#herondale fanfiction

[saintgoths]

☾༺♰༻☽ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni very 18+ - just nasty sex.

includes simon 'ghost' riley, joel miller, levi ackerman, carlos oliveira and will herondale.

feedback/comments would be appreciated :)

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Like the man he is, he would fuck you in a position that asserts his dominance, a possessive grip that puts you in a firm stance telling you that you’re his and no one can fuck you the way he does, with his hand gripped tightly around your hair while he plows into you, forcing you to roll your eyes towards the back of your skull. “Take it,” he grunts and loud you shamefully moaned, “you pretty girl, all ruined and tight for me,” he moaned.

Proud he feels the way your body trembles under his touch, the width of his cock opening your pretty little cunt while the increased wetness inflates around his shaft. “Atta girl,” he groans as the tip of his cock licks against the skin of your cervix, pushing you into an intense high while your knees steeply dig into the sheets of the bed.

Your moans pathetic as you could feel your body weaken as another strong wave of orgasm pushes through you, your nectar spilling all over his bed and cock as you release a loud cry of pleasure as the thick and hot spews of his lewd semen coat your walls, your sensations ecstatic as he finally lets go of your figure and watches it shamelessly pummel against the bed.

“Y’did so well babydoll,” he muttered ere he dragged himself off the bed.

POSITION REFERENCE

JOEL MILLER

He’s so possessive with the way he fucks his girthy cock into you, beastly you feel the arch of his shaft pull forward inside your tight cunt, his loud, prideful of the erotic noises that purrs out of his mouth, while the tightness of your pussy clenches around him swallowing his large size as he loses himself inside of you.

His arms possessive around your body while the balls of his cock wetly slaps against your ass. “You’re such a good girl,” he drooled and in response you release a shameful whimper answering with degrading and shameful words declaring how you’re all his.

“Daddy, daddy!” You wept, over-stimulated by the brute forces of his large shaft beating and possessively marking the balmy and tepid of your cunt.

“There, there,” he whispered, “so good, such a good girl,” he moaned and the second he felt the thermal wetness of his load fill the tight size of your cunt the softness of his lips pressed against your neck leaving a sweet mark of his love.

POSITION REFERENCE

LEVI ACKERMAN

He loves the way his hand perfectly wraps around your breast as you hungrily bounce on his cock, your back pressed against his chest while the juices of your pussy squelches around his shaft, your cunt compact while the veins of his long manhood stroked the walls of your heat.

You bite your lip while the pad of his fingers twirl around your nipples, your breast plump and delicate, fondled by the adept hands of Levi Ackerman, who had been drunk with eroticism, his eyes dark with stimulation with the face of his cock that pummelled against the soft knob of your cunt, you throw your head back, your mouth drooling with piquancy as you had now been capable to speak.

“C-captain!” You moaned, your cries shameless while the arc of his cock hungrily blow and stroke the soft areas of your pussy, he had been focused, with his member that had softly shook in your tight space, one hand above your pearl that had gently whirled, possessive and hoggish with the way your body rolled against his.

“Just like that,” he whispered, “keep going!” He moaned and in obedience you continued to bounce up and down his length, your eyes wet with desirous tears as your body heaved forwards, numb and intoxicated by the member that had filled your heat paired with the sticky cum that had greedily clung onto your walls, feeling the depth of loneliness the second he pulled his cock out, but now his lip had been pressed against your jaw, tender and supple.

POSITION REFERENCE

CARLOS OLIVERIA

With his big and strong arms, he holds you up while fucking his wide cock up your cunt, his shaft easily slipping and sliding and the tip of his member greedily licking the soft lumps of your pussy while you tightly wrap your arms around his shoulders, securing yourself against him while his fingers grip into your skin, “That’s it princess,” he murmurs into your ear while frantically bucking his hips forward searching and sailing for his climax while your sweet cries fill the room.

Your lips tight and eyes white while the head of his shaft lick the coat of your cervix, eager to spill and fill its juices and give into the animalistic nature to breed. “So good for daddy,” he moaned and desperately you nodded your head, and in bold need for his authoritative approval you obeyed every demand that left his tongue, “Say it, say your my princess,” he commanded and frantic you felt your tongue slip out of your mouth as you hopelessly tried to gather the words he imposed from you.

“I’m—” you cried out and before you could finish your sentence a strong shriek was pulled out from your mouth as you could feel his shaft move deeper inside of you, sending you into a bold crying hysteria, how shameless you looked, disoriented and a mess due to his touch. “I’m your princess!” You chanted while you could feel your orgasm explode and spill against the cold floors of your room; and sapped you had fully leaned against Carlos, your arms still hung around him, wasted.

“You feel that?” Carlos hummed as he slowly pulsed in you and weakly you nodded as you had recognised the soft sensation of his fluid filling your wet cunt. “Good girl,” he then kissed your cheek before he rested you against the bed.

POSITION REFERENCE

WILL HERONDALE

He holds onto you so fucking tight, craving and selfish with the way his fingers dig into your skin, so snug, he thought, so supple your cunt had felt around him, how well you had taken his size and how you were just for him, only his, restricted to be shared, he had hated the idea of you being somebody else’s, glad, that the pliable and wetness of your vagina was his to claim and he swore that nothing would take you away from him.

“My love,” he moaned, his hand cupped beneath your knees as your body had bounced against his, your walls had clenched around him, taut and firm and so soothing and narcotic like he was some ill-man, and the feeling of your opiate cunt being the only thing that could cure him, he loved it, and could care less that he moved like a starved man.

Beastly while the nectar from the previous orgasms had melted and thawed with each other and the cloying cries of your over-stimulated moans had been a glacé music to him, he could feel another round of his orgasm build up and with the way you had whimpered to his touch, and with the way your body had twitched under his grope, another ecstatic rush wanted to overcome your petite figure.

“Fuck!” You loudly cried out feeling the face of his cock slickly brush and speck against your spot and once more, your eyes rolled backwards uncaring if anyone in the institute could hear your lewd cries, prideful that you had been ravished by Will Herondale, having his shaft stroke and tinge every good nerve in your pussy while he whispered sweet and amorous words in your ears, talking you into another amative and carnal climax.

POSITION REFERENCE

♆

[starrieshq]

You Are In Love [Kitty & Jemma]

just our favorite Blackthorns ranting about their partners :)

Enjoy!!!

“Hey, Jules?”

Julian turned around to face Ty, headphones around his neck, fidgeting with the cord.

“What’s up, Ty?”

He sat down next to him, gray eyes flickering between meeting Julian’s gaze and his unresting hands.

“I just had a question for you.” He said.

Julian nodded, straightening. Ty didn’t love to ask questions, and preferred to figure out the answer for himself. “Alright.”

“How did you know that you were in love with Emma?”

The question took Julian aback. How did he know what love was? What was Ty going on about?

“Why do you ask?” He responded, keeping his voice steady and reassuring.

Ty wrapped the headphone cord around his finger, winding and unwinding it over and over. “Because I don’t know what to label emotions as. I keep feeling…things, but I don’t know what it is.”

Julian nodded, understanding. “I didn’t know that I was in love with Emma straight away. Actually, it took several years for me to realize.” He did a once over of Ty, who’s face looked as expressionless as ever. “But eventually, I started to see signs.” He faintly smiled, recalling old memories. “I always wanted to be with her, to the point where we would eat all our meals together, train together, we’d even sleep in the same bed.” He glanced at Ty, who looked deep in thought.

“She took my breath away. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like my heart had stopped. I adored her laugh, her smile, her carefree and slightly reckless personality that made her Emma, that made her the girl that I’d fallen in love with.” He remembered the days when they were a secret, forbidden from their love. “Eventually, she was all I ever thought of. She consumed my mind. I painted her.” Julian wasn’t even sure if this made sense to Ty, if his rambling about Emma and his blatant adoration of her would tell him anything about love. “I painted her hundreds of times, but every time I did, it was never enough. The shades I used for her hair weren't exactly right, or I couldn’t catch the exact tan she had gained from the Sun.”

Julian looked back at Ty. “That’s what love is to me.”

Ty sat quietly, contemplating.

“Does it hurt?”

After a moment, Julian nodded.

“More than anything.”

Ty absentmindedly stared off, deep in thought.

“Are you in love, Ty?”

Ty’s gaze focused back on Julian.

“I have been.” He said, voice steady. “I’ve been in love and I haven’t known it.”

Julian sat back.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well,” Ty started. “He’s beautiful. His eyes look like the sky on a sunny day, and his hair is the fluffiest that I’ve ever seen.” There was a small smile dancing on his lips. “He’s barely shorter than me, maybe one or two inches. He wears the same jacket all the time, but he always looks breathtaking.” Ty’s face was flushed, recalling his memories with this love. “He’s sharp and witty, but he’s never like that to me. He understands me.” Ty dug his fingers into the denim of his jeans. “He’s kind and funny, and he makes me laugh. And I can’t stop thinking about him.” He admitted. “I haven’t been able to for the past three years.”

Julian, knowing full well who Ty was referring to, gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “I used to see you two together all the time. You two complimented each other so well, it’s hard to explain. He brought out something in you, something that I’d never seen before. It was true joy.” Julian swallowed. “But even further, you brought out something in him, Ty.”

Ty looked at him, bewildered and almost astonished at what Julian was saying.

“He was angry, and scared, and bitter at the world.” Julian said. “You showed him that the world is what you make it.”

“But he’s angry at me.” Ty said fretfully. “We haven’t spoken in forever.”

“Forever is an awful long time.” Julian responded. “I hope it truly isn’t forever.”

[kate-read-that]

Fanfic idea I'll never do anything with: once this next set of books are over, Drusilla, Ash, Kit and Ty form a four-men team of elite Shadowhunters that travel around the world helping institutes deal with demonic problems too big or complex for them. Ash and kit are parabatai, and have all the special fighting abilities given by their respective lineages. Dru and ty help balance the team, being also lethal but a lot more used to institutes and people. Ash and Dru are the new Morticia and Gomez minus the goth and Ty and Kit are finally on the same fucking page too.

A few years down the line, when Rafael Lightwood-Bane becomes 18 and he's entitled to a year in a different institute to complete his formation, he doesn't omwsnt to go any institute because he's scared everyone's going to baby him for being the Consul's son, so he chooses the only people he knows won't baby anyone no matter what.

There are a few near-death experiences and probably a 3-book worth adventure with the now 5-men team, and by the end of it they're so famous, Shadowhunters parents fight each other to get their children to spend their last year with the Fantastic 4 (terrible name but you get the gist).

Kit is horrified by the approval and the attention, Ash and Ty are just super uncomfortable with the whole niceness and acceptance of everyone and Dru is ecstatic that she'll get to make the parents go through a million tests for fun.

[chrasilla]

angst prompts

"They won't wait for you forever. So you need to decide if all your resentment and pride is worth losing them for good."

"You're everything to me, but clearly I was just a short phase in your life."

"I just want you to be happy." "The only way you can make me happy is by staying far away from me."

"I miss you, but I miss me more."

"You from the beginning we had an expiry date."

"You shouldn't be with me. " "I know. Yet here I am."

"I must have loved you in another life." "But not in this one?"

"You could stay, for me." "That's not enough for me to stay."

"I always thought I'd be someone's first choice, but I'm not even in your top five, am I?"

"I love you, but I barely know you. I don't think you even know yourself."

[moony401]

Is anyone else upset about how little Herondaisy there is in Chain of Thorns? Like I know I’m insane but I wanted at least some of these things;

Cordelia to make a sacrifice that led into James bringing her back, linking into why the Carstairs owe the Herondales

The Layla and Majnun story and for James to read to Cordelia when she was wounded after doing something brave.

James to call Cordelia ‘Layla’. (Even “Daisy, my Daisy” didn’t feature…)

The line “I suffered every thorn for you I would again”.

Chess games where they revealed things to each other?

Second marriage runes.

For the Belial confrontation to be more Herondaisy focused.

A proper love confession. Like Will had his whole Tale of Two Cities “Last dream of my soul” speech, I was convinced James would have a “to the last hour of my life” love declaration.

Anyways….

[illstuckwithclace]

i need happy KitTy headcanon or Clace fanfiction.

Of course I haven't found nothing.

[somerandomsilentbrother]

Random idea

Shadowhunters ff set in 1982 where Magnus keeps sleeping at Ragnor's house,but he arrives only when Ragor fells aspleep,leaving him some food/drinks that he can eat the day after.

One morning,Ragnor doesn't see Magnus or the usual food that the warlock brings at his house,and he starts thinking that something went wrong,and shit,he is right.

[rottenroyalebooks]

I want to do an SMAU, but who should I do it for?

Might be a series, might be a one and done.

[jamessxcarstairs]

Title: The Jade Fist

Word Count: 1,914

Rating: G

Summary: "He poked his head around the corner, and saw Jem sitting on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees. It had been about two months since James Carstairs arrived at the Institute from Shanghai, and it was an odd adjustment. Not only was there now another Shadowhunter boy his own age in the Institute to train with, Will had actually taken a liking to him. And he’s pretty sure Jem feels the same way, which didn’t exactly bode well with Will’s plan to make sure no one ever liked him."

Will believes he may have found a new friendship in Jem. When he finds Jem upset over missing his family and his home, he discovers something that can make Jem less homesick.

Part 1 of If Aught but Death Part Thee and Me

Read it on Ao3

London. February, 1874.

Will was sitting up in his bed, nose deep in reading Dickens’ Oliver Twist . Ever since his arrival at the Institute three months ago, he had been throwing himself into reading any book he could get his hands on as a distraction. While it helped in some ways, in other ways it didn’t: it would help him in that moment, but the second he was called down for supper or for his tutoring he was reminded again.

Reminded of why he had to leave.

He still remembered the look in the demon’s eyes, the way Ella’s body looked after- No . He wasn’t going to think about that. He went back to his book and tried to lose himself in the story. He was swiftly pulled back to the present by a muffled noise outside his door. He didn’t know who was out there, but he really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.

“Whoever's out there, you may as well just leave! I’m busy!” He shouted with as much venom as he could. Yet, the noise continued. Will, now irritated, got off of his bed in a huff and swung open the door. “I said …” and there was no one out there. He listened closer, and realized it was the sound of muffled sobs he had been hearing; it was coming from the main corridor.

Will shut the door to his room as softly as he could, and he walked down the hall towards the corridor. He poked his head around the corner, and saw Jem sitting on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees. It had been about two months since James Carstairs arrived at the Institute from Shanghai, and it was an odd adjustment. Not only was there now another Shadowhunter boy his own age in the Institute to train with, Will had actually taken a liking to him. And he’s pretty sure Jem feels the same way, which didn’t exactly bode well with Will’s plan to make sure no one ever liked him.

“James? A- Are you alright?” Will asked, a bit awkwardly. It had frightened Will how quickly being nasty and cruel towards people had become his gut response while speaking to people after only three months of living at the Institute. Though he supposed that if one forced themself to behave a certain way, it became second nature after a while. But Jem? Jem was different. He was already dying, so Will’s curse wouldn’t affect him, right?

“Will!” Jem exclaimed, clearly not expecting to see Will hovering over him like a lunatic. He stood up carefully, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t think anyone was down here.”

Will shrugged. “My room is down that way. I was just reading. Are you alright?” he asked again.

Jem looked down at his shoes, and shook his head a bit. “Just feeling a little homesick, that’s all,” he said, his voice small. Will took note of Jem’s hair in the glow of the witchlight lamps. He could’ve sworn there were more silver strands than when he saw Jem this morning, but it was probably just a trick of the light.

“Oh,” Will replied. Why am I so bad at this ? He thought to himself. “Is… there anything I can do to help?"

Jem smiled slightly, and nodded. “D’you want to take a walk with me back to my room? I could use the company.” Wordlessly, Will followed Jem down the corridor and they walked together in silence for a few moments.

“So, what were your parents like?” Will asked finally, trying to break the silence. Though he regretted it almost instantly when he noticed Jem flinch. “Nevermind, you don’t have to tell me anything. I don’t even know why I asked that,” he said, silently cursing himself.

“No, no, it’s alright. I don’t mind telling you. They were pretty amazing people.” Jem took a deep breath, and then continued. “My father, Jonah, is from London. And my mother, Wen Yu, is from Beijing. They met when they were teenagers while my mother was in London on her travel year. I inherited my mother’s features, though I’ve been told I have my father’s face. When I was very small, I barely remember the time before, my parents were assigned to run the Shanghai Institute, and-”

Jem stopped speaking suddenly, and Will glanced over to see that Jem’s eyes were starting to fill with tears. He started to panic.

“No, wait, don’t cry!” Will put his hand on the other boy’s shoulder, hoping to reassure him, but then pulled away as he tried to come up with something to cheer him up. “Jem, have you ever heard of… demon pox?”

Jem looked up at him at that, cracking a slight smile. “What?”

“By the Angel, you’ve never heard of demon pox?” Will said with mock concern. “It’s a horrid thing, really. What a way to die.”

“I don’t think demon pox exists, Will.”

“But it does! Why, they only way one can get it is by going down to deepest, dampest part of town, and f-”

“William? James?” A voice interrupted Will’s rant. Around the corner came Charlotte, holding a witchlight stone. “Oh! I thought I heard your voices. What are you boys doing down here?”

“I was just telling Jem here all about demon pox. Wild stuff,” Will said. He heard Jem stifle a laugh.

Charlotte sighed. “Will, I told you to stop speaking such nonsense. Anyway, Jem, it’s you I was looking for.”

“Me?” Jem asked.

“Yes, James. Henry has something he’d like to show you. He’s waiting in the drawing room,” Charlotte said gently.

Jem nodded, and said “thank you, Charlotte,” and went to go follow her. Then, he turned around to look at Will. “Why don’t you come along, Will?”

Will, shocked by Jem’s gesture, didn’t know what to say. “I dunno, Henry isn’t quite used to my charming wit yet. I wouldn’t want him to blow a gasket on my account.”

“ Will …” Charlotte scolded.

“I insist. Please come,” Jem said, gesturing down the corridor with his arm.

Will hesitated a moment, but then nodded and said “alright,” and started after them.

“Jem, thank you for coming! Oh, and Will. Thank you for coming, too!” Henry said.

Will entered the drawing room with Jem and Charlotte, and he saw Henry sitting on one of the massive sofas holding something wrapped in parchment.

“What’ve you got there, Henry? Dear God, please don’t tell me it’s another invention…” Will exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“Well, yes, I suppose it is,” Henry said, thinking about it for a moment. “Jem, I have something for you. I tried to do research on what kind of weapons might’ve been popular at the Shanghai Institute, and I came to the conclusion that long swords were quite popular! So, the best part is that not only can this be used as a weapon, it also has a practical, everyday use as well.” Will caught Charlotte’s glance at Henry, and she looked incredibly proud.

Jem took the item from Henry, and started to unwrap the parchment. Will watched in silence as Jem lifted the item from the parchment, and saw his eyes widen in surprise. It was a walking stick with a jade dragon-headed top.

“It’s a sword that doubles as a walking stick!” Henry said. “Isn’t it exquisite? The sword pops out when you press that switch there, and I thought the walking stick could give you support on the days when you’re feeling ill. I even included some jade in the embellishments, since I learned that it can be found in the river near where you grew up.”

“This is incredible, Henry! Thank you,” Jem said, a huge smile on his face. It was the type of smile that lit up your whole face, Will thought. It was the first time Will had seen Jem truly smile since arriving at the Institute. Will the knew what he could do to cheer Jem up.

That night, Will traveled down to Whitechapel to peruse the night market there, which was run by Downworlders and Sighted mundanes. He walked along until he came to a booth that was run by a warlock woman with bright, blue hair, and was covered head-to-toe in jewels.

“What brings you to my booth, little Shadowhunter?” The woman asked curiously.

“I’m looking for something to give to my friend. D’you have anything made from jade?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve got only the finest jade imported all the way from Shanghai,” the woman said, pulling out a large, wooden box, and revealing hundreds of jade pieces in various shapes and sizes. The one that caught his eye was small and round, and if you looked carefully you could see that it resembled a closed fist.

This would be perfect , Will thought. He then paid for the jade piece, and went on his way, trying to figure out the best way to give it to him.

When Will got back to the Institute, he heard the familiar sound of Jem’s violin, and followed it to Jem’s room. He pushed the bedroom door open, and he saw Jem sitting on the trunk at the foot of his bed, looking rather feverish.

“Jem,” Will said, trying to get his attention.

The violin playing ceased, and Jem turned his head to look at Will. “Oh! Hello, Will,” Jem said, his eyes lighting up.

“You don’t look so well,” said Will. “Did you take any of the… the stuff?”

Jem sighed. “Yes, I just did. This is my immediate reaction to it, becoming feverish and whatnot. It’s rather-”

“I got something for you,” Will interrupted.

“You got something for me ?” Jem asked, looking incredulous.

“I heard what Henry said earlier about jade, and I thought this would make you feel less homesick if you had it.” Will pulled the small parcel out of his pocket, and handed it to Jem.

Jem took it, and started to unwrap it. Will’s heart started to beat rapidly, trying to anticipate what his reaction would be.

“Wow…” Jem said finally, his fingers gliding over the jade. He looked up at Will then, and his face crumbled. He walked over to Will and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in his shoulder.

Will stiffened. He normally would have pushed them away if someone tried to hug him, but he let Jem hug him in that moment; he felt tears dampen the material of Will’s shirt. The sound of his sobs broke Will’s heart. It was the sound of a boy who felt lost and alone, much like he did; the thought made Will’s own eyes well up with tears.

“Thank you, Will,” Jem said, his voice muffled by Will’s shirt. At that, Will wrapped his own arms around Jem, holding on to him tightly. Will wasn’t very good at friendships, but in that moment he vowed that he would try to be for Jem.

The next morning at breakfast, Jem took his normal seat at the dining room table next to Will. He smiled at Will as he sat down, and he noticed something shining at Jem’s collar. It was the jade pendant that Will had given to him last night; he had attached a chain to it, and was wearing it as a necklace. Will felt his face heat up and he ducked his head, smiling to himself.

[heronchildlove]

39 for a Heronchildstairs/Heronfairstairs kiss (or kisses?) ☺️

Kiss roulette prompts - Accepting

39. A tentative kiss

When the ship docked, they were waiting for him at the pier. Even amongst the hundreds of people, Matthew spotted them immediately, James' close presence calling out to him and Cordelia's fiery hair catching his attention like a moth to a flame.

He ran down the ramp to meet them, caution be damned, and was still slightly surprised when they ran towards him, too, but the happiness of their presence and the warmth of their hugs drowned out that insecure part of himself that was always whispering on the back of his mind.

"Jamie bach," he called out startled when James finally let him go, "are you crying?"

"Of course not, why would I be crying? Just because you are finally here again after a whole year and I can finally see you and touch you and hear your voice and-"

"What James means-" Cordelia interrupted the tirade with a laugh, her eyes also a little teary. "Is that we missed you terribly and we are glad you are back and well."

"Angel." Matthew blinked rapidly and closed his eyes momentarily not to let his own tears fall lest their whole reunion turned into a very melodramatic and pathetic ordeal, then smiled to ease the tension. "It's not like I went to a demonic dimension. Uh, not again, anyway. I was just around the corner, and I sent plenty of letters."

The mention of letters brought up a memory that made his heart skip a beat, because on their last exchange... James and Cordelia couldn't possibly mean what he thought they had meant, could they?

James and Cordelia exchanged a cryptic look, Matthew hoped not because they had guessed at his swirling thoughts, though he couldn't fathom what else it ought to be about. Before he could ask or work himself into a frenzy, however, Cordelia was linking her arm with his and James was picking up his luggage.

"Let's get into the carriage before it starts raining and then we can speak more freely." James said, already clearing a way among the crowd for them.

"Yes, we have plenty to talk about. Specially because your letters were always less than reassuring. Must you always get yourself mixed up in seances, Matthew?"

Matthew groaned, always full of mixed feelings over the night he had "met" - and absolutely embarrassed himself in front of - his greatest idol. "Well, first of all..."

He launched himself into one of his stories and famous tirades, barely paying attention to what he was saying. His heart had taken to drumming into his chest and, instead of clearing, his thoughts kept spinning faster and faster.

One year he had spent away. One year he had taken to clear his head, lick his wounds and get over his feelings, but now that he was back it was as if no time had passed at all.

He just couldn't ignore the way his soul had settled into itself for the first time in a year once he saw James, the seemingly countless hooks that were always pricking under his skin and pulling him into his direction finally coming loose as if he was a magnet finally allowed to meet its other half. Or the way his heart had soared at the mere glimpse of Cordelia's hair in the distance, a dam he had battled hard to build coming undone at the first flood as if it was nothing.

He just couldn't deny how everything about them called out to him. How the scent of James' cologne still lingered under his nose from when he had pressed up to him, how Cordelia's arm around his was like a searing fire even through the layers of their clothes. How the world seemed brighter and warmer with them nearby, wonderful in the cosiness of their presence.

Maybe he could have, if it weren't for the letter. Maybe his defenses would have stayed up neatly and his hopes buried deep if it weren't for those words. He could still see them every time he closed his eyes, seared behind his eyelids in James' careful handwriting:

Now that your travel year is over, we urge you to hurry home. Your absence has left a gaping wound in both of us that we just can't bear anymore. It's been a sobering and painful realisation that, no matter what has been said or done, neither of us can live without you - nor do we wish to. I'm sorry if these words seem cruel, but I promise we'll explain everything once we meet, so please come home.

Cruel. Matthew tried to decide - as he did then - if they really were. Maybe. Sort of. Hope was a cruel thing, but only, he thought, if it was unfounded. Their words didn't make it sound unfounded. All they did was make Matthew feel as befuddled as he felt cautiously happy. Their letter exchanges had started distant and cold and full of guilt, but had become more relaxed slowly but surely, and then taken a definitely more intimate turn those last couple of months. Matthew had thought it had all been in his head, his own wishful thinking taking over again, but if that last letter really meant what he thought it did, he could not find them the littlest bit cruel.

Because he knew he couldn't live without them, either.

"Matthew? Matthew, are you okay?"

Cordelia's question brought him back and he smiled at her reassuringly.

"Yes, sorry. Just tired from the trip. I must have spaced out."

"That you did. You didn't even laugh when we told you lil Zachary threw up on Charles the one time he tried picking him up." James pointed out.

"He did?" Matthew repeated with a startled laugh now. "Remind me to pay him my respects next time I see him."

"Will do. He likes the colour green and, to the horror of all of us Herondales, ducks, if that helps."

"Quite."

Matthew felt a pang in his chest at their silly conversation as James helped the coachman secure his luggage to the carriage and he helped Cordelia climb up into it. All these little details and their shared quips were what had made James so unfathomably dear to him from the start. He hadn't realised just how much the years with the bracelet had robbed from James, or how much he had missed him.

"Alright, we are all set." James climbed in beside Cordelia and tapped the roof of the carriage to get them moving. "I've instructed the driver to take us to your flat. For now."

"For now?"

Cordelia elbowed James unceremoniously.

"Jamie is getting ahead of himself. We just entertained the idea that, considering our talk today goes well, if you would want to maybe someday move in with us. If you feel comfortable to, that is."

"Me? Move in with you? ...To Curzon Street?"

"Where else?"

Cordelia elbowed James again, and Matthew would have found it quite funny if he wasn't so busy being completely breathless.

"I think we should have that talk now."

"Don't you want to wait until you are home and settled-"

"No, now. If you are going to keep saying shocking things that make my heart give out, it's better if we stay in the carriage in case we need to quickly divert to a hospital."

Cordelia rolled her eyes as if she wanted to elbow him too, but then smiled.

"Very well, then, I suppose we should get the most shocking thing out of the way first just in case. If your heart survives that, we will be in the clear to finish the conversation. Ready?"

Matthew made a show out of steeling himself to hide the fact he was actually mentally preparing, then nodded. "Hit me."

"We are in love with you."

Simple and direct, one of the reasons why he had fallen in love with Cordelia. He did worry for a moment he was indeed having a heart attack and would need to be hospitalised, but a few deep breaths calmed him down enough to be able to answer.

"Still with us, Math?"

"Barely, but yes. I... have a few questions."

"As is your right. We are sure this is the last thing you were hoping to hear."

"No, in fact. Since we are saying shocking truths..." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply one more time before confessing. "That is exactly what I was hoping to hear, but I didn't really think it would really happen. If I remember well, just one year ago I was told very pointedly that you" he pointed at Cordelia "loved him and not me and that he was your one and only. And you" he pointed at James now "never once gave any sign of returning my affections or even knowing they were there, not even before we became parabatai, so... How? Why now? What could have possibly changed in a year?"

"Well..." Cordelia started, "you went away. For one."

"So what? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? That's a terrible cliche."

Cordelia chuckled.

"May be, but it was something like that. It's not that it made us fonder of you, as I do not think you could be any more dear to either of us, but it just made us more aware. Those feelings we shared in Paris that I thought would go away after I settled things with James just... never did. They remained here, and not having you near just made them that more apparent as I kept thinking of what you would do or say in a situation and missing you and wishing you were here."

"Yes, and you have to remember... I have not been all myself since I was young. I've been tattered to Grace and her whims for as long as I can remember, and it's only now that I'm learning how to be myself and how to handle my feelings as myself again, and you not being here made me realise there were ever only 2 people able to break through Grace's spell: one of them was Daisy, of course, but the other one was you, Matthew. But as you have always been here by my side, I didn't notice it as much as with Daisy, not until you went away and took half my soul and my heart with you. Or, well, one third of it."

Matthew closed his eyes again at the onslaught of emotions their words brought. "I am dreaming. I had way too much lobster for dinner last night and am now in my cabin having queer dreams from which I shall unfortunately wake from very soon."

He yelped when he felt something pinch the back of his hand and he opened his eyes to see James' mischievous smirk and outstretched hand.

"Was that enough to convince you you are not dreaming or should I do it again?"

"That was dreadful and uncalled for is what it was, I was merely being overdramatic. You have become less gracious during this time we have been apart, Jamie."

"And you have taken to stall things way too much. Speak honestly, Math, how do our confessions make you feel?"

"I am being honest, I feel like I am in a dream. A ridiculous wish-fulfilling one at that."

"So you are not displeased?"

"I have never been more pleased by anything in my life. I just still don't understand why or how."

"If you mean how we arrived at such insightful conclusions after being so obtuse about our own feelings for so long, you can thank my parents for that."

That was something Matthew wasn't expecting.

"Uncle Will and Aunt Tessa?"

"Yes." Cordelia confirmed. "It seems all very simple saying it now, but we agonised over this on our own for a long time. James thought he was misinterpreting or making a mock of the parabatai bond, I thought I was being cruel and selfish and unfaithful. It made me so distressed that Tessa noticed and she got me to confess what had been eating at me for the past months. I thought she would hate me for hurting her son even if only in my own heart and thoughts, but instead... She asked me if I thought her or Will were being unfaithful to each other every time they talked to or about Jem and that startled me so. I had never thought about it like that. She was the one that made me consider that this romantic idea I had been fed since young that there's only ever one person that is our soulmate wasn't always accurate and encouraged me to talk to James about it..."

"So she did, and it was not an easy conversation for either of us, but it did lead me to go talk to my father afterwards to get his perspective on things, which was, as my mother's, surprisingly simple: that you are mine as Jem is his. Or rather, that we belong to each other as they do."

Matthew couldn't help but smile. How many times had he looked at Aunt Tessa and Uncle Will and Uncle Jem and yearned for what they had? Sometimes just for someone that loved him as much as those three loved each other, other times that James would look at him and call his name as Will did Jem's. Then, when Cordelia came along, even though things were very messy for all of them at the time, he would be lying if he said that sometimes he didn't wonder if they could solve things as neatly as that. It looked like, even indirectly, his heroes had gotten him the happiness he had always craved, he still couldn't believe it.

"I'm starting to think I should have brought the three of them bigger presents. I've always admired them, did you know? Being in the Ruelle every night, I saw many arrangements like that that seemed amazing to me, and the fact there was one amongst the nephilim, even if none other recognised it, always gave me hope."

"You are wiser than me. Or maybe because I grew up with them I never noticed exactly what they were to each other, only when they pointed it out to us did I realise how clear it all was. Sorry if my being slow caused you even more unnecessary pain."

Matthew shook his head.

"You have nothing to apologise for, most people don't go around seeking what's outside the norm. I'm the one that has always lived in it. Which is why I still need to ask: are you both really sure? Is this not a passing fad, or curiosity, or a mistake? I... Honestly don't see what could be so interesting in me to earn and keep your affections when you already have each other or even why I would deserve them."

"Math..."

"You are you. You don't have to do anything to deserve us. We both know your light and your darkness, and we love you for who you are. Us being blind towards our own feelings is a fault in us, not in you, and we are sorry for having made you suffer so much for it until now."

"Exactly. Besides, you have it backwards. I still don't know what I did to deserve you. I was always just a friendless boring kid and you were like... the sun. But you have always loved me anyway, and I have always loved you. If you don't believe me, you should know: I didn't mention anything about our time in Edom to my father, mind you, but after we talked I realised what happened there, what I did, bringing you back like that... It wouldn't have been possible if my feelings for you weren't bigger than what I had ever allowed myself to notice either."

"Oh..." Was all Matthew could say.

"Exactly."

"Me and you love James enough to go to hell for him and he loves us enough to bring us back from it both times. I haven't had the chance to go to hell for you to prove my love for you, too, but I would if I had to."

"No, thank you. We have had enough visits to hell to last for the rest of our bloodlines."

He realised he sounded very frantic while saying it, which was probably what made Cordelia smile.

"So what should I do to prove my undying love for you so you'll take me seriously, Matthew?"

"Literally anything else. Buy me flowers, write me a poem, kiss me-"

"Oh, I can do that last one."

Matthew froze. He hadn't really meant to say the last one, it had just slipped out, and now he didn't know what to do.

"What?"

"I can kiss you. To show my love. It's a very good idea, actually. Can I?"

Cordelia moved to sit on the seat beside him and the carriage felt very stuffy suddenly.

"I think I'm having another heart attack."

"After she kisses you, can I do it, too? Since we have both started talking about this, I've been thinking about it. A lot. I would like to know what it would feel like or what - if anything - would change."

Matthew groaned.

"You are not helping, Jamie."

Cordelia put her hand on his face and caressed his cheekbone. He remembered what it was like to kiss her, jow soft and warm her lips were. She looked even more beautiful now than that night in Paris, because now he was certain her desire was meant for him.

"Can I?" She asked again.

"Yes." His response was almost a whisper, but it was enough. She leaned close and pressed their lips together slowly, tentatively. It made him gasp, fireworks exploding behind his eyelids. It was such a soft, cautious thing, but it made him more breathless than all their kisses in Paris had.

He had almost forgotten James was there, too, until he asked:

"How did it feel?"

"Right. So right. You should try it too, James." Cordelia answered against his lips and Matthew's head started to spin as he felt the seat dip again as James sat behind him, and a soft hand held him under his chin and tipped his head to the other side.

"Can I?" James asked too, voice more apprehensive than Cordelia's, and Matthew could never have James feeling unsure in any way.

"Please," he asked, and when their lips met, Matthew was sure he had been hit by lightning in that same moment. He and James both gasped, their relationship fundamentally changed forever, but it was a change none of them would ever wish to take back.

"So?" Cordelia asked, giddy.

"Yes, so right." James answered, and Matthew felt like he had been turned to jelly between their embraces.

"Yes," he breathed out. So right, the most righteous thing Matthew had ever felt or done his whole life. "So... What do we do now?"

"Your flat is just around the corner." Cordelia pointed out, looking out the window for a moment. "First, let's get you settled back home and then we can finish our talk and figure things out for now."

"And then we'll have the rest of our lives to figure everything else out together." James added, moving back to his seat and taking Matthew's hand in one of his and Cordelia's in the other.

Matthew looked down to where Cordelia extended him her other hand and smiled. For the first time in his life he knew exactly where he belonged, and he would do everything in his power to remain there. He took Cordelia's hand, too.

"Together." He promised, kissing both their hands to seal his vows.

[kvohru]

boxes of clementines | w. herondale

will herondale x fem reader, no mention of shadowhunter stuff, established relationship, husband!will, fluff!!!! so much fluff!!!!, cross posted on ao3 under @/kvohru

‘There are boxes of clementines in the kitchen and the thing is that I love you again.’ — Alessia Di Cesare, The Side Effects of Eating Too Many Clementines

Despite it being a December morning, it was surprisingly warm in your home— for a wintry London day's standards, that is. The sun was up, for one thing, its delicate rays filtering through the clouds and into your kitchen.

Perhaps it's the fact that you live in the countryside? you thought idly as you put away your groceries. Maybe that's why it was sunnier today? Well, regardless, your warm friend was still a welcome guest any day.

Seeing as how it was the weekend today, neither you nor Will had work, so you took it as a chance to get caught up on some housekeeping chores like groceries and such. Well, you had been out getting groceries while Will—who was set to return by the afternoon—was out doing… other things. (He was out replacing something or the other, you weren't quite focusing when he had told you about it the other day.)

And so you went on, adopting a tranquil rhythm, sorting boxes into cupboards and washing all the fresh produce you'd bought. Apples, strawberries and cucumbers were left to soak in the sink while the boxes of clementines were left on the kitchen counters.

You let out a contented sigh. It was a good morning.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It was well past the afternoon when Will was walking up the stone walkway to the quaint countryside home. In fact, the sun was already starting to set by then, the pale blue sky quickly turning a warm orange instead.

He trudged up the steps to the front porch, adjusting the large bouquet in his hands; a brilliant arrangement of flowers that he didn't think twice about buying when he passed by that florist he often frequented for you.

He shifted the bags he was carrying along with said bouquet to his other arm, freeing up his right to dig into his coat pocket for the keys. “Cariad?” he called as he walked in, toeing his shoes off and placing them neatly beside the door.

It was a few seconds before your reply, which came in form of a Hm?, could be heard. He set all the bags down. A few more seconds where he could hear your feet padding across the wooden floors before you finally, finally, came into view.

“Will!” After all these years, you still had a way of seeming utterly excited when seeing him. I mean, he could practically see the almost cartoonish glimmer in your eyes from across the room.

“Hey, darling,” he greeted gently, his whole body instantly relaxing at the sight of you. It was as if simply being around you worked all the knots from his shoulders and eased all his muscles.

The smile wholly transformed your face at the sound of the term of endearment, the corners of your eyes crinkling adorably and your lips splitting instantly into a wide smile.

The setting sun cast long shadows on the ground, the slanting rays giving a warm orange tinge to the earth, the sky and everything in between.

Your eyes finally left his face and travelled down to his body, where you finally spotted the bouquet balanced on his elbow. He had thought it'd be the first thing you'd notice when he walked in, seeing as how it was almost as big as his torso, but you hadn't.

You'd been too transfixed on his face, on him, to notice anything else.

Your face instantly softened, an almost infinitesimal shift in your expression that would've been impossible to notice if it were anyone else looking at you. But Will noticed. He always did.

It was like it was happening in slow motion, that change in your expression. From the previous childlike joy at seeing your husband to the look of pure, unadulterated love in your eyes.

“Oh, darling,” you breathed, almost to yourself, as you walked closer. You gingerly plucked the bouquet out of his arm, instantly pulling it up to your face to smell it. It really was a gorgeous arrangement; from the roses to the carnations to the peonies, and the tiny pieces of baby's breath sprinkled throughout.

And the part that made it all the more precious to you was that you knew Will had taken time out of his day to put it together. You knew it wasn't prearranged, and the image of your husband standing at the florist and meticulously putting together an assortment of flowers for you warmed your heart to an immeasurable degree.

“Will,” you breathed again, and… were you getting teary-eyed? You looked up at him, and yep, those were definitely tears lining your waterline. He couldn't help the corner of his mouth lifting at the sight. “They're so beautiful. You're so beautiful. Thank you so much. I love you.”

You were gushing your praises and gratitude now, and it wouldn't be long before—

“Wait,” you mumbled, a look of realisation (which looked more like horror than anything) falling over your face. You whipped your head around, your ponytail smacking him in the chest from the force of the motion.

He barely contained his amused scoff. You were and would always be incredibly and adorably predictable. Not to mention incredibly easy to read, too.

“No occasion,” he said, interrupting your Oh No Did I Miss An Important Date?™ scanning-over-the-calendar routine. You let out an audible sigh of relief, your whole body slumping forward with the motion, and this time Will couldn't hold back the smug grin.

You set the bouquet down and looked at him, suspicious despite your relief. He could practically hear the question in your gaze (refer back to what I said about you being incredibly easy to read), and he was sure it went something like this: A bouquet this big for no reason?

He sighed dramatically and leaned closer, his voice taking on that classic teasing lilt of his, “What? Can't a man surprise his wife with flowers in peace?”

“But why?” you insisted quietly. Clearly, you were incredibly worried you'd somehow forgotten about an important date. Because what if you had and Will, being the ever so gracious (debatable) man that he was, didn't want to embarrass you by reminding you?

“Just because.”

“But it's so big.” Your worried gaze met his, and his grin split even wider.

“Not the only big thing I can—”

You smacked him lightly on the arm to shut him up. “Come on!” he complained, forever the melodramatic man that he was, “You practically walked into that one!”

You rolled your eyes, but the gesture held absolutely no heat, especially not when you were smiling despite yourself. “Thank you,” you said sincerely, rising up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, and hoping he could sense the extent of your gratitude in that kiss.

“Of course, my love,” he murmured softly between kisses, the teasing leaving his voice entirely and being replaced by an insurmountable amount of love.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

A while later, after he had changed and joined you back in the kitchen, the two of you could be found sitting at the kitchen island, sharing a clementine.

[saintgoths]

☾༺♰༻☽ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀꜱᴇx ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni 18+ - m/f sex.

summary - you ride will herondale.

word count - 508.

will herondale.

“I like that,” he shuddered, his arms wrapped around your waist as he possessively held onto you, you, who had eagerly bounced on his cock had your body leaned against the warmth of his chest, arms looped around his shoulders, focused on chasing your cum that your heat had tightly pulsed around his width.

Just as you had promised from your recent mission, you’d fuck Will if he continued to be good, and as if the world had become alternate, the blue-eyed boy had become well-mannered, courteous and doting, hiding the lump in his trousers he had desperately wanted you to take care off.

You had rolled your hips, your wet walls throbbing against the skin of his cock, the head of his penis licking against the sponginess of your sex, his eyes drunk and dark as he felt his head spiralling, he had wanted this to last for God knows how long, how open his mouth had been, his spit gently drooling down his chin as he had been intoxicated by his lust. Bucking his hips forward, drunk off your hearth as he robotically moved his body.

Smoothly, you had moved your fingers to his chin, cupping his face ere moving to press your lips against his, he had behaved like a dog, one that belonged to an owner, an obedient pet willing to be destroyed by his Goddess, how a dream come true this was, how many moments he had fantasised about you, taking him, riding him and embracing him like the touch starved man he was.

“[Y/N],” he breathed out, whiny, his cock twitching between your cunt, throbbing with impending cum, holding onto your body tight, his demeanour desperate and submissive, his usual cool blue eyes now dark with lust looking into yours, reticently begging you to allow him to cum and once you had purposely locked and tightened your sex around his width---he had grunted, his moan dismayed and chopped, “I love you!” He cried out once his load seeped and coated the warm walls of your cunt.

His grip around you now loose as he had fell against his back, his mind dumb and anxious of the intense climax your wetness and warmth had brought to him, his hands now beside your hips as you rolled yourself, racing and reaching for your climax, using him as your toy while fiddling with your bare and hard nipples. “Good boy,” you moaned, “lay like that for me,” you whimpered while bouncing your figure up his cock, the curved tip of his shaft bruising the soft formless button inside your sex, your heat wetting around his width as you had begun to cream around his length.

“Oh yeah!” You cried out, “fuck!” You whimpered, your body now arthritic and rigid while the rest of your orgasm capped and painted his member aided with soft whines and whimpers rooted from Will, who had looked up at you with soft passionate eyes. “You think everybody heard?” You asked and with a weak chuckle, Will had nodded.

“Definitely.”

ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴇʀᴏɴᴅᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

[starrieshq]

Aftercare [Kitty]

here it is!!! What you all have been waiting for

Enjoy <3

TW: some swearing, mentions of s3x

The sun pierced through the windows of Ty’s room, the curtains were pushed back, and Kit could see the coastline from his spot on the bed.

Ty’s bare chest rose and fell, dark Marks twining up his arms as he pushed his hair out of his face. Kit tried not to stare, but he was, well…

Beautiful.

After several minutes, Kit managed to sit upright. His throat felt scratchy.

“We did use a silencing rune, right?” He asked Ty, who silently nodded and reached for him.

Kit scooted closer to him, and they sat together in silence for a moment.

“We should probably clean all of this up.” Ty motioned at the messy sheets, and Kit nodded, standing.

Pain shot through him, and he buckled against the bed. Ty was immediately next to him and hoisted him up into a bridal style.

“Bath or shower?” He asked.

Kit hated baths, but he could not stand to save his life.

“Bath.” He said reluctantly.

He placed him in the tub, and as Kit began filling it with water, Ty tossed in a bath bomb.

Kit fiddled with the hot water faucet. When he lived with his dad, he almost never had access to hot water. When he moved to the Institute, he became hooked on steamy showers. They felt…relaxing. He took one every day, and when he came out of the bathroom, the mirror was usually foggy.

He was so caught up in though that he didn’t notice that Ty had joined him in the tub until he said,

“Are you okay?”

Kit nodded, hands finding Ty’s and twining them together.

“Yeah.”

Ty began to lather soap across Kit’s back, which was really distracting.

“You know I can do that, right?” Kit asked.

He nodded. “I’d rather do it for you. You should relax.”

Kit settled in, sighing contently as Ty continued to rinse him off, as if any amount of soap would scrub away what had just happened between them.

After several minutes of content silence, Kit cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Did…did you like it?” He asked.

Ty stopped scrubbing him for a moment, considering.

“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It was…”

He trailed off, looking for the right word.

“Different.” Kit finished.

Ty nodded, and went back to rinsing him.

After getting out of the tub (with the assistance of Ty, of course), Kit pulled on a pair of sweats and one of Ty’s t-shirts.

Ty had taken the sheets down to the washer and was now at his desk, headphones on. Kit could faintly hear the classical music playing.

Kit was ever so slightly limping, and he prayed that the iratze he applied would kick in soon. If Dru, or God forbid, Helen or Julian saw him like this, there was not a shadow of a doubt in his mind that they would be having words.

Kit reached for his stele, but before he could apply another iratze, he felt Ty’s hand close around his, gently pulling it away from him.

“What are you doing?” Kit asked.

Ty nudged back the collar of his shirt, and began to draw the iratze.

“I’m the reason you’re limping, it just seems fair that I’m the one who takes care of you.”

Kit shook his head. “You know that I can take care of myself.”

Ty leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to Kit’s collarbone. “But have you considered that I want to?”

Kit’s head spun. Ty was skilled in dishing out compliments to him all the time, and he never had anything to say back to him.

“But why would you want to look after me?” He whispered.

Ty’s lips found his ear, and he said softly,

“Because you are what I want.” His hands curved around Kit’s waist, pulling him closer. “I am yours. Those years we spent apart, I learned that much.”

After a minute or two, they decided to inconspicuously go downstairs. They made their way to the kitchen, where Cristina and Mark stood, animatedly talking on the phone with who Kit presumed was Kieran.

“Julian’s looking for you two.” Mark said as Cristina nodded along to whatever Kieran was saying. “He’s been looking for you guys for a while, and Dru said that Ty’s room was locked, but she refused to open the door with a rune.”

Kit’s ears turned red, but Ty calmly said, “Where’s Julian, then?”

“Bye!” Cristina said, handing the phone to Mark.

“We’ll see you soon, love.” Mark said into the phone. “Make sure to talk to him when you can, ‘kay?” He paused. “Alright. Love you.”

He handed the phone back to Cristina.

“Julian should be at the beach. Emma’s with him.” She said, pocketing it.

Kit felt Cristina glance over him, a small knowing smile on her face.

“Don’t.” He warned her, his eyebrows raised.

“I won’t.” She replied, her smirk turning into the genuine smile it usually was. “It’s just great to see you two happy again.”

The pair headed out of the doors of the Institute, opting to go barefoot in the soft sand. Ty was slightly ahead of him, his silent footsteps refusing to stir up any dust.

He turned around, seeing Kit and smiling slightly. They grasped each other's hand, continuing to head alongside the coast.

Ty pointed in the distance. “I think I can see them.” He said.

A short distance away, Kit could see Emma and Julian heading towards them, along with a shorter figure that could only be Dru.

He tensed slightly. “What do you think they want us for?”

Ty shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe they were curious where we were?”

Kit doubted it was that. The fact that Dru had spottem them and was now eagerly skipping towards them did not give him any comfort.

“See?” She said to Emma and Julian, gesturing at Ty and Kit, “I told you that they were just making out in Ty’s room!”

Kit flushed.

“We weren’t making out.” He said.

“Alright then, Sherlock,” Emma said to Ty. “Explain what’s on Kit’s neck then for me.”

Shit.

Kit had attempted to cover up a hickey on his neck with concealer he found in Dru’s room. Apparently, it must’ve come off.

“We weren’t making out.” Ty confirmed, slightly squeezing Kit’s hand.

Emma did a once-over of Kit.

“I agree.” Emma said, smirking. “I think they had more than a make out session.”

Kit turned redder as Julian approached them.

“There you two are.” He said. “I was thinking that we’d have to get Magnus and imbed you with tracking devices.”

“Or you could just use a Tracking rune.” Ty pointed out.

“Tracking devices would be cooler.” Kit counterargued.

“Regardless,” Julian intervened, waving his arms. “I understand that both of you are 18…”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Kit moaned, covering his face. “You are not doing this in the middle of the beach! Or in front of Dru!”

“I find this entertaining.” Dru said, attempting to cover her laughter and failing miserably.

Julian continued. “And obviously, there’s nothing any of us can do about you two sneaking off and doing…things-”

“To be fair, we were doing things, too.” Emma pointed out. “And we weren’t 18 yet.”

“Regardless,” Julian stated. “You two need to be safe.”

Kit stared at him.

“You knew that we were already in Ty’s room with the door locked, proceeded to go down to the beach to ‘look for us’, and now you’re lecturing us about being safe?” He asked incredulously.

Julian nodded.

“You are ridiculous.” He declared after a moment.

“Don’t worry, we’re fine.” Ty assured Julian.

“This is fucking hilarious.” Dru cackled.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny, Dru.” Julian said. “I’m giving both you and Ash the same talk when you turn 18, too.”

[livsoulsecrets]

Tessa&Kit Fic - You were an angel in the shape of my mom

Written for @fandombingo Martian Bingo prompt: “The longer we wait, the worse it’s going to get.”

Fandom: The Shadowhunters Chronicles.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences.

Summary: In the day of Rosemary’s death anniversary, Tessa and Kit talk about loss, guilt and survival.

“I must be the worst son in the world,” he whispered. “Rosemary’s lucky she never had to deal with me.”

Tessa winced as if she had been slapped. The down tilt of her lips was such an unnatural sight he had to double check before he truly believed her distaste was being directed at him.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Tessa told him.

Read on AO3.

The sun had already begun to set when Kit heard Tessa stepping into the porch of their backyard.

He spent most of the afternoon tucked into the recliner Jem bought as a gift for Tessa, lost in thought.

He had good memories of countless afternoons spent chasing Mina around the green expanse of their garden as Tessa settled in to watch them, a book in hand.

He also found it was as good a place as any for sulking.

His mom settled into the less comfortable wood chair by his side and turned her body to face him. He very deliberately avoided her gaze.

She seemed determined not to push him, if her quietness and smooth movements were any indicators. It reminded him of his first weeks living there.

Tessa and Jem had been painstakingly careful around him, mindful of their words and postures, easygoing and kind, trying their hardest not to scare him away. It made Kit feel like a ticking bomb about to go off half the time. The other half, it made him feel oddly wanted.

Kit wished she would just tell him what to do, only this once. He was good at following a parent’s orders, most of the time. He tended to Johnny Rook’s every whim for years, after all.

But Tessa wouldn’t. She always had good advice to offer and time to hear him out, should he ask for it, but no orders to be followed blindly ever came out of her lips.

If only Kit didn’t hate the idea of asking for help so badly, he would appreciate her patience some more.

“I’m fine,” he said, breaking the silence once it became clear Tessa wouldn’t.

“That’s good to hear,” she replied, unconvinced.

He tapped his feet against the floor impatiently. “It‘s just a bad day. Nothing to worry about.”

Tessa hummed noncommittally and nodded. “I see.”

Kit huffed an annoyed breath and immediately regretted it when his mom’s eyebrows knitted together in a pained expression.

He hated to be the one causing her so much distress. Still, the attentive way her eyes tracked his every movement made his skin crawl.

It reminded him of nights spent sneaking his way through the Shadow Market, his father’s eyes seemingly everywhere and nowhere all at once, watching and waiting for his next mistake.

Tessa wasn’t looking for a reason to punish him, but he feared that his skin would always crawl at the feeling of being watched closely, regardless of whose eyes were laid on him.

“Do you need some time alone? I can leave,” she offered, even though the idea clearly displeased her.

Why couldn’t he stop screwing everything up?

He already had two dead parents and a whole lineage of tragedy to account for. Did he really need to make life harder for Tessa, too?

“No, that’s not it,” he hurried to say, pulling his legs up to tuck his knees under his chin.

Tessa went very still, intelligent gray eyes narrowed. Her silence spelled out the questions she wouldn’t ask out loud.

“What’s it, then?” He could almost make out in the curious glint of her eyes.

“Tell me,” The tense line of her jaw nearly let out.

“Let me help,” Her hands said as they drew patterns over her sweater.

“I think I liked it better when I didn’t know anything about Rosemary,” he muttered finally, rocking the chair back and forth.

Tessa hummed. If the statement surprised her, she didn’t show it at all.

“Now that I do know some things, as small as they are, it hurts more. I thought it would make everything better if I knew what she was like or why she left.”

Kit played with a loose strand of fabric on his shorts, pulling on it with more force than needed as he spoke.

“It doesn’t really help,” he confessed. “Now I know the exact day she died—and what for? So I can have one day every year for the rest of my life to feel miserable?”

He gestured broadly to himself, still avoiding his mom’s sharp gaze.

When it became clear he had nothing else to say, Tessa gently reached for his hand, stilling his attack on the worn-out fabric of his clothes. “I can understand why days like today can weigh you down. I’m afraid there’s not much to be done about that.”

Kit tensed immediately, realizing how pathetic it was for him to whine about Rosemary’s death anniversary in front of Tessa, of all people.

She had experienced more grief than almost anyone else he knew, except for Jem. They had lost everything but each other. The weight of so much loss became so heavy some days that Kit could almost touch it in the air of their home, tucked away in the corners of the house and hidden behind the echoing sound of Mina’s giggles.

Tessa sensed his regret and rushed to reassure him, “I’m not saying this because I want us to compare our losses. It’s a pointless game to play, believe me.”

She laid a hand on his knee, stopping his shaking leg. Kit hadn’t even realized it was moving that much.

“What I can tell you is that we honor those we lost by living.”

It was a beautiful sentiment, he could admit, but it felt too out of reach for himself.

“I didn’t lose her,” he mumbled in response. Tessa startled, titling her head in clear confusion. “I never had her in the first place.”

Tessa said nothing, just waited as he worked through the lump in his throat.

“Sometimes I feel so angry at her for leaving me behind,” he confessed. “For dying before I had a chance to really know her.”

He laughed a hollowed sound, devoid of any joy. Tessa’s eyebrows scrunched together in a painful twist of her serene expression.

“Isn’t that ridiculous?” He huffed. “Rosemary gave everything up to protect me. She died for me, and I’m still angry because… Because I didn’t have anyone to draw a Mother’s Day card for? Because she didn’t tuck me into bed and read me a story every night?”

To his horror, his breathing grew heavier alongside the tears dropping from his cheeks. He forcefully rubbed at his face to dry them.

“I must be the worst son in the world,” he whispered. “Rosemary’s lucky she never had to deal with me.”

Tessa winced as if she had been slapped. The downtilt of her lips was such an unnatural sight he had to take a double check before he truly believed her distaste was being directed at him.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Tessa told him.

She had never spoken to him like that before—so hurt and fierce, like someone had reached inside her chest and broken her heart in two.

“Kit,” she whispered, propping his face up with two of her fingers against his chin. “Don’t you ever repeat that, do you understand? Never again.”

He nodded, still taken aback by her reaction. Then, Tessa softly ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him gently.

“It’s not stupid to feel angry at our parents for the choices they made that impacted our lives,” Tessa said, her own eyes watery. “I didn’t have a chance to know Rosemary, but I’m sure she wouldn’t blame you for what you feel now or for how you felt growing up.”

Had anyone ever held him the way Tessa did now? Had any other person in the world looked at him with so much sorrow in their eyes and managed not to make him squirm under their gaze?

“Being left behind leaves a scar. It doesn’t matter what the reasons were. As noble as they may be, they still hurt. It doesn’t make you a bad son to still carry this hurt with you. You must feel it. In fact, the longer you wait to feel it, the worse it gets.”

He shook his head in denial, the feel of Tessa’s hand against his nape like hot iron for a moment as Kit felt the familiar grief taking over.

“I was just a baby when she left. I can’t miss someone I didn’t know,” he countered.

Tessa smiled sadly, larger and older than life. “Oh, dear, I wish that was true.”

Kit suddenly felt very small and young, as Tessa’s voice became sadder and more ominous.

“Our hearts and bodies carry pain far past what our minds can see. All it takes is one moment for it to be brought forward. Yes, you were too young to remember what it was like to have Rosemary as a mother. It doesn’t change the fact you lost her. It doesn’t mean you can’t mourn what could have been.”

Kit wasn’t sure he believed in that completely. His father had taught him that it was stupid to dwell on the past, especially if it involved his mother.

Tessa was a far smarter and kinder person than Johnny, but Kit had learned that such deeply ingrained lessons were hard to unlearn.

“Any mother would be lucky to have you as a son, Kit,” Tessa said, holding his face delicately, her thumb caressing the slope of his cheek. “I know I am.”

Kit looked at his mom—really, properly looked at her. Her face, preserved by time. Her gray eyes, kinder than he deserved them to be. Her smile, small and sincere and heavy with loss.

He loved her so much more than his heart could bear. He loved her and trusted her and couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t love him too.

Kit wasn’t used to believing he had earned his place in anyone’s life, but Tessa made it feel so easy—like he didn’t need to earn anything in the first place.

“Do you mean that?” He asked, sounding like a scared boy searching for dry land in a revolting sea.

And Tessa threw him a lifeline as easily as she had undone each of his defenses. “I do. Of course I do.”

She laid a kiss on his temple. His eyes closed, and he instinctively leaned into the touch.

Kit felt far younger than he truly was as Tessa held him and pressed kisses to his forehead. He was certain, then, that the steadfastness of her love would never cease to amaze him.

When Tessa pulled back to look into his eyes again, he ruffled his hair before saying, “I’ll never try to replace her, Kit. She’s your mother too and will always be. You don’t need to be scared of talking about her.”

He nodded. His throat felt too tight for him to try and say anything at all.

“But since the day I laid my eyes on you, I’ve loved you. I knew that feeling, deep in my gut. I had felt it three times before, and I felt it again when I met you.”

His treacherous, already swollen, eyes watered once more against his will. Tessa’s gray ones mirrored his, if kinder and wiser.

“My sweet, brave boy,” she whispered, pulling him to her chest again. “I love you. So much more than you know.”

Kit laced his arms around her, slotting his face in the crook of Tessa’s neck.

For once, he didn’t doubt her.

[saltwaterburns]

LOCKWOOD & CO.

·:*¨༺ Anthony Lockwood

everyone adores you (at least i do)

what it's like dating anthony lockwood

je sais pas m'oublier

you comfort lockwood after a mission gone wrong and somehow end up tangled together with him in the library

two times you kissed him and the one time he kissed you

you and lockwood pretend to be married for a case

as our worlds move on, in this shirt, i can be you

he can't help but reminisce about what used to be

·:*¨༺ Lucy Carlyle

addicted to kissing you

lucy makes her way to your room after a sleepless night, and you can't help but let her in. kissing ensues

·:*¨༺ Lockwood & Co.

intertwined, sewn together

the entire team trying to comfort you after a rather nasty end to your recent relationship

SHADOWHUNTERS

·:*¨༺ Jace Wayland

jace wayland comforting you would include:

jace finds you crying your eyes out in the greenhouse

HARRY POTTER

·:*¨༺ Theodore Nott

i walked with you once upon a dream

theo seems to have a thing for girls who see peculiar dreams

cut yourself open and present your true self to me

all the things theodore nott seems to be

shaped by surroundings

a peek into who i think theodore nott's mother was

·:*¨༺ Mattheo Riddle

who am i if not my fathers son?

all the things mattheo riddle seems to be

·:*¨༺ Logan Howlett

SFW alphabet

coming soon ...

NSFW alphabet

logan howlett getting exposed by every letter

corrupt me and dig your claws into me

a smutty drabble

·:*¨༺ Wade Wilson

SFW alphabet

coming soon ...

[dayque]

My first fanfic

I am so nervous, but I really loved this idea and I had to write it!

Protective Alec Big Brother is my delulu and I really love Isabelle character so muuuuch.

Go read Because we love you!

We are not alone!

I made this fic to delve deeper into Izzy's character and the psychological consequences of hiding traumas as a method of defense. To a large extent it is a hug to myself, as a person with PTSD, because knowing that I am not alone in the process is a great comfort. Many times my best companions are the characters I read, so I hope this fanfic also brings a little warmth when you read it.

I love the Shadowhunters series because it addresses mental illness as an integral part of the characters without condemning them to be unhappy just because their mind is sometimes not completely healthy.

We deserve to be happy.

We can do it💜