(Jily; James comes home late from a mission. For anon.)
"James Potter! You absolute git!” Was the first thing James heard as he walked into the door of his house and a second later he saw a flash of red as Lily practically flung herself at him.
A grunt came from James as he was pushed back against the door while his wife held onto him tightly, a jumble of words coming from her- most of which James didn’t catch.
After a second, he gently stroked her hair and kept saying. “Lily. Lily. Calm down, okay? Just calm down. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
A sob was the only response he received from his wife who curled into him more. “Y-you’re late! I started to expect the worse.”
Before she could burst into tears, James crouched down to her height and gently put his finger under her chin.
“Hey, I’m here now, okay? I’ll always be here for you, little dove.”
She nodded and James extended back to his full height, leaning against the wall as he gently coaxed his wife into kissing him, using the kiss as a way to comfort her and prove he was there.
That he would always be there for her.
No matter what.
(Sirius walking in on James and Lily for “anon”)
Lily’s fingers trail across James’s cheek, caressing his jawline. Her nails tickle slightly as she does, and James lets out a small, infinitesimal bubble of laughter. “I prefer you with the glasses,” she ponders, smiling slightly.
“You didn’t seem to care an hour ago,” James says with a grin, and leans slightly across his bed to kiss his girlfriend. His tongue nudges her lips, and he tastes faintly of mint and sugar and herself, making Lily smile into it and deepen it. Her fingers tug at his dark mass of unruly hair, locks slipping through the gaps; it’s like they were a few hours back but rougher. James’s leg hooks over hers and he rolls on top of her, kissing Lily harder; she moans into it, her hands fisting in his hair and tugging, making his scalp burn.
Jily: sex after the Prefects’ meeting, for infalliblelovebirds.
warning: explicit content after the cut.
"You’re so going to get it later," she whispers to him as his hand drifts up her leg. "You remember that you dug your own grave, because I’m going to make you beg for mercy later."
"Is that a promise?" he asks.
She doesn’t deign to respond, because the last of the prefects have filed in and they have to start the meeting—even if James’ hand, at the waistband of her skirt now, doesn’t appear to be stopping anytime soon.
I have been working on this for far too long.
Title: Better Than Jam
Category: Smut, Humour, Exhibitionism
Summary: Sirius gets excited about breakfast, and Lily and James discover a new use for the Invisibility Cloak.
Lily had been steeling herself for the past twenty minutes, scrambling for some kind of resistance against her own emotions that would make it easier to say what she needed to say. Somewhere in between hastily packing up the belongings she’d left at his apartment over the course of the five months since he’d moved in and practicing the speech that was causing her so much distress in the first place, she’d managed to convince herself that this was going to be easy. Eventually, she’d had nothing to do but sit and wait, and try not to wonder—not to care— where it was he might be that was preventing him from getting home when he usually did. Now, she was curled up on what had once been her side of the bed, and, despite her best efforts, she felt her breath hitch when she heard his voice.
"What are you doing here?" He sounded cautious, and weary. He didn’t want another fight. Perhaps his automatic expectation that there would be one proved that what she was about to do was the right thing for both of them. She wasn’t sure whether that made her happy or not.
"I…" Lily’s own voice was hoarse. Like she’d been crying. She didn’t think she had, but maybe she just hadn’t noticed. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I need to talk to you."
James sighed. “Look, Lily—”
"This isn’t about last night," she said. Something twisted painfully in her stomach as she realized she didn’t even remember what last night’s screaming match had been about— only that there had been a lot of low blows and doors slamming and that it was perhaps the worst one yet. All of the tension from the last few weeks came to the surface, and, in the heat of the moment, they were unable to hold themselves back.
"Then what is it about? Because quite frankly, I don’t have the energy to deal with anymore drama."
The truth was, they were just kids, and everything was falling apart, including the very thing that had once kept her going. Somewhere, something had gone wrong, and the hope that she’d clung to was disappearing. The pressure of being in the Order, along with the loss of friends and family and the fact that they were, after all, only eighteen years old, was proving to be too much. She had to do something. She wasn’t strong enough for this.
She took a deep breath. And then…
"I think we should break things off."
James froze. He had been in the middle of removing his beat-up old jacket, the same one he’d been wearing since they were fifteen years old, and it hung from his shoulders, forgotten. The look on his face was too much. Oh God, it was too much.
“W-what?” he stepped forward uncertainly.
Lily swung her legs over the side of the mattress and made her way towards the door. “That’s it. I’ve nothing more to say. I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary drama.”
"Wait, I wasn’t—" he reached out and caught her arm. Lily was both irritated and relieved that he wouldn’t let her go without a fight. Then again, she was getting tired of all the fights.
"Let me go!"
"No, I won’t!" James seemed to have recovered from his shock. His hazel eyes were bright behind his glasses. "Lily, are you fucking crazy?"
She laughed, somewhat hysterically, and yanked herself free. However, she made no further move toward the exit. She had to explain herself. She knew she did. “Am I crazy? I don’t know James, am I? Is it crazy not to want to have to walk on eggshells 24/7? Does it make me certifiably insane not to want to have to deal with a relationship that’s hot and cold at best during a sodding war?”
"We fought last night, but—"
"Yes, we fought last night. And the night before that, we weren’t speaking, because we’d fought the night before!” Lily shook her head, as if she was trying to physically expel her memory. “I don’t think I can do this anymore!”
"So you’re just going to give up?" James glared at her. "After everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to stop trying?"
"Don’t." Lily warned. "Don’t make it sound like some casual thing, because that’s not what this is. Its not like I haven’t been struggling with this. This is just as hard for me as it is for you."
”Don’t do this, Lily.”
"I don’t have a choice!" Because she wouldn’t be doing this, if she saw any other way. Even now, she was tempted to go to him, and forget about everything. But the pain was still going to be there. They couldn’t just make it better. They’d tried, and they’d failed. That was that.
"We knew this wasn’t going to be easy. We knew there were going to be times like this."
Still, why was it that the person who was responsible for this horrible ache in her chest seemed to be the only person who would be able to make it better?
"That doesn’t make it any easier," Lily whispered. "Its not that simple. This is what’s best for both of us."
"Bullshit!" James grabbed a hold of her again, this time with one hand on either of her shoulders. Lily tried to keep her expression neutral, but she knew she wasn’t going to last long. "We need each other. We can’t do this without each other. I need you, Lily. I’m so bloody fucking in love with you."
She felt a few tears escape the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t bother wiping them away. “That’s not enough,” she said quietly, her voice shaking.
"No it’s not!" He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "It’s not! If loving you was enough to make things better, we’d be fine! But we’re not in school anymore. Love can’t solve all of our problems.”
"Then what will?"
"I don’t know."
"Well maybe I don’t either, but I’ll do anything. Just stay. Stay with me, Lily, don’t give up on us yet." James raked a hand through his hair. A sob wracked through her chest at the sight of the familiar habit. She was losing it. She had to get out of here.
But she was in too deep. James tugged her toward him, and she tried to resist, but she was too tired. Tired of fighting, especially with him. Lily buried her face in his chest, knowing she would never be able to leave now. Not ever. She tried, but couldn’t quite bring herself to care.
James Potter was a part of her. A part she needed, whether she liked her or not.
Eventually, the crying stopped, and he tilted her chin up so that he could look at her.
"We’re going to make it through this," he promised, and irrationally, impossibly, she believed him.
Author: bcdaily / bcdaily
Pairings: James & Lily
I’m a bit late in posting this since I’ve been on hiatus, but I really really love this. Not surprising, since I love everything bee writes!
Jily: Severus’ POV for anon
She used to hate him. Lily used to spend hours talking about how he was stuck up and rude and insufferable and how she couldn’t stand him.
Something changed after the tiny slip that she never forgave him for. Severus wondered if he was the only one to notice that the anger in her eyes turned friendlier somewhere during sixth year, and by seventh year it was more than friendship.
Severus swallowed down his bile when he saw they’d started sitting at what used to be his and Lily’s table, Potter sitting in his chair, reaching out and touching Lily’s hand or hair and she let him, like she’d never hated him at all.
He was the first one to catch them late at night during his patrol, giggling so loud it was no wonder they got caught. He didn’t bother taking points, because they were the Head Students (how did Potter get it, he’s hardly the ideal candidate) and there was no point.
When Severus finds out – from the whisperings of some fourth years in the Common Room – that Lily and Potter are dating, he left his friends without a word and didn’t return for several hours. When he did he was a little drunk and soaked to the bone and when he saw Potter and Black he snapped.
The next time he saw Lily and Potter was when he woke up in the Hospital Wing, head pounding, and saw her curled against the curly-haired boy, head resting on his chest. And Severus promised himself he wouldn’t care anymore. But it didn’t go away, not even years later at the announcement of their engagement.
harry: my dad was cool right guys?
sirius and remus: ((look at each other nervously))
remus: harry ((takes harry by the shoulders)) i have something very important to tell you. dont take this the wrong way but your father was the biggest dork i’ve ever met in my entire life
He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.
At least, he hadn’t told her he was coming.
She hadn’t seen him come in, either, but none of that prevented her from instinctively knowing precisely who had just come up behind her, was standing so close she could feel his breath on her shoulder, had just placed a hand on the small of her back.
Since when did that happen?
“You look good.”
Lily heard the smile in his voice and matched it with one of her own. “Only good? I was rather hoping for better than that.”
Did they normally flirt this much, or was the champagne heightening her awareness? Worse still, was the champagne responsible for her loose tongue? She was too damned distracted by his warmth and his smell and the electricity crackling where, fucking hell, his fingers were tracing lazy circles on her back.
“What are you doing here? You never come to these things.”
Here tone wasn’t at all accusatory, James obliged her curiosity by leaning in, further than what was strictly necessary-not that she was complaining-and whispering conspiratorially, “If you must know, I heard a rumour that a pretty girl was going to be here.”
“The gossips were wrong, of course, as per usual.”
She scoffed, just as he knew she would, just as he hoped she would. He laughed, conceding, “Alright, then, more than good. I’ll admit to three, perhaps four solid minutes of staring before I came up to you.”
James, facing her profile, noted her flaming cheek and mouth turned up at the corner, but she didn’t turn to face him and she didn’t say anything. He hoped he hadn’t crossed a line. They flirted, yes, but never this outrageously. It was true, though-she was beautiful, gorgeous, really. He didn’t want to take it back.
He didn’t have to, turns out, because Lily surprised him with a confession of her own, perhaps as a reward for his own honesty. “You look good, too, you know.”
It was his turn to scoff, “Evans, you haven’t even turned to see me yet.”
“Didn’t have to, James. I’ve seen you in dress robes before.”
“That was last year, though. I didn’t realize you were paying attention then.”
“Well, I was.”
“Fair enough.” He’d made his mind up about something, Lily could tell. Barely a moment passed and James reached across her with his free hand to relieve her of her goblet. As he set it on the table beside him, it was more statement then question that he spoke into her hair, “So, are you ready to dance?”
“With you? Absolutely.”
They held each more closely than the moment called for; paid no mind to the stares, both blatant and overt, the tempo of the song they’d begun swaying to, or anything, really, but the immediacy of this long, long overdue moment. It was all tingling hands and stuttering heartbeats and warm breaths. Damn it to hell, was this what they had been missing?
James, who was going to burst if he didn’t do something to relieve the tension, but not quite trusting himself to speak, started to spin Lily in wide circles. She understood his intentions and played along. Soon they were performing a ridiculous, exaggerated waltz on the outskirts of the dance floor. They were poking fun at the other dancers as much as at themselves, which was all for the better; taking each other too seriously was more than either of them could handle.
When James spun her out and back again she exclaimed, albeit laughingly, “You’re a madman!” When he dipped her, the room spun more than she liked-and for more than one reason. “No more dips, please, too much champagne, alright?”
“You, Evans? Drinking too much at a school function?”
She nodded solemnly, bringing their entwined hands upwards as she poked his chest. “Yes! Don’t pretend to be outraged, love, I’m of age. Anyway, it’s all your horrible influence.”
“You’re sure it’s me who’s corrupted you, not the other way around?”
His wore a well-practiced expression of utmost innocence, one she’d seen many times as he was trying to weasel out of various punishments. She knew what he was doing, and damn if it wasn’t working because her lip twitched, breaking into a grin despite her best efforts. “Alright. Your influence isn’t that terrible.”
“Thank you. I finally get the credit I deserve. You are rather crazy about me, you know.”
He’d said things like this before, teasingly, about her fancying him, and she could brush it away with a laugh and an eyeroll. She had done just that on numerous occasions, but this was different.
They’d been coming towards this question-skirting around it, really-for months. And they both recognized this moment for what it was: cards on the table.
He’d done the brave thing by asking the question, it was the thing she hadn’t summoned the courage to do. Now, wrapped in his arms, she felt no fear.
She cocked her head slightly, and with a smirk on her face, the one she’d learned from him, said. “Finally figured that out, did you? Yes, I do. Not too bright for top of our year.”
“I’m brilliant, just a bit of an idiot sometimes. I did figure it out though, only took me three months.”
She buried her head into his shoulder, shaking her head as she muffled into his robes, “Four. Four months.”
“Yeah, that I was aware of, though it was probably longer than that. I’ve been an idiot, too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She tilted her head back to look him in the eye again. “A million stupid reasons, all of them complete rubbish, I assure you.”
His gaze didn’t waver, he was expecting her to continue, so she pressed on, “We were mates. It wasn’t my place. I thought you didn’t fancy me anymore. I didn’t want to be a prat and ruin everyth-“
“I wouldn’t have minded, you know.”
“But I didn’t know that, love, and I can’t undo it. Besides, we’re here now.”
“Yes. We are.” He didn’t bother editing the grin that split his face. “And now we know the truth.”
“Yes, of course. The truth, Evans, is that you find me devastatingly gorgeous…”
“…alright, yes. You have a special talent for making me laugh.”
James was satisfied with this until she added, as if she couldn’t help herself-and really, she couldn’t-“Even if your jokes are dead awful sometimes.”
He pouted, “You always preface your compliments with a cutting adjective. Why? Must you wound me?”
She put a placating hand on his check, “Now James, if I start throwing compliments at you, you might die of shock. Your head would explode. You would be-”
“Flying without a broomstick? You’re in my arms, love, I already am.”
“You did not just say that. Ponce.”
“I did just say that, and it’s true, but I take it back. It was awful.”
“Thank you for proving my point for me, by the way.”
“I aim to please, love. But you aren’t going to be good for my ego at all.”
“When have I ever? If it helps, I’m crazy about you, all the same.”
“Immensely. Crazy about you, too, you know.”
”I do now.”
At this, they abandoned any pretence of dancing; what little space there had been between them vanished completely as her arms went around her neck and both hands settled her into a tight hug.
It was Lily who broke the silence and asked the question they’d both been contemplating. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Can we leave already? We’ve only had one dance.”
“Well, love, I can’t be sure, but I think it’s been seven or eight songs. I’ve no intention of dancing with anyone else. I think our spectators would be relieved if we left, actually. Mostly, James, I refuse to let our first proper snog be at one of Slughorn’s stuffy parties.”
“Snogging in a corridor is better?”
i am sorry for the fluff. so. much. fluff.
there is nothing revolutionary here, i’ll admit that, just cliched jily flirting, but i will post a gratuitous snogging sequel to make up for it, though, promise.
Lily is half asleep, crawling over James as she gropes for her wand on the nightstand. She’s about to question the funny look on his face when she realizes that the grain and weight of the wand in her hand is all wrong. Her cheeks burn with the realization that it’s not her wand, but his, she’s holding. She releases it instinctively, dropping it to the bed, an apology half formed on her lips.
James scoops up the wand-his wand-and turns it in his fingers. He surprises her by pressing it into her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers, closing them around the wood. His movements are slow, deliberate, his eyes never waver. This feels every bit as intimate as his kisses, his touches, the weight of him on top of and inside her. He presses a kiss to her temple, whispers into her hair that it’s alright, he’s just never seen anyone use his wand before, and while it caught him off guard, she can use it any time.
James Potter’s wand feels strong, steady, warm in her hand. Lily wonders if any wand would feel that way or if it’s that he so willingly gave her his consent. She casts her first spell, something small-an accio for her own wand, which seems to have gone missing. She gasps in surprise at how foreign her own magic feels channeled through this strange piece of wood; different, but not wrong.
James catches Lily’s wand, which was buried in the heap of clothes by the door, and upon receiving an encouraging nod from his girlfriend, flexes his fingers around the handle. It’s smaller, yes, and it feels a bit wild, but so very, very Lily. He contemplates which spell to try only for a moment before he notices goosebumps on her exposed shoulder. Understanding her original intentions, he casts a warming charm over the quilt that covers them. Much appreciated, apparently, as he is rewarded with an enthusiastic kiss.
Some time later they are side by side, snuggled together under the quilt, backs against the headboard. They stay up until dawn experimenting: casting spells with increasingly complexity, comparing the differences and similarities, learning the nuances of each other’s wands.
In the months and years to come this will become second nature, each other’s wands as familiar as their own. Now, however, it’s hard for them to imagine, for that desire-a life together-is only beginning to take shape in their hearts. But it is starting, and it grows on nights like this, with whispers and kisses and confidences and firsts. It feels a lot like love.