bloodofithuriel | (no subject)

( it's not like she'd been one to think about it, either. maybe it was the city's way of toying with her, throwing her into a situation that would never unfold back home. she can recognize his looks for what they are, she gets the appeal other woman find in him, but what's more is she knows what's beneath that bravado, that arrogance, and he knows what's beneath her own.

the last thing she wants to do is talk about her brother in the current circumstance, but she gets it. )

He wouldn't touch you. Especially if he knew I was the one instigating. If anything, he can be mad at me.

( but she doesn't think it'll go there. if there was anything her and alec gave one another it was understanding; support, even if blindly. )

Why don't you tell me about some of those 'things.'

I mean. I'd rather he wasn't mad at either of us.

[ Then again, Alec had his boyfriend and Magnus and who the hell ever else he was hanging around these days. It wasn't as if he needed Jace around too.

Jace was good with women. Well, most women. The women who he slept with, flirted with, his 'book club'. Izzy was different. Izzy mattered, and for one of the first times since he was about fourteen he found himself somewhat tongue-tied in trying to say something smooth. ]

You want words, when you know how terrible I am at those?

When's the last time he stayed mad at either of us for more than a day?

( they were all too important to one another. and as much as her comfort in this place comes from the fact that her brother had come to find her only a few hours after she'd arrived, she knows a risk when she sees one, and no part of her believes this would do anything to fracture that.

she's still in that robe kissing silk against her skin every time she shifts, draft from the brisk city outdoors coming in through the curtains. she can't help but to imagine him seeing her this way, wearing so little, layer slouched over a single bronzed shoulder. and she finds she wants so much more from him than words, but he'd always been able to run his mouth—surely he could handle the task before him now. )

Maybe they'll earn you an invitation to show me instead.

Tell me, one thing. The first thing you think about.

[ Well she had a point, and Alec HAD told him to go and more or less... try people out. So really, he had only himself to blame if Jace did that. ]

Finding out if your skin is as silky as that robe. Running my fingers over it and know you won't give a shit about the sword calluses. Finding out what happens when I play with your hair now that I'm not just trying to tug it and run away.

We've trained before. It wouldn't be the first time you've felt my skin, but maybe the first time you'll be paying attention.

Why don't you come see what happens?

( it's as much an invitation as any, and what's better, he doesn't have very far to go. )

It's certainly the first time I'd do so with a certain intent.

On my way.

[ If Izzy's bluffing, he's going to call it. If she's not. Well. At least one Lightwood hasn't replaced him in their life. ]

( she's not that cruel, but maybe she should be. maybe she should turn him away once he gets to that closed bedroom door, shouldn't think about his fingers tangling into her hair, tugging it in a far different manner than a childish tease. but she cant, now, not with skin burning in waiting, not as antsy as she is idling in those sheets.

it's all she can do to slip from the bed, winding that robe a little more securely about her figure with a loose bow, still lazed over a single shoulder. and she makes it to the door as she hears his steps quietly padding down the stairs, courtesy of the rune along her neck. for the most part, swallow wood is quiet, asleep—everyone tucked away to their own rooms, for what she knows, and as she steps outside of her bedroom door, cold marble beneath her feet, she leans against the wall just outside of it instead.

it's risky, waiting there for him like a treat in the dark, but maybe she likes it that way. )

[ It was one of the few nights Jace allowed himself the indulgence of staying at Swallow Wood, instead of sneaking back to the Down to sleep, paranoid about getting Magnus and everyone else in the house in trouble.

Predictably, he hadn't been able to sleep anyways so the text hadn't woken him up, but he had been in bed. When he pads into sight in the hallway, he's in nothing but a set of borrowed sweats from Alec, his usually slicked back hair mussed and half in his face, and that very familiar smile showing up, half crooked on his face.

He's still not entirely sure of his welcome, but she's still wearing that robe, the slope of one shoulder showing, her runes standing out on her skin and it hits him suddenly, like a brick to the face, that Izzy is one stunningly beautiful woman.

He'd known it. Objectively. Like one knew a painting was beautiful. But his brain had never made the connection for him between Izzy being gorgeous and being attractive as hell before. It probably showed on his face too, and in the way his steps slowed for a few seconds, before he hurried to her faster.

When he got close enough, he crowded up into her space, his hands coming to rest almost reverently on her hips. ]

Hey.

It was one word, whispered under his breath, but there was a wealth of heat in it all of the sudden.

( thankfully she'd been given a room closer to the entry, hidden away from the others scattered about the home as fittingly grand as magnus. if anything, it offered them some semblance of privacy, a veil between the others that could easily fracture, what with a shadowhunter and a warlock none too far. it sends a tug of heat beneath her navel, the idea of having to keep themselves quiet enough that they won't be detected—not that the rest of the bunch were entirely innocent, but on the off chance those sounds might be recognized.

when she catches sight of him in the hall, first as a shadow and then characteristically with no more than a pair of sweats, she doesn't hide the way hues wander, how it leaves teeth chewing at the lower pillow of her lip in anticipation. they could both readily be described as bold when it came to this sort of thing, but she can't help but to revel in how different his approach is, now. how many times he's made his way to her before, absent of that hunger.

he brushes in close to her, places those hands at her hips and there's nothing stopping the way exhale slips from her lips without her consent, how pulse thunders deafeningly beneath her chest.

she reaches out to ravel him in closer, yet, so their fronts ghost together, that maddening spell between them—how much she had to learn of this side of him—all too gratifying to break just yet. she's every bit intending to draw it out until one of them breaks, to test the waters until she can't. she hums, a velvety sound, eyes ticking down to that notorious smirk of his. nails give a bite after scoring to his lower back, digging in just enough for him to be aware of their presence. )

Can't sleep?

( it's a tut, taunting. )

[ Jace makes a low sound in the back of his throat when he feels her nails in his back and his smile just grows a little more.

He's spent almost half of his life sparring with Isabella Lightwood. This is a dance he knows. He dips his head, lips almost brushing against the shell of her ear, but not quite, his voice a bare whisper of sound, knowing she'd hear him perfectly fine. ]

Hard to sleep when I'm getting sent scandalous pictures by a beautiful woman in the middle of the night.

[ He steps in a little closer, not quite pinning her to the wall, but he could if he shifted just the slightest bit. He makes a low, rumbling sound of pure male appreciation in his throat. ]

You look good, Izzy.

( it's no less than infuriating that she's already so taken, dizzied by the idea of having him, touching him, tasting him when he's been so close all along. when she's watched him skirt off on his romps with other women and never batted an eye. he leans in and lashes flutter to a heavy close, the scent of him enveloping her, and when those lips ghost against her ear her chest gives the slightest bow from that wall reactively, causing that silk to slip all the further down her arm.

there's a grin that paints her mouth, sure he doesn't need to see it to hear it laden on her tongue. she could toy on about how the message hadn't been intended for him—but that was neither here nor there. he'd gotten it, and here they were.

he doesn't need words when he sounds like that, when he husks up to her, talks to her with a grumble that's so often reserved for someone else, anyone else. )

Do I? ( it's nothing more than a baiting, using one hand to guide his palm lower, along the curve of her backside just as she hitches her leg up, thigh brushing his. she manages to tip her own crown so she can graze lips at the edge of his jaw, that scruff brushing her cheek, and she whispers: )

Imagine how I feel.

Please. You know you do. Confidence has never been a problem for you, Izz.

[ It was one of the things he liked about her. Izzy knew who and what she was, and she (mostly) didn't care what others thought of her. It was a pretty attractive trait, one that they used to share.

The way she guided his hand lower though, it made a surge of heat flush over his skin and her thigh sliding up his made him growl very softly, and his hands moved, shifted, and then he was lifting her, settling her right against his hips and pushing up against the wall to balance both of them, as his hands kept her safe against him, where she could feel exactly what her touch and scent was doing to him. He'd broken first, and he didn't even care, really. ]

Izzy.

[ Her name was a guttural sound in his throat. ]

( he isn't wrong. isabelle's always been comfortable with the physical, the one to lure another closer regardless of whether they were shy in their want or demanding; she had a counter for it all. but here with him, she can't help but to feel as if she's been stripped of that, as if there's far more significance to it all, and part of her knows there is. that this wasn't just anyone pinning her against that wall. but it doesn't stop her. if anything, it spurs her further.

a tiny sound escapes her as he lifts her effortlessly from the floor, hips slotting neatly together where she can feel that stiffening line of him beneath that thick cotton layer, temple pressing against his as she winds an arm about his shoulder, the other cupping along his neck. he says her name and she has to bite back a moan, crazed by the way he says it—like a warning, a surging impatience, and that's exactly how she wants him.

she writhes a little, thighs pulsing at either side of him as she huffs, thumb pressing insistently beneath his jaw, instructing his gaze to lift in order to meet with her own. their mouths are close, close enough that she can feel his breath colliding with hers. )

Touch me, Jace.

( tone speaks for her: please. )

[ Jace smiles a little, unable to help it. He's reassured that she's as obviously affected as he is, and he braces her carefully, between his arm and the wall and his thighs, so he can free one hand, lifting it to trace his fingertips slowly down the column of her throat.

His touch isn't light, it's deliberate and slow and tactile, making firm contact with her skin. Izzy isn't delicate. He doesn't have to worry about breaking her. ]

Yeah? Like this?

[ He's teasing her, obviously, but with intent, because his fingertips are already cresting over her collarbone, and working to nudge the other side of her robe off the unbared shoulder. ]

Look at you, Izz. So fucking pretty.

[ It's a groan of sound, as he drags two fingertips down her sternum, tracing over the rune there. ]

( it's one thing that invigorates her: if there's anyone that knows what she can handle, what she can take, it's him. how many nights had they wandered into one another when sleep couldn't find them, just to take out their frustrations training? she'd told him since she was a little girl not to hold back, that she wasn't fragile—nothing has changed.

she savors the way it feels, those fingers carding down her throat, keeps thoughts from wandering as to how it might feel to have his palm wrapped around it, steadying her with a hold there. she burns for him, aches, and she's not shy to show it, giving a slow drag of teeth along her lower lip as he explores, threatens to leave the upper half of that robe slipping free entirely if it weren't for that bow tied in place, his torso pressed to hers. )

Mm. It's a start.

( a wicked tone as touch draws between the valley of her breasts, responding by threading fingers up his nape and into blond locks, giving a sharp tug—she knew full and well what he could handle, too. ankles link behind his back, using the hold as leverage to pull his hips to hers, a makeshift rut, nose stumbling against his.

he says he's not good with words, but she likes hearing him—especially like this. when she speaks again it's low, a hushed tone for only them to hear. )

Tell me what you want.

[ Ironically, standing in the hallway of Magnus' house with his adoptive sister pinned up against the wall and her legs around his hips is probably the cleanest he's felt since he got to this ridiculous place. This is something he knows how to do. Something he can accomplish without doubt and loathing creeping in on his brain.

He flicks at that tiny bow with his fingertips, contemplating just yanking it the hell apart right now, his eyes flicking down to her breasts and then back up to her as she tugs on his hair, making him grunt and smile in response. ]

I want to be inside you right the fuck now. I want to hear what noises you make when I fill you up. I want to see if I can just fuck you right against this wall and if you can stay quiet enough to not wake the house. I want to make you scream the house down. I want Isabelle. I burn.

[ His words are harsh and fierce, and he leans in and bites the plump bottom lip she's been worrying at with her teeth before he finally, finally kisses her. He isn't shy about it. He's demanding. Hungry. Taking whatever she'll give him. ]

( she knows what he's thinking when he gives a faint tease at that bow, and he's roused her to the point she's reckless enough to welcome the thought of him stripping her right there, taking her where anyone could see if they so much as walked down those stairs and glanced toward the entry. there's nothing more satisfying than a man that listens, that indulges exactly what she asks, to tell her, with no restraint. and it's only all the more promising as to what he could deliver, that all of that coy arrogance came with far more than enough to back it up.

she's sure he can see the flush of her cheeks, the way it splotches across her chest, and when he snares at her lip with his own teeth all of that careful, calculative control she prides herself on crumbles, and he demands his mouth with hers just in time for her to hide a moan within it. she isn't shy to pry lips apart with a curl of her tongue, and while she's not exactly in the best position to tug those sweatpants down just enough, to let him feel for himself that there was nothing keeping her from him beneath that silk, she can urge him with her actions, with her own words.

that kiss breaks messily, lips still stumbling together, glossed and blushed with each other and she nips at the uppermost brim, drawing in a sharp breath as she winds hips within his hold again, trying for what she can to chase that friction. )

Fuck me, Jace. ( a demand that mirrors his kiss, and as if he needs to hear it, as if to goad him: ) Don't be gentle.

[ Jace isn't doing a lot of thinking at this point, the heat between them flaring into flames of passion. Want is overriding most of his thought process, especially when she kisses him back like she means it, the way she rubs right up against him and he swears he can feel the heat of her even through the material of the sweats. He swears under his breath and his mouth moves against her throat, right under her ear, nipping her skin and then kissing the sting away. ]

Right here? Just like this?

[ It's less him questioning what she wants and more making sure this is exactly what she wants. Especially in this place, with someone as important to him as Izzy is, consent was something he would absolutely demand.

Even as he asks it however, his fingers flick back to that ridiculous bow, and tugs it loose, baring her body to his hungry eyes, making him growl under his breath. Fuck. He knew Izzy was gorgeous, but... Angel. ]

Edited 2021-04-05 19:01 (UTC)

( that curse paints a smirk across her lips, and it dawns on her how little she knows of him like this—the sounds he made, what octave his throat favored, what it took to drive him over that fevered pitch. as it is, with stamina runes traced along each of their skin, they certainly had quite the playing field ahead of them to find out. his teeth claim that sweet spot beneath her ear and her shoulder curls upward, lithe fingers tangling in dirty blond strands at back of his crown, keeping a stern grip.

if there was any part of her that felt this would break them, that it wasn't something they could come back from, she'd of stopped herself before he'd even made it to that room. and as much as she revels in the idea of him tangled in those sheets with her, he'd presented an enticing challenge she's hardly willing to walk away from. her mouth finds the brim of his ear, letting each of her shoulders raise just enough to help that silk fold, caressing in a whisper of fabric down along her back.

the slight chill of the room nips at exposed flesh, and when he growls she snickers, a playful rouse of a sound, crescent of her nails carving a trail down along his chest, his abdomen, pausing only when their bodies connect. )

Right here. ( and if she had a means of tugging those sweatpants down, she'd of done so already. ) Something tells me I'm going to have to keep you quiet.

Jace groans again as he sees that fabric slide down off her shoulders and exposes her form to him. Even if the half shadow of the dim hallway, his vision has no problem in tracing her curves and valleys. The tug on his hair makes him growl again, and he rocks against her, one last tease before he gives her what she wants.

His voice is hoarse but quiet, for the moment. A dark promise of her getting exactly what she asked for.

Whatever m'lady wishes, she gets.

She feels him lift her, shifts, and those stupid sweatpants drop well below his thighs. He shifts her once again and then the blunt tip of his cock is pressing right against her, and with one last searching glance at her face, as if checking in, he rocks forward, pressing into her with a sure thrust of his hips, settling her flush against him and pressed back into the wall.

( she knows it's coming by the way he shifts against her after that rut, the soft sound of the fabric being tugged down those hips, and she wishes she could see him, wrap fingers around him and toy with him the way he was her—but the anticipation does little to prepare her for the head of his cock to press against the heat of her, drawing in a breath just before he presses himself in.

her jaw drops, a harsh huff being ripped from her throat as toes curl at the small of his back, thighs clasping tight at either side of him which pulls him all the more snug. she has to bite her tongue to keep back the wanton moan that begs to slip free, tucking her mouth into the crook of his neck where she draws an inhale raggedly. a curse keens from her, falling fluently from her tongue, a language the muscles resorts to when everything else runs blank.

she's hardly aware of that harsh grip in his tresses, still, all she knows is that every inch of her feels as if it's ignited, on edge, and for a moment she's nothing but a needy thing in his arms. )

God, Jace. Yes. ( a sigh in gratification, dragging lips down to his throat as she clenches around him, making sure he can feel tight velveteen walls welcoming every inch of him. )

[ It was more than gratifying to hear her reaction, even as he has to bite his own lip to try to strangle back his own moan as he feels the warm, wet heat of her surrounding him, clenching around his cock, making his hips jerk in response, thrusting her against the wall again as he swallows down another strangled sound of want. ]

Izz, fuck... Perfect.

[ It's all he can manage at the moment, too busy trying to contain his own sounds of pleasure, and absorb hers, his fingers digging into her skin as he supports and clings to her at the same time, hips rocking back and then forward again, starting to set up a steadier rhythm, or trying too, still sort of stunned at how gloriously good it feels. ]

( it's every bit evident when those fingers dig into her, when he says her name like that just before hips withdraw that she's likely damned herself with her own pride, but when had she ever turned down a challenge he'd given her? even when they were young, all he'd have to do was turn it into an 'i bet you can't,' or 'i bet you won't, and she'd prove him wrong every time.

but this? all of this heat and need and pent up frustration from being dragged to this city in the first place, despite her guise, she's not sure how long she'll be able to keep herself quiet. she's not sure if she wants to. what's more, the last thing she wants is for him to hide his own sounds, listening attentively to every hitch of his breath, every tone that growls and scratches its way free. he sheathes himself into her again and she's clawing her way down one side of his back, chest bowing to feel his skin against her own.

that silk slip barely manages to stay in place, held there by the crook of her arms. she bites at her lips but it doesn't silence that noise, digging her heel into him as if to encourage him further. lips fumble up to his ear again, letting a hot breath curl against it. )

I need it. Need you.

[ Jace is starting to forget why he's supposed to be quiet, especially when Izzy moves against him like that, when he hears her own ragged breathing and he leans into her, pushing her more solidly against the wall, pressing against skin to skin so he can use the wall to half hold them both up as he increases his pace and shifts the angle just enough to he can drag himself against her walls with every thrust. ]

You've got me, Izzy.

[ His mouth finds hers with a frenzied heat, moaning against her lips as he takes them in a kiss full of lust and want and need. She wants him? She can have him, all that he has in this moment, thrusting into her like he can't get enough, kissing her like she's his only source of air. ]

( how quickly she's turned into a needy thing within his arms, how willingly she banishes that dare in favor of losing herself in him, the notes of his shampoo and a slight tinge of sweat clouding her senses, how that swell of pressure from being filled comes with a little more give. he's never had her, never been told a breaths worth of what she liked, what she preferred, and yet he cants his hips in a way that nudges his tip up against those hidden spots within her and she's grateful for his mouth seeking out her own.

a clip of a whimper twines with that moan of his and the kiss is messy, distracted, unaware of just how harshly she takes that lower pout of his between her teeth. she'd told him she didn't want gentle and she'd meant it, not here, not when there's enough trust to let him see what she really needed, to drive him there.

she's drunk off the sound of him, her name echoing again and again, over and over in a way only he could say it, a way she'd never thought she'd be so desperate to hear. it's a lack of control in her current position that makes her all the more antsy, famished, that kiss coming in detached pieces between pants in time with each of his thrusts. forehead presses against his, lifting her weight with what leverage she has to curve in to him with every hit. )

Harder. ( she's not afraid to ask for it. maybe he didn't know what he was getting into, indulging her this way, but she's intent to let him find out. )

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i'm damning myself with this tbh

at least we're damned together? XD

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