ikkyfics

[ikkyfics]

The Proposal

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You looked up, noticing his fixed and enchanted gaze, and raised an eyebrow with an amused smile. “What’s up? Scared of the cake, Potter?” He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Just... you’re too beautiful.”

Warnings: none

A/N: yes, @meelusinee you convinced me to write this

Part 8 of Marry Me

Masterlist

James Potter was a walking disaster.

In his living room, he paced back and forth, his right hand making his already messy hair even more disheveled, while his left held a small blue velvet box with a tight grip. His footsteps echoed on the floor, a stark contrast to the carefree laughter coming from the sofa. Sirius, sprawled out as though he had no care in the world, watched his friend’s frantic movements with eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Prongs, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep this up,” Sirius remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Seriously, why are you so nervous? She’s been with you for years. It’s not like it’s a big surprise.”

James stopped abruptly, spinning on his heels to face Sirius. “Not a surprise? Not a surprise?! Sirius, I’m about to ask the woman of my life to marry me! What if she says no?”

Sirius burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room, so characteristic that Remus, sitting beside him, rolled his eyes with a smile. “She’s gonna say no? Oh, Prongs, get real. The only thing she’s probably wondering is why you didn’t ask her sooner.”

James huffed, clearly annoyed by his friend's lack of seriousness. “You’re not helping!”

“Maybe because you don’t need help,” Remus replied calmly as always. He extended his hand to Sirius, who took it reflexively, a gesture so natural between them that James didn’t even notice. “James, she loves you. That’s enough. But, of course, you could try looking a little less… desperate.”

James shot a pleading look at Peter, who was sitting on the floor, watching the interaction with a hesitant smile. “Wormtail, at least you’ll support me, right?”

Peter scratched his head, clearly uncomfortable. “Well, uh… I think they have a point, James. You’re kind of… hysterical.”

“HYSTERICAL?” James exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I’m being rational! I’m preparing for one of the most important moments of my life, and you guys are here laughing at me!”

“Only because it’s adorable,” Sirius said, winking exaggeratedly at James.

Remus sighed, standing up from the sofa and walking over to James. He placed his hands on his friend’s shoulders and looked at him seriously. “Alright, James. Let’s sort this out. First, do you have the ring?”

“Of course I have the ring!” James replied immediately, pulling the small box from his jacket pocket and opening it to show.

“Great,” Remus said, nodding. “Now, the clothes.” He took a step back, examining James from head to toe. “Sirius, do you think he looks presentable?”

Sirius stood up, striking an exaggerated fashion critic pose, hand on chin, with a theatrical look. “Hmm… The tie is in place, the hair is… well, as good as his hair can get. But something’s missing.” He flashed a mischievous smile and pulled a small spray from his pocket. “Fresh breath, Prongs. We’re not taking any chances.”

James rolled his eyes but obediently opened his mouth as Sirius sprayed. “Happy now?”

“Almost,” Sirius replied, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders. “But you could be a little less James. Maybe more charming.”

“That’s impossible,” Peter commented, glancing at the clock. “Guys, he needs to go. It’s almost time.”

“Alright,” Remus said, giving James a pat on the shoulder. “Breathe. Relax. You’ve got this.”

James looked at his friends, his heart racing but feeling a comforting warmth in their presence. “Thanks, guys. Really.”

Sirius winked again. “That’s what we’re here for, Prongs. Now go out there and crush it. And don’t forget to breathe.”

With the ring in his pocket and a nervous smile, James finally left the room, ready for the most important moment of his life. And, Merlin, he hoped he was up to it. Without daring to think any further, he left.

The heart in his chest seemed to leap when he appeared outside a small flower shop, softly illuminated by gentle lights. It was a simple place, but full of charm, the scent of flowers filling the air. He knew exactly what he was looking for: a bouquet of her favorite flowers, something that reflected everything she meant to him. The attendant, noticing the anxious expression on his face, quickly put together a delicate and perfect arrangement. The vibrant colors and the soft fragrance seemed to say more than any words ever could.

When James left the shop, the nervousness still clung to him, but the bouquet firmly in his hands was a reminder of why he was doing all of this. He took a deep breath before focusing on the next stop: her front door.

The world seemed to slow down when he knocked on the door. Each second between the sound of his knuckles hitting the wood and the echoing footsteps from the other side felt like an eternity. But then, the door opened, and there you were, and James felt the ground disappear beneath his feet.

You were absolutely radiant, and he needed a moment to remember how to breathe. The dress you wore seemed made for you, hugging your body in a way that left him speechless. Your hair fell in soft waves, and the night’s light seemed to play with the strands, illuminating them as if they were made of stardust. Your eyes met his, shining with genuine joy, and the smile you opened was enough to make James’s nervousness melt away like ice in the sun.

He gave a crooked smile, the one that was so characteristically his, and extended the bouquet toward you. “For you,” he said, his voice rougher than he expected.

Your smile widened as you delicately accepted the bouquet, holding it as if it were something precious. You brought the flowers to your nose, inhaling the scent with a graceful gesture, and James thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

“You know how to win me over, Potter,” you teased, your voice full of affection that made his chest warm.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile now more daring. “I think I deserve a kiss for that, don’t you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “So modest.”

Before you could continue, James stepped forward, pulling you gently closer. The bouquet was carefully set aside because, at that moment, the only thing that mattered to him was you. His lips found yours with a sweet urgency, as if he had been saving that kiss for hours — and maybe he had.

The world around them faded away. It was just you and him, the heat of your bodies close, the touch of your hands on his face, his fingertips caressing your back. The kiss was slow, but intense, a mixture of passion and tenderness that made both their hearts beat faster.

You sighed against his lips, a soft laugh escaping as you tried, without much conviction, to pull away. “James, the flowers,” you said, your voice breathless.

He opened his eyes, the mischievous glint returning. “I can buy more,” he murmured before kissing you again, and you gave in, laughing between the kisses.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, faces flushed, eyes sparkling. You gently touched his face, wiping the traces of your lipstick that now stained his lips. “You’re a mess,” you commented, but there was so much affection in your voice that he simply smiled.

“Messy, but beautiful?” he teased, tilting his head.

“Beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you replied before picking up the bouquet again. “I’m going to put this in the vase before we head out, okay?”

James watched as you walked away, the bouquet firmly in your hands. He let out a sigh, smiling to himself. How had he gotten so lucky to have you in his life?

The restaurant he took you to was small, with dim lighting and candles scattered across the tables, creating an intimate and cozy atmosphere. The walls were decorated with old paintings and dried flowers, and the soft sound of a piano played in the background, as if the night had been made just for them. James held your hand across the table, his thumb lazily tracing circles on your skin, as if he needed the contact to remind himself you were there.

“Did you like it here?” he asked, his voice light, but his eyes watching every small change in your expression.

“Like it? James, this is perfect,” you replied, smiling in a way that made his heart race. “It’s so... peaceful. It feels like it’s just the two of us.”

He gave a small, shy smile, the kind that was almost bashful, but with a touch of satisfaction. “That was the plan.”

You spent the dinner talking, laughing, and sharing stories. He seemed more relaxed than he had hours ago, as though your company was the cure for any nervousness he might have felt. Every now and then, he’d make silly comments that would make you laugh, the sound easily becoming his favorite music of the night.

When dessert arrived — a small chocolate cake with berries — James made no move to touch it. He was simply... looking at you.

You looked up, noticing his fixed and enchanted gaze, and raised an eyebrow with an amused smile. “What’s up? Scared of the cake, Potter?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Just... you’re too beautiful.”

Your smile faltered for a second, and you felt your cheeks warm. "You don't exist," you murmured, looking away at the plate, but James didn’t let you escape that easily.

He gently squeezed your hand, bringing your attention back to him. "I'm serious," he said, his voice lower now, filled with more emotion. "Every time I look at you, I think about how lucky I am to have found you. How lucky I am that you chose me."

"James..." you started, but he shook his head, interrupting you.

"I need to say this," he said, nervously laughing, but his gaze was fixed on yours, shining with something that made your heart race. "Since you came into my life, everything has changed. I never thought anyone could make me feel like this, you know? Like everything makes sense, like I've found my place in the world. And that place... is by your side."

You stayed silent, your eyes starting to well up as his smile grew wider.

"I don't want to imagine my life without you anymore," he continued, his voice growing firmer as he took a deep breath. "And I know I'm a mess, but I'm a mess that's in love with you. So..."

He slowly stood up, pulling the small velvet box from his pocket as his eyes never left yours. He knelt beside the table, his hand trembling slightly as he opened the box, revealing the ring he had chosen with so much care.

"Will you marry me?"

You blinked, a single tear running down your cheek as a huge smile took over your face. "James..."

He kept his eyes fixed on yours, his breathing slightly faster, as if he was holding himself together to keep from falling apart. The small distance between you seemed insignificant, and at the same time, every second felt eternal as he waited for your answer.

"Are you sure you want this?" you asked, your voice faltering as a knot of emotion formed in your throat. It wasn’t doubt — it was love, pure and overwhelming, spilling out in words.

His smile faltered for a moment, but only to give way to something even more genuine. He chuckled softly, the hand that wasn’t holding the velvet box gently reaching up to touch your face, his fingers gliding over your skin as if you were something too precious to rush. "I’ve been sure since the first day I saw you. Even before I understood what love was, I knew it was you."

Your tears fell freely now, but there was no sadness in them — only the overwhelming joy of hearing those words, of feeling his devotion in every syllable. You nodded, the smile trembling on your lips. "Yes, James," you whispered, then repeated louder, more confidently, so he would never doubt it. "Yes, I will marry you."

His eyes closed for a moment, as if absorbing the moment, engraving it into his soul. When he opened them again, there were tears there too, shining like a silent confession that he was completely, irreparably in love with you.

He took your hand with all the care in the world, as if he feared breaking something so precious. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice faltering as he slid the ring onto your finger. The gesture was slow, almost ritualistic, and when the ring finally settled into place, he leaned down to kiss your hand. His lips touched your skin with such reverence that you felt the warmth spread through your chest, the simple act, yet full of emotion, as if he were silently swearing that he would never stop loving you.

"Thank you?" you repeated, a soft laugh escaping as you wiped away the tears that kept falling.

"Yes," he replied, his tone husky and still full of emotion. "For saying yes. For existing. For being mine."

"James..." you began, but he shook his head with a small smile, leaning in a little more, so close that you could feel his warmth, the intensity in his blue eyes, which were even brighter with tears.

"No, let me finish," he asked, his voice softening. "I’m not perfect. You know that better than anyone. I’m messy, a little impulsive, and sometimes I’ll say or do something stupid. But with you..." He took a deep breath, still holding your hand. "With you, I want to be the best I can. Not because you demand it of me, but because you make me want to be better. You make me believe I can be."

You didn’t answer right away, because any word seemed too small for what you were feeling. So, you did what seemed most right: you leaned in toward him, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both sweet and intense, a silent promise that you loved him as much as he loved you.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads still touching, you whispered, a smile playing on your lips. "You’re already everything to me, James. You don’t need to change anything."

He laughed, the sound muffled as he placed his lips on your hand again, still holding it tightly. "If I’m everything to you," he murmured, his voice full of emotion and a touch of humor, "then I’m already the luckiest man in the world."

You laughed, shaking your head as you looked at him with eyes shining with love. "And I’m the luckiest woman."

"Then we’re even," he joked, finally standing up and pulling you back into a tight embrace, as if he couldn’t stand the distance anymore.

In that moment, the whole world disappeared. It was just you and James, and the certainty that this was only the beginning of something even more beautiful.

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy

[ikkyfics]

Pleaseee Vampire James x pregnant reader?? A surprise dhampir babyyy

Just Mine

Vampire!James x pregnant!reader

Summary: “Did you know I never imagined anything could be more beautiful than you?” he murmured, his blue eyes shining like sapphires in the silver light. “But here you are. You… carrying what we created together. A piece of me, inside you.” The reverence in his voice was almost devastating, each word laden with an intensity that seemed to heat even the air around them.

Warnings: blood (nothing serious) - a possessive James

A/N: anon, hope you like it <333 - have I mentioned how much I love vampires?

Masterlist

The night seemed more alive to James, as if every shadow danced in celebration of the miracle you carried. The silver light of the moon entered through the window, bathing the scene in an ethereal, almost supernatural glow. He was there, lying beside you, one of his large, cold hands resting on your rounded belly. His long fingers moved gently, tracing slow circles over the fabric of your thin nightgown, as if engraving in his memory every curve that your pregnancy had shaped.

“You look beautiful like this, you know?” he murmured, his voice low and husky, carrying that tone that always made your skin tingle. His blue eyes shone intensely, fixed on you with a reverence that made your heart race. “So full of me... our life growing inside you.” He smiled, his white teeth standing out as his sharp fangs showed, a sensual and dangerous reminder of what he was.

“James,” you whispered, your voice slightly breaking with emotion. Your hand covered his over your belly, your fingers warming the cold skin that seemed to bring an inexplicable comfort. “You always say that. You always make me feel like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.”

“Because you are.” He leaned in, his black, rebellious hair falling forward as his lips found your belly, leaving a cold kiss there. His eyes lifted to meet yours again, the vibrant blue contrasting with the darkness of the room. “You and him... you’re everything. Every day that passes, I only become more certain of that.”

You laughed softly, the sound low and cozy, as your fingers slid to touch his face, tracing the perfect contour of his jaw. “And who takes care of you, James? I don’t want you to forget that... you’re mine too, you know?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if absorbing your words. When he opened them again, there was something even more intense there, something almost devastating in his devotion. “I’m yours. In every sense, forever. But taking care of you is what keeps me alive. Knowing you’re safe... knowing I can give you everything. That’s enough for me.”

He moved closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “You understand, don’t you? What you mean to me? My light in the darkness... my whole world. If I could, I would keep you here forever, where no one can touch you, where I know you’re protected.”

“I know, James,” you replied, your eyes filling with tears that he quickly wiped away with the tips of his fingers, gently. “And I trust you. With everything I am.”

There was something in the scent you now carried that drove him mad—something warm, sweet, full of promises and love. He often pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply, as if each breath were vital to him. And there was always that satisfied, possessive smile. “You have no idea how irresistible you are... how it feels knowing you belong to me, in every sense.”

“James,” you called him again, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “I’ll never belong to anyone but you. Not even before all this... before us. You know that, don’t you?”

He chuckled softly, his expression overflowing with pride and a joy that seemed impossible for someone like him, a creature made of darkness. “I know. And I swear I’ll spend every moment of our eternity reminding you of that.”

With that, he pulled you closer, enveloping you in an embrace that was both protective and intimate, while his hands gently caressed your belly once more. “Our son. My blood. Our eternity,” he whispered, and there was a promise in his voice that seemed to echo forever into the vastness of the night.

“Did you know I never imagined anything could be more beautiful than you?” he murmured, his blue eyes shining like sapphires in the silver light. “But here you are. You… carrying what we created together. A piece of me, inside you.” The reverence in his voice was almost devastating, each word laden with an intensity that seemed to heat even the air around them.

You smiled at him, your hand covering his. “It’s the most precious piece. I never thought I could feel so complete, James.” Your voice was soft but firm, full of sincerity.

He tilted his head, the smile taking on a more predatory edge, though still filled with tenderness. “And that’s exactly why you need to take care of yourself. You need to be strong. For you. For him.” The way he looked at you—as if you were all that existed in the world—made your heart leap.

Before you could respond, he gently pulled you closer, positioning you in his lap with an ease that betrayed his supernatural strength. His cold fingers caressed your face as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on yours. "It's time for you to feed." He didn't phrase it as a question, but rather as a statement, as if he already knew your body craved what only he could provide.

Your heart raced, not out of fear, but because of the familiar and inexplicable excitement these moments always brought. You didn't hesitate — you never did. Instead, you watched with palpable hunger as he raised his own wrist, the pale skin highlighting the veins. With a precise movement, he made a small cut, dark blood beginning to surface. The scent reached you almost instantly, rich, seductive, impossible to ignore.

You carefully held his wrist, but the urgency in your touch did not go unnoticed. He watched every movement, his blue eyes locked on you, glowing with something bordering on fascination. When your lips closed around the cut, he let out a low sigh, satisfied.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and laden with a tone that made your skin tingle. His fingers moved to the base of your neck, his touch almost possessive as he kept you close. "That's it... that's right. You need this. You need me."

You couldn't deny it. You didn’t want to. The taste was indescribable, a mixture of need and pleasure, and the way he watched you only made the moment more intense. He encouraged you, whispering soft and seductive words, his hand now sliding to your back as he pulled you even closer.

"You're perfect like this, you know? So hungry for me... as it should be," he whispered against your hair, his voice deep and filled with an almost palpable satisfaction. The other cold, firm hand moved up to caress your belly again, his long fingers tracing slow, reverent circles on the stretched skin. "Everything about you is mine. It always has been." The low timbre of his words vibrated in the air, as possessive as it was passionate.

He tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes burning into you like two cold flames. Your heart, already racing from the intensity of the moment, beat even faster, and he could hear every pulse with supernatural clarity, like a song composed just for him. "I can hear it," he murmured, a smile forming on his lips, revealing the tip of his fangs. "Your heart. So fast. It's beating for me, isn't it?"

You couldn't answer, but the way your fingers tightened slightly around his wrist was enough. He laughed, a low sound, almost a purr, that seemed to reverberate through your body. "Ah, my sweet girl. So dependent on me... and I love it." The words came out laced with pride, but there was something deeper there — a fierce desire to protect you, to keep you always within his reach.

As you drank, he adjusted his position, pulling you even closer to his body. The way he held you was a perfect contrast between strength and care. His fingers, cold but comforting, slid down your back in slow caresses, while his other hand remained on your belly, as if needing to feel the life growing there to believe it was real. "My child," he murmured almost to himself, a glimmer of adoration in his eyes. "My blood. Our blood. You're giving me the greatest gift anyone could."

Minutes passed, but he showed no rush to stop. Every sound you made — the soft sigh, the way you adjusted against him — seemed to fascinate him even more. He tilted his head, his lips brushing your temple lightly as he whispered, "That's it, love. Take as much as you need. You know I would never deny you anything."

Finally, when he realized you had fed enough, he gently pulled his wrist away, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "That's enough for now, my dear. You're strong, but you need balance," he said, his voice sounding like a mix of authority and affection.

Before you could protest, he raised his wrist and used his thumb to wipe the remnants of blood from the corner of your mouth. "So beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming your face with an intensity that was almost predatory. "Now... show me." He pressed his stained finger against your lips, a satisfied smile forming as you obeyed without hesitation, licking the traces as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Good girl," he said, the tone laden with pleasure as the smile on his lips widened, revealing his sharp fangs. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, as if he wanted to taste a bit of himself in you. When he pulled away, his eyes were shining with something almost dangerous. "You know I love this, don't you? This power... this submission. It's exactly where you belong."

You could barely find words, but he wasn't expecting any. He pulled you back into his arms, holding you against him as if he wanted the entire world to disappear. "Mine," he murmured, caressing your belly one last time. "My eternity. My perfection." And in that moment, you knew that, for him, nothing existed but you.

[ikkyfics]

I'd like to make a little request...Maybe reader teaching Dave how to ice skate? Like he SUCKS at it and when she's teaching him he slips and instinctively grabs her and they both fall down and he gets really worried and panicked that he accidentally hurt her but she ends up laughing and he laughs too and FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFY FLUFF :D

Ice Skates

Dave Lizewski x reader

Summary: "Want to go ice skating?" "Not a chance," he said with a sleepy laugh. You planted kisses all over his face. First on his cheek, then along his jaw, and finally on the curve of his bottom lip, teasing him enough to draw a smile from him. "You play dirty." "And it works." You smiled.

Warnings: none

A/N: anon, hope you like it <3333

Masterlist

You had invited Dave to spend the weekend at your family’s winter house. It was far from the city, and the snow covered everything like a private paradise—and the best part? There was a frozen lake! It was barely dawn when you sneaked into the room where he had spent the night, walking on tiptoe so your parents wouldn’t wake up. Luckily, you knew where the floorboards creaked and avoided every single one of them.

When you opened the door, you found the dark and silent room, Dave still asleep, lost in the blankets. His chest rising and falling with calm breaths. A smile spread across your face—at moments like this, he seemed even more adorable. With his dark curls falling over his forehead, chapped lips, and so painfully beautiful it should’ve been a sin. Without making a sound, you closed the door and walked over to the single bed, sighing as the warmth enveloped you the moment you crawled under the covers, curling up against his chest.

"Dave?" You whispered, trying to wake him gently.

Dave mumbled something incomprehensible when you called his name, his sleepy voice sounding sweeter than it should. He didn’t even open his eyes, but his arms moved instinctively, pulling you even closer. His face found refuge in the space between your neck and shoulder, his nose brushing against your skin as he let out a long, satisfied sigh.

"Hmm, you’re cold..." He grumbled, his voice muffled against you, wrapping his arms around you like a human blanket.

"And you’re warm." You countered, smiling against the messy curls that touched your forehead. Your fingers, already acting on their own, tangled in his soft hair, lazily stroking the strands.

"If my father finds me like this, he’s gonna kill me," Dave murmured, a playful tone hidden in the roughness of his voice.

You laughed softly, your lips brushing the top of his head. "We won’t let him find out, then."

"Great plan," he replied, his mouth curving against your collarbone. "Just let me sleep a little longer..."

But you had no intention of letting him fall back asleep. Your fingers trailed down to draw lazy circles on his neck, and you tilted your head to whisper in his ear, "There’s a frozen lake outside, Dave."

"Hmm," he murmured, clearly still fighting sleep.

"Want to go ice skating?"

"Not a chance," he said with a sleepy laugh. "I’m terrible at it. I’ll fall flat on my face. You’ll laugh. I’m not risking that kind of humiliation."

"You haven’t even tried and you’re already so pessimistic?" You teased, planting kisses on his face, each one lingering longer than the last, savoring how warm his skin felt under your lips. First on his cheek, then along his jawline, and finally at the curve of his lower lip, teasing him enough to pull a smile from him.

Dave tried to resist, but he gave in, letting out a soft laugh before turning his face to find your lips. The kiss was slow and lazy, just how winter mornings should be. When you pulled away, he sighed. "You play dirty."

"And it works." You smiled, leaning in to kiss him again.

He dramatically huffed before giving in, pulling you against him one last time before finally murmuring, "Fine, but if I break something, it’s your fault."

"You’re the best," you said, your lips finding his in a burst of kisses as thanks, amidst muffled laughter and shared glances.

"Yes, but only because you asked." Dave buried his face in your hair, and for a few moments, you both stayed exactly where you were, tangled in each other under the covers. The warmth between you felt like a perfect shield against the cold that dominated the world outside. His fingertips lazily traced circles on your back while your hand played absently with his curls, twisting them and letting them go. The comfortable silence was broken only by the sound of your synchronized breathing. Neither of you seemed in a hurry to move, as if the universe had paused so you could savor this moment a little longer.

"I still think my father is going to kill me," Dave murmured suddenly, his voice muffled by your hair, making you laugh softly.

"Only if he finds out what we did before we got here," you replied, your face warming at the memory of what you’d done in your room while you should’ve been finishing packing.

After a few more minutes like this, you both finally convinced yourselves to leave the blanket nest. The cold air from the room immediately enveloped you, and you shivered, pressing yourself against him for warmth. Dave laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both made your way downstairs to the kitchen, where the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.

Sitting at the table, you shared a toast with jam and laughed about how he seemed even more clumsy than usual with his cold hands. Every few minutes, Dave would glance nervously at your dad, who was in the corner of the kitchen reading the newspaper but clearly keeping an eye on the two of you. Every time your gazes met, your dad seemed to squint his eyes, sending a silent yet clear message: Be careful with her.

"He really likes me," Dave murmured to you sarcastically as he set his coffee cup down.

You shrugged, holding back a smile. "He just wants to make sure you’re not going to drop me on the ice."

"No pressure, then," he replied, rolling his eyes playfully.

After getting ready, you both headed outside, ready to face the cold. Dave adjusted the scarf around your neck, his fingers careful and almost reverent before intertwining his hand with yours. The path to the frozen lake was absolutely magical, with the ground covered in soft snow and the trees around you adorned with ice crystals. With every step, Dave squeezed your hand as if he needed to make sure you weren’t going anywhere, his smile on his face showing just how happy he was.

"You’re not going to fall, right?" he asked, teasing in his voice.

"I’m amazing at this," you replied, pulling him by the arm to quicken your pace.

"Great at many things, actually," he commented, almost distracted.

"Was that a compliment?"

"That was an observation," he corrected, smiling sideways as his eyes dropped to you.

When you reached the lake, the ice shimmered like glass under the weak sunlight, reflecting the trees around. Dave opened the backpack to grab the skates, and while you sat on a snow-covered log, he knelt down to tie yours.

"I can do this, Dave," you said, but he shook his head.

"No way. If the lace isn’t perfect and you fall, your dad will bury me in the snow," he replied, his tone playful, but his hands focused as he carefully adjusted the laces.

When he finished, Dave leaned up and looked at you, his blue eyes shining against the white backdrop of winter. "All set."

"You didn’t have to do that," you said, but he shrugged, the smile almost embarrassed.

"I like taking care of you," he admitted, his voice quieter as his eyes briefly dropped to your lips. Before you could respond, he leaned in to kiss you, the gesture soft but full of affection, warming your heart.

"Now it’s your turn," you said, smiling as he sat beside you to put on his skates.

When he finished with the laces, you leaned in to steal a kiss on his cheek, the gesture so natural it felt like part of the winter around.

"If I fall," he started, holding your hand to get up, "you promise not to laugh too loud?"

"I promise I’ll save you before I laugh," you replied, squeezing his hand tightly before pulling him toward the lake. The ice gleamed beneath your feet, smooth as glass, and the air around was cold, but fresh, bringing an almost magical energy to the moment. You moved first, gliding with a grace that made Dave let out an involuntary sigh.

He was completely mesmerized. You looked so natural, so free, your hair swaying softly with the movement and your cheeks flushed from the cold. He knew he’d never be able to describe it properly, but in that moment, he was certain of one thing: you were amazing, and he was completely in love with you.

"Are you just going to stand there staring, or are you going to try to catch up?" you teased, a mischievous smile on your face as you spun lightly.

"I’m trying not to fall before I take the first step," Dave replied, nervously laughing as he tried to imitate what you were doing. He slid one foot forward, then the other, but the movement was awkward, and he almost lost his balance before you grabbed him.

"It’s okay," you said, laughing softly. "It’s easier than it looks. Trust me."

He huffed, his eyes full of affection as you pulled him, guiding him with patience. He was stiff at first, his shoulders tense and movements hesitant, but the touch of your hands seemed to ease any insecurity. Slowly, he managed to glide beside you, his steps clumsy but enough to keep up.

"Look at you, you’re doing it!" you exclaimed, pride clear in your voice.

"Of course," he replied, his tone ironic, "it’s easy when you have a girlfriend who looks like a pro."

But then, the inevitable happened. When he tried to take another step, his balance disappeared, and the world around him seemed to spin. He stumbled, pulling you with him, and the two of you fell with a soft thud onto the ice. He took most of the impact, cushioning your fall.

"Are you okay?!" he asked, panic evident in his voice as he checked your face. "I didn’t hurt you, right? Please tell me you’re okay."

You couldn’t help but smile at how worried he was. His expression was a mix of guilt and desperation, his brows furrowed and eyes wide as he waited for your response.

"Dave, calm down," you said, placing a hand on his face to reassure him. "I’m fine, I swear."

"Are you sure?" he insisted, his eyes scanning you as if looking for any sign of pain.

"I’m sure," you replied, laughing softly as you leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. "Actually, that was fun. Falling is part of learning, you know?"

"I’d prefer to learn without knocking you down," he murmured, but the worry began to give way to a shy smile as you laughed.

"You protected me," you said, your voice soft. "And besides, it was a pretty cinematic fall. You actually know how to do a good romantic scene."

"Smartass," he replied, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

You stayed on the ice for a moment, laughter filling the cold air around you. Dave ran a hand through your hair, pushing a strand away from your beanie. "You’re so beautiful," he said, almost without realizing he was speaking aloud.

The unexpected comment made your heart race, and you blushed, but quickly leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was warm and gentle, a perfect contrast to the cold around. When you pulled away, he smiled goofily, just like he always did when he was near you.

"See? Falling wasn’t so bad," you said, caressing his face.

"Maybe not," he admitted, "but I only liked it because you were with me."

You laughed, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. "So, next time you fall, I’ll be here to catch you. Or at least, fall with you."

"Sounds like a good plan," he replied, his blue eyes shining with affection as he stole another kiss.

After a few minutes, you finally got up, with Dave still holding your hand as if he feared the ice might pull another trick. And even with the intense cold around, everything felt so incredibly warm and comfortable. After all, you were together, and that was enough to make any moment perfect.

[ikkyfics]

Hii !! , I hope you had a good day but can you please make a one shot or an headcanon about Dave Lizewski x popular!reader

The Biggest Cliché

Dave Lizewski x reader

Summary: how would Dave act dating the popular girl

Warnings: none

A/N: anon, hope you like it <3333

Masterlist

• Dave always showed up with little surprises, like a comic he thought you’d like, your favorite candy, or even a personalized playlist with songs that reminded him of both of you.

• Dave couldn’t shake the feeling that, at any moment, you’d realize he was just an average nerd and could trade him for someone more “worthy” of you. You always laughed it off, cupping his face with both hands and telling him he was perfect just the way he was.

• He made it a point to memorize your preferences, from the flavor of milkshake you liked best to the show that made you cry. Dave might be awkward, but he was incredibly observant when it came to you.

• Even though he blushed in embarrassment over the photos and captions you posted online, Dave started playing along. He’d send spontaneous selfies (usually awkward ones) just for you to post with the caption “The cutest nerd in the world 🥰.”

• Whenever you dressed up for an event or even just for a casual look, Dave always had the same reaction: wide eyes and an open mouth, followed by a “You look amazing!” He didn’t fake it at all — he was genuinely in awe of you.

• Even being the comic book and video game guy, Dave made sure to dive into the world you loved. If you were into fashion, he’d research designers and learn how to differentiate fabrics. If you liked pop music, he’d add your favorite bands to his playlist and even sing along (off-key).

• Whether it was a school performance, a competition, or any event you were part of, Dave was always in the front row. He cheered so loudly that you couldn’t help but laugh, but you knew he just wanted to support you.

• When you were stressed, Dave always tried to help, even if it was with cheesy lines he’d picked up from movies. Sometimes he’d make jokes to get a smile out of you, and when it worked, he felt like the king of the world.

• Even though he never said it out loud, Dave sometimes caught himself daydreaming about a future with you. He’d think about trips, the apartment you two could share someday, or even the dog you’d adopt together.

• Even though he was the guy who loved nerdy films, Dave made an effort to blend the worlds. He’d take you to nerdy events and say, “With you here, I’m officially the coolest guy in the place.”

• “Did you know you have the most beautiful smile in the world? I’m not joking, it’s like scientifically proven.” He’d drop lines like this out of nowhere, leaving you blushing and enchanted at the same time.

• On a shopping date, he saw a guy who seemed like the “typical popular guy” flirting with you while you worked behind a counter. Dave couldn’t help but feel a little... out of place. Later, when you were alone, he admitted, a bit embarrassed: “You could have anyone, and I... I’m just me.” Your response was to kiss him deeply, murmuring between kisses: “I only want you, Dave. Always you.”

• He’d always try to convince you to watch or read something he loved. If you agreed, he’d get overly excited, explaining everything in minute detail. And when you fell in love with a show or comic he recommended, he’d boast: “I knew you’d like it. I know you better than you know yourself.”

• Dave had a side only you knew. When he felt insecure or needed a little more attention, he’d take the initiative to kiss you more passionately, pulling you close by the waist and leaving you breathless.

• On tough days, Dave didn’t always know what to say, but he was the best at just listening. He’d hold your hand or hug you while you vented, murmuring “It’s going to be okay” while softly stroking your hair.

• When you’d take him to parties or events with your friends, Dave sometimes felt a bit out of place, but he couldn’t stop smiling. Just being by your side made him feel like he was, by far, the luckiest guy in the world.

• Dave loved it when you borrowed one of his t-shirts, especially the ones with movies or comics on them. Every time he saw you wearing one, he’d smile, completely torn between wanting to just admire you or rip the shirt off your body and love you until you were nothing but a tangled mess of sweet moans.

• Dave made it a point to remind you how much he loved you. From stolen kisses to text messages saying things like, “You know you’re the best part of my day, right?”

[ikkyfics]

thanks for the tag @bohnerrific69 💖💖

tags 🌸 @gingerteafairy @ladydeath08 @lilyypotter1234 @meelusinees @jamespottergf (no pressure, loves <3) + anyone else

what colors is your aura? 💌

click here to find out!

why is this so specific?

tags⭐: @mistysconcilium @sororygilmore @ssparksflyy @dearlizzies @bohnerrific69 @temporarywelcome @iloveyapping @oceanblvdbabe @oceanblvd111 @auntiejohn @gingerteafairy @hhtpsjennaaa @lacucarachapisser @lostreverb @libbybuxbaum @zmbiesvape @evansroses @daystarpoet + anyone who wants to participate feel free too <3

[ikkyfics]

I just lived a love of stolen glances - pretty boy, wish I had asked your name

[ikkyfics]

Thanks for the tag @lilyypotter1234 💖

npt 🏷️: @gingerteafairy @bohnerrific69 @ladydeath08 @meelusinees @jamespottergf and anyone else <333

Thanks for the tag @elizabeth-dicewielder 💚 I got a green drink yay XD

Here's the quiz, it's definitely cozy!

Tagging @fernifox @hellnohenry @marlenemckinn @blitheringmcgonagall

[ikkyfics]

Distraction

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: But most of all, you wanted him to know. You wanted to tell him how important he was, how he was more than just a friend to you, even if that meant risking everything. And yet, you couldn’t. Not when he seemed so calm, so oblivious to any feelings you might be silently holding.

Warnings: a little jealousy

Masterlist

The Hogwarts library seemed almost magical at that time of afternoon. Not that it wasn’t magical in itself, but it was in moments like these – when the silence seemed absolute, interrupted only by the rustling of pages and the soft scratch of quills on parchment – that you felt the space had a special charm. The imposing shelves, filled with old books, gave off a sense of vastness and tranquility that you had always adored. It was the perfect place to escape the bustle of the Common Room and lose yourself in your studies.

With your bag hanging from your shoulder, you looked around, trying to decide where to sit. Your gaze landed on a table in the center of the library, where a very familiar figure sat. Remus Lupin. Your heart gave a little jump, something so automatic that it didn’t surprise you anymore. It was always like this when he was near.

He was leaning over a large, worn book, his elbows resting on the table, hands gently holding his head as if the weight of the words required his full attention. His messy brown hair fell over his forehead, framing his face with soft yet marked features. The dim light from the windows made the golden hues in his hair shine, and you noticed how his brown eyes seemed almost honeyed as they slid over the pages. The thin scars crisscrossing his skin were almost invisible from a distance, but to you, who knew them well, they were impossible to ignore – and only made him even more... fascinating.

You were about to approach him and maybe ask what he was working on, but you stopped when you noticed he wasn’t alone. A Ravenclaw girl was sitting next to him. Tall, beautiful, with perfectly styled black hair and a warm smile, she seemed completely at ease. They were sharing the same book, their shoulders nearly touching as they examined the text. At one point, she said something that made him laugh – that low, soft laugh that always made your heart feel lighter and heavier at the same time.

You forced yourself to look away, feeling an odd warmth rise to your face. There was no reason to feel that way, you knew. Remus was your friend. A kind, funny friend, who always made you feel like the world was a safer place just because he was in it. And yet, that sight... bothered you. Much more than you wanted to admit.

With a sigh, you chose a table nearby, but far enough to not seem like you were spying. Opening your own books, you tried to focus on what you had planned to study – Herbology, your least favorite subject, but one that required attention. However, the words on the parchment seemed jumbled, as if your mind refused to absorb any information that wasn’t the sound of his laugh or the way he tilted his head when listening to what the girl was saying.

Unintentionally, you found yourself sneaking glances in their direction. It was impossible not to notice the way he moved – the restrained, smooth gestures, as if even the smallest movement was deliberate. The way he furrowed his brows when something in the text seemed intriguing, or how he would lightly bite the corner of his mouth when he laughed. Every detail seemed made to keep you mesmerized.

And the worst part was that you knew he had no idea of the effect he had on you. To him, you were just another friend. Maybe a confidante, someone he could share a book with or have an easy conversation in the Common Room. And that should be enough. But it wasn’t. Not when you knew, deep down, that you wanted more. That you wanted to be the one sitting next to him, not that Ravenclaw girl. You wanted to be the one who made him smile like that.

The thought was whispering, almost painful in its honesty. You wanted him to look at you the way he looked at that book – with attention, interest, and maybe even a hint of admiration. You wanted him to choose to sit next to you, not someone else. You wanted him to share that soft laugh with you, and only you.

But most of all, you wanted him to know. You wanted to tell him how important he was, how he was more than just a friend to you, even if that meant risking everything. And yet, you couldn’t. Not when he seemed so calm, so oblivious to any feelings you might be silently holding.

You snapped the book in front of you shut with a soft thud, frustrated with yourself. This was ridiculous. You shouldn’t be sitting here, wasting time with thoughts that only left you more confused and unsure. But still, you couldn’t help sneaking one more glance in his direction. Just one more. As if you could keep that image – the smile, the ease, the way he seemed so charming even when he wasn’t trying – and carry it with you, like a secret that was only yours.

That’s when he looked at you.

Your heart skipped a beat so violently that you almost dropped the inkpot. Remus lifted his gaze from the book, his soft brown eyes meeting yours. He smiled, that small, lopsided smile, which was more of a silent invitation than a pure gesture of joy. For a second, you thought he would turn his attention back to the girl beside him – but instead, he stood up.

You froze. He was coming towards you. Each step seemed louder than the whispers of the library, and you couldn’t do anything but pretend you were rearranging your things. Maybe, if you seemed busy enough, he wouldn’t notice the flush on your face or the hesitant clenching of your hands.

"Hi," he said when he stopped next to your table. His voice was low, soft, as if it were a secret just for the two of you. "Is it okay if I sit here? I promise I won’t disturb you."

You looked at him, trying to keep your expression neutral, but you were sure the blush had already spread across your face. "Sure. It's... it's fine." You gestured to the seat next to you, and he sat down with the ease of someone who had been doing this for years.

Now that he was closer, it was impossible not to notice how his brown hair was messily tousled in a way that seemed... deliberate. Like every strand was exactly where it needed to be to make him even more adorable. And his eyes—intense and warm, like amber on a sunny day—were fixed on you, as if he were waiting for something.

"Herbology?" He asked, pointing to the parchment in front of you.

"Yeah," you replied, trying to seem uninterested. But it was hard when he was right there, so close, with that half-smile that seemed to read all your thoughts. "I have an essay on poisonous plants to turn in next week."

He nodded, but didn't really seem interested in the subject. His eyes stayed on you, watching, assessing. After a moment of silence, he tilted his head slightly, a gesture so characteristic of him that you almost smiled. "Are you okay? Want help?"

"I... I'm fine," you said quickly, even though it was obvious you were far from fine. Your mind was still stuck on the image of him with the Ravenclaw girl, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out: "You seemed busy."

Remus blinked, surprised. "Busy?"

"With the Ravenclaw girl," you explained, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably. Your gaze was fixed on the table now, your hands restless on the parchment. "She seemed... nice."

"Oh," he said, and there was something in his tone you couldn't quite decipher. "She was asking for help with a Charms assignment. It's nothing too interesting."

You shook your head, trying to push away the knot of frustration forming in your chest.

"Is everything okay?" The question was casual, but the gentle tone almost unraveled you.

"Why wouldn't it be?" You answered too quickly, realizing your mistake as soon as the words came out. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.

"You seem... distracted," he hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "Or upset."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to cover it, lowering your eyes to the parchment.

"It's nothing," you murmured, as your fingers played with the quill on the table.

He didn't respond immediately, but you felt the weight of his gaze. It was as if he was waiting for you to say more, and the tension in the silence was almost tangible. Finally, you forced yourself to look up.

"What is it?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

The corner of his mouth curled into a small smile, but his eyes remained serious.

"Nothing. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re looking at me like you want to bite me."

Your face heated up instantly, and you almost dropped the quill you were holding.

"I... I wasn't looking at you like that!" You protested, feeling your voice rise higher than you'd like.

He laughed—that low, contained laugh, but full of amusement.

"Really? Because it looked like it," He tilted his head to the side, as if genuinely curious.

You huffed, crossing your arms and looking away. "Maybe I was... distracted."

His smile faded slightly, replaced by something softer, more serious.

"By me?" He asked, quietly.

You hesitated, feeling your heart race again. He seemed so... genuine, as if he really wanted to know. But you couldn’t just tell the truth. You couldn’t admit that jealousy was eating you up inside, that the sound of that girl’s laughter still echoed in your mind, that all you wanted was for him to be laughing with you.

"Maybe," you finally responded, your voice barely a whisper.

A silence settled between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if something invisible was being shared there, something that didn’t need to be said, but that, somehow, you both understood. You risked looking at him again, and found a smile so sweet, so genuine, that it almost made your heart stop.

"I like this," he said softly, as if confessing a secret. "Knowing I can distract you."

Those words lingered in the air, so light and yet so full of meaning that you felt as if the whole world had stopped for a moment. He wasn’t looking at you now, focused on the book he had just opened, but the gentle curve of his smile was still there, visible enough to make your heart stumble again.

You didn’t know how to respond. What do you say when the person who occupies all your thoughts—your dreams, your daydreams, and even your frustrations—admits something like that, so casually and charmingly?

Trying to seem less affected than you actually were, you opened another book. But your fingers trembled slightly as you turned the pages, and the printed words seemed like meaningless smudges. It didn’t matter. Your mind was somewhere else, caught in the soft sound of his voice, the way he said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re very quiet." His voice cut through the silence again, low but with a hint of curiosity. You looked at him, realizing that he had already closed the book and was now truly watching you, his brown eyes catching every nuance of your expression.

"I just..." you began, but the sentence died before it could finish. How to explain? How to put into words the whirlwind he caused inside you without even trying?

He tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in a nearly imperceptible expression of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely interested, as if your answer was the most important thing in the world at that moment.

You looked away, trying to buy yourself some time. "Yeah, I’m fine. I just... got surprised."

"Surprised?" His tone was slightly curious, but there was something more there, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

"By what you said," you admitted, your voice a bit lower than you intended. Your fingers drummed against the side of the book, a futile attempt to mask the nervousness.

Remus smiled again, but this time there was something more shy in his expression. As if, for the first time, he was as vulnerable as you felt. "Shouldn’t I have said it?" he asked, his voice hesitant.

You quickly lifted your gaze, surprised by the question. "No!" The response came faster than you intended, but it was sincere. "I just... didn’t expect it."

He seemed to relax a little, though the shy smile was still there. "Good," he said, glancing briefly at his hands resting on the table. The scars marking his skin were visible, a silent reminder of everything he carried with him. But there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you again, as if, in that moment, he was trying to decipher something he wasn’t sure he should ask about.

"Do I distract you too?" The question slipped from his lips like a whisper, but it sounded like a storm in your ears.

You blinked, feeling your face heat up immediately. Everything inside you seemed to twist—nervousness, anticipation, something you still couldn’t fully name.

"Distraction might not be the right word," he replied, a small smile curling at his lips.

"Oh, no?" Your voice had a slightly worried tone now, no matter how much you tried to hide it.

He didn’t look away, seeming to search for the right words. "No. It’s more... complicated than that."

Remus didn’t say anything for a moment, but the way he looked at you made it seem like he was seeing far more than you were willing to admit. Finally, he tilted his head, a smile as soft as a spring breeze appearing at the corner of his lips. "Complicated can be good," he said, his voice low but full of something that made your throat tighten. "I mean... sometimes."

You didn’t know what to respond, and maybe you didn’t need to. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but full of something that felt tangible, as if you both knew that this—this conversation, these glances—was the beginning of something neither of you were ready to name yet.

And then, he did something so simple, yet it seemed to take the air out of your lungs: he extended his hand across the table and lightly touched the tips of your fingers, as if he wanted to make sure you were there, that it was real.

"Complicated," he repeated, the smile now bigger, more certain. "But good."

You couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on your face, nor the way your heart seemed to beat out of rhythm. Because, in that moment, even if nothing had been said explicitly, you knew he was talking about the two of you.

[ikkyfics]

OMG a thousand notes - a thousand notes. Thank you so much to each and every person who read it, I love you <333

Divination

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: “You two have an intertwined future,” the teacher says, her enigmatic smile deepening. “I see a boy… He’ll wear glasses, like his father.”

Warnings: just fluffy - a lovestruck and embarrassed James

Masterlist - Realization

The scent of incense hangs heavy in the stifling Divination classroom, where the heat wraps around you like an invisible cloak. The dim light of scattered candles in ancient holders gives the room a mysterious air, and thick velvet curtains block out any sign of the outside world. You’re seated beside James Potter, and between the two of you, at the center of the round table, a crystal ball rests silently, surrounded by a tattered book of Divination with yellowed pages.

It’s been at least half an hour since you both started staring at the crystal ball, unable to see anything at all. Frustrated, James was the first to give up, throwing himself into the far more entertaining task of making up ridiculous stories about the future he “saw” in the cloudy surface of the object.

“There! It’s as clear as day,” he says, dramatically pointing at the crystal ball with a mischievous grin. “You’re going to be the first professional Quidditch player to bring a hippogriff onto the field. And I’ll, uh… obviously become the greatest dragon tamer the world has ever seen.”

You burst into laughter, trying to keep a straight face as he gestures like he’s actually wrangling an invisible dragon. “Didn’t know your vision included being mauled by your own dragon,” you tease, and he chuckles, pushing his glasses up as he attempts to look offended.

You’re still laughing when you notice the professor’s presence beside your table. She seems to materialize out of the shadows, her intense gaze flicking between you and James. Your laughter dies in your throat, and James straightens in his chair, still with a trace of a grin on his lips.

“Enjoying yourselves, I see,” the professor says, her low voice reverberating in the quiet space. She leans slightly forward, observing the crystal ball for a few seconds before turning her gaze back to you. The pause is long, almost uncomfortable, and when she finally speaks, the room seems to hold its breath along with you.

“You two have an intertwined future,” she says, her enigmatic smile deepening. Her fingers brush lightly against your shoulder, a gesture almost maternal. “I see a boy… He’ll wear glasses, like his father.”

The silence that follows is deafening. It feels as though the entire world has frozen in that instant, the weight of her words hitting you like a gust of icy wind. When you finally summon the courage to glance at James, he’s already looking at you, his eyes wide, his expression a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and something else you can’t quite place.

“Well… that was… interesting,” he says at last, breaking the silence with a voice deeper than usual. He attempts to laugh, but it comes out nervous, and his hand automatically moves to his neck, ruffling his already messy hair.

“Interesting is one word for it,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice steady. But your heart is pounding so fast it feels impossible he can’t hear it.

For a moment that feels like an eternity, you hold each other’s gaze. James’s look is intense, almost unsettling, as though he’s trying to decipher something, like the future the professor mentioned is now written on your face.

“Our son, huh?” he finally says, his voice barely a whisper. He tries to smile, but it’s a hesitant one, laden with something that might be fear or anticipation. “Hope he gets your good sense. Two of me would be a disaster.”

You laugh, despite the tension, and the sound seems to ease the air between you. “And I hope he doesn’t inherit your knack for getting into trouble.”

He laughs too, and for a brief moment, everything feels normal again. But then the silence returns. James averts his gaze, staring at the crystal ball as if, suddenly, it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. You do the same, fixing your eyes on the open Divination book in front of you, though you can’t read a single word.

And then, at the same time:

“I was thinking that—” “Do you think she—”

The words overlap, making both of you stop instantly. You look at each other, startled, before James starts to laugh nervously. You can’t help but laugh too, covering your mouth with your hand as you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” he says, still chuckling, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “You go first.”

“No, you go,” you reply, the smile still playing on your lips.

“Alright, then.” He takes a deep breath, as if preparing for something big, but when he speaks, his voice comes out softer than you expected. “Do you think… she was serious?”

You hesitate, biting your lip as you consider the question. “I don’t know. She seems so certain about everything, but… maybe it’s just one of those things she says to make an impression, you know?”

James nods, but his smile is small, almost uncertain. “Yeah, probably. I mean, she did say Peter would marry a Merpeople, didn’t she?”

You laugh again, the memory easing some of the tension. “And that Sirius would become Minister for Magic. He nearly cried from laughing so hard.”

“Yeah, that does put things in perspective.” He laughs too, but the silence that follows feels different this time. It’s not uncomfortable, but full of unspoken thoughts that seem to hang in the air between you.

“But what if…?” you begin, your voice so quiet you can’t believe you said it out loud.

James looks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he’s trying to figure out what you mean. “What if…?” he repeats, leaving the question hanging, and you feel your heart race.

“Oh, forget it,” you say quickly, laughing nervously. “It’s just the professor and her absurd prophecies. No reason to take it seriously.”

“Yeah, of course,” he agrees, but something in his voice makes you think he’s not entirely convinced.

The silence returns, and you can’t help but let your mind wander. A little boy with James’s messy hair and a pair of glasses slipping down his nose comes to mind, and without meaning to, you smile. The image is so sweet it almost makes your heart ache.

“What are you smiling at?” James asks, and you realize he’s looking at you again, his head tilted slightly.

“Nothing,” you respond far too quickly, feeling heat rise to your face.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he presses, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“It’s just…” You hesitate, but James’s smile is encouraging, even if he doesn’t realize it. “I was thinking about what she said. About… a boy. And I was imagining… he’d look just like you, with messy hair and those glasses.”

James blinks, as though your words caught him completely off guard, and you feel the urgent need to fill the silence before it gets awkward. “Not that I think that’s going to happen! It’s just… well, the idea is funny, isn’t it?”

“It’s…” he starts, but then stops, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away. When he speaks again, his voice is almost a murmur: “I think I’d… maybe I’d prefer a girl. Who looked like you.”

Time seems to stop. You’re sure your heart skips a beat, and the silence that follows is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

James’s eyes widen as if he’s just realized what he said. “I mean—” he begins, his voice an octave higher. “Not that… that’s not what I meant! I just… ah, never mind.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and it’s impossible to hold it back. “A girl who looks like me, huh?” you tease, and his embarrassment is so endearing you almost forget your own.

“Alright, you win,” he says, throwing his hands up in surrender, but the smile he tries to hide says more than any words could. “I think the professor got to us. We’re officially losing it.”

“Yeah,” you agree, laughing, but inside, you know something has changed. Because, as absurd as it might seem, the idea of a shared future with James doesn’t feel so impossible anymore.

[ikkyfics]

Stag Party

James Potter x reader

Summary: Sirius ignored him completely. “First, remember one thing: atmosphere is everything. If you stay somewhere with a creaky bed, you’ve failed as a husband.” James laughed but covered his face with his hand. “Merlin, I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” “Oh, wait, there’s more.”

Warnings: none

Part 7 of Marry Me

Masterlist

It was a golden afternoon, with the sun gleaming on the autumn leaves in the garden. The air was filled with anticipation, especially for James, who was sitting on the couch beside you, his hands intertwined with yours, wearing that signature smile that always made your heart race.

You both were savoring the last quiet moments before the evening’s commotion. James was about to leave for the long-awaited bachelor party organized by the Marauders, and though he tried to hide it, it was clear he was excited.

The door slammed open, and Sirius entered first, a whirlwind of energy. His messy black hair was more unruly than ever, and he wore a leather jacket that was definitely not suitable for the weather. "Prongs! Time to go, my dear future married man!"

Right behind him came Remus, more composed, but with a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. He was wearing a blue sweater that looked like it had been knitted by some devoted grandmother, a stark contrast to Sirius's chaotic energy. "Hope you're ready. Sirius spent the whole week planning this," he said, giving a slightly suspicious glance to his friend.

Peter appeared last, carrying a wrapped box that seemed heavier than he was. He was blushing and grinning from ear to ear. "I told you I wasn’t carrying this alone!" he protested, as Sirius easily took the box from him.

"Prongs, let’s go! We’ve got the whole night planned, and you can’t be late," Sirius said, slapping James on the back.

James looked at you, his blue eyes shining behind his glasses. He seemed torn between wanting to spend more time with you and the excitement of going out with the guys. "I guess this is a goodbye for a few hours," he said, leaning in close.

You smiled, knowing exactly what to do. Gently pulling him by the tie he was wearing – because of course James wore a tie even on a casual day – you kissed him. It was a slow, sweet, deliberate kiss that made him sigh against your lips.

"Oi, oi! Let’s go, Prongs, this isn’t the honeymoon!" Sirius exclaimed, pretending to cover his eyes.

"For Merlin’s sake, we’re still here," Remus muttered, but his smile gave away how much he found the scene amusing.

James finally pulled away, but not before leaving a last kiss on the tip of your nose, causing more grimaces from Sirius. "I’ll be back soon," he said softly.

Before they left, you placed a hand on Sirius’s chest, stopping him. "I’m only going to say this once: strippers are off the table. Understood?"

Remus raised an eyebrow and responded with his usual calm. "I promise there won’t be any strippers."

"But I can’t guarantee anything about—" he started, only to be cut off by Sirius.

"Hey, hey! That was supposed to be a surprise!" Sirius said, feigning indignation. "But don’t worry. We’ll bring Prongs back safe and sound for you... eventually."

When James was practically dragged out of the house by the Marauders, he looked back one last time, flashing a smile that made your heart melt. You shook your head, knowing he was in good hands – albeit extremely chaotic ones.

Outside, Sirius was already waiting impatiently to Disapparate. "Prongs, today’s the day you learn what real fun is. No responsibilities, no wedding lists, just us and the best night you’ll have before you say 'I do.'"

James raised an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses. "As long as it doesn’t involve anyone losing their pants or ending up in the Ministry’s holding cell..."

"Relax, love," Sirius replied with a grin, throwing his arm around Remus’s shoulders, who looked at him with skepticism. "We’re not losing our pants. Just... maybe... misplacing them temporarily."

Remus sighed, but there was a lightness in his eyes. "Ignore him, James. The worst that’ll happen is Sirius breaking a bar stool trying to show off some inappropriate dance moves."

"Hey! That was ONE time!" Sirius protested, while Remus just shot him an incredulous look.

"Oh, let’s go before you start fighting," Peter said, stretching out his arms so everyone could Disapparate together.

They vanished with a pop and reappeared in a place that was a mix of controlled chaos and extravagant magic. A wizarding bar filled with floating enchantments greeted the group, with colorful lights flashing around and a makeshift stage where a band was playing.

"Welcome to the Howling Cauldron," Sirius announced dramatically. "The best place to celebrate like there’s no tomorrow."

James looked around, surprised by the size of the place. The enchanted walls displayed constantly changing landscapes – from lush forests to snow-capped mountains – and the tables were filled with spells that made drinks levitate directly into the customers' hands.

“I’m afraid to ask how you found that out,” James said, throwing a glance at Sirius, who simply smiled as if he were the greatest genius in the world.

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was an obvious affection in the gesture. “He spends more time researching bars than he should, but... he has good taste.”

Soon, the group was seated at a polished wooden table, with mugs of butterbeer and goblets of mead being magically distributed. Sirius raised the first goblet, signaling for everyone to do the same.

“A toast to Prongs!” he began, with a wide, sincere smile. “To the best friend a guy could have – and to his bad luck for getting married before me!”

Remus gave his shoulder a light punch. “You’ve literally been dating me for years, and we live in the same house.”

“Details, details,” Sirius shot back, before continuing the toast. “Prongs, you deserve all the happiness in the world. And honestly, we deserve credit for putting up with you while you fell madly in love and got unbearably mushy.”

James blushed slightly but smiled. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, it’s not bad,” Peter chimed in, with a shy smile. “It’s just... constant.”

Everyone laughed and toasted, the sound of the goblets echoing through the bar.

After a few rounds of drinks and embarrassing stories – like the time James fell off his broom trying to impress you – Sirius appeared with a box wrapped in a silver ribbon.

When Sirius handed the box to James, his eyes sparkled with the same mischievous energy that had turned simple moments into legendary tales. “Just open it,” he insisted, his voice full of expectation.

James, who had already been blushing lightly from all the laughter – and maybe a bit from the rounds of mead – raised an eyebrow and carefully untied the silver ribbon, clearly skeptical. As he opened the lid, he froze like a deer caught in the headlights.

Inside the box was a pair of underwear that blinked in bright letters: Love, You’re Lucky to Have Me.

The bar exploded with laughter. Sirius literally barked a loud laugh, slamming his hand on the table hard enough to almost spill his drink. Remus joined in with a short laugh before covering his face with his hand, shaking his head in amused disapproval. Peter, on the other hand, let out a high-pitched laugh and immediately took a long gulp of his butterbeer, trying to contain the embarrassment of being seen in public with this chaotic group.

James picked up the item with two fingers, holding it up in the air like a broken broomstick. “Sirius, this is absolutely ridiculous,” he said, but the smile that threatened to form on his lips betrayed any seriousness he tried to fake.

“Ridiculous?” Sirius repeated, mock-offended. “This is a masterpiece! You’ll thank me when you wear it on your honeymoon.” He winked, and the group laughed even harder.

Remus, who had until then tried to maintain some dignity, finally succumbed to the chaos. “This is so you, Sirius. You’ve managed to combine bad taste and creativity in one gift.”

Sirius dramatically pointed at him. “Ah, but that’s why you love me, Moony.”

“For that and your amazing skills at being the most inconvenient person in the world,” Remus retorted, but there was a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“Speaking of inconvenient,” Peter began, with an expression that could only be described as a small, adorable betrayal, “has anyone told the story about the time James tried to impress her with that spell to make fireworks?”

James turned around so fast he almost knocked over his goblet. “Peter, no!”

But it was too late. Sirius was already leaning forward, his eyes shining with anticipation. “Wait, I don’t know this one!”

Remus bit his lip, trying to hold back a smile. “Oh, it was memorable. James decided to surprise her in her garden. He wanted to conjure fireworks with their initials...”

Peter completed the story, enthusiastically betraying James: “But he messed up the spell, and the sparks ended up forming completely wrong initials, and she got confused because she thought he was talking about a completely different couple.”

Sirius laughed so hard that tears threatened to escape. “You... you basically confessed your feelings for another person! This is pure gold, Prongs.”

James shook his head but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Oh, of course, because none of you ever did anything stupid to impress someone, right?”

Sirius blinked innocently. “Me? Never.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, sure. Want me to mention the time you tried to impress me by dancing on top of a table in the common room?”

“Oh, that was a display of talent, Moony,” Sirius replied, without an ounce of shame.

“It was more of a display of how clumsy you are,” Remus shot back, and the group erupted into another round of laughter.

When the laughter started to die down, Sirius turned his attention to James with a smile that promised nothing good. “Now, let’s talk seriously, Prongs. Are you ready for your honeymoon?”

James squinted. “If by ‘ready’ you mean I’ve planned everything to make it special, then yes. If you mean am I ready to hear you give absolutely inappropriate advice, then no.”

Sirius completely ignored the second part. “First, remember one thing: atmosphere is everything. If you stay somewhere with a creaky bed, you’ve failed as a husband.”

James laughed but covered his face with his hand. “Merlin, I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“Oh, wait, there’s more,” Sirius continued, raising a finger. “Never underestimate the power of a good ambient lighting spell. Magic lights are good, but enchanted candles with scent? Perfect.”

“That’s very specific,” Remus commented, looking at him with a slightly flushed face.

Sirius smirked. “I only say what I know.”

Before James could protest, Peter intervened with his hesitant voice, but full of enthusiasm. “Oh, and have you chosen who will be the godfather of the first baby? Because I have a list of reasons why it should be me.”

That broke any remaining attempt at seriousness. James laughed loudly, and even Sirius looked surprised by Peter’s boldness.

Remus shook his head, smiling. “You’re skipping a few steps, don’t you think?”

Sirius patted Peter on the shoulder. “Ah, Wormtail, you always know how to steal the show. But we all know the godfather will be me.”

When the night came to an end, James looked around at his friends with a smile that didn’t need words to express what he felt. They were chaotic, unpredictable, and absolutely insufferable... but they were his family.

And as Sirius led the group toward the exit with one last tease, James made a mental note: maybe he really should consider those scented enchanted candles. After all, every piece of advice had its use.

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy

[ikkyfics]

send this to all your favourite moots and roll a snowball! KEEP THE SNOWBALL ROLLING!❄️🤍❄️🤍❄️

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REMEMBERING ME, SWEETIE 🤍🌟 <333

[ikkyfics]

SNOW BALL GET UR SNOW BALLS HERE!!!! (send a snowball to all ur mutuals <3)

AAAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH MY DEAR <333

[ikkyfics]

Happy holidays and merry Christmas :D!!

THANK YOU 💖💖🎄🌟 ​​MERRY CHRISTMAS TOO <3333 enjoy the holiday, my loves

[ikkyfics]

Hii ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ about headcanons! May I request father(and/or husband) headcanons for Vronsky and James Potter? How would they be as fathers/husbands?

Tysm for your hard work! We all appreciate it :DD

heeeeeeeeeey, sweetie - I hope you like what I did, the world of headcanons is still new to me =>.<=

Home Charm Forever Yours

[ikkyfics]

Home Charm

James Potter x reader

Summary: James Potter, the devoted and loving father, transforms every moment into magic and love with his enchanted family.

Warnings: none

A/N: anon, hope you like it <333

Masterlist

• James loves making you laugh and uses every opportunity to tease you in a cute way. He might steal a kiss in the middle of an argument or tickle you until you beg for mercy. Life with him is always light and fun.

• He deeply values your partnership. For any important decision, he always checks with you first, making it clear that your opinion is the most important to him.

• James never misses a chance to steal a kiss. Whether you’re in the middle of a sentence, distracted with a book, or even complaining about something, he simply can’t resist. “You had that irresistible look, love, I had to do it,” he says with a mischievous smile, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

• James is such a soft dad that just hearing the kids say “daddy” for the first time made him emotional. He tells everyone about it — Sirius had lost count of how many times he’d heard the same story. “My kid said I’m the best dad in the world yesterday. I’m not saying it’s true, but I’m not denying it either,” he jokes with a smile that lights up his entire face.

• If one of the kids mentions liking something, even if it’s a small detail, James jumps into action. “You like chocolate frogs? Great, now we have an entire collection.” He fills the shopping cart with anything he thinks the kids will love, only realizing the excess when you laugh while trying to find space in the house to store everything.

• For James, physical touch is a form of love. He wraps his arm around your waist whenever you’re together, as if he needs to make sure you’re there. When you’re cooking, he leans against the counter just to watch, but never without first running his hands over your shoulders or waist. He pulls you close with the excuse of “needing to taste something” you’re making, but in reality, he just wants you in his arms.

• He has the habit of complimenting you out of nowhere, especially in public, as if he can’t hold back how he feels. “Are you all seeing this? How did I marry the most beautiful woman in the world?” he jokes with his friends, but his look is completely serious. You might roll your eyes, but the sparkle in his smile always melts you.

• James has a smile unlike any other, one he reserves only for you. It’s the kind of smile that makes it feel like you’re the only person in the world who matters, full of tenderness and adoration.

• Even without music, James finds an excuse to make you twirl around the room. Whether it’s after a long day or just because he thinks you need a smile, he takes your hand and leads you in an exaggerated way, as if you’re the stars of a ballroom. When you protest, he just laughs and insists, saying, “You know I won’t stop until I get a smile, right?”

• He has the habit of pulling you into a long kiss, especially when you’re in a rush to leave. “Just one more, please,” he asks, pressing his forehead against yours after, still a little out of breath and with shiny lips. Of course, this results in you both being late more often than you’d like, but who can resist him?

• He loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his sweaters and shirts. When he notices you’re cold, he doesn’t wait for you to ask — he just wraps you in one of his huge coats and puts his arms around you like a human blanket. “Much better this way, don’t you think?” he whispers in your ear, though it doesn’t take long before he removes his clothes from you.

• The king of excuses to hug you. “You don’t look comfortable in that chair,” he comments, pulling you onto his lap with ease. “You know what would be better? Sitting here.” He does this anywhere: in the living room, the backyard, showering your neck with kisses that fluster you.

• James knows exactly how to make you laugh, even on the toughest days. He might mimic voices, make faces, or even create hilarious imaginary scenes with objects around. His goal, he swears, is always to hear you laugh, because “if you’re laughing, I’m winning at life.”

• When you’re sick or tired, James becomes your loving caretaker. He brings tea, makes soup, and wraps you in blankets. “You just need to tell me what you want, my love, and I’ll do it,” he insists, even if his soup attempt ends up being more funny than delicious.

• James loves telling the story of the day he met you. He does it with such enthusiasm that it feels like he’s reliving the moment every time, emphasizing how you captivated him right away. “I knew from that instant I was lost,” he confesses, while you roll your eyes, but your heart races anyway.

• No matter how tired he is, James never forgets to give you a kiss before bed. He pulls you close, whispers something sweet or funny, and kisses your forehead, cheek, and finally your lips. “Good night, my life,” he says with so much affection that it feels like you’re in the arms of the whole world.

• When the kids scribble on the house walls, you try to be firm about the rules, but James shows up with a mischievous look. “You know, they were just expressing their creativity,” he argues while trying to scrub the marks. In the end, he ends up sitting in time-out with them, admitting that “he was an accomplice to the art.”

• During your pregnancy, James had the habit of lying next to you and talking to the baby, even when it seemed silly. He would talk about how excited he was to meet the baby, or make up funny stories about teaching the baby to fly. When he felt the baby move, his eyes would shine in a way that made you fall even more in love.

• Before bed, James turns simple stories into epic adventures. He does all the voices for the characters, makes exaggerated gestures, and even creates a soundtrack with light spells. Even if the kids are exhausted, they always ask for “just one more story, daddy.”

• When you say no to something the kids want, James does his best to negotiate on their behalf. “Love, they just want to build a fort in the middle of the living room. And look, they’ve already assigned me as the troll guarding the entrance. I can’t disappoint my adventurers,” he says with an irresistible look.

• Even on days when the kids make a mess or are in a bad mood, James stays calm. He believes every behavior has a reason and prefers to resolve things with conversations and playfulness rather than scolding. When one of the kids cries, he immediately sits next to them, saying, “It’s okay, champ. What’s wrong? Daddy’s here.”

• James never misses a chance to shower the kids with affection. He hugs them, kisses their cheeks, and messes up their hair. “You know I love you, right?” he says daily, because he believes it’s important for them to grow up knowing how adored they are.

• James loves creating little traditions. Every Friday night, he organizes “pajama parties” in the living room, where you watch Muggle movies (courtesy of Remus) and eat enchanted popcorn that changes flavor. At Christmas, he always dresses up as Santa, even though the kids already know it’s him.

• He completely surrenders to playtime. If that means getting covered in paint or glitter, James doesn’t mind. To him, the kids’ laughter is worth any effort. Later, he makes sure to help them clean up, singing made-up songs to make the moment fun.

• James makes sure to emphasize how amazing the kids are. “Did you know you’re the smartest wizard that ever existed?” or “That was the most impressive defense I’ve ever seen in a Quidditch match! And trust me, I’ve seen a lot of Quidditch.” He believes every day is a new chance to make the kids feel special.

• James makes sure to show you how much he loves you in front of the kids. He says “I love your mom” whenever he can, believing this will teach them what a healthy relationship looks like. He believes raising kids in a home full of love and laughter is the greatest gift he can give them.

[ikkyfics]

Forever Yours

Alexei Vronsky x reader

Summary: Alexei Vronsky, with his intensity, lives love in every gesture as a husband and father

Warnings: none

A/N: anon, hope you like it <33

Masterlist

• Alexei would be an intense husband, someone who loves with fiery, absolute devotion, but who can also lose himself in his own desires and emotions. He watches you as if every moment by his side is a performance to be admired. You often catch him looking at you with a sideways smile, almost as though he’s admiring a living piece of art.

• He’s the type who loves extravagant surprises. One day, he comes home with an expensive piece of jewelry he saw in a shop window and simply thought it was perfect for you. On another day, he decides to take you on an impromptu picnic in the middle of a blooming field, not caring about logistics or details.

• He’s fascinated by how your children reflect traits of both of you. “Look at this,” he whispers, watching how the baby holds your finger. “So small, but already so perfect. How can this be real?”

• He insists on having the children educated at home by prestigious tutors, but always makes sure to be present for their first lessons in anything important, even if only to watch them with a childlike pride. He loves hearing the first words they learn in French or seeing them draw imperfect shapes as they attempt to master their handwriting.

• In the afternoons, he likes to sit in his favorite chair while the children play on the rug nearby. He watches them with such intensity that you know, in that moment, his whole world is there—with you and the children.

• Alexei has the habit of carrying the children even when they’re too big for it. He lifts them as though they’re as light as feathers, spinning them around until laughter echoes through the house. He says he wants to savor every moment before they grow up and have to deal with the world’s problems.

• When you argue, Alexei can’t stay distant for long. He gently knocks on your bedroom door, his expression dejected. “I can’t stand this,” he says in a quiet voice. “I hate it when we’re like this.” And even when he’s wrong, he always finds a way to make amends.

• He loves the sound of your laughter. When you laugh, he stops whatever he’s doing just to admire it. “You know you’re ruining me, don’t you?” he teases, though his tone is entirely sincere.

• Alexei is particularly affectionate at night when the world seems quieter. He enjoys lying next to you, talking about anything that worries or fascinates him, always with his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin.

• He has the habit of writing little notes for you, even when there’s no need. Small letters left on your vanity or tucked between the pages of a book he knows you’re reading. The words are simple, but full of emotion: “My dear, today, as always, I thought about you more times than I can count.”

• When you walk together, whether in the gardens or through the streets, he always offers his arm or holds your hand, as if wanting to remind everyone—and himself—that you are his companion.

• Every night, before bed, Alexei makes sure to stop by the children’s room. He whispers promises about the future, as if needing to reassure himself that he will always be there for them.

• During the harsh winters, he enjoys sitting by the fireplace with the family. He reads to the children while you embroider or simply watch, feeling enveloped by the warmth of the moment.

• He is meticulous when planning family events, like birthdays. He enjoys surprising you and the children, whether with a sophisticated banquet or a carefully chosen small gift. Alexei has the habit of kissing your hand every morning before he gets out of bed. He does this almost reverently, as if it were a ritual of devotion. “It’s still a miracle that you’re mine,” he murmurs, even after years of marriage.

• At night, he reads to you while you brush your hair. His voice is deep and calm, turning even the most ordinary texts into melodies for your ears. It’s in these moments that he seems most vulnerable, setting aside all pretenses to show you a more serene side.

• Alexei loves dancing with you. Even without music, he pulls you into his arms in the middle of a conversation or while you’re distracted. With bare feet on the wooden floor, he leads the steps with a smile that carries the intensity of someone who sees love as an eternal performance.

• On the rare days he can spend the entire morning at home, he insists on bringing fresh flowers to your room, filling the space with the sweet scent and vibrant light that match your presence.

• Despite all his flaws, Alexei loves you with a nearly desperate devotion. He’s the type of man who would do anything to protect his family, even if it meant sacrificing something important to him.

• He’s a father who, though imperfect, learns from his own mistakes. When you confront him about his absences or actions, he listens—sometimes with stubbornness, but always with the intention to improve.

• Alexei is afraid of disappointing you. This fear makes him vulnerable and sometimes leads him to impulsive decisions, but his intention is always to put you first.

• He is deeply grateful for you, even if he doesn’t say it every day. In quiet moments, he enjoys holding your hand and simply looking at you, as if reminding himself that he’s found everything he’s ever wanted.

• Alexei completely melts when the children run to him as soon as he comes home. No matter how tired he is, he kneels with open arms to welcome them. These moments make him forget all the pressures and responsibilities.

• Alexei is fascinated by the children from the moment they’re born. He holds the baby with almost reverent care, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and admiration. For him, every small movement or sound the baby makes is a source of wonder.

• He’s subtly possessive. Not that he doesn’t trust you, but the idea that you could choose someone else over him is something that torments him. He doesn’t express it openly, but you notice it in small gestures: like the way he gets close when you’re in public, touching your hand or waist, as if to show the world that you belong to him.

[ikkyfics]

Thanks for the tag @gingerteafairy 🌸🌟

tag @bohnerrific69 @ladydeath08 + anyone else (no pressure, my loves :3)

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒: 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ "𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 + 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒," 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑥 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑎𝑔 𝑠𝑖𝑥 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒.

thanks @ghosts-and-blue-sweaters and @cbuttonduo for the tag!! <3

wow i’m obsessed with this and i feel it’s fairly accurate!!

tags (no pressure): @thewildballyntynesgrow @bronzetomatoes @cloverstellar @clingyduoapologist @seeking-elsewhither @thoughts-of-caly