ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛɪᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ [xꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

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"Can you write something for Isabela with a girlfriend who's favorite flowers are ones with generally negative meanings? Like she wouldn't be sure if she should be giving someone she likes a flower that means contempt even if it is their favorite. P.S. Your writing is super good." ~ anon on Tumblr: sesamestreet47

Isabela Madrigal x fem!reader

she/her for the reader & she/her for Isa

fluff, a bit of spice, comfort, drabble, no plot

word count: 2570

!english isn't my first language, so there can be some grammar mistakes that I am sorry for in advance!

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"So beautiful, yet so evil," Y/N said quietly, studying the plant in her hand. "Quite poetic, huh?"

She turned her head to look down at Isabela. The girl smiled at Y/N. Lifting herself up to a sitting position, she wrapped her hands around Y/N's waist from behind and hugged her with one of her legs. Placing her chin on the other girl's shoulder, she also observed the flower.

"Quite," Isa agreed. She watched as Y/N stroked the petals of a little, fragile marigold. "But it's just a flower, mi vida."

Y/N sighed. "No... Flowers are more than just plants, Isa. It's like..." she paused, thinking of a way to put her thoughts into words and Isabela wondered how she could stop the time and take her focused look in. Such a pretty sight it was, her girlfriend lost in her own mind. Scrunched eyebrows, pursed lips, twitching nose. Isa could stare at her all day.

"It's like... Poems from mother nature." Y/N finished with a soft voice. Mindlessly, almost as if she was programmed like this, she placed her palm on top of Isabela's wrist and started caressing her skin. She leaned into her touch, her eyes still on the orange flower in her fingers.

"Amor, how do you come up with this stuff?" Isa chuckled lightly. Nuzzling her face in the crook of Y/N's head, she placed a soft kiss on her jaw. Y/N shrugged.

"Dunno... Maybe it's all the time spent around flowers," she said. "The smells mix and mess with my head. What if it got so bad that now I can communicate with plants? What have you done to me?"

Isabela laughed louder at her antics. This always amazed her. This particular trait of Y/N's. She had a way with words. She could think of a metaphor on the spot, she could take two random words and say them in a way that would make it seem they were meant to be said after one another from the start. Like words were pieces of a puzzle and only Y/N knew how to put them together so they could reveal a beautiful picture. But she also could find the words that would without a doubt make Isa laugh or at least roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of their meaning. Y/N was a poem from mother nature herself.

"So," Isabela diverted back to their previous conversation. "What's the poem written on this marigold's petals?" she asked with a bit of amusement in her voice.

Y/N knew that Isa already knew the meaning of the flower. She also knew that her girlfriend didn't really care about the answer as she started rubbing Y/N's sides and her lips were leaving marks on her neck. She just wanted to hear her voice again.

"Marigolds," Y/N started with a sudden rise in her voice. Like she was about to lecture someone. "The two-faced bastards of the flowers. The small, fragile plants may give the impression of being pretty and harmless when in reality their twisted, thin roots reach dark depths. Jealousy, grief, despair – and worst of all – cruelty flow through their stalks. Masking the wickedness with a sweet scent, they lure people into picking them up and making breathtaking bouquets."

𝕟𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕒 {𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤}Where stories live. Discover now