I wanna request a story about Jace Herondale x Reader. Where reader and Jace are exes and dated before meeting Simon and Clary. Jace gets jealous over how close reader is with son?
You Were Mine First- Jace Herondale
OMG tysm for the request i love writing about Jace <33 (#1 bookbf if you ask) i hope you'll like this !!
The New York Institute had never been meant to feel like home.
And yet, for her, it had become exactly that.
She arrived from London with a single suitcase and too many reasons not to go back. Her parents’ voices still echoed in her head: sharp, bitter, always circling the same arguments until the air itself felt poisoned. The Clave had decided it was best for her to stay in New York, hosted by the Institute, surrounded by people who understood her world and wouldn’t ask her to choose sides.
She hadn’t expected kindness.
She hadn’t expected Isabelle Lightwood.
Izzy had taken one look at her on her first day: awkward, jet-lagged, emotionally exhausted, and had decided she was hers. Best friends almost immediately. Shared late-night talks, borrowed clothes, whispered confessions. It was Isabelle who taught her how to walk the halls of the Institute like she belonged there.
And it was the Institute that introduced her to Jace Herondale.
The boy who lived with the Lightwoods, the boy everyone noticed.
From the moment she stepped inside, there was something about him,something sharp and golden and impossible to ignore. He moved like he was aware of being watched, like the world was a stage he pretended not to care about. Arrogant, sarcastic, infuriatingly beautiful, devastatingly magnetic.
Her crush wasn’t subtle. Not to Isabelle, at least.
“Tell me everything,” she had whispered one night, lying on Izzy’s bed, eyes bright, impatient to make a move on him.
“Everything?” Isabelle had smirked.
“Everything.”
Jace stealing hearts wasn’t news. Girls, boys… he left impressions everywhere he went. She knew that. She told herself not to hope. There was something so challenging about him that she loved so much she couldn’t help but want to try.
And somehow, against all expectations, he noticed her too.
Two weeks after she arrived at the Institute, they were dating.
Jace wasn’t soft in the way people expected softness to look. He didn’t pour his heart out or say too much. He loved through actions—midnight training sessions that turned into laughter, surprise sneak-outs beyond the wards, hands brushing hers like it meant something sacred. He memorized the way she smiled. He kissed her like the world might end tomorrow.
And every time they kissed, she felt weightless.
Every time they parted, she felt the smallest ache, like something precious was always just out of reach.
They lasted months. Almost a year.
She was terrifyingly certain that she had found the love of her life.
On the morning of their first anniversary, she found a letter slipped beneath her door, Jace’s handwriting, of course.
Her hands shook as she read it. It was beautiful. Vulnerable. Honest in the way only he could be when he wrote instead of spoke. At the end, an invitation: a special date. Midnight.
She spent the entire day preparing.
Dress. Hair. Makeup. Isabelle watched from the doorway, offering commentary she pretended was judgment but couldn’t quite hide the smile behind.
“He’s lucky,” Isabelle had said. “Don’t let him forget that.”
But as the hours passed, Jace didn’t appear.
She told herself not to worry. Jace always had a plan.
What she didn’t know what she couldn’t know was that he was in Brooklyn. Standing in a stranger’s apartment. Helping a red-haired girl named Clary Fray whose mother had just disappeared under circumstances no one could yet explain.
So when the Institute doors finally opened that night, she wasn’t expecting to see him.
And she definitely wasn’t expecting to see him with her.
Jace walked in beside a pretty, young redhead, too close, too confident with him. Her stomach dropped so violently she nearly tripped over her own feet.
She was in the kitchen with Isabelle, Alec leaning against the counter with his usual judgmental expression. Church was lying on a chair, unimpressed by everything.
Then she saw Jace look at her.
He opened his mouth to explain, but she didn’t wait.
Out the door, down the hall, heart in her throat…
…And straight into someone else.
She stumbled, lost her balance, and hit the floor hard. Before embarrassment could fully register, someone was already helping her up.
She looked up. It was a boy she had never seen around before. He was tall, dark-eyed, wearing a pair of glasses a bit too big for his face. He smiled nervously.
“Uh—hi,” he said, offering his arm. “I’m Simon.”
And just like that, everything changed.
Jace rushed through the Institute, her name spilling from his mouth like a curse.
His footsteps echoed loudly in the halls, each unanswered call tightening something in his chest. God…. why was she like this? Always assuming the worst, always pulling away before he could explain. Didn’t she know didn’t she feel that he had eyes only for her?
He dragged a hand through his hair, breath uneven. Protecting people was what Shadowhunters did. It was his duty. It was instinct. How could she not understand that?
Except… this wasn’t just anyone.
Confusion blurred his vision, panic settling deep and unwelcome. For the first time in longer than he would ever admit, Jace Herondale felt like he was losing control. Losing her. And that thought,sharp and final, hurt more than any blade.
She was standing near the stairs, laughing softly, her shoulders relaxed in a way they hadn’t been with him for weeks. She was giggling (giggling!!!) at something said by a tall, skinny boy with dark hair and glasses.
Something ugly twisted in Jace’s chest.
His steps slowed, anger dissolving into something far more dangerous. Jealousy burned hot and irrational, coiling through him like poison. He had never seen her look at anyone else that way. Not once.
And suddenly, the Institute felt too small.
Because for the first time, the thought hit him hard and merciless.
What if she wasn’t running from him?
What if she was already walking toward someone else?
“Well, Simon,” Jace said, his voice deceptively calm even though his head was spinning so hard it almost hurt, “I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable.”
Simon blinked at him, clearly confused.
“For your information,” Jace added sharply, “she’s my girlfriend.”
The words had barely left his mouth before she cut him off.
“Yeah,” she snapped, her voice trembling despite her effort to keep it steady. “Your one-year girlfriend. The one you ignored all day just to spend time with another girl.”
Jace turned toward her, stunned.
“How long have you known her,” she continued, tears burning behind her eyes, “since you already dragged her here? Is it official, then?”
Simon looked at her, then at him, completely confused. What was even going on?
For the first time, Jace had nothing ready. No clever remark. No perfectly sharpened excuse.
“Y/N, have you lost your mind?” he finally said, frustration slipping through. “That girl just lost her mother. She disappeared. We think Valentine is behind it. Her house was destroyed, she killed a demon—what exactly was I supposed to do?”
He exhaled sharply, then gestured toward Simon.
“And the only person who shouldn’t be here is him, by the way.”
Because he had a point.
Jace always had a point.
But then she thought about Clary. About how she had walked into the room, instantly catching everyone’s attention.
About the way Clary looked at him.
And suddenly, none of his words mattered.
She knew that look. She felt it in her bones. It was the same one she used to give him in quiet corners, in moments when the world fell away and it was just the two of them. The look that said you see me. The look that said I’m yours.
“Just… just leave me alone, alright?” she muttered, her voice breaking. “Oh—and happy anniversary, by the way.”
She scoffed, then turned and walked away before he could stop her.
She barely made it to her bedroom before everything crashed down.
She slid down to the floor, sobbing.
Moments later, there was a knock.
“Jace, go away!” she shouted, her voice raw.
“It’s Izzy,” a soft, familiar voice replied.
Y/N reluctantly opened the door.
She was a mess:cheeks flushed red, eyes swollen, tears streaking her face. Isabelle didn’t say a word. She simply pulled her into her arms.
“Shhh,” Izzy murmured, holding her tightly. “It’s okay. Let it out. I’ve got you.”
After that night, she never spoke to Jace again.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶
She stopped showing up to lessons. Stopped training. Stopped pretending everything was fine.
Instead, she spent her mornings with Simon (the Mundane, as everyone insisted on calling him.). Simon, who listened. Simon, who didn’t demand explanations. Simon, who made her laugh even when her chest felt permanently bruised and sore.
Meanwhile, Jace and Clary grew closer. Too close.
Their chemistry was impossible to ignore: you could feel it even rooms apart. They moved like they were drawn to each other, finishing sentences, sharing looks that lingered too long. Whenever she saw them together, it felt like her heart was breaking all over again, piece by piece.
And somehow, Simon was the only one who managed to glue those pieces back together. With his dumb jokes. His ridiculous stories about his band. His passionate, borderline unhinged rants about DnD.
He made her feel safe. Seen. Wanted.
One day, they were sitting on the couch. He was showing her a Marvel comic book when he suddenly stopped ranting about superheroes and looked at her differently.
“Uh—so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was thinking maybe I could take you out. There’s this Japanese place in Brooklyn. You’ve never had sushi, right?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that a date?”
He instantly turned red. “Just—just put on something nice.”
She smiled despite herself. He was adorable when he tried to be confident.
Her heart ached for just a second, because that awkward bravery reminded her of someone else.
Stop it, she told herself. Get over it. He chose Clary. Move on.
“A cute guy just asked you out,” she whispered to herself. “Don’t ruin this.”
She rushed to tell Isabelle, who smiled brightly—though there was something unreadable in her eyes.
That evening, she got ready carefully. Isabelle had to leave briefly with Alec, promising to come back and help with her hair. Y/N was halfway through her makeup when someone knocked.
“Yeah, come in!” she called, assuming it was Izzy.
He stood there, golden and ruined and impossible; his eyes locked on her like she was the only thing left in the world.
And suddenly, the room felt far too small.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her voice sharper than she felt. “Go away.”
He leaned against the doorframe instead, arms crossed loosely, like this was exactly where he belonged. Like he hadn’t just shattered her peace by stepping back into her space.
“Go away,” she repeated, louder. “Before I start screaming and someone forces you to.”
She turned back to the mirror, hands trembling as she brushed bronzer along her cheekbones, focusing on her reflection instead of him.
“Listen,” she said bitterly, “you should go back before your girlfriend loses her mind because you’re not glued to her side.”
She waited for it: the usual comeback. Something sarcastic, cutting, perfectly timed.
And for the first time, it felt like she was really seeing him. Not through love, not through anger: Just a boy standing in her doorway, jaw clenched, eyes too intense, pride cracking at the edges.
“Just… why?” she broke. “Why are you making this so difficult? I’m finally trying to move on.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then, cold and sharp, “Of all the guys in the Institute, you chose the worst one. The Mundane?” His mouth twisted. “Seriously? What a glowdown.”
She laughed, humorless. “Oh, I don’t care what you think. If you hadn’t been so busy giving those looks to Clary, maybe we’d still be together. But clearly, you don’t want this.”
She exhaled harshly. “I don’t even know why I said that.”
“Oh, you know exactly why,” Jace snapped. “You messed everything up, and now you’re pretending that hanging out with that loser will fix it, because you can’t accept that you did something wrong.”
“And,” he added, gaze dropping to her short black lace dress, “nice wardrobe update. Don’t remember you owning that.”
“It’s Izzy’s,” she cut in immediately.
“Oh, of course,” he scoffed. “Anything to impress the nerd. Though honestly? He’d probably prefer you in an oversized Harry Potter sweatshirt.”
Her grip tightened around the brush as she dusted highlighter across her cheeks and nose, hands shaking.
“How long?” he asked suddenly.
She froze. “How long what, Jace? Can you just stop?”
She turned to face him, voice trembling. “Don’t act like you didn’t move on fast. You’re already hooking up with Clary.”
“How long have you liked him?” Jace fired back. “And for your information, we’re not hooking up. She’s new. She only knows me. We’re friends.”
His eyes hardened. “Hard concept, right? For once you’re not the only vulnerable girl with family issues. You’re not the center of the universe anymore.”
Something inside her shattered.
His expression faltered. “I- I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t know why I said that.”
He reached for her arm, but she stepped back.
“Jace, please,” she whispered. “Don’t make this harder than it already is. I don’t even know if I like Simon. I’m just… confused. I need time.”
“Time for what?” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
He laughed, sharp, broken. “Do you think you’re the only one falling apart? I’m standing here humiliating myself, trying to prove I’m better than a Mundane… just because you don’t even see it anymore.”
She took in the scene in seconds: Jace rigid and cornered, Y/N trembling, half-ready for a date she wasn’t sure she wanted.
For once, even she didn’t know what to say.
Y/N’s eyes met Isabelle’s.
Izzy raised an eyebrow, silently mouthing, Should I kick him out?
Y/N scoffed softly, then turned back to him, chest tight.
“Jace,” she said, her voice breaking despite herself. “One last time. Why did you come here? Why interrupt me, when I was finally trying to move on?”
“Trying to move on?” he scoffed. “It hasn’t even been a month since you went no contact, and you’re already drooling over some nerd.”
“Admit it,” he continued bitterly. “It’s because he’s in a band. I bet if I told you I could play the drums, you’d be swooning over me again.”
She rolled her eyes hard. “At this point you’re just saying nonsense. And how the hell do you even know he’s in a band?”
Jace smirked. “I know more than you think, missy. I know that Mundane better than you ever will. And trust me: he doesn’t even like you. He likes girls. You just happen to be the first girl he met when he stepped in here.”
Izzy snorted. “If he’d seen me first, he’d be falling for me.”
“Who wouldn’t,” Jace muttered.
She sprayed fixing mist over her face, hands steady now; Not because she was calm, but because she was exhausted. She turned, grabbing her bag.
“By the way,” she said quietly, “I’m ready. If you’d just—”
Because when she turned back, she saw it.
Something unfamiliar in Jace’s eyes. Not anger. Not arrogance.
“Wait… what—?” she whispered.
Despite everything, she still cared. She always had. Ex, boyfriend, friend. It didn’t matter. Seeing that look in his eyes made her heart twist painfully.
He looked at her like he was terrified she would disappear if he blinked.
And suddenly, she knew what that feeling in her chest was.
The kind she had never truly let go of.
“Y/N,” Jace said quietly, “you really want me to say it, huh?”
“I don’t know why I didn’t reach out that night,” he continued, voice low and unsteady. “I didn’t realize how badly I broke you. Our first anniversary! And I wasn’t there.”
“Oh, shut up,” she murmured weakly. “It wasn’t entirely your fault. I was being overdramatic-”
“No,” he interrupted. “Let’s say it was both of us.”
“But the only thing that matters is this: I can’t move on. If you can, then maybe you’re stronger than me.” He hesitated. “I thought spending time with Clary would have helped. She’s… incredible.”
Something shifted in her chest.
“But she’s not you,” he finished softly. “All I want is you. I know I’m bad at this—at feelings, reassurance, everything. But maybe… maybe you could help me. If you want.”
She glanced at Isabelle, eyes silently asking the question she was too scared to say out loud.
“You want to try again?” she whispered.
Jace nodded immediately. “More than anything.”
Her breath catched. For a second, she couldn't move.
“Well,” he added lightly, trying to hide how terrified he was, “I was expecting at least a kiss.”
She didn't hesitate, without wasting any second, she rushed into his arms.
He spun her around, laughing softly before pulling her into a slow, tender kiss. Nothing rushed, nothing desperate. Just familiar. Just home.
“How I missed you,” he murmured against her lips.
“Overdramatic,” she teased.
“I thought I lost you forever,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Sorry if I’m being honest.”
“So,” he added casually, “about that date with the nerd… I haven’t had sushi in a long time.”
Izzy clapped her hands. “Oh, I’d love to join. No one cooked tonight anyway.”
“I’m glad,” Jace said sincerely, remembering Izzy's cooking.
“Maybe Clary could come too,” Y/N suggested.
Jace tilted his head. “That sounded weird. I almost preferred you jealous.”
“Look who’s talking,” she shot back.
Izzy grinned. “So… should we tell Simon?”
The room went quiet again.
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When Y/N told Simon, he didn’t look hurt.
If anything, he looked… relieved. Excited, even.
“That’s great,” he said honestly. “Clary’s been through so much… she deserves something good. And Izzy? Izzy joining us is a win no matter what.”
For a moment, Y/N wondered if Jace had been right all along: Simon liked girls.
Alec came too, of course, though he looked like he would have preferred grabbing takeaway and eating in silence back at the Institute. Still, the dinner turned out to be perfect. Laughter filled the table, stories overlapped, and for an hour and a half Valentine, demons, and grief didn’t exist: They were just friends, sharing a meal and silly conversations.
After dinner, Jace found her.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked quietly.
She followed him a few steps away from the group. He looked nervous—actually nervous—and that alone made her heart race.
“I asked you something almost a month ago,” he said, eyes searching hers. “A date. Late at night. Do you remember?”
“Of course,” she smiled. “Where?”
“Just… knock on my door thirty minutes after midnight,” he said. “I promise it’s worth it.”
Curiosity buzzed through her all the way back to the Institute. She literally couldn't think about anything else for the following hours.
Later, in the kitchen, Isabelle tried to make coffee. Somehow, even coffee became a disaster.
Eventually, the girls headed to their rooms. Isabelle followed Y/N, smirking.
“So,” Izzy said, leaning against the doorframe, “you’re seeing Jace later.”
“Alec told me. I had to work for it,” she grinned. Then, softer, “You know… he’s never been like this with anyone else. You’re lucky.”
That didn’t calm her nerves at all.
When the time finally came, Y/N slipped into her favorite soft nightgown and walked carefully down the hall. She stopped in front of Jace’s door and knocked twice.
It opened almost immediately.
He pulled her into a slow kiss before she could even speak, closing the door behind them.
“So,” he said quietly, forehead resting against hers, “I don’t know if this still technically counts as our anniversary or…”
“I don’t care,” he interrupted. “What I care about is this.” He took a breath. “I can’t lose you.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“I know we’ve only known each other a year,” he continued, voice low and vulnerable, “but everything that happened made one thing clear. You’re the one I need beside me. The one I want to wake up next to.”
He hesitated, then slipped off the ring he always wore. The only thing he had left of his family.
“I don’t want to rush you,” he said quickly. “But I wanted to ask… if someday, when you’re ready, you’d want this. Us. Forever.”
He gently slid the ring onto her finger.
“Jace,” she whispered, eyes wide, “are you asking me to marry you?”
“Not today,” he said softly. “Not unless you want to. Think of it as a promise. A reminder. I’m here. And whenever you’re ready, we’ll do it. Just us. Forever.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them.
He caught her as she trembled, pulling her into his arms, fingers brushing through her hair.
“You could’ve just said no,” he teased gently. “No need to fall apart.”
She laughed through her tears, swatting his arm. “Idiot. Of course I don’t want to say no.”
That night, they stayed together, wrapped in warmth, sighs, quiet kisses, whispered words that didn’t need to be spoken out loud.
And when she woke in the middle of the night, tangled up with him, ring warm against her skin, she finally understood.
