You are literally my fav bllk writer ever i always look forward to your posts 👩❤️💋👩 (i need more isagi x reader👀👀👀👀👀)
"𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤"
a/n: thank you so much lovey!!! wrote this one just for you 🤍
ac goes to peachi.lyy
he’s locked in. like, actually gone. mentally on a different plane of existence.
isagi’s hunched over his laptop, eyes sharp, replaying the same clip for the eleventh time – pausing, rewinding, scribbling notes like his life depends on it. you don’t even think he’s blinked in the last minute. the room is quiet except for the faint sound of commentators and his pen tapping against the desk, and honestly? it’s starting to feel like you’re competing with a soccer match for his attention.
rude.
you sit on the bed behind him, watching him mutter under his breath, piecing together strategies like some kind of football mastermind, and yeah… it’s attractive. insanely attractive. but also?
he has not looked at you in, like… an hour.
unacceptable.
so you make a decision.
you quietly slide off the bed, padding over to him like you’re on a stealth mission, except you’re not subtle at all – you literally trip on the corner of the rug, catch yourself, and keep going like nothing happened.
he doesn’t notice. even worse.
“yoichi,” you say, testing.
“mm,” he hums, distracted, eyes not leaving the screen.
oh, it’s like that.
fine.
you come up behind him, lean down slightly, and then–
your arms wrap around his shoulders and chest, squeezing him tight as you press yourself against his back, cheek squished against his shoulder. no warning, no buildup, just full-force clingy girlfriend mode.
“hi,” you mumble, voice muffled.
he startles so hard he nearly drops his pen.
“wha–?!” he freezes, brain short-circuiting for a second before he registers you. “oh. hi, haha.”
you tighten your grip like you’re trying to fuse into him. “missed you.”
“i was right here though...”
“mentally? no.”
he exhales a soft laugh through his nose, shoulders relaxing under your hold. “i’m studying.”
“i know,” you mumble, nuzzling closer. “you’ve been studying something that’s not me for the past hour.”
“that’s not–” he pauses, then sighs, like he already knows arguing with you is a lost cause. “you’re being dramatic.”
you squeeze him harder in retaliation.
“okay, okay,” he huffs, one hand coming up to lightly hold your arm where it’s wrapped around him. not pushing you away. never pushing you away. “i get it.”
you don’t let go.
in fact, you somehow cling more.
your arms tighten, your weight leans into him, and now you’re basically draped over him like a human backpack.
“you’re heavy,” he complains, but there’s no bite to it.
“and you love me.”
“yeah… yeah i do.”
immediate. no hesitation. like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
you go quiet for a second, just holding him, cheek pressed against the warmth of his shoulder. his shirt smells like him – clean, a little like detergent, a little like something that’s just… isagi.
he shifts slightly, adjusting so you’re more comfortable, and his hand comes up to rest over yours, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles against your skin.
the game footage is still playing.
he doesn’t pause it.
but he’s not writing anymore either.
“… they’re weak on the left side,” he murmurs after a moment, like he’s thinking out loud again, but softer now. “if we pressure early, i can probably–”
“yoichi.”
“hm?”
“i love you.”
he goes quiet.
you feel it – the way he stills just a little, the way his fingers tighten around your hand.
“i love you, too,” he says, quieter than before.
and then, after a beat, he leans back just enough so his head lightly bumps against yours.
he still doesn’t tell you to let go.
if anything, he shifts again, just slightly, so you fit better against him.
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
