#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❤❤

[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

[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“.

[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

~

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 :')

~

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!!

[buckslafdhoodie]

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……

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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]

Broken Showers Aren't All Bad - Alec Lightwood x female reader

Summary: You use Alec's shower as yours is broken

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

As I stumble back to the institute, my muscles aching and my clothes stained with sweat and demon ichor, I can’t help but feel a sense of exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders. The fight against the shax demons had been relentless, each blow and dodge taking its toll on my body and spirit. 

Dragging myself to my room, I’m grateful for the ensuite bathroom, the promise of a hot shower offering a small sliver of comfort amidst the chaos and danger that constantly surrounds us. But as I step into the shower and turn on the water, my relief quickly turns to frustration as the pipes splutter and the flow of water comes to an abrupt halt, leaving me standing there in disbelief.

With a groan of frustration, I pound my fist against the tiled wall, feeling a surge of pent-up anger and exhaustion bubbling to the surface. It's the last straw in a long line of setbacks and challenges, and I can't help but feel like I'm at the end of my rope. They said they had fixed my shower earlier today but it’s still fucked.

Desperate for a solution, I run through a mental checklist of every member of our group, trying to determine who might be willing to let me use their shower. Clary and Jace are out of the question—they're probably lost in each other's embrace, lost in their own world of love and passion. And Izzy, well, she doesn't know the meaning of privacy, likely to barge in without warning at any given moment.

That leaves Alec—the one person in our group who values his privacy above all else. It's a long shot, but I'm left with no other choice, especially as he’s out on a mission currently. 

As I tiptoe through the dimly lit corridors of the Institute, my heart races with anticipation and a tinge of nervousness. I know I shouldn't be doing this, sneaking into Alec's room while he's away on a mission, but my own shower has been malfunctioning for days, and I can't stand the thought of going another day feeling unkempt.

The door to Alec's room creaks softly as I push it open, praying that no one hears. Stepping inside, I quickly make my way to the bathroom, feeling a rush of relief wash over me as I shut the door behind me. The warm steam soon envelops me as I strip off my clothes and throw my towel aside, longing for the hot water. 

As I step into Alec's shower, the warmth envelops me like a comforting embrace, easing the tension that had been coiled tightly in my muscles. The steam fills the small space, wrapping around me like a gentle cloud, washing away the lingering remnants of fear and adrenaline from the encounter with the shax demons.

I close my eyes, letting the water cascade over me, each droplet a soothing caress against my skin. The scent of Alec's shampoo and soap fills the air, a familiar and comforting aroma that helps to ground me in the present moment.

With each passing second, the tension begins to melt away, replaced by a sense of relaxation and relief. The hot water works its magic, easing the ache in my limbs and soothing the bruises that litter my body from the fight. 

I tilt my head back, letting the water cascade over my face, feeling the weight of the day's events slowly lift from my shoulders. In this moment, there is nothing but the sensation of warmth and cleanliness, a temporary reprieve from the chaos and danger that constantly surrounds us. 

As I stand under the warm cascade of water in Alec's shower, a sense of tranquility washes over me, momentarily banishing the worries and fears that had plagued me earlier. But as the sound of footsteps approaches the door, my heart lurches in my chest, and panic sets in like a suffocating wave.

Alec’s footsteps are unmistakable—steady and purposeful, devoid of the usual warmth or joviality. My mind races with the worst-case scenarios, imagining his stern expression and sharp reprimands as he discovered me here, intruding upon his private space and using his stuff. 

With trembling hands, I reach for the shower curtain, hastily pulling it closed around me as if it could shield me from the impending confrontation. My breath comes in shallow gasps, the steamy air feeling suddenly stifling as I await Alec's inevitable discovery.

The moment the bathroom door creaks open, my heart feels as though it’s lodged in my throat, and I shrink back against the tiled wall, desperately trying to make myself as small as possible on instinct. Through the opaque curtain, I can vaguely make out Alec’s silhouette, his presence looming like an impending storm. 

“Who’s there?” His voice pierces through the heavy silence, sharp and authoritative, sending a shiver down my spine. 

I swallow hard, my throat feeling dry and constricted. "It's me," I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper, my words muffled by the fabric of the curtain. 

Alec’s footsteps draw nearer, and I can feel the weight of his gaze boring into me, even through the barrier of the shower curtain. Every nerve in my body is on high alert, bracing for the inevitable backlash of his discovery. 

“What are you doing here?" His voice carries a note of incredulity, mixed with a hint of confusion.

I bite my lip, my mind scrambling for an explanation, any excuse that could possibly justify my presence here. "My shower... it's broken," I stammer out, my words coming out in a rushed tumble, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

There’s a moment of tense silence, broken only by the sound of water cascading from the showerhead. I brace myself for Alec's anger, fully expecting a sharp rebuke for my audacity. 

But, to my surprise, when Alec finally speaks, his voice carries a note of understanding, his tone softer than I had anticipated. "Well, I suppose you can finish up here," he says, his words tinged with a hint of amusement.

Relief floods through me like a tidal wave, and I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in my muscles slowly begin to ebb away. 

As I finish my shower, hastily drying off with a fluffy towel, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as I realise my oversight—I forgot to bring clean clothes with me. With a frustrated sigh, I wrap the towel tightly around my body, hoping it provides at least some semblance of modesty as I prepare to face the inevitable embarrassment of leaving Alec's bathroom in just my towel.

Steeling myself for the inevitable, I take a deep breath and push open the bathroom door, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I step into the room beyond. My eyes dart nervously around the familiar surroundings, searching for any sign of Alec's presence.

And then,  I see him—standing by the window, his back turned to me, his gaze focused intently on something outside. Relief floods through me at the sight, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the awkwardness of the situation.

But as if sensing my presence, Alec turns, his eyes widening in surprise as they travel the length of my body, lingering for a moment longer than is strictly necessary. A flush of crimson creeps into his cheeks, and he quickly averts his gaze, clearing his throat in a feeble attempt to disguise his embarrassment. "Uh, sorry," he mumbles, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes fixed resolutely on the floor. "I didn't realise you were... uh... here.”

I swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to my own cheeks as I struggle to find the right words to break the awkward silence that hangs between us. "I, uh... forgot to bring clean clothes," I mumble sheepishly, feeling like a fool for my forgetfulness.

Alec nods awkwardly, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush. "Right," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Well, um... I can, uh, go get you something to wear... if you want.”

Instead of leaving the room to head to mine he moves to his chest of drawers, searching for something for me to wear. I feel a mix of gratitude and nervous anticipation, never expecting Alec to share his clothes with me let alone his shower. When he returns with a black t-shirt in hand, I accept it with a grateful smile, clutching it tightly against my chest as I wait for him to realise that he needs to turn away.

For a moment, Alec seems to falter, his gaze lingering on me expectantly until the realisation dawns on him. With a slight cough, he quickly averts his eyes, turning away to give me the privacy I need to pull the shirt over my head. As I slide the shirt on, I'm struck by how it drapes loosely over my frame, reaching down to mid-thigh and resembling more of a short dress than a typical t-shirt. The fabric is soft against my skin, imbued with Alec's scent, a comforting reminder of his presence.

When Alec finally turns back around, his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of me in his shirt, his gaze lingering on the way it hugs my curves and falls to the length of my thighs. A faint blush creeps into his cheeks once again, but this time, there's a hint of something else in his expression—a mixture of admiration and something deeper, more intimate.

"You, uh, look good in that," he stammers out, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes flickering uncertainly as they meet mine.

I can't help but smile at his awkward attempt at a compliment, feeling a warmth spread through me at the genuine sincerity in his words. "Thanks," I reply softly, feeling a flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach at the realisation that Alec's gaze lingers on me a moment longer than necessary, his eyes filled with a warmth that sends a shiver down my spine.

As I stand there in Alec's room, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, I can't shake the feeling of reluctance that settles in the pit of my stomach. Despite the lingering warmth of Alec's gaze and the newfound connection between us, I know that I can't stay here forever.

With a soft sigh, I muster up the courage to break the silence, clearing my throat awkwardly as I glance towards the door. "I should probably get back to my room," I say softly, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

Alec nods in understanding, his expression unreadable as he steps aside to let me pass. "Yeah, of course," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

As I make my way towards the door, a pang of regret washes over me, aching in my chest like a physical weight. Part of me had hoped that Alec would stop me from leaving, that he would reach out and pull me back into his embrace, unwilling to let me go.

But as I glance back over my shoulder, Alec's expression remains stoic and unreadable, his gaze fixed resolutely on the floor. With a heavy heart, I push open the door and step out into the hallway, the sound of it closing behind me echoing in the silence.

As I return to my room, the echoes of Alec's presence still lingering in my mind, I quickly slip on a pair of panties before reaching for the black t-shirt he lent me. With a momentary pang of guilt, I peel off the shirt, feeling a sense of loss as I momentarily remove the comforting fabric from my skin.

But the need for cleanliness overrides my reluctance, and I hastily pull on a clean bra before slipping Alec's shirt back over my head, the familiar fabric enveloping me once again in its warmth. Bringing the collar to my nose, I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of Alec that lingers there, a mixture of soap and sweat and something uniquely him.

Lost in the comforting embrace of Alec's shirt, I'm startled by a sudden knock at my door, the sound jolting me back to reality. Swinging the door open, expecting to see Izzy, my breath catches in my throat as it’s Alec standing there instead. His expression is wrought with anxiety and before I can even utter a word of inquiry, he closes the gap between us in two swift strides, his hands reaching out to cup my face in a surprisingly gentle yet urgent grip. 

The world seems to tilt on its axis as Alec's lips crash against mine, stealing the breath from my lungs and sending my heart into a frenzied rhythm. His kiss is passionate and breathless, a whirlwind of emotions and desires unleashed in a single moment of raw vulnerability. 

I'm momentarily stunned, my mind struggling to catch up with the sudden turn of events. But as Alec's lips move fervently against mine, a surge of warmth floods through me, melting away any doubts or reservations I may have had.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him closer, losing myself in the intoxicating sensation of his touch. His hands are rough and calloused against my skin, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips as they trail a fiery path along my jawline and down my neck.

In that moment, there is nothing else but Alec and me, lost in the dizzying whirlwind of passion and longing. The world outside fades away, replaced by the electric intensity of our connection as we become entangled in each other's embrace.

And as Alec finally pulls away, his chest heaving with exertion, I'm left breathless and exhilarated, a million thoughts and emotions swirling through my mind. “Do it again,” I s all I can breathe, Alec’s response immediate and impassioned. With a hunger that matches my own, he presses me against the nearest wall, his lips claiming mine with a fervour that leaves me dizzy with desire. In that moment, it feels as though we're the only two people in the world, lost in the intensity of our connection.

His hand finds its way to my bare thigh beneath his shirt, hitching my leg around his waist, pulling me impossibly closer as if he can't bear to be apart from me even for a moment longer. The sensation of his touch sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. Every caress, every kiss feels like an affirmation of the bond between us, a silent promise of things to come.

But our stolen moment of passion is abruptly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat. Reluctantly, we break apart, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we turn to find Izzy standing in the doorway of my room, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"Welllllll" she says, her voice laced with amusement. “Sorry to interrupt this but I need to steal Y/N,” she adds with a wink, "you two can continue this later. Preferably with the bedroom door closed this time.”

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position, burying my face in Alec’s shirt who's gaze remains unwavering as he meets Izzy's teasing grin with a smirk of his own.

“Later Izzy," he replies smoothly, his tone laced with amusement. “10 more minutes.”

With that Izzy snorts and closes the door on her way out, a fond smile on her face and Alec pulling me into his arms, a hug that has me nuzzling into the crook of his neck not sure what this is between us. 

“I never thought I’d be happy about a broken shower.” 

“Me neither.”

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[loki-nightfire]

New art on b🌝🌝sty

sappy and romantic and decent (wow!) + teeny-tiny, but very sweet drabble by Mikkyhunting (ao3)

P.s. planning on not so decent art for Magnus' birthday, be prepared 🦁

Teaser ☝️

[the-ultimate-obsessive-fangirl]

Guys after this scene ⇩⇩⇩⇩

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

[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