i know its not what you asked for but i wish you'd write a fic about destiel. a fuffy one, even if its just 5sentences cos im sad. i just broke up with my boyfriend and he made me feel like shit. i just cried my eyes out and i dont know what to do :(
I hope this lifts your spirits, anon. You don’t deserve to be treated so poorly and he doesn’t deserve you if he fails to see how wonderful you are. Please always remember to love yourself no matter what. ♥
“… and honeybee, there were all these sparks. Like stars raining down from the sky. And your dad, he just… walked right toward me like it was nothing.” Dean smiles when Chevy widens her eyes, then lowers his voice till it’s just above a whisper. “And between you and me, sweetheart? I was really scared. I even stabbed him.”
“You stabbed him?” Chevy gasps. She clutches her teddy bear as she stares up at Dean. “But… it didn’t hurt Papa, right?” Her voice is quiet and serious.
Dean shakes his head before brushing back her soft, dark bangs. “Nope, he didn’t even flinch,” he laughs. “I’d never met anyone like him.”
Chevy hums thoughtfully, furrowing her brows; the action makes the freckles dance across her nose. “It’s a good thing that Papa’s an angel,” she says, sounding so philosophical that it pulls another laugh out of Dean.
“Yes, it is,” he agrees, leaning in closer to tweak Chevy’s nose. She giggles and squirms further back into her pillows, and Dean is so overwhelmed by love that he just wants to hold her forever, protect her from the world. “Do you know what you call stories like mine and your Papa’s?” he asks.
Chevy tilts her head, eyeing him curiously with her deep green eyes. “A fairy tale?” she guesses shyly. Dean smiles and reaches for her hand.
“Close,” he tells her gently, relishing the way her small hand rests curled inside his own. Above, they hold each other’s matching, adoring gaze, as Dean goes on to answer, “You call it a love story, sweetheart. Love at first stab.” He stifles a laugh as she crinkles her nose.
“I think it’s love at first sight, Daddy,” she corrects him with a sigh. Only seven yet she’s mastered exasperation thanks to her Papa.
“I think you’re right,” Dean nods indulgently, and when he looks up, he sees Cas smiling from the doorway. “Look who’s here to help me tuck you in.”
Chevy unwraps her arm around the bear so Cas can take her hand and press a kiss to her palm. “What were you and Daddy talking about?” he asks, to which Chevy replies, “How there were sparks when you two met.”
Cas peers at him over their daughter, his eyes so fond that Dean feels warm all over. He responds by mouthing ‘I love you,’ only to duck his head when Cas mouths it back. They take turns kissing Chevy’s cheeks, though Cas speaks for them both with his usual, “Sweet dreams, Princess. We love you very much.” Dean waits till they’re back in the hallway to tug Cas closer so they stand chest-to-chest.
“So,” Cas begins softly. “Sparks, huh?” His eyes are so bright.
Dean huffs, kissing along the curve of Cas’ jaw. “It’s true,” he replies, before kissing his husband square on the mouth. “Still feel ‘em. Every single day.”
“Marriage has made you quite the romantic,” Cas smiles, but Dean just says “No, baby, you did that” and steals another kiss.
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