three echoes [meg/dean/castiel][s/a]
Title: Three Echoes
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Meg/Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: 7.17 stills, concept
Warnings: Threesome, some rough!sex, car!sex?
Word Count: ~1,200
A/N: OT3 MAN. O. T. 3. And it will shine on and etc.
Summary: This is the first time Meg's seen them like this - intimate.
It’s crowded but Meg is small, and she’s sure they can accommodate.
They do.
Mostly it’s just the sound of Dean breathing - she watches his eyes flutter shut then open. Watches the way Castiel leans over his shoulder and breathes on his neck before returning to tug at the lobe of his ear. They can’t kill her, and she knows they wouldn’t anyway. Dean tracked her down. He needed her help, and now he’s getting what she wants. Killing her would be in bad taste.
Oddly enough - or maybe not so much - she’s never seen the two of them like this. Has barely seen them together. The last time there had been tension, something unresolvable and impossible to ignore. It had been annoying then, seeing the way Castiel stared at the back of Dean’s neck and pushed her against the wall with nothing on his mind but to be strong. It had been frustrating to watch them and recognize the anger between them. Now it’s dissolved and been replaced with something infinitely harder to explain.
So Meg lets it go.
She shuffles between Dean’s legs, spread messily over the backseat. She rests a hand on the crotch and rubs him slowly, watches as he lifts his hips and leans his head back. She catches Castiel’s eyes and grins as he stares coldly back. It isn’t hatred, it isn’t even irritation - rather a warning. Maybe not even that. He looks and feels different now, doesn’t give off a vibe. He probably sees her face in the same way Dean does; she’s human to him now, because everything in Castiel is nearly broken. Still, he’s a soldier, and it shows in the way he trails kisses down Dean’s neck, runs a hand over his chest. Something powerful hides behind the now quiet and less commanding voice. Certainly his eyes haven’t changed.
It’s easy enough. Dean doesn’t resist as she picks up his thighs and hooks her fingers in the waistband of his jeans. He reacts mildly enough, a hand resting on her shoulder and the other reaching behind, maybe to find some leverage against Castiel. A part of Meg wonders when the last time they were close was. Possibly a very, very long time.
At one point Castiel pulls Dean further onto his lap and Meg has to shuffle in closer, tug at his jeans while Castiel watches from Dean’s shoulder. She takes her time and works his jeans down slowly until Dean is arching his back and pulling gently at her jacket. It’s a sort of desperation she’s never seen on him, and she’s known Dean for years. Like he needs to be shoved into place.
She looks back at Castiel and there’s a silent agreement - she can feel it in the way he looks away only when she finally does, pulling back from Dean and putting his hands on Dean’s lower back. Dean seems uncertain at first as Cas’ hand slides into the waistband of his boxers but he lets out a quiet little sigh before the pace of his breath quickens up.
Meg grins and shifts onto Dean’s lap, rocking down against his hips. He looks at her with clouded eyes that attempt to be sharp and opens his mouth, but she stops him with the press of a finger and a smile. He doesn’t resist her hands traveling down his chest and finding his cock again. She squeezes him through his underwear and watches the way his face twitches and his breath catches before he bites his lip, hand gripping her shoulder. She ignores it in favor of pushing her hand into his boxers and wrapping her fingers around Dean’s dick. One, two, three - quick, long strokes. Castiel is fucking him with two fingers now, at least, and Dean is trembling with anticipation, something building and reaching.
“Fuck him.” She half-spits the words, leaning down to mouth at Dean’s neck before biting down. He grunts and grits his teeth, cursing, rolling his hips up into her loose hand. Meg gives a small squeeze and returns to slowly stroking, almost teasing - she lets her thumb graze over the head of Dean’s cock as she drags her teeth over his collar.
She doesn’t see it, but she hears Castiel unbutton and unzip his jeans. A moment later Dean’s fingers are digging harder into her arm but she doesn’t complain - the pain is minimal compared to what else she’s experienced. She settles on continuing to jack him off slowly as Castiel holds Dean by the hips, starting to fuck into him.
It must have been a while.
She wonders if Castiel remembers the scar he gave her from shoving her into the holy fire. She wonders if he remembers the way she does picking her up and kissing her. That had burned almost as much as the fire. She wonders what he thinks when he sees her, or if perhaps she’s just a piece in this puzzle that leads to Dean.
She wouldn’t mind if she was. She focuses in on Dean, on the slight quivering of his body, how he arches and gasps and breathes heavier than either of them. Castiel is fucking him roughly, uneven thrusts that make Dean jolt slightly forward. Meg adjusts and thinks about getting off herself (her jeans feel tight, her body just slightly sweaty but she can still feel the pulses between her legs when Dean’s mouth falls open or Castiel bites into his shoulder), but then it seems ridiculous because she’ll just settle for the taste of the memories when the time comes.
His hips quiver and twitch, fingers straying and roughly finding her hip but giving nothing but his own leverage. Meg watches Dean and speeds up the pumps of her fist. She wants to see his face when he comes; when he falls apart with Castiel inside of him and something so unfair in front of him. She wants to be the reason, wants him to come shaking into her palm without hesitation, see him try to keep his breathing even.
It’s satisfying, until Castiel kisses his jaw and Dean scrambles, the hand on her arm finding Cas’ hair and holding on there instead. He comes hard and sudden, kissing Castiel and making small and indistinguishable noises in the back of his throat. Meg pushes him through it and Dean’s hips jerk against her hand but nothing else.
She pulls back and settles on her knees, watching with mostly curiosity as Castiel pulls Dean to his chest, fucks him until he comes too. It’s a strange sight and Meg tilts her head back in time with Dean, though less so than him, and watches the kissing continue.
Meg has done her job. She’s safe now and she has no reason to stay. Dean won’t hunt her down and won’t kill her because he’s found what he was looking for.
She slips out of the vehicle and is almost positive they don’t notice.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Meg/Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: 7.17 stills, concept
Warnings: Threesome, some rough!sex, car!sex?
Word Count: ~1,200
A/N: OT3 MAN. O. T. 3. And it will shine on and etc.
Summary: This is the first time Meg's seen them like this - intimate.
It’s crowded but Meg is small, and she’s sure they can accommodate.
They do.
Mostly it’s just the sound of Dean breathing - she watches his eyes flutter shut then open. Watches the way Castiel leans over his shoulder and breathes on his neck before returning to tug at the lobe of his ear. They can’t kill her, and she knows they wouldn’t anyway. Dean tracked her down. He needed her help, and now he’s getting what she wants. Killing her would be in bad taste.
Oddly enough - or maybe not so much - she’s never seen the two of them like this. Has barely seen them together. The last time there had been tension, something unresolvable and impossible to ignore. It had been annoying then, seeing the way Castiel stared at the back of Dean’s neck and pushed her against the wall with nothing on his mind but to be strong. It had been frustrating to watch them and recognize the anger between them. Now it’s dissolved and been replaced with something infinitely harder to explain.
So Meg lets it go.
She shuffles between Dean’s legs, spread messily over the backseat. She rests a hand on the crotch and rubs him slowly, watches as he lifts his hips and leans his head back. She catches Castiel’s eyes and grins as he stares coldly back. It isn’t hatred, it isn’t even irritation - rather a warning. Maybe not even that. He looks and feels different now, doesn’t give off a vibe. He probably sees her face in the same way Dean does; she’s human to him now, because everything in Castiel is nearly broken. Still, he’s a soldier, and it shows in the way he trails kisses down Dean’s neck, runs a hand over his chest. Something powerful hides behind the now quiet and less commanding voice. Certainly his eyes haven’t changed.
It’s easy enough. Dean doesn’t resist as she picks up his thighs and hooks her fingers in the waistband of his jeans. He reacts mildly enough, a hand resting on her shoulder and the other reaching behind, maybe to find some leverage against Castiel. A part of Meg wonders when the last time they were close was. Possibly a very, very long time.
At one point Castiel pulls Dean further onto his lap and Meg has to shuffle in closer, tug at his jeans while Castiel watches from Dean’s shoulder. She takes her time and works his jeans down slowly until Dean is arching his back and pulling gently at her jacket. It’s a sort of desperation she’s never seen on him, and she’s known Dean for years. Like he needs to be shoved into place.
She looks back at Castiel and there’s a silent agreement - she can feel it in the way he looks away only when she finally does, pulling back from Dean and putting his hands on Dean’s lower back. Dean seems uncertain at first as Cas’ hand slides into the waistband of his boxers but he lets out a quiet little sigh before the pace of his breath quickens up.
Meg grins and shifts onto Dean’s lap, rocking down against his hips. He looks at her with clouded eyes that attempt to be sharp and opens his mouth, but she stops him with the press of a finger and a smile. He doesn’t resist her hands traveling down his chest and finding his cock again. She squeezes him through his underwear and watches the way his face twitches and his breath catches before he bites his lip, hand gripping her shoulder. She ignores it in favor of pushing her hand into his boxers and wrapping her fingers around Dean’s dick. One, two, three - quick, long strokes. Castiel is fucking him with two fingers now, at least, and Dean is trembling with anticipation, something building and reaching.
“Fuck him.” She half-spits the words, leaning down to mouth at Dean’s neck before biting down. He grunts and grits his teeth, cursing, rolling his hips up into her loose hand. Meg gives a small squeeze and returns to slowly stroking, almost teasing - she lets her thumb graze over the head of Dean’s cock as she drags her teeth over his collar.
She doesn’t see it, but she hears Castiel unbutton and unzip his jeans. A moment later Dean’s fingers are digging harder into her arm but she doesn’t complain - the pain is minimal compared to what else she’s experienced. She settles on continuing to jack him off slowly as Castiel holds Dean by the hips, starting to fuck into him.
It must have been a while.
She wonders if Castiel remembers the scar he gave her from shoving her into the holy fire. She wonders if he remembers the way she does picking her up and kissing her. That had burned almost as much as the fire. She wonders what he thinks when he sees her, or if perhaps she’s just a piece in this puzzle that leads to Dean.
She wouldn’t mind if she was. She focuses in on Dean, on the slight quivering of his body, how he arches and gasps and breathes heavier than either of them. Castiel is fucking him roughly, uneven thrusts that make Dean jolt slightly forward. Meg adjusts and thinks about getting off herself (her jeans feel tight, her body just slightly sweaty but she can still feel the pulses between her legs when Dean’s mouth falls open or Castiel bites into his shoulder), but then it seems ridiculous because she’ll just settle for the taste of the memories when the time comes.
His hips quiver and twitch, fingers straying and roughly finding her hip but giving nothing but his own leverage. Meg watches Dean and speeds up the pumps of her fist. She wants to see his face when he comes; when he falls apart with Castiel inside of him and something so unfair in front of him. She wants to be the reason, wants him to come shaking into her palm without hesitation, see him try to keep his breathing even.
It’s satisfying, until Castiel kisses his jaw and Dean scrambles, the hand on her arm finding Cas’ hair and holding on there instead. He comes hard and sudden, kissing Castiel and making small and indistinguishable noises in the back of his throat. Meg pushes him through it and Dean’s hips jerk against her hand but nothing else.
She pulls back and settles on her knees, watching with mostly curiosity as Castiel pulls Dean to his chest, fucks him until he comes too. It’s a strange sight and Meg tilts her head back in time with Dean, though less so than him, and watches the kissing continue.
Meg has done her job. She’s safe now and she has no reason to stay. Dean won’t hunt her down and won’t kill her because he’s found what he was looking for.
She slips out of the vehicle and is almost positive they don’t notice.