domestic fluff, college AU !! gay professor Cas / barista Dean + his cute lil bunny!! the softest misunderstandings & helping each other get their shit together (19k)
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The first time Dean met Castiel, it was like something out of a movie. Specifically, the sweet, sappy movies that Dean liked best but would never watch if anyone else was around.
He’d never smelled juniper in his life. He didn’t know what juniper was, or what it was meant to smell like. But one minute he was sitting comfortably in the dappled shade of the campus’ least-popular sycamore trees, one hand petting Zeppelin (Holland Lop-Eared rabbit, black), the other holding a textbook (Radioactive Isotopes and Their Common Applications, $456, banana yellow), when all of a sudden, he smelled juniper, and was able to identify it as juniper.
He looked up.
There was a path through the lawn about thirty feet from the soles of Dean’s boots, cutting right to left, with a backdrop of green-leafed trees gushing in the wind, snug against the campus church and its white steeple, which was directly between the humanities block and the mathematics tower. Usually people hurried along, right to left, left to right, or lounged on the grass surrounded by books, basking in the sun like studious cats.
But one dude in a trenchcoat paused on the path.
Sunlight blazed around him, illuminating dark hair with a golden halo as he turned his head, looking back the way he’d come. Soft springtime wind caressed his trenchcoat and lifted its hem, as if wanting to take a peek underneath. He squinted against the light, or in confusion, one tanned hand curling around his other bare wrist. His navy-blue necktie floated out in front of him, twisting, dancing in sync with his mussed hair.
He was beautiful.
Beautiful, not only in the way underwear models were beautiful, or movie actors were beautiful. Beautiful, the way books were beautiful when they had gilded artwork hot-stamped on their covers. Beautiful, the way sunlight caught the scales on a koi fish as it slowly curved under a lilypad. Beautiful, like a low, dulcet crack of thunder at dusk, followed by a rainshower that drenched the land just the right amount after a month-long heatwave.
Dean watched this man move in slow-motion as the rest of the world went hurrying.
He smelled of juniper.
Any other moment in time, Dean would never have looked up. Yet the breeze had brought him a reason to look up. Being in the right place, at the right time, to smell that scent and see this image was as incredible as looking up just in time to see a shooting star.
Dean smiled, and lowered his head to get back to studying. But his eyes were imprinted with what he’d seen; the diagram of a split atom looked like a camel-coloured trenchcoat. The text in the caption looked like the path, left to right, right to left.
Dean looked up again – and shock zapped down his spine: the man approached him. He walked with purpose, hands swung at his sides, marching in long strides.
Dean wondered if he should run. Nobody approached like that unless they wanted a fight.
“Pardon me,” the man said—
And, okay, nobody said ‘pardon me’ any more. Like, ever. They just didn’t. They said ‘hi’ or ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’, or all three. This guy was from another time, a suspicion further confirmed by the button-up waistcoat he wore. It was ninety-five degrees out here, Dean could only imagine there was sweat running down this man’s lower back.
“So sorry to disturb you,” the man went on, deep-voiced and rumbly. “But could you tell me the time?” He rubbed his right hand around his left wrist, as he’d done before. “I seem to have misplaced my wristwatch.”
Dean scrunched his hand in Zeppelin’s fur, feeling his own palm sweat clinging to her fluff. “Uhhhh.”
Cas is stealing Dean’s clothes to make a nest! (5.3k, G)
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“And, once the birds have chosen their mate, the nesting begins.”
Deep in the blue cavern of the Dean Cave (also known as The Fortress of Dean-a-tude) the TV mumbled calmly, while birds on screen hopped around their mates, snuggled up on branches, and brought each other feathers and fluff to add to their nest.
Dean snoozed on his plaid-backed recliner, beer in hand, other hand limp in the popcorn bowl he shared with Cas, busy trying to keep his eyes open. The room was kept permanently dim, and the metal kegs hanging from the ceiling poured coloured light onto the concrete, reflected, giving Dean and Castiel’s chins a faint pink-and-blue glow. Dean felt warm and quiet inside, and although it was past his bedtime, he didn’t wanna go yet.
“The pair works together to create a suitable shelter for the coming months, a home where they will lay their eggs and raise their young.”
Dean’s eyelids drooped. He blinked hard, sitting up a bit, working his shoulders back to take off his plaid shirt. He balled it up like a pillow and stuffed it on the right wooden arm of his chair, then rotated himself to lie down. The wooden arm hit at his shoulders, but the makeshift pillow softened the blow.
The chair was only a one-seater, so his legs hooked over the other armrest. Castiel moved the popcorn bowl out of the way so Dean’s socked feet could slide onto his lap.
“Shouldn’t you go to bed?” Castiel asked, still holding the popcorn. “And doesn’t your chair tip back, anyway?”
“Mmh.” Dean kept his eyes on the birds.
“Both mates share in the responsibility of finding materials for the nest, seeking loose feathers, bits of dry grass, even stealing insulation from inside the walls of a house.”
Dean smiled, watching the little sparrow pop its head out from between the bricks, pink fluff in its beak. It fluttered out into the blue, hopping to join its mate in the nest.
Dean shut his eyes, just for a minute. He let the cozy warmth overtake him…
~
“Dean.” Castiel watched Dean slipping from consciousness, lips parting. More quietly, Castiel urged, “Dean, go to bed.”
But Dean was already asleep.
Castiel watched for a while, with a happy tingle in his heart. Dean looked so soft, and so… adorable. The love Castiel had for him seemed to double every time he caught a glimpse of him like this, guard down, at peace, safe under Castiel’s watch.
AU where Dean accidentally moves in with his neighbour, Cas, who is surprisingly okay with it.
Or:
Every time Dean fixes anything in this cursed house, a random plant pops up and breaks it again. The woo-woo weirdo named Cas on the other side of the river keeps insisting that Dean must’ve offended the forest fairies. He offers his own home’s amenities for as long as Dean needs them. But with each passing night, and every bent pipe, fritzing electrical system, or shattered window, Dean finds himself returning to his own place only to sleep. And then… one night… he doesn’t even do that.
Cas is thoroughly examining all the lines on Dean’s left hand, his head comfortably resting on Dean’s chest when the words reach his ears.
“I love you”
It’s not more than a whisper, wonder laced through each word as though Dean himself is amazed at the reality of it.
Cas sits up, looks at Dean with just as much wonder. He’s known, of course, or at least suspected. But this is the first time Dean said it out loud, felt comfortable enough to, with him.
With as much reverence as this situation deserves, Cas cradles Dean’s head between his hands, regarding Dean intently because he needs to memorize every detail, from the faint shine of vulnerability in Dean’s eyes to the warm flush that rises to Dean’s cheeks. “You love me,” Cas marvels.
Dean tries to squirm away from Cas’ gaze, but it’s half-hearted. “C’mon man, don’t make a big deal out of it.”
But Cas repeats, “You love me,” like those three words hold the answer to all the questions of the universe. To Cas, at least, they do.
“Yeah,” Dean rolls his eyes, a well-practiced tactic in continuation of the custom of ‘not making a big deal out of it’. “Yeah, fuck. I do. Now get down here.” And Dean pulls Cas’ head down to meet his lips in a hard kiss.
It’s a trick to evade the adoration that must be showing in Cas’ eyes. But it’s a clever strategy, Cas must concede, when a pleased sigh slips past his lips in response to all the little I-love-yous Dean presses against his mouth, against his skin. They’re spoken in a different language yet, but Cas understands it all the same.
this one’s entitled Night Exhibition, it’s 28k, explicit as hell - and frankly i’m just gonna let the tags speak for this one
characters in order of how much of a role they play in this: Dean/Cas, Donna Hanscum, Sam Winchester & Eileen Leahy, Max & Alicia Banes, Benny
ao3 tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Romance, Fluff, No Angst, Porn With Plot, Porn With Feelings, Romantic Friendship, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Time, Museums, Security Guard Castiel, Snarky Castiel, Nonbinary Castiel, Grey-Asexual Castiel, Demisexual Castiel, Baker Dean Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Horny Dean, Secret Crush, Sexual Tension, Uniform Kink/Fetish, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Standing Up, Oral Sex, Rimming, Intercrural Sex, Public Nudity, Come Swallowing, Switch Castiel, Switch Dean, Everyone Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester
(yes i plan the order of the tags beforehand stop looking at me weird)
ONE AND A BIT DAYS TO WAIT
you can subscribe here if you’re into that and don’t wanna miss when i post!!!
(also it just occurred to me that someone out there might be worried - no i don’t see your username if you subscribe. only if you leave kudos while logged in. and i’m not gonna freakin kinkshame you if i was the one who wrote the thing am i lhdkzsfs)
all the illustrations for my 5.7k fic Tickle Fight Wasteland, in which Dean and Cas meditate, have a tickle fight, and make coffee… in a post-apocalyptic desert wasteland. domesticity and desertpunk! exactly what you never expected but always wanted anyway.
(the last two pictures are posted separately here and here.)
“This better not be one of your ‘special surprises’, Cas.”
“Please. You love my surprises.”
“Yeah? And how do you like mine?”
“Dean! You got me something!”
“’Course I did, buddy. It’s Christmas. I got something for everyone. But, uh… I dunno. I got somethin’ a little different for you. Since you’re my best pal and all.”
“Dean… I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Ugh, you haven’t even seen what I got you yet. Come on. On three. Let’s open them together.”
my DCBB fic Held in Your Hands is finally up!! it still needs to be approved by the mods before it shows up on the DCBB community page, but IT EXISTS PROPERLY NOW. such a relief ♥
want to read 60k about Destiel, massage, somnophilia, cuddles, tattooed genderfluid!Cas and his pet cat, anyone??? doooo ittttt, you know you want to~
I wrote a 20k Destiel AU! FBI agent!Cas and musician!Dean help save a dog from a car accident. They then take turns to look after the little pitbull, until they realise she really ought to live in one place, not two. (And we all know what that means.) It’s fluffy and happiness-inducing, with some bonus roleplay smut, because I couldn’t resist. ♥
If you’re the kind of person who would enjoy reading a 48k Dean/Cas fic with mountains of fluff, Team Free Will enjoying Christmas in a B&B, and bottom!Dean in lingerie, then I give to you: Snow Place Like Home (But My Home Is With You). Plus, there’s header art by rhapsodean, and it’s gorgeous.
I would read more of your stuff (cause it's frickin amazing) but I'm scared you'll break my heart. I don't do pain well. :/
Thank you so much, anon!! I don’t know what you’ve read already, but here is a list of all my completely pain-free, angst-free fluff fics, which all require no worrying whatsoever, because nothing bad happens at all. (going in order of length, shortest first. if it has a # it contains porn):
