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the-dream-team · 3 years

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Can I Try Again

Another ridiculously fluffy one-shot for @efkgirldetective's summer of jily week four prompt: picking berries // I know I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right // the entire song, pink in the night <3

She is beautiful and he is in a perpetual state of falling. Down and down and down the goddamn rabbit hole, but somehow the further James plummets, the brighter his life becomes. It’s the kind of brightness that blinds him- somewhat painfully- and leaves his vision spotty, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lily Evans walks ahead of him, a spring in her step, sunshine pouring through her hair. She’s cut it short for the summer, just above her shoulders, and he’s mesmerized by the way it bounces around her neck as she walks through the gardens of his family’s home. It’s an image he’s played over in his head an infinite number of times, but his rosiest daydreams don’t hold a candle to the real thing. The afternoon light hits his glasses just right and suddenly there’s a halo of glowing stars framing her as she tucks a dark red strand behind her ear. He can’t even see her face, but it doesn’t matter. I could stare at your back all day.

He is the luckiest boy in the world and every moment is made up of the sweetest form of torture. Agony and exuberance whipping his heart back and forth like a rogue Bludger.

She must know, he thinks. Must have some sort of clue that she’s occupied every corner of his mind for well over a year now. Even more so now, after the platform. He wishes more than anything for the ability to read minds as she glances over her shoulder with those startlingly green eyes, that friendly grin.

He can’t help but smile back- or maybe he was already smiling before she even turned around. It doesn’t matter. By some miracle, she’s here, and he can only marvel at the kindness of fate.

***

It had been a passing comment. One of those early morning conversations as his friends frantically scribbled out unfinished essays while shoving waffles down their throats. Chatter muffled by mouthfuls of eggs and yawning. Remus had commented offhandedly about the fruit bowl being passed around, and then-

“Oh, raspberries are my favorite.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t already looking at her when she spoke. But truthfully, he was always looking at Lily, a habit he’d long since stopped fighting once he realized how fruitless his efforts were. She was beautiful and he was hopeless. Simply lucky to be in her presence. She was the sun, and he, but a lonely planet, entirely reliant on and endlessly seeking out her light.

Sirius spoke the words James should have if his mind hadn’t gone fuzzy from hearing her voice.

“You know, the Potters have a raspberry patch in their gardens.”

“Oh, really?” She glanced from Sirius to James with a brilliant smile and excited eyes, so purposefully glued to his that he had to duck his head and rake a hand through his hair to hide his heating cheeks.

“That’s right,” he said more to his plate of sausages than to her. “They’re usually ripe to pick by early August.” When he peered back up, she was still looking his way.

“You should come over this summer and take some off our hands,” said Sirius casually, turning towards James as if it had been his idea.

“Yeah,” he jumped in a little too eagerly. “I mean- if you’d like, you’re more than welcome.”

Her smile widened, rounding the apples of her cheeks in a way that made his stomach flip pleasantly. “That sounds like fun.”

He assumed she’d forget the conversation, it had been just another morning, just another casual chat among housemates, but that didn’t keep him from daydreaming about the potential of a far-off day in August rather incessantly during the following months. But then as the school year ended and summer rolled on painfully slowly (and Lily-less), an owl arrived. And her handwriting crawled across the page like a message written in the clouds.

***

Lily swings the woven basket back and forth in her pursuit of the best raspberries. There’s already an impressive bounty growing in her basket, far more than he’s managed to collect- too busy watching her kneel down and pluck berries off their delicate branches to pick any of his own.

He turns to a leafy bush, green and lively and swaying slightly in the warm breeze, and quickly pinches off a handful of berries in an attempt to catch up with her. When she spins around, he’s thankful for the distraction. A minute earlier and she would have caught him staring. Again.

She smiles pleasantly and brushes her fringe off her sweaty forehead with the back of her wrist. James’ heart leaps into his throat.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says, but not accusingly.

“No I haven’t,” he responds, voice gravelly from underuse. “Just been busy picking raspberries.”

She glances at his measly basket, then back to his face with arching brows and an amused smirk.

He can’t help his own guilty grin. “Alright, Evans, I’m sorry we can’t all be unreasonably talented at everything we do.”

“It’s berry picking, Potter,” she laughs, “not advanced Arithmancy.”

In retaliation, he plucks a raspberry off of the nearest branch and playfully throws it at her. She somehow has the gall to lean her head back and catch the goddamn berry between her teeth. His brain short circuits. He’s quite certain his jaw is on the ground. She acts as though this is no big deal, swallowing the fruit with a satisfied smile, her tongue brushing her lower lip before tossing another into her mouth.

“Oh, these are delicious!”

He can’t form a response even if he wants to. Even if it was a matter of life or death, which it sure as hell feels like. He can only stare at her mouth, at her lips stained raspberry-pink, and lose himself in the knowledge that he knows how they feel against his own- even just briefly.

***

The platform teemed with students stretching their legs after the long journey home from school, saying their goodbyes to friends as their families greeted them for the summer.

A pit sat in James’ stomach- heavy and demoralizing- the entire train ride back to London. He knew she’d be gone soon. Back with her parents in Cokeworth for two excruciating months before their seventh year began. He’d taken their close proximity for granted during the school year, and as he faced a summer without the promise of her warmth, he wondered if it was even possible living in the dark.

He laughed loudly at a joke Peter told, overcompensating for the fact he’d missed the punchline while his thoughts were spiraling over her. Sirius shot him a look that suggested he wasn’t doing a great job of masking his emotions. Had it been so obvious the entire way home? Could she have noticed the despondency in his eyes, heard the heavy thumping of his heart? He rolled his eyes at Sirius and mustered up the most unbothered smirk he could manage.

But then, without warning, she was in front of him.

“Alright, Potter, don’t let your head overinflate while I’m not around to keep you grounded.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Evans,” he laughed, thankful his voice sounded steadier than he felt. “Just so long as you promise to consider switching your loyalties to Puddlemere. There’s no way the Harpies even make it to the semi-finals this season, and I can’t bear seeing you heartbroken again.”

“Oh, piss off, Potter,” she replied, but the way she threw her arms around his neck seemed to argue she didn’t mean what she said. Instinctually, he hugged her back, and thank Merlin he had her to hold onto as the wind was knocked out of his lungs at her touch. An overwhelming warmth sparkled across every surface their bodies met, and it took every ounce of control he had to restrain the truly pathetic sigh that threatened to escape his throat.

“And I haven’t forgotten,” she spoke into his shoulder, breath hot thorough his t-shirt, “you promised me berry picking this August.”

It would be impossible to miss the rapid beating of his heart through his chest pressed up against hers. “I’m already counting down the days.”

When she pulled back, hands resting on his shoulders for a beat longer than expected, his body moved faster than his brain could keep up with. He leaned forward, aiming for her cheek, but miraculously landing against her mouth- connecting for the briefest of moments before parting again, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. If it weren’t for the ghost of her lips still burning against his own, he might have thought he’d dreamt it.

“Lily, I’m not waiting any longer, we’re leaving, now,” came the unpleasant voice of her sister from across the platform.

Lily’s disoriented smile faltered slightly before she composed herself again, meeting his eye. “I’ll see you in August?”

“Yeah, August,” he somehow said with his mouth still tingling, forever changed by what they now knew.

***

The memory of her lips, how they feel pressed between his smile, is harder to ignore when they’re in front of him. He can remember the warmth where they touched him over a month ago and absentmindedly he brings a raspberry to his mouth so he can imagine how she must taste.

His emotions were hard enough to control before he knew what he was missing, but now they are impossible to reign in. He forgets how to breathe, and as a result, his head spins maddeningly. Unsure of how much longer he can stand up straight without making a fool out of himself, he walks forward and lays a hand on Lily’s back- partially to lead her forward, partially because the desire to be connected to her in any way is driving him mad.

She lets him guide her through the rows of bushes, under an ancient wooden archway, and across a courtyard of blossoming poppies and forget-me-nots enclosed by walls of hedges. Yellow and purple petals reflect brilliantly in her green eyes, creating their own fields of wildflowers within her irises. He walks her towards a wide, circular fountain in the middle of the grass where bubbling water spills over onto stone tiers and pours into the basin below, its floor littered with glinting coins, dancing under the water’s rippling surface.

He sits down and she follows suit on the stone ledge surrounding the water, partially shaded by an impressive plum tree. Cool droplets spray off the fountain, refreshing like summer rain singing I love you, I love you, I love you. Lily glances his way and he wonders if she can hear his thoughts.

“Are we finished picking berries?” she asks, eyes squinting and nose crinkling in the sun.

“I figured you had enough to feed a village.” He reaches over and grabs a raspberry from her basket and she gasps in faux outrage.

“Are you really stealing my raspberries, Potter?”

He adores his name on her tongue. “My apologies,” he says, pulling a silver Sickle out of his pocket and sliding it over to where she sits. She looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “For your troubles. Go on then, make a wish.”

“Oh!” Her eyes light up and she takes hold of the coin, lifting it to her heart as she closes her eyes in search of a wish.

He thinks he could look at her forever. Happy, sunkissed, an unconscious smile playing across her lips. With her eyes shut, he uses a minute to take a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing heart and compose his dopey grin. They’re sitting close together, knees almost touching with the basket of berries between them. As she tosses the Sickle behind her shoulder, he smells the faint scent of her vanilla shampoo.

She noticeably tries to hide her smile when her eyelids flutter back open.

“What did you wish for?” he asks, unable to stop himself.

She freezes with her eyes locked on his. A pink blush spreads across her cheeks, growing darker the longer he stares back at her. “I can’t tell you,” she says, words sounding choked, “or else it won't come true.”

Her flushed face awakens something in his chest, a confidence that blooms magnificently, turns his nervous, pattering heartbeat into a steady, powerful drum.

His voice drops to a hoarse whisper when he asks, “Can I guess?”

Her breath hitches. “I think you might already know, James.” Her words, the sound of his name, melts him down to a puddle. By some miracle, she continues speaking. “Look, I know I’ve kissed you before-”

“But I didn’t do it right,” he says frantically, his hands finding her face and brushing through her hair. He starts to understand why people advise against looking directly at the sun because being this close to her fills him with such astounding emotion he thinks he might explode. She stares up at him, blush deepening, lips parting, and he takes a ragged breath. “Can I try again?”

This time, when she smiles, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

He leans in slowly, letting their breath mix together, their noses bump lightly before he closes the space between their lips. She’s soft and warm and beautiful and radiant and he’s never felt a happiness quite like this one, never experienced a kiss this perfect. His fingers travel over her scorching skin and brush her neck as he deepens the kiss, tasting the raspberries on her tongue, his heart soaring as she responds blissfully until they’re both left breathless.

“And again?” she asks, pulling him back with a smile against his lips.

“And again,” he smiles back, marveling, once again, at the kindness of fate.

#summerofjily #look guys #i have never written present tense before so take that information as you will #and of course i switched to past tense for the flashbacks because I guess I want everyone to suffer #have some sickeningly sweet fluff to make up for it lol #i do not love writing kisses!#but I know you guys like when jily seals the deal so I do it for you #absolutely love this prompt and mitski is that glareingly obvious?#plus picking berries is all i've thought about for 24 hours #<3 #who is reading these tags #seriously lmao #jily fic #jily #lily evans #James potter

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thequibblah · 3 years

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summerboy

i DO NOT speak italian <3 this is for @efkgirldetective‘s summer of jily, prompt #4: berry picking + i know i’ve kissed you before, but i didn’t do it right :))))

Not that James knows why anyone else is on this trip — reasons of their own, none of his business, et cetera, et cetera — but he has (so unfairly) been called the nosiest boy that Mary Macdonald has ever met, so who can blame him for accidentally living up to her perception? Not to mention, maybe girls just talk too loud.

Mary certainly does. Her words still ring in his mind, weeks later: “Lily, we’re there to bag Italian blokes, that’s literally it.” And then she lifted her hand in that quintessential Italian gesture, and said in the worst accent James has ever heard, “Lee-lee, my looove…”

So, anyway, he doesn’t want to make assumptions, but he’s fairly sure that bagging Italian guys factors somewhere in Lily Evans’s priorities. Even if it’s right at the bottom. That’s a sure sight better than bagging him, which is likely not on the list at all.

Not that he wants her to. His whole unrelationship with Lily can be summed up thus: one horrible drinking-game snog at the start of their time together at uni, one and a half years of ferocious pining, half a year of mercifully-restored sanity and friendship. It would be regression if he goes back to that pining business. At least, Remus and Sirius and Peter would be very disappointed in him.

All that being said, she looks very pretty today. It’s not a crime to notice it.

Their massive group has become even bigger, thanks to the friendliest of them inviting over people they’ve met here in the four days it’s been, and everyone’s drinking alcohol that is not designed for consumption at this hour of the morning. James is no exception. Some absolutely nasty vodka-based concoction is in his hand, his second, and the glass is already half-empty.

He can see Lily at the kitchen island, her hair twisted at the nape of her neck, her dress (cream and blue, frayed hemline) swirling as she avoids a wildly gesticulating Peter. She laughs at something one of Remus’s debsoc mates says. James inwardly scoffs. Then, because he is well-adjusted, contrary to popular opinion, he focuses on draining his glass instead, turning to the sprawling garden behind the house and the warm summer sun.

“Hey, you,” says a familiar voice. Then she’s beside him, glass in hand and hand on hip. There are freckles on her bare shoulders. Coppery strands of hair stick to her sweat-damp neck.

This is the feeling of being slowly unspooled, the last coil of good sense unwound and tossed away like so much rubbish.

“Hey yourself,” James says, looking back at the garden.

She looks too and sighs, not unhappily. “Tragic, isn’t it, how gorgeous Italian villas happen to questionably good people?”

Against his will, he laughs. They both turn to look at Sirius, his shirt unbuttoned and his lazy charm at work upon the four or five people in his orbit.

“Technically, the gorgeous Italian villa is happening to us right now,” he says to Lily.

She tips her glass at him, then takes a mouthful of whatever murky amber thing she’s drinking. By her grimace afterwards, it’s probably what he’s got too. “On second thought, I could live with being questionably good if it came with this.” She sweeps a hand at the garden below.

“Have you explored it properly?”

She quirks a wry smile at him. “Mary’s here. Do you think I get time for introspection in gardens?”

James casts a backward glance at the villa. Through the French windows, he can see Mary engrossed in conversation. He leans a little closer to Lily and whispers, “I think you’re safe now.”

She laughs, and the sound makes him think please undo me but also please do me. “Let’s walk, then.”

There’s nothing to it. He will go on this walk and he will return to the villa a man thoroughly obsessed with Lily Evans yet again. She casts him a coy, are you coming? sort of look as she starts along the garden path. James decides it’s totally worth it.

Past the rows of shrubs and stout lemon trees are the berry bushes, he reckons, and this is where Lily stops with a gasp until he catches up.

“We’ve had berries here all along, and I’ve been going into town buying them?” she says, examining a strawberry on a vine.

“I don’t think Sirius has ever in his life eaten a fruit right off a tree.” In fact, James himself wants to tell her not to eat the berry without washing it. Who knows what’s in Italian dirt?

But she rubs at the berry with the hem of her dress (he politely averts his gaze from her exposed thighs) and bites into it. He’s so busy thinking it is safe to look at her again, the hem having been dropped, that he doesn’t realise he’s watching her eat a berry until it’s too late. He can only blink at her, can only watch the red fruit on her red lips, the way her eyes close, her appreciative mmm.

Mind, out of the gutter, please.

“I can’t believe I’ve been speaking my shit Italian in that nice market,” she says, laughing, “when we’ve had perfectly good berries this whole time.”

“I’m sure your Italian isn’t shit,” says James. It seems like a safe direction to take the topic in. “Try me, I’ve got some Italian.”

She gives him an incredulous look and begins to wander down the row. “That makes it worse. Now I can’t disappoint.”

“I've just said you won’t disappoint, c’mon.”

“Okay…” She laughs to herself and clears her throat. “Vorrei— oh, how rude of me, buongiorno—”

James nods solemnly. “Buongiorno.”

“Vorrei un kilo di fragole.” She speaks slowly, but by the end arches a confident eyebrow at him.

“What about that was shit? That was great!”

She rolls her eyes like she doesn’t quite believe him, and plucks another strawberry. “Vorrei…un’altra fragola.”

He narrows his own eyes at her, playfully. “Did you read a guidebook or something, Evans?”

She blushes and laughs, self-conscious. “I'm a bit of a try-hard.”

“Well, if you trying hard has been what’s getting us Remus’s berry mojitos every night, I’m not fucking complaining.” Not that he’d complain at all, when it comes to her. But she doesn’t know that.

Her smile widens, and she holds up the berry to him.

“Oh, sure,” he says, and for some reason there is no miscommunication about what’s going on here — he doesn’t try to take it from her, she waits for him to duck his head, and then he takes a bite of it. He’s less aware of the burst of tartness than he is of her fingers on his mouth, feather-light.

“Good?” she says.

James is slowly beginning to realise there are more dangerous things than Lily Evans not wanting to bag him — for instance, Lily Evans possibly wanting to bag him. She’s caught him unawares, and he’s unprepared for the full force of her powers.

“Good,” he says, and if he sounds dazed she lets it slide.

With a quick smile, she’s turned around and strolling along, la-di-da as ever. “You know what’s funny? We associate strawberries with sweetness but they’re really quite sharp.”

If there’s some meaningful double entendre there, it’s so far beyond him. But he has to contribute something. James says, “Did you know a strawberry’s not technically a berry, since its seeds are on the outside?”

My God. What an idiot.

She looks back at him, an interested furrow between her brows. “Oh, I didn’t know that, actually.”

“Yeah, a banana’s a berry,” he says, encouraged.

“Huh.” Lily picks another strawberry and bites into it.

James suddenly wonders what’s wrong with him. This incredibly beautiful girl has just fed him a fucking strawberry, and all he can do is tell her fruit facts.

He blurts out, “Posso baciarti?”

She blinks at him, hand on a bit of wooden fencing. They’ve reached the end of the row. “My Italian doesn’t go very far beyond fruit names.”

Thank goodness that whatever chemical response in the body that produces embarrassment is constantly underperforming in James. “Then the blokes in the market must not have been flirting with you.”

The rosy flush is back in her cheeks, and she’s visibly suppressing a smile. But her tone is arch as she says, “Should they have been?”

“Yes, because you’re you, but — also no.” He stops there.

“No?” she prompts.

“No, because…I want to kiss you, and there’s a chance that you’d go for some guy and a cartload of fruit instead, I don’t know. I don’t know how handsome the fruit sellers are. Probably pretty handsome.” He’s rambling.

She says, nonchalantly, “Yeah, pretty handsome.”

“Right! And then the last time we kissed—” the thing they’ve never discussed “—I didn’t, like, acquit myself very well—”

She laughs. “Acquit yourself!”

“Well, yeah!” he says, defensively.

“It’s not as though I made it better,” Lily says. “We were both just really— It’s not as though I made an effort to kiss you the way you should be kissed.”

He’s mid-argument, but it falls right out of his head. “The way I should be kissed?”

“Yeah.” Her vivid green gaze, fixed upon his lips. “So, can I try again?”

“You’re— Yeah.”

He doesn’t even care that he sounds that enthusiastic about it. She’s smiling, closing the few feet of distance between them. His arms go around her as she presses her mouth to his, tentative then more urgent, her lips parting, the strawberry tartness everywhere. It makes sense, suddenly, that this is how they are supposed to kiss.

His one hand is in her sweet-smelling hair, tilting her head back, and the other dips below her waist to the curve of her hip. She murmurs something — approval? — and pushes his hand lower, beneath her dress. Okay, approval.

They’re sort of leaning against the fencing, and half of James is concerned about the structural integrity of said fencing, but the concern is rapidly fading to the back of his mind. He traces his fingers up the outside of her thigh and is rewarded by how she presses closer still. Lily sighs his name into his mouth, and he’s so, so gone.

“I think we should — go inside,” James says, pulling back with effort.

She’s similarly breathless, arms still draped over his shoulders like she doesn’t want to move any further from him. “Oh?”

“Yeah, or we’ll have to do over whatever comes next.” He’s pretty sure that going any further than snogging against this fence would turn out a mistake, anyway.

She smiles. “I’m okay with do-overs. Practice makes perfect, yeah?”

His brain is going to shut down entirely if this keeps up. But he manages to say, “I can be a quick study.”

“Take your time,” says Lily.

He leads her up the garden path and back to the house.

#jily #jily fic #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic #suze writes #summerofjily

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keepingupwithpotters · 3 years

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come swim in my ocean

For @efkgirldetective ‘s second week of summer of jily 🌊🌊🌊 with some minor wolfstar thrown in there

swimming with friends + today we're younger than we're ever gonna be (✨vibes✨)

Lily didn’t think they would actually do it.

Sure, it was a fun concept to joke about with your friends, but that’s all it was supposed to be — a dare everybody laughs at but does not try to execute.

She tries to gauge whether it’s too late to chicken out without losing her dignity. She can hear clothes hitting the sand as they’re thrown over carelessly between laughter.

Welp. No turning back now.

She realizes her mistake when she’s the only one left standing with clothes on.

“Well, c’mon Evans. This was your brilliant plan.”

“A plan that made me reevaluate all my previous assessments of you. Who knew Evans had it in her?” She can’t see his face in the dark, but she knows Sirius just winked at her.

She pathetically tries one more time to bring them back from this terrible decision. “You know, I’m starting to think this isn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Ah, come off it Lily,” Marlene yells from… somewhere. “What? You can talk the talk but won’t strip for the walk?”

“It’s not the skinny-dipping part that’s the problem,” she insists unconvincingly, “it’s the night part. The water is probably freezing right now.”

“I’m happy to do this with you again in the morning, Evans.” She tries to resist the usual urge of looking at James when he talks. “But if that’s your only excuse, the water is just fine.”

Peter helpfully flicks some water to Lily to prove James’ point.

Damn it. The water is actually rather nice.

Feeling ganged up on, she sighs deeply to show her displeasure with the turn of events, and starts to work on her clothes quickly. She won’t give them the satisfaction of turning her back while doing it though or acknowledge Mary’s loud whoop – which she shouted in the wrong direction.

Finally out of her last piece of clothing, she grabs the closest hand she can find, and tugs on it once before running into the water.

The loud splashing they make alerts the others to their new location. One by one they come into the sea, sometimes with shrieks and sometimes with swears.

Her companion laughs when the last two dark figures dip into the water as well, it was Remus after all, and turns to her general direction. “I gotta hand it to you, Lily. You’re really committed to cause maximum damage to James’ brain.”

Before Lily can answer him, they are interrupted by Sirius’ loud bellowing, “Wherefore art thou, Moony? Tell that red headed wench it’s not nice to steal my boyfriend for herself.”

“Tell it to the wench yourself,” Lily shouts back before realizing her mistake. Now located by the others, loud splashes fill her ear from everywhere as they all swim to their direction. She makes an honorable attempt to escape with Remus before giving up, not feeling ready for a swimming race with five people on their tail.

James and Sirius are the first ones to reach them, because of course they are, and she leaves Remus to his boyfriend before Sirius starts yelling more Shakespeare quotes. She is just about to swim towards Mary and Marlene to meet them halfway when a hand on her ankle stops her.

“You’re not cruel enough to leave me alone with them when they are naked, are you Evans?”

“Hate to break it to you but I’m very much naked as well, Potter,” she grins cheekily.

“Oh, believe me, I’m aware of that.”

She curses the new moon once more for although providing a very nice opportunity to look at the stars, doesn’t let her see James’ expression.

She can hear the girls catching up to them slowly with Peter not far behind. “Let me save you then, Potter. Are you up for a little swimming?”

Not waiting for his answer, which she can only guess is an enthusiastic nod, she starts to swim away from the upcoming party, knowing he’ll follow.

They are careful not to go deeper, only sideways, until they leave their friends’ earshot. With an unspoken agreement they stop, Lily finally allowing herself to gaze at the sky. She assumes that’s what James is doing too until he interrupts her thoughts.

“I’d hoped it would be brighter.”

She doesn’t answer him, her silence prompting James to explain himself. “The starlight, I mean. Don’t get me wrong, it's beautiful, but it’s not the scenery I want to be looking at right now.”

“Yeah, it’s jarring not to see your face when you’re speaking. Who knows how idiotic you actually look right now?”

James takes her right hand without speaking, bringing it to the edge of his brow. She doesn’t understand what he’s doing until he passes it over the slight lines of his forehead – he's letting her feel his facial expression.

Emboldened by his explicit permission, she lets her fingers rake through the hairs that have stuck on his forehead with water, combing them back with care. She follows the line of his brows, paying special attention to smooth the furrow in between. Her fingers fall dawn to his nose next, and it feels like his breathing had stopped a long time ago. She lovingly touches the cheekbones, wiping drops of water from them slowly. Careful not to skip a line, she trails the arch until she reaches his jaw, feeling it tense and ripple beneath her hand. When her thumb finally touches his lips, she finds them slightly open, just like how she envisioned, and she swears neither of them are breathing in that moment.

But Lily doesn’t want to stop there. She didn’t get James naked to touch his face. She lowers her hand.

If he had stopped breathing before, he certainly starts back when he gasps as her hand passes over his neck. She adds her other hand to grip both of his shoulders, their feet touching every once in a while as they try to stay afloat by just kicking them back and forward. That’s when she realizes James is not using his arms either, standing stock still, afraid to move.

Feeling bolder than ever, she glides her hand until she reaches his, placing it somewhere above her waist, sliding it upwards to encourage him. He practically chokes.

She goes back to outlining his collarbones with her fingers, feeling him shiver underneath her. Or is that her shivering when he slightly caresses the skin over her ribs? She doesn’t know where she ends and he starts under the water.

Which is why she doesn’t react immediately when she feels something touching her foot. A head emerges out of the sea, causing both of them to splash apart. She doesn’t see who it is, but the devilish voice tells her it’s Mary soon enough.

“Oi, lovebirds, pack it up. We’re going back to the house, and we’re leaving no man behind.”

More splashing comes behind Mary, causing all heads to turn that way. “Peter and I lost the water fight, pulling the metaphorical short stick in a sense.”

Peter finally reaches them, and they wait for him to stop his wheezing. “Sirius wanted me to tell you that he and Remus have dibs on the shower first because they are a superior couple who can keep it in their pants while swimming with friends.” An uncomfortable beat. “His words.”

They swim back to the shore soon after that, but she can still hear James grumbling about what pants as they make good use of their time waiting for their turn to shower.

#summerofjily #jily #jily fic #lily evans #james potter #james x lily #minor wolfstar #jily fanfiction #senem writes #i'd like to thank daddy communism for helping me finish my final paper in time to post this today

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sunshinemarauder · 3 years

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Raspberry Sorbet

for the lovely @efkgirldetective's summerofjily prompt #7: (Ice cream + "I don't want anybody else touching you like I do)

And, in the blink of an eye — body pulled flush with hers, hands gripping hips tight enough to go straight to her core, hazel eyes in an unflinching stare.

“Don’t you dare, Evans,” he says lowly, and she — she shivers. She shivers at the feeling of his chest rising and falling against hers, of her arms winding loosely around his waist, of his face mere inches from her own, close enough to bridge that distance with a modest tilt of head, part of lips, breath mingled —

Lily flinches, snapping her head away as fast as she can. Heaving breath, unsteady; fingers curling and uncurling, shaky.

continue reading here on AO3!!

#this kind of... got away from me #but i think that the writing is some of my best so!#jily fic #james x lily #james potter x lily evans #jily fanfiction #drabble #james potter #lily evans #summerofjily

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theresthesnitch · 3 years

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Just a little kiss

A/N: I couldn't help myself. Jily and stargazing? Just add a little campfire and a bit of kissing, and I'm sold. Written for @efkgirldetective 's Summer of Jily prompt 5: activity: stargazing + lyric: I've got plenty of affection / I'd be glad to show you some time

Read here on AO3.

Plus, a picture for inspiration.

***

"That one is Cepheus. And do you see that one there? The one looks like a jagged line? That one is Cassiopeia."

They were laying in the tall grass next to the campfire, their feet bookends of the long line they created with their bodies. Lily's head was on James's shoulder, and his head was on her shoulder, and Lily realized that if she turned her head just slightly she could place a kiss on James's cheek. If James turned his head too, then their lips would meet between them. Lily had not yet worked up the courage to turn her head and kiss him, but she was warm with the knowledge that it was a possibility.

Everyone else had gone to bed and were likely already asleep, given the amount of time the two of them had been sitting there alone. Yet neither James nor Lily made any move to get up.

"And that one is Ophiuchus."

James continued pointing at the stars in the sky, outlining constellations indistinctly with his finger. Lily couldn't help but smile as he continued his recitation.

"James," Lily said. "You know that I took astronomy, too?"

"Of course," James said, oblivious to her meaning.

"James," she started again. "You realize I scored better than you in astronomy, yes?"

Lily saw a faint blush spread across James's cheeks and she just nearly kissed him right there. James chewed on his lip for a moment. "Yes?" His confidence was fading, and it came out like more of a question than an answer.

"So, why are you telling me about constellations?"

For a long moment, he didn't answer her. Long enough that she wondered if she would get an answer at all. "Just refreshing your memory," he finally said.

Silent laughter shook her shoulders and jostled his head slightly. She glanced over at him and saw an indignant look on his face, his lip poured out slightly. And then finally she couldn't help it.

She turned her head and kissed him on the cheek.

He'd clearly not been prepared for that possibility. He jumped slightly when her lips touched his cheek. When he glanced over at her she was looking back at the sky chewing slightly on her lower lip. "What was that for?" he asked.

"It's adorable," she replied, "that you thought I needed a refresher in astronomy."

"So you kissed me?"

"Apparently, I did." Lily felt, more than saw, him smile next to her and she looked back up at the stars. "I'm really glad we took this trip."

"Yeah," he said, smile still evident in his voice. "It's a good way to kick off our last year."

"Thank you for forcing everyone to come."

James scoffed. "I did not force everyone."

Lily laughed, her shoulder shaking his head again. "Fine," she said. "Thank you for encouraging everyone to come. Strongly encouraging."

James grumbled a bit. "I guess that's fair."

"I mean it though," she continued. "You have a way of doing that to people."

"Forcing people to do things?" he asked wryly.

"Well," she hedged for a moment, and then laughed at the look on his face. "No I mean, you're good at bringing people together. I'm not sure that anyone else could have gotten all of us out here. All of the Gryffindor 7th years together on a camping trip for one last hurrah."

James was quiet for a moment, and then turned and pressed a kiss into her cheek. His lips were warm, and a bit chapped, but not in a way that was uncomfortable. She felt the slight scratch of his whiskers on her cheek as he turned his head back, and the lingering warmth from where his lips had been.

"What was that for?" she asked quietly.

James' cheek rested against hers this time and she felt him smile a soft, kind smile. "That was thank you," he said. "No one has ever said anything so nice about me."

"Yes, well, you've never done anything nice before."

James roared with laughter as she knew he would, and she found herself smiling widely. "I'm nice."

"Name one time you've been nice."

James thought for a moment. "In fourth year, I carried your books for you."

"No, you didn't." Lily laughed at the memory. "You charmed my books to fly ahead of me up to Gryffindor Tower."

"And?"

"James, they didn't go to my room! I had to go room by room to find them again. It took me an hour and a few bribes to get them all back."

James grimaced. "Okay, maybe not so good in execution."

"It's okay." She turned and placed another kiss on his cheek. James didn't flinch this time, but she saw him close his eyes and felt him smile. "You've grown a lot," she whispered into his cheek before turning her face upward again.

"You think so?"

She hummed agreement. "I know so. I pay attention, you know."

"To me?"

Lily smiled. "Among other things."

James turned his head and pressed another kiss into her cheek, this time lingering just a moment. She closed her eyes and wondered how he would react if she turned and really kissed him.

"Thank you," James said quietly.

"What for?"

"I've been trying to be better, and I'm glad you noticed. So thank you for telling me."

"You're glad I noticed?" James hummed in agreement. "Why me?"

She felt him freeze under her head. "Because you matter to me, Lily."

There it was, like a lightning strike as his words hit her ears. She mattered to him. She knew that, of course, on some level. How could she not? It was no secret that James Potter fancied Lily Evans, as much as she tried to pretend she didn't know. She did, of course. The girl always knows. And part of her really loved knowing that he liked her, always. It had been annoying when they were younger, but over the years, he had grown on her.

So yes, she knew she mattered to him. It was just the first time she wanted to matter to him.

She turned her head again, and kissed his cheek. "You matter to me, too." And she really meant it.

"You're very affectionate tonight." James' voice was warm and a little thick in a way that Lily found really, really wonderful. It sent tingles all over her body.

"I have plenty of affection," she replied. "Maybe I can show you some time."

James laughed again, from deep in his belly in a way that she felt vibrate his chest where her head lay. "That's such a terrible line."

Lily was laughing too. It was hard not to laugh when he was laughing and looking at her like that.

"Well, fine. I can stop if you prefer." She put a hand out to her side and began to push herself up slightly.

"No!" The sudden yell surprised her. He grabbed her hand and linked their fingers. "No, I don't want you to stop." His voice was much quieter now.

"Okay," she said, and settled herself on his shoulder.

"Okay." He turned his head again to press his lips against her cheek, but she was faster. She turned her head so that their lips met in the middle.

He froze under her lips, and for a breath, she wondered if she read it wrong. Then his lips were moving against hers, and they were so soft and so gentle. Then he was moving, flipping onto his stomach so that his head was over hers, and the kisses became more urgent.

He pulled her lower lip between his and lightly nipped at her lip. She let out an involuntary moan, and felt James smile against her lips. She claimed his lower lip between hers, and ran her tongue along it, licking into his mouth and tasting him.

They broke apart, both a little breathless. James was propped up on his elbows above her, and peppered her face with kisses - her chin, her cheeks, her nose - before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips again. He rested his forehead against hers as they both breathed a little heavy.

“See, I told you I have a lot of affection.”

A brief pause, and then James burst out laughing. He rolled over and laid on his back, head once again next to hers, and he reached out to link their hands.

Lily shifted over so she was laying on his shoulder again. “Want to show me more constellations?”

“Can we just skip to the kissing part again?”

Their laughter carried through the night air until it was cut off again with a kiss.

#jily #summerofjily #jily fic #harry potter #james potter #lily evans #camping #kisses #affection #stargazing #snitchwrites

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possessingtheproperspirit · 3 years

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Drawn

for @efkgirldetective's summer of jily, prompt #5 - activity: stargazing.

---

She’s tried not to spend the whole evening just watching him. A challenge, but she’s always liked a challenge, and this feels like one of the biggest she’s faced. Don’t stare at James Potter. Don’t let yourself be drawn back into that orbit.

The thing is, she likes it. She finds herself seeking him out, now, sitting with him in the common room or ambling down to Quidditch practice at his side or sitting opposite him in the Great Hall, where she can look right into those beguiling hazel eyes and let that smile warm her to the tips of her fingers.

Yeah. She’s pretty far gone.

But she’d usually rather be there, with him but apart from him, than try to fight that pull, try to push back against whatever it is that’s deep inside her, desperate for his attention. She has never wanted to be that kind of girl, and especially not with him, but here she is, finding herself willing to do just about anything if it means he looks at her again and talks to her again.

Exams finished this morning, and the seventh years were given a later curfew to celebrate the occasion. The Gryffindors piled out of the Great Hall after lunch, collapsed in a heap by the lake, and had barely moved since, basking in the sun, brains overwhelmed, eyes hazy with exhaustion. At one point, moved by a sudden burst of energy, James had leapt up, stripped down to his boxers and raced Sirius into the cool, murky waters. Lily had allowed herself a minute or two of watching, as covertly as she could under the wide brim of her sunhat, admiring the way the droplets snaked down his torso, the way his muscles flexed and eased as he grappled with his best friend, cackling with glee.

She pretended to read her book for five minutes, then idled over to the shallows, lifting the hem of her dress to stand with Remus, taking in the scene as if she hadn’t been watching intently not that long ago. It was all a careful dance, this, being around him, hoping to catch his attention but not be seen to be doing it all at the same time. She even laced her fingers through Remus’ at one point, laughing just a little bit louder than she needed to at what he had said.

James didn’t look over.

Continue reading on AO3 -- FFN.

#jily #jily fic #jily fanfiction #summerofjily #prompt5 #james potter #lily evans #pure fluff right here #procrastinating writing the price we pay #can you tell

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adenei · 3 years

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Summer of Jily - Week 7

Yahoo! I'm all caught up for @efkgirldetective's summer of Jily Challenge!

This week's prompts: Ice cream and "I don't want anyone touching you like I do"

*********

Two days passed since their impromptu first date in the coziness of the cabin, and things could not be better. At least, that’s what James thought. The only snafu in the plan was that neither he nor Lily had discussed telling their friends about the relationship. Stolen moments alone were spent enjoying each other’s company while keeping an ear out for anyone who might intrude on their private time together.

They were no closer to coming up with a way of revealing their relationship, and if James was being honest, he quite liked the thrill of keeping his girlfriend, Lily, a secret from the Marauders. Sirius would probably hex him into tomorrow if he found out James was hiding something, but he would deal with that when the time came.

After two days of rain, the weather had finally cleared up, and the boys found themselves roaming up and down the main street of town while the girls were off shopping.

“Honestly, how much shopping can they possibly do?” Peter asked as he plopped down on a bench.

“With Mary and Marlene at the helm? It’s safer not to ask,” Remus thought out loud.

“It’s been two hours, and they’ve still got another half hour before they’re due to meet us for that picture show Mary’s been droning on about,” Sirius pointed out.

In an effort to avoid his friends’ complaints, James looked around the area for something to pass their time. His eyes settled on an ice cream shop across the street.

“Well, we could either sit here or go get some ice cream over there at that shop,” James suggested.

Peter perked up at the mention of ice cream while Remus gave a noncommittal shrug. Sirius was the only one to verbalize his agreement as he stood and led their way to the shop, his mood much brighter than moments ago.

“I could go for some ice cream! I prefer Muggle cotton candy ice cream to Fortescue’s strawberry peanut butter any day.”

The rest of the Marauders followed and approached the queue. They stood behind an older couple and waited. James continued to observe their surroundings, hoping that the girls might appear. He already missed Lily despite only being separated for a couple hours. As he was scanning the area, a group of girls who looked to be around their age joined the queue behind them, which Sirius was quick to point out.

“Look how hot that lot is, mate.”

James nodded, though he didn’t take the time to check them out. He was about to change the subject when one of the girls took notice of them and giggled. The sound caught his attention and distracted his attention. One of the girls was eyeing him; she was blonde with bright blue eyes and a petite frame, certainly attractive, but no longer his type. His type was Lily Evans, plain and simple.

He flashed a polite smile, then averted his gaze as the queue moved up. The boys were called up to the next window to order, and he was happy to put some distance between them and the group behind. Knowing it was easier for them all to order and have one person pay, James placed his order first and then turned to have the others follow suit. He dug out his muggle money to handle the transaction while the rest of the Marauders moved over to the pick-up window to wait for their treats.

“This is so different from Fortescue’s. Why can’t we watch them prepare it?” Peter whined.

“You mean scoop ice cream into cones and dishes and hand it to you? Beats me,” Sirius chided.

“He has a point, Pads. It’s interesting to watch sometimes,” Remus defended Peter’s observation as James chuckled.

“Yeah, beats waiting around having to make small talk with you,” he joked.

“Large cotton candy?” called the attendant from the window.

Sirius leaped up to claim his ice cream, looking like a kid in a candy store upon his return.

“Care to share a lick?” James teased as he leaned in to try and swipe a bite before Sirius had a chance to dig in.

“Not a chance!” Sirius guarded his cone as the attendant called out again.

“Crazy vanilla!”

“Ooh, that’s me!” Peter clapped his hands and went to collect his order.

Remus looked at James and Sirius. “Does he realize that that flavor is just vanilla ice cream but dyed different colors?”

“Shh, don’t ruin it for him, Moony!” Sirius waved him off. As Peter returned to the group, Sirius waved him along. “C’mon Wormtail, let’s go snag that table over there while these two wait for their more complicated orders.”

They took off while James and Remus continued to wait.

“Hot fudge sundae!”

“That’s me!” James jumped forward, approaching the window at the same time as the blonde who was checking him out earlier, and both reached for the same dish.

“Oh! Sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back and tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.

“No, no, go ahead,” James took the dish and handed it to her. “You’ve got good taste,” he added with a polite smile.

“So do you,” she smiled back. “Are you on holiday with your mates?”

Her inquiry takes James by surprise, but he supposes a bit of small talk can’t hurt. “Er, yeah. We’re staying in a cabin on the lake.”

“Oh, us too! On the north or south side?”

“Er, north, I think?”

James wasn’t sure if he was being honest, but it wasn’t like they were going to run into the girl again, so a little white lie couldn’t hurt.

“Same for us! I’m Elaine, by the way.” She held out her hand with the introduction.

“James,” he responded, reaching out to give her hand a quick shake.

“Say, what are you doing tonight? We could get together for a fire or something?”

Unfortunately, it looked like his willing response gave the wrong impression as the girl to the opportunity to ask him out. Her smile had turned seductive and James realized a moment too late that she was flirting. Had he really lost his game so quickly since making a go of things with Lily?

Another hot fudge sundae order was called along with Remus’s chocolate milkshake. James was about to excuse himself to grab his ice cream when Remus appeared out of nowhere.

“I’ve got this, mate.”

“Oh, er, thanks.” James grimaced.

Because Remus didn’t know about Lily, he didn’t know that James needed the ice cream as an excuse to get out of this.

Of all the times Remus decided to urge me on.

“It’ll be a fun time, I promise,” Elaine winked. “Come with me to our table and I can write down our address for you to meet us later. It won’t take long.”

The blonde reached out her free hand to graze James’s forearm and lead him to the table her friends had occupied. He followed since he couldn’t think of a way out of it. At least the solution after this point was easy. He’d thank her, make a false promise to show up, and then never follow through.

He wasn’t expecting Elaine to keep hold of his arm, and the feeling sent prickles of discomfort through the rest of his body. James wasn’t even aware that the girl was still chattering away as he was still thinking of a way to get back to his friends, and hoping Lily was still on the opposite side of town so they wouldn’t get in a row over this.

And that’s when he felt another hand grasp his opposite arm.

The feeling of the second touch was much warmer, searing his bicep as it pulled him away from the blonde with a force he wasn’t used to. As his body spun around he caught a flash of red hair before the second person’s lips were on his, the kiss deep and searing, taking him by surprise.

He was familiar with the feel of Lily’s lips by now, and forgetting that they were in public, James’s body melted into the embrace even though it was far from romantic and comforting. As Lily’s arms snaked around his neck to pull him closer, James realized she was staking her claim and it was hot. He felt the immediate arousal strain against his trousers as the thought of Lily’s jealousy sent a course of desire through his body.

It barely phased him that they were in a very public place, no doubt in front of all their friends. Yet, when the thought finally registered in his lust-filled brain, clarity sobered his body, replacing the desire with a nervous excitement.

So much for keeping things quiet.

When Lily pulled away, her gaze was fierce as she narrowed her eyes and squeezed his arms a bit harder while whispering in his ear, “I don’t want anyone else touching you like I do.”

Bloody hell, would it be improper to disapparate us back to the cabin to have my way with her right now?

Yes, yes it would. Stupid statute of secrecy.

The battle to act on his instincts versus do the right thing warred in his mind.

“And you,” Lily peered over his shoulder to the blonde who was standing behind them, mouth gaping open in surprise, “keep your hands off my boyfriend.”

“Your WHAT?!”

A chorus of shouts and shrieks escaped the mouths of their friends at Lily’s over-zealous warning.

“Looks like it’s not a secret anymore,” Lily shrugged as she pulled James back to their friends.

“Hmm, I was hoping that maybe they didn’t notice the public snog assault you just attacked me with,” James laughed. “You know I wasn’t going to do anything with her, right? She cornered me and Remus of all people helped her along. I couldn’t get away.”

“Yes, yes, I trust you. I just let my temper get the best of me, I suppose,” Lily admitted, though she didn’t seem ashamed in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, I like Aggressive Lily. Maybe I’ll let other girls try and whisk me away more—”

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, though the glint in her eye reassured him that she knew he was kidding.

“I suppose it’s time to face the onslaught of our friends, don’t you think?”

Lily sighed, “You’re sure we can’t just disapparate away instead?”

“I wish, but I’ve got a hot fudge sundae over there with my name on it. If you answer all the questions, though, I might be inclined to share.”

A devilish smirk crossed her lips as she dropped his hand and made a beeline for the table. “Not if I get there first!”

“Hey!”

James followed after her, knowing full well he’d share the ice cream with her regardless as they took turns answering their friends’ questions. Maybe it wasn’t the way James and Lily intended for the group to find out, but it certainly made for a good memory to look back on someday.

#summerofjily #jily #james potter #lily evans #jily fic

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joyseuphoria · 3 years

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All because of an ice cream

Written for @efkgirldetective ‘s Summer of Jily prompt#10 and 7

I have no idea how I wrote and what I wrote in this. Some of this is like weeks old and not edited but, my sleep deprived brain thought that it’d be good to post now!

Happy birthday, @blitheringmcgonagall (it’s still your bday in a few countries) I love you, and you’re FABULOUS

He was going to ask Lily out.

He was just going to do it. No more procrastinations, no more last minute bailing, he was going to ask her out.

Read on ao3

#Jily #jily fic #summer of jily #summerofjily #jily fanfic #jily fanfiction #we all know sirius called them lames #james x lily #fanfiction #joy writes #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #James potter #Lily Evans

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missgryffin · 3 years

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Tomorrow

@efkgirldetective’s Summer of Jily Prompt #6: Summer rain + “Nothing has changed me quite like you.” 🌧🌧🌧

Rated T for language.

Below and on AO3.

I can hear his footsteps behind me, but I don't think about slowing down, don't care; he'll follow. Hell, he'll catch up—his legs are longer. I let my own legs sprint over the lawn, relish in the blood thundering through my veins, the breath wheezing in my lungs, my arms pumping air at my sides. It feels good to run; to pretend, for even a moment, that I can escape. Sprout wings instead of these jelly legs carrying me down the hill and take off into the sky.

But I can't. I am here; grounded; trapped. I've never felt this so acutely as I do now, on the heels of that meeting in Dumbledore's office. At once in love with and in hate with my own life. On the one side: Hogwarts, friends, James. Mostly James. On the other side: prejudice, suffering, terror. Tomorrow will be the worst and hardest day of my life to date. Tomorrow, we leave this safe haven we've lived in for seven years for the last time. We cross to that other side, that world where people disappear and loved ones don't come home and Dark Marks appear randomly in the sky. Tomorrow, I'm a soldier. My name is signed over to Dumbledore, to the Order of the Phoenix, and the ink I signed it with probably isn't even dry and part of me is already screaming to take it back because I can't do this I don't want this I just want to live a normal life.

My legs start to give out near the Quidditch pitch and I let them crumble until I'm a panting heap on the grass, clutching a stitch in my side and practically choking on air as I realize I'm sobbing as I try to catch my breath.

His footsteps bear on me before coming to a stuttering halt, and then I feel hands press on my shoulders, familiar palms slide down my back, as he sits next to me, lining us up chest to chest.

"Hey," he says softly, and I look up. It's getting dark outside, not of lateness but of storm, and his normally bright hazel eyes seem dim. He doesn't ask me if I'm okay, because he knows I'm not. And he doesn't ask me what's wrong, because he knows as well as I do that it all is. We're eighteen. We should be excited. We should be getting ready to start jobs. We should be looking for flats with our friends. Instead, we are moving into the Potters' house because it's one of the safe houses that has been set up for the Order. For the war.

I clear my throat, wipe my nose on the back of my hand. "I'm not ready," I choke.

He lifts his hands to my cheeks and leans his forehead on mine. "I'm not either, Lil." His voice is thick; I hear his swallow. "But we'll have each other, yeah?"

I nod, breathe him in. James Potter is made of more courage than should be allowed, but now I think maybe that was by design. He's our source, a human well of Gryffindor, and I let him fill me up.

A drop of water splashes on my wrist, another on my brow. He kisses where it landed.

"Everything is about to change," I say, the words falling like weights. "More than life has ever changed before. I haven't felt like this, since…well, since coming here, but even then, I was so excited that all the change felt good, and now I just feel like I'm panicking, and—"

He kisses me, the only thing that's ever worked in cutting me off from spiraling thoughts, and though I've been kissing him for many months now, the heat his lips stir in my body never ceases to rise at his touch. I hum softly into his mouth, snake my own hands between us to cup his neck, tease the back of his hair. He answers with the push of his tongue between my lips, and I tilt my head, opening for him. More drops splash my nose, my fingers, my shins, but I am far too occupied now to pay them any mind.

James pulls back gently, lining his nose up with mine. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you, too." I can never say it enough.

He pulls in a deep breath through his nose, then says softly, "Change can be good."

A dry chuckle escapes. "Ah, yes, that old adage."

This elicits a smile. He pulls his head back a bit, looks at me with a new mirth in his eyes. "Well, it's true. We've both changed since that day we met on the train. A fucking lot, thank Merlin."

A laugh bursts from my chest, scrunching my eyes as I keel forward toward my knees. "You were—the biggest prat—on the fucking planet, Potter."

He grins even wider, and I know it's from using his surname, something that has dwindled as we've grown more entwined.

"Yeah, well." His face softens; fingers tuck errant hair behind my ear. "Nothing's changed me quite like you, Evans."

My heart squeezes. I hear the truth in his voice as strongly as I see it in his eyes and know it in my bones. We've traversed quite the terrain, James and I. And seven years of knowing a person, growing up with a person, will do that. Will change you. For the worse or for the better.

I thank my lucky stars that we emerged the latter.

"Lily?"

I watch a drop of rain bounce away from his charmed glasses, then another. "Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

My gaze shifts from lens to iris. James has always been a do-without-asking, show-without-telling sort of bloke. But his jaw seems clenched, and he's worrying his lip between his teeth.

"Of course," I tell him.

"I didn't plan to—well, I did, just—later, but—after earlier, and—this just feels like the moment, so—"

My eyes dart confusedly between his. "The moment for what?"

He pulls a deep breath, then sweeps his thumb across my cheek. "Will you marry me?"

My body reacts before my mind, stomach dropping, heart racing, skin flushing, and my mouth squeaks, "James—"

"I know we're young," he speaks over me, and every word shakes with his nerves, "but you're the most important person to me, Lily. The most important. And maybe in another life we'd wait and get jobs and a flat and do it all properly, but—"

Tears leak out of my eyes, and in the new steadiness of the rain, I realize I can't tell whether the water on his cheeks is his own tears, too.

"—I want to be with you, Lily. I want to wake up to you every day, and come home to you every night, and get you so fucking pregnant—"

Another laugh bursts from my throat, sending even more water from my eyes, and he's chuckling in front of me before he calms enough to continue on.

"—and I know we'll be fighting in a war, and that everything's going to change and nothing will be normal, but…whatever life I have, I want to spend it with you—"

His voice cracks on the last word, and my heart breaks and quadruples all at once.

"Yes," I breathe, "yes, James, I want that, too—"

"Really?"

His face is so open, so awed, that I can't help but chuckle. "Yes, really. You can't be surprised."

He's grinning so wide his face can barely contain it. "I'm not, I'm just"—he rests his forehead back on mine, swallows thickly—"I'm so fucking happy."

Rain slides down my face, over my hands, and washes my tears. I press my lips to his, lick the salt that I taste.

"I am too," I murmur. And I mean it; with him, I can never be otherwise.

He breaks away to lick his lips and say, "I, um. Don't actually have the ring on me."

Huh, I'd forgotten that one of those usually accompanies proposals of marriage. So I shrug. "Like I need one to marry the shit out of you."

There's that crinkle-eyed grin I've given myself over to. "I could still propose properly, like I planned."

I pout. "How long would I have to wait for that?"

His eyes are bright. "Tomorrow."

My throat closes with fresh tears, and so I nod as I try to pull in a shaky breath. The day I've been dreading is now a day I can't wait for. The way he caresses my face with that soft smile makes me think he knows. And just like that, I know: that I'll be okay, that I'll be a soldier, and that I'll give it everything I have. Because I'm fighting for us, and while we may not have a normal life, we have a life with each other. A life that's just beginning.

#missgryffin writes #tomorrow #summerofjily #jily #jple #jily fanfiction #jily oneshot

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efkgirldetective · 2 years

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⚘ lyric: I can't tell you how I feel —"let me roll it" (paul mccartney)

⚘ location: beach

#summerofjily #prompt2 #jily #writing prompt #fic prompt

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maraudersftw · 3 years

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Salt Air

Summary - The last day of summer brings with it the courage for some much-needed conversations (and confessions). Now, if only James Potter could understand how to make it fun.

This one’s for @the-dream-team because it’s her birthday (!!!!!) and Dylan deserves the absolute best of all things. I adore you so much, lovely, and I hope you have the most gorgeous day ever! ❤❤❤

And since @efkgirldetective has direct access to my thoughts, this is also my submission for Summer of Jily Fest 2021, under the prompt: watching the sunrise/sunset + I've been saving all my summers for you ☀️🧡

Lulling waves lapped at her feet, gliding over ankles as they rushed to meet the shore; just a faint touch, before pulling back again sluggishly. She’d had the good sense to dress up in shorts, arms crossed over chest, the saltiness of the summer air a peculiar, familiar sting in her nose.

Lily sighed, melancholy tugging on the walls of her chest as she stared out at the endless stretch of horizon; colours orange and red and pink bleeding over the evening sky.

She sensed his arrival by the sound of gentle splashing, and a twist of her head revealed that he’d moved to stand beside her on the beach. James hadn’t bothered to save his own trousers from the water, letting the fabric soak up all that it could, and his face was as serene as if he didn’t even notice anything discomfiting. She supposed that this general lack of worry and a penchant for disarray wasn’t too out of character for him.

Lily smiled, looked straight ahead again, and closed her eyes.

“Hey, Evans,” he said over the kiss of a humid breeze. “Hope I’m not shattering your peace.”