Work Text:
Honestly, if you ask Meg what she gets up to on a general Saturday evening, the answer isn’t what you’d expect. Yes, she’s single, nearly 30, and has… a semi-normal amount of friends. You’d think she’d be with them or on a date or something.
No.
See, Meg is actually spending her Saturday evenings staring at her neighbour across the courtyard. Their balconies are directly across from each other and since her neighbour is a man, his curtains are usually wide open. Ergo, she has a direct line of sight into his apartment, where she gets to see all the abs all the time.
Meg’s balcony neighbour is hot and it’s safe to say she’s developed a bit of a crush on him. She watches him work out, most of the time. She watches the way he flawlessly does push-ups in his living room and yoga routines on Sunday mornings. He’s so firm and… flexible. It’s no wonder her vibrator is constantly charging on the bedside table.
Sue her, she has a healthy sex life!
And, no, she actually hasn’t said more than two words to him except in passing and those awkward little tight-lipped smiles. But it’s safe to say that hearing him speak (from what little she has) it’s so so sexy. It’s deep and rumbly and oof, she really wants to order pizza and move some furniture around with him.
Meg has even developed a name for him: Pizza Man. It seems fitting, since she hasn’t actually learned his name but who cares? Meg can live her fantasy lifestyle all she wants! Okay, so she’s seen him carrying pizza across the courtyard once but Balcony Neighbour seems like a mouthful. And so would he , her brain supplies.
Yes, Meg Masters is a pervert but she embraces it wholly. If and when she musters up the courage to talk to sexy Pizza Man, then she can finally put her perverted thoughts to rest. Well, maybe not if the sex is good. And by God, she hopes it’s good. This man looks like domination incarnate with his stupid blue eyes and fluffy sex hair 24/7.
Meg isn’t a poet but she could write prose upon prose of how gorgeous he is. But, alas her responsibilities keep her from picking up journaling or some other sappy shit. Nurse Masters is her profession at the Angelic Mercies psychological institution. Or as her younger patients like to call it: Grippy Sock Vacation Home. They’re not wrong.
She’s lost count of how many times she’s daydreamed about her stupidly hot neighbour while trying to write reports on her patients. It’s not fair he’s always in his living room every time she comes home. He probably works from home, based on the way he does the same yoga routine for 3 weeks and then switches it up, crouching down to his computer every few minutes.
On warmer days, he does his routine on the balcony while Meg sits there with a glass of wine, scrolling through TikTok. Sometimes she’ll film him if she’s feeling extra frisky. Which, alright, yes, is a little creepy but it’s not like he’ll ever know. A girl likes to keep her secrets.
Meg enters her house one fateful day, greeted by her asshole cat Demon, begging for pets and attention. Of course she gives it to him, she’s not a monster. But Jesus, he can be such a dick. His butthole has probably touched every surface in her apartment. Little shit. She loves him, though, filling up his dinner bowl with only the best cat food money can buy.
That’s where she leaves Demon, beginning her ritual of decompression from the work day. First, it’s a shower, hot enough to make her sink into the feeling, maybe she’ll run her fingers along her folds and moan gently as they brush over her clit. It’s anticipation of what’s to come for her later.
The next step is making dinner for herself. Meg doesn’t necessarily like to cook, but she loves her airfryer. It makes her feel more put-together for what is essentially warming up frozen chicken strips. And if she’s really feeling it, she’ll make her own sauce to go with it. To top it all off, as always, with a glass of wine.
Meg is a classy bitch and she feels that everyone should know that fact, despite her thorny outside. Being a Taurus will do that. Material girl mentality does not come cheap but she makes do.
Third step: music. Lately, she’s been listening to a lot of CupcakKe and it’s really been setting the vibe for her entire personality and mentality right now. So she puts some on, dancing in her quaint little kitchen.
Once dinner is finished, she decides to sit out on her balcony; since it’s a nice evening and all. There’s something off about this evening. It’s not bad… just… interesting. It’s eerily quiet. Meg supposes that since it’s Sunday, everyone’s retired early to bed or are inside just chilling.
She then decides to partake in her favourite past-time: watching hot Pizza Man do his Sunday chores. But today is different. When her eyes focus on his balcony, she’s met with a sight that’s for sure to traumatize anyone.
Anyone but Meg.
Because on Pizza Man’s balcony is him… and another guy. Another guy that Pizza Man is balls-deep in. Oh, sweet Lucifer. Arousal floods Meg’s senses. She can’t pull her gaze away, no matter how hard her inner good-girl mentality is trying to.
This is fucking delicious.
She can see the whimpers the other guy is trying to suppress while Pizza Man fucks him hard and fast, his large hand over his mouth. Seeing as this is her one and only opportunity to maybe go TikTok viral, Meg pulls out her phone and opens the silly little app.
She already has the perfect sound in mind. And of course it’s by CupcakKe. And before any of you start thinking, no, she’s not going to outright film porn of her unsuspecting neighbours. She’ll film herself like a good little narcissist.
So she does, and struts her way onto her balcony, mouthing the words to LGBT by CupcakKe. Of course she gives a little sneak peek of what’s across, pointing to her barely visible neighbours. She laughs to herself, writing up the text on the screen:
Developed a crush on my neighbour only to walk out here one day to see him on his balcony balls deep in another guy
Meg watches it one more time before posting it, then shuts off her phone.
---
The next morning when Meg’s alarm goes off, she’s bombarded by notifications from Tiktok and texts from friends. It’s insane. She has four missed calls from Ruby and another two from Anael, their 50 collective texts screaming about her video.
Well, it’s no mistake to say that Meg is enjoying the attention. It’s a good thing she doesn’t work on Mondays… or Tuesdays for that matter. She doesn’t think she could have faced her boss or her patients after that. Most of them have the app so she wouldn’t put it past them to find it eventually.
Now as for her neighbour… well, she’s a little nervous about him seeing the video. It’s cranking up there with the views. And frankly, she’s not thrilled at the idea of him knocking on her apartment door.
In her experience, it’s highly unlikely.
But the universe just loves to prove her wrong. Not even finished with breakfast does she get that dreaded knock on the door. It echoes, and Demon skitters away to his cat tree, perching on the top shelf to judge the oncoming stranger in the hallway.
She doesn’t want to open the door. She wants to pretend that she’s not home. And yet, the music playing on her speakers begs to differ. Fuck. Here goes nothing.
A quick look in the peephole confirms that it is indeed her hot Pizza Man. Fuck! And Mystery Bottom with him. Double fuck!
Don’t pussy out, Meg. Just open the door.
So she does, and Pizza Man and Mystery Bottom give her tight-lipped smiles. Oh no.
“Hi,” she croaks, breaking the awkward silence that has fallen. “Can I help you?”
Mystery Bottom is the first to speak. “Uh, in a way,” he starts. “Mind if we come in?”
Meg reluctantly lets them in, sending a silent plea to Demon to not be an asshole. He doesn’t come down from his tree which is a good sign. She can hear his tail thumping, though, which is a bad sign, but not the worst. Demon’s had some bad luck with strangers, given he’s a feral rescue and Meg is the only human he’s bonded with so far. So this is… progress. Not that Meg isn’t also wary and can and will attack strangers at any given notice but… oh well.
She’s distracted.
Anyone would be if two gorgeous men were in their apartment.
“I’m guessing you saw the video,” she says. Might as well rip the band-aid off. No sense in tip-toeing around it. Meg’s never been a pussy-footer.
Pizza Man clears his throat, and fuck, this is the first time she’ll hear him speak direct words to her. Calm down, nether regions.
“Yes, we saw the video,” he says, all rumbly and serious.
“Kinda hilarious, actually,” chuckles Mystery Bottom, which earns him a very obvious Dom stare from Pizza Man. The two seem to have an entire conversation with their eyes and it’s lowkey hot in Meg’s opinion.
“Keep talking dirty with your eyes. It makes my meatsuit all dewey,” she blurts out. Look, it’s safe to say that Meg Masters has questionable thoughts, even in the worst of times, and actually says them. She’s so perverted it would make Peeping Tom weep.
This seems to catch Pizza Man’s attention, though, levelling the Dom stare onto her. In normal circumstances, she would crumble and submit. But Meg is a brat. And brats don’t go down easy.
“About the video. You want me to take it down?” she asks, hoping to further the point of their unintentional visit. And screw them, she’s finishing her breakfast. They’re the ones who interrupted her morning. They can deal with it.
“Well, no,” says Pizza Man. “We figured it was best to talk to you about this in person.”
Meg takes a bite of her bagel. “Okay, what about? Because I have no fucking idea what this is about if it’s not about taking it down,” she says between chews. She knows it’s gross but again, they can deal. Being polite is for princesses.
Mystery Bottom groans, and Meg senses kinship in brat behaviour. “Cas, don’t draw it out. Tell her.”
Pizza Man-- well, Cas (Meg wonders what it’s short for)-- sighs and stands up, stalking towards her, nearly towering over her. “Developed a crush, hm?” he asks.
And Jesus Christ, Meg might need a new pair of panties. This is hot as fuck.
“Maybe,” she mutters, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “What gave you that impression?”
Cas chuckles. “I’ve seen you watching me for months. Like the way you’ve been watching me. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”
Meg spares a glance to Mystery Bottom then back to Cas. “Well, don’t look at me. He’s your boyfriend, first.”
Cas tilts his head coquettishly. “Dean’s got quite the crush on you, too. He’s seen you but I don’t think you’ve seen him until last night. He’s very private. Works long hours. Mechanic, actually.” His hands land on either side of her, tilting his body down slowly. “Very talented with his tongue, too. As am I.”
Involuntarily, Meg’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Boys, are you propositioning me?”
“That depends,” says Dean, Mystery Bottom no longer a mystery. “On what you want from us.”
“Just sex, pretty boy. I don’t date.”
Dean shrugs. “Fine with me. Cas?” He turns to Cas, who’s now backed away from Meg, his arms crossed against his chest.
“I don’t see why that can’t be agreed upon,” he states, the corners of his mouth quirking into a gentle smile. “Why don’t we discuss the arrangement over dinner later today? Our place.”
And oh, if that isn’t a delicious offer served on a silver fucking platter.
Meg accepts with a sultry smile and in a moment, numbers are exchanged as well as the apartment number for Cas’ place.
--
She ends up catching up some housework that’s been piling up in corners. For instance, her laundry. In all honesty, she’s trying to keep her mind off of what’s going to happen later. Cas, well, Castiel , texted her half an hour ago asking if she had any allergies. He’s so considerate.
Also because she’s not a terrible friend, she ends up group-calling Ruby and Anael, filling them in on everything . They deserve to know. They’re her best friends.
She showers too, shaving everything . She knows it’s not a requirement but Meg loves feeling like a smooth dolphin. Now, her mind has wandered over to imagining if Cas owns silk sheets. He honestly might. She wouldn’t put it past him.
Another text from Cas tells her that he’s starting to make dinner and she should head over soon. This gives her the drive to bust out some of the good tequila she saves for special occasions and pours herself a shot. Liquid courage, and all that.
With a fresh set of underwear, an extra t-shirt, and some overnight toiletries packed in her purse, Meg feeds and says goodbye to Demon and heads over to her neighbour’s apartment. Consider herself manifesting for a really good night.
Silently wondering if she should have taken another shot of tequila, Meg decides not to be a pussy again and raps lightly on the door. Immediately, Dean is on the other side, looking almost eager.
“Look who decided to show up,” he crows, but the telltale look of relief resides in his pretty green eyes.
“I couldn’t turn down such a fine offer, Dean-o.” She takes a whiff of what’s cooking. “Is that the vodka pasta I smell?”
Dean grins, pride glittering in his eyes now. He’s so expressive with his eyes, she’s finding.
“Yeah,” he says. “Cas is watching it but I gotta head back to cooking. Make yourself at home.”
As Meg enters more of the apartment, she’s amazed at how decorated it is. There are old classic rock posters and hanging plants and paraphernalia of Dr. Sexy M.D. There’s even a cluster of small paintings of bees along the wall. Their kitchen is pretty swank, too. Unlike Meg’s cookie-cutter, barely used kitchen.
“I’m afraid I’m useless at cooking,” says Cas, appearing beside her. His large hands are tucked in the front pockets of his jeans and he’s crouched down, looking more like a real person than what Meg’s seen from the comfort of her home. She stares at his 5 o’clock scruff, wondering how it’d feel in between her thighs.
“So am I,” she agrees. Small talk is making her nearly shrink inside herself so when Dean announces for them to quote: ‘sit their asses down’, she takes the opportunity with as much grace as she can muster. It seems like Cas and Dean are also happy to just eat this fucking amazing pasta.
Meg makes a sinful noise around her fork. For a brief moment, she locks eyes with Castiel, who’s gaze has darkened. Fuck. She swallows.
“So, how did you two find the video?” she asks. It doesn’t hurt to know.
Dean clears his throat. “My brother found it, actually. Sent it to me, and I sent it to Cas.”
Meg nods, mulling it over in her head. “Cool brother,” she says finally. “So, what’s the arrangement you wanted to talk about?”
Across from her, Dean turns red and Cas leans back and breathes through his nose.
“Sex, mostly,” Cas begins. “Either with both of us or one of us interchangeably. You choose the situation you want. But since you’re not looking for a romantic relationship, that makes it a bit easier for us for expectations. We can all set boundaries here and now, and see where it takes us.”
“Okay,” says Meg. “I definitely want to fuck both of you, at the same time, and separately. But I’m not your call girl. I can’t be there whenever you want. I have a job, I have a life.”
Both Dean and Cas agree, and the three of them go over kinks, restrictions, anything they won’t do, and the like. They also show proof of being clean of any STI’s, a coincidence given they’ve all taken a test sometime in the last couple of months. Meg hasn’t had time to find anyone to let off some steam lately and Dean and Cas have only been intimate with each other so it’s all good and dandy!
Now, the fun begins.
“How do you want to do this?” she asks, feeling the tell tale heat between her legs begin to move through her whole body. “You said Dean was talented with his tongue, right?”
Dean laughs. “Oh, I’m talented, alright.”
The look in Cas’ eyes is not to be missed, the way they darken and his nostrils flare. His hand seems to reach towards Dean in slow motion, gripping the back of his neck harshly. Dean falters but there’s defiance in his face.
“You said it yourself, Cas. I’m just telling the truth,” he strains.
“Why don’t you show me, then, pretty boy?” Meg taunts, walking her fingers along Dean’s arm, making eye contact with Cas. “If your boyfriend keeps looking at me like that, I think he might want to first.” And she winks, just to be shit about it.
Castiel’s nostrils flare, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a sly smile. “I’m happy to watch,” he says. “Dean can bring you to the bedroom. Then I want you on your hands and knees, ready to take me.”
“Sure thing, boss,” she giggles. “We’re going to heaven, Clarence!”
“Oh, it’ll feel like heaven, sweetheart. I guarantee it,” grunts Dean before setting his hand on the small of her back, leading her inside the spacious bedroom.
She can hear Cas sigh from behind them, clearly having his hands full of two brats discovering just how far they can push their limits. Clearly, his patience is running thin, which is a really good thing for Meg. She wants to get railed into oblivion. She wants her head pushed down as he pistons his cock as fast and as hard and as filthy as she wants it. Her body shivers at the thought of it.
At some point, she ends up on her back on the bed. Silk sheets . Her legs spread in invitation, locking eyes with Dean as he flings off his shirt. And oh, he’s hot. Miles of muscle and shoulder and smooth smooth skin. Meg wants to sink her teeth in and mark him up. Castiel has settled against the dresser, his arms crossed in front of him. Watching. Waiting. His eyebrow has lifted again and it settles there, his mouth set in a hard line.
Strong hands have gripped Meg’s thighs, and Dean slides them up to the waistband of her leggings, pulling them down. Meg lifts her hips up to help. Hey, she’s not going to be the Pillow Princess just yet. She wants to work for it a little. The leggings slide off easily enough, along with her panties. And now, she’s bare from the bottom-down.
“Don’t you wanna see my perky tits?” she fake-pouts, giving Dean her best puppy eyes. She fingers the hem of her shirt, lifting it up over her navel. “They’re real pretty.”
“One thing at a time,” says Dean, eyes flickering over her exposed belly. “But take off your shirt.” Just as he says that, he glances back at Cas, who gives a firm nod. He hasn’t moved from his spot. He just keeps watching and God, if that doesn’t give Meg more arousal than before. She must be soaking now.
Meg strips off her shirt and feels both pairs of eyes on her breasts. Oh, right. She has nipple piercings and she’s not wearing a bra. Her nipples have perked up even more from the cold air, and she stretches her arms over her head.
“Get to it, Ken doll,” she taunts. “This pussy ain’t gonna eat itself.”
Quick as a whip, Cas is right next to her, breathing in her ear. “Watch your tone and behave, slut.”
“Or what, hotshot?” she snips just as easily.
Sharp pain in her scalp. Cas has gripped her hair, pulling hard, and she moans wantonly. “Or you don’t get my cock. Maybe even nothing.” He drops her hair, stalking back to his spot. “Behave.” And it’s not a suggestion by the way his tone has gone harsher.
She knows he’ll give her anything she wants. It’s their first time and even if Meg is being the brattiest brat to ever brat, she’s still going to get railed into next week. It’s so much more fun this way.
Dean’s breath is hot against her entrance, and she squirms. His hands are rubbing her thighs, and she huffs in annoyance. “Okay, officially over the foreplay. Satisfy me or I please myself.”
Cas scoffs but before she can say another word, Dean’s tongue swipes over her folds and he dives right in, sucking and licking over every surface his tongue can reach. Meg’s head falls back, eyes rolling back into her head. Her hand reaches out to grip the short hairs on Dean’s head, who moans, spurred on by her encouragement and sucks harder on her clit, shaking his head to get closer. A hand ends up carding through her hair and she opens her eyes, seeing Cas look at her with such pride.
“You’re doing so well for me,” he murmurs. “Such a good girl for Dean and I.”
There’s a particular spot that Dean’s hitting and it’s making her toes curl. Her back arches and her thighs shake. “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” she cries. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her moans increase in pitch, her thighs tightening with the coil in her lower belly. The hand in Dean’s hair grips tighter as he continues to fuck her with his tongue.
Castiel’s hand in her hair tightens, and he leans in close, their noses touching. “Come for me,” he says. And Meg’s eyes roll back in her head with the orgasm ripping through her. Cas praises her through it and Dean rides it out with her, going slower and slower until he finally stops and pulls back from her, his chin wet with her juices.
Meg laughs dryly. “Talented with his tongue, alright,” she says, boneless.
“Mhm,” says Cas. “He’s so obedient, too. Dean, my love,” he gestures. “Come here, please.”
Just as Cas said, Dean gets up and goes to his boyfriend dutifully. As soon as Dean’s close enough, Cas brings him in for a filthy and sensual kiss that’s getting Meg riled up again. Their mouths are locked, the sounds of wet sucking echoing in the room. When they pull back, Cas licks his lips.
“I was right. You’re as delicious as I imagined,” he concludes. “What’s your orgasm limit, I wonder?”
Still wanting to feel the wrath of Cas’ impatience, Meg snarks. “Do I look like Google to you?”
Cas tsks. “Still need to work on your manners, I see. Even after Dean was so nice to you.” His hands are moving with his words, slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. It’s like he’s deliberately trying to get Meg to be bratty. It’s amazing.
Oh, she’s going to have so much fun with him.
“But I’m talking to you , Clarence,” she remarks, then turns her head to Dean. “Dean, sweetie, you did amazing,” she praises, and Dean’s cheeks flush red.
There’s a moment of quiet, and Meg closes her eyes, still recovering from her orgasm. Her hole pulses, wanting more to fill it. She sighs, stretching her arms above her head, none the wiser. She even nearly forgets that she was supposed to be on her hands and knees for Castiel after Dean was through with her. Oh well. If Cas wants her so bad, he can do it himself.
It seems like all her wishes are coming true. Static fills the room, the tension pulled taut like a bowstring. Two firm, warm, and calloused hands grip her waist and turn her over, and they slide down to pull up her hips, her ass high in the air. She gasps loudly, falling to her elbows.
“You’re so infuriating,” growls Cas from behind.
Meg laughs dryly, shivering at the feel of long fingers brushing over her folds. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.”
“You’re right,” he says, sliding a finger inside, and presses his chest against her back. “I’m going to break you.”
A whimper escapes her lips. A second finger is added, and they’re thrusting gently, nearly torturous. Every so often, they’ll curl against her g-spot. There are licks and bites against the expanse of her back and Meg arches into every single one of them. There’s a third finger, and it stuffs her full. She’s matching his thrusts with her hips now, wanting him deeper. Closer.
She’s almost about to beg for it, honestly. She’s that fucking desperate. But Meg never begs. She’s not some whiny sub who’ll do anything to get off. No. As said earlier, if she’s not satisfied, she’ll please herself. Simple as that. Cas knows this. Dean knows this.
Empty.
“Fuck!” she whines. “ Castiel , for fuck’s sake!”
That earns her a smack on the ass. “Fucking wait for it like a good slut,” he says through gritted teeth.
There it is. The last shred of Cas’ patience is dissolving. It’s so so so good.
The head of Cas’ cock teases her entrance, and she arches, hoping to look as desirable as possible so he’ll fuck her like some depraved beast. It sinks in, stretching her further than his three fingers. Relief spreads through her entire body, and she cries out like a whore.
Fuck yes!
It’s not even another second before he starts grinding his hips into her, thrusting with a slow rhythm. His hand slides up the back of her neck, his palm wrapping around it. Now he starts to pound into her, and her mouth hangs open with her gasps. The feeling of slapping skin on her ass with the sounds of their grunts and moans echo in the room.
Meg opens her eyes, only to see Dean right in front of her, stroking his cock. It’s red and leaking and Jesus, she wants to suck him off. Cas seems to notice this, because the hand on her neck squeezes.
“Look at how eager he is,” he grunts. “Suck his cock for me. I want to see.”
“Kinky, I like,” she says, wobbling back up on her hands. Dean’s right there, his cock in front of her open mouth. Their eyes meet and Meg lifts her eyebrows in invitation. Her tongue cushions his cock sliding in her mouth, precome dripping in the back of her throat. She’s trying not to choke as Cas just thrusts harder and harder into her. But Dean seems to like it, since his hand is in her hair, holding her in place.
“That’s it,” Cas encourages. His fingers are now digging into her hips, and she’s probably going to end up with bruises which will be awesome and Meg’s going to enjoy seeing them after the fact. She moans around Dean’s dick, and he sucks in a breath, tugging on her hair harder. “She’s so soft, isn’t she, Dean?”
Meg can’t see Dean’s response since all she can hear are his moans, Cas’ grunts, and her own sounds. There’s that familiar coil again, and Meg, cants her hips to meet Castiel’s thrusts and Dean’s thighs are quivering so he must be close too. She swirls her tongue around his cock, her jaw aching. But she’s determined to get them both to come.
Meg’s a bit of a cock-slut. That’s pretty obvious. But she’s also a cum-slut. She can’t wait to have Dean’s release in her throat. She loves that salty taste. She also loves the feeling of her insides being painted. Meg Masters is a whore and she loves it.
Castiel speeds up his thrusts, and Dean’s grip in her hair is tighter and tighter. He’s barely even saying anything before he spills deep inside her throat. She chokes a little, yeah. It’s not like she was prepared for it but she takes the majority of it like a champ. Dean apologizes as he pulls out of her mouth, cum dripping out of her lips.
Cas is still pounding into her so she can’t say much but she offers Dean a smile and a nod. The coil goes tighter and tighter until Dean starts stroking her back.
“You’re doing so good, Meg,” he says. “Go on, come for us again.”
And she does, screaming, clenching around Cas’ cock. Her arms buckle and she collapses on her elbows again, chest flat on the mattress. There are a few more harsh thrusts from Cas before he stills and spills his load inside her. Fuck, it feels so good. It’s amazing.
He pulls out after a moment and flips her on her back once more, and both him and Dean get to work on her clit and hole, basically drinking Cas’ release out of her. Still completely sensitive, it isn’t long before Meg is needing to come again. She’s screaming, crying, sobbing. She doesn’t know what’s right or left. All she knows is pleasure, pleasure, pleasure.
She comes again in minutes, shaking. Both men pull back and settle on either side of her, stroking and kissing every expanse of skin they can reach. There are now two tongues on her nipples, fiddling with the barbell piercings. Meg sighs and basically lays there while they do all the work.
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” she remarks, then gasps when another finger starts fucking her again. It’s Dean’s this time, and Castiel kisses up her neck, her jaw, then her lips. He’s so sinfully talented with his mouth, that it’s making her dizzy. Dean curls his finger to her g-spot again and basically massages it while his thumb rubs circles on her clit. Her noises are swallowed by Cas’ mouth, and she comes again , eyes rolling to the back of her skull.
They release her finally, both seemingly done with making her come. But God, if that wasn’t the most insanely pleasurable experience ever.
“I think I owe your brother a fruit basket,” Meg pants, the onslaught of her multiple orgasms catching up to her.
Dean laughs. “Don’t fucking mention my brother after we just fucked the living daylights out of you!”
Meg joins him. “I’m just saying! He’s the one who found the video!”
“I agree,” says Cas, turning over on his side and laying his head on his hand. “We should do something nice for Sam. Invite him over for dinner or something.”
Dean mirrors him. “We’re not telling him why, though, right?”
“Of course not.” Cas frowns.
Meg sits up, her back screaming. But she ignores it. “If you did, it would be really funny. Maybe I'll join you.”
Dean sighs. “Look, if he asks about it, I’ll tell him. But I won’t invite him to dinner just to tell him that he’s the matchmaker for some awesome sex.”
“I would,” says Meg.
“Of course you would.”
The rest of the night tapers off into some much needed aftercare and Meg ends up using their shower, since she’s covered in sweat and spunk. It’s fine, though. It’s an opportunity for Meg to snoop further. God, they’re such a couple. So many shared things.
She ends up staying the night, squished between two beautiful men. It ends up being a little too hot but Meg is spiteful so she stays. It’s… nice. Being cared for. It’s not like she’s looking for a relationship, nor does she want one but there’s just something about another person holding you that Meg sometimes craves.
Eugh. Enough sappy brain mush.
Meg returns the next morning to her apartment, not without Dean making her some amazing breakfast, and is immediately bombarded by Demon, demanding where she was. He’s so sweet when he wants to be.
Her body aches all over and she loves it. She can’t wait for next time, and neither can the boys apparently. There’s a text from each of them and she smiles. It’s really becoming her year, isn’t it?