With Love Comes Magic
IsadoraCapri x Fem!Reader (established relationship, AU)
Warnings/Tags: Mom!IsadoraCapri x Mom!Reader, Romantic established relationship (marriedđ), Suggestive content (non-explicit), Domestic intimacy, Parenthood & young children, Mentions of nudity (non-graphic), Soft teasing and affectionate physical touch, Fluff and comfort, it's also long again... oops.
(Also y/n wears a dress in this because I stand firm in the belief that Isadora Capri would fall head over heels for a woman in a summer dress.)
The morning comes in gently, like it knows better than to rush them.
Sunlight filters through gauzy curtains, pale and warm, striping the bed in gold. The window is cracked just enough to let summer air drift in â fresh grass, distant water from the stream beyond the trees, something floral and wild.
Y/N is half-buried in sheets, one leg tangled with Isadoraâs, bare skin warm and relaxed in that delicious way that only comes after a rare, uninterrupted night of sleep.
Isadora is already awake.
She always is.
Her curls are loose and wild against the pillow, dark and soft, one ringed lock brushing Y/Nâs shoulder as she leans in. She presses her mouth to Y/Nâs skin â slow, unhurried kisses along her shoulder, her upper back, the curve of her neck. Not trying to wake her so much as remind her.
âMm,â Y/N hums, shifting closer on instinct, eyes still closed. âIsaâŚâ
Isadora smiles against her skin. âGood morning, sweetheart.â
She kisses her again, softer this time, then murmurs an estimate: âWe have an hour.â
That gets Y/Nâs eyes fluttering open.
âAn hour?â she asks sleepily, lips curving. âYouâre certain?â
âVery.â Isadora nudges her nose along Y/Nâs jaw, teasing. âLeo and Stella stayed up far too late stargazing with you last night. They wonât stir for a while.â
Y/N laughs quietly, rolling onto her back, sheets slipping lower in a way that makes Isadoraâs gaze darken â fond, appreciative, hungry in that slow, married way.
âWell,â Y/N says, voice still thick with sleep, âthat would be rude to waste.â
Isadora hums her agreement, leaning down to kiss her properly this time â unhurried, familiar, all warmth and promise. They trade lazy kisses, murmured teasing, Isadora whispering praise into Y/Nâs skin that makes her flush and bury her face in Isadoraâs neck.
The world is quiet. No feet pounding down the hall. No voices calling for breakfast.
Just them. Sheets. Sunlight. Love.
Until-
âMama!â
The door flies open.
Stella Capri stands there in her pajamas, curls a perfect mirror of Isadoraâs â chaotic, defiant, glorious â hands on her hips like sheâs caught them doing something deeply suspicious.
Isadora groans softly and rolls away, already sitting up. âGood morning, darling.â
Y/N squeaks, scrambling for the sheet, absolutely not decent enough to greet a toddler.
Stella squints. âMommy's naked.â
âThank you for the observation,â Isadora says mildly, already swinging her legs out of bed. âGo wash your hands. Iâll start breakfast.â
Stella beams. âPancakes?â
Isadora smiles. âYour favorite.â
Thatâs all it takes.
Stella is gone in a flash, feet thundering down the hall.
Y/N collapses back against the pillows, laughing. âThat was too close.â
Isadora leans down, kisses her once more â slow, lingering, meant only for her. âGet dressed, pretty girl. Iâll save you fruit.â
---
Y/N throws on the cotton shorts and tank top hanging off the chair, hair twisted into a messy bun thatâs already threatening rebellion. She pads down the hall barefoot, pausing when she hears laughter drifting from the kitchen.
Isadora and Stella.
The sound wraps around her chest, warm and grounding.
When she reaches the twin's room, she moves softly. Heâs curled in on himself, thumb near his mouth, lashes dark against his cheeks.
âHey, baby,â she whispers, sitting on the side of his bed. âMorning.â
He stirs, frowns, then reaches for her immediately.
âMommyâŚâ His voice is small, still half in dreams.
âIâve got you,â she murmurs, lifting him easily onto her hip. He tucks his face into her neck, heavy with sleep. âMamaâs making breakfast.â
âPancakes?â he asks, hopeful even through the fog.
She smiles. âWith strawberries.â
That does it.
By the time she carries him into the kitchen, Isadora looks up â and melts.
Her eyes soften at the sight of them: Y/N all rumpled and warm, Leo clinging to her like sheâs his anchor. Stella is already at the table, face smeared with batter somehow, curls bouncing as she chatters.
âGood morning, sweetheart,â Isadora says quietly, stepping close to press a kiss to Y/Nâs cheek. âGood morning, honey.â
Leo slides out of Y/Nâs arms the second he sees his plate.
Y/N and Isadora lean against the counter together, sharing a bowl of cut fruit. Isadora passes her tea without a word, steam curling between them.
âThank you,â Y/N murmurs, kissing her cheek in return.
Isadora tilts her head. âWhat do you want to do today?â
Y/N shrugs, sleepy smile tugging at her mouth. âJust want to be close to you.â
Isadora smirks, stepping closer. âFeeling soft after last night?â
Y/N laughs, nudging her. âIsa-â
They kiss anyway, quick and sweet, until-
âEwwww!â Stella groans. âThatâs gross!â
Isadora laughs. âOh? Is it, darling?â
âIâm sorry, baby,â Y/N says solemnly, teasingly, holding back her laugh.
Isadora wraps an arm around her waist. âCanât help it when your mommyâs so beautiful.â
She gives Y/N an exaggerated kiss, sealed with a mwah, just to make Stella squeal.
Worth it.
---
The day drifts by in pieces.
By late morning, everyone is finally dressed. The sun higher and bolder, heat settling into the ground like a held breath.
The four of them drift outside barefoot, the back door left wide open. Stella bolts ahead immediately, curls bouncing, shrieking something half-formed and delighted. Leo lags behind, crouching near the edge of the grass.
"Bug." He announces with deep concentration.
"A very important one?" Y/N asks, crouching beside him.
He nods. "I think he lives here."
"Well," Isadora says, slipping her hand into Y/N's as she stands back up, "we should be good guests then".
They wander through the field slowly, Y/N's dress brushing her thighs teasingly with every step. Isadora's fingers tighten around hers, thumb brushing her knuckles.
"You're enjoying yourself," Y/N murmurs, amused.
Isadora leans in, voice low. "You look unfairly beautiful in summer."
Y/N hums. "That sounded like a compliment."
"It was a warning," Isadora replies, eyes flicking deliberately to her hemline, pulling her closer by the small of her back. "You're distracting... dangerous."
Y/N laughs, swatting her. âBehave.â
âTrying.â
Ahead of them, Stella suddenly charges at Leo, who squeals and takes off running.
"Stella!" Isadora calls. "Darling- gentle!"
"I am gentle!" Stella yells back, running faster to catch up to him.
It's a good five seconds before Stella trips over herself, down into the grass.
There's a moment - too quiet - before both of them start crying. Stella more startled than hurt, Leo teary on her behalf.
Y/N is there first, hands quick and careful, brushing grass from Stella's curls. "Hey, hey- baby, I've got you."
Isadora drops beside them once gathering Leo in her arms, her presence steady and grounding. "Are you hurt?" She reached over, wiping a tear from Stella's cheeks.
Stella sniffles, collapsing dramatically into Y/Ns arms, small hands gripping her Mommy's necklace, "I didn't mean to."
"I know," Isadora murmurs softly.
Leo's lip wobbles. "She fell."
Isadora squeezes him close "and you're very sweet to worry."
"It was just a surprise," Y/N added, pressing a kiss to Stella's hairline, "You're okay though, aren't you baby?"
Stella looks up, big watery eyes, nodding, "Yes mommy â I'm okay Leo," turning to look at her brother before hiding her face in Y/N neck.
Within minutes, theyâre both quiet again â warm, clingy, exhausted in that specific midday way.
Isadora glances at the sky. "Lunch?"
Two small heads lift instantly in agreement.
---
Lunch is simple â cool fruit, little sandwiches cut into uneven shapes, water cups sweating onto the table. The kids grow slower with every bite, eyelids drooping.
Y/N watches them fondly. âNap time is going to be easy.â
Isadora smiles. âFamous last words.â
But it is easy.
And by the time the house is quiet again, Isadora sits at the piano bench and pats the space beside her. âCome here.â
Y/N does, leaning into her shoulder as Isadora plays gentle, wandering notes, Y/N trying to add to the melody.
âYouâre off-key,â Isadora murmurs.
âIâm... expressing myself,â Y/N replies.
Isadora chuckles. âAfter all these years, still hopeless.â
âSounds like a teaching issue.â
Isadoraâs voice drops. âAre you calling me a bad teacher?â
Y/Nâs breath hitches â but she rallies. âIâm saying the responsibility isnât always entirely on the student. It's shared.â
Isadora turns fully toward her, one hand sliding to Y/Nâs waist, thumb pressing gently into warm skin. âOh really.â
Y/N hums, leaning in, "really."
They kissâ
slow and unhurried, like theyâve got nowhere else to be. Isadoraâs mouth is warm, familiar, her hand firm at Y/Nâs waist, pulling her closer until Y/Nâs fingers slide up into her curls, tugging lightly.
Isadora makes a soft sound into the kiss, barely there.
Thenâ
âMama? Mommy?â Leo calls from upstairs, voice drifting down, sleepy and small
They pull back, foreheads touching, both smiling.
"I'll go," Y/N whispers, stealing one last kiss. "You stay."
---
Leo doesn't go back to sleep. Cranky but comforted quickly, curling into Y/Nâs side on the floor while they work on a jigsaw puzzle together.
âThis one?â he says, frowning.
âTry turning it,â Y/N suggests gently.
It fits. His face lights up.
When Isadora comes back from her shower â hair damp, curls tighter, t-shirt clinging slightly â she stops dead in the doorway.
Y/N is on the floor with both twins now.
Paint everywhere.
Stella is proudly holding up blue-stained hands. Leo has green smudges on his cheeks. Y/N has streaks across her arms, her hair, her face.
Isadoraâs heart does something ridiculous in her chest.
ââŚI left you alone for fifteen minutes,â she says faintly.
Y/N looks up, sheepish and glowing. âArt happened.â
Stella beams. âMommy let us be messy!â
Isadora crouches, brushing paint from Stellaâs cheeks. "I can see that, darling,â she says softly, smiling, âwhat did you make this time?â
---
By evening, the sofa is full.
Stella is curled tight against Y/Nâs side, fingers fisted in the fabric of her dress. Leo is tucked into Isadoraâs side, head resting against her shoulder, Isadoraâs arm secure around him.
Frozen plays softly.
âI miss winter,â Leo murmurs.
âI like summer,â Stella replies, thoughtful. âBut I like snow.â
âMommy,â Leo asks, eyes half-lidded, âcan we make Olaf when it snows?â
Y/N smiles. âOf course, but it won't snow for a while now, sorry baby.â
âCould make him.â Leo suggests.
"With Mama's white stuff." Stella adds.
Isadora frowns gently. âMy white what, darling?â
âThe nail balls,â Leo says helpfully, knowing his sister's mind.
Y/N laughs quietly. âWe can make Olaf tomorrow then.â
âTomorrow?â Stella perks up.
âYes,â Y/N looks down into Stella's eyes. âHow about we do a Frozen day?â
âOlaf?!â one asks.
âMovies?!â the other asks.
Y/N nods before smiling, looking at the twins excited faces. âAnd... snow cones?â
"Really?!" They both squeal happily.
Isadora doesnât speak right away.
She watches Y/N instead â the way she leans in instinctively, how the twins orbit her without thinking, how she turns an offhand suggestion into something that feels like a promise of magic. Something safe.
Then Isadora smiles, slow, fond, and unmistakably proud.
âWell,â she says, voice warm and certain, reaching out to smooth Leoâs hair before letting her hand rest briefly over Y/Nâs thigh, grounding and intimate, âif your Mommy says tomorrow is a Frozen day, then it is.â
Her gaze lifts to Y/Nâs face, softening even further. âSheâs very good at making the ordinary feel special. You two are very lucky. We all are.â
Y/Nâs breath catches â just a little.
Colour blooms across her cheeks, creeping up toward her ears. She ducks her head instinctively, embarrassed in that quiet, pleased way, lips curving despite herself.
âIsa,â she murmurs, half a laugh, half a protest.
Isadoraâs thumb presses lightly where her hand still rests, a silent I mean it.
The twins glow at the praise like itâs theirs too.
âBut,â Isadora adds gently, slipping back into her Mama voice, âFrozen days work best when everyone gets lots of sleep.â
Leo blinks slowly. âEarly bed?â
âMhm,â Isadora nods. âWeâll pause the movie here, get cozy in bed, and tomorrow we finish it together. Olaf, snow cones â all of it.â
Stella considers this very seriously, then sighs. âOkay⌠but only because itâs Frozen Day.â
Leo nods with solemn agreement. âTomorrow?â
âTomorrow,â Y/N echoes, still flushed, kissing Stellaâs temple as Isadora pulls Leo a little closer.
âPromise.â
---
Upstairs, the twins share a bed for stories.
Y/N sits wedged between them, back against the headboard, both warm bottles balanced carefully in her hands. Leo curls into her side immediately, small and instinctive, his head tucked beneath her chin as if heâs done it a thousand times before. Stella lies fully, feet resting in Isadoraâs lap where sheâs perched farther down the bed, knees bent, book open in her hands.
Itâs close. A little tangled. Perfect.
Isadora reads in her low, steady voice, each word measured, unhurried. It fills the room like a lullaby, smooth and grounding, and Y/N feels herself sag into it without meaning to. Her eyes grow heavy as she strokes Leoâs hair absentmindedly, thumb tracing slow circles at his temple.
Stellaâs toes flex once, twice, then go still against Isadoraâs thigh.
By the third page, Leoâs breathing evens out. By the last, Stellaâs lashes flutter once and settle.
Isadora closes the book softly.
For a moment, none of them move.
Then Isadora carefully shifts, rising just enough to lift Leo from Y/Nâs side. He stirs, a quiet sound of protest leaving his throat, but doesnât wake as Isadora carries him to his own bed across the room. She tucks him in with practiced ease, smoothing the blanket, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
Y/N leans down and kisses Stellaâs brow, lingering there a second longer, breathing her in.
They swap.
Isadora crosses the room to Stellaâs side, brushing curls back from her face, kissing her temple. Y/N mirrors her with Leo, soft and reverent.
As Isadora straightens, Stella stirs faintly.
âMamaâŚâ she murmurs, eyes still closed. âPiano tomorrow?â
Isadora smiles, brushing her thumb gently through those familiar curls. âFor you, anything.â
Stella hums, already drifting again.
At the door, Y/N reaches out and catches Isadoraâs hand, fingers lacing together without looking. They pause, turning back once more â two parents silhouetted in the doorway, hearts full to the brim.
Then Isadora closes the door softly, and the house settles around them - warm, safe, with love.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
My hearttttttt đĽš
I miss summer and baby sitting and yeah - this came naturally and AH I think I've officially melted... like Olaf đ
Oh and I chose the names Stella and Leo coz Isadora is a werewolf and it felt very fitting âđ
All likes, follows, comments, reblogs and requests are very much appreciated - I love hearing from you guys!
Much luv & thx!
bvnny đ
















