[I wrote some megstiel smut on my lunch break. Enjoy!]
Meg's a demon. No way is she letting any blue-eyed, honey-gathering angel change that. If they're going to do this, she thinks, she's going to corrupt him, in every way imaginable, until he's as wretched and debauched as she is.
So she talks dirty to make him blush, holds back to make him beg, forces him to confess exactly what he wants to do to her and what he wants her to do to him. And his confessions are delicious. He wants her on her knees, wants to eat her out, wants to fuck her into the mattress, he wants to make her scream, and with every demand, Meg imagines his grace cringing within him.
Soon they're both a sweaty mess, Meg face-down on the bed, Cas holding her still as he pushes into her with slow, lazy thrusts--"I want to make you desperate"--and she's crying out, her voice ragged, "fuck, Castiel, just let me come. Please."
Then he takes her by the chin and turns her face toward him, smirking as he tells her, "I love it when you pray to me. Prayer is good for the soul."
And she can't even bring herself to be angry, because she's coming so hard she can't think straight, and all she can see are blue eyes and stars.