Fan incondicional de la maravillosa Taylor Swift, lectora empedernida. Escribo por encargo, vaya....eso suena a anuncio de pescaderia... bueno, si queréis cualquier fic, ya sea de Harry Potter, Mortal Instruments, Percy Jackson, Hunger Games, etc.... SOLO TENÉIS QUE PEDÍRMELO. Ah, se me olvidaba decir que cuando me aburro también hago pequeños momentos de nuestros queridos personajes.

 

Anonymous asked
hi; i was wondering if you have any tips when it comes to writing? ps: i love all your stories, especially the sizzy and clace ones (fluff and smut) keep writing them :))

Well, first of all, thank you! I’m really happy you like the drabbles, I’m grinning like an idiot right now :))))

If I’m being honest, I have two techniques to write. The first one, lets say A (not A from pretty little liars, at least I hope so XD) is the one I use when I write long fics, because if I didn’t do that I would get really confuse, and the second one, B, is the one I use when I write drabbles or one-shots.

Lets start with A. When I start a long fic the first thing that happens is that a idea pops to my mind. It can be anything, it doesn’t really matter, and when it happens I inmediately write the idea on a paper. I don’t look at it again ‘till four or five days later, and when I do, I change little things that maybe that day seemed to be okay but it doesn’t feel like it anymore, and once I have the main idea, I start to develop the characters personality and background, I usually have a full page of information and different scene ideas about every character, and when I finally have this solved I sit in front of the computer and I start typing. Usually I have very clear what I want to happen in every chapter, but if I don’t, I usually change the POV a lot, in order to find a character that gives me an idea.

And lets talk about B. This is the one I use when I have to write prompts or just short things. I sit in front of the computer and I have absolutely no idea what I’m gonna do, but suddenly a phrase to start pops to my mind and then I try to get an idea for the last line too, and I use this to guide the drabble in the direction I want.

Well, I don’t know if I helped you or not, but if you want to write something I recommend you to listen to music that appeals to the story, and the kind of music that relaxes the most and helps to concentrate is probably jazz or blues ;)

"Just relax"

Jason cleared his throat. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and grabbed Nico’s hand. Who would have thought he would be more nervous about this than Nico, but the younger boy seemed pretty relaxed.

"Are you ready?" Jason asked.

"Yep, let’s do this." replied the black haired boy with a sweet smile.

Jason opened the door to the livingroom where he found his friends, his ex-girlfriend and Thalia. He walked into the livingroom with Nico behind him.

"So, I want to introduce you to, ehm, Nico" Jason gripped Nico’s hand tighter and waited for an answer.

"Jason, sorry to say this, but we already know Nico" replied Percy with a smirk, earning him a punch from Annabeth.

"No, I mean as my boyfriend" said the blonde in a low voice.

"Oh,well that’s surprising," Percy said. 

He walked to Nico to shake his hand as if they hadn’t met before. Nico smiled and that made Jason smile too. After that, Hazel brought Jason in a hug and hugged Nico too. Then Thalia also shook Nico’s hand and looked him dead in the eye.

"Don’t hurt my little brother, dear cousin"

Nico shook his head quickly. He gulped and looked at her. She had always scared him, but now it was even worse “I won’t, promise.”

Thalia smiled warmly and walked back to her spot on the couch.

Jason turned to Nico and hugged him. He giggled and walked to the couch to sit down. Nico was about to sit next to him on a chair when Jason tugged on his hand and pulled him into his lap. He pressed his chest against Nico’s back and pressed a kiss on the nape of the boy’s neck.

"Hey, no sex on the couch!" they heard Percy complain next to them.

Nico giggled and leaned back against Jason. He felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach as the blonde guy wrapped his arms even tighter around him.

"Just relax"

Jason cleared his throat. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and grabbed Nico’s hand. Who would have thought he would be more nervous about this than Nico, but the younger boy seemed pretty relaxed.

"Are you ready?" Jason asked.

"Yep, let’s do this." replied the black haired boy with a sweet smile.

Jason opened the door to the livingroom where he found his friends, his ex-girlfriend and Thalia. He walked into the livingroom with Nico behind him.

"So, I want to introduce you to, ehm, Nico" Jason gripped Nico’s hand tighter and waited for an answer.

"Jason, sorry to say this, but we already know Nico" replied Percy with a smirk, earning him a punch from Annabeth.

"No, I mean as my boyfriend" said the blonde in a low voice.

"Oh,well that’s surprising," Percy said. 

He walked to Nico to shake his hand as if they hadn’t met before. Nico smiled and that made Jason smile too. After that, Hazel brought Jason in a hug and hugged Nico too. Then Thalia also shook Nico’s hand and looked him dead in the eye.

"Don’t hurt my little brother, dear cousin"

Nico shook his head quickly. He gulped and looked at her. She had always scared him, but now it was even worse “I won’t, promise.”

Thalia smiled warmly and walked back to her spot on the couch.

Jason turned to Nico and hugged him. He giggled and walked to the couch to sit down. Nico was about to sit next to him on a chair when Jason tugged on his hand and pulled him into his lap. He pressed his chest against Nico’s back and pressed a kiss on the nape of the boy’s neck.

"Hey, no sex on the couch!" they heard Percy complain next to them.

Nico giggled and leaned back against Jason. He felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach as the blonde guy wrapped his arms even tighter around him.

 ”What happened to you?”

To be fair, he’d tried really hard, he had been all day reading recipes and all in order to make it perfect for Alec.

But he was quickly learning there were a lot of things he hadn’t considered. And one of those things was Isabelle being the one helping him. As much as he loved his boyfriend’s sister, he should have asked someone else, like Clary o Smedley, okay, Simon, because they probably had done this before and knew exactly how to do it.

It was Alec’s birthday and Magnus had decided to make him breakfast. Eggs scrambled with cheese, bacon piled high, and toast coated liberally with butter. He arranged the food carefully on the plate, adding a few orange slices the way he’d seen on TV even though he knew Alec wouldn’t eat them. Picking up the plate and then the steaming mug of black coffee he’d poured, he walked out to the table where Alec sat. He set down the mug carefully and smiled at the blue eyed boy as the other man grinned up at him, trying to peer at the contents of the plate.

“Be patient, Alexander” Magnus said chidingly. He leaned forward to set down the plate at the same moment Alec reached forward to grab the mug. 

CRASH.

Their hands collided, spilling hot coffee over Alec’s fist and the plate clattering to the table, the breakfast Magnus had worked so hard to prepare falling into Alec’s lap. Magnus’ eyes widened in surprise as Alec picked up a napkin, quickly wiping the liquid from his hand before it burned him.

“I…I’m so sorry, Alexander…your birthday breakfast…” Magnus stammered in a whisper, trying to keep his eyes from filling with tears and failing miserably.

“Magnus, it’s okay,” Alec said. The warlock couldn’t speak again and simply shook his head miserably. Alec nodded. “It really is, don’t worry about it. I shoud’ve waited to grab the coffee.”

“No, it was my fault,” Magnus said softly. Alec looked at him for a minute, concern on his face. He stood up, ignoring the food that fell from his lap to the floor, manoeuvred his head until his eyes met Magnus’ ones, using their joined gaze to bring the other man’s head up.

“Hey, it’s okay. Thanks for making me breakfast.” Magnus didn’t respond, his eyes dropping again.

“Magnus” Alec said. Magnus’ eyes shot up at Alec’s use of his name. As soon as their eyes connected, Alec leaned forward and kissed him softly, briefly.

“Thank you.”

Magnus stared at him, a small smile coming to his lips, his stomach flipping and his brain thinking a better way to spend the day.

 ”What happened to you?”

To be fair, he’d tried really hard, he had been all day reading recipes and all in order to make it perfect for Alec.

But he was quickly learning there were a lot of things he hadn’t considered. And one of those things was Isabelle being the one helping him. As much as he loved his boyfriend’s sister, he should have asked someone else, like Clary o Smedley, okay, Simon, because they probably had done this before and knew exactly how to do it.

It was Alec’s birthday and Magnus had decided to make him breakfast. Eggs scrambled with cheese, bacon piled high, and toast coated liberally with butter. He arranged the food carefully on the plate, adding a few orange slices the way he’d seen on TV even though he knew Alec wouldn’t eat them. Picking up the plate and then the steaming mug of black coffee he’d poured, he walked out to the table where Alec sat. He set down the mug carefully and smiled at the blue eyed boy as the other man grinned up at him, trying to peer at the contents of the plate.

“Be patient, Alexander” Magnus said chidingly. He leaned forward to set down the plate at the same moment Alec reached forward to grab the mug.

CRASH.

Their hands collided, spilling hot coffee over Alec’s fist and the plate clattering to the table, the breakfast Magnus had worked so hard to prepare falling into Alec’s lap. Magnus’ eyes widened in surprise as Alec picked up a napkin, quickly wiping the liquid from his hand before it burned him.

“I…I’m so sorry, Alexander…your birthday breakfast…” Magnus stammered in a whisper, trying to keep his eyes from filling with tears and failing miserably.

“Magnus, it’s okay,” Alec said. The warlock couldn’t speak again and simply shook his head miserably. Alec nodded. “It really is, don’t worry about it. I shoud’ve waited to grab the coffee.”

“No, it was my fault,” Magnus said softly. Alec looked at him for a minute, concern on his face. He stood up, ignoring the food that fell from his lap to the floor, manoeuvred his head until his eyes met Magnus’ ones, using their joined gaze to bring the other man’s head up.

“Hey, it’s okay. Thanks for making me breakfast.” Magnus didn’t respond, his eyes dropping again.

“Magnus” Alec said. Magnus’ eyes shot up at Alec’s use of his name. As soon as their eyes connected, Alec leaned forward and kissed him softly, briefly.

“Thank you.”

Magnus stared at him, a small smile coming to his lips, his stomach flipping and his brain thinking a better way to spend the day.

"Give it back"

She smiles playfully at him and winks before crossing her legs, her eyes never leaving her boyfriend’s face, who tries in vain to concentrate on the film. Simon gulps and shooks his head. She was playing with his mind, like always, trying to distract him from what he was saying.

"Isabelle" he says with a firm voice "Stop it. You never play fair"

"Why should I?" asks the girl with a smirk.

"That’s not the point. Izzy, give me my glasses. Now" 

She laughs and looks at him amused. 

"And why should I do that? I really like to see your eyes"

"Sophia" that was how he called her when he got mad and it always made Isabelle smile"I would really appreciate it if you let me watch Spiderman" hisses the brown haired boy trought his teeth.

"Forget the glasses. I wanted to come to the theater to kiss you and make out with you, in a place we’d be likely to have some privacy for a while."

Simon can feel his eyebrows climbing back up his forehead. 

"You want to do that here? Why not the loft or the Institute?"

"Jeez, Si, we’re always getting interrupted in those places, by Alec usually. I’m tired of it. I’ve been keeping my eye on this revival, and there’s almost never anyone here. Those that do come are old. They won’t be paying any attention to us."

Simon is impressed with how much thought she had put into one of her plans. It made him feel…special.  

Turning to fully look at Isabelle, Simon licks his lips. “So, what are you waiting for then?”

Isabelle makes a comical look of surprise that Simon thinks is pretty cute. As if he’d ever turn down the chance to get Isabelle’s delicious mouth anywhere on his body the girl wanted.

Isabelle twists in her seat before sitting on Simin’s lap, gently reaches up and cups the side of Simon’s head and draws him in slowly for a kiss. He parts his lips and Isabelle takes the invitation and slips her tongue past the opening, licking over them once as if in reward.

Starting out slowly, she takes her time mapping the interior of Simon’s mouth with her tongue, and running it along the ridge of his teeth. When Simon’s tongue tangles softly with hers, they both let out a quiet moan.

Isabelle draws back and just brushes her lips over Simon’s, back and forth several times, before reaching out and capturing just the upper on between both of hers.

Humming a little in satisfaction, she drops down to the bottom one and gives it the same treatment. Except here, she draws the plumper lip into her mouth and bites down lightly.

Simon moans again at the tender assault to his mouth and reaches up to tangle his hand in Isabelle’s hair. Not to direct, but just because he likes the feel and wants the extra contact.

Gently, Isabelle disengages with her mouth, and starts pressing little kisses around Simon’s face, working her way over to an ear. She nibbles on an outer shell and then wraps her tongue around a lobe and sucks softly, at first.

Tilting his head to give Izzy better access, Simon smothers a moan when the girl takes the move as an invitation to lave her tongue down the column of his throat. When Isabelle gets to the shoulder, she starts back up, this time biting and sucking until she gets to the jaw.

Slowly, Isabelle bites along the strong jaw line, turning Simon’s head carefully as she does so, and aims for the other ear. When Simon realizes she intends to repeat what he’d just done he almost whimpers.

"Izzy? You’re killing me here. I’m already hard. If you don’t want us to get kicked out you should stop"

Isabelle growls against his jaw and looks at him.

"What about going to your flat to finish this" she interrupted him before he could say something "I know you want to see the film but I don’t think you are going to be able to concentrate on the film with that" says Isabelle watching Simon’s painful expresion.

"Okay, lets go"

"Oh, and by the way" she turns to look him getting up "Here are your glasses"

"You are impossible"

"I know"

"Give it back"

She smiles playfully at him and winks before crossing her legs, her eyes never leaving her boyfriend’s face, who tries in vain to concentrate on the film. Simon gulps and shooks his head. She was playing with his mind, like always, trying to distract him from what he was saying.

"Isabelle" he says with a firm voice "Stop it. You never play fair"

"Why should I?" asks the girl with a smirk.

"That’s not the point. Izzy, give me my glasses. Now"

She laughs and looks at him amused.

"And why should I do that? I really like to see your eyes"

"Sophia" that was how he called her when he got mad and it always made Isabelle smile"I would really appreciate it if you let me watch Spiderman" hisses the brown haired boy trought his teeth.

"Forget the glasses. I wanted to come to the theater to kiss you and make out with you, in a place we’d be likely to have some privacy for a while."

Simon can feel his eyebrows climbing back up his forehead.

"You want to do that here? Why not the loft or the Institute?"

"Jeez, Si, we’re always getting interrupted in those places, by Alec usually. I’m tired of it. I’ve been keeping my eye on this revival, and there’s almost never anyone here. Those that do come are old. They won’t be paying any attention to us."

Simon is impressed with how much thought she had put into one of her plans. It made him feel…special.

Turning to fully look at Isabelle, Simon licks his lips. “So, what are you waiting for then?”

Isabelle makes a comical look of surprise that Simon thinks is pretty cute. As if he’d ever turn down the chance to get Isabelle’s delicious mouth anywhere on his body the girl wanted.

Isabelle twists in her seat before sitting on Simin’s lap, gently reaches up and cups the side of Simon’s head and draws him in slowly for a kiss. He parts his lips and Isabelle takes the invitation and slips her tongue past the opening, licking over them once as if in reward.

Starting out slowly, she takes her time mapping the interior of Simon’s mouth with her tongue, and running it along the ridge of his teeth. When Simon’s tongue tangles softly with hers, they both let out a quiet moan.

Isabelle draws back and just brushes her lips over Simon’s, back and forth several times, before reaching out and capturing just the upper on between both of hers.

Humming a little in satisfaction, she drops down to the bottom one and gives it the same treatment. Except here, she draws the plumper lip into her mouth and bites down lightly.

Simon moans again at the tender assault to his mouth and reaches up to tangle his hand in Isabelle’s hair. Not to direct, but just because he likes the feel and wants the extra contact.

Gently, Isabelle disengages with her mouth, and starts pressing little kisses around Simon’s face, working her way over to an ear. She nibbles on an outer shell and then wraps her tongue around a lobe and sucks softly, at first.

Tilting his head to give Izzy better access, Simon smothers a moan when the girl takes the move as an invitation to lave her tongue down the column of his throat. When Isabelle gets to the shoulder, she starts back up, this time biting and sucking until she gets to the jaw.

Slowly, Isabelle bites along the strong jaw line, turning Simon’s head carefully as she does so, and aims for the other ear. When Simon realizes she intends to repeat what he’d just done he almost whimpers.

"Izzy? You’re killing me here. I’m already hard. If you don’t want us to get kicked out you should stop"

Isabelle growls against his jaw and looks at him.

"What about going to your flat to finish this" she interrupted him before he could say something "I know you want to see the film but I don’t think you are going to be able to concentrate on the film with that" says Isabelle watching Simon’s painful expresion.

"Okay, lets go"

"Oh, and by the way" she turns to look him getting up "Here are your glasses"

"You are impossible"

"I know"

"Make me"

Annabeth looked at him as if she couldn’t believe how her boyfriend was acting. Percy never argued anything with solid reasoning. Never. That was too much effort on his part. Not even when it came down to his personal well-being. Well, actually, she was lying if she said that. There’s one thing he argues with explanation. And that one thing? The argument of:

Cake versus pie.

"I’m telling you Annabeth" He countered, eyeing her sternly. "Pie is better because of flavor. You don’t have to slather it with fucking sugary coating to make it taste good. Now listen, I’m not saying frosting isn’t good and everything, but come on man, look at the facts!"

And then there was Annabeth, who didn’t give a fuck about the whole thing, all except for not wanting to let him win the argument. And wanting to change his mind.

"Like hell any of that was ‘fact’. Cake is a multi-dimensional sweet with physical layers you can dig into and observe. Pies are literally two things of bread with filling in between them you bake on high for forty-five minutes and eat right away. Cakes take time and you have to have passion for," she snapped back at him.

They were sitting in Blood-gulch, waiting for Leo to come in. It was late at night, but neither of them could sleep. It was too cold for Annabeth in the base and Percy was a finicky sleeper. So, at about one in the morning, they sat at the lake, decked out in pajamas, arguing about fucking pastries.

"Fuck your passion; I vote for be able to eat things right away. And even better, you can’t go wrong with pie. It’ll never be dry and never too sweet. Fucking cakes are loose cannons.” Although it was late, he was adamant about the whole thing and wide-awake to boot.

"Maybe when Leo comes in, we can ask him what he thinks, huh?" She tried to deadpan. Percy was silent for a long time, just smiling. He ran his unoccupied hand through his less-than-uniform hair, his eyes glinted with something she didn’t really liked.

 The fucker was going to say something; something well placed to get under her skin.

"So, if it bothers you so much…What’re you gonna do about it, kissass?" Annabeth’s thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. It wasn’t in her best interest to react to the tension as harshly as she did. He was trying to cause a reaction to it and she should have backed away. But, instead, she lurched forward. And Annabeth probably meant to hit him, sure, but something else came out of it. Something pretty awful.

Annabeth kissed him.

 The kiss didn’t last long and it was more an angry kiss than anything. But there she stood between his spread legs, kissing his mouth roughly, somehow  hitting her target. He only gave a surprised grunt, body jolted by the sudden contact. His fingers wrapped around her upper arms, pulling her away so he could give Annabeth an amused look. 

"Well-" Was all he managed before her lust-filled anger spewed into words.

"Shut up. Shut the fuck up. I don’t care whether you or I like cake or pie. You are the only thing I care about or like, Percy,” she mumbled so only he could hear. Annabeth’s eyes met his as a fearful gaze swept over him. “I hate you. I hate you so much I love you.”

Percy didn’t know how to react. What happened next was instinct. He pulled her in and kissed her, lightly, tenderly. Even if she hadn’t of wanted it, he’d probably just hold her there with his strong hands. However, that wasn’t the case as shevbrought her own hands up to cradle his face. When they pulled away, he smiled softly.

"So, babe, is this your defeat?" He snarked, letting her go. Annabeth grimaced sourly, standing straight."That pie is better than cake?" She sighed, although a small grin pulled at the corners of her lips.

"Shut up, asshole."

"Gotta kiss me again for me to do that."

"You rat bastard."

"I love you too."

"Make me"

Annabeth looked at him as if she couldn’t believe how her boyfriend was acting. Percy never argued anything with solid reasoning. Never. That was too much effort on his part. Not even when it came down to his personal well-being. Well, actually, she was lying if she said that. There’s one thing he argues with explanation. And that one thing? The argument of:

Cake versus pie.

"I’m telling you Annabeth" He countered, eyeing her sternly. "Pie is better because of flavor. You don’t have to slather it with fucking sugary coating to make it taste good. Now listen, I’m not saying frosting isn’t good and everything, but come on man, look at the facts!"

And then there was Annabeth, who didn’t give a fuck about the whole thing, all except for not wanting to let him win the argument. And wanting to change his mind.

"Like hell any of that was ‘fact’. Cake is a multi-dimensional sweet with physical layers you can dig into and observe. Pies are literally two things of bread with filling in between them you bake on high for forty-five minutes and eat right away. Cakes take time and you have to have passion for," she snapped back at him.

They were sitting in Blood-gulch, waiting for Leo to come in. It was late at night, but neither of them could sleep. It was too cold for Annabeth in the base and Percy was a finicky sleeper. So, at about one in the morning, they sat at the lake, decked out in pajamas, arguing about fucking pastries.

"Fuck your passion; I vote for be able to eat things right away. And even better, you can’t go wrong with pie. It’ll never be dry and never too sweet. Fucking cakes are loose cannons.” Although it was late, he was adamant about the whole thing and wide-awake to boot.

"Maybe when Leo comes in, we can ask him what he thinks, huh?" She tried to deadpan. Percy was silent for a long time, just smiling. He ran his unoccupied hand through his less-than-uniform hair, his eyes glinted with something she didn’t really liked.

 The fucker was going to say something; something well placed to get under her skin.

"So, if it bothers you so much…What’re you gonna do about it, kissass?" Annabeth’s thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. It wasn’t in her best interest to react to the tension as harshly as she did. He was trying to cause a reaction to it and she should have backed away. But, instead, she lurched forward. And Annabeth probably meant to hit him, sure, but something else came out of it. Something pretty awful.

Annabeth kissed him.

 The kiss didn’t last long and it was more an angry kiss than anything. But there she stood between his spread legs, kissing his mouth roughly, somehow hitting her target. He only gave a surprised grunt, body jolted by the sudden contact. His fingers wrapped around her upper arms, pulling her away so he could give Annabeth an amused look.

"Well-" Was all he managed before her lust-filled anger spewed into words.

"Shut up. Shut the fuck up. I don’t care whether you or I like cake or pie. You are the only thing I care about or like, Percy,” she mumbled so only he could hear. Annabeth’s eyes met his as a fearful gaze swept over him. “I hate you. I hate you so much I love you.”

Percy didn’t know how to react. What happened next was instinct. He pulled her in and kissed her, lightly, tenderly. Even if she hadn’t of wanted it, he’d probably just hold her there with his strong hands. However, that wasn’t the case as shevbrought her own hands up to cradle his face. When they pulled away, he smiled softly.

"So, babe, is this your defeat?" He snarked, letting her go. Annabeth grimaced sourly, standing straight."That pie is better than cake?" She sighed, although a small grin pulled at the corners of her lips.

"Shut up, asshole."

"Gotta kiss me again for me to do that."

"You rat bastard."

"I love you too."

Clary Fray is late. Clary is always late. Late for date night because there’s a call from her mom and she really has to take it. Late to home because Jace is bleeding on her couch. Late to meet people she doesn’t want to see because shadowhunters always have reasonable reasons to be late.

But she is not late like this. Not the kind of late where you count extra days on the calendar and hallucinate imaginary cramps. Not the kind of late where you stay up at night, debating what you will do and feeling guilty for already knowing the answer. That kind of late is for other women — women who are not careful and methodical in their planning, women who do not take their birth control religiously, women who are not daughter’s of Jocelyn.

"I’m late," she blurts. Date night is half over; there are cubes of cheese and slices of salami on the tray in front of them, the wine is good and indecently expensive and old — and fuck, she shouldn’t be drinking it.

Jace frowns and says, “So you got here ten minutes late. Big deal. Ten minutes is barely late in your time.”

Clary clenches her fingers around the glass of wine she’s no longer supposed to drink. “Not that kind of late, Jace.”

"But that happens, right?" Jace says, still implacable. "You’ve been under a lot of stress, back and forth to New York,  helping Magnus and Alec with their wedding, going out with Isabelle… You need a day off. You need a week off. Switzerland is nice this time of year, or Vanuatu…"

"No, Jace." Clary forces herself to breathe in and out slowly. "I am not stressed out. I do not need a vacation."

"All right," Jace says. "You need to be pee on a stick. I’ll get you a stick to pee on."

"What?" Clary is mad, suddenly very mad. "I tell you I could be pregnant, and all you have to say is go pee on a stick?"

"You’re angry," Jace says. It’s maddening, the way he states the obvious.

"Yeah, good call. I’m angry. This is the most terrified I have been in my entire life, and you act like it’s no big deal."

"So you’re mad because you’re frightened and I’m not?"

Clary clenches the wine glass tighter, and Jace pulls it gently from her hand. “You’re going to break that,” he says.

Clary breathes out slowly. “Yes, I am frightened. I’m only twenty years old and a shadowhunter. I don’t know if I want or what would I do if I was pregnant”

Jace’s hands are firm on her shoulders. “We’ll figure this out, Clary. We always figure things out. But first let’s see if there is something to figure out, okay?”

"Okay," she says.

They hold hands in the car on the way to the drug store. She feels calm until Jace starts talking. That happens a lot actually — she’s calm, and then Jace’s talking, and then the whole universe is about to explode.

"We could have baby," he starts. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, horrified but he continues, oblivious. "Baby Herondale. We could name him Ignatius."

"You named our baby. We don’t know if I’m pregnant and you know the name of our baby. And it’s Ignatius." Angel, she doesn’t know which of these things is worse.

"You don’t like it?" Jace asks. "Ignatius Vladimir, Vladimir Ignatius. It has a nice ring to it."

Clary buries her face in her hand. “Don’t talk. I beg you, please don’t talk.”

—-

The first test is negative. So is the second one, and the third one she’d insisted on taking just for good measure. She leans against Jace, breathes out slowly.

"Phew," she says.

"Phew," he echoes.

She looks up at him questioningly. “For awhile, you sounded like you wanted me to be pregnant.”

"No." His fingers twine through hers. "For the record, I am actually pretty relieved that you’re not. But if you were, we would have figured it out. You can figure out anything, Clary, and I will figure out anything I have to in order to be with you."

"That’s one of the better things you’ve ever said to me, actually. File it away for future use." She smiles, but on the inside she’s shaky. What she has to say next is big, big enough to have broken up a relationship before. "The thing is, Jace, I don’t ever want to figure out a baby. I don’t know what I will think in the future, but right now is a no"

"Okay," he says. He doesn’t look happy or disappointed, just…okay.

"That’s all?" She asks. "I tell you I’ll never have a baby, you’ll never be a father, and it’s okay?"

"Yeah. Whatever you want is okay. You want to have a baby, we’ll have a baby. It will be terrifying, actually, and require a frightening quantity of mature adult discussion, but we would do it. And if you won’t want to have a baby, it’s okay. What I owe you is exactly the life you want to have."

"That is also one of the better things you have ever said to me, and I will remember it and hold it over your head the next time you set the living room on fire with your thruster pack." She feels dizzy, her knees a little weak. Jace does that to her a lot actually, every time he’s perfect and she doesn’t expect it.

"I have one other request," she says. "Actually, no, not a request. Demand."

"You demand to have sex with me, right here, right now," Jace says, and Clary narrows her eyes. Jace blanches. "Alternatively, you would like to state your non-sexual demand in clear and explicit terms which I will listen to carefully and then obey."

"In the extremely unlikely event that you and I have a baby, you will have no say in the name. None whatsoever."

"Wise decision," he says. "It’s a deal."

Clary Fray is late. Clary is always late. Late for date night because there’s a call from her mom and she really has to take it. Late to home because Jace is bleeding on her couch. Late to meet people she doesn’t want to see because shadowhunters always have reasonable reasons to be late.

But she is not late like this. Not the kind of late where you count extra days on the calendar and hallucinate imaginary cramps. Not the kind of late where you stay up at night, debating what you will do and feeling guilty for already knowing the answer. That kind of late is for other women — women who are not careful and methodical in their planning, women who do not take their birth control religiously, women who are not daughter’s of Jocelyn.

"I’m late," she blurts. Date night is half over; there are cubes of cheese and slices of salami on the tray in front of them, the wine is good and indecently expensive and old — and fuck, she shouldn’t be drinking it.

Jace frowns and says, “So you got here ten minutes late. Big deal. Ten minutes is barely late in your time.”

Clary clenches her fingers around the glass of wine she’s no longer supposed to drink. “Not that kind of late, Jace.”

"But that happens, right?" Jace says, still implacable. "You’ve been under a lot of stress, back and forth to New York, helping Magnus and Alec with their wedding, going out with Isabelle… You need a day off. You need a week off. Switzerland is nice this time of year, or Vanuatu…"

"No, Jace." Clary forces herself to breathe in and out slowly. "I am not stressed out. I do not need a vacation."

"All right," Jace says. "You need to be pee on a stick. I’ll get you a stick to pee on."

"What?" Clary is mad, suddenly very mad. "I tell you I could be pregnant, and all you have to say is go pee on a stick?"

"You’re angry," Jace says. It’s maddening, the way he states the obvious.

"Yeah, good call. I’m angry. This is the most terrified I have been in my entire life, and you act like it’s no big deal."

"So you’re mad because you’re frightened and I’m not?"

Clary clenches the wine glass tighter, and Jace pulls it gently from her hand. “You’re going to break that,” he says.

Clary breathes out slowly. “Yes, I am frightened. I’m only twenty years old and a shadowhunter. I don’t know if I want or what would I do if I was pregnant”

Jace’s hands are firm on her shoulders. “We’ll figure this out, Clary. We always figure things out. But first let’s see if there is something to figure out, okay?”

"Okay," she says.

They hold hands in the car on the way to the drug store. She feels calm until Jace starts talking. That happens a lot actually — she’s calm, and then Jace’s talking, and then the whole universe is about to explode.

"We could have baby," he starts. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, horrified but he continues, oblivious. "Baby Herondale. We could name him Ignatius."

"You named our baby. We don’t know if I’m pregnant and you know the name of our baby. And it’s Ignatius." Angel, she doesn’t know which of these things is worse.

"You don’t like it?" Jace asks. "Ignatius Vladimir, Vladimir Ignatius. It has a nice ring to it."

Clary buries her face in her hand. “Don’t talk. I beg you, please don’t talk.”

—-

The first test is negative. So is the second one, and the third one she’d insisted on taking just for good measure. She leans against Jace, breathes out slowly.

"Phew," she says.

"Phew," he echoes.

She looks up at him questioningly. “For awhile, you sounded like you wanted me to be pregnant.”

"No." His fingers twine through hers. "For the record, I am actually pretty relieved that you’re not. But if you were, we would have figured it out. You can figure out anything, Clary, and I will figure out anything I have to in order to be with you."

"That’s one of the better things you’ve ever said to me, actually. File it away for future use." She smiles, but on the inside she’s shaky. What she has to say next is big, big enough to have broken up a relationship before. "The thing is, Jace, I don’t ever want to figure out a baby. I don’t know what I will think in the future, but right now is a no"

"Okay," he says. He doesn’t look happy or disappointed, just…okay.

"That’s all?" She asks. "I tell you I’ll never have a baby, you’ll never be a father, and it’s okay?"

"Yeah. Whatever you want is okay. You want to have a baby, we’ll have a baby. It will be terrifying, actually, and require a frightening quantity of mature adult discussion, but we would do it. And if you won’t want to have a baby, it’s okay. What I owe you is exactly the life you want to have."

"That is also one of the better things you have ever said to me, and I will remember it and hold it over your head the next time you set the living room on fire with your thruster pack." She feels dizzy, her knees a little weak. Jace does that to her a lot actually, every time he’s perfect and she doesn’t expect it.

"I have one other request," she says. "Actually, no, not a request. Demand."

"You demand to have sex with me, right here, right now," Jace says, and Clary narrows her eyes. Jace blanches. "Alternatively, you would like to state your non-sexual demand in clear and explicit terms which I will listen to carefully and then obey."

"In the extremely unlikely event that you and I have a baby, you will have no say in the name. None whatsoever."

"Wise decision," he says. "It’s a deal."

If my friend recommends me another Jonathan-Izzy fic, I’ll personally kill her :)

Doesn’t she understand I HATE that fucking pairing? That it hurts me just to think about it? (Sorry for the language but I’m really mad)

Annabeth walked along the beach, shoes in her hands, wearing nothing but a swimsuit. She walked until she came upon a blanket laid out across the sand, the sun starting to set. Earlier she had gotten a text from her boyfriend, to meet him at the beach. 

Suddenly there were hands over his eyes.

 “Guess who?” Percy said,  behind the girl. 

"Brad Pitt?” Annabeth questioned jokingly, which earned a laugh from the boy. 

“Try again.”

“Hmmm…” the blonde paused, “who could it possibly be?”

Percy then reached to take the hands off her face and spun around, still holding Annabeth’s hands. 

“Called it.” Percy smiled down at Annabeth.

 “So, are you going to tell me why I’m here?” The boy laughed 

“No, I’m going to show you.” He said, dragging Annabetg into the sea, until he was chest deep. Annabeth hopped onto Percy, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer, their foreheads touching.

 “We,” Percy stopped to kiss his girlfriend “are going to have a romantic moonlit picnic on the beach.” 

Perch leaned in to kiss Annabeth again, gently. 

“Sounds great.” He smiled at her. 

In the water both of them fooled around, splashing each other, until the sun had gone down completely. They exited the water, still laughing from their shenanigans and dried themselves off, wrapping themselves in their towels. 

“Food?” Percy asked the girl who looked at him quizzically 

 “When would I ever turn that offer down?” 

With that both burst out laughing, Percy trying to control it so he could get the food. He took out some sandwiches, a full party size bag of chips, and a couple of drink pouches.

 “Voila” he said in a cheesy French accent. Annabeth smiled at him, then threw one of the juice pouches at him.

 “Hey!” Percy said, alarmed. He threw it back at her, and then proceeded to hold up his hands in a defensive position when Annabeth tried to throw it back, she could easily beat him and both of them knew that really well

 “Let’s just eat.” Annabeth said between laughs, and with that they dug in. After they had finished their food they had laid back to look at the stars.

 “Aren’t they beautiful?” Annabeth asked her boyfriend. 

“Almost as beautiful as you.” Percy responded, turning on his side to look at Annabeth, smiling. 

She turned her head so their eyes met

"You are so cheesy" said Annabeth poking his stomach.

" I love you.” Percy said, inching closer to Annabeth, kissing her lightly. 

“I love you too.” Annabeth responded, getting lost in Percy’s deep green eyes.

 She moved her head to lie on Percy’s chest, Percy playing with her hair. Annabeth soon began tracing lines on his stomach, wanting to learn every part of him. 

“I could stay here forever” she mumbled softly. 

“Me too.” Was Percy’s last response before they both drifted off to sleep.

Annabeth walked along the beach, shoes in her hands, wearing nothing but a swimsuit. She walked until she came upon a blanket laid out across the sand, the sun starting to set. Earlier she had gotten a text from her boyfriend, to meet him at the beach.

Suddenly there were hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?” Percy said, behind the girl.

"Brad Pitt?” Annabeth questioned jokingly, which earned a laugh from the boy.

“Try again.”

“Hmmm…” the blonde paused, “who could it possibly be?”

Percy then reached to take the hands off her face and spun around, still holding Annabeth’s hands.

“Called it.” Percy smiled down at Annabeth.

“So, are you going to tell me why I’m here?” The boy laughed

“No, I’m going to show you.” He said, dragging Annabetg into the sea, until he was chest deep. Annabeth hopped onto Percy, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer, their foreheads touching.

“We,” Percy stopped to kiss his girlfriend “are going to have a romantic moonlit picnic on the beach.”

Perch leaned in to kiss Annabeth again, gently.

“Sounds great.” He smiled at her.

In the water both of them fooled around, splashing each other, until the sun had gone down completely. They exited the water, still laughing from their shenanigans and dried themselves off, wrapping themselves in their towels.

“Food?” Percy asked the girl who looked at him quizzically

“When would I ever turn that offer down?”

With that both burst out laughing, Percy trying to control it so he could get the food. He took out some sandwiches, a full party size bag of chips, and a couple of drink pouches.

“Voila” he said in a cheesy French accent. Annabeth smiled at him, then threw one of the juice pouches at him.

“Hey!” Percy said, alarmed. He threw it back at her, and then proceeded to hold up his hands in a defensive position when Annabeth tried to throw it back, she could easily beat him and both of them knew that really well

“Let’s just eat.” Annabeth said between laughs, and with that they dug in. After they had finished their food they had laid back to look at the stars.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Annabeth asked her boyfriend.

“Almost as beautiful as you.” Percy responded, turning on his side to look at Annabeth, smiling.

She turned her head so their eyes met

"You are so cheesy" said Annabeth poking his stomach.

" I love you.” Percy said, inching closer to Annabeth, kissing her lightly.

“I love you too.” Annabeth responded, getting lost in Percy’s deep green eyes.

She moved her head to lie on Percy’s chest, Percy playing with her hair. Annabeth soon began tracing lines on his stomach, wanting to learn every part of him.

“I could stay here forever” she mumbled softly.

“Me too.” Was Percy’s last response before they both drifted off to sleep.

"Just leave me alone"

Sometimes Nico wonders why it took them so long to get to this place. Why it took them so long to figure out their feelings for each other and act on them. He feels a physical ache when he considers that Percy’s heart wasn’t his for so long, and that he can still have some feelings for Annabeth. 

Nico wants to hit things when he thinks about that, because it did take them so long, and he knew it was not going to last long, they usually died young and that hurt him.

So he savors Percy’s kisses, allowing Percy’s taste to suffuse through him, thinking that he can imprint that unique flavor that is Percy upon his grace. Percy, who tastes like cookies and sea, coffee and something earthy that he can’t quite identify, but is still all Percy. Nico wants that flavor to be part of him for the rest of his days.

Each night they are together, Nico wishes he could slow down the pace of time, stretch each millisecond into an hour, two, even a day, knowing that each moment that passes brings him that much closer to the end of their time together.

And Percy doesn’t understand. Percy doesn’t know the sense of loneliness that permeates through somwone who had been alone for so long. Nico never felt in place before. He always felt like his edges weren’t quite cut properly for where he was; some bits were too large for the slot he was in, others too small, and none of them fit right, not at all.

But with Percy, all those edges fit perfectly, even the jagged ones that Nico could never quite figure out. They mesh smoothly with Percy, and Nico’s rough edges are softened, just as Percy’s are against the younger boy.

So Nico treasures his time with Percy, listening to each inhale that Percy makes, each exhale. He maps Percy’s body and worships it with his lips, his fingers, his nose, his tongue, the palms of his hands, and still it isn’t enough, because there just isn’t enough time left. He rests his head on Percy’s shoulder, letting his hair tickle the other boy’s nose, enjoying the undulations of Percy’s stomach and chest as he laughs at the feeling. They lie in the sun, perpendicular to each other, his head on Percy’s stomach, which has a soft outer layer, with a hard core to support Nico’s neck. It’s just the right height for Nico’s neck, supporting him perfectly, so that they can lie that way, basking in the sun for hours, until Percy gets bored with whatever he’s doing. Nico never gets bored with spending time like this, because he can catalog a myriad of sights and sounds associated with Percy

Sometimes it seems to Nico that Percy is actually determined to make their time together even more brief than it already is. He throws himself into battle as if his life were worth nothing, as if his death would not mean anything to anyone. He is reckless with his life, and Nico knows that it’s because he thinks he has to do it, he feels like he has to save everyone else around him. But Nico would feel better if Percy just saved himself and not the rest as well. Because he knows one day he’ll be alone once more. But right now he hopes Percy takes care of himself.

 Because the alternative is horrible.

"Just leave me alone"

Sometimes Nico wonders why it took them so long to get to this place. Why it took them so long to figure out their feelings for each other and act on them. He feels a physical ache when he considers that Percy’s heart wasn’t his for so long, and that he can still have some feelings for Annabeth.

Nico wants to hit things when he thinks about that, because it did take them so long, and he knew it was not going to last long, they usually died young and that hurt him.

So he savors Percy’s kisses, allowing Percy’s taste to suffuse through him, thinking that he can imprint that unique flavor that is Percy upon his grace. Percy, who tastes like cookies and sea, coffee and something earthy that he can’t quite identify, but is still all Percy. Nico wants that flavor to be part of him for the rest of his days.

Each night they are together, Nico wishes he could slow down the pace of time, stretch each millisecond into an hour, two, even a day, knowing that each moment that passes brings him that much closer to the end of their time together.

And Percy doesn’t understand. Percy doesn’t know the sense of loneliness that permeates through somwone who had been alone for so long. Nico never felt in place before. He always felt like his edges weren’t quite cut properly for where he was; some bits were too large for the slot he was in, others too small, and none of them fit right, not at all.

But with Percy, all those edges fit perfectly, even the jagged ones that Nico could never quite figure out. They mesh smoothly with Percy, and Nico’s rough edges are softened, just as Percy’s are against the younger boy.

So Nico treasures his time with Percy, listening to each inhale that Percy makes, each exhale. He maps Percy’s body and worships it with his lips, his fingers, his nose, his tongue, the palms of his hands, and still it isn’t enough, because there just isn’t enough time left. He rests his head on Percy’s shoulder, letting his hair tickle the other boy’s nose, enjoying the undulations of Percy’s stomach and chest as he laughs at the feeling. They lie in the sun, perpendicular to each other, his head on Percy’s stomach, which has a soft outer layer, with a hard core to support Nico’s neck. It’s just the right height for Nico’s neck, supporting him perfectly, so that they can lie that way, basking in the sun for hours, until Percy gets bored with whatever he’s doing. Nico never gets bored with spending time like this, because he can catalog a myriad of sights and sounds associated with Percy

Sometimes it seems to Nico that Percy is actually determined to make their time together even more brief than it already is. He throws himself into battle as if his life were worth nothing, as if his death would not mean anything to anyone. He is reckless with his life, and Nico knows that it’s because he thinks he has to do it, he feels like he has to save everyone else around him. But Nico would feel better if Percy just saved himself and not the rest as well. Because he knows one day he’ll be alone once more. But right now he hopes Percy takes care of himself.

Because the alternative is horrible.

"Kiss me you idiot"

"But…but…" 

Magnus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s surprise and leaned closer so his lips were on Alec’s ones. The younger boy returned the kiss still a bit unsure and when Magnus leaned back and looked into his eyes he blinked.

"I was not sure you wanted to kiss me" the blue eyed boy admited, his hands still tangled on Magnus hair "I mean, not now"

"Why is that?" Magnus raised an eyebrow and poked his boyfriend’s chest  "Why wouldn’t I want to kiss the most perfect human being?"

Alec blushed at his words and put his face on Magnus’ chest trying to cover the colour he was getting from his family members.

"I don’t know, we are in public" said Alec in a low voice.

"You consider your family and some of my friends public? I would understand if we were on a park or something like that, but…" he trailed off and looked at Alec. "Well, I don’t really care if we are in public or not, if I feel like I want to kiss you, I’m going to do it any way. And I hope you do the same"

Alec nodded and turned, heading back for the table where his brothers were throwing food to each other. They neared the table and the younger boy stopped, tilting his head curiously. 

“Is that…?” His question drifted off as his eyes left the swath of small leaves dangling above their tent and moved to Magnus’ face. “Magnus…”

“Happy Christmas, Alexander.” He leaned in and kissed him, slowly and softly, taking his time before pressing his tongue against his parted lips. They broke apart at length and Magnus pulled back, reaching for his hand and leading him toward the chair.

“From me, of course.” He glanced back to where Isabelle was standing, next to Clary but smiling in their direction. “And from Izzy.”

"Kiss me you idiot"

"But…but…"

Magnus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s surprise and leaned closer so his lips were on Alec’s ones. The younger boy returned the kiss still a bit unsure and when Magnus leaned back and looked into his eyes he blinked.

"I was not sure you wanted to kiss me" the blue eyed boy admited, his hands still tangled on Magnus hair "I mean, not now"

"Why is that?" Magnus raised an eyebrow and poked his boyfriend’s chest "Why wouldn’t I want to kiss the most perfect human being?"

Alec blushed at his words and put his face on Magnus’ chest trying to cover the colour he was getting from his family members.

"I don’t know, we are in public" said Alec in a low voice.

"You consider your family and some of my friends public? I would understand if we were on a park or something like that, but…" he trailed off and looked at Alec. "Well, I don’t really care if we are in public or not, if I feel like I want to kiss you, I’m going to do it any way. And I hope you do the same"

Alec nodded and turned, heading back for the table where his brothers were throwing food to each other. They neared the table and the younger boy stopped, tilting his head curiously.

“Is that…?” His question drifted off as his eyes left the swath of small leaves dangling above their tent and moved to Magnus’ face. “Magnus…”

“Happy Christmas, Alexander.” He leaned in and kissed him, slowly and softly, taking his time before pressing his tongue against his parted lips. They broke apart at length and Magnus pulled back, reaching for his hand and leading him toward the chair.

“From me, of course.” He glanced back to where Isabelle was standing, next to Clary but smiling in their direction. “And from Izzy.”

Jace loves having sex with Clary in the shower. Well, Jace loves fucking Clary anywhere, anytime, in any location and any position - it’s all good. But there’s something about fucking her in the shower that he particularly loves. It’s a combination of how hot she looks with his red hair wet and water beading on her eyelashes, and the way the water runs down her slick body, rivulets tracing the curves and angles. And it’s the steam – they both like the water hot – and how it makes it kinda hard to breathe and how Clary takes in these deep, shuddery lungfuls of air while Jace pounds into her, and how that’s maybe the hottest thing of all.

They’re fucking right now - Clary’s chest and cheek are pressed against his chest, panting harshly as Jace moves. Jace latches his mouth onto the juncture between Clary’s neck and shoulder, sucking hard at the pale skin there and leaving a nice bruise. He smiles, pleased with himself. Clary loves it when Jace marks her, she loves the reminders. Sometimes Jace catches her in their bedroom, standing naked in front of the big mirror, admiring the fingermarks on his hips, or the hickeys Jace sucks into her inner thighs.

Clary’s knees buckle and she almost falls down when Jace decides to go faster, but he hooks a strong arm around her waist, holding her tight and pressing her back against the wall. She’s gulping in air, eyes closed and face scrunched up while Jace holds perfectly still in front of her.

She clutches at the back of Jace’s thigh instead, urging him on and he starts moving again, pounding Clary hard against the wall. Jace skims his fingertips down Clary’s side until he finds a scar she got from a demon. He traces it lightly with the pad of his index finger and Clary shudders, her whole body hypersensitive.

Jace loves Clary’s scars; they’re part of the crazy, almost unbelievable story that is Clary Fray. She’s a fighter and she’s brave and she’s strong. She’s loyal and she has a huge heart. She loves fiercely - his family and his friends and Jace. Jace’s still not sure what exactly he did to deserve it, but he’s thankful for it every day. “Clary,” Jace whispers against the back of her neck. “Clary”

She moans, her fingers digging into the flesh of Jace’s thigh. Jace reaches for Clary’s ass, holding it in his hand for a moment, feeling the skin.

“C’mon Jace” she pleads after a long cry that can only mean she has reached ver orgasm.

Clary’s boneless now, slumped against the wall and Jace picks up his pace, grips Clary’s hips tight and slams into her. Seconds later he’s coming too, shooting hot and wet deep. He slumps against Clary, holding tight around Clary’s waist as she sighs happily, looking at him and lifting her head for a sloppy kiss.

They stand there for a long time, Jace’s cock eventually slipping from Clary’s insides and the water washing away the evidence of their fuck. Just one more advantage of fucking in the shower, Jace thinks.

Jace loves having sex with Clary in the shower. Well, Jace loves fucking Clary anywhere, anytime, in any location and any position - it’s all good. But there’s something about fucking her in the shower that he particularly loves. It’s a combination of how hot she looks with his red hair wet and water beading on her eyelashes, and the way the water runs down her slick body, rivulets tracing the curves and angles. And it’s the steam – they both like the water hot – and how it makes it kinda hard to breathe and how Clary takes in these deep, shuddery lungfuls of air while Jace pounds into her, and how that’s maybe the hottest thing of all.

They’re fucking right now - Clary’s chest and cheek are pressed against his chest, panting harshly as Jace moves. Jace latches his mouth onto the juncture between Clary’s neck and shoulder, sucking hard at the pale skin there and leaving a nice bruise. He smiles, pleased with himself. Clary loves it when Jace marks her, she loves the reminders. Sometimes Jace catches her in their bedroom, standing naked in front of the big mirror, admiring the fingermarks on his hips, or the hickeys Jace sucks into her inner thighs.

Clary’s knees buckle and she almost falls down when Jace decides to go faster, but he hooks a strong arm around her waist, holding her tight and pressing her back against the wall. She’s gulping in air, eyes closed and face scrunched up while Jace holds perfectly still in front of her.

She clutches at the back of Jace’s thigh instead, urging him on and he starts moving again, pounding Clary hard against the wall. Jace skims his fingertips down Clary’s side until he finds a scar she got from a demon. He traces it lightly with the pad of his index finger and Clary shudders, her whole body hypersensitive.

Jace loves Clary’s scars; they’re part of the crazy, almost unbelievable story that is Clary Fray. She’s a fighter and she’s brave and she’s strong. She’s loyal and she has a huge heart. She loves fiercely - his family and his friends and Jace. Jace’s still not sure what exactly he did to deserve it, but he’s thankful for it every day. “Clary,” Jace whispers against the back of her neck. “Clary”

She moans, her fingers digging into the flesh of Jace’s thigh. Jace reaches for Clary’s ass, holding it in his hand for a moment, feeling the skin.

“C’mon Jace” she pleads after a long cry that can only mean she has reached ver orgasm.

Clary’s boneless now, slumped against the wall and Jace picks up his pace, grips Clary’s hips tight and slams into her. Seconds later he’s coming too, shooting hot and wet deep. He slumps against Clary, holding tight around Clary’s waist as she sighs happily, looking at him and lifting her head for a sloppy kiss.

They stand there for a long time, Jace’s cock eventually slipping from Clary’s insides and the water washing away the evidence of their fuck. Just one more advantage of fucking in the shower, Jace thinks.