#Blue Lock Isagi Yoichi

[neeeooon]

slursagi (isagi hehe) x reader who’s the itoshi siblings’ younger sister, and she’s been dating isagi for a couple of months now and he’s always sneaking over at their house, but one day he gets caught by rin, who then calls sae over and isagi and reader try to come up with an excuse why he’s here but rin and sae don’t believe them, so they have to spill the beans :x

genre: fluff and crack? 👻

bro.. the req i got right after this was isagi sister x rin. FATE (thank you for the request!)

but he’s ugly!

isagi yoichi x itoshi sister!reader. fluff, crack

you felt isagi’s finger twitch anxiously beneath your hand and offered him a soft smile. “you don’t have to be so nervous. no one’s gonna catch us.”

“that’s what people say right before they get caught,” isagi grumbled, slipping his hand from beneath yours to knock on your wooden bedside table. “plus, you jinxed it.”

smiling, you reached forward to take his fist between your hands and pulled him back down to you. isagi’s ears were so red that the color seeped into his cheeks. you gently stroked a thumb across the colorful skin and. “would that be the worst thing in the world?”

apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. isagi’s head dipped defeatedly into the crook of your neck as he groaned. “yeah. not only is one of your brothers my literal rival in life, self-proclaimed, by the way. cause he hates me. but your other is a legend who is expecting a lot from me. if he finds out i’m in a relationship with his little sister, there will be no more isagi yoichi.”

your smile dipped, just slightly, and you helped push isagi back into a sitting position so you could face him properly.

“fine,” you sighed. “one day, we have to tell them. i want to be with the person i love without having to sneak around. but… i guess that day doesn’t have to be today.”

again, that was the wrong thing to say, but for another reason entirely. isagi’s face split with his grin as he leaned forward to kiss you heavily on the lips. “thank you, thank you,” he breathed between kisses, fingers twining around strands of your hair.

there was a ledge outside of your screen-less bedroom window, which was how your boyfriend got in and out when it was too risky for him to use the door. you were saying goodnight, pulling him in for one last kiss, when your bedroom door swung open.

“hey, y/n, how expired can toothpaste be—“ your brother looked up from the toothpaste tube in his hand, unprepared for the sight before him.

isagi paled. rin turned red. you threw your hands up like it’d do something, and while you wanted to explain that you were in love with isagi and ask your brother not to kill him, what came out of your mouth was, “don’t tell sae!”

too late. rin’s phone was already in his hand. “sae!” he screamed into the device as you lunged for it. “i just caught our sister sucking face with isagi! yes, the soccer one!”

he paused, listening to what your eldest brother had to say before holding the phone past you and toward your boyfriend. “he wants to talk to you,” rin scowled, venom seeping into his voice.

you tried to snatch the phone away, but rin threw it high enough that you couldn’t reach. it fell into isagi’s hands, and he shakily rose the device to his ear. “hello?”

“rin, you jerk!” you charged toward your brother, who darted from the room like the devil was on his heels. hell, with the steam coming from your ears, you felt like that was a pretty accurate description of yourself. halting in the doorway, you turned to face isagi instead of chasing after rin.

he stood, awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet, eyes rounded and uncomfortable. “yes, sir,” he repeated a few times into the phone at whatever sae was telling him. after the fourth “sir,” you marched over and snatched the phone out of your boyfriend’s hand.

“stop scaring him!” you scolded.

“oh, hello, sister,” sae greeted, his eerie calmness leaving you stammering for a reply.

“i… hi? what did you tell isagi?”

sae paused, hummed, then asked, “could you bring rin back in here and put me on speaker?”

oh god, you thought immediately. they’re gonna scare my boyfriend off. you nodded against the phone before remembering your brother couldn’t see you and yelled to rin that sae wanted him. rin materialized beside you, hovering over your shoulder like some sort of gossip-eating monster.

you clicked the speaker button and subtly slipped your hand into isagi’s.

“here’s the deal,” sae announced. “y/n, you like this boy?”

“yes,” you replied without an ounce of hesitation and shot a sweet smile at your boyfriend.

sae went on. “he’s talented. got a good future ahead of him… i approve.”

rin snatched the phone out of your hand as you buried yourself into isagi’s side. “but he’s ugly!” rin cried. you punched him in the arm and let out a loud, mocking laugh when he cried rather femininely.

“i agree, she could have picked someone with stronger physical appeal, but there’s worse out there.”

“my boyfriend is adorable, shut your faces!”

ignoring you and rin (who was blabbering about rivals and betrayal), sae continued with, “however,” and you both quieted yourselves to listen. “isagi. if you break her heart, my brother and i will hurt you in ways you could not begin to fathom.”

isagi gulped beside you and gave your hand a squeeze. “i don’t plan on it, sir.”

“and stop calling me sir, it’s weird.”

“yes s—sae.”

[eclipixels]

Hi, can I request a fic where Isagi and his/her children take care of their children who are sick for a few months?

Nestled

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: Isagi and you taking care of your sick baby

Wanings: Breastfeeding? Idk

[2,245 words]

      It starts with a cry.

      A small, broken whimper at first, barely audible over the hum of the baby monitor sitting on your nightstand. At first, you think it might be a dream, your sleep-addled brain too foggy to decipher the sound. But then it comes again, louder, more strained. That’s real. You sit up instantly, heart already in your throat.

      Beside you, Isagi stirs, brow furrowing in concern even before he’s fully awake. He’s always been a light sleeper since your daughter was born. “You heard that too, right?”

      “Yeah,” you whisper, already slipping out from beneath the covers and padding across the room.

      The nursery is dimly lit, moonlight spilling across the hardwood floors. Your daughter is bundled in her swaddle, face flushed, tiny fists waving helplessly. The cry is weaker now, more of a whine but there’s something about it that tightens your chest.

      You touch her forehead.

      Hot.

      Way too hot.

      “Yoichi,” you call over your shoulder, voice trembling slightly. “She’s burning up.”

      Within seconds, he’s behind you, his arms coming around you before his eyes land on her. “Shit,” he breathes, rubbing his face before crouching beside the crib. “She wasn’t like this earlier, right?”

      “No.” Your voice cracks a little. “She was fine at bedtime. Maybe a little fussy, but not like this.”

      You lift her gently into your arms, and she curls against your chest with a weak sound, her little cheek damp with sweat. Your mind races. Fever. Should you call someone? Wait it out? It’s only been a few months since she was born, but already you’ve memorized every tiny coo, every cry, every change in her expression. And this isn't usual.

      Isagi’s already checking his phone. “What’s the number for the after-hours pediatric nurse? I’ll call.”

      You watch him pace the hallway, phone pressed to his ear, voice hushed but anxious. His fingers twitch the way they do before a big match. You can tell he’s trying to stay calm for you and for her but his jaw is tense.

      You rock her slowly in your arms, murmuring nonsense, heart pounding. “Hey, baby,” you whisper. “It’s okay, Mama and daddy are here too. You’re okay.”

      She doesn’t settle. You try looking for the thermometer in her care basket, fumbling with turning it on before taking her temperature. You wait a few minutes, but those few minutes feel like forever until the object beeps and you read the number, confirming that she has a low grade fever.

      When Isagi returns, he presses a cool washcloth into your hand. “They said to monitor her and see if it gets worse. Meanwhile we can give her baby Tylenol. If she gets worse, we go to the ER.”

      You nod. It’s not a perfect answer, but it’s something.

      He gently takes her from you, and for a second, you hesitate, mother’s instinct screaming to keep her close but he cradles her just as tenderly, his blue eyes searching her face with that same wide-eyed reverence he had the day she was born.

      “I’ll go get the medicine,” you say, throat tight. “You stay with her.”

      Downstairs, the kitchen feels eerily quiet. You fumble through the cabinet, hands shaking, measuring the syrupy pink liquid with more precision than you ever gave any lab experiment in school. You heat a bottle, remembering she didn’t eat much at dinner.

      When you return, Isagi’s sitting in the rocking chair, her tiny body curled against his chest, his hand rubbing slow circles along her back.

      “She’s breathing a little easier,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “But she keeps clenching her fists.”

      You kneel beside them, offering the medicine. He holds her carefully while you ease the dropper into her mouth. She whines, but swallows.

      “Good job, pumpkin,” you murmur.

      You stay like that for hours. Switching off between rocking her and walking gentle laps around the room. Isagi hums under his breath a lullaby and you sit on the floor beside him, head resting against his knee.

      At one point, she dozes off on his chest, her fever slowly beginning to recede. Her body still warm, but no longer scalding. Her breaths grow steadier, more rhythmic. For a while, the two of you just watch her.

      “She’s so strong,” he says, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. You shake your head, laughing softly despite the heaviness in your chest.

      Eventually, as dawn begins to stain the horizon with soft pinks and golds, you settle on the couch, your baby nestled between the two of you, warm and finally sleeping. Isagi wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close. His other hand rests protectively over hers.

      The house is still, the kind of stillness that only comes after a long night, when even the furniture seems to breathe a little slower. The TV remote lies forgotten on the coffee table. A half-empty water bottle stands guard beside the baby thermometer. The lamp by the armchair glows softly, casting sleepy halos of light against the walls.

      Your daughter sighs in her sleep, a soft puff of air escaping her lips, and you both freeze as if the sound might crack her peace. But she just shifts slightly, her body curling inward, safe in the warmth between you.

      You tilt your head toward Isagi, eyes tracing the dark blue pieces of hair that fall over his forehead. His gaze is fixed on her, unmoving, unreadable. But you know him well enough to read the quiet tension in his shoulders.

      “You okay?” you ask gently.

      He doesn’t answer right away. Just keeps looking at her, like he’s still afraid she might disappear if he blinks too long.

      Then, quietly, “I hated not knowing what to do.”

      You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his. He squeezes yours like he needs to anchor himself to something real.

      “You did everything right,” you say, and you mean it. You mean it in the way he scrambled to find the after-hours nurse. In the way he held her when your arms gave out. In the way he didn’t once try to hide how scared he was.

      “I didn’t know it would feel like this,” he says, voice low. “Like... I’d give anything to trade places with her.”

      You rest your head against his shoulder. “Me too.”

      Silence falls again but it’s a different silence now. Full of everything you both felt but didn’t have time to say when her fever was rising and her cries wouldn’t stop. The what-ifs. The helplessness. The quiet desperation of praying for her fever to dip, her breathing to steady, for a sign you were doing enough.

      Isagi turns his head slightly, presses a kiss to your hair. “She’s going to be okay.”

      You nod against him. “Yeah.”

      His fingers brush your baby’s tiny knuckles, and you both fall into watching her again. Every shift of her little body, every soft sigh, feels like a miracle. Minutes blur. Morning arrives slowly. You hear the faint clatter of someone rolling out their trash bin on the street. The kettle in the kitchen clicks as it cools from when you heated water hours ago and never used it. Your phone buzzes once, a message from your mom, probably checking in, but neither of you moves to look.

      Eventually, Isagi speaks again, almost too quietly to hear. “You did a great job too, you know. You always do, way better than me. ”

      You glance up. He’s looking at you now. You snort softly. “I cried into the baby wipes like twenty minutes ago.”

      He smiles. It’s tired, but real. “Exactly. And then you kept going.”

      You don’t say anything right away. Just reach out and gently smooth your daughter’s blanket again, like your touch alone might keep her safe.

      “We both did,” you whisper.

      And in that simple truth, Not perfect but did your best.

      And as sunlight finally fills the room in full, golden and warm, you allow yourselves a moment to close your eyes. Wrapped around the tiny life you made, held together by sleepless love and the quiet promise of always no matter how long the night.

      You must’ve dozed off, though it’s hard to tell how long. Your head is heavy against Isagi’s shoulder, your back curled protectively toward your daughter. The weight of her tiny body on your chest is gone, only the faint imprint of her warmth lingers. For a brief, panicked second, your eyes shoot open.

      But then you see her snuggled safely against Isagi’s chest again, one of his large hands cupped behind her back like a second blanket. He’s whispering to her, words too low for you to hear. His eyes flick up when he feels you stir. “Sorry,” he whispers. “She started fussing again. I didn’t want to wake you.”

      You push yourself up slowly, feeling the dull ache in your neck and shoulders. “How is she?”

      He tilts his head. “Still warm, but nowhere near earlier. Her breathing’s steady. I think the fever’s on its way out.”

      Your whole body exhales. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding tension in your spine, in your jaw. It eases now like a wave rolling off your skin.

      “She looks better,” you murmur, brushing your fingers across her soft cheek. Her skin, though flushed, isn’t radiating heat anymore. Her lashes flutter, and she makes a sleepy little noise, one of those squeaky grunts you used to hear in the earliest weeks. It makes your heart squeeze.

      “I think she’s hungry,” Isagi says gently, looking at you with quiet concern. “Want me to get a bottle?”

      “No,” you say immediately, already reaching for her. “I’ve got her.”

      Isagi watches as you settle into the couch again, cradling your daughter close. You unclip the strap of your top and gently guide her to latch. Her little mouth finds you quickly instinctively, and her body relaxes almost instantly. You sigh, resting your head against the back of the couch as her warm weight settles into you again, her fingers curling against your skin.

      The minutes stretch.

      When she finishes, she unlatches with a little sigh, her cheek resting on your chest. You adjust your top and lift her gently to your shoulder, patting her back until she lets out a soft, sleepy burp. Isagi has one hand supporting her as you do it, his thumb brushing along her tiny spine.

      You both stay like that for a moment, the three of you tangled together in a messy, perfect heap of limbs and warmth.

      And then finally, you lay her in the bassinet beside the couch. She fusses for only a second before settling again, her lips parting, her body curling like a seahorse under her soft blanket.

      You watch her chest rise and fall, that peaceful rhythm anchoring you. She’s okay. Really okay.

      Isagi turns to you, eyes still soft. You look exhausted but there’s something else too. Affection under the surface of it all. He reaches for you, and you go easily, curling into his chest. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his lap without a second thought. You bury your face into his neck, the scent of his skin grounding you.

      “You did so well. M’so proud of you, love.” He whispered into your ear, reassuring you. His words meant a lot to you. Being a parent, there’s no one really there to watch and tell you if you’re doing a good job or not.

      “I lobeyu,” you grumble into his chest, the words melting together in a sleepy mumble as your body finally gives in to exhaustion.

      Isagi chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “What was that?” he teases, brushing your hair away from your face.

      But your head has already lolled against his shoulder, your breathing evening out. Limp. Completely out. The tension that gripped your body all night has finally drained from your limbs, leaving only the warmth of safety and sleep in its wake.

      Very carefully, he shifts beneath you, one arm tucked under your knees, the other behind your back. You stir slightly as he stands, but don’t wake. Your head finds its way to the crook of his neck again, instinctively.

      The hallway is quiet as he walks you both toward the bedroom. Your daughter is still asleep in her bassinet by the living room, wrapped up tight and safe. He pauses by her side for just a moment, eyes softening at the sight of her sleeping face before finally carrying you down the hall.

      He nudges the bedroom door open with his foot, navigating with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times. The early morning light spills through the window, casting soft gold over the rumpled blankets.

      Gently, he lowers you onto the bed, careful not to wake you. But just before he pulls away, your hand catches his shirt weakly.

      “Mmm… stay,” you mumble, eyes still closed, voice barely audible.

      He smiles. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

      He lies down beside you, pulling the blankets over both of you. You roll toward him, one arm draping across his chest, your cheek finding the space just over his heart. His fingers begin to trace light, lazy patterns on your back, slow and rhythmic. Soothing. Just like you’d done for your daughter hours earlier.

      “I love you too,” he whispers finally, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “So much.”

[megumismyhusband]

it was no secret that isagi yoichi was a beast on the field. his teammates knew it, his opponents feared it—but somehow, it had been a well-kept secret from you.

you’d always known isagi as your sweet, gentle boyfriend—the one who blushed when you complimented him, the one who held your hand like it was something precious, the one who stammered out shy confessions like he hadn’t already stolen your heart. so, when you decided to surprise him at practice, you expected that same isagi.

what you didn’t expect was this.

“are you fuckin’ kidding me?!” isagi’s voice rang out across the field, sharp and unforgiving. your eyes widened as you watched him glare at one of his teammates, his hands thrown up in exasperation. “what the hell was that pass supposed to be?! you trying to hand them the damn game? fuckin’ idiot, i’m gonna kill you!”

you froze.

this wasn’t the soft-spoken isagi who got flustered when you kissed his cheek. this was someone else entirely—someone whose presence dominated the field, whose intensity crackled in the air like a storm. he was pacing, his jaw clenched, his tone nothing short of ruthless.

“you wanna play like that? you might as well quit! i’m not babysitting your lazy ass out here!” his voice was fierce, relentless. “jesus christ, do you even care about winning, or are you just here to waste everyone’s goddamn time?! fucking useless!”

you didn’t know whether to be horrified or impressed.

the isagi in front of you was nothing like the one who shyly asked if you wanted to share his scarf on cold mornings. this isagi was a leader, a competitor, a force of nature that refused to accept anything less than victory. and damn, was it hot.

then, as if sensing your presence, isagi’s head suddenly snapped toward you. his sharp glare vanished instantly, replaced by wide eyes and a deep red blush creeping up his neck.

“u-uh…” he swallowed hard, visibly panicking. “you saw that?”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “oh, i definitely saw that.”

isagi rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you. “i-it’s just… the game, you know?”

you hummed, stepping closer until you could see the lingering frustration in his eyes—frustration that quickly melted when you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“i think i like both versions of you,” you teased, watching as his face turned impossibly red.

“…oh my god,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands. “you’re never letting this go, are you?”

you grinned. “not a chance.

[anglbunny]

dry humping ♡ isagi yoichi

cw: suggestive mdni, dry humping, virgin!reader, based on this ask

⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡

“You shouldn’t—ah—be doing this,” you whisper, but your fingers are curled in his shirt, pulling him closer anyway.

Isagi barely hears you.

He’s grinding against you with a frantic rhythm, hips moving like they’ve got a mind of their own. The thick press of him through his sweats is relentless, rubbing right against the thin fabric of your panties, soaking through with his frustration.

“I shouldn’t,” he pants, mouth dragging hot and messy down your throat, “but I can’t stop, can’t—fuck, you don’t get it. You’re driving me insane.”

He’s not even trying to be subtle. Every roll of his hips is rough, desperate, as if friction alone could save him. His voice cracks when he begs.

“Please, just let me. Just this once. I’ll be so good to you, promise—won’t hurt you. I’ll go slow, so slow. Please let me in. You’re so soft, so warm. I need you.”

His words are slurred with need, dripping with want.

You’re overwhelmed. Flushed, breathless, caught between protest and curiosity. You’ve never done this before—not like this—but the way he’s trembling, rutting against you like a man starved, makes your head spin.

“I… I don’t know if I can—”

“You can,” he groans, hips grinding harder, making you gasp. “You’re perfect. You’re made for this. For me.”

His hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt, not rough, but possessive. Like he’s claiming you, even through layers of clothes.

“I’ll take care of you. I’ll make it feel so good, you won’t ever wanna stop. Just—please. Let me in. Let me have you.”

And the worst part? The way your body’s reacting. Heat pools low in your belly, your hips lifting without your permission, meeting his desperate thrusts.

Your voice is barely a breath. “Isagi…”

That’s all he needs to hear.

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau

A/n: well... i couldn't do reqs today unfortunately, was rlly tired, sorry guys

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[unknownsvoid]

Isagi making love to you!!!

cw: fem reader! cringy asf but wtv. we move, we grove ig? very lazy and repetitive, but again, we move, we grove. idk man. just a bunch of commas... im a comma slut.

Isagi really missed you, like really fucking missed you. Blue lock has been biting him in the ass and all he wants is you. Just you.

That's why when he came home today, he immediately rushed towards you and wasted no time to kiss you, eventually leading up into a make-out sesh. However, it wasn't your usual sloppy, needy make-out sessions. This... this was passionate and slow, like he wanted to savour you, which he did, he really did. He really did need you so bad.

He didn't want to keep you waiting, slipping down onto his knees, pushing your panties to the side so he can pay attention to the sweet cunt he's been craving for ever so long. God, he missed this. It wasn't his usual frantic licks and his harsh sucks and thrusts. This time it was gradual. Still sloppy. Don't he'll ever give that that trait of his up any time soon, but it made a huge difference. Eating you out with so much passion, like he was happy to be here, happy to be between your thighs.

Caressing his thighs while swirling curling his tongue around your clit over and over again, and if that wasn't enough to make your head dizzy, his words were bound to make you cum. He pulled his head away, chuckling at your whine, "Shh, it's alright, baby. Give me a sec, yeah?" he said between huffs, moving one of his hands away from your thighs, pushing two of his fingers into your cunt while the other held your thigh open, keeping you nice and wide for you.

His fingers scissor you open before he curls them right up against your g-spot, causing you to jolt up into his hand. He holds you down in place, making sure you don't twitch any further. He moves his fingers in and out of you languidly, trying to drag as much pleasure out of you as humanly possible while murmuring praises into your ears, "Good girl, baby, you close?"

When you nod erratically, clenching your thighs around his hand. He helps you through your orgasms, drawing all your high out of you. He pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them clean on one of your thighs.

He slips himself out of his football shorts and boxers, before spreading your legs. You were expecting the usual harsh fucking that you both normally have, not that you were complaining. You were about to bend over when he pushing his hand onto your stomach, keeping you in the missionary position. He presses his tip against your dewy folds, using it to push them apart. He teases his tip against your fluttering hole, before looking up at you, "Don't wanna have sex t'night..."

He manages to slip out, his breath hitching as he inches his way into you, holding your thighs open once again, "Wanna make love with you..."

You swear your heart was going to explode at his words. The amount of times you guys have had sex and this was the only time you were blushing like a hopeless school girl around her crush, apart from the first time you two had sex of course...

He moves his hand up to hold your hand, while he thrusts his cock in and out of you. He wants you to feel good as possible, wants to feel loved, wants you to notice how much you mean to him. He watches every single expression that lingers on your face with a smile. He watches you convulse and he uses his other hand to grip onto your hip, "Easy, baby, goin' slow. M'right here. Not leaving you, ever."

The praises and the loving thrusts continue until you both were close, both of your clenching onto each other's hand like mad. He leans down to break a quick kiss into your lips before staring deep into your eyes, "You close? Gonna cum with me, baby? Yeah? Good fucking girl. Cum with me, baby." One more thrust and you both were moaning each other's name. Your arousal coating his cock meanwhile his was filling you up.

He pulls out of you and wraps his hands around you, "Missed you so much..."

get out there's gonna be a thunderstorm in my area and ima crash out. also i got so lazy at the end because im scared of the thunderstorm... too scared to make a damn proof read so i'll do it later... heh...

[k-aemi]

isagi yoichi ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ use your thighs baby.

thigh riding. no proofread.

yknow how isagi has a thing for thighs? he fucking loves yours. the way the plump flesh feels when he squeezes it makes him feel like hes in heaven. he dreams of them rubbing his cock until theyre coated in his cum <3

any chance he gets hed grab em, its like a stress reliever for him! but he thinks if he were to bring it up youd think of it as weird. you guys had sex, but he cant even ask about you using your thighs to make him cum?

but really, you just wanted to surprise him with a little gift for his birthday, you knew about his fantasy and it wasnt weird at all. youd just giggle at the fact he thought you would of judged him. hes so cute.

you decided to wear a pretty black laced stocking, feeling it would stir something inside of isagi when he comes back home from practice. you thought itd be up to his expectations.

isagi coming back home would be exhausted. a tiring day from practice and just seeing you would make his mood better. you always do when you comfort him with your sweet little kisses. but not this time, you would always come greet him at the door, where were you? probably taking a nap.

he sighs feeling disappointed, the weight of the next game coming up was on him and hes been needing some stress relieve lately. walking up towards the room you both shared, opening it was not was what he expected. hes met with you naked on the bed, with the only piece of clothing on you was the pretty black laced stockings that shaped your legs so well.

"hi baby, happy birthday!" you smiled cheekily at him, and he can only stare at you, mouth slightly agape as the duffle bag slowly shifted off his shoulder, making a thud as it hit the ground.

you can only giggle at him, his lack of response was everything you needed to know. walking up to him to give your sweet kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck with that seductive look. "wanna use my thighs?"

isagi lays naked on the bed, while you straddle on top of him. he can let out ragged breaths as he gets view of your ass and thighs rubbing his cock. the way his cockhead peeked from your soft flesh makes him even more stiff. your thighs feel so fucking good. and the sexy stockings made it even better.

"o-oh fuck baby." his cock throbs under your touch, biting his bottom lip. he cant describe how happy he is right now. this is probably the best birthday gift ever. you continue to rub your thighs onto him, just hearing the little groans eliciting from his lips made you satisfied. it was so cute how he let out those breathless whimpers.

he cant let this moment pass by, taking his phone out to record this. something for him to get off to if youre not around and he needs to see your sexy body. he dreamed of seeing your thighs rubbing his cock, it was much better than he imagined. god he wants this everyday.

the way you would occasionally squeeze his length elicit a moan from his lips. your babys the cutest you swear<3

he cant help but squish the soft flesh, slapping it occasionally, seeing the way it rebounded just makes him want to fuck you senseless. just a few more rubs, his cock is twitching intensely. you can feel it, the way his body tenses, hes close to coming.

"'ichi you g'na cum~?" your voice laced with honey makes him melt. its enough to make him cum.

"y-yes. please baby. love you s'much." you can only grin to yourself, knowing youre the one making him act this way.

"love you too baby."

and that was the final point, cumming so intensely, the hot liquid spraying all over your thighs, the sight that isagi so longed to see. he lets out such a cute moan while he threw is head back, his thighs quivering.

short fic for isagi because it is his birthday<3 we luv you ichi!!

[dvmbification]

" this one's for you !? " ft. isagi yoichi

ever since middle school, you had a best friend who stayed by your side up until now—and that boy was isagi yoichi, a diamond in the rough, who was so close from becoming the top striker of all time, who just needed a little push and polishing—so you gave him that first little push he needed.

"hurry up, yoichi! let me see!"

"are you serious? you know what this means, right!?" blue lock? it sounded genuine, so you cheered him on to participate in this somewhat legit project. "come on, you should go!" "alright, alright. but.." his sheepish grin slowly turned into pursed lips of doubt. "will I ever see you again?" what kind of question was that? "obviously! i'll see you on the other side." you wink at your best friend, smiling as wide as you could.

the loud booming voice from the speakers announces the next player of the blue lock eleven.

"and #11!" his name is called, and your attention was caught, interest piqued. it's him—your best friend—the boy you've been waiting to see again since early highschool. he enters the stadium, taking the view of over thousands of people in the crowd surrounding him, hoping you were in it, watching him closely—and watching him closely you were.

the game felt long, like, really long. on the edge of your seat, you were kept on your toes, fully invested in the last few minutes of the game.

this is it—the clock was ticking, one more goal from the team you were rooting for with all your heart—the blue lock eleven—and they would break the tie with U20. but who would score the winning goal? the itoshi brothers battling to the death to take the ball for themselves was all you were focused on.. one last goal..

and in the blink of an eye, your childhood best friend, isagi yoichi, the same boy you pushed forward since middle school to become the greatest striker in the world—had somehow been keeping his eyes on the ball this entire time, foreseeing the future before him and where it would land—in this case, right where he wants it to be—taking his only chance to score a goal. and with a stroke of luck..

he scores.

3-4. holy shit.

"and with a devastating direct shot, #11, isagi yoichi—has brought the blue lock eleven to victory!" you scream louder than anyone near you, and while you received a few looks of worry or second hand embarrassment, you couldn't care less. he just scored! the crowd applauses, chanting his name—similarly to his teammates, who quickly gathered around him, celebrating their victory as a team. after a while, isagi was dragged into an interview—being broadcasted on television, and the huge jumbotron in the stadium.

"here he is, everyone! the blue lock eleven's isagi yoichi, who scored that dramatic winning goal! we would love to hear your impressions, now that the game is over." isagi's eyes wander around, just realizing the pressure being put on him at the moment. he rubs his thumbs together, palms growing clammier than ever. "i—uh." you giggle a bit at him choking on his words, bringing your hand to cover up your snickering.

"i.. i'm.. happy. super happy." he feels a pang of embarrassment strike through him, but that's what you get for giving such a pathetic answer—it was cute, though. "we've observed that you have the chance to become the U20 representative today," he gulps, awaiting the interviewer to continue his sentence. "what are you looking forward to next?"

you could notice the way he straightened his back, strengthening his stance. "..win." you almost burst out laughing, but anticipate his full answer. "the blue lock eleven.. will win the world cup. all of us—no, that's not right." the world feels quiet at this very moment.

"i.. will bring japan a U20 world cup victory."

and the crowd roars.

"what a bold statement from blue lock's hero!" "now, isagi yoichi, who would you like to thank especially for the person you are today?" his eyes light up at the thought of you. you, the girl he hadn’t seen with his bare eyes since long ago.. he could envision you in his mind, smiling as wide as you could.

"i'd like to give my thanks to my parents, who have supported my dream of becoming the greatest striker in the world.." isagi's hand finds itself rubbing the back of his neck. "my teammates and opponents, who have shaped me into the player i am right now.." he looks around him to search for the girl he's missed oh so dearly in the crowd who was carefully watching him and his words. "and the love of my life. my best friend, who gave me that final push into joining blue lock—if it weren't for her.." and at that moment, you swore your eyes met each other. you stared deeply into his eyes, full of yearning for you, to see you once again. i might cry, you think, as thin lines of your tears cascade down your cheeks.

"i wouldn't be here in the first place." it feels like time had come to a stop. he finally finds who he was looking for, you, in the crowd. directly looking at you, he smiles as wide as he could.

© dvmbification ( formerly dumbification ) . do not repost or recycle my work.

[str4ngr]

kiss it better. [ isagi yoichi ]

cw: fluff, established relationship, slight ooc maybe, gn! reader. notes: i was nice and did a fluff.

"your face is not sore, yoichi."

you let out a muffled yawn, lazily turning to meet his gaze. your bodies lay together, wrapped up in each other limbs and drowning in the sea of white duvet.

"and how do you know?"

you scoff as he leans closer, noses brushing against each other as smiles crack your sleepy faces. you laugh lightly, playfully pushing his shoulder as his arms wraps around your waist. isagi pulls you closer, whining like a pup who wasn't fed,

"c'mon... just one..."

laughing, you reject his proposal again, even as he squeezes your waist and groans dramatically. you grin at him, you cheek lay pressed against his arm that cushioned your head, a sight isagi found utterly heartwarming on the few mornings he was lucky enough to wake up beside you. though even with such affectionate warmth, his heart still stung, throbbing with the memory of your impending separation. only today, he reminded himself.

he pouted, pressing his face forward, lips diving towards yours. when you pulled back, his hand flattened across the plane between your shoulder blades to hold you in place as his lips met yours.

he was so gentle. lips brushing against yours like a dance of delicate feathers, of precious love that could be easily fractured by one rough grain. adoration and trust as your saliva mingled with his, spreading across his tongue as you breathed,

"yoichi."

he chuckled breathily, pressing his forehead to yours as he kept his eyes closed. isagi hummed, not daring to speak after, rather drowning himself in the softness of your affection as your hands roamed his back, soothing his muscles. his hands did the same, holding you like a treasure under his roughened palms.

he pulled the blanket up closer, tucking you both back in beneath the wrinkled sheets, "let's go back to sleep." he offered, running his fingers through your hair. his navy eyes bore into yours, heavy lakes of blue adoration as they sunk closer to yours, lips parting in sweet devotion.

placing one last kiss to your cheek, he pulls you closer, tucking you away into his chest, hiding his prize from prying eyes. the hexagon building he had been trapped in for so long was cold, lonely, but in your arms, he felt anything but that. his legs were sore and tired, shoulder aching from brutal workouts, head thumping from so much thinking. yet, finally, when he gets to melt back into your arms, isagi lets out the softest sigh, satisfaction riddling his body.

"i don't wanna fall back asleep." you confess, still nestled into his chest, "today's the only day i get to spend with you." isagi smiles at your soft pleading, his heart aching when he remembers tomorrow won't be the same, petting your hair. he grins lazily, jesting,

"we could... if only you kissed all my soreness away..."

isagi whines dramatically, again, continuing to lament about the alleged soreness that lingered on his lips. rolling your eyes, laughter broke out between you when your eyes met, crinkled with smiles, a shake of your head as you leaned closer,

"yeah, yeah..."

notes: awee sucha a cutie.

[the-lazyyy-artist]

too busy being yours isagi yoichi x fem!reader

Synopsis: if you asked him if he regrets losing you, he'd answer it a little too late.

Tags and Theme: angst, drabble, based on Hozier's cover of Do I Wanna Know, yearning, regret, Isagi being not so good at relationships

Author's Notes: welcome to the angsty story born from Hozier's soft and wonderful cover of a slightly toxic and bitter song by Arctic Monkeys. I hope you enjoy. As always, reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated!

Photo cap from Jules et Jim (1962)

If you ask him what breathing is like, he'll tell you it's the first time he met her.

Because right now, he felt like he hadn't been breathing until he saw a glimpse of you, a year after losing you. He didn't expect to see you in the crowd, smiling at him when your eyes met for the first time in a long time. He thought he'd never see you again.

Your damn smile takes him back to the days when you two were still happy until you weren't.

It was a little too late for him to realize it. You were out the door, and he was a mess. As much as Isagi Yoichi was the most reliable, perceptive, and adaptable person on the field, crushing opponents with his tremendous skill and vision, he never brought those characteristics to a relationship. He was always a day late to an anniversary, an hour late for a restaurant reservation, a thought late before he spoke, and a step short of keeping you from leaving.

He always knew you were the one. You were so supportive of him, understanding, always there to listen when he recalled his games even if you saw the whole thing on the field, and so loving. He always thought you'd never run out of love with how you took care of him, lifted him when he overthought, held him as you sang him praises after every game, or even just did something as simple as opening a jar for you.

His heart always yearned for you after you left, just a phone call away from pouring his heart out after a tiring day, always just a text message away from asking where you were, always just there, so close. How could he lose you? You were the only one that held him together when the sport he's passionate about tore him apart as he moved to improve. How could he be so blind to how unhappy you were back then?

And now, here you were, smiling and singing praises again. He missed you so much that he held you, still sweaty and breathless from the game, asking you if you saw his goal and if you enjoyed the game, to which you answered yes. He wanted to ask if you missed him. He wanted to ask if he could try again with you. He wanted you back so bad. So when you pulled away, you smiled at him and said, "Isagi, this will be the last time you'll ever see me. I'm moving away."

"Goodbye, and I still love you... but that doesn't mean I want to try again."

And as always, he was too late as Isagi watched you walk out of the stadium and out of his life once again.

[fumiscripts]

✦ I'M NOT YOURS

✦ one shot ,, yoichi isagi x f!reader.

✦ content:: you— a corporate worker— suffer being head over heels for isagi yoichi— a pro soccer player.

for @shrii-kk, angst/hurt/no comfort, 603 words

additional: reader FUMBLES big time, author's first time writing angst w no happy ending, author does NOT have experience in romance, no beta we die like my motivation

You didn't know how. 

You just fell in love.

Isagi Yoichi is a very likeable person. So how could you not fall for him? He's kind, friendly, everything sweet. You witnessed it firsthand, knowing him since all the way back when both of you were children. You've been in each other's lives longer than you haven't, it's a type of friendship a lot of people want.

But that friendship is killing you. Being just friends is killing you.

You try and fail to get rid of these consuming feelings, knowing you can't have him. It'd be selfish of you, weighing him down when he's set on achieving his dreams. Would he, a professional soccer player, spare his time for a relationship with a forgettable nobody like you? He could do so much better.

How selfish of you, wishing he'd be yours.

You distanced yourself— to not fall harder than you already have— you know you can't have him. First, you stopped contacting him as often, and then you tried not to cling to him, tried not to hang onto his every word like it was your lifeline. It was difficult to let go, especially when he was your reason to keep going, your reason to live. But you had to do it. You can't keep being a burden. The weight of a relationship could hold him back.

Hours turned to days of no contact, to the point that you found your last conversation to be weeks ago. You could tell he was concerned. Each digital letter spelled it out. Alas, you brushed it off, saying you were busy. With his hectic schedule and you purposefully avoiding him, that connection that was tightly bound started to drift apart.

You ignored the heavy mix of feelings consuming you like wildfire. You needed to let him go.

The quest to distance yourself was successful.

It's been months, and you've convinced yourself that you got over him. You haven't interacted in a long while, so you shouldn't feel anything towards him, right?

So then why did your chest tighten at seeing those dark locks once again?

Isagi looked as surprised as you. After seasons of no contact, he was finally able to see you again— in an airport, walking across each other— the both of you were about to board on your flights to somewhere, a different location from the other. He called your name, it left nostalgic taste on his tongue.

You stared in silence. All the things you wanted to say, and all the things you shouldn't were stuck in your throat. So you settled for a simple nod of acknowledgement, forcing out a casual reply, one that held no trace of all the brewing emotions threatening to overflow within you. “How are you?” you asked, attempting to prompt a conversation for who knows what. Maybe you were desperate for some semblance of interaction, you hated that you missed him. You weren't supposed to.

He looks away, eyes flickering to somewhere else. “Haha, I'm doing fine. I got tournaments to win, games to play, planes to catch…” Isagi trails off, awkwardly fiddling with his hand. There, you spotted a glimpse of it— a golden jewelry adorning his ring finger— it caught the artificial lights of the bulbs above, and your gaze lingered onto it for a second longer than you'd like, the image burning into your mind.

It appears that the articles of him dating some big-shot star weren't just rumors. Hell, they were even engaged.

He's slipped through your fingers, and you let him go.

You weren't his. He wasn't yours.

(a/n):: mb for this writing slop ruejwhiw

taglist (ask to be added):: @tired-xyra-urstruly @fishii-writes @rini-rushed @rinitoshiplzdateme

@luzmilun @motchilyn

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[aesterblaster]

If you're in a relationship with Isagi you have to accept some things about him, and in turn some things about yourself. He WILL start to affect your day to day vocabulary until you're referencing "flow state" and "devoring" unironically. He will get strangely competitive and emotional over random things and you will have to give him consolation kisses after he doesn't win an arcade game. He will look into your eyes and ask you what makes you passionate, what drives you insane...and you better be ready to answer. If not, he'll just show you all the dark parts you think you've hidden away himself. Isagi Yoichi has a tendency for loving things with a monstrous side. You're no exception. You're no angel, and he'll tell you that to your face right after kissing it.

[neeeooon]

Hiiii . I really love your work . Could you please do one with Rin , Kaiser , isagi and anyone you like in which there are rumours of the boys with models and the entire social media thinks is full of these rumours so the s/o feels insecure . You don’t have to if you don’t want to ☺️

oh the drama!! my fave lol TYSM FOR THE REQUEST 🫶🫶

when he has dating rumors with someone who isn’t you

famous bf bllk x insecure gn!reader. slight angst, most fluff

itoshi rin

-> you honestly didn’t think rin would ever find himself in a dating rumor with someone else. rin. your emotionally and socially constipated boyfriend

-> yet when the article comes out, despite how weak the “evidence” is (rin and a model looking at each other for 0.2 seconds at an event), you start doubting yourself. you didn’t mean to overthink, and you’d typically ignore it, but the person he was being shipped with was a professional model

-> “babe?” “hm?” “do you think she’s pretty?” you show him the models picture and he squints at it. “no. who even is that?” “… the model?” “what model?” “the one you’re getting heavily shipping with online?” “what does that even mean?”

-> you forgot how much your boyfriend avoids social media. for some reason, that makes you much happier. “well, good. if you ever see her in public, run away!” “uh, okay? why’d you ask what i think of her?” “oh, no reason…” “.. you’re the only person i find pretty, y/n.” “🤭”

michael kaiser

-> you ignore them at first, but it was getting more and more frustrating, especially when your boyfriend didn’t even seem to care

-> you know kaiser is pretty. you know he’s talented, and you know he likes to flirt. you don’t like other people knowing and complimenting him with flushed cheeks and fluttering lashes, especially when those other people are models and actors

-> when you finally asked him about it, he thought you were only joking and laughed it off. “yeah, because i’m dating someone behind the scenes. it’s just how i interact with people. if they think i’m flirting, that’s their fault.” you aren’t pleased with his response and give him the silent treatment the rest of the night

-> “y/n,” he whispers by your ear the next morning, and you roll over to glare at him. his playful grin falls when he sees dried tears on your cheeks. “i’m not cheating on you. you know that, don’t you?” “i don’t know. i don’t like that you can knowingly lead all these gorgeous people on in public like it’s nothing…”

-> “it is nothing, hey,” he gently tilts your chin in his direction when you try to turn away. “i promise, it’s nothing. it’s all an act for the media, y/n, i promise. i only love you. i have only loved and will only ever love you. i swear it.”

isagi yoichi

-> “i didn’t do anything, i swear!” he starts pleading before you even have a chance to read the article. a model was spotted wearing a necklace extremely similar to the one you gave your boyfriend, the one he never takes off

-> except, you took it to the cleaners a few days ago and hadn’t had the time to pick it up. in those days without it, some random model happened to get one just like it, thus starting rumors

-> you laughed at your boyfriend’s frantic expression and smushed his face between your hands. “it’s sweet to see you all flustered, but don’t worry. i picked your necklace up this morning while you were at practice.” you didn’t like how people online were already shipping them, but at least he was here, begging in front of you, instead of with her

-> isagi practically crumpled in relief. “babe, when i tell you a broke so many speeding laws to get here so you wouldn’t think they were true. you know i’m gonna marry you someday, right?” “yeah, well, you better..” but now he’s the one laughing at your flushed cheeks

[eclipixels]

AAAAHHHH TSYMMMM FOR THIS

OKOK I HAVE ANOTHER ONE 😓

[ProPlayer!Isagi] x [Ex-(Top)Idol!Reader](Bcs they both r gonna get asked for autographs🤞🤞) (Ex bcs she took a reaally looong break from her career since she got married to Yoichi, also bcs they moved to germany, but she's fine w/ that :D)

Soooo they had a baby son,, andd now that he's old enough to be on a plane, they're going back to japan bcs their families have been wanting to see their son with a burning passion (a very intense burning passion, actually)

Anddd when they boarded, one of the hostesses were playing with their son, keeping him entertained as reader and Yoichi settled down (their son was crying a lot) and thennnn when reader finally had the chance to be with her baby, he calmed down instantly

Basically Yoichi looking at her w/ affection, deep in love bc she is a ball of sunshine🤞🤞🤞🤞

Pls tell me this makes sense🥀💔

Coming Home

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: Coming back to Japan to have your parents and parent-in-laws meet your baby for the first time

[2,025 words]

      The hum of the Munich airport was a strange kind of white noise. Soft footsteps, intercom chimes in German and English, the occasional crackle of a coffee machine. Yoichi Isagi wasn’t used to being off the pitch and still breaking a sweat, but here he was, clutching a diaper bag, baby sling, and a folded stroller.

      And you stood beside him, rocking your infant son in your arms, humming gently under your breath.

      The melody was familiar. He didn’t catch it at first, but then it clicked. One of your songs. From the tail end of your idol days just before you’d announced your hiatus. Just before you’d disappeared from the stage, the spotlight, and the pages of glossy magazines all to build something quieter. Something more lasting.

      Isagi muttered something under his breath, scanning the departure board. You looked up from the bundle in your arms and smiled. “How long until boarding?”

      “Forty minutes.”

      “Time for a snack, maybe? He might need a change, too.”

      “Already changed him ten minutes ago.”

      “Well damn, I don’t know. Maybe he might need another.”

      Still, even like this, half-asleep and balancing a baby on your hip, Isagi thought you were beautiful. More than when you were dancing on glowing stages or flashing perfect smiles at cameras.

      You sat down near the gate and bounced your son gently in your lap, cooing softly when his tiny fists flailed toward your necklace. Isagi watched, heart swelling in that overwhelming, aching way he still hadn’t gotten used to.

      Then, a voice.

      “Excuse me? Yoichi Isagi, right?”

      He turned to see two teenage boys hovering awkwardly a few feet away. One held a soccer ball in a drawstring bag, the other gripped a worn photobook of you.

      “Yeah,” Isagi said, smiling warmly. “Hey.”

      “Oh my god, it’s really him,” one of them whispered, eyes wide. The other stammered something barely tangible to you, but you managed to catch them naming one of your albums.

      Isagi stepped in, signing the boy’s ball and politely asking if they wanted a photo. You handed the baby over to Isagi so you could sign the photo book, giggling at the old idol pics inside.

      “I was so extra,” you said, cringing slightly.

      “You were a legend,” the girl replied. “You still are.”

      As they walked off, flustered and beaming, Isagi slung his arm over your shoulder. When the boarding call came, you both rose slowly, gathering your things and trying to juggle the baby, bags, passports, and sanity all at once.

      First class was a blessing thanks to Isagi pro league contract and the miles he racked up traveling across Europe for matches. The hostess greeted you both warmly, her eyes flickering to the baby with practiced politeness.

      “Would you like assistance with your luggage?”

      “Actually,” you said, adjusting your grip on the now-fussy baby, “could you hold him just for a second? We need to get the bags into the overhead.”

      The attendant nodded and took your son gently. He started squirming immediately, his little face twisting with uncertainty as he was separated from you. Isagi rushed to store the carry-ons while you hurriedly folded the stroller. You moved with quiet urgency, but the baby’s little sniffles were turning into pre-cries. Once everything was secured, you reached for him instantly.

      “Come here, baby,” you murmured, taking him back into your arms.

      Almost immediately, he settled. Not all at once but his breathing slowed, his fists unclenched, and his eyes fluttered shut as he buried his face into your chest. You rocked gently on your heels, humming again without realizing it. The same old tune.

      Isagi turned around just in time to see you like that, standing in the soft first-class lighting, hair tucked behind your ears, your cardigan sleeve pushed up from where the baby had clutched it. Your expression was calm. Full of warmth. Every bit the woman he came home to after grueling matches. Every bit the woman who had chosen him.

      He sat beside you once you were buckled in, watching you in quiet awe.

      You finally looked at him. “What?”

      “You,” he said, voice hushed. “You’re just…”

      “Just?”

      He took a moment, then leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth.

      “You’re incredible.”

      You blinked at him, then smiled. “That’s the sleep deprivation talking.”

      “No,” he whispered. “That’s love.”

      You laughed softly, resting your head on his shoulder. The baby breathed evenly in your arms, small and safe. He squeezed your hand beneath the baby’s blanket.

      —

      The airplane engine faded beneath the landing announcement, and as the wheels touched down on Japanese soil, your chest swelled with something you hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t quite nostalgia and not quite homesickness either. It was more like a quiet, persistent warmth. A reminder that somewhere beyond the stretch of the runway, family was waiting. You shifted in your seat and looked down at your son, now fast asleep in your arms, his small face relaxed and peaceful despite the long flight. Isagi was beside you, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, exhaustion written in the way his shoulders sagged, but he turned to look at the two of you and smiled the moment your eyes met.

      "Back in Japan," he murmured, voice rough from disuse.

      You nodded, brushing a thumb over your son's soft cheek. "It feels like forever, doesn’t it?"

      He exhaled slowly and leaned his head back against the seat, gaze flicking to the window where the sky had turned a pale grey with the early morning light. "It does.”

      The process of disembarking was slower than usual. Traveling with a baby meant adjusting to a new rhythm, one where every step took longer and every action required a free hand you didn’t always have. Still, the two of you moved in quiet synchronicity, a kind of practiced dance that only came from months of shared parenting. Isagi carried the stroller and your bags while you held your son close, murmuring softly whenever he stirred.

      The walk through the terminal was a blur of quiet chatter, rolling suitcases, and the occasional stare from someone who recognized either of you. Some remembered Isagi from the recent league victories, others recognized you despite the absence of makeup and the simple jeans-and-hoodie ensemble. No one said anything, but a few people smiled in passing. You were grateful for the unspoken respect that surrounded your little family like a bubble, one that held even more tightly once you reached the arrival gates.

      Your mother was the first to spot you, her hands flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She moved past the crowd with urgency, almost tripping over her own feet in her hurry. Your father followed a few steps behind, trying to keep up while carrying a small paper bag of gifts. Isagi’s parents were just behind them, his mother holding a tissue already, his father unusually quiet as he stood off to the side, blinking too quickly.

      "Mom," you said softly, and that was all it took. She enveloped you in a hug, careful not to crush the baby between you, but her arms were trembling with emotion.

      "You’re here," she whispered. "You’re really here. Oh my god, let me see him."

      You pulled back gently and shifted so your mother could see her grandson’s face. Her expression crumbled entirely. She reached out but hesitated, looking to you for permission.

      You smiled and nodded. "Go ahead. He’s still waking up."

      She cradled him like something sacred, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. Your father moved beside her and peered down at his grandson with wide eyes. "He looks just like you did when you were a baby," he said. "Except with more hair."

      Isagi chuckled behind you, then turned as his mother reached for him. She hugged him tight, almost too tight, and whispered something into his ear that made his shoulders stiffen briefly. Whatever she said, he nodded and leaned into her a little more. His father offered a firm handshake that turned into a one-armed hug, brief but heartfelt. There was something unspoken in the way they looked at each other, something both proud and emotional.

      Introductions followed. Grandparents passed the baby around carefully, each pair marveling at how small he was, how warm, how perfect. You watched as Isagi stood beside his mother, one arm around her shoulders, smiling at the sight of his father holding the baby like he was afraid he might drop a glass sculpture. It hit you then, harder than it had on the flight. This was what you had left the stage for. Not just marriage or motherhood or peace, but this moment. This feeling. The way his family and yours came together around something so simple and so pure.

      Afterward, you all piled into two waiting vans and made your way toward his parents’ home, where you’d be staying for the first few nights. The drive was quiet, your son napping in your arms while you leaned against the window and watched the scenery roll by. Isagi’s hand rested on your knee, thumb brushing absent circles against the fabric of your jeans. He didn’t speak much, but you felt his gaze on you more than once, lingering in that way he did when words weren’t necessary.

      At the house, his mother had prepared a small spread of welcome food. Nothing extravagant, just miso soup, tamagoyaki, grilled fish, and rice with pickled vegetables. But it was warm and fragrant, and the taste of the rice alone made you feel like crying. Your son stayed in his baby lounger beside the table while everyone sat around and talked, asked questions, shared stories.

      You told his mother how he was already trying to roll over and how he liked being held upright against your chest while you danced in the kitchen. She smiled with wet eyes, her hands folded in her lap, and told you how Isagi used to cry whenever he wasn’t being held as a baby. His father added that he would scream whenever he saw a vacuum cleaner. You laughed, and Isagi turned a little pink.

      When the baby started to fuss again, you excused yourself and took him into the small guest room to nurse him and rock him gently. The sliding door clicked softly behind you, muffling the laughter in the kitchen. You settled into the chair beside the window, your son tucked into your arms, eyes fluttering with drowsy protest. Outside, the garden was quiet, sunlight slipping through the trees like a soft veil.

      A few minutes later, the door creaked open and Isagi stepped inside. He didn’t say anything at first, just walked over and knelt beside you. His eyes were warm and full, like he had been waiting to exhale all day.

      "You okay?" you asked.

      He nodded, resting his arms on your knee and looking up at you. "I just wanted to see you."

      You smiled, brushing your hand through his hair. "You’ve seen me all day."

      "So?" he murmured.

      You looked down at the baby, who was finally full and falling asleep again. His face was relaxed, mouth slightly open, one hand resting on your chest like it was his whole world. Your body was tired. Your hair needed washing. But in this moment, you were still the most beautiful person Isagi had ever seen.

      You blinked, breath catching a little. "I’m exhausted and half-functioning and worried he’s going to wake up screaming on the plane back."

      Isagi shook his head slowly. He leaned up, kissed your cheek, and then your temple, lingering there with his forehead against yours.

      "Marrying you was the best decision I ever made," he whispered.

      You laughed softly, closing your eyes and letting your fingers trail over his knuckles. He smiled, pulled your hand to his lips, and kissed your wedding ring.

      Outside, the wind rustled through the garden trees. Inside, in the still warmth of the room, your baby slept in your arms, and the man you loved watched you with the kind of affection that no crowd or spotlight could ever compete with.

[manias-wordcount]

A Proper New Year's Visit (Yoichi Isagi x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗵𝗼𝗼! 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟱 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱! 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆! 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗝𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀. 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲, 𝗲𝗺𝗮𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗸𝘂𝗷𝗶. 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗼 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱 (𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘆𝗯𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲)

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?  

Admittedly, having a famous boyfriend makes a lot of things very difficult. Including this.

Doing simple things like grocery shopping sometimes had to be a solo affair, lest you wanted to deal with the people in the story eyeing the guy dutifully trailing behind you in the baseball hat, face mask, and dark clothes. Going outside in general meant never being afforded the luxury of throwing something on that’s wrinkled, smelly, or stained- not even to get the mail. Because you know there’s always a chance that the one person who sees you when you step outside that day just so happens to have a professional camera around their neck and is employed at some well-known and money-hungry tabloid. And date nights? They had to happen at home unless you wanted to run the risk of whatever restaurant, attraction, park, etc. being potentially overrun with a small crowd that will stop at nothing for an autograph.

But you make do. You both do. 

When he’s off the practice field Yoichi likes to spend every moment with you. So that means groceries and picking the dry cleaning with a strong, scary-looking man trailing right behind you, who only manages to save himself from trouble due to that big, adorable-looking smile of his. But that also means that when date nights and family visits aren’t happening at home, the two of you do the best you can to keep things private for as long as possible. And hope of course that if he does get recognized, the people there have enough decency to allow you both some peace.

But that doesn’t happen all the time. And that’s something you’ve come to accept too.

So it’s no surprise that during your first visit to the shrine near your home of the new year, Yoichi gets recognized. It was bound to happen. He wasn’t wearing anything that could disguise him or shield his identity. In fact, it was his idea to go without. Just like it was his idea to get all dressed up for this visit as well. It’s been a while since he’s gotten the chance to see you in a kimono. And you’re sure it’s been far longer for you to have seen him in a kimono given house busy he is becoming the best striker in the world. Honestly, you consider it to be a miracle when you’re able to see him in something that isn’t athletic wear or some pajamas he threw on just to pass out on your bed.

But he wanted to do it. And by extension, you wanted to too. A new year, a new outlook on life. A new chance to make things better than they were before.

As if he didn’t already make your life absolutely perfect.

Still, there are some things you can go without. You can go without the small gathering of fans that started to trail behind the two of you from a distance they thought was safe once they realized that the great Yoichi Isagi was visiting the same shrine as they were. You can go without the occasional child staring and pointing as you both try to make your first offering and prayer to the shrine. You can go without the people who decide to peer over your shoulders and whisper about what type of omikuji the two of you will get, knowing that the most superstitious ones of them all will have nothing good to say about if you manage to get anything less than a great blessing. And you can certainly do without those who decide to secretly whip out their phones to record or just linger a little too long around you and your boyfriend as you go about writing your hopes and wishes and prayers for the year on your ema.

But you knew what you were signing up for. You knew what the future was going to hold as you watched him continue to progress. Moving closer and closer to his goal. Rising up the ranks in stardom. Becoming a better striker with every single day that passes. And you choose to stay with him. Every day, you choose to stay with him.

And as you start a new year, you can’t help but know deep in your heart that you’ll choose to stay with him every day of this year too. Just like you did last year. And the one before that. And the one before that too.

So you could do without all the attention and pointing and whispers from strangers. But you know it comes with the lifestyle. And you know it comes with being with Yoichi. 

Because at the end of the day, he’s still the Yoichi you know and love. And he’s still the boy that loves you. He’ll be protective, yet pacifying if he’s worried about someone getting a little too close. He’ll be sweet, yet firm when he tells the small crowd starting to form that he’d like to spend this time preparing for the new year with his significant other. In peace. But most of all? He’ll look at you. When the whole world is watching him, he’ll look at you. He’ll be looking for you and he’ll be looking at you. 

While you read your omikuji and he reads his. While you write your ema and he writes his. While you go to cleanse yourself. While you go to get mochi. While he has to stop for an occasion autograph or a picture with a fan. While he gets tugged in every direction by the sleeves of his kimono as people try to push past you to get to him. While all of that happens, he looks for you. He looks at you.

Because as far as he’s concerned, you’re part of his future. When his legs become tired and weary. When he can no longer move as fast as he wants to. When he’s become the best striker in the world. And then after that moment has come and gone, he wants you to be there. He wants you to be there every step of the way. He wants you to be there, by his side from now until he reaches the end of his goal. Because you have always been in his vision of the future. You have always been part of his future. You are his future.

And you know that. 

You know that because he tells you that every single day. You know that because he tells you that every single time the two of you go out. You know that because he tells you that every single time you come across a negative comment about yourself or your relationship. You know that because he makes sure with all his power and strength and ability that you know he loves you with a passion that only burns this brightly for soccer. Perhaps even more so.

But because you know that, putting up with all the troubles that come with a famous boyfriend comes a little bit easier for you. You’ve learned to deal with the attention. You’ve learned to deal with the crowds. The tabloids, the judgemental comments, the lack of privacy. It’s hard, but you’ve learned to deal with it. Because before he was famous, he was your boyfriend. And you were always on the sidelines. Cheering for him, rooting for him, looking for him. At every practice. At every game. At every event. At every chance.

So naturally, there’s a sense of satisfaction you feel after the two of you have finished hanging your emas up and decided to step away to indulge in another New Year's tradition. And that sense of satisfaction comes right after you hear the gasps of surprise from the nosy few that had the gall to follow you around instead of performing their own hastumode as they read your boyfriend’s ema and take in how he wishes for prosperity with you and soccer. Not just soccer. Not soccer and you.

But you and soccer.

But Yoichi doesn’t pay them any mind. He’s famous to them, but he’s still just the same boy you fell in love with all those years ago. The same boy who you choose to be with every single day. The same boy who only has eyes for you. And when you remember all that, having a famous boyfriend isn’t really that bad. 

Even when it doesn’t allow for the most proper New Year's visit.

[anglbunny]

mood change ♡ isagi yoichi

cw: smut mdni, mean isagi, degrading, based on this ask

⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡

You’d never seen him like that before.

Not your Isagi. Not the boy who kissed your forehead every morning, who helped you zip up your jacket, who looked at you like you were made of stars and porcelain.

But out there on the field?

He was something else entirely. Jaw clenched, eyes wild, barking insults like he wanted blood instead of goals. You’d heard him call someone a dumbass, seen him shove a guy off the ball with a snarl that didn’t belong on someone so good.

And it stayed with you. Echoed in your head long after the match ended.

So when you're curled up on the couch later, wearing one of his oversized jerseys and nothing else, you say it.

Half a tease, half a confession. “You’re… kinda hot when you’re angry.”

He freezes. Just for a second. Then slowly turns his head toward you.

“What?”

Your stomach flips.

“I mean, like—on the field. You’re usually all soft with me, but when you’re yelling and pissed off and calling people names—” You shrug, trying to sound casual. “It’s… hot.”

You don’t even get to blink before you’re under him.

His body pins yours to the couch, heavy, warm, eyes dark.

“You like that, huh?” he murmurs, voice low and dangerous, nothing like the sweet tone he usually uses on you. his demeanor instantly changed like someone flipped a switch in him. you stared up at him with wide doe eyes not knowing how to react“You like seeing me pissed?”

Your breath stutters. “I—”

Too late. He's usually high from adrenaline after a game but this is just completely different.

He grabs your thighs, spreads them rough and fast, dragging your panties to the side, hissing at the sight of your glistening pussy. "so fucking... messy" he groans, sliding his fingers up and down to ease you, your body trembling beneath him.

he pulls his sweats down below his cock, fisting it, keeping his eyes locked on you. you let out a needy moan when he prods his cock against your entrance, he smirks before pushing the tip in, watching your lips part, letting out the most delicious moan.

“You wanna see that side of me?” he grins against your neck, sliding inside in one hard thrust that knocks the breath out of your lungs. “Then take it.”

Your gasp turns into a moan, hands scrambling for something, anything, to hold onto as he fucks you with a pace that’s brutal, raw, unrelenting.

“This what you wanted?” he hisses in your ear. “You like when I treat you like a filthy little thing? Like a dumb slut who gets wet when I’m mean?”

Your answer is a choked whimper, back arching as he drives into you, every thrust slamming your thoughts out of your skull.

“Fuck—look at you,” he grits out, grabbing your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. “So desperate. So needy. You like being ruined by the me, huh?”

You’re soaking, trembling, eyes rolling back when he slaps your thigh and growls, “Say it. Say you like it when I’m mean to you.”

“I—I love it,” you cry, breathless, broken. “I love when you’re rough—please, don’t stop.”

He groans, hips stuttering, sweat dripping onto your skin as he ruts into you like he can’t get deep enough. His fingers dig into your hips, bruising, claiming.

“Good girl,” he pants, thrusts getting sloppy. “Fucking made for me.”

And as you fall apart under him, you realize something terrifyingly addictive:

You’ll never look at him the same way again.

bonus: post nut clarity when he's clinging to you like a lost dog, apologizing repeatedly for being so mean and calling you such harsh names. he's not letting you go, kissing you everywhere to apologize

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau

A/n: thank you for the request!! i loved this smm. i highkey could not imagine isagi being mean or degrading his gf but this is for educational purposes

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[sanb3rry]

pro player! isagi is the type of boyfriend to kneel down and tie your shoes or straps your heels for you.

pro player! isagi who massages you as he puts sunscreen on you at the beach, admiring your beauty.

pro player! isagi who takes the matching keychain the two of you bought on your first date to all his games as a good luck charm.

pro player! isagi who always makes sure to carry water, lip gloss or anything he thinks you might need whenever you two go out.

pro player! isagi who carries your bags while you're shopping and gives you his opinions on clothes or whatever it is you're buying when asked.

pro player! isagi who always opens doors for you no matter what, even if you two are fighting.

pro player! isagi who buys you flowers every week, he gets it delivered when hes on away games. he leaves little notes on them each week.

pro player! isagi who loves your kisses and can never get enough of them.

pro player! isagi who brags about you to his teammates and loves showing you off.

pro player! isagi who throws out insults to anyone who tries to insult or humiliate you or your relationship.

pro player! isagi who's quick to turn down anyone who tries hitting on him.

pro player! isagi who loves the domesticity of living with you.

pro player! isagi whose eyes always light up whenever an interviewer mentions you.

pro player! isagi who loves you with every fiber of his being.

© sanb3rry2023