Isaac was the kind of person you couldn’t help but notice, even if he wasn’t trying. Tall and lean, his muscles subtly shaped under the loose fit of his hoodie, the inked art crawling along his arms peeking out when the sleeves shifted.

His pale blue eyes, so striking and cold at first glance, softened easily around you, though the dark circles beneath them betrayed his habits. Sleep was an afterthought, always pushed aside for one more match, one more stream. The headset perched lazily around his neck crackled with the chatter of his teammates, but his voice — deep, smooth, and sinfully addictive — always cut through the noise. His fans lived for it. Thousands tuned in night after night just to hear him, to watch him.

Isaac was cocky and flirtatious. But beneath the teasing and on-screen bravado, there was a part of him reserved only for you. A softer, quieter thread woven into the fabric of who he was. The part that cared, deeply, even if he rarely showed it the way others might.

You’d lost count of how many nights felt like this. Curled up somewhere nearby while he raided, your presence as natural to him as the keyboard under his fingers. You were his one exception. The one person who’d ever managed to slip past the walls he built, who’d seen both the cocky streamer and the man who couldn’t remember the last time he ate a real meal or got more than four hours of sleep.

And right now, he was deep in the zone. His voice smooth as silk, all confidence as he barked orders to his raid team, fingers flying over the keys in a flurry of perfect precision. You knew better than anyone that nothing short of a game crash could break his focus. But that never stopped you.

With a small, knowing smile, you climbed into his lap while he was in the middle of the raid, feeling the subtle tension in his body shift the moment you settled against him. His voice barely skipped a beat, but his free arm wrapped around you, pulling you in closer, as if you belonged there. Because to Isaac, you did.