Literature
Misha Collins x Reader (Against All Odds)
You awoke with a start to the bleary, cheerful tone of your phone’s alarm. A loud groan escaped your lips as you dropped your throbbing head back onto the pillow with a thud. Pulling your arm out from under your warm covers, you proceeded to blindly fumble through the used tissues and the empty bottle of nasal spray until you felt your fingers brush the loud, vibrating, source of annoyance. With a heave you rolled onto your back and grimaced as the bright light from your phone’s screen washed over your face as you opened up a new text message.
‘Sorry guys, looks like Jensen’s team wins this one. I’m out.’