in with Misha and he proposed. When you were married to the love of your life. When you were bringing your son into the world. "Can we name his Matthew?" you asked your husband. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he said with a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

You would have good days and bad days. Days where you missed your brother more than anything, and wished to see him one last time. There would be days when you would remember your brother, and days where you would tell stories of him to your kids, a note of pride and happiness in your voice.

You would have your ups in downs, but the one constant thing that you could always count on was Misha's love for you.

That was all you needed.

tags: want to be added or removed? shoot me a message or an ask!

i love hearing what you have to say

You sighed in frustration, heading down the hall to continue looking and almost running straight into Jensen.

“Where’s Misha?” you asked before he could say anything.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head. “In the green room.”

“Fucking figures. I was just in there,” you rolled your eyes, walking past him and making your way to the green room, hearing Jensen yell out a “good luck” behind you.

“Green room, green room,” you mumbled to yourself as you searched the hall,  when suddenly a familiar voice rang out behind you.

“There’s my girl!”

You immediately turned around, recognizing the voice as Misha’s. Fighting to ignore the warmth that blossomed in your chest from his words, you stood your ground and gave him a death glare. “Where the hell have you been?!” you asked in frustration.

Misha merely smiled, walking up to you and taking your hands. “Where I always am when I don’t have a panel. The green room.”

Your shoulders sagged, your brow furrowing in confusion. “I overheard a fan say something about you running around the hotel naked, and I have been looking for you frantically ever since!”

Misha quirked a brow at you, a smirk spreading across his face. “So you were running around this hotel trying to find me naked?”

“Yes?”

“Sounds to me like you wanted to see me naked,” he grinned.

You could feel your cheeks burn hot. “In case you forgot, as your publicist, it’s my job to make sure you don’t fuck up your reputation. At least try to keep it classy, Collins.”

Misha rolled his eyes playfully, holding your hand and walking you toward the green room. You once again desperately tried to ignore the somersaults in your stomach from the contact, repeating in your head the same thing you always told yourself when he got close to you: It’s a professional relationship. Misha does not care for you that way. Misha is just a flirt. Move the fuck on.

You just hoped it wasn’t actually that obvious how in love with him you were. As difficult as it was for you, you had managed to maintain a professional working relationship with Misha for the past two years and counting. There was no way you were going to lose your job now by accidentally letting your feelings slip.

“You worry too much; my reputation is perfect,” Misha teased as the two of you walked into the green room.

“And who’s responsible for that?” you quirked a brow at him, a proud smirk on your face.

Misha chuckled. “My gorgeous publicist.”

“I thought you were his personal assistant?” Brianna suddenly walked up to the two of you and gave you each a quick hug. Misha let go of your hand then, and you internally scolded yourself for being disappointed.

“I’m both,” you explained with a smile.

“Hey, you three!” Richard suddenly interrupted, pointing to the three of you.

You, Brianna and Misha all looked up to see Richard sitting in the middle of a circle, along with Tahmoh, Rob, Matt, Kim, Osric, and Ruth.

“Come join us for a little truth or dare!”

“Oh good lord,” you mumbled, attempting to back out of the room before Misha took hold of your hand once more to keep you from leaving.

“Nope, you’re coming with me,” he stated simply, dragging you over to the circle with a victorious smile on his face.

You sighed, plopping down in the circle between Misha and Kim.

“So,” Richard clapped his hands, an excited grin on his face. “I’m assuming everyone here knows how to play, so we’re just gonna go ahead and start. Osric! Truth or dare.”

Osric pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “Uh…dare.”

A wicked smirk crossed Richard’s features. “I dare you to go interrupt Mark’s panel and walk up on stage shirtless.”

Everyone in the circle got excited and started laughing when Osric suddenly looked terrified. “I meant truth.”

“Nope, can’t change it, rules are rules. Let’s go!” Richard shouted with a smile, getting up from the circle and pulling Osric to stand up.

“I immediately regret this decision,” Osric muttered to himself, taking his shirt off.

“Hell yeah, Osric!” Kim shouted.

“Get it!” Brianna joined in.

You laughed as you watched them before glancing over at Misha, almost startled to find him staring at you. You couldn’t really decipher the look of his face as his eyes searched yours…a look of awe maybe, almost like he were looking at something very precious.

Suddenly, the sound of roaring cheers and high-pitched screams from the other room broke the two of you out of your trance, and you realized Osric was up on stage shirtless. You chuckled, watching him and Richard come back in the room a minute later, Richard looking victorious and Osric looking completely mortified.

“Next!” Richard began, looking at you. “Y/N, truth or dare.”

“Hmmm….,” you thought aloud. You always loved doing dares, not one to back away from a challenge. You were ready for anything Richard threw at you. “Dare.”

Richard tapped his lips in thought before his eyes landed on you. “I dare you to kiss Tahmoh.”

Your eyes went wide in surprise; you were definitely not expecting that one. You glanced up at Tahmoh, who was already looking at you, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I’m ok with it if you are.”

Everyone’s eyes were on you, including Misha’s. You briefly realized that you had never seen Misha look so tense; his jaw tight and his face completely blank.

You cleared your throat and avoided Misha’s eyes before giving Tahmoh a short nod. You knew Richard was never going to let you out of this one, and honestly, you couldn’t deny that Tahmoh was incredibly handsome. It certainly wasn’t the worst dare you've ever done. “Sure.”

You scooted towards him then, stopping when your knees were touching his. He gently placed his hand on the side of your neck as you both leaned in and kissed gently, his lips surprising you with how soft they were. You didn’t really know him very well, but damn, he could kiss. Your lips moved easily against his, and it wasn’t until several seconds later that Misha broke the two of you apart.

“Jesus, I think that’s enough,” Misha barked, slightly raising his voice in irritation and surprising everyone in the circle.

Tahmoh cleared his throat awkwardly as you moved back to your spot, and you kept your eyes glued to the floor, feeling Misha staring at you. So much for trying to keep it professional, you inwardly scolded yourself.

“So…anyways….,” Richard awkwardly continued. “Ruth, truth or dare.”

“I must be the only smart one in this bunch. Truth, of course.”

“What color is your underwear?”

You huffed out a laugh. “What kind of question is that?”

“I don’t know! Truths are hard to make interesting, that’s why everyone picks dare,” Richard defended.

Ruth laughed before whispering, “I’m not wearing any.”

Everyone in the circle went nuts with laughter except for Misha, you noticed, who was staring intensely at his hands with a clenched jaw. What the hell was his problem?

“Misha!” Richard’s voice broke Misha’s trance. “Truth or dare.”

“Easy. Dare.”

“I dare you….to kiss Y/N.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You immediately felt a jolt of adrenaline course through your body, your heart pounding wildly out of your chest. Kiss your boss? Kiss the man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him? You were terrified to look at him, not wanting to see what was probably a look of disgust on his face. He would not be ok with this. At all. You were his assistant. His publicist. Someone he merely worked with.

Misha must have seen the terrified look on your face, because you suddenly felt a gentle and reassuring hand on your knee. “Y/N, you can look at me,” he said quietly, waiting for you to turn to face him.

You took a shaky inhale, willing yourself to look at him. Your eyes met his kind, warm and loving blue ones, and you felt yourself relax a little. He was actually ok with this.

He scooted in towards you, and you weren’t sure if you should be concerned from how fast your heart was pounding; at this point, you could practically feel it in your throat.

“Is this ok?” he whispered for only you to hear.

You couldn’t speak, so you nodded slowly, unable to breath as he placed both of his hands gently on your cheeks and began to lean in. He was so close now, your noses brushing as you shared the same air space. Your lips were just about to touch when—

“What the hell are all of you doing?” Mark exclaimed in amusement, startling everyone. “Misha, they’ve been waiting for you for the past five minutes. Your panel’s on now.”

You and Misha awkwardly pulled back from each other, and you could’ve sworn you saw disappointment flash across his features before he gave you a smile that you immediately saw through.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he winked, standing up and following Mark out of the room.

You sat there momentarily stunned at what just happened. You had a million thoughts racing through your head simultaneously, and you needed to get out of there and clear your head.

“I’ll be back guys,” you mustered up a smile as you stood up.

“You good?” Kim asked, looking concerned.

“Oh, yeah! I’m good, I’m just gonna go to my room for a little bit and relax,” you tried to reassure her, turning around and making your way to your room.

“What the hell am I doing,” you muttered to yourself as you walked into the elevator, pacing after the doors closed.

You suddenly heard the elevator ding, and the doors opened to reveal Jared, a big smile on his face as he recognized you.

“Y/N! Hey, how are you?” he asked, stepping into the elevator.

“I’m good, I’m good! What about you?” you replied, smiling at how friendly he was. You loved Jared; Besides Misha, he was always the easiest for you to talk to.

“Great! I heard some of ya’ll were playing some truth or dare,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement.

“Yeaaaaah, it was something,” you chuckled awkwardly.

“Any crazy dares? Besides Osric, I saw that one.”

“Oh nothing really,” you tried to play it off as nothing. “I had to kiss Tahmoh, and Misha got dared to kiss me, but he got saved by the bell; he had to go to his panel before we got to it.”

You saw some sort of emotion flicker in Jared’s eyes for a moment, but before you could try to decipher it, it was gone.

“That so? Interesting.” He got weirdly quiet, and before he said anything else, the elevator dinged, his floor approaching. “I’ll see ya, Y/N.”

“Yeah, you too,” you said, furrowing your brow as you watched him walk away. What the hell was that?

Shrugging it off as nothing, you finally made your way off the elevator and towards your room, making a beeline to the shower.

You ended up spending over an hour in the shower by accident. You were trying to take the time to clear your thoughts, but your mind kept playing the scene over and over again in your head.

Misha looking at you so warmly. Misha leaning in so close to you. Misha’s hands on your face, gently pulling you towards him. Your nose brushing his.

Stop it!

You groaned frustratedly as you grabbed your towel and dried yourself off. You were never going to keep your fucking sanity if you kept making up romantic fantasies with your boss. Maybe some distance from him would do you some good, help you actually clear your head.

And that’s when you got a text from Misha, letting you know that he and some of the cast were going out for drinks and wanting to know if you would join.

You bit your lip as you thought it over. You couldn’t give into him so easily; you refused to let yourself get heartbroken all because you couldn’t stay away from your boss.    

Sorry, I’m super tired. Next time though!

Misha was quick to respond.

Please? I’d really love it if you came with us

Damn him. Why must he make this so difficult? You sighed, standing your ground.

Sorry. I’m just not feeling up to it tonight.

And with that, you turned your phone off, crawling into bed to watch some TV and take your mind off of things.

————————————————

“She said no,” Misha sighed, running a hand over his face before taking a shot. “Did I fuck this up?”

“No, dude, it was just a dare,” Jared reassured him, patting him on the shoulder. “Maybe she really is just tired.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe she just thinks this is a strictly professional relationship. What if she likes Tahmoh? You guys didn’t see it, I had to practically break them apart,” Misha rambled, shaking his head in annoyance as he remembered watching the two of you kiss.

“Oh good lord, you broke them apart?” Jensen asked in disbelief, shaking his head. “That’s really obvious, man.”

“Yes, I know that! My jealousy got the best of me, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Dude, what did I tell you about a month after you hired her?” Jensen pointed out, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Jensen,” Misha groaned, looking up at the bar TV.

“I said ‘I see the way you look at her, and you’re playing a dangerous game’. Didn’t I say it?” Jensen continued.

“Yes, Jensen. You said it,” Misha deadpanned, not in the mood to hear ‘I told you so’ from his friend.

“Look, why don’t you just go to her now and tell her how you feel?” Jared suggested.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Jensen grumbled.

“Why?!”

“Because she’s his assistant! They have a professional working relationship, and if she doesn’t feel the same, everything’s gonna go to shit,” Jensen explained, taking another sip of whiskey. “And Rob agrees with me.”

Misha furrowed his brows. “Rob? How does he know?”

Jensen rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Dude, everyone but her knows. You’re literally the only one that keeps their publicist with them almost 24/7.”

“Yeah, well, regardless, I think she feels the same. I see the way she looks at him,” Jared argued.

Misha’s ears perked up at this. “How does she look at me?”

Jared smirked. “The exact same way you look at her. I’m telling you, dude, just go to her.”

Misha bit his lip as he thought over what to do. He could lose you all together if you didn’t feel the same. But what if you did? He had to take that chance, he decided. You were more than worth it.

Scooting out of his chair, he slapped a few dollar bills onto the table before slipping his jacket on and grabbing his phone.

“Go get her, Mish,” Jared smiled.

God, he just hoped he wouldn’t regret this.

—————————————

You were half asleep with the TV still on when someone knocked on your door, startling you awake.

You groaned, tossing the sheets back and stumbling over to the door. “I’m coming!”

You unlocked the door and swung it open, your mouth falling open in surprise.

“Misha?”

****************************************