i had just tried to style my hair that's why i'm in the bathroom

magnuslightswood  asked:

need a malec fic prompt? hmmm how about: after exhausting and long day w client (maybe some annoying demon idk) alec wants to do something nice for magnus so he tries to surprise him with a romantic date (alec doesn't know much about surprise dates, so he fails adorably) at magnus' apartment and even sets up a bubble bath just for "magnus" and some cute candle dinner(or if you come up with something even cuter) <3 haha I'm sorry if this prompt sucks that's all I could think of :3^^

Yaaaasss Magnus deserves to be taken care of here we go

Title: Lavenders Blue

Fandom: Shadowhunters/The Mortal Instruments

——

It had taken a while for Alec to realize that even warlocks have their limits.

Alec was not claiming to be an expert on magic, how it was used, how it affected the person using it, etc. He knew that magic could be as strenuous as physical combat (Alec had the scars to prove it), and Alec always overheard Magnus when he had a morning appointment with a client.

Magnus always sounded weary afterwards, especially if said client was a demanding asshole. Which happened more often than not. Alec would come out of the bedroom once the client had left, only to see Magnus looking peaky and worn; his skin would sheen with sweat, and Alec remembered once that he had to catch his boyfriend before he passed out completely, despite Magnus making feeble attempts to stand, stay conscious.

“I’m fine, Alexander, really,” Magnus would say, “nothing I can’t handle.”

It was obvious that Magnus was lying (possibly for his benefit), but Alec could see that it was wearing him down.

Today was the same. Alec sat in the bedroom, as a few clients had expressed that having a Shadowhunter just lounging in the room made them uncomfortable, as if they thought Alec was going to pull out a seraph blade and attack them right there. He could hear the client- some stuffy rich woman dressed in expensive furs- talking loudly, her nasally voice echoing off the walls.

“Right, well, Warlock Bane, I didn’t come here for a mediocre summoning,” she said, “when I ask you to do a job I expect nothing less than perfection!”

Alec cringed as he heard Magnus’s reply.

“I do apologize, I’m just a little worn out from an earlier client is all.” Magnus was obviously tired, his words slightly slurred from lack of sleep. Alec could imagine him rubbing his eyes, smearing his immaculate glittery eye shadow in the process. A soft groan sounded, “I’m sure I’ll be able to finish once I’ve replenished my magic-”

“I don’t have time to wait, warlock. Either it’s done now or I take my business elsewhere-”

“Ma’am, I assure you, I-”

Alec could hear them moving, the scraping of chair legs against the floor no doubt, as the woman berated him uselessly. Magnus sounded desperate, almost pleading as they moved around the living room; Alec didn’t even realize he had moved himself until he found himself storming into the living room amidst the woman throwing a tantrum.

“-tterly inappropriate and unprofessional!” the woman was yelling at an obviously exhausted Magnus, who looked ready to collapse any second.

That was not happening on Alec’s watch. Swiftly, he moved in just a Magnus’s knees started to buckle, ignoring the woman’s gasp of shock as he appeared by the warlock’s side.

“And why would the High Warlock of Brooklyn have a Shadowhunter in his apartment?” the woman sneered as Magnus’s eyes fluttered, the man falling heavily against Alec’s chest. Alec returned the glare, arching a brow.

“The High Warlock of Brooklyn is my boyfriend,” Alec stated firmly, narrowing his gaze, “and you need to leave.”

The woman looked like a fish as she gaped, opening and closing her ed lipsticked mouth, “But this job wasn’t completed-”

“Leave.” Alec ordered, adding after she stared at him for a few seconds, “Now.”

The woman ruffled up her furs, stalking out of the loft with a glare and a slam of the door. Magnus was limp in Alec’s arms, and up close, he could see the damage done by days of using magic and performing spells. His golden skin was pale, with a heavy layer of sweat. His pristine makeup was smudged in some areas, and Alec could see his hair coming undone from it’s beautiful style.

But the bags under his eyes were evident, deep bruises that blackened the skin. Alec carefully swooped Magnus up off the floor, cradling him as a mother would her child. Padding his way to the bathroom, he kept Magnus close as he managed to crouch down, reaching around him to turn on the faucet in the tub.

When he first moved into the apartment, Alec had never been sure as to why Magnus took baths. In his opinion, it was a waste of time, and you were probably just bathing in dirty water by the end of it.

“Everyone should have a bubble bath at least once in their life, Alexander,” was Magnus’s explanation at the time, right before Magnus had caught him by surprise and yanked him into the tub fully clothed.

After getting the water warm, Alec eyed the bottles that lined the windowsill- blue and pink and green with all different scents and fruits that Alec had never really paid attention to. He himself took showers, so there was no need for frivolous things like bubbles to accompany him. Pursing his lips, he strained reaching over his unconscious boyfriend to grab a purple bottle decorated with a string of dark blue flowers.

“Lavender….” Alec said to himself, reading the name. Flipping open the cap, he sniffed it; it was pleasant enough, and he remembered Isabelle saying something about lavender being good for headaches. Alec glanced at Magnus’s prone form. It wasn’t a headache, but it would have to do. With one arm wrapped protectively around Magnus, he maneuvered the other to turn the open bottle upside down and a trail of goopy purple poured from the mouth and into the tub.

Soon enough, after Alec used his free hand to swirl the soap around, the tub was full of bubbles, the smell of lavender making his eyes tear and his throat itch. But Alec endured, moving to carefully strip Magnus of his clothes (careful not to disturb him and touch anywhere he shouldn’t) and lower him into the tub.

After what seemed like five minutes, Alec was getting frustrated. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t get Magnus to sit properly so he wouldn’t slip chin deep into the water, and Alec was pretty sure he was allergic to this lavender stuff because it burned; his eyes felt like they were on fire as tears began to leak freely. His hands were covered with light purple bubbles, and it was while he was trying to massage Magnus’s neck did the warlock wake up, blinking in confusion as Alec leaned over the rim of the tub.

“Mmmm….. Alexander?” Magnus’s voice was soft, if not a little hoarse. Alec clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the dip of Magnus’s collar bone. He just looked so tired, barely able to open his eyes as he tried to sit up.

“Just relax, Magnus,” Alec said softly, running his hands over Magnus’s chest. Magnus crinkled his brow, raising an eyebrow as Alec tried to figure out where he could put his hand; every inch of skin was covered in bubbles, and Alec knew he was probably crying from the potent smell.

“Are you crying?” Magnus asked.

Alec scoffed, “It’s this stupid lavender stuff. I think I’m allergic.”

“I can get you some medicine-” Magnus was already moving to snap his fingers, his hand visibly shaking as he made a feeble attempt. Alec grabbed his hand, rubbing hsi thumb across Magnus’s knuckles. Water dripped down his sleeve, making him shiver.

“You need to stop using magic for now,” Alec chided him softly, “just let me take care of you, okay?”

Alec could see Magnus was trying to fight a grin as he leaned his head back against Alec’s chest, slipping up to his neck in the water.

“Okay,” he said. Alec chuckled, replying, “Yeah?”

Magnus nodded, and Alec kissed his cheek before slathering lavender smelling bubbles onto the warlock’s cheek, making him giggle. Alec shook his head, but now he knew Magnus was right; bubble baths were essential, and Alec made sure to have one himself in the near future.

—–

Sorry it took so long for me to get to actually writing this, I was out all day.

You can find this on my AO3 here

I’M TAKING FIC PROMPTS

#129 you relapse from your addiction *requested*
  • Louis: A lit cigarette hung from your lips, filling your lungs with smoke that clouded your brain and subsided your ugly thoughts for minutes. It felt - good, staring death right in face. You kept looking through the thick glass of the door, hoping Louis hadn't crawled out of bed. After a few glances, you finally sighed. Leaning against the railing on your porch, huffing in the toxins - the door slammed behind you, making you drop the cigarette. "I thought you were wearing your patches." He remarked, you slowly turned to face him. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his lips in a straight line. His eyes poured into you, as regret filled your stomach. "I forgot." You mumbled, stomping the glowing light underneath your house shoes. "It was silly of me to actual trust you." His voice was sharp. "I'm sorry. I'm not perfect, I make mistakes. You have no idea how much it drains me to come back from smoking!" You yelled, wrapping your arms tightly around your chest. Stomping your foot on the light once again for emphasis. A small sigh left his lips, as his hands came out of his front pockets. Finding them hugging you with all he had. "I know baby, but I just want you to get better. For me, for you, for our children."
  • Niall: It burned as you gulped down the liquid, your tenth bottle of the night. You tried, so hard to the point were every step hurt and your heart grew in anticipation when you saw a pub. Niall went out for the night, apparently going to hang with the boys but you didn't care. It meant you were alone with your bottles that you had saved over time. You were too pissed to hear the front door jingle, meaning Niall was home mid-gulp of some vodka. "Babe, I'm ho-" The word was left hanging when his eyes met your body, lying on the floor with littered bottles surrounding you. Along with one hanging lossy in your hand. He ran a hand through his blond hair, tugging at the brown roots. Biting his tongue, forcing himself not to yell at you. But it was so hard, he just wanted to understand how much it hurts you and him. Sighing, he walked into the living room. Prying the vodka from your hands even though you tried to protest but you just trailed your arms. "It's going to be okay, baby." His bit his bottom lip and brought you into his arms bridal style and carrying you up to the bedroom. "It's going to be okay."
  • Harry: He knew something was up when you brought out your winter clothes in the middle of spring. Claiming you just wanted to see if they still fit, but of course they would, it was only a few months ago when you wore them. He didn't protest though, and continued his day. It was when he really started to worry, was when he saw you in along sleeved t-shirt and jeans. It was so fucking hot outside, he didn't understand. Completely oblivious to the fact that cuts covered your arms and legs , burning through your flesh making you want to do it again but you couldn't because you were already so damn hot in your clothes. "Baby, are you okay?" He mumbled, grazing his thumb across the top of your hand on the way home, you nodded. As his hands were removed from your hand, past your pulse (which was beating faster than normal as panic set in) up to the edge of your sleeve. "Are you sure?" He asked, tears already filling his eyes, removing the sleeve from your arm and sobbing. "Oh my god, baby." He choked, pulling over to the side of the rode and taking your arm into his face. Kissing everything, the salty tears stinging the fresh wounds. "You promised though." He cried, you tried to jerk your arm away but he kept a firm grip on it. "Never again, never again."
  • Liam: You were doing so good, Liam was always there helping you but making a calendar. Every day you would fill out what you ate and if you felt better about yourself, he really was such a sap sometimes. But it helped, you were on the road to recovery. Then tour started again, Liam begged you to come with him but you couldn't bare to take away from his fun by being a burden. The first few days were okay, until the few days turned into weeks. And by the fourth, you were skipping everything. You had know idea how it turned to this. You were doing so good, the regret of giving up your battle made you starve more. Swallowing tears instead of food became a regular, until your tears had dried out. A nothingness replacing everything feeling of hope you had to getting better. "I got a break off of work and I'm coming home." Liam giggled through the phone. You smiled, bringing your knees to your chest. "How have you been?" He asked for about the hundredth time you've been talking. "Fine." You replied once again. Silence filled the receiver heart skipping beats. What if he knows? His mum was over a few days ago but she couldn't have noticed, could she? "(Y/n), I know, stop lying to me." "What?" You fumbled with the words. "My mum told me, that's why I'm coming home for a tad, because you need me right now." Your stomach dropped and you felt as if you were going to puke. "Liam -" "No, stop it. I'm coming home and then your coming on your with me. End of discussion."
  • Zayn: Three, six at a time you swallowed with a sip of water. The pain subsiding for only seconds before you piling more pills into your hand. Periodically looking out of the door to make sure Zayn wasn't anywhere near. Shoving more, your head became dizzy, thoughts running through your head. Shit. It was all you could think as your vision went in and out. You were dying, and you were scared shitless. "Zayn!" You screamed with all your might before nothing was seen through your pupils. Your screams filled the house. He paused his video game, before jogging up the stairs. Pulling up his joggers when he stepped into the bathroom. There you were, with pain killers and blood oozing out of your mouth. "Babe! Babe!" He screamed but you didn't answer. Panic set in, bringing you into his chest as he didn't the only he knew how to do. Stick his hand down your throat. He gagged, but relief washed over him when you threw up all the pills you took over the past few minutes along with water that washed them down. Tears were brimming your eyes from the acid scratching up your throat. Zayn rubbed your back with the same tears in his eyes. "I'm so glad you're alive." He choked, hugging you closely once you were done puking. And instead of yelling, he held you with all of his being. He never wanted to let you go, the stinging in his chest still aching, but even worse when he went to the doctors with you the next morning,