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Destiel - A Little Piece of Heaven (Chpt. 2)The school days always seemed to drag. What, if Dean wasn't flirting with everything and anything that had boobs he was being shouted at by bossy teachers when he was near falling asleep in his lessons. He didn't WANT to fail, he just wasn't good with listening. Unless the teacher was hot, which wasn't often at all.
Sam and himself didn't share any lessons, so he couldn't even annoy his younger brother, which was, although he loved him dearly, his speciality.
Dean was in his Psychology class, when there was a light rap on the door. His teacher smiled. "Come in!" She motioned to the person behind the door, and then he walked in. This, lanky, brown haired boy that was gorgeous stepped into the room, sheepishly looking down and withdrawing himself immediately from the rest of the class. "Class, this is Castiel Novak and he has recently transferred here from England. Castiel, why don't you tell the class something about yourself?" The over enthusiastic teacher grinned.
"Oh, um, well, I'm u
Destiel - A Little Piece of Heaven (Chpt. 1)"Dean hurry up! We're gonna' be late, dumbass!" Dean could vaguely hear his brother shouting at him from downstairs, but the comfort of his bed was also incredibly inviting. "I will leave without your sorry ass if you don't get up within the next 5 minutes!"
Dean groaned, going to turn over and instead managing to fall out of the opposite side of his bed, barely missing his bedside table. "DEAN!" Sam shouted, his fingers drumming on the banister of the stairs as he sighed frustratedly; his brother was too lazy and demotivated to be a college student. "Okay okay Sammy I'm getting up, fucking hell." The older Winchester stood up and rubbed his head, yawning and stretching in front of his mirror.
For someone so lazy, he really did have "abs of steel" as he'd brag to his brother.
With his boxers slung low on his hips he walked towards his wardrobe, pulling out an "AC/DC: Back In Black" printed shirt and also a plaid shirt to go over the top. He also slung on his combat bo
Red Riding HoodI want to believe people so badly when they say they won’t bite
that I contemplate climbing into their smiling jaws
thinking that it might be better to be split in two than left hanging.
But always, I draw my red hood and flit back into the forest
running in the shadows of pathways, never stepping into clearings
because I’ve spent my whole life in the wilderness
and I still can’t tell the wolves from the woodsmen.
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