[ Oh, she remembers. And she gives as good as she gets, a point of pride for her. No one's ever accused her of being a pillow princess and she'd like to keep it that way.
Her small victory is short-lived when he shifts closer to her and oh fuck. She keeps her gaze fixed on Dean as he joins the conversation, pulling a book closer as her breathing finally falters just a bit. Nothing noticeable to anyone but the man with his hands down her pants -- especially with Sam's quick disregard as he dives back into thinking out loud.
Julia's jaw clenches, a quick decision made. Fine, two could play this game. She leans back a bit in the chair, picking up a pencil so she has something to fidget with as Dean begins to work her over. As quietly as possible, she begins to pull at the closure of his jeans and works to get the zipper down as far as she can while she talks. ]
I'm not saying you're right, Sam, because I think this warrants a lot more thought... But, some extremely dangerous and dark magic with enough power behind it can resurrect just about anything. Especially if the suggestions in the Greek text is correct. Most in that pantheon are dead and all that power has to go somewhere to maintain the balance.
[ She can already feel herself already wanting Sam to leave so she can just swing a leg over Dean's lap and get straight to it. But, the researcher in her is also very invested in the spitballing, throwing ideas at the wall to see what sticks.
Feigning looking at the page, she lets her head drop, her hair obscuring her face as her hips shift slightly against his fingers as he circles her clit, her hand finally settling on her mark. Deftly, she runs a nail down the length of his cock, flicking her thumb over the tip once she reaches it. Wrapping her fingers around him would draw too much attention, Dean currently having the advantage. For now. ]
( he certainly wouldn't deny that. their romps were nothing short of worth the time that spanned between. dean wasn't a stranger to casual hookups, nor was he to spending more than one night with the same woman—it came with too many complications. but as it stands, she's mixed up in those complications herself, so it makes it all a little easier, a little more thoughtless.
he hears that little bite to her breath, how it stutters at the back of her throat before she allows herself to settle back against the wooden chair. he can't help but to think how he wouldn't mind fucking her against it, but he'll blame that on her own devilish touch finding a way to work his cock without even directly getting her hands on it. he's already started to stiffen, sure she can feel the way he swells against that damned nail dragging down along the fabric of his briefs.
it's when her touch catches at the tip that he sees little sparks of white, lip furling subtly enough that it'd appear no more than an in-thought tick.
truthfully, he has no idea what the hell they're talking about, and at the moment, he doesn't care. he keeps that pressure at her clit, breaking the momentum only to dip that fingertip lower, pressing only half an inch or so inside of her through the thin layer of her panties, before it slides back. he's practiced enough to know that steadiness and consistency wins the race he's currently bargaining for, rolling his touch right over that bundle of nerves. )
[ Julia wasn't the type to have casual hookups, she came with too many dangers for the average person. One wrong move and that would be more blood on her hands of people who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time in her orbit. So, the little escapes with Dean weren't something to complain about. He got it and in this world, that was rare.
It takes a lot of effort to focus, to listen and continue the conversation without missing a beat. But, she can feel him reacting to her touch -- glad she's not the only one getting worked up.
Sam responds and she catches the first bit. At least until Dean's finger dips lower and her brain sort of short circuits as he presses into her, her own hand stilling at the waistband of his briefs. She can't stop herself from licking her lips, capturing her lower one in a feigned appearance of thought -- grateful for often worrying her lower lip when brainstorming so it doesn't stand out. Her legs fall open, fighting the urge to make a noise when Dean's hand moves again, Sam catching her attention with her name. She clears her throat, adjusting as she continues her earlier trajectory and slips her hand into the waistband of his briefs.
Sam was asking her something, but she's been far away from this conversation for the last bit. Mention of possibly trying to summon a lesser God to get some intel -- an idea Julia wouldn't be opposed to if that's actually what he'd said. But, she doesn't want to guess... So, she does what she does best in these types of situations. She redirects, trying to shift Sam's attention away from herself by brushing her hair out of her face with her unoccupied hand and looking at Dean. She speaks as she slowly slides her fingers around him until she has him in a firm grip. ]
You know, I'd love to hear Dean's take on it. [ She cants her head to the side slightly, a smirk finding her lips as she watches him. Julia makes a point to mimic the swirling motions she's done with her tongue when she reaches the tip again -- covering her movements as she shifts again in the seat. This was her attempt to even the playing field and drag him back in, at least for a minute. Get rid of the unfair advantage he had of being able to totally slack off during research discussions. ]
Wouldn't want you to feel left out of the conversation.
( he's a simple man. really, he is—and when there's a pair of deft, skilled fingers wrapping warmly around his cock, he dwindles down to nothing more than hunger. it's a carnality he's familiarized himself with since he can remember, one of the only means of comfort aside from food that brought him some sort of satisfaction, that made him forget about all of the shit surrounding him even if just briefly. sometimes he wished sam would get the hint a little sooner—that he wasn't so god damn engrossed in his research to pick up on when it was time to scram.
it wouldn't of been the first time sammy had to see himself out for one of dean's romps, but at the present, the only slack he can cut him is the fact that sam actually doesn't know about their indulgences. how he'd taken her in the back of baby, had her up against the bricks at a bar they'd stopped in a few months back after a particularly nasty hunt.
she redirects all attention to him and she's winding him up enough with her touch alone that he's getting to a tipping point, one that'd probably wind up pretty awkward for her if they kept it up at this rate. there's an audible growl when she curls her wrist when it nears the tip, length swelling all too readily in her hand, enough to rigidly stand upright if she were to let it go. his brother eyes him, and he pinches at the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut, doing his best to mask it as no more than exhaustion. to help his position, he can't remember the last time he'd gotten more than four hours of sleep.
he attempts to steel himself, cupping against her pussy, using the heel of his hand to grind against her. but his movements are sloppy, often interrupted, tongue prodding at the inner of his cheek. )
Y'know, I'm not sure I'm in the right frame of mind to be deciding whether or not we should bring in God's penpals. ( thankfully the laptop before him covers her forearm from sammy's line of sight, the way his hips give a little rut, dragging palm over his features before he's grabbing for his beer to finish it off. )
How bout we call it a night, huh? If you two nerds want to keep at the rosetta stone—ah, be my guest.
[ 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. ]
( he's got a feeling sam wasn't going to hit the sack just yet, and while he's every bit tempted to get up and follow right after her, he keeps to himself while she refastens her bottoms, presses herself up from where she'd sat beside him and tuts her way toward the darkened hall at the rear end of the bender. of course she'd keep those fucking heels on—if he has anything to say about it, they'll be on for awhile still to come. sam's still fingering through one of the books at his side and the laptop reflecting a blue glare against his features. )
C'mon, Sam. The bastards can wait a night. ( it only earns a dry huff of a laugh, a tilt at the edge of his brothers lips. he's able to quickly do up his jeans again, having to tuck his length open so the bulge wouldn't be so obvious when he finally stood, grabbing for the neck of his beer bottle. he'd noted the way she'd turned when she'd met the hall, already debating which room he wanted to tug her into, or if he'd rather just press her chest to the cold of the wall and fuck her against it, hand clamped over her mouth.
it's when this kind of energy, hot and demanding, courses through him that part of his psyche is tugged back to when he'd had the mark, tossing bottle in the trash at the edge of the library. and that's where he leaves sam, still studious and quiet, putting up a new challenge on the horizon: keeping her quiet enough that his brother wouldn't hear. he looms knowingly down the corridor, and when he spots her lithe frame his cock gives a twitch in anticipation, chest a fury of heat.
he waits until he's just a step away to grab at her hip, jarring her back against the wall with a lack of delicacy. free hand goes right back to that heat between her thighs, ripping open the button and zipper, clear that he wasn't quite in the mood for any more foreplay. he growls, capturing her mouth in a messy kiss, free hand running up the nape of her neck to make a fistful of her hair. a break, lips fumbling against hers. )
[ He doesn't leave her waiting long, although she was wondering if she was going to have to play dumb for a second if it was Sam getting up before Dean -- either dipping into a room or getting turned around. Or slipping off her heels and wrapping the shadows around herself in the hopes of not being noticed.
She can hear the deep timber of their voices, knowing if she hadn't been jacking off Dean under the table, she'd still be in there with him. Pouring over the books older than what's available on the internet and scrambling for an answer -- a way to possibly save Dean before he either gets dragged back in or killed. But, too many near death experiences have taught her that staying up too late with research only hurts everyone in the long run. That relaxation and sleep could make just about anything easier to process. It was strange how being in an almost perpetual state of crisis can make just about anything seem tame. Death knights coming back? Easy. Hell, after moving the literal moon and dealing with her being angry paired with moon sickness from staying up for 3 days? Cake walk.
It made letting her guard down enough to play whatever game she was attempting with Dean easier. He all but stalks towards her and her body tightens in anticipation -- ready for him to be aggressive after the demonstration earlier. And he doesn't dissapoint. The button all but pops off of her jeans when he tears them open, barely swallowing a moan as she grips onto his shirt. In the shadows of the hallway, she doesn't hold back, melting into the kiss as she tears open his pants. Julia lets him call the shots for now, a balance of give and take -- it was just her turn to take in the hallway. Long brown curls tangle around his hair, having worn it down specifically for him. Along with the easy access tanktop and the thin underwear and quick to shove aside push up bra. Whether he uses her hair to pull her to the right spot to fuck her or drag her to her knees, she has no interest in stopping him. She didn't mind it getting rough when it was on her own terms, knowing a single word would get Dean to back off. But she'd worked him up for a reason tonight, to blow off steam in a way conversations with his brother never could.
She catches his lower lip in her teeth, giving it a light pull as she frees him of his briefs. ]
Never learned how. [ Her fingers wrap around him, grip firm and confident as she smirks against his lips -- already having to concentrate a bit too much on whispering. ] What're you gonna do about it?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Her small victory is short-lived when he shifts closer to her and oh fuck. She keeps her gaze fixed on Dean as he joins the conversation, pulling a book closer as her breathing finally falters just a bit. Nothing noticeable to anyone but the man with his hands down her pants -- especially with Sam's quick disregard as he dives back into thinking out loud.
Julia's jaw clenches, a quick decision made. Fine, two could play this game. She leans back a bit in the chair, picking up a pencil so she has something to fidget with as Dean begins to work her over. As quietly as possible, she begins to pull at the closure of his jeans and works to get the zipper down as far as she can while she talks. ]
I'm not saying you're right, Sam, because I think this warrants a lot more thought... But, some extremely dangerous and dark magic with enough power behind it can resurrect just about anything. Especially if the suggestions in the Greek text is correct. Most in that pantheon are dead and all that power has to go somewhere to maintain the balance.
[ She can already feel herself already wanting Sam to leave so she can just swing a leg over Dean's lap and get straight to it. But, the researcher in her is also very invested in the spitballing, throwing ideas at the wall to see what sticks.
Feigning looking at the page, she lets her head drop, her hair obscuring her face as her hips shift slightly against his fingers as he circles her clit, her hand finally settling on her mark. Deftly, she runs a nail down the length of his cock, flicking her thumb over the tip once she reaches it. Wrapping her fingers around him would draw too much attention, Dean currently having the advantage. For now. ]
no subject
he hears that little bite to her breath, how it stutters at the back of her throat before she allows herself to settle back against the wooden chair. he can't help but to think how he wouldn't mind fucking her against it, but he'll blame that on her own devilish touch finding a way to work his cock without even directly getting her hands on it. he's already started to stiffen, sure she can feel the way he swells against that damned nail dragging down along the fabric of his briefs.
it's when her touch catches at the tip that he sees little sparks of white, lip furling subtly enough that it'd appear no more than an in-thought tick.
truthfully, he has no idea what the hell they're talking about, and at the moment, he doesn't care. he keeps that pressure at her clit, breaking the momentum only to dip that fingertip lower, pressing only half an inch or so inside of her through the thin layer of her panties, before it slides back. he's practiced enough to know that steadiness and consistency wins the race he's currently bargaining for, rolling his touch right over that bundle of nerves. )
no subject
It takes a lot of effort to focus, to listen and continue the conversation without missing a beat. But, she can feel him reacting to her touch -- glad she's not the only one getting worked up.
Sam responds and she catches the first bit. At least until Dean's finger dips lower and her brain sort of short circuits as he presses into her, her own hand stilling at the waistband of his briefs. She can't stop herself from licking her lips, capturing her lower one in a feigned appearance of thought -- grateful for often worrying her lower lip when brainstorming so it doesn't stand out. Her legs fall open, fighting the urge to make a noise when Dean's hand moves again, Sam catching her attention with her name. She clears her throat, adjusting as she continues her earlier trajectory and slips her hand into the waistband of his briefs.
Sam was asking her something, but she's been far away from this conversation for the last bit. Mention of possibly trying to summon a lesser God to get some intel -- an idea Julia wouldn't be opposed to if that's actually what he'd said. But, she doesn't want to guess... So, she does what she does best in these types of situations. She redirects, trying to shift Sam's attention away from herself by brushing her hair out of her face with her unoccupied hand and looking at Dean. She speaks as she slowly slides her fingers around him until she has him in a firm grip. ]
You know, I'd love to hear Dean's take on it. [ She cants her head to the side slightly, a smirk finding her lips as she watches him. Julia makes a point to mimic the swirling motions she's done with her tongue when she reaches the tip again -- covering her movements as she shifts again in the seat. This was her attempt to even the playing field and drag him back in, at least for a minute. Get rid of the unfair advantage he had of being able to totally slack off during research discussions. ]
Wouldn't want you to feel left out of the conversation.
no subject
it wouldn't of been the first time sammy had to see himself out for one of dean's romps, but at the present, the only slack he can cut him is the fact that sam actually doesn't know about their indulgences. how he'd taken her in the back of baby, had her up against the bricks at a bar they'd stopped in a few months back after a particularly nasty hunt.
she redirects all attention to him and she's winding him up enough with her touch alone that he's getting to a tipping point, one that'd probably wind up pretty awkward for her if they kept it up at this rate. there's an audible growl when she curls her wrist when it nears the tip, length swelling all too readily in her hand, enough to rigidly stand upright if she were to let it go. his brother eyes him, and he pinches at the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut, doing his best to mask it as no more than exhaustion. to help his position, he can't remember the last time he'd gotten more than four hours of sleep.
he attempts to steel himself, cupping against her pussy, using the heel of his hand to grind against her. but his movements are sloppy, often interrupted, tongue prodding at the inner of his cheek. )
Y'know, I'm not sure I'm in the right frame of mind to be deciding whether or not we should bring in God's penpals. ( thankfully the laptop before him covers her forearm from sammy's line of sight, the way his hips give a little rut, dragging palm over his features before he's grabbing for his beer to finish it off. )
How bout we call it a night, huh? If you two nerds want to keep at the rosetta stone—ah, be my guest.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
C'mon, Sam. The bastards can wait a night. ( it only earns a dry huff of a laugh, a tilt at the edge of his brothers lips. he's able to quickly do up his jeans again, having to tuck his length open so the bulge wouldn't be so obvious when he finally stood, grabbing for the neck of his beer bottle. he'd noted the way she'd turned when she'd met the hall, already debating which room he wanted to tug her into, or if he'd rather just press her chest to the cold of the wall and fuck her against it, hand clamped over her mouth.
it's when this kind of energy, hot and demanding, courses through him that part of his psyche is tugged back to when he'd had the mark, tossing bottle in the trash at the edge of the library. and that's where he leaves sam, still studious and quiet, putting up a new challenge on the horizon: keeping her quiet enough that his brother wouldn't hear. he looms knowingly down the corridor, and when he spots her lithe frame his cock gives a twitch in anticipation, chest a fury of heat.
he waits until he's just a step away to grab at her hip, jarring her back against the wall with a lack of delicacy. free hand goes right back to that heat between her thighs, ripping open the button and zipper, clear that he wasn't quite in the mood for any more foreplay. he growls, capturing her mouth in a messy kiss, free hand running up the nape of her neck to make a fistful of her hair. a break, lips fumbling against hers. )
Don't like to behave, huh?
no subject
She can hear the deep timber of their voices, knowing if she hadn't been jacking off Dean under the table, she'd still be in there with him. Pouring over the books older than what's available on the internet and scrambling for an answer -- a way to possibly save Dean before he either gets dragged back in or killed. But, too many near death experiences have taught her that staying up too late with research only hurts everyone in the long run. That relaxation and sleep could make just about anything easier to process. It was strange how being in an almost perpetual state of crisis can make just about anything seem tame. Death knights coming back? Easy. Hell, after moving the literal moon and dealing with her being angry paired with moon sickness from staying up for 3 days? Cake walk.
It made letting her guard down enough to play whatever game she was attempting with Dean easier. He all but stalks towards her and her body tightens in anticipation -- ready for him to be aggressive after the demonstration earlier. And he doesn't dissapoint. The button all but pops off of her jeans when he tears them open, barely swallowing a moan as she grips onto his shirt. In the shadows of the hallway, she doesn't hold back, melting into the kiss as she tears open his pants. Julia lets him call the shots for now, a balance of give and take -- it was just her turn to take in the hallway. Long brown curls tangle around his hair, having worn it down specifically for him. Along with the easy access tanktop and the thin underwear and quick to shove aside push up bra. Whether he uses her hair to pull her to the right spot to fuck her or drag her to her knees, she has no interest in stopping him. She didn't mind it getting rough when it was on her own terms, knowing a single word would get Dean to back off. But she'd worked him up for a reason tonight, to blow off steam in a way conversations with his brother never could.
She catches his lower lip in her teeth, giving it a light pull as she frees him of his briefs. ]
Never learned how. [ Her fingers wrap around him, grip firm and confident as she smirks against his lips -- already having to concentrate a bit too much on whispering. ] What're you gonna do about it?