Trying out the word come, you're welcome @practicecourts LOL! We'll see how it sits with me! So far, no problems 🤣
Lay All Your Love On Me | Rating: M
Chapter Nineteen | Beginning
Prompt: satisfy
Summary: The first time Lily kisses James, he doesn’t even know.
“I’m so angry with you.” He towers over her, squashing her between his body and the wall and suddenly she doesn’t care for luxuries like lung function and personal space; she wants him to press against her until she turns to ash – burnt and dusty from the blazing heat of his body.
“Bite me, Potter.” He's irate, but she’s not sorry. Not one bit.
She doesn’t actually expect him to close the distance between them and sink his teeth into her lower lip as he slams her — his hand cups the back of her head — into the rickety wall, pressing flush against her until she can feel him – hard, throbbing, desperate – between her legs.
“So fucking furious.” Bruising kisses punctuate his fierce words. She responds by tugging him harshly; nips at his lip until he opens his mouth just enough that she can steal his tongue between her lips and gently suck until she pulls a deep moan from his throat.
His arousal prods her, as unrelenting as his lips that continue their mission to cover every inch of her.
Suddenly he’s inside her — knickers torn and discarded on the old oak floor — driving his hips hard enough there’s sure to be imprints on her back to compliment the bruises that will colour her hips. The low curse that falls from his lips sends Lily spinning, colours whizzing before her eyes before she’s grounded by his smug voice inches from her ear.
“You’re going to come.”
She attempts to glare at him — it’s somewhat ruined when her eyes roll back in her head as his deft fingers find her nipples — and has to wait out the whine that leaves her mouth before she can properly respond with a scoff and “Think you can make me, Potter?”
James groans and presses his forehead against hers, breath warm on her face. Two years is enough time for him to perfect his dance – to know her body as well as he knows his own. She knows it. He knows it. But they wouldn’t be Lily and James if she didn’t push when he pulled – to be contrary, just for fun .
His cock twitches inside her — he’s close too — and he growls softly into her ear, fingers digging into her breasts as he twists the sensitive buds between his fingers. It’s sharp and almost painful. She gives him a retaliatory squeeze.
But he wins when his fingers skim her clit — trailing the juices of her arousal from where they’re joined — and her thighs begin to tremble and squeeze his hips. James thrusts hard and fast, hands grasping the milky flesh of her arse, grinding into her dripping cunt hard enough Lily briefly wonders if the wall against her back will hold.
The thought is fleeting; hot white pleasure unfurls low in her belly and moves up to her chest. She arches her back to release the tension and lets out a slow moan. "That's it, baby. Let go." Another wave of pleasure washes over her, leaving her shaking and weak; completely at mercy to the sweet muttering coming from his lips before he skinks completely into her, the hot spurts of his own pleasure filling her as a satisfied groan sounds deep in his throat.
She’ll have to explain herself, but for now, she’ll just float in the bliss.
Prompts: shine
Summary: The first time Lily kisses James, he doesn’t even know.
“Occlumency?”
James starts as the hefty book is stolen from his lap by the red-haired goddess he shares a dorm with. Not that she’s a goddess because of any subjective feelings he might have towards her. It’s just a fact; anyone in the castle would agree.
Lily gently turns her bottom lip over between her teeth as her eyes quickly take in the contents of the page. James tries not to think about how her lips would feel on his – or anywhere else.
“Why are you learning occlumency?” Shining green eyes regard him curiously. They're objectively beautiful in an entirely platonic way.
Because every night I fall asleep and dream about making you scream. “I think it will be useful for the war.”
“And is the practice coming along?” Lily prods, flipping through the chapter. James is relieved she’s taken his excuse – it’s not a complete lie; it will be helpful during the war – and not pushed until he (inevitably) spilled.
“Sirius helps me sometimes,” James reveals. “I suppose I’m just reading until I go home and see him again.”
“Alright.” Lily nods. “Let me know if you need a potion for the headache.”
“I wi– how do you know about the headaches?”
Lily hesitates. Glances away from his eyes for a moment and suddenly James knows exactly how she knows before she confirms it. “Severus started learning it in fifth year, right before we…” She trails off and looks rather uncomfortable.
“Right,” James says, his own mood souring at the thought. “Well seeing as I’m not keen on spending any time with Snape – no offence – I guess I’ll stick with reading until I see Sirius again.
Lily hesitates again and opens her mouth, wrinkling her nose (in a completely un-adorable way, not that he's thinking about her adorability) and pursing her lips.
“What?” James
“I can help you practise if you want…I know the spell.”
Lily straddling his hips, bouncing as he guides her hips. His fingers threading through red hair as her lips bob up and down his shaft. Her soft sighs as James licks up her dripping lips. Lily in a white dress James found in one of his mother’s muggle fashion magazines. Lily mouthing three little words to him through a brilliant grin.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“Right.” Her voice is tight now. James drags his mind from dreams to the face in front of him. She’s flushes, looking at the floor as she snatches her bag up, placing his book on the low table in front of him.
“Wait, Lily I –”
“It’s fine James, I get it. You need someone you trust.”
Even though every word she speaks is accurate, something is still dreadfully, incredibly, entirely, wrong.
Prompt: strong
Summary: The first time Lily kisses James, he doesn’t even know.
CW: more chats (and arguments) about the non-consensual exploits of one drunken Lily Evans
The unpleasantness he’d swallowed rears its ugly head in his throat, almost coming up all over the maroon carpet as he takes in the sight in front of him.
Lily’s hunched over — knees on plush carpet, forehead against the curved arm of the couch — small and delicate as she shakes, each tremor tearing through James’ heart with far more vigour than sounds ever could.
It’s rare for James to feel out of depth when someone needs support; he lets his happiness seep out and crawl over Sirius (forced to endure his family), Remus (cursed to withstand the painful effects of an ostracised condition) and Peter (an insecure lad on a good day).
He’s comforted Lily before; he knows how she’ll fight the hug — stubborn even in despair — before slumping into him. He’s never before wanted to hold her so badly while the crushing force of guilt pushes with equal measure to keep his feet planted where she’s out of reach.
He starts easy. “I’m sorry for Sirius; he was out of line.”
She starts — unaware of his presence — and the spear of guilt strikes deeper into his heart at the sight of her crumbled spirit.
“And most of all, I’m sorry,” James whispers as his voice escapes him, stuck in his throat as he hangs his head. “I am so so so sorry, Lily.”
“You’re sorry?” It’s chocked, but incredulous nonetheless.
“Yes!” James blurts, moving to kneel before her, hands pausing — outstretched and shaking — before falling to his sides least he breaches the invisible barrier of trust yet again. He’s never been desperate for anything like he is for Lily to believe he’s sorry.
She’s shaking her head and James has a moment of terrible ache where he thinks she might tell him she doesn’t want to see him ever again — fair of her, but devastating still — before her words escape. “I’m sorry, James. Me.”
As she shakes her head, a terrible ache settles in James’ stomach; she’s going to tell him to leave, she’s going to never want to see him, she’s —”
“ I’m sorry, James.”
He blinks at her; the surprise is paralysing before a fire ignites his fierce words. “You don’t owe me any apology!” He shakes his head so furiously his glasses slide down his nose. He shoves them back onto his face so he can look Lily in the eyes. She doesn’t owe him anything.
“Yes, I do!” Lily finds fight in her indignance, eyes sparking alive at his apparent stupidity. “It’s completely the other way around, James! You don’t owe me one!”
He gapes, astounded. What world was she living in? “Lily, I really, really do.”
“But you haven’t done anything!” Her voice pitches in exasperation before her face falls — quickly covered by her hands — and it’s only because he’s moved closer in their argument that he catches her muffled words. “Not like me.”
“That’s exactly the point… I did nothing !” It escapes quiet and broken — he’s disgusted with himself — as the pool of sorrow that’s been threatening to overflow since Sirius left makes its first escape, dashing down his cheek.
“No, James! How can you think that? I’m the one who…” She wrings her hands as she alternates between staring him fiercely in the eyes and boring a shame-faced hole in the carpet.
“It’s not your fault!” James pleads. Why can’t she just listen? “Lily, you were —”
“— Smashed! Plastered! Yeah, and I came into your room and assaulted — oh Merlin”
“You didn’t assault me!” James insists. He might laugh at the idea if he wasn’t in the shadowy depths of guilt. “You were drunk Lily, you had no idea —”
“That doesn’t excuse what I did, James!”
“I was sober, it’s my fault Lily!” “It is not! ” She emerges from her vulnerable cocoon like a butterfly in flames as she pokes him in the chest for good measure. There’s a tiny part of James that’s happy she isn’t curled in on herself anymore even if she’s spouting nonsense.
“ Well, it sure as hell isn’t yours! ” He does not poke her in the chest, but the urge to shake her until she stops blaming herself is there.
Lily stares at him. A beat of silence passes. “Would you be saying that if the situation was reversed?” She’s quiet again, but her voice stays firm. Stubborn witch.
“That’s different!” His guilt only grows as he wonders if he should ever get truly smashed in her presence.
“It’s not! Which is why this is my fault! James, I got drunk and came and did all sorts of things you never consented to, I —”
“And you’re saying you consented?” James almost laughs — he seems to be doing that a lot; she’s making such ridiculous statements. “Lily, I was sober, I should have stopped —”
“I shouldn’t even have been there!”
James pauses and looks at her. She’s flushed, wide-eyed and tear-stained. “You don’t have to be sorry, Lily,” he murmurs. “And it is different.”
“It’s not!” She raises her chin stubbornly. “Are you saying you’d think it my fault if you turned up drunk in my bed?”
“Of course not!” James protests at once. “But I could have stopped you and I didn’t. That’s why it’s on me.”
She shakes her head and opens her mouth, but James powers on. “I’m not saying it would be the same the other way around because it is different. Lily, I’m bigger and stronger than you; you turned up drunk without your wand,” — in his pause, he realises she’s listening now — “Lily, I could have easily just picked you up, carried you back to your room and fetched you a sobering potion — that’s why it’s on me. I let you keep going, knowing that it wasn’t something you’d want to do sober.” He heaves a dry inhale to control the tremble in his throat. “Do you see now? It’s my fault”
“No, James you don’t understand!” She’s crying again, tears renewed as she reaches for him before drawing her hand back like her fingers touched a flame. “This is me! I’m the one who has all these uncontrolled feelings and I’m the one who has let it spiral out of control! Me, James!” She’s laughing now — unhappy and slightly unhinged as she continuous deliriously — “I thought they might pass, but they haven’t, I mean the sex dreams should have been a hint I had lost complete control, but on I went, determined to —”
“— Feelings and sex dreams?” Can you choke and die on nothing but air?
“I know, right?” He really doesn’t.
“Arhhgggle —” His world is spinning. He’s dizzy from a realisation dancing just out of reach. He can’t speak. He can’t think.
Lily doesn’t seem to take his momentary brain malfunction into consideration — or perhaps she thinks he’s suffering a stroke; he certainly feels like it. Words float through his ears as he gapes at her. Entirely pathetic — unfair — hurt you — in love with you — fuck it up.
“Wait what?” His brain slugs into gear as I’m in love with you rings in his head like a choir.
“What?” Lily frowns at him.
“You’re in love with me?” James is in disbelief.
“Yes, don’t you see James, this is why it’s all my fault, I —”
“You’re in love with me. ” The laugh escapes him this time as the choir reaches a joyous song.
She shrinks under his stare as she folds back into herself. “I know I deserve it, but you can stop making fun.”
“Making fun? Merlin, Lily.” A second delighted laugh escapes his lips until its touch makes her flinch; he stomps on his excitement so he can fucking speak.
His calloused fingers brush her soft ones gently. “Lily.”
She looks up. James brushes the fresh tears off her skin, thumb dusting her cheek. “I’m so sorry James.” She closes her eyes as she — unconsciously, James thinks — leans into his palm.
“I love you too.” Her eyes fly open like his words have reached into the heavens and brought a bolt of lightning through her spine.
“What?” It’s a trembling whisper, carried to James’ ears only by the silence of the common room.
“I, James Potter love you, Lily Evans.” The first time James kisses Lily, it’s wet and salty, tears of grief turn to relief as he presses into her with the desperation of a man who found water after days in the desert. He drinks in the taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her until he cups her cheek — forehead pressed to forehead — and just breathes.
Update! @jilymicrofics Thanks for returning some sprinkles @practicecourts - here are some of them for whenever you catch up with this xx
Lay All Your Love On Me | Rating: M
Chapter Eighteen | Beginning
Prompt: glow
Summary: The first time Lily kisses James, he doesn’t even know.
“Do you like it? I put in on just for you.”
A horrible sense of deja vu slams into James as he whips his head up to peer at his dark doorway – eyes strain to make sense of the form in the shadow. A moment later, a breath escapes him as he looks at Lily – his Lily – as she enters the room.
It’s immediately obvious she’s sober; the tentative way she walks, the way her hands wring nervously. James congratulates himself on noticing any of this when she’s standing in his Quidditch Jersey – just his jersey – in his room, completely by choice and without a drop of firewhisky in her system.
“Is this alright?” She tugs at the hem of the large shirt as she pulls her lip between her teeth uncertainly. He vaguely acknowledges – through the fog of admiration – that she must have nicked his shirt, before he also realises he hasn’t said a bloody word and her face is beginning to fall.
“More than alright, sorry you rendered me speechless for a moment…you’re so…well I don’t think beautiful even begins to do you justice.”
She flushes prettily, ducking her head down as she shifts her weight.
“Want to come here?” He holds the cover of his duvet open for her; looks on in disbelief as she scurries to his bed quickly, slipping under the cover until she’s close – but still much too far away – enough to smell. He inhales deeply through his nose, nostrils flaring at her scent.
“I wasn’t sure if it was too soon to joke about, but, well, I umm, I want you to know I do still want to be here even when I’m not smashed.”
“It’s not too soon,” James assures her. “I was just very distracted.” He trails his fingers along the boundary of fabric and skin.
“You’re not without distractions yourself.” She glances down at his bare chest, biting her lip. “May I?”
“Yeah.” He nearly stops breathing as her nails trace a soft pattern down his abs. “Can I touch you ?
“Please.” It’s whispered a breath from his mouth as she leans in to capture his lips.
The third time they kiss it’s slow and sensual, new and familiar all at once. James thinks he could call her lips home, could greet dawn and dusk attached to them; taste them until he runs out of oxygen.
“Is here okay?” He whispers as they part briefly. Just long enough to let their heavy breaths mingle together. His larger hand slips up, lightly caressing the swell of her arse.
“James.”
“Yeah?” He stills his hand, ready to backtrack at one word from her.
“Everywhere is okay.”
“Me too.” He squeezes the flesh of her before flattening his palm and pulling her flush against him. He slips his hand up to her back, supporting her as he flips them over so he can hover over her, one forearm holding his weight while the other hand learns the map of her skin. Lips crash together again, more desperate this time; tongues slip past parted lips.
His heart nearly beats out of his chest as he cups her through his jersey. Her nipples rise like bread as he teases her through the thick material of his jumper, before sliding it up so he can devour her breasts with no barrier.
He throbs wildly against his underwear as she lets out her first whimper at the feel of his lips.
“You’re perfect.” He tells her. She is. She’s like a goddess laid out before him, fanned red hair on the pillow adding to her ethereal glow.
“Are you wet for me Lils?” He ventures in a daring whisper, groaning as her eyes snap open to look at him, pupils blown.
“Why don’t you find out?” It’s an invitation James doesn’t need twice. His fingers trace her through her knickers – pulling another delicious whine from her lips – before he slips under to her soaking flesh, lightly skimming up and down as he gets a feel for her.
“Shit, you are .” Lily is breathless as he circles her clit, dipping his fingers inside of her to spread the juices of her arousal. He pulls one more breathless cry before pushing the fabric up so he can pepper kisses across her naval. “Can I please taste you?”
She props herself up on her elbows – brow furring into a minuscule frown that means she’s nervous – as her eyes dart over his face, so James waits, pressing one gentle kiss on each side of her belly button. “You can change your mind,” he reminds her. “We don’t have to continue if you’re not comfortable, I –”
“It’s not that!” She bites her lip. “I want to continue…I just haven’t done this before.”
His eyebrows knit as he recalls the months Lily spent with Alden Fawley. She must read his confusion – guess what he’s thinking about – because she flushes slightly. “I thought you guys…I heard you got caught in…” He fumbles, unsure if he wants to think about the night he’d overheard that particular tidbit of gossip.
“Yeah, we did. I’ve done the fingering and the sex, just not this .”
James feels an irrational surge of possession that he’ll be her first if she’ll let him.
“Well you look delicious,” he says truthfully, glancing down at the wet spot visible through her knickers. “I really want to taste you, but only if you want to too.”
She holds his gaze for a moment before her expression softens, she lifts her hips with a moaned assent and a whispered I trust you , humming as James pulls her knickers down, sucking the inside of her thigh before – unable to resist the pull of the delectable looking feast in front of him – leaning into the wetness between her legs so he can properly devour her.
She’s wet and shaking and oh so sensitive. James exploits each moan with a swipe of his tongue as he drives her closer and closer to ecstasy. He ignores the ache and throb of his own desire as he buries his face into her, groaning alongside her when her thighs begin to tremble, squeezing his head tight between her legs as her fingers pull at threads of his hair.
James keeps a gentle pressure on her – lets her hips guide her pleasure – until her fingers push at his head instead of pulling him closer. He plants one parting kiss on her wet lips before trailing gentle open-mouthed kisses up her body until he can kiss her again.
“You’re really good at that.”
Pride fills him to the brim, escaping in a soft bashful smile. “I’m glad you thought so.”
Lily pulls him down, lips moving slower this time, but no less sensually, as her hands skim tracks of fire down his abs. He sucks in a breath when she traces the outline of his erection through his pants; her lips stretch to a smirk as she squeezes him.
His brain clouds as her hand slips past his waistband – all he can remember is repeating her name over and over again – until she scoots down, rubbing the head of his cock against her soft folds. “Lils, you feel so good.”
“I want to feel more of you,” she confesses, letting the head of his cock rest at her entrance in invitation.
“Fuck.” He sinks into her – she’s wet, warm and all-consuming – swallowing her moan as his pelvis grinds into her. “I won’t last long,” he confesses, flushed. “Are you on the potion? I’m sorry, you –”
“Don’t be sorry, James.” She squeezes around him. His eyes flutter closed. “I’ve on the potion; you can finish inside.”
“I want to get you there again,” he murmurs. “Tell me what you like.”
“Circles,” Lily guides his hips until she’s whining after every stroke, “and can you…” she gestures at her breast as she trails off into a low moan. He cups her breast, thumb teasing her nipple as he alternates between watching her face and the place their bodies join. “Mouth,” she requests, arching her chest into him.
James sucks the pebbled flesh between his lips, flicking his tongue over her. It’s all she needs to crash into pleasure – juices gushing around his cock as she sighs in his ear – and that is all he needs to follow, throbbing inside her quivering walls as he releases into her, hips stuttering, eyes fluttering, breath short in gasps.
“I love you.” His heart sings when she echoes his words. The first time they bask in the afterglow it’s sleepy and sweet, murmurs of sweet nothings float between them, fingers link and brush against each other and they’re happy. For now.
I am prepared for the hate 😈 I'd say come congratulate me on reaching 200 kudos for this fic, but I have a feeling something else will be on your mind by the end of this chapter 🙃
Lay All Your Love On Me | Rating: M
Chapter Twenty | Beginning
Prompt: glare
Summary: The first time Lily kisses James, he doesn’t even know.
The amber liquid in his glass swirls in a vortex as James stares – content to let his eyes linger – at the dark-haired witch as she runs a seductive hand down her target’s chest. She’s good; he barely catches the small tilt of her hand – and the palmed vial of clear liquid – that seals the wizard's fate.
It’s only a few minutes before she’s guiding the wizard to the back rooms the bar rents by the hour. He winds through the crowd as quickly as he can, only to be stopped by the slam of metal on wood as the clerk throws his flask down to squint at James. His skin is a peeling sallow, his eyes a pale lifeless blue.
“Room,” James says shortly, clunking down a few sickles.
“Where’s your whore?” Yellow teeth glint in the candlelight as cracked lips stretch into a ghoulish grin.
“Am I paying for an inquisition or a room?” James snaps, letting the tip of his wand slide from its holster.
“Room 4.” It’s the unfriendliest customer service voice James has ever heard in his life, but he snatches the key, swiftly rounding the corner towards his room.
The hair on the back of his neck stands, but he’s not quick enough on the draw; the tip of a wand presses sharply into his ribs.
“Wand.” A tattooed hand extends, sharp purple nails glittering in the moonlight. The wand digs further into the crease between his ribs at his scoff. “Now.”
“You don’t want to do that, I –”
“Don’t tell me what I want, Potter.”
He swivels to face her, the tip of her weapon jabbing unpleasantly into the softer part of his stomach. He ignores it. “You know who I am?” It’s not as silly of a question as it sounds; James is four transfigurations and two charms into a disguise.
“Guess you’re not as good as you think you are.” She shrugs carelessly. “Perhaps your wandwork needs some work.” Her blue eyes dip down past his waist suggestively.
“My wandwork is just fine,” James bites out, glaring at her.
“What do you want? Why are you here, following me?” James presses his lips together; he’s certainly not supposed to be here. “You’re the one holding me at wand point,” he deflects. “What do you want?”
He’s prepared for the hard push of her wand this time; it doesn’t sink far as he flexes. Annoyance flickers across her face – eyes narrowed and lips downturned – before the wand suddenly vanishes – he breathes out – only to reappear under his jaw where he has no muscles to protect him from the sharp pain to his throat. “I came to see how hard I can make you before I fuck you, Potter.”
She says it plainly, like it’s inevitable , but that doesn’t stop the guilt that grows ugly inside his chest as his cock twitches where she can feel it – close as she is now – against her thigh. How can he want to be here ? How can a morning spent buried inside searing warmth – green eyes gentle and red hair tousled from sleep – not be enough?
It should be, but it’s not.
He’s already straining against his trousers when his mouth follows his cock in turning traitor.
Prompts: dark
Summary: The first time Lily kisses James, he doesn’t even know.
“Morning?” It’s more of a question than he intends, but he can’t blame himself too much; it’s been a rough few days of heartache and tears – and they’re just teetering on the edge of a precipice they might recover from.
They’ve gone from fiery and argumentative, to teasing and friends, to awkward and crying on each other in the middle of the night, to entirely heartbroken that he might never talk to her again, to tentative friends – they could do it this time, he’s sure of it, he’ll make sure of it – and he won’t let anything happen to their fragile happy existence.
She’s smiling again and meeting his eyes – hopeful and beautiful instead of skittish and upset – and she has a certain glow about her in the morning. Has she slept as well as him after the weight of their misunderstanding has lifted?
He knows what the core issue of their problems over the past two weeks is and it’s him. His uncontrolled body has led to each awkward moment, each avoided glance, each tear shed. He had been the cause of all of her pain – whether she would admit it was his fault or not – and he wishes he could take every single one back. He wishes the feel of her body pressed up against him didn’t drive his wildest dreams into chaos and suddenly find his physical impulses torn from his rational mind.
The guilt is heaviest after red hair and green eyes appear during moments of whirling pleasure; the ecstasy he claims from her plump lips tight around his cock. Their friendship is off to a rather terrible start; Lily deserved a friend who didn’t have the image of her naked cunt burned into the back of his eyelids every time he went to sleep.
So James knows one thing: if he is to be friends with Lily Evans – head girl, smartest witch in their year and most brilliant human he’s met – he has to properly get over her. He has to take his love for her and repress it so much that it will fit in a tiny box – a box that can be crushed between his fingers and thrown into the deepest recess of his mind.
“Morning,” he says instead as she stops shyly in front of him. He breathes through his mouth because he knows she’s wearing her muggle perfume that will make him think things and he is absolutely, 100% dedicated to getting over his friend.
“Are you sick?” He didn’t think his change in breathing would merit her curiosity.
“No, I’m fine,” James manages innocently enough. At least fine in the way you’re asking.
“Right,” Lily frowns casting one last look over him. “Walk me to breakfast?”
“Love to!” James answers. He’s quite proud it comes out as normal and not at all eager. He carries her bag because his mother raised him that way. Not because he has any sort of improper or unfriendly feelings towards the Head Girl. Because that was going to stop. It had to; they are friends .
James will find a way to get over her and they will go down in Hogwarts A History as the friendliest friends that have ever friended. He’s sure of it.
Prompts: gentle + acidic
Summary: The first time Lily kisses James, he doesn’t even know.
Lily awakens in the gentle embrace of dawn’s first light, but the ethereal beauty stands in stark contrast to the dewdrops of sorrow that mark her pale skin. A restless night of sleep – she cried until she ran out of tears and sobbed until her throat turned raw – has left her heartache untouched and a new dread takes root in her as she remembers what she’s done.
Thank you @charmsandtealeaves for the warm welcome to the Jily Fandom. Hope you enjoy Xx
.
.
Because of course when things aren’t planned, you can’t take into account the fact the compartment might be occupied by a stranger.
A very fit stranger, Lily noted as she dragged her eyes over his dark pants, sage linen shirt that was buttoned up past his elbows. His utterly delicious forearms on display.
Well how the hell was she supposed to focus when he had arms like that?
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