ipodmax when f1 fans decide to make a crackship out of isack hadjar & ice skater yn ln it gets way too real.
pairings isack hadjar x ice skater!reader (alysa liu)
warnings cursing, threats(?), mentions of jumping off a bridge, yn is kinda a weirdo over text idk, ollie is a hater 💔.
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yourusername
♡ 825K 💬 35.1K ⌲
liked by amberglenniceskater, and others
yourusername hey 😼
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user MY GOD
user facecard blinded the fuck outta me
➥ user or was it the bright ass lighting 🤔
➥ user damn can we let it be both
user i have nothing appropriate to say
user yeah yeah cool do you like f1
user ONE CHANCE PLEASE
user do you perchance know who isack hadjar is
user so beautiful
user you x isack hadjar…
user MOVE ISACK
➥ user who the fuck is isack??
➥ user some dude people started shipping her with
➥ user “some dude” and it’s a whole ass f1 driver
user as an f1 fan & yn fan i’m crying at these comments LMAO
user i know yn looking at these comments hella confused
yourusername you’d be correct
isackhadjar
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isackhadjar Frustrating last 2 race weekends considering the speed… still a cool dump.
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user 644 MY SHAYLAS ❤️🩹❤️🩹
user here before all the yn x isack fans come
user right so do you know yn ln
user omg the meme guy
user he’s so cool wow
user yeah you and yn would fit PERFECTLY
user spreading the yn x isack propaganda
user all this yn x isack shit and nothing about isack playing uno with lewis 💔
user the shippers are starting to get weird.
messages — isack, kimi & ollie
isackhadjar has started following yourusername!
instagram dms
yourusername has started following isackhadjar!
yourusername
(a year later)
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yourusername 2025 was fun ;D!
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isackhadjar YOU SAID YOU WOULDNT POST THE 5TH ONE 💔
➥ yourusername i am a chronic liar ❤️🩹
user i didn’t know that this was happening…
user GIRL WHATTT
user ALL THE NON BELIEVERS CAN SUCK IT YESSS
olliebearman no way bruh
➥ isackhadjar AND YOU SAID SHE WAS OUT OF MY LEAGUE LOSER
➥ olliebearman i’m so mad rn
➥ user because he got yn 🤔??
➥ olliebearman NO BECAUSE I WAS WRONG.
user can’t believe the people of twitter were right
kimi.antonelli WHAT WOULD YOU BE WITHOUT ME
➥ yourusername wuh
➥ isackhadjar KIMI HUSH
➥ kimi.antonelli i got him to dm you so i’m basically your matchmaker
➥ yourusername wowww isack so you didn’t even dm me because you wanted too i see how it is
➥ isackhadjar NO BABE PLEASE 💔
➥ isackhadjar kimi you will perish.
➥ kimi.antonelli gulp
key’s notes. yall this fic is so long i used up all the space for pictures LMAOO 😭😭!!! i can’t even put my divider on here. BUT HIII I’M BACKK!! SOOOO sorry this took so long it’s actually humiliating, i have no excuse. execute me 💔. isack fic to celebrate this new f1 szn!!! ignore the timeline lowkey everything before the last post is supposed to be set in 2025. i hope you all enjoy & as always constructive criticism is welcome <33!!
dedications (if you wish to be added or removed lmk!!) @rosiel-leclerc04 (IF YOU WERE THE OTHER PERSON WHO ASKED I CANT FIND YOUR USER FOR SHIT 💔 LET ME KNOW IF YOU’RE STILL THERE ICON)!!
you crocheted a bucket hat for your boyfriend, and he is obsessed with showing it off.
genres : fluff ... a bit more headcanony than the regular fic ... isack hadjar x fem!reader. request : anon!! word count : 431. warnings : none note : the way i ran to write this immediately it's SO CUTE UGHHHH. very short but i wasn't sure i could add much more to the idea skdks. ( masterlist ) ( taglist )
Isack is the type of boyfriend to be your biggest supporter in whatever it is you’re doing. Whether it’s your hobbies or hating on that one bitch from your high school years, your boyfriend is always right next to you. When you picked up crochet seriously and started making the cutest little stuffed animals, tops, and hats, Isack was in awe of how you could create such cute and functional pieces within hours with just 1 hook. It wasn't too long before you had perfected making bucket hats and surprised your boyfriend with one of his own.
It was a bit bigger than the one you had, but the designs were matching, and he quickly noted how you’d crocheted the letter 6 into one of the squares instead of the regular daisy. His heart melted right then and there.
You didn’t think it was such a big deal, as the hat only took a few days to make, and you enjoyed every second of it, knowing how adorable you both would look in the matching hats. But to Isack? The little bucket hat is now worth more to him than all the designer clothes in the world. And he could never leave the house without it. At first you’re a little embarrassed when he’s insistent on wearing it to the paddock, but there’s also no chance you would be able to convince him otherwise, so you’re forced to go along with it.
Every person attending the Miami grand prix who notes the different hat he’s wearing, compliments it, or even glances in the general direction of it is quickly hearing the same words fall out of his mouth.
“Isn’t it so adorable? My girlfriend made it for me. Isn’t she so talented?”
The fans, of course, are just as in love with it as he is, especially when the instagram posts come in. He takes a million pictures, the hat perfectly matching the bright pink VCARB gear special for Miami. It’s all over the team instagram, and his personal one too. He sneaks in a few couple pictures too— the need to show off the matching hats too strong.
Of course all the fans are screaming and crying over the photos; especially the one on the final slide of his personal post, where he's kissing your cheek mid smile. Out of all the drivers on the grid, Isack is one of the louder ones about his girlfriend. He doesn’t miss a chance to bring you up or boast about you, especially when he has the hat you made on his head.
Could you do Isack smut? He is a cocky college boy who gets a lot of girls but he's only a freshman or sophomore, and reader, who is a senior, laughs at his advances, because she thinks he's just a boy. But he keeps working her over, eventually showing off his big biceps and his other muscles and finally he gets her where he wants her, and he shows her how much of a "man" he really is. He has her get on her knees and makes her beg for the chance to worship him with long bj and lots and lots of boasting from Isack. :D
Not A Boy
Pairing: Isack Hadjar x reader
Warning: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), oral (f receiving), cringe... absolute cringe and isack has an ego.
Summary: Isack tries to prove that he isn't just a boy.
masterlist
He finds you outside the campus library, sunlight licking over your shoulders as you scroll through your phone.
You didn't even hear him at first, he never walks, he prowls, hands in his pockets, confidence rolling off him like heat off a asphalt.
“The prettiest senior girl all alone?” he murmurs behind you, voice warm with mischief. “i must be the luckiest junior.”
You turned around, slow and not unimpressed, giving him the kind of look you reserve for overeager first-years who think height and hormones equal experience. And he is tall...ish, and he is incredibly handsome, and he has that kind of lazy, arrogant smile of a boy who’s been handed way too many yeses.
But you’re definitely not one of them.
“Isack,” you sigh, already half-laughing. “Don’t you have a whole study group to flirt with?”
“Nope,” he grins, leaning his shoulder against the brick pillar as if settling in to enjoy you. “I’m only here for you.”
“You’re such a baby,” you say, just to watch him bristle, because he always does, and it’s kinda adorable.
He clicks his tongue. “A baby with better game than most of the boys you let take you out for overpriced drinks.”
Your eyes narrow.
He smirks like he’s already won, way to smug.
For days he kept at it, popping up in hallways, sliding into a seat next to you in the quad, tossing you one-liners dripping in charm he hasn’t quite earned yet.
You laugh him off every time.
But you notice him.
The way his shoulders have filled out.
The way he’s built like someone who doesn’t just go to the gym, he lives there.
The way his shirt always cling to biceps that look carved, veins running like silver threads beneath his skin.
You never comment.
He notices that you notice.
One afternoon he corners you in an empty classroom, not touching, never touching, but close enough that his presence pours over your skin in warm, electric waves.
“You keep looking..no staring at my arms,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “You know you can ask.”
“I wasn’t staring,” you lie.
“Sweetheart…” His laugh is deep and smug and far too sure of itself. “You think I don’t see everything?”
He flexes just a little, not enough to be obvious, but enough for the fabric of his shirt to pull tight over a bicep that looks far from boyish.
You swallow before you can stop yourself.
His eyes darken, triumphant.
“You still think I’m just a kid?” he asks, voice dropping, warm and rough at the edges. “Because I promise you… I’m not.”
He steps closer.
Close enough that his breath brushes your cheek, close enough that you feel your pulse leap to meet him.
“Let me show you,” he whispers, a challenge wrapped in velvet.
You tell yourself to walk away.
Instead, you nod, once, barely.
He takes your wrist gently, leading you backward until your hips meet the edge of the desk behind you.
His gaze drags down your body, slow, appreciative, confident in a way that no boy should ever manage.
“Thought so,” he breathes. “Knew I’d get you here eventually.”
You open your mouth to protest, you don’t get far.
His hands frame your waist, firm, steady.
He leans in, lips grazing your ear.
“Get on your knees,” he purrs, low and commanding, “and beg for what you want.”
Your breath catches, heat flooding your cheeks. His smile sharpens wicked, knowing.
“Go on,” he whispers. “Let me hear it.”
And everything in you trembles on the precipice of giving him exactly what he wants…
Your knees give out first, landing on the cool classroom floor without your consent. Isack's eyes darken, watching you surrender to his command so easily.
He unconsciously flexes his arms, knowing they're one of the reasons you're dropping to your knees right now. "Good girl..."
He unbuckles his belt slowly, the sound loud in the quiet classroom. His eyes never leave yours as he unfastens his jeans, pushing them down just enough to free his thick length.
He strokes himself once, twice, pre-cum already glistening at the tip.
"Open your mouth," he orders, his voice low and commanding. He guides the head of his cock to your lips, smearing the pre-cum across them.
You part your lips obediently, looking up at him with wide, submissive eyes. "Wider,"
He pushes your jaw down gently with his thumb, forcing your mouth open wider. He takes advantage of the increased space, sliding his cock inside deeper than you expected.
He hits the back of your throat immediately, making you gag softly. "Shh..." *He clucks his tongue. "No noises."
He starts to thrust his hips forward, fucking your mouth slowly but deeply.
Each movement makes you gag, your eyes watering as he pushes further into your throat than anyone ever has before. He's enjoying the sight of his cock stretching your little mouth open so much. "Look up at me..."
You obey, looking up at him with those big, doe eyes.
He can see the tears streaming down your cheeks, hear the muffled sounds of you trying to breathe through your nose.
He pulls out abruptly, leaving your mouth gaping open and dripping with saliva. He grabs your arm and hauls you up roughly, spinning you around to bend you over the desk. "You wanna know what a real man feels like?" He growls, hiking up your skirt and tearing your panties off without ceremony.
He slaps your ass hard, making you yelp.
He runs his hands up your thighs, spreading them wider as he positions himself behind you. "You're gonna take my cock like a good girl," he promises darkly, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance.
He pushes inside without hesitation, filling you completely in one long thrust.
You whine, your hands scrambling for purchase on the desk. He grabs your hips and starts to thrust into you , proving to you with every brutal thrust just how much of a man he is. "Feel that?"
He smacks your ass again, harder this time, leaving a red handprint on your pale flesh. "That's what a real man feels like. Not some boy you can wrap around your little finger."
He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he wraps an arm around your waist.
His other hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head back roughly as he pounds into you from behind. "Say my name," he demands, his voice a rough snarl in your ear.
You whimper, your body shaking with each powerful thrust. You know what he wants, what he needs.
You're used to boys who can be sweet-talked or distracted, but Isack is something else entirely. "Isack,"
His pace becomes even more punishing at the sound of his name on your lips. He releases your hair and slaps your ass again, the sound echoing through the classroom.
He spreads your cheeks, watching his cock slide in and out of you. "Good girl,"
He snaps his hips forward, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. He smirks, remembering how you moaned when he accidentally found it.
He find it again deliberately, over and over, making your body jerk and your arms give out, collapsing you face-first on the desktop.
He follows you down, covering your smaller frame with his larger one. His hands come up on either side of your head, caging you in as he continues to thrust into you mercilessly.
He leans down, his lips brushing your ear. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up," he promises darkly.
You arch your back helplessly beneath him, trying to take him deeper. He groans, low and satisfied, feeling your walls clench around his length.
He wraps an arm under your hips, tilting them up to change the angle, hitting that spot even harder with every thrust. "You like that?"
He grinds down on you with each deep thrust, his voice a rough whisper in your ear. "Like how a real man fucks you? Not like some boy with a tiny dick and no stamina?" He smacks your ass again, leaving another red handprint.
Your back arches even more at his dirty words, your pussy squeezing around him tightly. He swallows hard, his hips slamming forward like a piston.
He loves how dirty you get when he talks like this, how wet you get, how quiet you are, taking his big cock like a champ.
He slaps your ass again, making it redden. He spreads your cheeks wider, watching his cock disappear inside your body.
He knows you're not innocent, not if you let him fuck you like this in an empty classroom, like some porn video. "Look at you," He mutters darkly,
He reaches around and pinches your nipples hard through your shirt, making you gasp. He starts to pound into you brutally against the desk, his hand sliding down to rub your clit roughly.
His other hand wraps around your throat, squeezing gently as he fucks you. "I'm coming,"
He releases your throat and spins you around, pressing your back against the cold window.
He kicks your legs apart roughly and drops to his knees, his face burying between your thighs.
He starts eating you out like a starving man, no more rough fucking, just gentle licks and sucks on your sensitive clit.
His hands hold your hips softly as he pleasures you after being so rough earlier. He wants to make you come undone beautifully now.
He spreads your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, licking slow and long from bottom to top. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, sucking gently like he's savoring a sweet treat. His fingers slide inside you, curling up to rub that sweet spot perfectly.
He looks up at you through his eyelashes, seeing your head thrown back against the window.
He doubles his efforts, his tongue moving faster against your clit as his fingers pump in and out of your pussy. "Come for me, sweetheart," he murmurs against your folds. "Come all over my face like a good girl."
Without realizing it, you find yourself following his dirty words, your body trembling as you reach your climax.
Your hips buck against his mouth, and he eagerly laps up every drop of your arousal. He stays there, gently kissing and licking your cunt until your orgasm completely subsides.
As he stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Isack looks at you with a soft smile. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You okay, sweetheart?" He asks softly. "I was pretty rough earlier... Was I good for you?"
You blush deeply, still trying to catch your breath. You nod slowly, meeting his gaze. "Yes, Isack... you were very good for me. Rough and gentle in all the right places." You pause, looking at him with a small smile.
His expression relaxes into a relieved smile. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before his hand automatically reaches out to squeeze your ass gently. "God, I love this ass," he murmurs. "It's so perfect and round..."
You blush even deeper, looking away shyly. "Isack..." You murmur softly, swatting his hand away playfully. "Stop it." But he doesn't stop. Instead, he squeezes your ass again, harder this time, making you squeak.
Isack grins mischievously, his hands still on your ass. He pulls you close, so your bodies are flush against each other.
He leans down to whisper in your ear. "I want to take you out tomorrow. Dinner, maybe a movie. And after..."
He smirks, knowing he's making you blush again. "After, I'm gonna bend you over that dining table and fuck you until you can't walk straight." He slaps your ass lightly for emphasis. "So wear something easy to take off."
ISACK SMUT. PLEASE. PLEASE. ANYTHING. SUB OR DOM. I DONT CARE I JS NEED HIM
Celebrating
Pairing: Isack Hadjar x gf!reader
Warning: smut
Summary: you and Isack celebrate in his driver's room
a/n: this sucks and makes no sense, I'm trying to get better at writing smut I promise 😭🙏🏼
masterlist requests open
You knew this day was going to be electric the moment Isack’s car crossed the finish line in first.
The way he pumped his fist, that fire in his eyes… damn, he looked unstoppable.
And you?
You’d been in the stands, cheering louder than anyone, but now you were here, alone with him, in his driver’s room, him sweaty, buzzing from adrenaline, and you buzzing from anticipation.
He hadn’t even taken off his helmet before he grabbed your wrist, tugging you close. “You think you can just waltz in here and not celebrate with me?”
His voice was low, rough, and full of heat.
“I think,” you whispered, pressing against his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammering against yours, “I’m exactly where I should be.”
He smirked, leaning down until his lips were brushing your ear. “Oh, we’re gonna celebrate, alright.” His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
The heat radiating off him was almost too much, but you didn’t care, you thrived on it.
One hand found your neck, tilting your head back, and he kissed you.
Not gentle, not soft, this was fire.
His lips, hungry, demanding, exploring.
You let out a moan that was half protest, half surrender, and that only made him smirk against your skin.
His hands didn’t stop there.
They roamed, tracing your curves, feeling every inch of you through clothes that suddenly felt like a nuisance. “Damn, you drive me crazy,” he muttered, almost against your collarbone, and you shivered at the sound of your name rolling off his tongue like a promise.
You pressed back, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss.
The world outside the driver’s room didn’t exist anymore, just the two of you, the sweat, the adrenaline, the heat.
He dipped you back against the wall, and you gasped when his hand slid lower, teasing, testing, making you arch into him without even thinking.
“Isack…” you breathed, barely his name, barely a plea, and he answered with a growl, pressing into you harder, claiming, marking.
The celebration wasn’t about champagne or trophies anymore, it was about this, about you two, about letting everything spill over after all the tension of the race.
Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a victory in itself.
And as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his grin wicked and satisfied, he murmured, “I think this is my favorite kind of win.”
You smiled, panting, a little dazed, and whispered back, “Mine too.”
Because right now, the race didn’t matter.
The only finish line that counted was right here, in his arms, in his driver’s room, and it was worth every bit of heat and tension you could handle.
By now, the driver’s room had shrunk in your mind, too small for just the air, too big for the tension crackling between you.
Isack’s hands were relentless, tracing, exploring, claiming every inch of your body like it was a map only he could read.
And you… you weren’t holding back either, matching him touch for touch, gasp for gasp.
He pressed you harder against the wall, and this time his lips traveled lower, nipping along your neck, leaving a trail that made you shiver uncontrollably. “You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” he growled, his voice rough, full of raw desire. “I can’t wait any longer.”
Your fingers tugged at his fireproofs, desperate, needing him as much as he needed you.
Finally, he tore it off, tossing it aside like it never existed, and damn, your breath hitched.
Sweat, muscle, heat… Isack was a walking, talking furnace, and right now, every ounce of him was yours.
He pressed you back onto the corner of his desk, the cool surface contrasting with the fire he ignited across your skin.
His hands slid lower, teasing, daring, making you arch instinctively, every nerve screaming for more. “God, you feel like this… it’s insane,” he muttered, and you couldn’t stop the needy whimper that escaped your lips.
“Isack… please…” Your voice was nothing but heat, trembling with want.
He leaned down, capturing your lips again, deeper, hungrier, while one hand slid dangerously close to your most sensitive places, and you shivered violently, leaning into him, desperate for friction, for contact, for everything.
Every kiss, every touch, every whispered, breathy “I need you” was a countdown, a race you didn’t want to end.
His hands roamed expertly, teasing, torturing, making your world shrink until it was only you, him, and the mounting, electric tension.
Finally, he pressed closer, grinding slightly, just enough to make you tremble. “You’re mine,” he hissed, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was half love, half claim, half sheer need.
The air was thick with heat, part adrenaline, part desire, all-consuming.
Isack’s hands didn’t stop; they explored every curve, every inch, leaving you trembling in ways that had nothing to do with the race.
His lips left a trail of fire down your neck, and you gasped, arching into him, desperate for more, craving him like oxygen.
He pushed you up his desk, your back hitting the cool surface, grounding you just enough while his hands roamed lower, teasing, testing.
Every brush made you shiver violently, and his growl deepened, vibrating through you like electricity. “You’re so wet for me… look at you,” he muttered, voice rough and claiming, and you whimpered, letting the sound escape freely.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, finally pulling him in. His lips found yours again, the kiss rougher, hungrier, leaving no room for hesitation.
Every grind, every press, every brush against you made your body scream for more, and he leaned into every signal, loving how desperate you were for him.
He pressed you harder onto the desk, hips sliding, hands roaming, lips and teeth teasing, and oh, God, the way he moved, it was like he was learning your body in real time, memorizing every shiver, every moan, every gasp.
“Isack…” you breathed, lost, trembling, desperate.
And he answered, voice low and thick with need, “You’re mine… all of you.”
The driver’s room wasn’t just a room anymore, it was your private universe.
His hands, his mouth, his heat, it all wrapped around you, claiming you, celebrating victory in a way no trophy ever could.
Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise was an explosion, and you were helpless, willing, burning in the fire only he could light.
And as he leaned back just slightly, eyes dark with hunger and satisfaction, he murmured against your lips, “This… this is the best part of my day.”
Because right now, the only finish line that mattered was you, and oh… you were winning in ways that had nothing to do with a race.
