#tftdc snippets

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

i know i’m gone lots, but here’s a little thing that unexpectedly snuck into my day!

happy almost-summer 🥰🌷🌼

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

well i’m going to be thinking about this for the rest of eternity!

here’s a bit of married jily from The First Time Divorcees Club 😉

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You like it,” James responds and slides his hand around her arse, pulling her on top of him. She gasp-laughs and props herself up, hands braced on either side of his head. She smiles down at him, hair falling around her shoulders in a soft cloud.

“I do,” she concedes. She wants to trace the lines of his mouth—the quiet smile he’s wearing now. It’s not his usual grin, but it’s softer and directed entirely at her. A little upturn at the corner, lips slightly parted. Eyes bright and unguarded without his specs in the way. She wants to memorize the feeling of his happiness, so when they’re apart she can touch her fingertips to her mouth and imagine that slight curve against hers.

She can’t do any of that, since her hands are currently occupied with holding her up—though pressing entirely up against his bare chest with her bare chest doesn’t sound like such a bad idea—so she consoles herself with dipping her head and kissing him.

tagging @clare-with-no-i @firefeufuego2 @hogwartslivy @joyseuphoria​ and @blitheringmcgonagall​

Snippet Saturday

@pottinglilies and @theesteemedladydebourgh tagged me to share a line from a WIP but I don't want to share just one! 😅 Here's a teaser from the Second Chances AU I'm working on:

Lily’s heart skips as her eyes dart automatically toward the clump of people opposite her, mind already racing about the possibility of seeing a familiar face, and then it feels like her heart stops entirely, like her stomach falls straight through the floor, when her gaze instantly lands on the hazel eyes already locked on her.

Six years ago, when she’d arrived on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters for her seventh year at Hogwarts, she’d thought his newly defined muscles and longer hair had turned him into a man over the summer. How wrong she’d been. This, in front of her, is James Potter turned into a man.

Strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones, tamed hair. Bags under his eyes and five o’clock shadow on his face, both of which only serve to somehow make him more handsome. He’d always been pale, but now he looks ashen—or is that a result of seeing her?

A discreet elbow to her arm knocks her out of her trance and Lily blinks, glances sideways. Ruby’s eyebrows are high on her forehead, but she seems to be the only one who noticed the staring match happening while everyone else’s attention is focused on Aurora. Thank Merlin.

Back at ya Clo and Ange if you have more snippets to share, and also tagging @mppmaraudergirl @theresthesnitch @jilyesplz @thequibblah @the-dream-team @maraudersftw if you feel like it!

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

In the spirit of Christmas, could we get a snippet of TFTDC? 👀🌲🥰���️❤️❤️

No pressure!! Loved your newest fic as well. 💞

of course! and ty so much 🥰

i actually cannot believe it's been 2 years since i wrote JHF, where does the time go!!! 😭

this is actually from ch. 9 of TFTDC (july pt i), and it's from a plotline i'm very excited about 👀

“I met someone tonight,” she says hesitantly. Fleamont raises a brow. “Oh? Who?” “Lucy Avery,” Lily says. Fleamont sets down his stack of dishes. “Oh,” he says again, but there’s something deeper running beneath it. His brow is furrowed slightly, but after a second he goes back to stacking. “I suppose you’re wondering why Effie and I invited her, considering the circumstances?”

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Hi Ange! If I’m not too late (or if you haven’t done this one yet)…hand 👀

hey kelsey! 🥰 there's a lot more of jily [redacted] in this chapter than i thought there would be tbh. i'm sure all of you will/won't enjoy that, depending on your persuasion 😂

Lily laughs, the sound slightly strained and pulls away. Her eyes are slightly red and her hands linger on his shoulders. “Right,” she says. “My mistake.”

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳 

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Happy writing cave, lovely Ange, word ask - pain <3

hi hi 🥰

James’s heart riots, and the sickness mingles with care so strong it almost makes him ill. He wants to grab that agedness, the exhaustion in his friend, the years of pain, and crush it into nothing. He’ll do anything, trade anything, give up his own right arm—

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

can you give us lil bit snippet from tftdc chapter 8? 😆

of course! 😊

this chapter is all about James, and I've got tons of notes for what that will look like, but i haven't fully dived into yet (I'm excited to, character introspection is one of my favorite things to do). but i do have this little bit 👀

Self doubt isn’t a look James Potter wears very well.

“You can’t do any good for anyone outside this office, Potter,” Lena had said. “Especially not for your wife.”

And Dumbledore, all those years ago during that fateful meeting, when he was sullen and angry in his office. Eighteen years old. A whispered confession that his Headmaster certainly shouldn’t have been able to pry out of him when his own mates couldn’t. “I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“James,” Dumbledore said quietly to him, eyes bright and old. “Don’t think of the hurt that has been done to you. Think...of the good you can do for others. That’s why you’re joining the Auror force, is it not?”

His heart had ached and he didn’t feel like he could do much good at that moment, not without her, but he was eighteen. He was young and the world outside went on, and he could make himself believe in possibility.

The hall outside the lifts is silent, except for the suddenly loud ticking of his watch.

If you stripped away his job and his desk, his house and his wealth...Merlin, he thinks with a yawning feeling of terror, what else is left?

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Breath

oh, this one is spoilery 👀

He wants to take a breath, but the room is suddenly strangled of all air. Evans does that to him—he’s yet to figure out why, and he dislikes it in an imprecise sort of way. Last year, he would’ve said he disliked her.

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳 

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

If the word asks are still available: sigh 💗

“Potter,” she sighs. Dry. “Do come in.”

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Word for the ask game, "feeling."

Can't wait for the update!!

A strange pull at that scar of their past. Another feeling, caught between shame and discomfort. 

Send me a word from TFTDC 8! 🥳

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

TFTDC Ch 8 Snippet (June: in and out of focus)

as promised, i did some work on this yesterday! 🥰 i think this is no longer the opening scene of the chapter (in any case, it starts mid-scene, so there’ll be something leading up to it), but it turned out quite plotty and non-jily...so i added an extra scene from a little later on (still the same night in the fic!) to make up for it 😉 

hope you all enjoy!

JAMES

Avery raises a brow. “I hear he’s still in St. Mungo’s. Terribly tragic that you haven’t caught the perpetrator.”

“Unfortunate Moody can’t talk yet,” James responds tightly. The urge to grip his wand is so overpowering, so similar to the adrenaline that floods him whenever he’s in a duel that he almost flinches.

Avery’s face doesn’t flicker, a smooth mask locked into place over his cold eyes. “The world is a cruel place, Mr. Potter,” he says and inclines his head. “Good day.”

James doesn’t respond, shoulders locking tight, and he’s just winding up to walk away when—

“And do send my regards to your wife, will you?”

He can’t hide the slight inhale, and he curses himself for a bleeding, fucking fool when Avery’s face almost imperceptibly flashes with satisfaction. “What?” His voice is a low growl. His hand hovers by his pocket, tense.

“I was remiss in not sending my congratulations for the happy event,” Avery says. His lips twitch, though there isn’t an ounce of humor in his expression. “She’s such a…unique woman.”

Woman. Not witch.

You cannot kill him in a Ministry corridor, James chants in his mind, over and over. His neck strains, entire body locked tight. He hates this prick, with a furious rush of anger.

Avery doesn’t seem to be thrown by his lack of response; he just laughs softly to himself, the sound as equally devoid of amusement as his smile. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Potter,” he says and steps away, carries on down the corridor.

And James…he doesn’t move. He doesn’t follow Quinn Avery’s disappearance with his eyes, he doesn’t follow to strangle him with his bare hands. He stands there in the green stone corridor as Ministry employees pass around him, mentally counting to ten, twenty, thirty, forty in his mind.

On forty-five, his fingers uncurl and he breathes in, body unlocking very slowly.

Rage simmers beneath the numbers echoing in his head, and he doesn’t let himself dwell as he turns sharply on his heel. His footsteps echo, echo—

“I’m doubling the tail on Avery.”

To Lena’s credit, she doesn’t start at his slamming entrance into her office. She looks up at him, blinking slowly. Her lips go thin. “Potter,” she sighs. Dry. “Do come in.”

James ignores the obvious displeasure on her face. The second the door clicks forcefully shut behind him, he’s speaking again. “Lena, he—“ His words cut off, strangling in his throat as he notices for the first time that they’re not alone in the room.

Aurelia Bernadette blinks at him from the corner. She’s standing with her arms crossed, a blank expression on her face. She inclines her head a little at him.

James leans back on his heels, trying not to look thrown. He swipes a hand through his hair. “I—uh…”

“You were saying?” Lena prompts, arching a brow. She looks thoroughly resigned about something, though he can’t imagine what.

James pulls himself together. Forget Aurelia. “I’m doubling the tail on Avery,” he repeats. “He’s doing something and we need to make sure that we catch him when he slips up. Amelia’s wrapping up her Norten case, so I can have her do extra—“

“Potter,” Lena says and it’s exhausted enough that it makes James stop talking, as nothing would. “We’re pulling the tail on Avery.”

James’s hand bangs against the edge of her desk. “What?”

Lena shakes her head. Her face looks more lined than usual. “The Office thinks it’s a drain on resources,” she says. “Moreno’s been gone for months, and the lead on Moody dried up. There haven’t been any new curse victims in over six months. It’s time to let it go.”

“The Office,” James repeats, experiencing the odd feeling that he’s underwater. Fuck it, no, he’s angry. “You are the Office.”

“I answer to the Department,” Lena says sharply. Her lips have disappeared, so thin and tight with her tension. “We all do.” The warning in her voice is clear. Remember your job.

Aurelia speaks up quietly. “I argued against it in the Minister’s offices.”

James starts, having forgotten she was there. He isn’t sure what he feels when his gaze settles on her—confusion? Anger? Suspicion?

Her face is hard to read, but her words don’t seem false. “I said you were onto something, but without Auror Moody heading the Department and no evidence…”

Oh.

He’s not an idiot. He’s not a fucking idot.

Aurelia trails off, exchanges a look with a grim Lena.

“They’ve lost faith in me,” James says. A muscle jumps in his jaw. “The Department thinks I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Lena’s silent, then she sighs. “James,” she says. “Maybe this is for the best. You’ve been running yourself ragged for a year.”

“I’m fine.” James realizes he’s in real danger of yelling, and he forces himself to calm. “Moody is lying unconscious in a hospital while the bastards who got him are walking free in Denmark, and Adrian could be murdered—“

“Or he ran,” Aurelia says. She purses her lips. “And as I understand, Alastor had his fair share of enemies. Any one of them could’ve struck.”

“You’re wrong,” James snaps, uncaring that he’s glaring at a superior. Lena makes a grumbling noise. He steps back, clutches his hair. “It’s—Lena, you can’t believe that everything that happened this year is a coincidence, can you?”

“No,” Lena responds and James’s shoulders drop, then she adds, “But part of being a good Auror is knowing when to follow orders.” Her eyes bore into him. “You’re a good Auror, Potter.”

The words in his throat choke. What if I’m not? he thinks, wild for one second, but then reality catches up with him. Lena. Aurelia. The office. The job he’s made his life for a decade.

His shoulders slowly drop from their tense position. There’s a horrible taste in his mouth.

Lena sees it, and she relaxes as well. “Tell your wife,” she says and her words are a bit gentler. “I’m sure she’ll be relieved to go back to St. Bart’s. And Dearborn and Black.”

Your wife.

Those words in Avery’s cold drawl made his blood freeze, but now that same phrase in his boss’s calm tone makes a flood of longing so sharp it’s almost bitter flood him. He wants her here for a moment—Lily. She’d understand why he feels like throwing something at the wall, why he can’t make his brain stop, why he can’t believe that he’s been told to give up—

No, he realizes suddenly.

And do send my regards to your wife, won’t you?

No. Whatever happens with this fucking case, he wants Lily as far away from Quinn Avery as possible. 

Aurelia’s face is hard to read when his eyes go over to her in the corner, and he can’t describe the feeling that sweeps through him. Resentment is certainly in there.

This wouldn’t have happened with Moody here.

Moody’s in the hospital, his brain reminds him, hissing low. He could never wake up. And you’re going to let it all go, because you’re such a good Auror, aren’t you?

His jaw hurts opening. “Alright,” James says and steps back. His words are stiff. “I will.”

~

*some redacted scenes of dangerous intrigues later*

LILY

She’s smiling, but it fades when she gets a good look at him. Her brow pulls tight. “Are you alright?”

James starts a little, then he’s shaking his head with a sigh. “Fine,” he says and continues to look at her. His eyes are shadowed by his specs. “How was your day?”

“Long,” Lily says with a sigh of her own. She leans back against the kitchen counter. Worry continues to prickle, but he seems normal enough. “You?”

“Same,” James murmurs, then he’s suddenly in motion, striding across the sitting room.

Lily catches his body against hers, barely has time for a half-laugh of unsurprised surprise before he’s kissing her. His hands slip beneath her robes, find the loops of her jeans and tug.

“James—“ It’s half-gasped, then fades into a sigh when his mouth—hot, familiar, mind-melting—moves against hers. His lips trail over her jaw, down the side of her neck. Lily’s head spins, and only the counter behind her and James’s body pressed on her front keep her standing.

His hand slips along her hip. Fingers play with the zip of her jeans.

Oh, Merlin, she thinks or maybe she says it aloud, addled. Her hands have somehow made it to the nape of his neck, and she tugs at his hair gently to make his mouth return to hers.

James makes a noise, an odd intensity to his ensuing kiss. He seems to be trying to get her as close to him as possible, his other hand gripping at her lower back, his leg between hers, and he doesn’t show any inclination for patience or teasing—the zip of her jeans is tugged down, his fingers slipping into her knickers…

Lily’s back arches, a strangled moan escaping. She breaks their kiss, head falling back. Her cheeks flush, flush right down her exposed neck, and the lights of the kitchen sparkle in her vision.

She lets herself get lost in the sensation without a thought—the tension winding tighter in her stomach, the sparks and shudders with the circles of his thumb on her clit, the warmth of him in front of her.

“James—“ She gasps his name, lifts her head again to focus on him with hazy eyes, but then she’s thrown.

Because he’s looking at her, as he often does while he touches her, but he looks…he looks like James. Wild hair, hazel eyes, a jaw tight with the weight of other people’s burdens. His eyes are different tonight, though. The color is darkened by shadows, and by a mix of longing and intensity and—

He sees her looking and he inhales, something flashing on his face, but doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers. He leans in, kisses her softly.

Lily’s fingers trail from his shoulder to his cheek. She lingers there, some unknown emotion rising.

Are you okay? she wants to ask again. By now she’s certain he isn’t, but she’s equally certain he won’t tell her if she presses him. She might not recognize the look in his eyes, but she’s become a scholar in the study of James Potter over the years. Just as surely as she’s learned to love him, she’s learned to know him too.

So she kisses him back, lets her mouth break away after a second to gasp out his name, a hot swear. Her fingers cupping his cheek fall to his shoulder, grip tight when her orgasm washes over her a moment later.

James murmurs things into her hair as she catches her breath. The warm lights of the sitting room glitter softly around them. Lily’s face is hot, and she presses it to his chest. Her heart is pounding loudly enough to eclipse the sound of his, but she remains there nonetheless.

Okay, she thinks. Okay. We can do this, too.

It’s a slightly nonsensical thought, but it soothes the pinch in her chest that wants to demand James crack himself open and spill his every secret to her. 

“I love you,” she whispers instead. Her cheek rests on his chest. It’s one the nights where the words come easier than usual, where she doesn’t stumble over them as much. She doesn’t know why she asks, when she knows the answer. “And...you love me.”

James is silent for a moment, then he exhales, low and slow, and his chin presses to the top of her head. His fingers sweep down her back, warm. “I do,” he says quietly. “Forever.”

There’s another pinch, in the recently forgotten corner of her mind where her anxiety dwells. Forever. What is forever? Does forever have a ticking clock, a pair of lovers with cracks in their souls?

Does forever end, is what she wants to know, but James’s odd mood is enough upset for tonight, so she forces her mind blank. “Okay,” Lily says, voice muffled by his shirt. “You better have brought back dinner.”

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

missing tftdcc jily a lot today.....

i'm missing them too!! ❤️

since life is insane and it'll probably be a little bit until June, here's a lengthy (and with hints of plotty spoilers for people with eagle eyes 👀. things are going to heat up over the summer for jily & co.) snippet from ch 8!

“I hate you,” she weeps.

Something breaks in him. “Lily…”

His voice is raspy, and he ignores the burning pain in his chest, straining to sit up. He only gets a few inches before he has to stop, panting.

The shattered look in Lily’s eyes get worse and she inhales. “Don’t move,” she says. “Please…don’t.”

James ignores her. The burning has spread down his ribs, into his gut, and he feels ill and shaky, like someone is yanking at his skin. “You don’t hate me.”

“Of course I don’t,” she cries loudly and wraps shaking arms around herself, grip tight. “I could never hate you, because I love you so much, but I hate that you—that you—what would happen if you—“ she goes silent, voice cut off so sharply there’s nothing left, and her eyes are suddenly overflowing, bright orbs of tears.

Fuck.

James clenches his jaw tight enough to snap and shoves himself upright. He groans, head spinning and eyes briefly going dark. Lily’s instantly moving, pushing him down as she breathes in and out shakily, still crying—

He doesn’t let her push him back to the pillow and catches one of her hands in his own unsteady one. He’s never felt this out of control of his own extremities, but it doesn’t matter. “Lily,” he says roughly. “I’m not going to die. Not for a very long time. I won’t leave you.”

Lily exhales, wet and shuddery, and looks at him, perched on the edge of his hospital bed. “You don’t know that,” she whispers. “Your job is dangerous.”

“I’m good at it,” James says. His heart is thudding and he feels like he might be sick, and he’s not even sure if he believes what he’s saying—but he won’t show that to her. Not when she’s clearly afraid. His thumb shakes, but he brushes it over the back of her hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen to me, I promise.”

Lily stares at him, mouth trembling, and for a second he’s sure she’s going to yell some more—he’s not sure if he can take it right now, as terrible as he feels physically, but he’s bracing himself nonetheless when her face collapses and she falls forward, half into him and half into the headboard, and she cries.

~

His father once called him a do-gooder to a fault. “You’ll carry the world until your back breaks so no one else will have to bear its weight,” he sighed, and fourteen-year old James just scoffed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, stubborn as a mule. A cut from a werewolf stinging on his lip and stolen potion ingredients in his pocket. A Mandrake leaf, the third time already, waiting to be placed on his tongue. 

Fleamont looked at him, then he huffed a laugh filled with weariness—and maybe, James was sure he wasn’t imagining it, a little bit of pride. “Sure you don’t,” he said. “Stay alive to put that head of yours to work out in the real world, son. I pity what will come to those who stand against you or the people you care about.”

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

For the word game: touch?

hi beloved! ❤️ 🥰

She gathers all the air in her lungs. Her hands are empty, dripping water, aching for touch, for cold, to be okay— “James?” It’s too quiet.

It’s just a soft, quiet whisper. 

Her eyes squeeze shut, chest straining shallower, shallower—

“Lily?” His voice, muffled on the other side of the door. “Are you in the shower?”

Send me a word and I'll tell you if it's in a future TFTDC chapter!

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

the opening scene of TFTDC 6, since it’s been a bit since March came out! 🥰 rest of the chapter soon. (warning for references to nsfw ✨activities✨)

__________________

LILY

__________________

The first few days are bliss.

In the way of things, both she and James carry on with their individual lives. They work—both together and apart—he probably goes to the shops to refill the fridge every now and then, and the end of March turns to April, to soft grey rains and delicate petals weighed down by droplets, to James a year older, to her just the same.

It’s all quite mundane and the same…

But when the day ends, when James leaves the Auror Office and Lily leaves St. Bart’s, they both return to the house in Kensington, and something magical, secret and utterly familiar begins.

Lily’s cheek is pressed against the sheets of James’s bed. Her skin is still flushed and hot, and the coolness feels pleasant in contrast. The sheets are probably high thread count, ridiculously expensive. The thought sends a pulse of fondness through her.

His fingers brush down her back and she inhales softly. “What’re you thinking?” James asks and she twists her head to look at him, lying just a few inches away from her. Their hips are almost touching, but the little bit of space feels somehow necessary after the hour they’ve just spent tangled up together, like she might burn up into flames if she’s against him for too long, though she longs for it still. Their heads are at the foot of the bed as they sprawl out on top of the sheets, blankets tossed onto the ground in a pile and—they definitely didn’t start there.

“That you’ve got nice sheets,” Lily says and smiles at him. There’s only one lamp on in his room, and it’s fully dark outside—he got back around eight and it’s been at least an hour since then—so the dimness just glints and catches in the shade of his eyes.

James laughs, the sound as soft and quiet as their voices have been since the moaning subsided a bit ago. “They’re alright,” he agrees and props his head on his elbow. He looks utterly gorgeous and tempting like that, body sprawled in a tapestry of tan skin and muscle on the crisp white sheets.

Lily resists the surge of longing—so bright and deep, despite his closeness, that its almost painful—for a second, then she suddenly remembers that she doesn’t have to resist anymore. She doesn’t have to because…come home with me.

Lily, love, come home.

She shifts onto her back, cool air brushing down her bare front, and reaches out, fingers tracing down his shoulder, his arm. His skin is warm, and she can feel the tension contained in the muscle beneath. Her palm settles flat over his heart.

James exhales slowly, shoulders dropping. His eyes flutter closed for a second.

Lily’s fingers curl over his skin and she watches the motion for a second. Her hand looks small compared to the expanse of him—not just in size, but the way his chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the steadiness of him. She wants to push herself up against him, bury her head in his shoulder and let him hold her until the years go by, until they’re both older and wiser and this house has become more familiar than her own soul.

She doesn’t, though.

It’s just been a few days, she reminds herself. Just because you came back doesn’t mean…well, it doesn’t mean we can even make this work. Permanently.

Lily lets her hand fall back down to the bed and she sighs. She lets out a little laugh. “My legs still don’t feel like they’re working,” she says. “That’s your fault.”

James’s eyes are still closed, meaning he hasn’t seen the emotions that she’s sure were passing over her face while she touched him, though he’d certainly felt her hand, but his lips curve into a smirk. “Yeah, it is,” he says. “I should fuck you from behind more often. You seem to like it, based on the way you came.”

Lily laughs again, this time more genuine, and revels in the new flush stealing across her cheeks. How James can make such filth sound sweet…

Or maybe all of this is sweet. Maybe the filth and the softness of the evening, the intimacy of his bedroom combine to make something that’s…something that she’d dreamed of once, seventeen and hopelessly besotted with James Potter.

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Hiii how are you? the past days have been horrible for me so I'm here asking if I can have a little snippet of TFTDC to brighten up my day ❤

aw, i'm so sorry they've been rough! i hope things get immeasurably brighter soon, lovely ❤️ (and that this helps a little bit!) xx

“Hey,” she says softly, stopping a bit away from the desk.

James looks up from his papers, blinking. “Hey,” he says and smiles. He tosses his quill down and leans back in his chair, stretching with a soft groan. She looks at his hands. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Lily says. His fingers are resting on the edges of the desk now, tapping a bit. She follows the line of them up to his hand, his wrist unveiled by the lazily unbuttoned cuffs of his sleeve. “It’s…late.”

Suddenly, the tiredness and drooping eyes that had motivated her to wander in seems utterly stupid and like the most obvious excuse in the world, but James doesn’t blink, just glances at his watch and swears.

“Shit, it is,” he says and lifts a hand to his hair with a tight exhale. “I lost track of time with these papers…”

Lily shifts, heart suddenly pounding. “Yeah,” she says and clears her throat. “I need to go by the Ministry early tomorrow morning to make some changes to the potion…”

James nods, then he sighs. “I’ve got another hour or two of work to do down here,” he says with a wince. She can see the exhaustion in his own form, from those unbuttoned cuffs to the mess of his hair and the crooked slant of his specs. “You go to bed, I’ll be up in a bit.”

Lily inhales slightly. “Oh,” she says and—she’s not sure exactly what about this feels weird, until she realizes that they’ve never actually…said goodnight to each other since they started sleeping in the same bed. To try to alleviate this weird tension that she’s sure only she feels, since he looks totally normal, Lily steps forward and leans in to kiss him across the desk. 

James’s hand comes up and cups her chin, holding her to him for a second. She smiles when she pulls away, looking down at his half-closed eyes and parted lips. “Night,” she whispers.

“Night,” James echoes and his thumb brushes across her lip before dropping back down to the desk. He looks disappointed for a second as she steps away, like he’s also wishing she’d buried her head in his shoulder and stayed for a while. “Sleep well, Lil.”

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

Hi Ange! :) If you're so inclined to do a snippet game- "breath"!

hi bestie! 🥰

this is from an...interesting scene 👀

“Fuck,” Roger breathes.

Lily feels slightly ill. She wishes James were here to...she doesn’t even know.

Send me a word and I'll tell you if it's in a future TFTDC chapter!

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

UGH THIS HAS GOTTEN ME SO EXCITED FOR THE UPDATE

Is there ANY chance you can update before the 26th because 10 days seems so far away

no pressure though, happy to wait for our favourite idiots

i must ask if u can provide us with a snippet though

ah, sadly no chance at all! I've got a big dissertation to finish before i can get started in earnest on ch 6, but i should be able to make May 26!

a saucy snippet below 😌 (probably last one before the chapter, because there isn't much more I can extract without big spoilers!)

James’s hands slip up her back, tracing the dip above her arse, tangling in the ends of her hair. “I thought about you,” he says and he lowers his head, mouth pressing to her neck. He bites gently, then traces his tongue over the mark and Lily stops breathing altogether. “A lot.”

“A lot?” Her own voice is starting to become strained now and she slips her hands around his shoulders, gripping the back of his neck. Her head falls to the side, allowing James to continue his slow, sensual trail of kisses. 

“Yeah,” James says, voice rough and his hand slides all the way up her back, curves around her throat to cradle her jaw. He tilts her head towards him, then kisses her. Long, slow, tongue and heat. “Always.”