#fluffy destiel

[melle-otterwise]

Self indulgent post hunt kiss for the boys's wedding anniversary 💚

TW Bloody version under the cut 👇

[fandom-addict404]

does anyone have any destiel fanfics with fluffy dean and cas?

[sasanka-27]

Yes he does!!!

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

I accept

Vacation.

I haven't forgotten Dean and Cas yet, please accept this doodle as a token of my love. ;w;

[gaytedlasso]

there’s never enough time.

~

3rd anniversary of canon destiel

Nov 5, 2020

[casdeans-pie]

"Uh? Cas? You're kinda glowing."

"Thank you, Dean. I think you look beautiful after sex too."

Dean choked. "No, I mean- you're actually glowing."

"Hm? Oh. I am." Cas gently removed his hand from its place against Dean's chest and examined his glowing palm, twisting it back and forth.

Dean lifted his own hand up and entwined their fingers together. Cas's skin gave off a soft blue light against his, that pulsed even brighter when Dean kissed the back of his hand. It felt warm. Fluttery almost.

"As soon as my blood goes back to my brain I'll think of something funny to say about afterglow," Dean mumbled sleepily, bringing their joined hands back to his chest and relaxing back into Cas's chest. "Heh. Afterglow."

[l-loserlover]

receita para dois

fanart: @fluffsnake aqui

futura doação?

caso se inspire, dê os devidos créditos

09/12/24

fiquei doida quando vi essa fanart.

[wigglebox]

Suptober - Day 7 || Black Cat [x]

[the-fluffstiel-bang]

Fluffstiel Bang Sign-Ups are Open!

The Fluffstiel Bang is a Destiel mini-bang challenge that is FLUFFY! Give us all the fluff! The minimum word count for authors is 5,000. Artists will create one piece of original artwork and one banner inspired by the fic they get paired with.

Please read the rules, guidelines, and schedule here!

AND... Sign-Ups are Officially OPEN!

[jenanigans1207]

1/6/25: Recover

“Dean, sit down.” Cas orders from where he’s standing at the kitchen stove, spatula in hand. He wields in the same way Dean does when he’s lecturing someone and cooking at the same time and Dean thinks both ruefully and in amusement about all the habits he unintentionally passed along to Cas. “I am perfectly capable—”

“Just let me check.” Dean insists, going to stand from the barstool he is perched on at the counter. “You’ve never made soup before.”

“Dean,” Cas says and this time there’s a clear warning in his voice. It’s deep and rumbly and probably the voice that Cas used to guide armies when he was an angel and instill fear into those who dared stand against him. To Dean, it’s completely harmless, and he stands up anyways and crosses to stand right behind Cas, peering over his shoulder.

Cas huffs a dramatic sigh to match his dramatic eye roll as Dean nestles his chin onto Cas’s shoulder and stares down into the pot. It’s quiet for a long moment before Dean nods a little, pressing a kiss to the side of Cas’s neck. “Looks good.”

“I have been alive for millennia,” Cas insists with frustration. “I think I can make some chicken noodle soup.”

“First,” Dean says, raising a finger to tick off his point. “When you were an angel for those millennia,” He drops his voice with a grin to mimic Cas’s and earns a half-hearted elbow to the ribs. “You didn’t eat. So none of those years count. Second,” he ticks off another finger, “Even if they did count, you’re not an angel anymore, so none of your angel experience counts. And you don’t have mojo to fix burned soup.”

“I would hardly have wasted my grace on burned soup.” Cas argues as he places the spatula back into the soup and begins stirring.

Dean allows himself to be dislodged, but he doesn’t return to his seat at the counter. “You consider feeding me unburned soup a waste?”

Cas doesn’t even bother to give him a verbal response, instead sending a withering glare over his shoulder to make his point. Dean grins at him, wide and full of genuine joy. It lasts all of about two seconds before he’s suddenly sneezing, reaching for the box of tissues that Cas had kept within a foot radius of him at all times for the last two days. He wipes at his nose miserably, reminded how raw it is from how much he’s been blowing it, and then he sulks back to his seat.

Once he’s seated comfortably at the counter again, Dean crosses his arms and pillows his head on top of them, making sure he can still keep Cas in his line of sight. Cas glances over his shoulder occasionally, watching as Dean settles in.

After a minute of silence, Cas asks quietly, “Are you feeling any better at all?”

“A little,” Dean answers, but now he sounds stuffy and the dubious look Cas sends him indicates that he hears it as well. “I’m just fucking sick of this.”

Cas takes one last glance into the pot before carefully stowing the spatula on the spoon rest that Dean had insisted they get for the kitchen as soon as they had made the bunker their permanent home. Once he’s set the spatula down, he crosses the room easily, one hand coming to rest between Dean’s shoulder blades and moving in small, soothing circles. Cas has always been warm and it feels good to Dean’s aching back and sore muscles. Cas’s other hand threads gently into Dean’s hair, brushing it away from his face and scratching gently at his scalp. It’s all Dean can do not to groan aloud and melt into a complete puddle underneath the stool.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well,” Cas says for what has to be the millionth time, though it has never lost even an ounce of its sincerity. “Just give yourself a couple more days to recover and then you’ll be back to normal.”

“You said a few days a few days ago.” Dean mumbles, but his eyes have slipped closed and there’s not any actual bite to his words.

Ever since he’d gotten sick, everything had been stupidly difficult. But in this moment, feeling Cas so close to him, smelling the soup that Cas was making just for him— well this is the best Dean has felt in a few days. He had fought it at first, insistent that he knew how to make chicken noodle soup and was perfectly capable of making it for himself. Cas had sat him down and told him with absolutely no room for argument that Dean took care of everyone else and now it was his turn to be taken care of. Any rebuttal Dean wanted to make to that died on his tongue somewhere between the stormy warning that was in Cas’s eyes and the coughing fit that had taken the words right out of his mouth.

And so he had relented, although it had taken a few days to get around to the soup because Dean hadn’t felt up to eating much at first. He’d spent most of his time curled up in bed, head pillowed on Cas’s lap, warning him repeatedly that he was going to get sick, too, if he stayed around Dean. Reminding him that he was human now, and human ailments were something he had to worry about. But Cas had insisted on staying and Dean really hadn’t tried that hard to push him away because he liked the comfort and the company.

And if he ended up making soup for Cas next week because Cas inevitably got sick— if he ended up rubbing circles into Cas’s back while gently brushing his messy hair off his fevered forehead, well, that was a trade Dean was willing to make. He could be taken care of if he needed to be, but only if it was by Cas.

[sirlancenotalot]

[pollsnatural]

Warning! This poll contains destiel!

[youchangedmedestiel]

If some of you want to read a ficlet about Destiel finishing their salt and burn in time before midnight on New Year's Eve and engaged in that famous tradition that Cas just discovered, then let me tell you that I have something for you. And it's called Kissing you is like fireworks.

[kryptid-of-the-krows]

new WIP?

I have begun a new fic idea surrounding the adopted daughter of the Winchesters when they retire (Winchesters includes the entire main core people in a post canon fix-it fic because I want Bobby and Crowley to be alive and others too. Winchesters does not mean wincest, fuck off degenerates)

This fic was inspired by the headcanon that Jack would be a great big brother to a little sister, and that they would also be like Dean as a big brother because that is his main example of one.

On a case, the group ends up adopting a baby girl. Sam and Eileen have a daughter a year later. They retire and the group raises their daughters without any involvement of the Supernatural, telling the girls nothing about their past life. The story follows the two daughters as they are high schoolers trying to figure out why certain aspects of their childhood were so...weird. At first, they think it's something to do with a secret government agency, like X-files or S.H.E.I.L.D., but they discover the truth is way more bizarre, terrifying, and supernatural than they ever could have guessed.

[targaryendestiel]

Guys I just scrolled through umpteen years of my blog and I’m feeling nostalgic now. Supernatural having a gif for absolutely everything and hijacking every post ever posted by anybody. SuperWhoLock. The godforsaken Mishapocalypse. That one girl getting her fluffy chicken. That godawful do you like the color of the sky post.

And still here the fuck we are. Cheers y’all.

[lab-of-trash-prompts]

The boy who all the girls pay for: A Prompt

There's a regular at this restaurant who only pays for his meal about 50% of the time. Girls usually saw him and asked to pay for his meal. He always leaves a more sizable tip when that happens, presumably because he can afford to do so. Worker can see that he's attractive, but doesn't quite understand how or why it happens. And moreover, why he only ever comes in alone, not with one of the girls who's hit on him.

Eventually Worker finds out that he's like... a notoriously good person. Volunteers to walk dogs and mow lawns, volunteers, often scales the town if a pet has gone missing, offers kids stickers especially if they seem down, and all of that on top of him being a total smoke show.

Well, why hasn't he gone out with a girl yet? Brought her here? Well, he pretty much only comes here for one reason. The cute boy behind the counter (or bar?) who he doesn't want to bother while he's working.