[ Keeping Sam out of the loop is a pretty high priority on her list, Dean's quickly slipping control calling a bit more attention than she'd intended. And alright, maybe she's a little proud of herself -- enough that she doesn't worry too much about the younger Winchester right now. Something about research made Sam a little too oblivious to everything else going on around him. Even when they're being blatantly obvious, especially after hunts. Close calls often drove her straight back into Dean's arms, searching for the reminder that they were alive and whole.
It was the easiest way to forget about some of the shit they see, some of the reminders of the past that can get dredged up -- especially with some of the mouthier fucks they deal with. While she didn't hold the same level of notoriety as Dean in some of the darker circles or have the same impact as the Winchester name, the murmurs of the Hedge Witch that wasn't ripped to shreds playing host to the Monster of Blackspire's sister. The same one who'd killed gods without much of a thought, an attempted bringer of another apocalypse. And she had the scars on her back still to show how closely she'd danced with death to get rid of that bitch.
Part of her wonders if her own history is why Sam was hesitant to drag that particular pantheon into this particular mess. It was sweet that he wanted to protect her, but she could handle it. And if Dean's reactions weren't so fucking wonderfully distracting, this whole moment might've turned much more serious. Instead of caution, she just wanted to hear that growl again, but against her ear as he fucked her into oblivion.
She bites her thumb to mask a little victorious grin, playing off the hum in response to his hand as her verbal consideration of the proposal. ]
Yeah, I think I'm done for the night. Especially if we're possibly going to summon a lesser God tomorrow to talk -- I need to sleep. [ Not true, considering she'd summoned when running on just fumes before. He didn't need to know that, however. Sam gives her a tired smile and thanks her for coming again as she reluctantly pulls her hand out of Dean's briefs, Julia barely biting back a kneejerk response that she hadn't come yet. Once she has Dean's hand out of her own pants, she's quick to rebutton and re-zip, covering it with talking. ] Don't stay up too late, Sam. Books don't make for good pillows.
[ And once she's got herself put back together, she brushes her hand over Dean's thigh as she pushes her chair out. Rising, she tells them both goodnight before heading in the direction of the room she'd claimed. She adds a bit of a swing to her hips as her heels click against the floor, rounding a corner and slipping out of sight. She doesn't go far, back pressed into the wall in the shadows of the dark hallway, waiting for Dean. ]
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It was the easiest way to forget about some of the shit they see, some of the reminders of the past that can get dredged up -- especially with some of the mouthier fucks they deal with. While she didn't hold the same level of notoriety as Dean in some of the darker circles or have the same impact as the Winchester name, the murmurs of the Hedge Witch that wasn't ripped to shreds playing host to the Monster of Blackspire's sister. The same one who'd killed gods without much of a thought, an attempted bringer of another apocalypse. And she had the scars on her back still to show how closely she'd danced with death to get rid of that bitch.
Part of her wonders if her own history is why Sam was hesitant to drag that particular pantheon into this particular mess. It was sweet that he wanted to protect her, but she could handle it. And if Dean's reactions weren't so fucking wonderfully distracting, this whole moment might've turned much more serious. Instead of caution, she just wanted to hear that growl again, but against her ear as he fucked her into oblivion.
She bites her thumb to mask a little victorious grin, playing off the hum in response to his hand as her verbal consideration of the proposal. ]
Yeah, I think I'm done for the night. Especially if we're possibly going to summon a lesser God tomorrow to talk -- I need to sleep. [ Not true, considering she'd summoned when running on just fumes before. He didn't need to know that, however. Sam gives her a tired smile and thanks her for coming again as she reluctantly pulls her hand out of Dean's briefs, Julia barely biting back a kneejerk response that she hadn't come yet. Once she has Dean's hand out of her own pants, she's quick to rebutton and re-zip, covering it with talking. ] Don't stay up too late, Sam. Books don't make for good pillows.
[ And once she's got herself put back together, she brushes her hand over Dean's thigh as she pushes her chair out. Rising, she tells them both goodnight before heading in the direction of the room she'd claimed. She adds a bit of a swing to her hips as her heels click against the floor, rounding a corner and slipping out of sight. She doesn't go far, back pressed into the wall in the shadows of the dark hallway, waiting for Dean. ]