#sorry james

I don’t know if they know this but Lars mogged and gagged ALL OF THEM in this photo

the slytherins walking behind regulus. dorcas and pandora each holding barty’s hand to keep him back.

evan’s instigating heavyyy; poor regulus hasn’t eaten all day, james. what are you gonna do about that?

but nobody warns him about the puddle he’s about to fall into

so last post got me thinking.

1. Matthew Fairchild

2. Thomas Lightwood

3. Christopher Lightwood

Warnings: none explicitly but small spaces are implied (“reader” likes them though); “not canon James” but be fr there is no canon for Marauders; we do whatever the bloody hell we want with them :D

A/N: fluffffffff aaaaaa; I swear fluff and sarcasm flow out of my veins and into every story I write

You have a bed that lays about a foot -give or take- off the ground. Not quite lofted, but enough that you can crawl underneath and lay there without being squished. Sometimes you like to go under there and just lay there, usually in silence, sometimes you would read or draw or write. It was like a little hideaway spot from the rest of the world. You felt enclosed, but not trapped. It felt safe. Sometimes you even fell asleep there, which to your significant other, made no sense. Speaking of your significant other and your safe space, it was them who found you in that spot when you had dozed off from the rest of the world.

“Love? Lovey are you in here?”

You roused from your sleep, still a bit dazed.

“James?” You began to say something else but were interrupted by your own voice. “Ow!”

“Darlin’?” James began, searching and confusion juxtaposed in his voice. He knelt onto to the ground to look under the bed where he found you. “What are you doing under your bed?”

“Forming a bump on my head, apparently.” You say regretfully, having hit your head when you woke up. You had tried to sit up in search of James, forgetting -in your dozy state- that you were under the bed still.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smile lopsidedly. “Besides, I’ve had worse.” The two of you share a smile and James sighs out a laugh. He crawls under the bed to join you and lays beside you. When his face gets close enough to yours, he cups your cheek and kisses you softly.

“You do know that typically people sleep ON the bed right? Like, on top of it?” He questions jokingly.

“Well I’m not typical,” you reply in a non-serious voice. “And besides, I don’t always like to be on top,” you smirk.

“Oh, I know,” James smirks back, smutty acknowledgement of your lewd insinuation trickling through his tone. He giggles, making you giggle as well, and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Sometimes I just lay under here. To decompress or relax, and kind of just hide away from it all. It’s nice in a way. Like my own little corner of the world,” you tell James in response to his previous inquiry. He smiles at you and asks softly,

“Can I stay?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “yeah you can stay. I think I’d like that.”

He pulls you close to his chest and holds you, adding a feeling of warmth to your little corner of the world.

“Don’t worry darlin’, I’ll always ask before entering. We all need our own private little corner of the world sometimes. And I’m glad you’re willing to let me join yours sometimes.”

“I love you, Jamie,” you say into his chest, and he can tell you really mean it.

“And I love you sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and the two of you relax in your loving silence. You and your boyfriend, in your own little corner of the world.