Author's Note: I do NOT own TMI [books or movie] nor Supernatural; they belong to their respectful owners. This was purely made for entertainment, non-profit purposes. Enjoy. :)
Another day, another hunt, another encounter. After salting and burning the bones, Sam and Dean had gotten inside the Impala and drove off to the shitty motel they currently resided in. "Ugh, I can't wait to wash the dirt off," Sam complained as he dusted off his coat, and Dean instantly chimed in. "Hey, hey, take it easy on Baby! Roll down the window or somethin', don't fill her with your dirt!" he said, and Sam rolled his eyes at him. The rest of the ride consisted of small talk, plans for the next hunt, and for a meeting with the shadowhunters some time soon. "Hey, if it's such a huge problem, then I'm in," Dean had argued, while Sam had just shaken his head in disbelief. "They're nephilims...," he mumbled, unable to comprehend how they couldn't deal with the task at hand. But then again every creature had its limits, so he kind of understood. When they reached the motel and Dean turned the engine off, his phone rang and he quickly took it out, looking at the unknown number on the screen. Frowning, he cautiously pressed the green button and lifted the phone to his ear, looking at his brother. "Hello?" he said. "Finally! Dean, it's me, Isabelle," a female voice sounded on the other line, almost punching the air out of his lungs. Concentrate, dammit, he thought as he mentally slapped himself back to reality. "Oh, hey... Wait, did you change your number or something?" Dean asked as he motioned for Sam to get out of the car, that everything was fine. Sam just nodded his head and they got out, Dean locked the car and they headed inside their room. "No, this is.. Jace's phone. Sorry, mine's not working right now," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice, which made him smile in turn. It's been, what, weeks? Nearly a month since they've last seen each other, and it was slowly eating away at him. "So, any progress?" Dean asked as he pocketed the car keys in his jacket and watched Sam take a towel and rush over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. "Yeah, we got her, she was here for a while, but we underestimated her powers," she said, sighing.
Dean lifted his brows and tilted his head to the side. "Come on, you can't be serious. She escaped?" he asked, not believing what he was hearing. He could almost feel the female shadowhunter's eyeroll right now. "Yes, Genius, she did. Could've warned us she was such a sly fox," Isabelle said, placing a hand on her hip as her dark eyes scanned the huge library until they settled on Alec and Magnus talking about something at the far end of the room. "We're gonna need you guys here as soon as possible. Where are you right now?" she asked, moving away from the desk, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she made her way out of the library and towards the elevator. Dean winced at the loud echo they created from the other line, a small smile playing on his lips. "Over in West Virgina, in a small shithole town," he explained, sitting down on his bed just as he heard the water from the bathroom start, followed by Sam's low curses, indicating that he had miscalculated and either ice cold or burning hot, but either way it was funny and Dean couldn't help but snort a laugh at this. "What's so funny?" Isabelle asked, clearly irritated. Dean shook his head and sighed. "Nothing, Iz. Just Sam being Sam," he said and then ran his fingers through his hair. "Alright, we'll come, but it'll take a long time to get there," he said, warning her about it. Isabelle was silent for a moment before he heard her heels click rapidly against the marble floor, which meant that she was most likely running like crazy in some direction. "I've got an idea!" she chirped, a grin on her face.
"Come on, chop chop," Magnus waved his hand at the two men who were squinting and covering their eyes from the light that came out of the portal he had created. "I haven't got all day, darlings, so please be quick," he then added rather impatiently, rubbing his temples while Dean argued about taking the car as well. "Dean, come on, stop wasting the warlock's time!" Sam finally snapped, glaring at his brother. Dean rolled his eyes and picked up his duffel bag, following his brother to the portal, but before he walked through it he eyed Magnus and pointed a finger at him. "I ain't leaving Baby here for long, so you better find a way to bring her," he said, and Magnus just eyed him with his golden cat eyes for a moment, before grabbing his index fingers with his own two fingers and slowly pushing it away from him. "Sure thing, handsome, but if you don't cross now I'll have to deal with your upper half crawling around the Institute's rather neat floor," he said as if he hadn't heard the Winchesters' words, and soon after that followed them both through it.
At the other side were Jace, Alec and Isabelle, waiting patiently for the Winchesters to arrive. "Do we really need their help?" Jace asked, arms crossed over his chest as he looked over at his two siblings. Isabelle eyed him with an arched brow and shrugged her shoulders. "They know her, they've dealt with her before, and it surprises me to say that they have shiftier methods than ours of catching creatures like her," she said. Alec, on the other hand, just shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "The more the merrier," he mumbled, and seconds after that the portal opened up in front of them, a tall, dark figure graciously strolling out of it, followed by two other figures behind it, one tall and the other shorter, with bowed legs; both carried duffel bags. "Welcome to our humble home," Magnus announced as the portal closed behind the two brothers, and they instantly winced at the loud noises coming from the noisy New York street. "Man, I hate big cities," Dean grunted before he finally set eyes on the three nephilims in front of him. Alec's blue eyes lit up with joy when he set eyes on the warlock and, after greeting the Winchesters, he rushed over to the warlock and wrapped his arms around his neck, bringing him down for a kiss. Magnus purred into it, pressing the nephilim's body closer to him, returning the kiss, then teasingly pulled away and nipped the shadowhunter's lower lip.
"Come on, honey, we have visitors," he said distractedly, looking at Jace, who just smiled and shook his head at them. "You guys are disgustingly in love," he teased them, and Alec just shot his parabatai a death glare before moving away from the warlock. Sam approached Jace, shook his hand and smiled at him, then turned to Isabelle and did the same, Dean close behind. But when he grabbed Isabelle's hand, the female nephilim tightened her grip and pulled him closer to herself, pressing their lips together, her body even more flush against his that Dean thought it was impossible to achieve such closeness. "Alright, we're in a kissing mood today, aren't we?" Jace asked with a rather annoyed expression after they both parted and looked at him. "Does that mean that a kiss between me and Moose here is in order now?" he asked, tilting his head to the youngest Winchester. Sam widened his eyes and looked at him. "I think I'll pass, thanks," he said and Jace eyed him for a moment before nodding in agreement. Isabelle chuckled, grabbed Dean by the hand and waved for everyone to follow her inside the Institute. Jace and Sam rolled their eyes and walked after them, with Alec and Magnus close behind. The warlock leant towards the black-haired shadowhunter's ear and smirked. "I have a surprise for you if you can wait until tonight," he whispered, seeing and feeling the blush creep up Alec's neck and cover his cheeks as he quickly looked away and scratched his head. "I.. Uh... Yeah..," the nephilim stuttered, leaving Magnus pleased with his work.
* * *
Three days after they had captured the woman in question, - who happened to be a high-ranked demon terrorizing the humans, as always, - Dean was in the guest room he and his brother were given, shoving his clothes in the duffel bag. Right now Sam was downstairs with Jace, Alec and probably Magnus, talking about this and that, with his little brother most likely showing off his vast knowledge of everything and possibly everyone. Walking Encyclopedia of Weirdness, I say, he thought, smiling at the thought and shaking his head. Soon after that the sound of heels clicking against the marble floor reached his ears, getting closer and closer to his room, and this could only be one person; after all, he could recognize that walking rhythm anywhere, the sound of the heels against every type of floor, always and anywhere. And when he turned around, his thoughts were confirmed. "Isabelle," he smiled, but internally cursed himself for the way his voice sounded as if he was out of breath. Isabelle smiled back at him and approached him slowly, looking at the duffel on the bed, her smile instantly fading. "So you're leaving, huh?" she asked, looking away. Dean suddenly felt as if he'd been run over by a truck - repeatedly, mind you, - and he just wanted to hold the shadowhunter close to him and promise her he'd always be with her; but that wasn't going to be always true, because he and his brother would have to embark on other hunts, meet other hunters and new creatures, and most likely re-open and close the Gates of Hell again. But it was their job, right? Saving people, hunting things, the family business. Sighing, Dean nodded his head. "Yeah... Sam said there's been a poltergeist terrorizing an entire town over at Nebraska," he said, looking down at his hands for a moment. When he looked up at Isabelle again, he saw that she was having an internal struggle with herself for a moment before he felt her hands on either side of his face, pulling him towards her to crash their lips together. Then her upper body followed, colliding with his chest, then their hips pressed together, and Dean lifted his brows in a short-lasting surprise before he moved his hands towards her waist. Isabelle pressed deeper into the kiss, then parted her lips and teasingly ran her tongue over his lips before feeling his hands gently rest on her hips. Not so fast, pretty boy, she thought as she grabbed his wrists, surprised that she wasn't met by resistance from his part. Deciding to continue, she moved his hands away and, while still kissing - with their tongues now battling for dominance - she moved her hands up to his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, then slid id down his arms, and she felt him help her a bit by moving his own arms and pulling them out of the sleeves. After the jacket dropped to the ground, Isabelle moved her hands back up to Dean's chest, but this time she grabbed him, turned him around and pushed him onto the bed.
Dean's eyes shot open, the breath was knocked out of his lungs, and he stared in awe at the female shadowhunter as she approached and straddled him, running her hands up and under his black T-shirt slowly, teasingly, and Dean found himself gasping for air when she slightly moved her hips against his crotch, but then again he was aware that she was just teasing him, because in the next moment her lips were ghosting over his. "You're not going anywhere... Until I'm done with you," she whispered, smirking, and Dean was lost in her dark eyes for a moment. But then his cocky side kicked in and he smirked back at her. "Oh, really? Give me what you got, beautiful," he whispered back running his hands down her back and stopping just at the waistline of her black pants. Isabelle bit back a gasp, but couldn't help the way her hips rocked back into the oldest Winchester's touch before she could stop herself, and Dean's low, breathy moan pushed her on. I love you... Dammit, Dean, I love you! she thought, but could never say those words aloud, fearing that she'd get too attached and then have her heart broken. Never trust men, Isabelle. I don't want you to go through what I did, her mother's voice echoed inside her head, but she instantly banished the memory by roughly pressing her lips against the hunter's. For a few moments their actions consisted of hands roaming over each other's bodies, bodies pressing flushly against each other, tongues swirling together and battling for dominance, before Dean gripped Isabelle tightly and, before even the shadowhunter could react, she found herself laying below the man, with him now between her legs. She studied him, and she would be lying herself if she didn't think that Dean looked irresistibly hot right now - emerald eyes dark with lust, full lips slightly parted and swollen from the rough kisses, his spiky hair now a bit messy, and his chest rising and falling with each breath.
And Dean would also be lying if he thought that Isabelle didn't look stunning - her hair pooled around her like black flames, dark eyes looking back up at her, her pale red lips, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took, and just her presence enough to drive him wild with desire for her. Isabelle grabbed the edges of his shirt and tugged on it, and Dean understood what she wanted, for within a few seconds he had taken it off and discarded it on the floor, claiming her lips with his own. Isabelle arched her hips off the bed, wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her, making Dean grunt in surprise, propping himself up on his elbows so that he wouldn't crush her with his weight; though he knew she was a strong woman, he couldn't risk it. When he moved away from her lips and started trailing kisses down her jawline and neck, Isabelle moaned loudly and ran her fingers through his short, dirty blonde hair, repeating his name like a prayer. "Dean... By the Angel... Oh, yes..," she gasped between moans and groans, diggind her fingers in his scalp, feeling him trail wet kisses down her collarbone and near her breasts, but he didn't even get to the edge of them, which surprised her; if it was anyone else they would already be trying to take her shirt off, but would always end up with a broken nose, a killer knee to the jewels and a snake whip across their entire backs that wouldn't let them walk right for two weeks straight, or even more, depending on how pissed off Isabelle was at that moment. But now? This? It was amazing. For all of Dean's cocky remarks, sarcasm and bad boy appearance, he was a really gentle and caring lover in bed, even though she herself wasn't sure if she was really ready for this. Dean trailed his lips up to her right shoulder, then slowly kissed up to her neck, then her jaw and, finally, sucked on the skin behind her ear. Isabelle literally mewled at this, and was surprised at the sound she had just made, but the Winchester didn't seem to mind at all, as he kept kissing and teasing her. His hands were on her hips, and she could feel that he was, most likely, subconsciously tugging at the edges of her tank top. Smiling and moaning again when he started kissing up her jawline, she grabbed his wrists and guided his hands under the thin fabric, startling the man and making him freeze and look her in the eyes. "Are you... sure?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Isabelle arched a brow and tilted her head to the side. "Touch me... Please," she whispered, realizing that she had just practically begged him to do it, but recently she had been feeling... Touch-deprived? Was that even a real word? Eh, whatever.
After a moment's hesitation, Dean finally gave in and followed her guidance under her top until she released his hands and wrapped her own around his neck again. Dean slowly moved his hands up under her tank top, the skin smooth under his fingers. When he touched her bra with the tips of his fingers, he stopped and instead moved his hands back down again, while he still kissed and licked the female shadowhunter's neck, throat, jawline and collarbone, enjoying the sweet sounds she made. He knew that they could either stop soon or lead this to a whole new level, but Dean would never force her into it if she were to refuse now. He didn't even push her, just let her slowly and gently place her hands on his face and guide him up to her so that their eyes met again. "I.. Dean, I... Um...," Isabelle stuttered, unsure what to say. Out of all the people, I, Isabelle Lightwood, am stuttering?! HOW?! she thought, but her face remained calm, not betraying those thoughts. Dean observed her in silence, understanding her inner struggle, even though he had no idea where hers came from. "It's okay, Iz. Let's just get some rest, okay?" he asked in a gentle tone, and saw color rise to her cheeks, but she acted as if she hadn't even felt it. A few seconds later she nodded her head and Dean moved over to lie down beside her, kicked his boots off the edge of the bed and pulled the blankets over both of them. Isabelle had her back against his chest, one arm draped over her waist, his hand over hers. She was basically the small spoon here, but being so in the arms of someone you knew you could fully trust was something even better. Smiling slightly, she closed her eyes, and was soon consumed by the land of dreams.
The End
R&R, also constructive criticism is also very welcome. :D