Of all the things Jace is, his favourite is being hers.
This is just a little piece I came up with while listening to this song. I don't want to mention the name or artist because, even though they're one of my favourite people in the whole world, I think it's just way too cliché to use any of their songs. So this is just inspired, it is not a songfic. However, if you do manage to work out the song or the artist – I'd love to know. And take a cookie.
None these mini stories are related.
Jace Wayland is an egotistical, sharp tongued, attention monopolizer.
Clary watched as the girls around Jace tittered at his joke. A blonde girl in a short dress flipped her hair back over her shoulder and fluttered her eyelashes delicately as his eyes swept the room, instantly looking for his next kill. He spotted Clary and Isabelle standing with some friends the older girl had picked up at Pandemonium and sidled up to them.
"This is Jace," Isabelle yelled, introducing him over the thrum of the music "my brother."
Clary watched as the faces of the girls around him visibly relaxed. He grinned easily and slung an arm over his sister's shoulder.
"It's his stunning good looks that do it." Isabelle said dryly. Next to her, Simon bit back a laugh.
Jace's eyes turned on his, narrowed. "Jealousy is a sin, bloodsucker"
"Sucker?" the humans around them were raising their eyebrows and looking a little concerned.
"That's just his nickname," Isabelle said quickly "Jace is quite the joker. He likes to have all the attention in the room on him" her voice turned stern as she stared at him. He lifted his hands in mock surrender.
"Like you said Is, it's the looks that do it."
Clary rolled her eyes and Jace, catching her, raised an eyebrow delicately. His arm reached out and took her hand, pulling her away from the circle and into the crowd, towards his body, so she was pressed up against his chest.
"Jace," she hissed into his ear, standing on her tiptoes "I don't dance!"
"Lucky for you, I'm good enough for the both of us," he said with a wolfish grin. He spun her round quickly once and pulled her back into his chest.
"Don't you want to go and entertain some more girls?" she said, biting back the malice in her voice. He chuckled.
"Sure," he said, his eyes fixed on her with a smiled "but I want to dance with my girlfriend first."
Jace Wayland is a Shadowhunter.
"Because you can't, Clary. You don't know enough about being a Shadowhunter yet and I'm not putting you in danger."
"How am I supposed to learn if -"
"You'll learn, the safe way. Your safety is not something I'm willing to jeopardize just so I can spend a little more time making out with you."
"And what about me? What if I want to spend a little more time making out with you?"
"Well," she could hear amusement in his voice "you wouldn't be the first."
"Jerk," she spat into the phone. She sighed. "I miss you."
"I miss you more," he said quietly "I'll be back soon, Clary."
"How soon?" she challenged.
"Not soon enough," he said, and she could hear the regret in his voice.
They hung up and Clary lay back on Jace's bed on the Institute with a sigh. He was all the way in Idris for another two days. It would be so easy for him to just let her tag along; even waiting for him to come back would be easier at Idris. But then, she thought with a smile, he wasn't strong enough to say no to her when he could see her face.
She sat up and stretched, yawning. It was getting late. She missed Jace not being there to say goodnight to her and she missed the nights he fell asleep with her even more. He had only been gone three days but it felt like forever. She understood that being a Shadowhunter meant he was not a normal teenager and had to be away doing important things, but that didn't mean she liked it.
She went into his closet, the tidiest wardrobe she had ever seen, and pulled out one of his many black t-shirts. She pulled off her clothes and slipped the shirt over her head. It was so big on her it brushed her thighs. She took a deep breath, smelling him in the best way she could and sat down on the floor, legs tucked up to her body and rested her head on his knees. She thought back on the time he'd sat in a similar position to this, when he'd told her about the boy and the falcon. She pushed her body forward until she rolled onto her knees and pulled her sketchbook off the bedside table and began to sketch. If she couldn't physically be with him, she could smell him and draw him.
Jace Wayland is an excellent kisser.
They fell back against his bed, her lips pressed against his, his arms wound around her waist. One hand crawled up her back and fisted its fingers into her hair. She rearranged herself so she was straddling his waist and giggled against his mouth as he nibbled gently on her bottom lip. She threaded her fingers into his thick blonde hair and moved her lips down to his jaw, pressing butterfly kisses against his skin. He groaned, low in his throat and flipped her over so he was lying over her, his arms supporting the weight of his upper body. His arm muscles rippled under his tight black shirt as he leant down and found her neck, kissing it chastely under her jaw and moving back to her lips. She gasped as his tongue ran smoothly along her bottom lip and pulled him back to her, her hand pulling his head closer to her with a force he was unfamiliar with from her. He kissed her deeply and they both drew back, gasping.
"I know," he said a little breathlessly "I'm good."
Clary rolled her eyes. "Can we try not being egotistical? Just once? Besides," she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes "we both know I'm the better kisser."
"You're right" he nodded "you're very good. So I must be at least excellent."
She groaned "how do our conversations always turn into the 'stroke Jace's ego hour'?"
"It's inevitable, when you look this good" he said seriously. He dropped on his side and she squirmed away from him so he could lie back against the bed. She moved to sit up but he grabbed her arm back.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"I told Isabelle I'd -"
"The correct answer was 'back into your arms, Jaceykins.'"
"It's a work in progress."
"It's a disaster."
He grumbled and pulled her down so she lay across his chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder so it fell down over her arm and across her torso. "Much better."
She leant into him and breathed in deeply. His hard chest was rising and falling in a slow rhythm that was lolling her into a peaceful rest. She could hear his heart beating through his chest, but that wasn't slow or peaceful at all. She hid her smile in his chest at the sound of his heart racing because of her.
"Your heart says I'm the better kisser." She said smugly.
She felt him shrug and press his lips against her hair. "I don't doubt it."
Jace Wayland is a romantic.
Clary watched as Luke reached out and shook Jace's hand. The golden haired boy turned and headed back towards her with a grin. His hands were tucked in his pockets.
"What was that about?"
"I asked Luke if I could take you out on a date."
"What?" Clary spluttered "why would you do that?"
"I wanted your fathers' permission" he said with half a shrug. It struck Clary as odd that someone like Jace Wayland, someone who didn't answer to anybody – was asking Luke for permission to date her, when he already had her.
"You know, Jace," she said slowly as they made their way towards the L train "boys generally ask for permission before they start calling the girl their girlfriend."
"I'm unconventional, what can I say?" he said with a grin, standing back to let her board first. She found a pair of seats facing into the carriage and spotted the exact same girls she had seen on her very first journey on the train with Jace.
He plonked himself down next to her and threw his arm around her shoulder, reaching for her hand and threading his fingers through it loosely. He didn't seem to notice the girls.
"Jace," she whispered "remember the first time we rode the train together?"
"Ummm," he said distractedly, and she could tell he wasn't really thinking about it.
"The time the Forsaken -"
"The time you jumped through a portal? Yeah, I remember that" he said sternly. She rolled her eyes and hid the fact that she secretly found his protectiveness endearing.
"Those are the same girls."
He glanced in the direction she was looking. "The same girls as what?"
"They were here that time. Giggling. Flirting ensued."
"Aw, Clary," he said, a grin breaking out over his face, his tawny eyes dancing with amusement "jealousy is a cute look on you."
"Shut up," she said, narrowing her eyes. He chuckled and leant down, closing his eyes and pressing his nose against her neck, breathing in her scent. He kissed her neck once softly and used his free hand to cup the side of her face.
"Jace – they're staring."
"Let them stare" he mumbled, completely in his own world. He pushed a strand of hair that was curling on the side of her face back around her ear, his eyes still closed.
"Jace, while your public displays of affection are very sweet, I really -" he had used the force of his hand on her face to turn hers towards him and had swept his lips down onto hers while she was in the middle of her sentence. Surprised, her eyes widened before closing softly as she got into the kiss. She felt Jace smile against her lips and pull back, satisfied. She glanced over at the girls who were staring at her with pure hatred in their eyes.
"It's nowhere near as cute on them" he whispered and she laughed, snuggling into his arm as he leant back against the window.