#bethwritesfanfic

meeting and getting corrupted byfalling in love with this guy?

Dean Winchester is the best damn rodeo cowboy in all of Texas. Ain't no one can handle a lasso better'n he can.

He's a touch outta his element, though, when he gets roped into helpin' the Galveston PD capture a mysterious, evasive ocean critter that's chosen the city's most popular family beach as its new home.

But the critter ain’t actually a critter at all. Turns out he’s a merman, with big perdy blue eyes, a broad hairy chest, and just the right amount of silver in his hair to make Dean weak in the knees. He’s smart as a whip and fine as cream gravy, too, and it ain't long before he talks Dean into peelin' off his chaps for a moonlight skinny dip.

(Cowboy Dean/Merman Cas for POLLSPN and day 3 of Restraintstiel Week: Rope.)

(If you don't want to read Part 1 or it's been a while, that's really all you need to know <3)

For day two of Restraintstiel (handcuffs), a Tough Nut to Crack coda: Hot Fuzz.

Preview:

Dean must be dreaming. Cas Novak is standing in his doorway, blushing prettily like he hasn’t been personally responsible for every orgasm Dean’s had for the past four months. He’s just as striking as the day they met, dark hair messy and blue eyes bright. He’s dressed down since they had a long drive, in blue jeans and an untucked, long-sleeved polo shirt. (Dean knows he's dressed down because they’ve gotten in the habit of sending daily full body pics to each other too—Cas likes to gawk at the grease-stained clothes Dean wears to the shop, and Dean adores how Cas, only 21, already dresses like a stuffy old accountant.) 

“C’mere,” Dean says softly. He meant it in a 'come hither' kind of way, but it came out sounding significantly more sentimental and affectionate than that.

Cas slides his pristine sneakers off to reveal crisp white socks underneath. Dork. He takes a few cautious steps up to the side of Dean’s bed. Dean’s propped up on an elbow now, admiring him. He’s still not quite sure this isn’t some hyperrealistic dream that’s gonna devastate him when he wakes up...

Big thank you to my mutuals who encouraged me to post it: @em-bitterred, @borrowedlifeonearth, @2fear2gach, @beatsheetromanroy, and @scifiromance7. <3 Y'all are seriously the best!

“Castiel?” she whispers. They’re close, sitting side by side on the bed and leaning into one another. “Yes, Kelly?” is his response. His voice is dark and low, surprising even himself. “I—I want you to be the last person I sleep with,” she breathes out nervously, round eyes glinting in the low lamplight. “Not… him.” It takes Castiel just a split second too long to respond to what she’s saying. He’s distracted by her green eyes. He hadn’t noticed the color until now—it’s familiar and unnerving. By the time he realizes that she’s waiting for a response, she’s moving to stand up. “I’m so sorry,” she stammers, with her hands covering her face. “That is such a weird thing to say, I know. Please forget I said anything.”

“Benny’s right,” is Dean’s answer. They didn’t often agree when it came to Cas, but whatever this is, Dean knows it’s too fragile. If they stop, it will shatter, and he’s not ready for that yet. He’s desperate for release and boiling over with pent-up tension and lust that has had no outlet since they made it to Purgatory months ago. “You’re not going anywhere, Cas.”

Act I of Heaven Came Down is almost over. Dean and Cas have found a way to get Dean back home to HunterCorp, and he has to go—even though he doesn't want to. But with Michael and Lucifer after him, staying in the Endverse means that everyone he cares about at Camp Chitaqua will always be in danger. This is the only way.

(Sneak peek of chapter 12 below!)

Dean nods. He can tell the conversation is wrapping up, which means… it’s time. Already. He’s sick with nerves and grief. Worried about Cas getting away if they somehow manage to pull this off. Petrified about what might happen to Cas once the angels realize he was involved. He’ll never know the answer to that question, and it’s a unique type of devastation to realize that. He presses into Cas and wraps his arms around his waist. One more hug. Cas’s arms settle around Dean too. He takes a few deep breaths, tries to will the smell of Cas into his long-term memory—sweat and pot and whatever grace smells like. Cold and blue. The smell of cold and blue. He turns his head to kiss Cas’s cheek, and tries to memorize the way Cas’s stubble feels against his lips, too. Dean doesn’t tell Cas about the Castiel from his world. He’s not going to. He doesn’t want to mar Cas’s memory of him, and maybe that’s selfish. It’s a burden that Dean can carry alone. He doesn’t want to pile anymore anguish on Cas than he already has. Cas gives Dean his angel blade and tells him to use it if anything goes wrong, if any angels try to attack him or keep him away from the portal. Dean slides it up his shirt sleeve. “This is all going to happen very quickly, Dean,” Cas says, one hand squeezing Dean’s shoulder hard, “Promise me that you'll run for that rift the moment the stone powers it up.” Dean nods, his face buried in Cas’s neck to hide the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. “Bye, Cas,” he says, and he places one final kiss to the juncture where Cas’s jaw and ear meet. “I’ll miss you.”

It's 2020. Croatoan has taken almost everyone. Lucifer killed Dean way back in 2014, and the only thing keeping Castiel going is his obligation to the other people in his camp. The pills ran out a long time ago, so he smokes a shit-ton of weed and tries not to think too hard about his life.

Then this guy wanders into Camp Chitaqua and fucks everything up.

Location: bakery

Body part: forehead

Situation: Dean or Cash over prepare for something

Domestic engaged post-canon Destiel x wedding cake x Cas being a very earnest weirdo

Cas doesn't think a cake tasting is necessary. "We both know what cake tastes like," he says, completely flat, even as he dutifully follows Dean through the parking lot and up to the front door of a bakery the next town over. Lebanon didn't have one, which Dean considered a personal affront. "This seems a little excessive," Cas adds, as he steps through the door Dean holds open for him.

Cas just doesn't get it. What's the point of planning a wedding if you don't get to taste the damn cake first?

A tiny wisp of a woman with gray-blue hair and knobbly knuckles, who has probably been baking wedding cakes since The Beatles were touring, ushers them to a table where their cakes are already waiting.

And you know what? More power to her for single-handedly carrying the wedding cake market for whole county, because this shit is fire. It was an assortment of her most popular flavor combos: almond cake with raspberry filling, red velvet and cream cheese, strawberry cake with lemon curd, and of course the classic chocolate and vanilla. The cakes are all soft and fluffy, and the flavors are saturated. Intense without being too sweet. As soon as she disappears into the back, Dean elbows Cas in the ribs and whispers, "Still seem excessive?"

Cas just smiles peacefully and scoops up a forkful of strawberry and lemon curd.

"Which one's your favorite?" Dean asks. Fork in hand, he swipes at a stray lock of hair that had fallen down on his forehead.

Cas doesn't answer the question. He gestures at Dean's face. "You have frosting there," he says.

Dean tries to swipe it up with his thumb, twice, unsuccessfully. Cas takes two surreptitious glances around the front of the bakery.

Then he yanks Dean towards him by the collar of his flannel, and licks the frosting off of Dean's forehead, flattening his tongue fully against the slope of it and dragging a thick, wet stripe from his brow bone to his hairline. Dean is stunned... and immediately, harrowingly aroused.

Cas returns to his plate as though nothing abnormal just happened. "Whatever flavor that was," he says blandly, "that's my favorite."

Cream cheese.

Dean has to take a moment to compose himself.