Destiel Oneshots

the perks of being a wallflower

Wallflower!Cas, Jock!Dean

Okay so The Perks of Being a Wallflower is like one of my favorite movies along with Ten Inch Hero, My Girl, Stand By Me, Stonehenge Apocalypse, and The Fundamentals of Caring. I know, I'm a big weirdo.

So they're not friends but like acquaintances and Dean stands up for Cas when his jock friends are assholes. And Dean falls in love with Cas.

(Dean's POV)

Fucking Monday morning, kill me.

So I drop off Sammy at the middle school then pull up to the high school, tugging on my varsity jacket.

I walked up to my locker, checking out some girl's ass on the way, then I felt someone clap me on the back.

"Hey brother!" (I fukin hate benny idk why)

"Benny! How was your weekend?"

"Same old, same old."

I shrugged and pulled my math textbook out of my rusty red locker.

"See you in English," he called as he jogged down the hall.

The day was quite uneventful, until lunch.

Benny and all my other friends on the football team got in trouble for some stupid prank. Therefore detention in Metadouche's classroom during lunch.

I didn't wanna sit alone so I scanned the garden for somewhere to sit.

That's when I first saw him.

There was this guy from my Science class sitting under the loner tree.

He had dark hair, light skin, and was wearing a beanie, glasses, a trench coat and backwards tie over a dress shirt, black jeans, and combat boots. He was scribbling furiously on a notebook.

I think his name is Castiol?

I walked over to him and stood over him, casting a shadow.

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me.

His eyes. The shock of how freaking blue they are hit me like a punch in the gut. Like looking at the sun underwater.

"H - hey," I stuttered.

He continued to stare at me.

"Mind if I sit?"

He just blinked so I took that as an okay.

I plopped down next to him.

"Hey I'm Dean."

"I know who you are."

"Okay then. What's your name?"

"Castiel," he muttered, not looking up from his notebook.

I peeked over his shoulder and saw what he was writing.

It looked like a story, the page before was completely covered and the one he was working on was almost full.

Next to each paragraph there was a little doodle accompanying it. They were pretty nice for doodles.

"Whatchya writing?"

"A book."

"What kind of book?"

"It's like an adventure book. I'm living vicariously through my own writing."

He turned to the front of the notebook and started flipping through the pages, each covered in writing, front and back.