Music Like No Other
Sum: Of course, Jace bloody Herondale had to be performing at the four day festival, for which she had booked all four bloody days. And then, of course, they just had to cross paths. Clace. Rated M, language. AH. OOC. AU. One-shot.
A/N: Sorry I've been gone so long, my updating is probably going to be very infrequent 'til end April because that's when my two weeks of vacation begin. We Dutch have lots of vacations. We have Carnaval vacation (one week), fall vacation (one week), Christmas vacation (two weeks), May vacation (two weeks), summer vacation (six weeks) and then all sorts of free days inbetween, like a free day before each testweek and so on.
There, some info about the Netherlands. Fun, huh?
But anyway, why I've been gone so long: I was absent from school for a week due to surgery and I had 20 tests over the course of 20 school days. That's a test for each day, with piles of homework inbetween and numerous projects, not to mention directly before the testweek starts.
I hate my life.
Anyway, enough for complaining, on to the story.
Playlist for this one-shot: the Harry Potter soundtrack. For no specific reason, doesn't even match it. Just listen to it, it's awesome. Especially the Deathly Hallows 1 & 2 one.
Just imagine Jace as a sort of Ed Sheeran, but fucking hot as fuck.
Does anyone else have a thing for bony, slim noses and hands?
I do.
...
...
...
It wasn't that she didn't like his music—in fact, she loved it.
The songs were deep, about so much more than other songs these days. It was like his heart was really into it, like he was trying to tell you a story in his own special way; with music.
It was just that she didn't like his personality. More specifically, the way he treated girls.
Even though his songs were so deep and about love and more, he treated girls like shit. Like a piece of chewing gum: when the flavor goes away, you get rid of it.
But of course, he had to perform at the world famous Raziel Music Festival. Even though Idris was small country and not very popular, the Music Fest was very well known. It started out small, but then big artists started noticing the fun festival and it suddenly blew up.
Clary went there every year. Being a painter and a writer/animator for comics, she earned quite well.
And apparently, her mother had had a lot saved for her. So when she passed away, Clary got all her shit.
But now, it seemed to her as if she wasted her money on the festival this year.
Jace bloody Herondale was performing.
Luckily, he started performing on the second day. And then 'til the bloody end.
Kill me.
The first day went well, her brother performed as well as her bestfriend with his band. Being locals, they easily got a spot, seeing they were bloody good, too.
She went with her other best friend, Isabelle Lightwood.
Isabelle was a true beauty, something that Clary hated about her.
She was just perfection, long black hair, dark eyes and a heart shaped face with cheekbones to cut with. Her body was just—damn. Perfect curves, small waist and large hips with a perfect amount of chest to balance out her body. To the festival she wore a floral crop top with galaxy leggings, all stained with colored powder which they shot out of canons everywhere.
Then there was Clary.
Short, 5'2. And a half. She was very proud of that half.
She had freckles all over her face, with a small ass chin and a way too tiny nose, too big eyes and a threehead. Not a forehead, but a threehead. Her hair was a different story. Wild, untamed and infinitely uncontrollable. It was a mess of flaming curls sat messily atop her head.
Then there was her figure. She worked out all right, so she got the waist she had always craved, but her chest and behind were lacking. Seriously lacking. She was a small C-cup with a round, but small ass.
Why?
She always wished for bigger curves, but nope. She just had to keep hoping.
Maybe plastic surgery. Except she was afraid of knives and surgery. And life.
She was wearing a black-and-white-striped crop top, with bloody cut-outs. How could a crop top have cut-outs?
It was already ridiculously small and of course it had to have cut-outs. With that she wore short, bright blue shorts. And of course her green sneakers.
Her phone and wallet were stored safely in her bra, the rest of her stuff in her hired tent.
The tents were ridiculously luxurious.
Although, maybe that was because she hired a luxury tent.
Hmm, figures.
And then she saw him.
And she cheered, with all the other girls.
She may not like him, but she sure fucking loved his music.
She was close enough up front that she could see his delicious abs—he wasn't wearing a shirt—and the tensing muscles in his arms.
She didn't like him as a person, nah-ah, but he was hotttttttt fuck me uppp.
She just wanted to lick his muscles as they clenched, feel them on her hands, on her fingers, on her lips.
She didn't know why she was acting this way, but she felt this undeniable pull to him, she just needed him closer.
And then he started singing.
Dear Lord, if she hadn't already she sure as Hell almost came in her panties now.
And then, like this day couldn't get any better/worse, he looked right at her.
She expected him to maybe wink and look away, but as he sung the lyrics he looked straight at her, fucking her with his eyes.
''But you heard it, darling you look perfect tonight.''
She just fucking melted.
She finally decided to make a move, 'cus he was still undressing her with his eyes, and winked at him, biting her lip.
He, too, bit his lip as the guitar solo came in, she saw his eyes travel over her body.
She was pretty sure she was creaming all over her panties.
Just fucking orgasmic.
His eyes, the music, his abs.
And he just kept glancing at her as he played more songs.
...
...
...
''Izzy?'' And suddenly, the raven haired girl was just gone.
She was getting beer for the both of them, but she guessed the dark eyes beauty was dragged of by another hot guy.
Sure, some guys were giving her looks as well, but that was just because she was fuckable and a girl.
When a girl like Kaelie Whitewillow—a girl she knew from high school—walked by, all the men basically fainted.
That's why she didn't understand why Jace looked at her.
There were tons of hot girls there, but no, he looked at her.
At Clary.
And, her day got even better/worse.
A hand gently, but firmly, wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her into a photo booth.
A golden toned hand pulled the curtain shut and pulled her onto the person's lap.
In shock, she squeaked and slapped whoever it was anywhere she could
As she opened her eyes and her view came into focus, the first thing she saw was gold.
The second thing she saw was bloody Jace Herondale.
She just froze, staring at him.
Up close, he was even hotter.
Sharp ass cheekbones, slaying jawline and a long, thin, bony nose.
He grinned at her, she could see a chipped tooth between perfect pearly ones.
''Hey, sexy.''
She got out of her shock, raising her eyebrows at him.
''X'cuse me, but I'm not interested in becoming one of your many sluts, thankyouvurymuch.'' She slurred. She had had quite a few drinks, but could still think clearly.
She thought, clearly, that he was babilicious.
''Okay, first off: you're hot and fiery,'' he winked, ''me likey. Second, all the 'sluts' that I frequently get in my bed know what they're getting themselves into, I'm a one-time-deal. Third, you are somethin' else.''
She stared at him. ''Whadda'ya mean?''
''I mean, that you something with you would not be a one-time-deal. I would be very interested in being your daily fuck. OrboyfriendorsomethingIdon'tknow, you're hot by the way.''
She may've been drunk, but she definitely caught that.
''Well, kiss me then.''
''Heck yes, but first...'' He dug a coin out of his pocket, putting it in the slot.
She looked over her shoulder and saw the screen start to count down from 5 to 0.
She grinned at him, crashing her mouth to his.
One of them passionately kissing.
One of him with his face buried in her neck.
One of them pulling their shirt off.
One of Clary suddenly without a bra.
One where her head was thrown back, a moan obviously on her tongue and him smugly grinning.
One where the picture was moved, blurry
After he had pleasured her briefly with his fingers to make sure she was slick enough for him to slide in without a problem, he thrust up into her with a snap of his hips.
She squeaked. Luckily, the loud bass of the music drowned out all noise they were making.
They were pretty far back from the populated side of the grounds.
She wound her hands in his hair, holding his head against her neck where he made more hickeys than he previously had, before she started bouncing on his dick.
He was groaning and grunting as their hips met, as he was buried into her deeper and deeper each time.
Her walls were hugging his member tightly.
To the beat of the music around them, they fucked, hard.
Not too long after they started, they both came with a groan and a squeal.
...
...
...
Clary vaguely heard a gasp.
''Clarissa Adele Morgenstern! Did you get laid?!''
Clary lifted her head from her pillow to look at the opening of her luxury tent.
Isabelle.
''Who's under that heap of blankets?''
Clary propped herself up on her elbows, scratching the back of her head.
''Umm—''
''Whashappenin'.'' A voice beside her slurred as a golden head popped up from underneath the blankets.
''Clary!?'' Izzy squeaked, quickly throwing the curtain that seperated her tent from the rest of the world shut.
''Is that Jace bloody Herondale?!''
''At'chur service.'' He lazily put his hand up next to his head before crawling to Clary and spooning her, burying his face in her hair.
''Is Jace Herondale spooning you?!''
''Can you stop squeaking? I've got a headache—''
''—from fucking too hard.'' Jace smugly supplied
Isabelle put her hands in her waist, looking at Clary sternly.
''Outside the tent. Now.''
Clary blushed. ''I'm naked...''
She felt Jace grin against the skin of her neck, before he rolled away and came back a moment later with his shirt in his hands.
She took it, diving underneath the covers to pull it over her head while Jace sneakily peeked at her.
He wolf-whistled.
Isabelle stomped over and smacked the back of his head, grabbing Clary's arm and pulling her out of the tent while she hastily tried to pull the shirt over her butt.
And succeeding. The thing was massive on her.
Jace just grinned before pulling the blankets over him again.
As soon as the two were outside, Isabelle wrapped her arms around Clary and started jumping and squealing.
''You fucked Jace Herondale!''
''Izzy quiet down. Headache.''
''Yeah, yeah, sorry. How was it?!''
Clary hesitated for a while. ''Honestly? Bloody amazing. Those hips, those abs. That di—''
''—Hello ladies.'' A voice interrupted them.
Jace pushed through the curtains, stretching, wearing only his boxers.
He was smirking smugly at her, she suspected he heard quite a bit of what she said.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, planting kisses up and down her neck.
''What're'we talking 'bout?'' She could practically hear his grin.
''Your amazing dick.'' Isabelle helpfully supplied.
Clary pinched her arm. Izzy rubbed the spot, glaring at her.
''Hmm, so I was that amazing, huh?'' He slurred in her ear, nibbling her ear lobe.
''Ugh. You two are too cute, I'mma go to my tent and pretend like I had sex, too.''
Izzy stomped away.
Jace gently pulled her back into the tent, back into bed.
...
...
...
He pulled her with him until they reached the backstage area, he kissed her on the lips lovingly.
''What song do you want me to play?'' He asked, bumping his nose against hers while staring into her green eyes with his golden ones.
''Kiss me.''
''Gladly.'' He pressed a kiss to her lips.
''I meant the song, ya' idiot.'' She grinned at him.
He buried his face in her neck, kissing his way to her ear. ''Just teasing.'' He whispered.
''Jace, we don't got all day!'' His manager called.
He pressed another kiss to her cheek and waved goodbye as he walked backwards towards the stage.
He played, for an entire crowd, but it was like they were the only two people in the room.
Just him and her.
Jace and Clary.
A/N: Cute lil' one-shot. How bou dah.
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