Word Count: ~3,000
Spoilers:Gabriel exists. Dean was in Hell.
Notes/Warnings: Sequel to More Than Whole and You Will Obey. You Can't Not. and Lock Me In
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.
When Dean wakes up, he braces himself for more of a battle of wills, more press-pull-push of dominance and submission, fighting against himself constantly, but it's not like that. The darkness greets him like a lazy serpent, curling around Dean's essence, sliding along and around him and Dean shivers, swallowing, his body tensing up a little more as soft pleasure blankets him. He feels warmth all around him and starts to sweat and breathe a little harder, and there's a bank of heat in front of him and one behind him. He presses back into the heat because that's where the darkness is, coiling around him like a warm fist, and Dean moans softly, eyelids fluttering open, trying to orientate himself.
His eyes lock onto Castiel's face first, as the Angel's laying down in front of him and staring right on back at him. Dean swallows, feeling the darkness flare inside of him and coil just a bit tighter, that pleasure peaking under the Angel's intense gaze, and then there's an arm around Dean's chest, pulling him back, and Dean turns his head to see Gabriel. The demon side of Dean positively lights up, swelling for its master, and Dean gasps at the tight constriction, the bone-deep desire and need to please, coiling up inside of him, driving through him in powerful throbbing pulses that feel like sex, like Dean's being fucked to within an inch of his life. He's breathless with the sensation.
He clears his throat and tries to ask what's going on, but all that comes out is a needy half-sound. The hand on Gabriel's side fumbles for the Archangel's clothing and fists tightly in his shirt, tugging gently because his muscles aren't really obeying him. Dean's breathing is coming a little harder and he can feel himself hardening in the jeans that the Angels let him fall asleep in, but he's shirtless, and his heart is pounding.
He makes another soft noise, and feels gentle fingers at his chin, turning him back to face Castiel. The Seraph glances briefly at his brother, and Gabriel gives a nod – even though the dark part of Dean is more aware at this moment, Dean is Castiel's charge and Hunter. Gabriel has no claim to the human side of him and the Archangel understands that.
Their kiss is gentler than it had been last night. Castiel's coaxing, soft, almost teasing. His hand cups Dean's jaw and pulls the Hunter closer to him, licking lightly at Dean's lower lip until the Hunter opens, and the rough of his tongue is a dirty, slow slide into Dean's mouth that almost has Dean shying back, hunching his shoulders, unsure how to respond to Castiel as the aggressor. But the Angel is patient, drawing Dean into him, closer like a moth to a flame and Dean's helpless but to obey – the darkness is purring at the treatment and Dean's body throbs with the need to take, to be taken, to be claimed, to wring satisfaction from these powerful creatures. He needs to please them, so Dean doesn't deny Castiel – he opens up so nicely, tilting his head and closing his eyes and relaxing into it, meeting strike for strike, exploring as he wasn't able to before, and make Castiel shiver. He likes it when Castiel shivers.
The Angel's eyes are half-lidded and half-black when Dean's need for air interrupts them, and the Hunter is flushed and panting, his body quaking with the desire to be full and sated, to sate and fill in return. "Please," he whispers, but he's not sure what he's begging for – he just knows the Angels can give it to him.
He grabs at Castiel, his hands greedy and needing, wanting, and the Angel just goes. He rolls on top of Dean and settles between the Hunter's eagerly, absently spread legs, and Dean whines, tilting his head back, swallowing. His Adam's apple bobs and shines with sweat, edging into Gabriel's handprint, and Castiel leans down and bites at it, feeling the animal desire to mark and claim building up inside of him, dormant desires to mate rising up and rearing its head.
The darkness flares at the brand being touched by a foreign presence, a foreign tongue, and it twists, rebelling from within Gabriel's restraints, but Dean just feels it as wild passion, a fierce kind of lust that has spines and heat and digs into him, incensing and consuming.
"Don't touch him there," Gabriel whispers, pushing at Castiel's head to the unmarked side of Dean's neck, and though the Seraph grumbles, he goes, moving his hands to Dean's thighs and hauling them up as though Dean weighs nothing, and Dean whines, arching and bucking his hips when Castiel's hard heat falls in line with his own, because fuck, that feels nice.
"Cas…" Dean moans, like a broken thing, turning his head to one side and baring his throat, and Gabriel's there to meet him. The Archangel's watching him like he's waiting for something to happen, and Dean reaches out and takes hold of his arm. "Gabriel."
The Archangel's kiss is not like Castiel's – Castiel kisses like he owns Dean, like he knows this and nothing will ever change that, like it's equal and opposite, claiming and being claimed, and it feels like the Angel has infinite patience to taste and explore while Dean falls apart at his mouth. Gabriel is not like that. The Archangel…is overwhelming. So completely absolute that it's terrifying. Dean can do little more than cower in the front of that white-hot whole.
The darkness, however, is not cowed. It rises up to greet its master, purring like a jungle cat and fighting like a dog, teasing, playful, goading. Dean whimpers, fighting against the darkness because no, they can't anger or provoke this powerful creature, can't make him angry or let him loose, but the dark, demonic part of Dean is all for it. It is push-and-retreat, growling and fleeing. It will tear at Gabriel and dole out wounds and then draw away and leave the Archangel to chase. Dean feels Gabriel moving in like a tsunami, like a tidal wave that burns.
Castiel's still there, anchoring the human side of Dean amidst the maelstrom of the Archangel's presence, sealing them both together and Dean can't fathom how humans used to mate to Angels all the time, because this is fucking frightening – he wants to run, wants to curl up into nothing and hide.
"Dean." Castiel's voice yanks him out, places him back in the here and now and Dean breaks from Gabriel's kiss with a gasp. Sweat is plastering his hair to his face and his eyes are wide and wild, and he's breathing like he's forced his body to sprint a marathon and is about to do more.
The Hunter's shaking so badly, it's like he's having a seizure. One hand is at Castiel's shoulder, the other curling around Gabriel's neck, in a mirror of where the Angels' own marks are on him and he's panting against Gabriel's cheek, eyes closed, just trying to be and not be overcome.
"Shh, it's okay." Gabriel's voice comes a second after Castiel wills all of their clothes away, and Dean whines at the feeling of bare skin against skin, but it's not just that – Castiel and Gabriel are both bright and blazing with Grace, even cut off from Heaven as they are. "Be still, Hunter." And Dean's trying – Lord, he's trying – but it's really fucking difficult with the darkness playing runaround, and Castiel grounding him and it's like the world is whirling by him but he's staying still, so it's all a blur and he can't concentrate on any one point and he's trying to latch on but it's spinning too fast. "Be still."
The darkness slides to a stop at the order, flattening out and purring, on its back for Gabriel as Dean feels Castiel's first fingers breaching him, splitting him apart and Gabriel's essence drives into Dean's demon side as well. Dean feels too full, so stretched and sated and ripped apart and it's…God, it's good. It's fucking amazing, actually. He needs to touch. He whines, clenching his eyes tightly shut and feeling blindly, shoving the Archangel and laying sloppy kisses to whatever part of Gabriel is under his mouth. He doesn't know – he doesn't care. He just needs.
"Castiel, stop teasing him." Gabriel's voice is shaking and the darkness curls up around the bindings of Gabriel's Grace, tugging the Archangel's presence closer, and Gabriel, God bless him, he just goes. He submits to Dean's needy pull because he knows the feeling of desiring something, of craving something so completely that being denied is like a knife to the brain.
Dean whimpers when Castiel pulls his slick fingers out of him, wrapping his legs around the Angel, demanding he stay. He wants, so badly. His mouth is pressed against Gabriel's stomach and he muffles his desperate cries against the Grace-heated skin when finally, finally, thank God, Dean feels something wider start to split him open. His eyes flare open and he throws his head back, gasping at the sensation of being so consumed, and his hands find Castiel, digging into soft, warm flesh, pulling, twisting, digging in with nails when necessary. The feeling…being stretched so full. It's glorious – both sides of Dean roil and whip around inside of him and the Hunter can do little more than breathe, but fuck, does he still need. He fists a hand in Castiel's dark, messy hair and drags him down, drowning in the Angel's kiss as Castiel drives to the hilt inside of him, and Dean finally feels like everything's okay. Even as he is, unable to do more than breathe and stare, unable to speak or move or think, he feels alright. Whole. More than that.
The blackness flares up again when Gabriel shifts closer, taking permission from his silent brother that he can touch Dean. Castiel rolls them so that he's on his back, Dean straddling him and the Hunter whimpers when the action causes him to sink down a little more. He throws his head back, tears in his black-ringed eyes, and swallows, bracing his clenched fists on Castiel's chest. He's clenching tightly, so tightly around Castiel – the Seraph feels suffocated, buried in the Hunter's tight heat, and he knows from the look in Gabriel's eyes that it's about to get tighter and hotter, and he'd be lying if he said the idea didn't make him burn even brighter.
Gabriel claims Dean's attention by flattening his palm to the mark on Dean's neck, and Dean's eyes go completely black when he stares at the Archangel, still seated on Castiel, either unable or unwilling to move – none of them are quite sure. Castiel's hands are digging bruises into Dean's hips, making the Hunter whine and roll and clench and it's glorious.
The Archangel smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth but pulls away before the Hunter can meet him, and instead moves so he's behind Dean, also seated on Castiel who bears the weight as though it isn't there, and perhaps it isn't to him. Dean whines and Castiel can't see what's happening, but Gabriel's hand tightens on Dean's neck, wrapped under his opposite arm so Gabriel can seal his hand over the brand, and suddenly there's more than just Castiel inside of Dean – the Seraph bucks his hips involuntarily, feeling Gabriel's slick fingers sliding in alongside him, and his eyes are wide, fixed on the pair above him.
Dean moans brokenly, wanting to bend forward, to hide and shield himself because like this he's so completely exposed, but Gabriel's hold isn't letting him. He can't rise away because Castiel's holding him down – there's no escape, and the trapped part of him loves that, revels in being held down and used for the Angels' pleasure. Gabriel's Grace is flowing into him, soothing his muscles and forcing him to spread without injuring himself, because Dean's going from zero to sixty here and his body isn't used to it, but the Archangel is gentle – as gentle as he has to be, handling both sides of Dean. If it were just the demon, it would be an all-out fight for dominance, a clash of two powerful wills and powers and Gabriel and Castiel and Dean all know this. This gentleness and patience – that's all for Dean's sake, and the Hunter appreciates it.
At least, he will when he's lucid again.
Castiel and Dean both let out twin moans when Gabriel's fingers withdraw, replaced with his hard cock, which slides into Dean as though the Hunter is used to taking so much, and Dean moans, bending forward because he has to, and he grits his teeth, fisting one hand in the sheets beside Castiel's head, the other holding onto the Archangel's thigh behind him. Castiel bucks his hips up involuntarily, tossing his head back as he feels Dean stretch and tighten around him, taking both him and his brother, and fuck, he's so warm inside, and slick through their Graces. When Gabriel thrusts in, in short, sharp bursts until he's fully seated, it's like nirvana. It's a total circuit between the three of them and it's amazing.
When Dean opens his eyes, one is green, the other is black. A perfect balance for his Angels, and he's blowing out his breath like a winded horse, shaking and tightening around them so perfectly, but taking it so well. His body is flushed and covered in sweat but he's beautiful, so fucking beautiful. Castiel's hand goes through his hair, and the Angel rises up, sitting in an impossible-for-humans bend and kisses Dean, and the other two men shift to compensate, so Gabriel slides a little deeper inside of Dean and the Hunter jolts as something inside of him is pressed against, flashing white-hot and sudden.
"God," he cries, turning his head and burying his face in Castiel's neck, letting the Angels just move him and ride him as they please, because he can't get his legs or arms to work – he can barely speak or think. "Oh, fuck, Cas, Gabriel…God, yes -."
"Shh, Dean-o, you know better," Gabriel growls, fisting a hand in Dean's hair and yanking his head back, punishing the Hunter with an extra hard thrust into his tight, willing, pliant body, and Dean whines and flinches, ducking his head in submission.
Sorry, master, sorry, so sorry…
"Shh, it's alright." The Archangel strokes through his hair and places a kiss to the brand on his neck. "It's alright, baby." Dean nods, swallowing again – he understands. Fuck, Gabriel, just keep doing that. "You're a good boy, Dean. You're alright."
"So perfect, Dean," Castiel whispers, joining in his brother's praise, and Dean whines, purrs, whimpers for more of it – yes, yes, need to please, need to do good, yes. "Perfect. Come on, Dean, come on…" The Hunter sighs softly, nosing along Castiel's neck and rests his forehead there, and moans again when Castiel's hand closes around him, only jerking him twice before he's overwhelmed, coming onto Castiel's stomach and hand and chest with a low, broken groan. "There we go, Dean, so beautiful, yes…"
Dean's body locks up so completely as he comes, stock-still and immobile, that he forces both Angels' orgasms from them simultaneously, and both Angels come with a low groan against his sweaty, flushed skin, Castiel baring his teeth, Gabriel biting down on the back of Dean's neck and shedding blood. The darkness rolls over for the blood pact, loving how Gabriel nuzzles into him, tastes him, owns him, and how Castiel pets him and soothes him through the aftershocks. Gabriel slides out easily once he softens, and Dean winces at the wet sound it makes, feeling sore and split open but still loving it. He feels…God, he feels ripped apart, but held together in the circle of the Angels' arms.
When Gabriel makes to move away, Dean catches his arm. "Stay," he whispers, voice low and rough and fucked-out. He blinks away tears from his eyes and tugs at Gabriel. "Stay."
The Archangel looks over Dean's shoulder, to Castiel, who pushes himself up a little more so he's leaning against the headboard, supporting Dean easily as though the human weighs nothing, and the Seraph doesn't say a thing, but his eyes are certain and lack any storm. His lips quirk up a little in a smile.
Gabriel sighs, and closes his eyes, and nuzzles into Dean's neck. "Alright, Dean. I'll stay."
And when Dean sees Sam the next day, there is nothing. No throbbing need to obey – no desire to fall to his knees for Sam, no need to swear fealty to his demon general. Dean is completely and utterly theirs, not Sam's, and he's…fuck, he's alright with that. He's sated and content. He has an Archangel and an Angel sharing his bed and sharing his soul and they're his and he's theirs. He will fight to the death for Sam and they'll be right along with him. They will win this.
He will obey, and together, they will win.
Alright guys, I think this marks the end of the Obedience!Verse. I gave you porn, and it was shit-hard to write, and I honestly don't think I can wring any more out of this aside from writing more porn, which, as I mentioned before, was shit-hard. So…yeah :D