someonelol1872

[someonelol1872]

You guys have such cute headcannons stop

I wanna hear your Isaac headcannons

pretty pretty please please please?

[someonelol1872]

I wanna hear your Isaac headcannons

pretty pretty please please please?

[someonelol1872]

I wanna hear your Isaac headcannons

pretty pretty please please please?

[someonelol1872]

A Game For Two

You decided to test Isaac's patience, and he made sure to turn it into a lesson you will not forget. Isaac x Reader  (MDNI! NSFW)

Masterlist

Patient, unwavering, and composed.

Isaac Rhoades prides himself on those traits. Years and years of experience and lessons from his grandfather taught him how to be a refined man. And it succeeded.

The longer you stay in his manor, the more you observe him. You saw how he said the right words, knew the right time, and did everything with perfection and precision. How he was able to have such self-control lingered in your thoughts for so long. So much so that you wondered what it would take for him to lose it.

It started with small things: sending the files minutes late, forgetting to do a small chore, and even making a mess in his office. Even so, he only approached the situation with understanding and patience. With a sigh, you accepted that your actions were futile.

“I have something to address,” Isaac spoke as you both prepared for bed.

“What is it?” You tilted your head.

“Are you alright? I noticed that these past few days you seem out of it. Are the tasks too overwhelming? We can take a break,” He looked at you with concern. Of course, he'd ask, nothing gets past him.

You looked at him, ashamed of how you acted around him during those days as you conducted a trial on him that only you knew. It was unfair, you found yourself in a predicament that you put yourself into. Embarrassing.

“You can tell me anything,” He held your hand, unaware of the emotions swirling in your stomach.

With a sigh, you decided to come clean, “It was nothing. I just want to see you… you know, wearing another emotion…”

His eyes squinted in confusion, “So you wanted to get a rise out of me?”

Your eyes widened, seeing the implication, “No! I mean, I just want to see you outside of that Isaac Rhoades, like let loose. I don't want to push you like that.”

“By being clumsy? It will take more than that,” He chuckled, poking your nose.

“What would it take then?”

“You seem eager, why do you want to see me lose my composure?”

“Can't I be curious?”

“Fine,” He laughed, “If you were able to do that, I'll grant you one wish. You can have anything that you want.”

“Anything?” Your voice is skeptical.

“Anything,” He held his hand out, “Deal?”

With a newfound determination, you shook his hand, “Deal.”

The air felt thick around you as if the heat would swallow you whole. Sounds of bated breaths and soft rustling of clothes fill the room. You felt lightheaded as you sat on his lap, your skin sensitive and hot.

Everything felt overwhelming and raw as if every single one of your senses was heightened.

Despite that, you relished in it. How can you not when he's buried deep inside you?

Biting your lip, you tried to adjust your position. Isaac is a big man, and so is his cock, having him inside you for such an amount of time helped you adjust to him but it was never enough.

As you moved, you felt his tip nudge against your spot, causing your body to react to him. Isaac was not immune to that as you saw him tighten his grip on the folder.

You sat on his lap properly, kissing his neck while moving your hips slowly. “Too busy to pay attention?” You spoke in between kisses.

“I am. What an observation,” he nodded, not even sparing you a glance.

A small pout formed on your lips as you realized that your actions were not working. Determined to win the prize, you decided to amp it up.

Isaac watched as you changed your tactics. Once you straddled him, you slowly lowered yourself once again, feeling his cock deep inside you once more. This time, Isaac closed his eyes, stifling a moan.

"Are you gonna give up, Mr. Rhoades?" You teased, voice low as you whispered to his ear.

"You wish." He grunted, diverting his focus on his laptop, keeping up the facade of a sharp and unwavering man.

You chuckle at his denial. You didn't need his words, his body already gave you an answer as you felt his cock twitch inside you.

His hand gripped your thigh, giving you a glare– a warning not to move. A small smirk formed on your lips, relishing at the power that you currently have over him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you began to move. The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as his cock dragged in and out of you. It was scandalous, salacious, and lewd.

You made sure to give him a show, eyes rolling back, hands touching yourself, and letting out those sweet moans that Isaac always wanted to hear. All his paperwork was gone and forgotten as he watched you with awe, like something from his daydreams finally came to life.

As you continued to bounce on his dick, you began to be more aware of his girth and length. You bit your lip as you tightened around him, feeling yourself get closer and closer.

“I-Isaac! Ah!” You tugged his hair, head buried on his shoulder, “My god, I'm gonna cum!”

Isaac groaned, holding your hips as he assisted you. He nuzzled against your neck, leaving hot kisses as he thrust up into you. You were both lost in the sensation, the deal long forgotten as you both reached your highs.

"F-Fuck, just like that,” He let out a choked moan as you both found your rhythm. You felt a tight coil in your stomach intensifying every second.

Finally, you let go.

Your eyes shut close as you tightened around his cock, everything in your body felt hot and sensitive as if you were sent to heaven and back. The pleasure increased as Isaac came inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.

“Isaac,” You let out a soft whine. He cupped your cheek, moving so he could capture your soft lips in a kiss. His hands roamed around your body as his lips moved gently. You let out a soft moan, deepening the kiss— a gesture that he indulged in.

Your eyes snapped open as you felt him carry you. Pulling away from the kiss, you looked at your lover with confusion.

“I'm just helping you out,” He smirked, carrying you to the sofa while he was still inside you.

Isaac lays you down slowly, removing his shirt and revealing his refined body. What a view.

In one swift move, he discarded your clothes before he grabbed your hips, pulling you to him. You almost screamed at the sudden sensation, you were full of him once again. Before you can speak, he kissed you, his hands intertwined with yours as he began to move.

Everything felt too much. You can feel everything: how he twitched inside you, how he stretched you out, his breaths, his moans, his cock. Him.

“Isn't this– ah– Isn't this what you want?” He continued to pound you, the sound of sex filling the room.

“You won. You did,” He chuckled, leaving kisses all over your body. “So let me congratulate you,” He deepens himself inside you, and you both groan at the feeling.

Isaac captured your lips in a kiss once again, muffling any moans and screams that you might let out on how hard he was fucking you. This is what you wanted— a version of him that does not hold back. Unfiltered, raw, and impure. Yours and yours only.

“I'm cumming again. I know you'll take it,” He moved your legs to his shoulder, allowing him to hit your spot further. You arched your back, gripping his arms as you lost yourself to sensations.

The coil began to build up once again, this time it was stronger than before. “Ah! Ah! Isaac! Oh god!”

He looked at you, face filled with pleasure. You could hear him mutter a few curses before he gripped your thigh tightly.

“Cum with me.” He commanded, movements more desperate than ever. He began to fuck deeper and faster, the room filled with sounds of desperation and pleasure.

With a few thrusts, you both came. Breaths heavy as your minds filled with ecstasy after such debauchery.

You tried to catch your breath as he let go of your thighs just to settle between your legs. Your fingers ran through his hair as he softly kissed the marks that he left on your neck.

“So anything I want?”

Note: Okay, this is my first time writing smut. Let me know your feedback!

Divider: Cafekitsune

[someonelol1872]

I miss isaac :(

[someonelol1872]

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆✧ ₊˚ 𝓘𝓼𝓪𝓪𝓬 𝓡𝓱𝓸𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓼 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 ₊˚

𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔶 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔪𝔢...

𝔐𝔞𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔨𝔞 𝔫𝔬 𝔡𝔬𝔞 𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔦

𝔎𝔞𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔞

𝔄𝔫𝔬 𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔱𝔰𝔲 𝔤𝔞 𝔦𝔪𝔞 𝔪𝔢 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔢

𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔶 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔪𝔢...

𝔎𝔲𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔬 𝔦𝔦 𝔫𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔞

𝔉𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔦 𝔫𝔬 𝔱𝔬𝔨𝔦 𝔴𝔬 𝔡𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔢

𝔐𝔞𝔡𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔲 𝔇𝔞𝔦𝔧𝔦 𝔫𝔦 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱𝔞

-(Miki Matsubara) - 真夜中のドア / Stay With Me (Mayonaka no Door)

(Plot: Isaac, you, and Japanese.)

The scent of rain-kissed earth wafted through the open window of the study, mingling with the faint aroma of leather-bound books and aged whiskey. A lamp cast a warm, amber glow across the cluttered desk, illuminating the furrowed brow of the man hunched over it.

Isaac Rhoades, the half-Japanese, half-American private investigator, sat in his grandfather’s chair—a relic from a bygone era that still bore the indentation of the elder man’s form. The chair’s leather creaked as he leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin. He was contemplating the puzzle pieces scattered before him—photographs, newspaper clippings, and handwritten notes that painted a complex web of deceit and power. The silence of the house was a comforting cocoon, the only sound the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock in the foyer.

The door to the study creaked open, and a soft, tentative voice called out, "Isaac?" It was you, his live-in housekeeper turned confidant, assistant, and lover. Isaac's eyes didn’t leave the paper in front of him, but his posture relaxed slightly at the sound. He'd grown accustomed to your presence, the gentle intrusion into his solitude a soothing balm rather than an annoyance. "Come in," he said, his voice a low rumble.

You padded into the room with a coffee mug in your hands, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet that had muted the tread of countless feet over the decades. You moved with a grace that belied your inexperience in the art of espionage, a contrast to the heavy tread of the gangsters and thugs that often occupied the pages of the dossier in front of Isaac. The dim light caught the glint of your eyes—the same color as the whiskey in his glass—and cast shadows across your face that hinted at the curiosity beneath. You placed the warm mug down gently on his desk.

"Isaac," you repeated, a hint of sweetness in your tone, "I've been meaning to ask, when did you learn to speak Japanese?"

Isaac looked up from his paperwork, the question pulling him out of the murky waters of his case. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he gazed into the middle distance, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "My mother," he murmured, the words wrapped with warmth. "She taught me from a very young age. She had this way of speaking, so soft, like the… rustle of silk." He lifted the coffee mug to his lips, and his gaze grew distant, lost in the shadows of memory. "Every day she'd sit under that old willow tree, and she'd recite haiku to me. It was her way of keeping our heritage alive, I suppose."

The study was silent for a moment, filled only with the steady tick of the grandfather clock in the corner and the faint whisper of the rain outside. "Do you remember any of the… haiku, Isaac?" You asked, your voice a gentle probe into his thoughts.

Isaac's gaze returned to you, the warmth in his eyes sharpening to a focus that was as precise as the edge of a freshly honed knife. He nodded, a single dip of his chin. "One of her favorites was about resilience," he said, his voice taking on the rhythm of the poem, "踏まれた草にも 花が咲く, Tread upon grass and it will still bloom, flowers never truly crushed underfoot." He paused, his eyes flicking to the garden outside, shrouded in the evening's embrace. "It's a reminder that life persists, even through the hardest of times. My mother was quite fond of that one."

The room was quiet for a moment, the candles flickering with each gust that whispered through the old house. You leaned against the heavy mahogany doorframe, your curiosity piqued by the glimpse into Isaac's past. "Could you teach me, Isaac?" You asked, your voice carrying the hopefulness of a child asking for a story before bedtime.

Isaac's smile grew, a soft warmth lighting his features. He looked up from his paperwork, his eyes gleaming with an affection that was as rare as a perfectly silent night in the city. "Teach you Japanese?" he repeated, his tone one of pure delight. It was a request that seemed to warm him to his very core. "I'd be more than happy to, my dear."

You walked through the hallway, the floorboards creaking gently underfoot.

"Here," Isaac said, leading you into the library. It was a vast space filled with the sweet scent of aged paper. He approached a corner that was shrouded in shadows, his hand reaching for the knob of a drawer that the you had, surprisingly, never noticed before. It glided open with a smoothness that suggested it had not seen the light of day in quite some time.

Inside lay a collection of children's books, their spines worn and pages yellowed with age. He selected one titled 'Japanese for Little Minds'. His eyes grew distant as he traced his mother's handwriting on the title page, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The sight of her kanji, a stark contrast to the Roman letters of the book's title, was like a gentle caress from a ghost.

"This was one of the first books she taught me from," he murmured, flipping through the pages. The illustrations were simple but charming, depicting various animals and objects alongside their Japanese names. Each word was meticulously written in both kanji and hiragana, with a neat, childlike translation scribbled in English. "It's a bit… elementary for my usual tastes," he chuckled, glancing at you. "But it's a good starting point for you, don't you think?"

Your eyes sparkled with mischief. You tiptoed closer, wrapping your arms around Isaac's waist from behind. "Before we start," you whispered, your breath warm against his neck, "I've always wondered, what does a confession of love sound like in Japanese?"

Isaac's eyes widened, and you noticed the familiar, faint redness at the tips of his ears. He cleared his throat, his gaze drifting to the window where the moon cast a silver ribbon across the polished floorboards. "In Japanese," he began, his voice a velvety rumble, "one might say, 'Tsuki ga kirei desu ne?' It translates to 'The moon is beautiful, isn't it?' It's a subtle expression, often shared between lovers when the moon is high and the night is ripe with unspoken... sentiments."

Your grip tightened around his waist, your cheek brushing against the fabric of his shirt as you leaned closer. "How romantic,"

Isaac felt his heart stutter in his chest, his hand rising to cup the back of your neck. He tilted your head up gently, your eyes locking in silent understanding. The air grew thick with unspoken yearning as he bent closer, his breath a warm whisper against your skin.

Isaac’s eyes searched yours, a silent question lingering in the space between them. The room stilled, and the crackling fireplace whispered its approval. Your eyes fluttered shut as Isaac’s hands cupped your face. His thumbs brushed against their cheekbones, as if memorizing the contours of your face. His lips met yours, a gentle pressure that grew with burgeoning passion. It was a kiss that spoke of yearning and a silent promise that he was yours. That you were his.

The kiss grew deeper, a dance of tongues that tasted of whiskey. Isaac’s arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer, as if to shield you from the shadows of the night and the horrors of his world. The fire cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, painting you in a soft light that bathed the room in a romantic haze. His hands traveled from your face to your back, a gentle pressure that seemed to melt away the layers of armor that he had so carefully constructed.

As the kiss broke, you remained pressed against each other, your breaths mingling in the quiet. Your eyes remained closed, savoring the moment, as Isaac’s hand smoothed down the curve of your neck and rested at the small of your back. Then, he stepped back, his arms still around you, his expression a study in control as he composed himself. A faint blush colored his cheeks, a rare sight that made your heart flutter.

“All right, that’s quite enough,” Isaac murmured, his voice a deep, steady rumble, laced with a feigned sternness that barely masked the smile tugging at his lips. “If you’re truly set on learning Japanese, then we begin first thing in the morning.” He says, tapping your nose lovingly.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆✧ ₊˚ Thank you for reading! <3

(And, no, I did not forget the coffee growing cold in his study. The poor man’s coffee is but a casualty of your company—left to cool while he forgets the world.)

[someonelol1872]

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Seventeen! :DD

[someonelol1872]

Somebody... draw isaac and Isaac's mom like this:

[someonelol1872]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜, "𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞"⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝕯𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖒 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞'𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉, 𝕾𝖚𝖓 𝖉𝖎𝖌𝖘 𝖎𝖙𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘, 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖒𝖊, 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 -Rises the Moon, Liana Flores

Isaac had been working tirelessly for days, his office a refuge of relentless dedication. His ebony hair was disheveled, and the dark circles under his deep brown eyes were a stark testament to his exhaustion. His normally sharp features looked gaunt and pale, with worry lines etched deeply into his forehead. Today, his body had finally given in to exhaustion and illness. You noticed the change immediately as you entered the room, your heart aching to see him in such a state.

"Isaac, you need to rest," you said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The warmth of your touch was a stark contrast to the cold rigidity of his posture.

He shook his head, barely glancing up from his work. "I can't, Pickle. There's too much to do," he murmured, his voice strained.

Your concern deepened. You carefully pulled the papers from his hands, feeling the tension in his muscles as he reluctantly let go. "You won't be able to do anything if you don't take care of yourself," you chided gently, but with a firmness that left no room for argument.

Isaac, too weak to resist, allowed you to lead him. Each step felt like a monumental effort, his legs heavy and unsteady. You guided him to his bedroom of dark wood and soft, warm colors, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. You tucked him into his bed, pulling the thick, quilted covers up to his chin. The warmth of the blankets enveloped him, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled into his bones. He closed his eyes, already feeling a bit better under your care.

You hurried to the kitchen, determined to make him something nourishing. The kitchen was cozy and quiet, filled with the soft morning light filtering through the windows. You prepared his favorite gyoza, your hands deftly folding the dumplings with care. The soup simmered on the stove, a fragrant blend of chicken broth, ginger, scallions, garlic, and soy sauce filled the house, bringing a small smile to Isaac's lips even from the bedroom. You poured the steaming miso soup into a bowl, adding a dose of medicine to help with his fever.

Returning to his side with a tray, you sat on the edge of the bed. "Here, Isaac. You need to eat something," you said softly, offering him a piece of gyoza.

Isaac tried to protest, feeling too weak and embarrassed to be taken care of like this. "P-Pickle, you don't have to do all this," he murmured, his voice hoarse and his brown eyes glazed with fever.

But your gentle persistence won out. You fed him by hand, your touch tender and loving. "One more bite? For me?" you coaxed with a smile, your eyes full of concern and affection.

Reluctantly, Isaac opened his mouth for another bite, the warmth of the food bringing some color back to his cheeks. Despite his initial embarrassment, he found comfort in your presence, in the way you cared for him so devotedly. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection for you.

After finishing the meal, you set the tray aside and sat beside him, stroking his hair with a soothing rhythm. Your touch was gentle, fingers threading through his ebony locks. "Just rest now," you whispered, your voice a balm to his weary soul. You leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, your lips cool yet soft against his fevered skin.

Isaac's eyes grew heavy, lulled by your tender care and the warmth of your touch. "You're too good to me," he mumbled, a faint smile on his lips as he looked at you through half-closed eyes.

You smiled back, your fingers continuing their soothing motion through his hair. "You deserve it, Isaac. Now sleep," you said softly, your voice filled with love and reassurance.

As he drifted off to sleep, Isaac felt a profound sense of peace and contentment. In your care, he felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. He realized how much he depended on you, not just for moments like these, but for the happiness and light you brought into his life. As he slipped into slumber, he knew he would do anything to keep you by his side. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

[someonelol1872]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜, ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ♡"𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬"⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

𝕿𝖜𝖔 𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋𝖋 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉, 𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊'𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖆 𝖑𝖔𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖊𝖊, 𝖂𝖊'𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖇𝖔𝖜'𝖘 𝖊𝖓𝖉, 𝖂𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖓𝖉, 𝕸𝖞 𝖍𝖚𝖈𝖐𝖑𝖊𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉, 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖊 -Audrey Hepburn, Moon River, (from Breakfast at Tiffany's)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Isaac's estate was expansive, adorned with lush gardens, winding paths, and a tranquil lake that mirrored the sky. Ever since you arrived, Isaac had been wary of letting you venture beyond the confines of his home. The traumatic memories of losing his parents had made him overly cautious about your safety. Yet, he could see how being cooped up inside day after day weighed on you. You longed for fresh air and the simple joy of the outdoors.

One bright morning, after much internal debate, Isaac made up his mind.

The sun shone brilliantly, birds sang harmoniously, and the flowers were in full bloom. Your excitement was contagious, and Isaac found himself relaxing as you walked hand in hand. He grabbed a blanket and a couple of books, and the two of you made your way to the lake. The day was warm, the sky a brilliant blue with fluffy clouds drifting lazily across it, the sunlight filtering through the trees, casting a golden glow over everything.

As you reached the lake, you gasped in delight. The water sparkled under the sun, surrounded by lush greenery and wildflowers. Isaac spread the blanket on a grassy spot near the water, and you settled down, basking in the serene beauty of the place. He laid the blanket under a large oak tree, and you marveled at the tranquil water, its surface shimmering in the sunlight. Isaac unpacked a basket while you wandered around, picking wildflowers.

Isaac opened a book, his mind half on the words and half on your delighted expressions as you explored the surroundings. You returned with an armful of blooms and sat down next to him, weaving them into a crown. The flower crown featured an artful blend of white daisies, sprigs of lavender, golden buttercups, and pale pink wild roses. Tiny clusters of baby's breath filled in the gaps, all woven together with slender vines and green leaves.

After a while, you finished your flower crown and turned to Isaac, who was absorbed in his reading. With a playful smile, you crept up behind him and gently placed the crown on his head.

"W-What? Oh—" He chuckled, feeling warmth spread through his chest. "I feel a bit ridiculous, but if it makes you happy, I'll wear it."

You rolled your eyes playfully, "You look adorable," you said, before frolicking to another flower field, your laughter echoing through the garden. Isaac couldn't help but smile fondly. He reached up and gently took the flower crown off his head, holding it delicately between his fingers. Studying the intricate arrangement of blooms, he couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that enveloped him. It wasn't just the flower crown—it was the joy in your eyes when you placed it on his head, the carefree laughter that filled the air, and the simple happiness of being together in this tranquil garden.

You spotted a dandelion and, with a soft gasp of delight, knelt down, your fingers delicately plucking one of the fluffy white seed heads from its stem. Cradling it in your palm, you turned to Isaac, a playful gleam dancing in your eyes.

"Isaac, close your eyes," you whispered, your voice as light as a feather.

Isaac complied, the corners of his lips curling into a smile as he anticipated the surprise. He felt a gentle rustle of air, followed by a soft puff against his cheek as you blew on the dandelion.

As he opened his eyes, he was greeted by a shower of delicate white seeds, floating through the air and his ebony hair like ethereal snowflakes. They danced around him, catching the golden rays of sunlight and casting a magical glow over the garden.

"Oh, Pickle..." he murmured, his voice filled with a tender affection. The moment was perfect, a snapshot of pure, unblemished happiness, a day neither of you would ever forget. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[someonelol1872]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜, ''𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬''⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊... 真夜中のドアをたたき 帰らないでと泣いた あの季節が 今 目の前 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊... 口ぐせを言いながら 二人の瞬間を抱いて まだ忘れず 大事にしていた -Miki Matsubara, Stay With Me ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Isaac stood in the kitchen, surrounded by an array of colorful ingredients and exotic spices, each contributing to a symphony of aromas that filled the air with anticipation. He was meticulously preparing a selection of traditional Japanese dishes, and the enticing scents of simmering broths and sizzling vegetables created a tantalizing atmosphere. The thought that his mother had likely taught him these recipes melted your heart, filling you with warmth and admiration.

Catching your eye with a brief, warm smile, Isaac's voice resonated with calm excitement. "Almost ready," he said, his eyes steady and focused. "I can't wait for you to try these."

You returned his smile, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest. "Everything smells amazing," you replied, stepping closer to the counter where he was working.

Isaac finished plating the dishes with careful precision. He then reached into a drawer and retrieved a pair of elegant chopsticks, handing them to you with a gentle gesture. You took them hesitantly, your fingers fumbling slightly as you tried to hold them correctly.

Noticing your uncertainty, Isaac stepped closer, his eyes softening with understanding. "Do you know how to use these?" he asked quietly, his voice a tender whisper.

You blushed, looking down at the chopsticks in your hand. "Not really," you admitted shyly. "I've never been able to get the hang of it."

Isaac's smile widened slightly, a subtle yet playful glint in his soft brown eyes. "Let me show you," he said, reaching out to take your hand. Positioning himself behind you, his body radiated warmth and a sense of calm, making you feel enveloped in his presence.

Gently, he wrapped his hand around yours, guiding your fingers into the correct position on the chopsticks. His touch was firm yet tender, his movements patient as he demonstrated the technique. "Just like this," he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart raced, a blend of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Isaac's presence was comforting, his touch reassuring as he guided your hand. Slowly, you began to mimic his movements, the chopsticks starting to feel more natural in your grip.

"See? You've got it," Isaac whispered, his lips close to your ear. His voice was a soothing balm, filled with affection and encouragement.

You turned your head slightly, catching his gaze. "Thank you," you said softly, your voice imbued with gratitude and a hint of lingering shyness.

Isaac's eyes held yours, a tender expression illuminating their depths. "Anything for you," he replied, his voice a gentle caress that wrapped around your heart.

Leaning back slightly, you felt the solid comfort of his body behind you. With newfound confidence, you picked up a piece of sushi using the chopsticks, holding it up triumphantly. Isaac's smile broadened, his pride evident in his eyes.

As you tasted the sushi, the flavors burst in your mouth, a delightful explosion of taste that mirrored the emotions swirling in your heart. Isaac's hands still rested lightly on yours, his touch a constant reminder of his support and care.

In that moment, surrounded by the rich scents of the kitchen and the warmth of Isaac's embrace, you felt an overwhelming surge of affection for him. Turning your head, you kissed him softly, your lips conveying all the emotions words could not.

Isaac responded with equal tenderness, his hand gently cupping your face as he deepened the kiss. When you finally pulled away, you both wore matching smiles, your hearts beating in perfect harmony.

"Let's eat," Isaac said softly, his eyes twinkling with love and joy as you shared the meal he had so lovingly prepared, a meal his mother would have been proud of. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

[someonelol1872]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 "𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞''⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝕱𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖌, 𝕷𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊, 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗. 𝕬𝖑𝖑 𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖊. 𝕴𝖓 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘, 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊, 𝕴𝖓 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘, 𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 -Frank Sinatra, Fly Me To The Moon ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Isaac wandered into the living room, drawn by the intoxicating scent of fresh paint mingling with the soft, familiar notes of your favorite music playing in the background. He paused in the doorway, his breath catching at the sight of you. There you were, lost in your artistic world, clad in an old, oversized shirt splattered with a rainbow of colors. Your hair was a wild, beautiful mess.

You didn't notice him at first, your attention wholly absorbed by the canvas before you. The brush in your hand moved with fluid, graceful precision. Isaac felt a surge of affection, mingled with an intense desire to hold you close, to become part of this beautiful moment.

He stepped closer, his footsteps nearly silent on the polished wooden floor. It wasn't until he was almost right behind you that you sensed his presence. Turning, a radiant smile lit up your face when you saw him. "Hey..." you said softly, "What do you think?"

Isaac's eyes flickered to the painting for a brief moment, but they quickly returned to you, drinking you in. "It's beautiful," he said in his calm, measured tone, his gaze on you unwavering.

A soft blush spread across your cheeks as you turned back to your work. "You're not even looking at it properly," you teased gently, dipping your brush into a fresh, vibrant color.

Isaac moved closer, his presence a warm, comforting cocoon around you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder. "I am looking at something beautiful," he murmured, his voice a tender whisper against your ear.

You tried to turn your head to scold him, but he had a firm grip on you, gentle yet unyielding. "Isaac, you're going to make me mess up," you protested lightly, though your tone held no real annoyance, only affection.

He tightened his hold just a bit, "I can't help it," he said quietly, his voice filled with nothing but adoration. "You're simply too adorable."

You laughed softly, your body shaking slightly in his arms, "You're crazy," you said, though your tone was filled with tender affection and amusement.

Isaac turned you around gently, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter. "Crazy about you," he admitted, his expression serious, his eyes soft.

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with the same emotion. Leaning in, you kissed him softly, your lips warm and tender against his. Isaac felt his heart swell with overwhelming emotion, and he deepened the kiss, pulling you even closer, wanting to meld with you in this perfect moment.

When you finally broke apart, you rested your forehead against his chest, a contented sigh escaping your lips. "I love you," you murmured, the words a simple yet profound truth.

Isaac's lips curved into a rare, faint smile. "I love you more, Pickle," he whispered, his voice a gentle promise. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

[someonelol1872]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆''𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞?'' ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔪𝔢 𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔰𝔱, 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔰𝔱, 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔏𝔞 𝔙𝔦𝔢 𝔈𝔫 ℜ𝔬𝔰𝔢… -Édith Piaf, La Vie En Rose

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Isaac had always effortlessly embraced new concepts across a spectrum of subjects. However, when it came to French, an unexpected challenge loomed before him.

Seated together at the kitchen table, textbooks and notes sprawled like a patchwork quilt, Isaac's expression was one of unwavering concentration, his brow knit with determination. Despite his best efforts, his tongue would stumble over even the simplest of phrases. 

"Je m’appelle Isaac," you enunciated patiently, 

Isaac's frown deepened as he endeavored to replicate your pronunciation. "Je m… appelle… Is-sack."

A soft giggle escaped your lips, eyes alight with gentle amusement. "Non, non. In French, ‘Isaac’ is pronounced more like ‘Ee-zahk’. Let's try again."

"Je m’appelle Ee-zahk," he repeated, his delivery still awkward yet showing glimmers of improvement.

Your smile widened with encouragement. "Much better! Now, let’s tackle ‘Comment ça va?’"

"Commo sa va?" Isaac attempted, his accent betraying his efforts.

"Almost there," you reassured, placing a tender hand atop his. "It’s ‘coh-mah sa vah’. You’re making progress."

With a sigh, Isaac rubbed his temple, frustration palpable. "I’m dreadful at this. How do you make it seem so effortless?"

"Because French has been woven into the fabric of my life since childhood," you replied warmly. "And you're not dreadful. Learning a new language is akin to unraveling a tapestry, each thread revealing its own intricate pattern."

Drawing nearer, your gaze met his, with nothing but warmth and love in the depths of your eyes. "Besides, I find your efforts endearing."

His frustration momentarily assuaged by your words, Isaac met your gaze, finding refuge in your encouragement and affection. "You truly believe that?"

You nodded earnestly, a tender smile gracing your lips. "Absolutely. Moreover, teaching you brings me joy. It feels like we're nurturing something special together."

A gentle breeze of ease swept over Isaac as he returned your smile. "Okay, let’s give it another shot. ‘Comment ça va?’"

"Coh-mah sa vah," you reiterated,

"Coh-mah sa vah," he echoed, his pronunciation notably improved.

"Bravo!" you exclaimed, applause ringing like bells through the room. "See? You're already blossoming."

Isaac chuckled, relief and pride dancing in his eyes. "Thank you... Pickle, for... being so patient with me."

"Always," you affirmed softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss upon his cheek. "We'll have you speaking French fluently before you know it. And until then, I'll cherish every charming mispronunciation."

_____________________ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆_____________________