So, hi, it's been a long time since I posted anything here, but I found this buried on my laptop today and I figured I might as well do something with it. This is sizzy lemons-the only lemons I've ever posted, and probably the only one I will for a while more. If you're not up for lemons, turn back now. If you are, then welcome! I hope you enjoy, and review to tell me your thoughts, or if you'd even like to read more from me! Thanks angels!

No copyright infringement intended, all props for the characters and story prompt go to Cassandra Clare and her wonderful Mortal Instruments series-nothing belongs to me.

'Ugh, you zombie bastard. Just die for the love of—' Simon cut off and rolled his eyes. He still couldn't say it. He battered the buttons on the remote control, determined to level up before seven o'clock. He had no idea what Jordan and Maia were doing tonight. They'd been discussing going to a movie but they'd left an hour ago without saying goodbye.

Simon leaned forward in his seat, his brow furrowed, and his tongue sticking between his teeth. His thumb pummelled the X button even though he knew that if he pressed it much more, he'd probably break it. It had begun to get dark but Simon was far too preoccupied to pause the game and switch on the light, and besides, his crazy vampire-vision ensured that he didn't need it.

The doorbell rang and Simon cursed, his character taking a hit when he glanced towards it, momentarily distracted. There were empty coffee cups and half-empty bottles of blood littering the table and floor but Simon wasn't about to waste precious gaming time cleaning. Just as he got a head-shot into a dismembered zombie-corpse, the doorbell rang again, longer and more insistent this time.

He paused the game, much to his displeasure, and marched down the hallway, rumpling his hair with one hand. Yanking open the door to snap at the intruder, he froze when the smell of blood hit his nostrils.

'Hey, Simon. Fancy letting me in?' Isabelle said, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes. Simon always thought he would never really get used to Isabelle's beauty but right now, that was not what he was staring at. She was covered in splatters of blood that looked like they'd been splashed across her body by a flicked a paintbrush.

'Iz—are you OK?' he choked, one hand reaching towards her, though he didn't know what he was intending to do.

She waved her hand dismissively and he caught a glimpse of her electrum whip wrapped around her wrist below the sleeve of her black leather jacket. It too was stained with blood. 'Don't worry. All I need is an iratze and I'll be fine.'

'Why the hell didn't you go back to the Institute?' he asked, opening the door further to let her in.

'You were closer.'

'All right. Give me your jacket.'

She slipped her jacket off to reveal three large scratches across her chest, straight through her angelic power rune, rendering it effectively useless. She drew her stele from her pocket and began to trace an iratze on her collarbone. When she was done, the claw-marks disappeared.

'Well, that's that.'

'What the hell were you fighting?' Simon asked, taking her hand and drawing her into the living room, amazed by how casual she was being.

'Couple of Moloch demons. Alec got two and I got three. Nasty little sons of bitches. They shoot fire out of their eyes,' she said, totally blasé, holding up an arm to reveal a singed sleeve. Simon's eyebrows rose but he didn't say anything. Her eyes flicked around the room and she smiled. 'I see cleaning hasn't been high on the list of priorities.'

'No. I've been saving the world,' he said, indicating the TV.

Isabelle grinned. 'No Jordan?'

'He's out on a date with Maia,' Simon replied. 'Did Alec go home?'

Isabelle flopped onto the couch and propped her enormous heels on the coffee table, perfectly at home. To be fair, she'd spent more time here recently than she had the Institute. Simon had a strong suspicion that she was tired of walking in on Jace and Clary, and he could totally understand that. He'd want out, too. He didn't mind at all that she came here. 'No. Alec went to Magnus'.'

Simon picked up the controller for his video game and sat down next to Isabelle, pressing play as he did so. Almost immediately, he was drawn back into the game and she sat in silence for nearly ten whole seconds before she sighed and kicked her boots off. Simon grinned, catching sight of her pink socks.

'You're going to make me sit here in silence while you murder people?' she asked, pouting.

'They aren't people. They're zombies, threatening the human race. You should be able to identify. You're a protector of the people just like Commander Furious here,' he said, sticking his tongue out again to aid concentration.

'I bet Alec and Magnus aren't playing video games,' she mumbled petulantly.

'Izzy—I really don't want to picture what Magnus and Alec are doing right now, but thank you for the mental image.'

'Well,' she said, and kicked one leg over his so that she was straddling him, 'I could always make you pay attention to me.'

'Uh huh,' he said, his eyes flicking to her face and then back to the screen.

She leaned down and drew her lips across his neck, her hands running down his t-shirt to his waist band. Simon tried in vain to concentrate on the zombie apocalypse but Isabelle was very persistent—a talent of hers. He sighed as she moved her lips to his ear and licked from the lobe to the top, her breath hot against his skin. When her fingers slid into his waistband, he tossed the controller away and grabbed her hips, yanking her closer.

Their mouths clashed together and she pulled his top up, her nails scratching his stomach, and over his head, lips tracing the dip between his pectorals. Simon reached up and pulled her hair out of its high pony-tail, letting it cascade around them in black clouds.

Then, and he wasn't quite sure when he'd done it, he had her pressed up against the far wall and he was pushing hard against her, feeling every curve of her body tight to him. His lips moved to her jaw, and then to her neck where he felt his fangs try to puncture her skin, but he forced them back and carried on the swell of her breasts, between the buttons of her shirt, which looked to be straining.

Without pausing to think, he popped the buttons open and pulled it over her arms. Izzy always wore pretty underwear. Today it was a black and red lace bra, and Simon liked it very much. Her fingers were twisting in his hair, tugging and pulling. He ran one hand down her side, marvelling at the perfect curve of her waist and hip, then around to her ass, and lifted her so she could lock her legs around him.

Again, they suddenly found themselves on the other side of the room, having knocked over a bottle of blood—luckily with a closed lid—and an empty coffee mug, in their desperation. Their tongues were roaming freely and Isabelle kept biting his lip, driving him insane. He could already feel himself hardening under her ministrations. She pushed her chest forward and he slipped his hand around her back to unfasten her bra. When it fell away, he ran his hands over her breasts, feeling her nipples harden.

'Simon,' she groaned into his ear when he kissed his way down her neck again. He laced his hands around her back and pressed her against his chest. He left open-mouthed kisses across her shoulder and then she shoved him back with enough force to surprise him. She unfastened her legs from around him and yanked his jeans undone, then pulled them over his legs.

When she straightened up, Simon grabbed her head and pulled her back to his mouth, using one hand to unfasten her pants. Between the two of them, they managed to get them off, their rush making things more difficult.

Using his incredible vampire strength, he hurled her against the wall again and shoved his body against hers, knowing that he did not need to be gentle with her. Izzy was more than strong enough to handle a little roughness. And she liked it. She was whispering his name as she kissed her way across his throat.

'Fuck,' he hissed as she slid her hands inside his boxers.

'Yes?' she whispered sweetly in his ear.

'Iz…'

When her hand closed around him, his eyes fluttered shut and he dropped his face onto her neck. Isabelle's hand slid back and forward against his cock rapidly, and air hissed between his teeth. He grabbed her hands and pulled them free, then kissed all down her stomach to the waistline of her panties. When he looked up, Izzy was leaning back, grinning, her chest rising and falling rapidly, palms flat against the wall. He noticed she still wore her pink socks.

He flashed to his feet and back to her, running his hands up her bare legs, smooth and silken. There were hard muscles below the satiny skin and he was steadily losing the ability to think straight as she placed her arms over his shoulders. When he lifted her, her legs laced around his waist and he ripped her underwear off, not bothering to get her to unlock her legs to take them off normally. His mouth traced her breasts, his tongue teasing her nipple and she moaned.

Then he tightened his hands on her waist, and pushed her a little higher against the wall. He poised himself at her entrance and she nearly whimpered when he didn't begin immediately. Simon heard it choke off in her throat and grinned. His mouth went to her neck and he licked the skin at her jugular.

'Go ahead,' she gasped, her fingers tight against his back. 'Take it.'

So he felt his fangs lengthen and then he bit down on her skin, relishing her taste as the blood spurted into his mouth, hot and wet. He almost buried himself in her right then, but he wanted to draw this out, let her really feel the pleasure. When he'd taken as much as he dared, he licked the wound again, slowly, sealing it as he went. He planted a kiss over the spot and she moaned again. His head snapped up to look at her and he seized her bottom lip between his teeth.

'Stop moaning like that, for the love of—' he said.

Izzy's eyes were hooded, a slow, sexy smile curving into place on her lips. 'Moaning like what? Like this?' she murmured, and let out the longest, most sensual groan Simon had ever heard her make.

'Isabelle. Please,' he murmured, licking and kissing between her breasts and then up her sternum to her throat. She moaned again, short this time, but with much more feeling. It was the noise she made when she came, and she knew perfectly well what it did to him.

He thought he'd been the one controlling this, but he'd been very wrong. Isabelle was always in control, and he did not care.

'If you do that once more, so help me…' he whispered against her jaw. She pulled his face up so that it was level with hers, looked him straight in the eye, then moved her lips to his ear and nipped the lobe. Then, smiling, she moaned again, high-pitched, hot, and completely ruining.

Simon growled and thrust his hips forward until he was inside her. This time when she groaned, it wasn't because she wanted him to begin, it was because she was extremely glad that he had. He pushed in and out, his pace quick and unrelenting.

Isabelle was very vocal, something Simon deeply enjoyed. She moaned and she called his name and when her soft, warm insides began to vibrate and she pressed her back hard against the wall, her breasts thrusting out in front of her, her fingernails stabbing into his back, Simon nipped her neck again.

And when she came, long and hard, she practically screamed his name. Her head lolled forward onto his shoulder and Simon was fairly certain that she'd just cut his back with her nails but he didn't care about that either. When she breathed his name again into his ear, he found his release, spiralling into oblivion with her.

'I have never, in my life, wished I could say His name more than I do right now … because oh. My. Fucking. That Guy,' he sighed.

Isabelle laughed, a huff of breath against his exposed shoulder, and he carried her across the room to drop down onto the couch. When he pulled out of her, she sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. Simon straightened his boxers and tossed her his clean t-shirt. She caught it without opening her eyes, and drew it over her head. When he sat down next to her, he reached over and drew her hair out of the neckline before kissing her lingeringly.

'Glad you stopped playing Zombie-pocalypse?' she asked, her voice heavy and satisfied.

He cast a glance at the TV which showed his character dead on the ground, bleeding heavily and the words "Press Restart" flashing in garish letters. 'Very,' he replied with a smile.