#shadowhunters fluff

[princesslightgiggles]

I brought you all the stars

In the quiet corridors of the New York Institute, Isabelle Lightwood had just returned from a mission. Her boots echoed sharply as she approached Clary Fray, who was engrossed in sketching some new runes.

"Izzy, hey! How was the mission?" Clary asked, brushing a strand of fiery hair behind her ear.

"Fine” she took her weapons off and laid them down.

Izzy looked around. Where’s Simon? she enquired. “he said he’d be here this evening”.

Clary’s expression shifted to one of discomfort. "Simon... he’s going through a tough time. He turned, bit his sister, and then had to convince his mom he was dead to protect her."

Izzy's dark eyes widened in shock. "What? And you left him alone after all that?"

Clary looked down, guilt lining her features. "I had to train for an important mission, and Simon said he wanted to be alone." She shrugged.

“You call yourself his friend?” Izzy said fiercely, of course he shouldn’t be alone after all that!”

Feeling a surge of protectiveness, Izzy hurried to the guest room where Simon was staying, not able to go back to his Mum’s house. She knocked softly. "Simon, it’s Izzy. Can I come in?"

From inside, Simon's voice was a fragile whisper, "Go away, Izzy. I’m fine."

Ignoring his protests, Izzy pushed the door open and found Simon shirtless in some borrowed jogging bottoms, sitting on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. He looked up, tears streaking down his face, and before he could say another word, Izzy was by his side, enveloping him in a tight hug. Simon broke down completely, his body shaking with sobs as he clung to her.

Once his tears had subsided, Izzy spoke gently, "I'm going to get some provisions. You need to drink, Simon, or you'll vamp-out again." Reluctantly, he nodded, and she left him to gather supplies.

An hour later, Izzy returned, arms laden with packets of blood and a huge stack of Blu-rays. "I couldn’t remember if it was Star Wars or Star Trek you liked, and there were so many of each, so I got you all the stars," she said, slightly exasperated as the stack started to slip.

Simon chuckled, the sound muffled by his residual sadness. He was so touched by her thoughtfulness, he nearly started crying again. "You got me all the stars," he repeated, a small smile playing on his lips. He took the blu-rays from her and placed them on the table.

After he drank some blood, Izzy set up a movie and insisted Simon lie with his head in her lap on the sofa. A maternal gesture she hoped would make him feel safe and cared for. She ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him as the movie played. Simon's tears had dried, but his breath still hitched from the day's emotional toll.

Izzy’s hand drifted to Simon’s back, stroking him gently . Simon groaned slightly with pleasure at the gentle touch. When her fingers reached the back of his ribs however, Simon jolted, a giggle escaping him despite his mood. Izzy's eyes lit up, and she teased the spot again, drawing more giggles and squirms from Simon.

"Ahh…. tickles," he laughed, trying to swat her hand away, but his laughter was a welcome reprieve from his earlier sorrow. Izzy took pity on him and went back to stroking his back.

As the movie flickered in the background, Simon found himself more relaxed than he had been in days, the recent chaos of his life momentarily pushed aside. Izzy's presence was calming, and her hands on his skin a soothing balm.

Gradually, Izzy resumed her gentle exploration. She noticed how Simon's tension seemed to ease with every giggle and squirm, so she continued, curious to see which spots made him laugh the most.

Gently, Izzy moved her fingers along Simon's sides, testing lightly before finding a spot around his hip that made him spasm. As she brushed her fingers here, Simon’s laughter peaked. He writhed under her touch, squirming but making no real effort to escape. The sensation, while intensely ticklish, was oddly soothing, the physical release bringing a lightness to his spirit.

"Ok, ok, you win…. you found the spot," Simon eventually gasped out between laughs and grabbed her hand, his voice warm with amusement.

"Alright, I'll stop," Izzy relented.

“You don’t have to” Simon sounded disappointed. "It’s... it’s kind of nice." He admitted, his voice soft and husky. “Just… not there, ok?….. tickles too much” he gave her his signature lopsided boyish grin.

Izzy grinned. She left his hip, going back to his back and ribs. “Is this ok?" she asked, wanting to make sure he was comfortable with the playful interaction.

“Mmmmmm…” Simon practically purred.

Encouraged, Izzy kept up her gentle assault, watching as Simon's eyes sparkled with laughter. Each ticklish spot she discovered seemed to unravel more of the tension that had built up inside him. She hit a particularly sensitive spot near his belly button and he jerked slightly. His laughter was deep and genuine, a sound which was music to Izzy’s ears.

With a soft smile, Izzy stopped trying to find ticklish spots and resumed stroking his back, watching as Simon's eyes grew heavy. "Thank you, Izzy," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.

"No thanks needed. I'm here for you, Simon," she whispered back.

As the movie continued, the room filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional chuckle from Simon as Izzy brushed over a sensitive spot on his body. The light mood remained, a stark contrast to the shadows that had followed him into the room. As Simon finally drifted into sleep, his face relaxed and a small smile lingering on his lips, Izzy watched over him, glad to have brought him some peace and laughter in the midst of turmoil.

[soulofapatrick]

Safe in your Arms - Alec Lightwood x female reader 

Summary: You can’t sleep so you slip into bed with Alec

Words: 1.7K 

Warnings: none really 

Notes: This is written from female pov (my pov) however can be read as gender neutral so will put this story in both male and female reader 

Y/N’s POV

The darkness presses in around me, suffocating and heavy. Another sleepless night grips me tightly, refusing to release its hold. With a sigh, I rise from the bed, the covers slipping off my like unwanted shackles. 

Padding down the familiar corridors of the Institute, my footsteps echo softly against the stone floors. The hushed whispers of the night greet me, a comforting presence in the solitude. Each door I pass I hesitate, unsure who I’m looking for comfort in. 

I barely pause outside Clary’s room as we’ve never seen eye to eye so I continue on, finding myself outside Izzy’s door. The familiar, faint scent of jasmine wafting though the air. She's always been a source of strength and support, but tonight, the idea of seeking refuge in her embrace feels somehow... wrong, too intimate. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something holds me back, a silent voice urging me to continue my search elsewhere.

Jace’s door looms ahead, a silent invitation beckoning me to seek shelter within his presence. For a moment, I hesitate, my hand hovering over the door handle as memories of shared laughter and whispered secrets flood my mind. But then, with a heavy sigh, I pull away, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down upon me like a leaden cloak.

My fingers ghost over Simon's door, the thought of seeking solace in his company tempting yet ultimately unfulfilling. We may share a bond forged in battle, but there's a divide between us that I can't seem to breach. With a sigh, I move on, the ache of loneliness gnawing at my heart with each passing moment.

And then, finally, I find myself standing outside Alec’s room, the door a silent barrier between me and the solace I seek. With a hesitant hand, I push the door open, the soft creak of hinges breaking the silence like a whisper in the night. 

Inside, the room is bathed in a gentle glow, the moonlight filtering through the curtains casting shadows across the floor. Alec lies asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. For a moment, I simply stand there, drinking in the sight of him. Gone is the usual tension that seems to etch lines into his features during the waking hours. Instead, his face is softened by slumber, his expression serene and unguarded. The furrow of his brow, which often accompanies his deep concentration or stern demeanour, is smoothed away, replaced by an air of tranquility.

A small smile graces his lips, a sight so rare it’s almost surreal. It’s a stark contrast to the usual scowl that seems to be his default expression during the day. In this moment of vulnerability, his true essence shines through, a gentle warmth that draws me in like a moth to a flame. 

I find myself captivated by the peacefulness that radiates from him, the subtle rise and fall of his chest a soothing rhythm that lulls me into a sense of calm. It's as if all the worries and burdens of the world have been momentarily lifted from his shoulders, leaving behind only the purest essence of who he is.

In this moment, Alec is not the fierce warrior or the stoic leader. He is simply Alec, vulnerable and human, a reminder that even the strongest among us need rest and respite from the battles we face.

And as I gaze upon him, a small smile tugs at the corners of my own lips, mirroring the one that graces his face. I hesitate for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest, before I gently lift the duvet and slide into the bed beside Alec. The rustling of the sheets stir him from his slumber, his eyelids fluttering open blearily as he tries to make sense of the intrusion. 

“Wha—?" His voice is thick with sleep, the words trailing off into a soft murmur as he blinks owlishly at me. Confusion dances in the depths of his eyes, but there's also a hint of warmth, a flicker of recognition that warms my soul.

“What are you doing Birdie?" he mumbles, his words barely audible in the stillness of the room., the nickname he’s given me sending a shiver down my spine. Despite the grogginess that clouds his mind, there's a note of curiosity in his voice, a silent question hanging in the air between us. 

"I couldn't sleep," I confess quietly, my voice barely more than a whisper. "And... I needed to be near you.”

Alec’s expression softens at my words, a silent understanding passing between us. Without a word, he shifts around in the bed, making room for me to settle beside him. The duvet envelops us both in its warmth as we find our positions, his body fitting against mine like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. 

We settle into our newfound arrangement, a sense of peace washes over me, a warmth that seeps into my bones and drives away the chill of the night. In Alec's arms, I find sanctuary from the storms that rage within me, a refuge from the chaos of the world outside. And as sleep begins to claim me once more, I find solace in the knowledge that, for tonight at least, I am not alone. 

As the first rays of dawn  filter through the curtains, I gradually awaken from the depths of sleep, the heaviness of slumber clinging to my limbs like a comforting embrace. The warmth of Alec's presence envelops me, his arm draped protectively over my waist, anchoring me to the present moment.

I can feel the weight of his body pressed against mine, a comforting solidity that grounds me in reality. His unruly black hair tickles my cheek, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips pressed against my shoulder where my shirt has slipped slightly.

Alec emits a soft snuffle in his sleep as I gently begin to scratch his scalp, the motion soothing both him and me. His breath is warm against my skin, a gentle rhythm that lulls me back into a state of tranquility. 

He shuffles around as he begins to slowly slip from sleep, his brilliant blue eyes fluttering open, revealing a sleep-ridden expression that tugs at my heartstrings. There’s a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability that I've rarely seen in him before. And as his eyes meet mine, a flicker of recognition dances in their depths, as if he's just now realizing that I'm here, lying beside him. 

For a moment, we simply stare at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us. And then, slowly but surely, a small smile tugs at the corners of Alec's lips, a gesture so tender and genuine that it sends my heart soaring. 

Alec brushes the hair out of my face, his touch gentle, his fingers singing against my skin as if committing the moment to memory. I can feel the intensity of his gaze as he studies my face, his eyes searching for something, perhaps an answer to the question that lingers between us. 

And then, without warning, he moves forward, his face hovering just inches from mine. My breath catches in my throat as anticipation coils within me, every nerve in my body on edge with anticipation. 

And then, finally, his lips crash against mine in a kiss that sends shockwaves coursing through my veins. It’s everything I've ever imagined and more, his lips soft and plump against mine, fitting together with a perfect symmetry that feels like coming home. He rolls us from our sides so he’s leaving over me, his weight above me feeling right, perfect almost, as if we were always meant to be in this position. 

His kisses are a revelation, each one tasting of warmth and longing, a tantalising blend of sweetness and desire that leaves me breathless. I can feel the heat of his body pressing against mine, his warmth seeping into my skin and sending shivers racing down my spine. 

With every touch, every caress, I lose myself in the sensation of him, the feel of his lips against mine, the brush of his fingers against my skin. He smells of sandalwood and strawberries, a heady combination that fills my senses and leaves me intoxicated with desire. 

In this moment, with Alec pressed against me, every nerve in my body tingles with anticipation. It's as if the world around us fades away, leaving only the two of us in our own little universe, bound together by the intensity of our connection.

But, just as our passion threatens to consume us, a quiet knock at the bedroom door shatters the fragile bubble we've created. Alec lets out a quiet groan, his head falling to my shoulder in frustration before he clears his throat and calls out, "One second!” 

As he climbs out of the bed to open the door slightly, I sit up, the sheets rustling around me, betraying the fact that Alec's not alone. My heart races with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, unsure of what awaits us on the other side of that door. 

And then, as Alec peers out into the hallway, his expression unreadable, I catch a glimpse of blond meaning it’s Jace standing in the corridor, his presence casting a shadow over our moment of intimacy. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I realise that our time alone together may be coming to an abrupt end.

Alec hisses something to Jace before closing the door and turning back to me, his eyes raking up my body, blue eyes darkening before he’s shaking his head and asking, “Breakfast?” 

“Clothes then breakfast?”

“You can wear some of mine, then breakfast.” 

“Deal.” 

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[alesardesign]

Jem and Mina❤️

@cassandraclare ‘s characters

[the-ultimate-obsessive-fangirl]

Alec is completely emo like obviously everyone knows it but you ain't telling me that Magnus doesn't do his eveliner (actually all his makeup) for him whenever they go out anywhere and if you try to tell me that Alec doesn't paint his nails whenever Magnus does death will ensue. Alec embraces his full emo-ness when he's with Magnus. Magnus is Alecs safe space and I love it❤❤

[asterthemegadisaster]

Welcome Home -- a Clace (Clary x Jace) One-Shot

My Masterlist

Content warning: sex (p in v), oral sex (fem!receiving & masc!receiving), creampie, light mention of tasting fluids, showering together

WC: 1.8k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~18+ MDNI!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

image credit

As Clary tossed restlessly in her bed at the Institute, her thoughts were consumed by Jace; his muscular body covered in Runes from years of being a Shadowhunter, his soft blond hair that always smelled of Alec’s shampoo–sandalwood– and the scars that marked him as a warrior. Clary wished for the presence of her fiancé, the empty side of their shared bed suddenly feeling emptier the more she thought of him. 

Church let out a gentle but firm meow as he jumped into Clary’s bed, absently, she petted his soft head, and he responded by purring enthusiastically. Oh, Church, you always know just when I need you, Clary thought affectionately. For as long as she could remember, Church had always been a feature of the Institute, nobody was really quite sure for how long. As the cat purred beside her, Clary found herself finally drifting into a dreamless sleep, welcoming the darkness.

As her morning alarm blared, Clary sat up in bed and stretched her arms. Church had long gone, and she longed for the company. Sliding on her slippers, she rose from the bed, grabbed a towel, and groggily headed to the shower. As she turned on the faucet, she shut the shower door and began combing out her tangled hair. Apparently, the restlessness wasn’t limited to her wakefulness, as she had quite a few tangles scattered throughout her long hair.  

The door opened behind her, and as Clary turned she knew she would see Jace. Throwing her arms around him, she exclaimed, “You’re home!” She was grateful for his prompt return, and glancing up at Jace she said, “I’m glad you’re safe, I missed you.”

Jace grabbed her chin and brought his lips to hers, it fanned the flames burning inside of her. As he deepened the kiss, she could feel his growing arousal against her abdomen as his tongue roamed her mouth.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he whispered sweetly, breaking the kiss.

“Shower with me?” Clary asked quietly.

“If you’d like,” Jace replied, stepping into the shower. Clary quickly followed.

Jace stood under the water with his head back and his eyes closed, clearly enjoying the refuge from his tedious work. As Clary took in the sight of him once more, Jace opened his eyes to look at her. “Turn around, let me wash you,” he commanded gently. Clary complied without question.

Jace grabbed a loofah from the hook in the shower and lathered it with soap, gently rubbing it on Clary’s back. He ran the sponge down her arms, her rear, and her legs, gently supporting her as she lifted each foot so he would wash them. He carefully turned her around, planted a kiss on her forehead, and continued cleansing her, lingering a little too long on her breasts. He swiftly washed the rest of her body and allowed her to rinse.

Afterwards, Clary did the same, lathering Jace’s loofah and gingerly running it all over his body until he was clean. Rinsing himself off, Jace shut off the water as Clary reached for two towels. They quickly dried off and brushed their teeth, and Clary exited to the bedroom.

As she gathered clothes to change into, Jace smiled at her from the doorway. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” He asked.

“Uh, getting ready for the day?” Clary replied, unsure.

“I don’t think so,” Jace said as he crossed the room in 3 large strides. He picked Clary up and gently tossed her onto the bed, eliciting a shriek from her. “Shhh, you don’t want anyone to hear! By the Angel, Isabelle wouldn’t even think twice about barging in here,” Jace chided.

Clary giggled as Jace walked over to her. He leaned down, placing one knee on the bed directly between her thighs and placed three soft kisses, one on her forehead, one on her nose, and finally one on her lips. Clary wrapped her arms around Jace’s shoulders, willing him closer. In response, he nipped at her bottom lip before pulling away.

For what felt like an eternity, Jace just stared into Clary’s piercing green eyes, wholly enraptured by her beauty. A light blush crept across Clary’s face the longer he stared. Jace gently placed his lips on Clary’s, and she couldn’t help but melt under his touch; his hands framed her face as he gently stroked her cheeks as their kiss deepened, their mutual desire coming to the surface. Quickly, her fingers became knotted in Jace’s hair, desperate to drink in all of him as she relished the feeling of his soft lips on hers. 

Her tongue softly traced the outline of Jace’s lower lip and his mouth opened slightly, allowing Clary to explore her lover’s mouth as they tasted one another. Their tongues continued their dance as one of Jace’s hands grasped at her breasts; Clary softly gasped as his mouth left hers and his lips wrapped around her nipple as his tongue gently swirled around it. He trailed kisses down her body, stopping only when he reached the peak of her arousal; she gasped once more as Jace’s expert tongue circled her hardened bud, mercilessly teasing her. 

Soft cries of pleasure filled their room as Jace licked and sucked on her bud, “Oh, Jace,” she said breathlessly as his fingers found her entrance. He grinned with satisfaction at the sight of her writhing beneath him, relishing her moans and gasps. As her inner walls spasmed with her release, Jace doubled down, burying his face in her wetness as he relentlessly assaulted her bundle of nerves. Clary reached out for the pillow beside her and buried her face in it as she cried out with her climax as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her.

Jace pulled the pillow off her face as he leaned down to kiss her, and Clary could taste herself on his lips. Their tongues danced as Clary reached between Jace and herself, her rough hands finding his length, rigid with desire. She gently rubbed him as they kissed, slightly increasing her speed as Jace’s soft groans encouraged her. As she pressed his hardness down to her warm entrance, Jace’s voice was gruff in her ear as he said, “Not yet, my love.” Lifting his head to look at her, he continued, “I want to feel your mouth first.”

Clary slightly nodded her head as she sat up; at the same time, Jace climbed off the bed to stand in front of her, lazily stroking himself. Clary scooted to the edge of the bed and Jace moved close enough to where she could easily take him in her mouth. She licked her lips at the daunting task before her, but before she could think too hard, Jace’s hand was on the back of her head, gently guiding her.

He leaned his head back and let out a low moan as Clary slowly bobbed her head on his impressive length. Encouraged by his sounds of pleasure, Clary slowed her speed and swirled her tongue around his tip each time she lifted her head. Jace’s fingers knotted into her hair, holding her steady without forcing her movements as he gently moved his hips back and forth. “Fuck,” he muttered as Clary took nearly all of him into her mouth, looking up and meeting his eyes, “on your hands and knees baby,” he commanded as he pulled himself out of her mouth. 

Clary obediently got into position on the bed as Jace buried himself to the hilt inside of her. They both gasped and Jace wasted no time, his hips meeting hers with every thrust, “you feel amazing,” Jace murmured as he pounded her. Clary moaned in response, overtaken by the feeling of him. He reached around her, his fingers feeling around until they found her sensitive bud once again, rubbing back and forth gently as Clary moaned. 

“You belong to me,” Jace growled, his other hand wrapping itself firmly around Clary’s throat, “you’re mine, this pussy is mine,” he said fiercely, slamming deeper into her with each thrust.

“I’m yours,” Clary moaned breathlessly. Jace quickly pulled out of Clary, flipping her onto her back as he entered her once more. His hips snapped against hers, filling her completely, as his length hit the spot inside her that drove her mad. Clary grasped at her breasts, pinching her nipples, as Jace thrusted in and out of her, the pair moaning deeply with each impact. Clary reached down between Jace and herself to rub her bud, swollen and aching with desire.

As Clary’s walls clenched with pleasure, Jace’s thrusts steadily became irregular and his gasps came more frequently. “Are you close?” Jace asked, his voice a deep whisper. Clary nodded sharply, aching for release. Jace buried his face in her neck, continuing to ravage her body; he whispered in her ear, “come with me, baby,” and just like that they both came undone. The feeling of Jace’s hot seed rushing into Clary furthered her pleasure as he fucked her through both of their orgasms. Moaning her name into her ear, Jace’s movements slowed to a stop, his hips involuntarily twitching a few times, pushing his seed deeper inside of her. 

Clary lazily stroked Jace’s hair as he lay on top of her, both of them still coming down from their high, “I’m late for training with Simon,” Clary said with a quiet laugh. Jace looked up at her and sighed before placing a kiss on her lips.

“I suppose we shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer,” Jace replied flippantly, gently removing himself from her with a soft groan. He stood up and passed her a towel, “I wouldn’t mind getting in a session with Alec, anyway,” he added, cleaning himself off with a towel of his own. Clary rose from the bed, satisfied with her cleanup job, and began to dress herself in her training gear. 

Jace donned his own clothing and planted a kiss on Clary’s flushed cheek as she tied her hair back, throwing on his shoes and heading out the door. He winked before shutting the door as Clary laced up her own boots, rolling her eyes. 

She stood back up and brushed herself off and exited her bedroom, heading for the attic. She quickly ascended the steps and found Simon studying a collection of throwing knives; Alec and Jace were already engaged in combat, the two of them wielding seraph blades, the adamas singing as each strike was met with a parry. 

Simon looked up as Clary entered the room, grinning, “Finally!” he called out, “I’ve been waiting for the last 15 minutes,” he teased.

“Sorry, I was busy doing, uh, things,” Clary replied sheepishly.

Without missing a beat, Jace called out, “I was things.”

Clary whipped her head around to look at him and saw a smile appearing rapidly on Jace’s face, soon he was beaming from ear to ear. A flush of embarrassment covered Clary’s face, turning it a deep shade of pink. He’ll certainly pay for that later, she thought to herself, shaking her head while laughing lightly.

[vwritesaus]

It starts with an envelope.       In the grand scheme of things, there is nothing all that extraordinary about an envelope. Its sole purpose is to be a carrier of papers, documents, and other such things. What does make it extraordinary, however, is what those papers, documents, and other such things it carries entail.       Good news, bad news, good tidings, surprises of all kinds: an envelope can hold the secrets the same weight as the entire world, or a cheeky letter between friends, or pages and pages of fond words exchanged between lovers. It can hold season’s greetings, a sizeable sum in the form of a payslip, or priceless hope. No one really knows what to expect when handed an envelope, sealed with a kiss or an embossed wax seal, or held together by a piece of string.       The envelope Alastair holds in his hands is no exception.       The cream paper is unassuming and the handwriting on the front is one he’s familiar with. Yet despite its plain appearance, he knows there’s something special inside, and Thomas Lightwood is the one responsible.       Alastair and Thomas have been together for many years now. Courting for two, engaged for one, and married for over five, every day has been a beautiful dream, a long era of bliss after a childhood of walking on eggshells and a tumultuous adolescence. Sometimes Alastair pinches himself just to check it’s all real, that he really is waking up to the man who owns his heart, who has time and time again told him and shown him how deep in love with him he is, and that their matching rings aren’t a mere figment of his imagination.       They’ve created a cosy little home with each other here in 102 Cornwall Gardens, the place imprinted with evidence of their love and life together. Thomas’s pile of Spanish books on the side table in the drawing room. Alastair’s favourite blanket draped over the arm of a sea-blue sofa in the parlour. Thomas’s writing paraphernalia strewn over every single writing bureau. Alastair’s carefully organised sheet music by the piano, one he’s playing on a regular basis these days.       Two razors by the washstand. Two sets of clothes in the wardrobes. Two placements of crockery and cutlery put out for breakfast, lunch, supper and tea every day in the dining room—or the kitchen if it is just them in the house. Two toothbrushes in a cup, a shared bed, walls filled with laughter, secrets whispered by the fire, love poured by the pillowcases…       Once upon a time, Alastair would have scoffed at the description, but there’s no other word to describe them: they are soulmates, through and through. Yet even with all this, Thomas is still able to surprise him.       The case in point? This envelope.

continue reading on ao3

~

for my girlfriend screams @drunkonimagination! buon san valentino, amore mio ♡

first fic of 2025, and first fic i've finished + posted in a while... but that's all about to change!! keep an eye on this page, folks. i'm determined to make this year a year of some serious writing 😤

in the meantime, i hope you enjoy this little fic!

~

tagging people who might be interested: @edwin-paynes-bowtie @purplebass @angeldaisies @faithfromanewperspective @tessherongraystairs @celias @marialightwood-chase @doorstopper @thepictureofsdr

let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

[kasirose]

A bunch of gifsets of forehead touches rolled up on my dash the other day so of course my malec addled brain said drop everything else and draw them XD

version without the arms under the cut

[ravenuex]

Warm my Heart with Soft Kisses, My Love

For @hopesilverheart

I hope you like this, and I wish you a very happy and restful festive season/Christmas:)) <3

Please do take the time to enjoy the small references I've put in the miniature art details, which are as follows (from left to right):

Clary's art as seen in the final episode of the Netflix adaptation, a reference to Magnus' nickname for Clary ("biscuit"), a drawing Clary makes (please correct me on this if this is wrong/you know the exact episode it appears in!),

the rose window of the Institute (as seen in the Netflix adaptation), a drawing Clary has made for Izzy in my headcannon (which has the note "From, Clary x" and a lipstick mark), and then (finally!) one of the art pieces that Clary presents as part of her art uni interview.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and I will try to upload a coloured version in the near future, so please do look out for that:))

[Edit 25/02 - added the coloured version:)]

[tys-kitty]

Imagine a scene where Kit is still researching late in the night in the institute‘s library and Ty left to go shower and returns an hour later with a plate full of Kit‘s favourite cookies. And after several more hours of research and by the time all the cookies have been eaten, Ty hugs Kit from behind before whispering „I think we won‘t figure anything out without enough rest.“ and Kit laces their fingers before placing a soft kiss on Ty‘s palm and saying „You‘re right, let‘s go to bed“.

[archivesatnight]

i am at work and cannot elaborate right now but i believe my many moons as a malec fan may be a massive contributing factor as to why i fell in love with bucktommy so instantly……

[cocostyles]

My first time

Hi! My name is Coco, and I’ll be posting the thousands of one-shots I’ve written but never dared to upload. Also, if you want, you can send me a request, and I’ll gladly write something for you. I’m multifandom and mainly write fluff, smut, and angst. Hope you like it! <3

[princesslightgiggles]

You are bravest person I know

Clary Fairchild’s laughter echoed through the Institute’s training room as she darted around Simon Lewis, fingers poised and wiggling threateningly “Come on, Simon! You can’t hide forever!” she taunted, her playful grin wide.

Simon, already giggling nervously, tried to fend her off. "Clary, please don’t!" he begged, but his voice was already shaky with anticipatory laughter.

Jace and Alec paused their sparring to watch the scene unfold, smirking. Isabelle Lightwood, leaning casually against a pillar, raised an eyebrow but kept her amused gaze on Simon.

"Time's up, Simon!" Clary lunged forward, her fingers finding Simon's sides. His reaction was immediate and explosive. He shrieked and squirmed, collapsing to the ground in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Clary, relentless, continued her tickling assault, as she had done many times since their childhood.

Simon spasmed and laughed, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "Clary, stop! I can't—" he managed between gasps.

Eventually, Clary took pity on him and ceased her attack, letting him catch his breath. Simon lay on the ground, chest heaving, but his laughter was still bubbling up.

Simon sat up, trying to regain his composure, but the embarrassment was settling in. His eyes darted to Isabelle, who was smiling but shaking her head slightly.

The reality of how he must have looked—a writhing, giggling mess—hit him hard. He felt his face burn with shame. Without another word, Simon got to his feet, glared at Clary, and uncharacteristically stormed out of the room.

Clary’s smile faded. “Simon, wait!” she called after him, but he was already gone.

---

It took Clary a while to find Simon, but she eventually spotted him in a quiet corner of the library, slumped over a table. She approached cautiously, her heart heavy with guilt.

"Simon," she said softly, taking a seat next to him.

He glanced up, his expression a mixture of frustration and sorrow. "Clary, why did you do that?” he asked, his voice tinged with hurt.

"I'm sorry, Simon. I didn't think, you’ve never minded before..." Clary began, but Simon cut her off.

"I know and I don’t, not really but did you have to do it in front of…… everyone?” he said, his voice cracking. "It's just—"

"Is it because of Izzy?" Clary asked gently, already knowing the answer.

Simon nodded, sighing deeply. "These past few weeks have been hard. Izzy’s seen me freak out over being a vampire, cry over my mom and now this. I feel like such an idiot in front of her. She grew up with Jace and Alec—two of the bravest, toughest guys around. How can I compare to that? She must think I'm so... weak and silly."

Clary reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Simon, you don't need to compare yourself to anyone. Izzy likes you for who you are."

Simon shook his head, still unconvinced, but before he could say anything else, a soft voice interrupted them.

"Simon."

Both Clary and Simon turned to see Isabelle standing behind them, having heard everything. She stepped closer, her gaze fixed on Simon.

"Can we talk?" she asked, her tone gentle but firm.

Simon looked like he was about to bolt or die of embarrassment. Clary squeezed Simon's arm reassuringly before standing up. "I'll leave you two alone," she said, giving Izzy a small nod before walking away.

Isabelle took a seat next to Simon, her expression serious yet tender. Simon had buried his head in his hands, unable to make eye contact. “Simon, I heard what you said, and I need you to know something: You are the toughest, bravest man I know."

Simon looked up, startled. "But Izzy—"

She held up a hand to stop him. "Let me finish. You've nearly been killed multiple times and yet you keep coming back, you faced Raphael and other vampires to protect those you care about, and you have saved your friends on more than one occasion without any thought for yourself. The fact that you happen to be sensitive and sweet and fun too... is icing on the cake. I'm falling hard for you, Simon. Not despite those things, but because of them."

Simon's eyes widened, his heart pounding. Before he could fully process her words, Isabelle leaned in and kissed him, her lips warm and soft against his. He felt a surge of joy and relief wash over him.

After a few blissful seconds, Isabelle pulled back slightly, a mischievous smile on her lips. She gently placed her hands on his sides, her touch light. Simon, still giddy from the kiss, burst into laughter again, his body convulsing as Isabelle tickled him lightly. After a few seconds, his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, bringing her with him. Their laughter filled the library, echoing off the walls.

As they lay there, Isabelle's fingers continued to dance across Simon's sides and stomach, finding every ticklish spot. Simon shrieked and writhed, his laughter uncontrollable. His face turned red as he tried to beg for mercy between giggles. "Izzy, please! I can't— please…. stop, I'm too ticklish!"

Isabelle's smile widened. "Too ticklish, huh? that’s adorable." She showed no mercy and increased the intensity, her fingers moving to his ribs and underarms. Simon's laughter turned into high-pitched squeals, his nervous system exploding and brain melting with each touch.

He twisted and turned, trying to escape her relentless fingers, but Isabelle was unyielding. "I never knew it was possible to be this ticklish” Izzy teased.

Simon's legs kicked out involuntarily, his arms flailing as he tried to protect himself. Tears of laughter streamed down his face. "Izzy! You're …. killing….. me!" he gasped, his voice breaking with laughter.

Finally, Isabelle relented, her hands stilling as she looked down at Simon, who lay panting and giggling softly on the floor. "You really are wonderful, Simon."

As they lay there, catching their breath, Simon grinned up at her. "So, this is how you get a beautiful woman on top of you, huh? It was even worth getting tickled for” he quipped, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Feeling more like his old playful self again.

Isabelle laughed, giving him a playful swat. "Cheeky," she said, but her eyes sparkled with affection. She leaned down to kiss him once more, their connection deepening.

This time, Simon kissed her back without hesitation, his heart light and full of hope. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them.

In a moment of playful revenge, Simon's fingers found Isabelle's sides, testing her reaction. To his delight, she squealed and squirmed under his touch. "Simon! No fair!" she cried out, laughter bubbling up.

Simon grinned mischievously. "Well, well, well, what have we here? Fair?” He said quizzically. “After how much you just tortured me, I think this is more than fair!” he teased, continuing to tickle her as she tried to squirm away.

Their laughter filled the room again, each touch and tickle bringing them closer. Eventually, they collapsed together, breathless and happy, knowing that there would be many more playful moments together to come.

[soulofapatrick]

Domesticated - Jace Herondale x Female (Daylighter) Reader

Summary: this is a 5 + 1 of all the times you and Jace act like a couple even before you admit feelings for each other

Words: 6k

Warnings: injury, bleeding, blood drinking

Y/N’s POV - 

Part One

I’m not really sure when Jace appearing at random hours of the day in my apartment became a normal things. He’s dirty and covered in ichor from a demon hunt the Clave sent him and Alec on and he’s grumbling to himself as he shrugs off his leather jacket. There’s dried blood on him from wounds his iratze rune probably healed and he’s toeing off his shoes before grumbling more about the demons. 

“I’m going to shower.” He tells me, voice gruff but there’s a softness to it as he addresses me. 

“Alright Jace.” I respond, turning back to the show I was watching, waiting up for him to get back as it’s nearly 2am. Being a vampire is weird, especially a daylighter like Simon as at first I was nocturnal and now, suddenly, I’m back to daylight hours. It was weird getting used to humanity again but ever since Jace has been coming round it’s been easier somehow. 

As I listen to the sound of the water running in the bathroom, I can’t help but think about how effortlessly Jace fits into my life. We’ve been…friends? Yeah, friends for so long, and lately, it feels like we’ve crossed some invisible line into something more. But whenever I’m around him, my heart would be pounding if it could still beat and there’s a stirring in my undead soul, a flutter of excitement I though I had long forgotten. 

If it weren’t for Jace, I might have left the Shadowhunter world behind altogether, taken Magnus up on whisking me somewhere far away, maybe Canada, Clary and Simon, my own best friends, seem to have forgotten about me again, lost in their own adventures and relationship. And Luke, the only parental figure in my life, is more invested in his pack than checking up on me. But somehow, Jace always manages to find his way back to my doorstep, like a guiding light in the darkness. 

I remember the first time he appeared on my doorstep, how he looked at me with those piercing golden eyes and saw something in me that no one else seemed to. He didn’t treat me like a monster or a freak because of what I had become, but instead, he saw me for who I truly am—a creature worthy of love and friendship.

And now, sitting here on the couch, waiting for him to remerge from the bathroom, I can’t help but wonder how the hell we ended up here in this weird dance and routine, so domesticated. One moment we’re battling demons and next, we’re lounging on the couch like a couple of teenagers on a lazy Sunday afternoon. 

Finally, after what feel like an eternity, Jace remerges from the bathroom, looking surprisingly innocent and boyish in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a graphic tee-shirt that I’m pretty sure is either mine or my brothers. His hair is still damp from the shower, tousled in a way that makes him look disarmingly handsome. Despite the exhaustion tech into his features, there’s a spark in his golden eyes that never fails to draw me in. 

Jace collapses onto the couch beside me, his head finding its place on my shoulder, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. His weight against me is comforting, like an anchor tethering me to reality amidst the chaos of our lives. I close my eyes, revelling in the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his breath against my skin.

As exhaustion finally catches up to him, his breathing evens out, lulling me into a sense of peace. I listen to the sound of his steady inhales and exhales, a gentle melody that soothes my restless mind. And as I drift off into sleep, I'm enveloped in the cocoon of his scent—sunshine and something uniquely Jace, mixed with the subtle fragrance of my shower products. It's a comforting aroma, one that fills me with a sense of belonging and contentment.

In the depths of slumber, I feel his warmth beside me, a constant presence that eases my fears and worries. But when I wake in the morning, he's gone, leaving behind only a hastily scrawled note on my coffee table. My heart sinks as I read his words, explaining that Alec called him in early for paperwork and debriefing on the previous day's hunt.

Despite the pang of disappointment at his absence, I can't help but smile at the thought of him, out there in the world, fighting alongside his fellow Shadowhunters. And as I rise to start the day, I carry with me the memory of his presence, the echo of his warmth lingering in the air like a promise of his return.

Part Two

I awake to a crashing and the grumbled cry of Jace, my panic immediately vanishing at the sound of his voice. My phone reads 7.03pm and I’m realising my nap was longer than I had planned or anticipated, having tried to stay awake for Jace who had messaged me to say he’d be home in time for dinner. 

As I groggily process the situation, something within me stirs at the realisation Jace used the word “home” to describe my place. It’s a simple word, but coming from him, it carries a weight that sends a flutter through my un-beating heart. I push aside the covers and pull myself sleepy from bed, feeling the fabric of a shirt that definitely isn’t mine brush against my skin as it reaches mid-thigh. 

Shuffling towards the kitchen, I’m met with the sight and smell of chaos. Jace is in the midst of a culinary disaster, his brow furrowed in frustration as he grumbles to himself. The scent of burning food fills the air, assaulting my sensitive vampire senses, But despite the mess and the mishap, there’s something oddly endearing about the scene—the way Jace is so determined to make dinner for us, even if it means nothing is going according to plan. 

As I approach him, I can’t help but smile at the sight of him, his hir tousled and his expression a mix of annoyance and determination. Despite the chaos, there a sense of warmth and familiarity in the air, a feeling of him that I’ve come to associate with him. 

I head straight for the fridge to grab fresh ingredients as soon as I get the gist of what he was trying to make by the minced meat and the spaghetti, catching the way he looks at me. There’s a softness in his gaze, a silent appreciation for my presence and the way I effortlessly step in to salvage the situation. But when I reach for the pasta sauce, Jace stops me, holding up a jar of red liquid. 

My heart tries to burst out of my chest when I realise what it is. Jace wasn’t just trying to make dinner for us; he was trying to recreate a meal I loved as a human, altered for my now vampire self. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes about his thoughtfulness and the depth of his care for me. 

“Raphael said it was the best of the best and told me how to prepare it so it doesn’t…” Jace waves his hands around trying to think of the word Raphael used, “Separate?” 

I can’t help but laugh softly at the face Jace makes as he says the word ‘separate’. It’s moments like these that remind me of just how endearing he can be, even when he’s trying his best to navigate unfamiliar territory like helping a vampire like me. 

Stepping closer to him, I wrap my arms around him in a hug, feeling the tension in his muscles as he hesitates before finally relaxing enough to return the embrace. His strong arms wrap around me, pulling me close as he buries his face in my hair. In the moment, with the scent of blood and spices lingering in the air and the warmth of Jace’s embrace surrounding me, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for the man standing in front of me. 

Reluctantly, Jace finally lets me go, suggesting we try cooking again. As I try to assist him, he’s suddenly spinning me back to face and him and gripping my waist in his strong hands, lifting me and sitting me on a clean area of the counter top, “You’re to just sit there and look pretty while I work this out.” He says with a smirk, a hint of redness colouring his cheeks. 

I can’t help but let out the most embarrassing giggle at his sudden shyness, feeling a warmth spread through me at his playfulness. As I watch him move around the pitch with practiced ease, a sense of contentment washes over me. Despite the chaos and mishaps, being here with Jace feels like home. 

And as I sit on the counter, watching him cook, I cant’t help but feel grateful for moments like these—simple, ordinary, mundane moments that remind me of what I could have had when human. Surrounded by the warmth and aroma of our makeshift meal and Jace’s soft humming as he cooks, I know that no matter what challenges may come our way, as long as we have each other, we'll always find a way to make it through.

Part Three

The library is quiet as I slip inside, the familiar scent of old books and parchment greeting me like an old friend. Alec had given me permission to use the Institute as a safe haven whenever I like, and I often find myself wandering towards the library. It’s become my sanctuary, a place where I can escape the weird world I’m now a part of and lose myself in the pages of novels and histories. 

As I roam the aisles, my fingers trailing along the spines of countless books, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. The library is a treasure trove of knowledge, and I’ve made it my mission to learn as much as I can about the Shadowhunter world. I immerse myself in the histories of the Clave, learning about the battles fought and the heroes who rose to prominence, the history of the main families in this world. 

Eventually, I pick a book off the shelves, one that Alec had actually recommended to me during one of our conversations. It’s a thick volume filled with tales of Shadowhunter lore, and I can’t wait to delve into its pages. With a contented sigh, I sink into one of the soft loveseats scattered throughout the massive library, feeling eh weight of the book in my hands as I lose myself in the pages. 

For the rest of the afternoon, I’m lost in a world of magic and mystery, my surroundings fading away as I become immersed in the story unfolding before me. The hours pass in a blur, but in the moment, surrounded by the knowledge and history of the Shadowhunters, I feel a sense of belonging and purpose that I’ve been searching for since the day I was turned. 

My attention is momentarily drawn away from the pages of the book in my hand by the faint murmur of voices approaching. It takes a moment but I’m recognising the voices, the cadence of their speech familiar to me even from a distance with my new hearing abilities. But it’s the sound of the library door opening that truly captures my attention, and when I look up, my heart skips a beat at the sight of a familiar blonde figure standing in the doorway. 

Jace. 

His golden eyes scan the room, searching, until they land on me. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his features in a way that never fails to make my heart flutter like it’s still beating, “There you are, Mouse,” He greets, using the stupid pet name he’s decided for me, “You weren’t at home.” 

As he strides over, my attention is captivated by the way his muscles ripple beneath the fabric of his tight black shirt, each movement a testament to his strength and grace. My pulse would be skyrocketing if it could, and I can feel a flush from the recent blood I drank creeping its way up my neck as he stops in front of me, his presence commanding and magnetic. 

“Hey Jace,” I manage to say, voice betraying the flutters of excitement I feel within me. 

He smirks, golden eyes dancing with amusement as if he knows what he’s doing to me, “What were you doing here all alone?” He asks, tone teasing yet filled with genuine curiosity. 

I just shrug, attempting to maintain an air of casualness despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within me, “Just needed the quiet.” I reply, my voice soft. 

He nods in understanding, his expression softening as he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The simple gesture sending a shiver down my spine, igniting a rush of sensations that I struggle to contain. His proximity, his touch—it's all too much, and yet not enough.

“Hey, listen,” He says, his voice warm and inviting, “We’re all heading to the Hunter’s Moon to hear Simon sing, You wanna join us?” 

The thought of being surrounded by so many voices, sounds and smells—the overwhelming sensory overload—has me shuddering involuntarily. I feel a knot form in my stomach, a wave of anxiety washing over me at the mere thought of venturing out into the bustling world beyond the quiet of the Institute currently. 

With a shaky breath, I shake my head almost aggressively, “No, I think I’ll pass.” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, “I’m… I’m not really in the mood for crowds tonight.” 

Jace nods in understanding, his expression sympathetic, “Hey, that’s okay,” He reassures me, his voice gentle, and he’s surprising me by leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, “You do what feels right for you. But if you ever change your mind, we’ll be there.” 

I offer him a weak smile, grateful for his understanding, “Thanks Sunshine.” I murmur, the weight of my anxiety slowly easing with his words of reassurance and his sweet actions. 

As Jace turns to leave, I watch him go, feeling a sense of longing wash over me like a gentle tide. His departure leaves an ache in my chest, a yearning for something more, something I can't quite name. But then, I feel the lingering warmth of his kiss on my cheek, a fleeting touch that sends a jolt of electricity through me.

Despite my reluctance to join them, a part of me wishes I could be there, sharing in the camaraderie and laughter with Jace and the others. The thought of being by his side, laughing and joking like we always do, fills me with a bittersweet longing. 

In the moment, as I sit alone in the quiet solitude of the library, the whole interaction feels strangely domesticated, as if it’s something we’ve done a thousand times before. Jace’s kiss was casual yet intimate, like it was a natural extension of our friendship, and yet it leaves me yearning for more. 

I can’t help but replay the moment in my mind, the sensation of his lips against my cold skin, the warmth of his touch. It’s a memory I want to hold onto, to savour and cherish, and yet it only serves to deepen my desire for him. 

As I sink back into the soft cushions of the loveseat, the ache in my chest lingers, a constant reminder of the feelings I can’t shake. I want him to kiss me again, to make me feel alive in a way I never thought possible. And as I close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh, I know that despite the risks and uncertainties, I can't deny the pull he has on my undead heart.

Part Four

I honestly have no idea how I ended up in the training room with Jace but I definitely know how I ended up on my ass glaring up at his laughing figure. Jace decided that he was going to teach me how to defend myself as Alec wants downworlders to help Shadowhunters on patrols to bridge the gap that had formed since Valentine. 

So here I am, climbing to my feet and glaring at Jace who readies himself for another round and my body is already aching. Jace is already readying himself for another round, and I steel myself for the onslaught, determined to at least make him break a sweat. As he lunges at me, I use my vampire speed to dodge and jab him in the back with my elbow with precision. But before I can revel in the small victory, he’s already spinning around and swiping my feet out from underneath me again. 

I hit the ground with a frustrated grunt, the air would have been knocked out of me if I were still breathing. I let out a sound of pure annoyance as I lie there, staring up at the ceiling, feeling so goddamn angry that I haven’t managed to get Jace down once. 

“Come on, Mouse,” Jace says, offering me a hand up, “You’re getting better, I promise.” 

I take his hand and pull myself to my feet yet again, but the weight of defeat still hangs heavy on my shoulders. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to measure up to Jace's level of skill and agility. It's frustrating, disheartening even, to constantly fall short despite my best efforts.

With a heavy sigh, I get back into position, expecting Jace to do the same but instead a small gasp is drawn from me when I feel his body practically pressed to my back as he adjusts my positioning. I feel a rush of warmth as he nudges my feet into a better position and adjusts my arms, guiding them a little higher. 

His touch is firm yet gentle, his hands moving with practiced precision as he adjusts my stance. And then, his hands fall to my hips, twisting them slightly to improve my balance before he steps back, satisfied with his work. 

I’m left standing there, the lingering sensations of his touch sending a shiver down my spine. Despite the lack of a heartbeat or any physical sensations, I can’t deny the way he makes me feel. Safe. Protected. As if, just for a moment, the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders and I can simply be. 

With a renewed determination, I square my shoulder and focus on the task at hand. As we being sparring again, I find myself moving with a newfound confidence, each strike more precise than the last. And then, miraculously, it happens—I actually manage to get Jace down for once. 

I just watch in disbelief as he hits the ground, a surprised laugh escaping him as he looks up at me with sparkling eyes. In the moment, his laughter is like music to y ears, lighthearted. As Jace lies there, sprawled on the ground with a grin that could light up the room, I can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. His boyish charm and playful energy are infectious, making me forget for a moment that we're supposed to be training. But as he starts to rise, that cocky smirk forming on his lips, I know the challenge isn't over yet.

With a twinkle in his eyes, he beckons me forward, goading me to try again. His confidence is palpable, almost tangible in the air between us. And I, of course, take the bait, eager to prove myself once more. 

But, as I unleash my vampire strength and speed, throwing my self into the spar with all I’ve got, I quickly realise that Jace has activated both runes, his agility now matching mine. His speed rune makes him a formidable opponent, dodging and waving with ease, always one step ahead. 

In the blink of an eye, he’s behind me, sweeping my feet out from under me with a swift motion. I feel the ground rushing up to meet me, but my reflexes kick in instinctively. As I tumble backwards, I grab onto Jace’s shirt, pulling him down with me. 

We land in a tangled heap, laughter bubbling up between us as we lie there, catching our breath. For a moment, time seems to stand still, the world around us fading away until it's just the two of us, tangled together on the ground. I can smell how sweet and like sunshine Jace’s blood smells in his veins and feel the way his heart is pounding as he buries his face in my neck. 

And in the moment, I realise just how much I enjoy being with him, the easy camaraderie and undeniable chemistry between us, making me, again, realise just how domesticated we are with each other. 

Part Five

The rain is coming down so hard it’s bordering on hail and as overwhelming as my senses are, the sound of it hitting the windows of my apartment is actually very comforting. Jace is in the shower again, coming back from another demon nest hunt and he’s told me he ordered pizzas on his way home as he invited the others around to jin us for the movie night before he jumped in the shower. 

As grateful as I am for his presence, a flicker of anxiety creeps into my mind at the thought of the others joining us. Alec and Magnus have always been welcoming, their easygoing nature together putting me at ease from the start. But Simon and Clary, lost in their own bubble of love, often seem oblivious to anyone around them nowadays, especially me their childhood friend. And Izzy.. well, Izzy can get anyone she wants with a bat of her eyelashes has me a little jealous. 

As I wait for Jace to emerge from the shower, the sound of the rain drumming against the window grows louder, echoing the turmoil of my thoughts. I find myself questioning whether I’ll be able to navigate the dynamics of the evening, whether I’ll be able to hold my own amidst the company of the Shadowhunters and Downworlders that make up Jace’s inner circle. 

But then, as if sensing my apprehension, Jace appears, a towel draped casually around his waist and a smile lighting up his face. It’s as if time itself pauses for a moment, allowing me to drink in the sight before me. His presence is like a beacon of light in the dimly lit apartment, his golden eyes sparkling with warmth and mischief. With his damp hair tousled and his skin glistening with droplets of water, he looks every bit like an adonis, a vision of strength and beauty. 

The towel draped casually around his waist hangs dangerously low, teasingly revealing the beginnings of his happy trail. My gaze is drawn to the tantalising glimpse of skin, the curve of his hips, the sculptured muscles of his abdomen. It's a sight that leaves me breathless, a reminder of just how effortlessly attractive he is.

But it's not just his physical appearance that captivates me; it's the way he carries himself, with a confidence that borders on arrogance yet somehow remains endearing. His smile is like a beacon of warmth, infectious and irresistible, drawing me closer with its magnetic pull.

As he moves closer, the scent of his shower gel fills the air, a heady mixture of musk and citrus that sends a shiver down my spine. I find myself mesmerised by the play of light and shadow on his skin, the way the droplets of water cling to his body like liquid diamonds. He brushes a gentle kiss against my cheek, his touch reassuring in its familiarity, a warmth spreading through me, soothing the lingering traces of anxiety that had gripped me moments before. His touch is a familiar reassurance, grounding me to the present moment and easing the flutter of my nonexistent heartbeat. 

But before I can fully lose myself in the intimacy of the moment, a sharp knock at the door interrupts us, shattering the fragile bubble of privacy we’ve created. With a playful smack to Jace’s arm I stop him from heading to the door, “Go get some damn clothes on, I’ll answer it.” Before I’m striding over to answer the door, cheeks flushed with a heat that most likely betrays the intensity of my emotions. 

As I swing the door open, Jace is ducking into our room and I’m met with the amused gazes of Alec and Magnus, their eyebrows raised in teasing curiosity. Magnus’ playful smirk hints at the mischief dancing in his eyes, while Alec's expression is a mix of amusement and affection. 

Despite my embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable moment, I can't help but smile at the sight of them. Their presence is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the room and dispelling the tension that had threatened to linger.

Suppressing the urge to bury my burning cheeks in my hands, I offer them a sheepish grin, knowing they heard what I said through the door, hoping to deflect their teasing with a lighthearted remark. But as Magnus's eyebrow quirks suggestively, I know that my attempt at nonchalance has fallen short. So, with a sigh of resignation, I step aside to let them in, knowing that there's no use in trying to hide the flush that still colours my cheeks

As I step aside to let them in, Alec hands me a DVD with a knowing smile. I can’t help bit roll my eyes fondly at his choice—Dracula. It’s become somewhat of an inside joke between me and Jace so I just know Jace told him to bring it. But before I have a chance to protest, Magnus is interjecting, his tone unreadable as he tells me “I’m afraid the others won’t be joining us tonight,” 

But Magnus’ words cut through the light-hearted banter, his tone carrying an unexpected weight as he informs me of the absence of our other friends. A pang of disappointment courses through me, a subtle ache in my chest as I realise that Clary and Simon won't be joining us tonight. They were more than just friends—they were my childhood companions, the ones who had been there through thick and thin. Their absence feels like a tangible loss, a reminder of how much our lives have changed since those carefree days of youth.

As I put the DVD in and get it ready, sinking into the couch with a heavy heart, I can't help but feel a sense of longing for the comfort of their presence. But I push aside those feelings, focusing instead on the company of Alec and Magnus, who have become like family to me in their own right. 

I sink into the cushions, allowing Alec and Magnus to take the other couch as we wait for Jace to return with the pizzas. Despite the disappointment lingering in the air, there's a quiet camaraderie between us, a shared understanding that in times of need, we can always rely on each other.

As the anticipation of Jace's return hangs in the air, the sound of the door opening signals his arrival. He appears just in time to answer the door, a grin spreading across his face as he enters with pizzas in hand. The sight of him brings a flicker of warmth to my heart, dispelling the lingering disappointment of our missing friends. 

Jace sets the pizzas down on the table with a flourish, his presence injecting a sense of energy into the room. With a casual ease, he joins us on the couch, seamlessly sliding in beside me. Without a second thought, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me snugly into his side. The gesture both  comforting and familiar, a silent reassurance of his affection for me. I lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against mine as he adjusts the blanket to cover us both. It's a simple act, but it speaks volumes about the bond we share—a bond that transcends words and barriers, connecting us on a deeper level.

With the remote in hand, Jace settles back against the cushions, his gaze fixed on the screen as he starts the movie. As the opening credits roll, I feel a sense of contentment wash over me, grateful for the warmth of Jace's embrace and the company of friends who feel like family.

Despite the disappointments and challenges we may face, in this moment, surrounded by laughter and love, I know that we'll always have each other. And as we lose ourselves in the world of Dracula, I find solace in the simple pleasures of friendship and companionship, knowing that no matter what the future may hold, we'll face it together, as a team.

Plus One

I’m not really sure how it happened but one moment I’m walking home from a day at the coffee shop and the next I’m being thrown into a wall. A wave of disorientating pain washes over me, leaving me gasping for breath and struggling to make sense eo what just happened. My sense reel, the world spinning in a dizzying blur as I try to focus on what just hit me. 

For a terrifying moment, I’m convinced that this is it—that I’m facing my end, torn to shreds by whatever unseen force assaulted me. Panic claws at the edges of my consciousness, threatening to consume me as I brace for the final blow. 

But then, as suddenly as it began, the assault ceases, leaving me trembling and shaken in its wake, unable to heal as I’ve lost too much blood. Slowly, I stagger to my feet, the world still spinning around me as I struggle to regain my bearings.The realisation that I’ve lost too much blood to heal hits me like a physical blow, leaving me lightheaded and unsteady. Every step is a battle against the dizziness and weakness that threatens to overwhelm me, but I push forward with grim determination. 

With each faltering step, the distance to the institute feels impossibly far, unable to use vampire speed without passing out. Panic sets in as I realise that Jace, my lifeline, is at the Institute today, and he hasn’t called to tell me he’s on his way home. Fear grips me like a vice, squeezing the breath from my lungs as I struggle to keep moving forwards. 

The world around me blurs as I stumble out of the alleyway and into the desired streets. My vision swims, the darkness closing in around me as I fight to stay conscious. Each breath is a struggle, my lungs burning with exertion as I push my body beyond its limits. 

Time loses all meaning as I continue to trudge forwards my footsteps echoing in the empty silence of the night. The Institute looms in the distance like a beacon of hope, its towering walls offering the promise of safety and sanctuary. But with each passing moment, it feels as though I'm slipping further and further away, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.

Desperation claws at the edge of my consciousness as I force myself to keep moving, driven by the fear of what awaits me if I don’t reach the Institute in time. Every step is a battle against the darkness that threatens to engulf me, but I refuse to give up. 

With every ounce of strength I can muster, I push myself forward, determination fuelling my movements as I draw upon the last reserves of energy within me. As I approach the looming doors of the Institute, desperation spurs me to action, and I unleash the full force of my vampire speed. 

The doors fly open before me with a forceful momentum, swinging wide as if welcoming me home. But even as I breach the threshold, I trigger the wards surrounding the entrance, setting off alarms that echo through the empty halls. Before I can fully comprehend the situation, Jace appears before me, his weapon raised in a defensive stance. The sight of him, strong and unwavering, fills me with both relief and a sense of impending doom. I choke out his name, my voice barely a whisper as I struggle to remain upright. 

My knees give way beneath me, threatening to send me crashing to the unforgiving tiles below. But in the blink of an eye, Jace is there, his arms wrapping around me with lightning speed, catching me before I can hit the ground. The seraph blade clatters to the floor, forgotten in the urgency of the moment as Jace sinks us to the floor, cradling me in his arms, his eyes filled with concern and a hint of fear. I reach out to him, my fingers trembling as they brush against his cheek, a silent plea for reassurance. 

Despite my initial resistance, Jace's urgency is palpable, his wrist pressed insistently against my mouth as he pleads with me to drink. Fear courses through me as I shake my head, the thought of losing control terrifying me to the core. But as the scent of his blood fills my senses, a primal hunger takes hold, overpowering my rational thoughts. With a grip on my hair that borders on painful, Jace guides my mouth to the wound on his wrist, his other hand pressing against the back of my head. The taste of his blood is like nothing I've ever experienced before—warm and intoxicating, with a sweetness that rivals the warmth of the sun. 

As I drink, the fog that had clouded my mind begins to lift, clarity returning with each swallow. Guilt washes over me in waves, but I can't bring myself to stop. Jace's blood is a lifeline, grounding me in the present moment and soothing the ache of my wounds. I feed until I can feel the worst of the wounds stopping bleeding, my tongue lapping at the skin on Jace’s wrist to seal it shut. The taste of his blood lingering on my lips, a bittersweet taste. 

With a sigh of relief, I collapse against Jace's safe chest, my body trembling with exhaustion and relief. His touch is gentle yet firm, his hand cupping my jaw with a tenderness that tugs at my heartstrings. I feel his thumb under my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his, and as I look into those golden eyes, I see the raw emotion reflected in their depths.

Tears glisten in his eyes, a silent testament to the fear and concern he's been harboring for me. His voice is soft as he checks if I'm okay, the sound of it like a soothing balm to my battered soul. In that moment, I realise just how much he cares, how deeply he feels, and the thought fills me with a warmth that transcends the physical. 

As he leans down, his lips ghosting over mine with a hesitance that speaks volumes, I can feel the tension building between us, a palpable electricity that crackles in the air. My heart would be hammering in my chest, a rhythm that matches the erratic beat of his own. A small whine escapes my throat, a sound born of longing and need, and in that instant, his resolve crumbles. His lips crash against mine with a fervour that steals my breath away, a kiss so full of passion and intensity that it leaves me reeling. 

In that moment, I feel alive in a way I never have before, as if every nerve in my body is on fire with the intensity of his touch. It's as if he's breathing life back into me with each caress of his lips, each touch igniting a fire that burns brighter than the sun. 

“Maybe don’t almost die to act upon mutual feelings.” Jace is mumbling against my lips, earning a weak smack from me. 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” He retorts, kissing me softly once again. 

“Later I will.” 

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[the-ultimate-obsessive-fangirl]

Guys after this scene ⇩⇩⇩⇩

You aint telling me that Magnus didn't use his magic in the bedroom like seriously

[bookmauls]

I'm listening to Shadow Hunter again and Maul remembers reading about the Talzin (the weird invisible-in-the-force worm thingo) on an obscure holonet site.

I have to wonder if maul is a supermassive troll on socials. I mean Plagueis mentions he has fuck all to do when not tasked with a mission or training.

The only thing more terrifying than Maul is the combined powers of his social media footprint and his search history.

[vwritesaus]

It is no secret to anyone who knows him that Alastair Carstairs is an exceptional cook. Armed with the knowledge passed down from his mother and Risa, he felt it was his duty to keep the Persian traditions alive in their family, and the only way he felt comfortable doing it was through cooking. It was his escape when the piano keys felt slimy and sticky under his fingertips, and when his thumb and index fingers slowly became more and more smudged with ink stains from the mundane newspapers. Cordelia was the taste tester every time, no matter how burnt or salty or under seasoned his food was. He could trust her to give him an honest critique—and she always did, without preamble.       ‘Dadash, did you empty the entire Dead Sea into this? My tongue is burning.’       ‘Oh, this is better than last time! Just needs more chilli, it’s a bit on the mild side.’       ‘Alastair, this is extremely chewy. It’s meant to be softer, no?’       Though he would roll his eyes and pretend to be offended by every one of his sister’s comments, Alastair was glad for it all. It was their little pocket of solidarity in an otherwise distant relationship. Alastair’s own doing, of course, but he felt it necessary at the time.       He was four years old when he first showed an interest, according to Sona. By eleven, Alastair was comfortable enough to cook a couple of simple dishes without any help. By fifteen, he was a self-proclaimed master. Yes, he made mistakes sometimes—as all good cooks do—but he knew his way around a kitchen, just as Cordelia knew her way around Cortana. Naturally it was something he kept to himself: if he had disclosed to any of the boys who bullied him at the Shadowhunter Academy that he, a male, loved and knew how to cook, and was taught how to by the women in his life, it would have given them yet another few reasons to belittle and assault him.       Being his father’s son and a boy with darker skin was already too many reasons. So Alastair kept his passion quiet, known only to his mother, his sister, and Risa. He’s sure Elias never knew, for if he had, Alastair is certain he would have put a stop to it somehow. All it took was one remark to have Alastair give up and push it down. His love for piano and singing, for instance.       But Alastair and Cordelia made it a regular occurrence to take over the kitchen and get under Risa’s feet, in her words. He cherishes those memories, where flour would coat the front of his waistcoat and parts of Cordelia’s hair, and the fragrant aroma of cinnamon, cardamom and clove would fill the entire room alongside their laughter. They were just some of the good things he held onto whilst at the Academy.       But the Academy days are no more, and Elias’s domineering presence has fizzled out through fire and ash. Alastair is free to do whatever he wants to do and be whoever he wants to be, and cooking is only a part of it.

continue reading on ao3

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well well, it has been a long time, hasn't it??

but here i am, back for good hopefully!! and with a wee fic i wrote for my bestest girl @drunkonimagination for her birthday back in july ✨ it's based on one of our first interactions together before we hit the dms and the hill i will die on that is alastair carstairs is great at cooking but a terrible baker. only just got around it posting it jkahdjasd. hope you all enjoy it, and i'll be back with some more fics soon!!

also pls ignore the title, it's the best thing i could come up with :')

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tagging people who might be interested: @edwinspaynes @purplebass @angeldaisies @faithfromanewperspective @tessherongraystairs @celias

let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!